worlds. They weren’t too pleased with Robin’s alliance with the human serfs in his attacks, and it was soon after that they elected to close the portals so that no goblin or lesser fae would be able to interfere in the human world, as they tell it.”
“Are you saying that Robin Hood, a hero of the people, is who caused the portals between the worlds to close?”
“In part,” Grimsal admits with a small smile. “There were quite a few naughty fae pillaging without leave from the elvish courts.” He chuckles. “But at least Robin wasn’t just making mischief for the sake of it—though the king of the Lorandral Mountain didn’t see it quite so magnanimously. That’s where we’re heading, you know, good old Lorandral Mountain. I wonder what our reception will be like,” he speculates happily.
Elves!
Despite Grimsal’s scathing tone when speaking of them, I can’t believe I might actually see an elf. Outside of unicorns, elves and pixies are near the top of the list of my childhood fantasies. What girl didn’t get at least a little dreamy over one elf or another? I’m not going to admit to some of the fantasies I’ve had over Thranduil, and how many times I watched The Hobbit mostly to admire him. The fact that they don’t lust after unicorn magic—a disappointing fact that naturally and quite reasonably killed any enjoyment over the existence of fairies for me—just sells me more on spending time among them.
You are excited, ahandral, Eliph teases. Perhaps I should have tempted you with visiting the elvish courts to begin with.
I let out a laugh since that comment is a fair observation.
“It certainly is a great motivation to get into the mountains. No naga ambushes to worry about, and we’ll probably be protected from fairies once we’re within their borders… Right?”
Eliph steps lightly as he crests a small hill, his thoughts falling silent in consideration as he makes his way along what appears to be a winding path cut through the undergrowth.
Yes and no, he says after some contemplation. No, we will not be able to hide from their presence, since fairies travel freely through elvish kingdoms, as do most fae whom they consider their subjects, but yes, we will be safe. Fairies will not try to attack another fae without the permission of the court within elvish territory.
I bite my lip thoughtfully as I stare up at the rising slope of the mountain up ahead.
“Maybe we should just keep going and not stop,” I suggested.
I hate the thought of missing out on a magic lesson but the possibility of safety among the elves—and elves in general—makes me eager to keep pushing forward until we are well away from this forest.
“Not a good idea,” Grimsal mutters. “We should take what rest we can. Elves, while sporting a stick up their collective asses most times, are as unpredictable as any fae. I don’t wish to encounter them without being fully rested and alert.”
I open my mouth to object, because we’re clearly just as vulnerable out in the open in this forest.
Grimsal is right. Let’s rest before we go any farther. I can feel your weariness, even though you try to hide it from me. We will stop for the night, and then tomorrow we will begin to make our way up the mountain with our wits fully about us.
I sigh and grudgingly agree. I suppose another night in this forest can be tolerated, especially with the promise of magic. Still, it doesn’t stop the nervous shiver of anticipation mixed with dread that skirts up my back. I’m not certain of the source, but as peaceful as our journey has been over the last several days, I am certain that the other shoe is bound to drop soon.
Chapter 22
Steph
I have to hand it to the guys—the waterfall is gorgeous. As far as campsites go, it’s the best one we’ve set up yet. Although the water is loud, it falls into a large crystalline, rocky basin that feeds into two different rivers that branch from it. The bank transitions from sand and rock to a soft pink moss bed before it’s eventually taken over by grasses and brush.
That mossy surface is clearly where we’re going to bed down for the night because Eliph strides to the sandy shoreline just in front of a particularly large ledge of moss and begins to make a fire. His tail flicks against the cushiony pink growth, and I’m tempted to grab it just to see what