22. Elian

Snow fell in the small town of Tunstead. Elian had gotten a lead that the town was one of the many locations along the Silent Road, and just twenty miles southwest of Coopersburgh. As Elian, Rhielle, and Lou made their way into the town, the citizens gaped up at them, some of them turning away or closing up their stalls or shops for the rest of the evening.

Suspicious and fearful, as they have every right to be with Wielders and Legion soldiers in their town.

A few beggars stumbled out of an alley and came up to their horses, holding out their hands. Rhielle slipped them some coppers. Lou only scoffed at them.

Elian felt a small measure of gratitude that his apprentice could take something good from their long trek. They had been riding hard for weeks now, and so far, their efforts had been in vain. Despite how harshly Lou questioned Thomas's wife in Pitchvale, they had only been run in circles, losing precious ground in their pursuit to find the Shadowborn. They had to restock provisions and tend to the horses more times than Elian wanted to. Now, they were beyond weary and cold, and Elian's patience was wearing. After another long day of riding and fruitless searching, they needed rest, stopping for the night at the town's only inn.

They made their way to the stable, where Elian and Lou put up their horses while Rhielle went to the inn to get them rooms for the night.

"We've been given the runaround," Lou told him. "There are no Astrans here, nor were there any in the last three places that innkeeper's wife told us about." He drew the brass Core from his pouch and held it up. The lines engraved into the metal didn't glow blue the way they did when an Astran was near, nor was there any humming. How it could detect Astran energy was a mystery. Elian didn't know of the Core's design, he only knew how to wield it.

"Either way, we have to rest," Elian said, taking his bag from his saddle.

"And go where after that?" Lou's lip curled.

"Your guess is as good as mine."

"We've been all over the east by now. We should head into the heart of Calwick. There are more forests for them to hide in."

"Then I suppose we will." Elian eyed him. "There is the coast to think about as well. It would be easy for them to stowaway on a boat or ship."

"Perhaps we should consider splitting up then." Lou rested his hands on his hips, his chin held high.

Lou was right that the innkeeper's wife seemed to have run them all over the east. She had given them several locations of villages that the Silent Road supposedly passed through, and each time they left empty-handed. It was evident by now that the woman had given them the wrong locations, and they had taken the bait. It was time to switch the plan.

"We should stick together for now," Elian said, nodding at him. "There are four of them, and we must not underestimate Owen."

Lou made a face and left, and Elian followed after him at a distance, moving slowly as he made his way into the damp street. The sky was darkening, and street lamps were being lit.

"Looks like it'll snow all night," came a familiar voice.

Elian turned around to find Rhielle leaning against the wall of the stable. He nodded her forward, and she walked along with him, pulling her hood up.

"What are you still doing out here?" he asked.

"Waiting for you."

"What for? Is the inn so bad that you prefer to stand around in the snow?" He chuckled, but when she looked at him seriously, her greenish eyes alert, he frowned. "What is it, Elle?"

She looked up at him, then nodded ahead. "I don't trust Lou."

Elian glanced at the man as he headed for the inn. "He's a renowned Wielder."

"He's slime. He abuses his power and position, and you know it."

"And what am I supposed to do about that?" He glanced at her, noticing how her blonde hair around her face fell in gold ringlets.

"I want you to watch yourself, Eli." When he shook his head, Rhielle grasped his shoulder and stopped him, making him look at her. "I mean it. You don't see the sneers he gives you behind your back, nor the rude gestures, but I do. Because I'm always watching him watch you. He's not a good man, so if you're not going to watch your back, then I'll do it for you."

He let out a breath of white into the air, and his heart skipped a beat. This woman, who he had known for ten years, who he had tutored and mentored, was telling him she was protecting him?

They'd hit it off when she'd first come to train as a Legion guard at the age of eighteen. As she'd grown, they had become companions, played cards, gone to taverns late at night to eat and drink. Ten years' worth of friendship had—what—blossomed into her becoming his bodyguard?

Elian thought of them as kindred spirits. Their minds had always aligned as they had come to know each other's thoughts and habits. He knew she was beautiful, but she had been so young when she first came to Alacor, he saw her as nothing more than a pupil. Until a few years ago. But their history—and their work—made for too many complications. As long as she had no suitor, and she continued to spend time with him, Elian felt no need to alter their friendship.

"Listen, Lou is all talk," he finally said. "But I'll watch myself closer around him, alright?"

"Promise?" She raised her pinkie, and he smiled, taking her pinkie and curling it around his own.

"Go on inside. I'll meet you in the mess hall."

She turned to go, and Elian made his way along the icy street. He strode into the bread shop down the block just before it closed. It was warm and inviting, the fresh aroma of bread wafting into his nostrils. He looked in the glass display at a few leftover muffins and loaves of bread that had been sitting all day. Fresh bread would be better, so he bought three small loaves with butter for each.

The clerk was giddy at such a large purchase and treated Elian with a kindness that could only be bought with coin. Taking his bag of warm wrapped bread, Elian came out of the shop and looked up and down the street before he made his way to the alley of beggars they'd passed on the way in.

Elian was cautious as he walked up to a few men loitering in tents made of canvas scraps, branches, skins, anything these people could find. He watched as a frail man laid down in one of the tents, and when Elian crossed into their space, another man gasped and stepped back.

There was a woman inside the tent with the older man, both of them wrapped in ratty scarves. They stank of urine and months' worth of sweat and grime, possibly longer, and they all shrank under Elian's hard gaze.

Taking the bread out of the bag, Elian handed a loaf to the startled woman, then handed another to the man standing outside. He placed a gentle hand on the older man's shoulder, who was sitting up now, his eyes looking as if a film was pulled over them.

"Bless you," the woman whispered. "Thank you."

Elian only nodded, then he got to his feet and made his way out of the alley and toward the inn. He wasn't sure why he had done what he did. Perhaps it was pity, for knowing what it felt like to live poorly and not knowing if your belly would be filled for the night. Or perhaps it was the fact he'd abused his power as a Wielder, and the knowledge was starting to weigh on him.

When he reached the inn, he pushed such thoughts away and went inside, where the warmth of the mess hall was stifling. He met Rhielle at the table and sat next to her, noticing she'd changed into dry clothes, but her hair was still damp from the weather. She pushed a plate of spiced chicken legs with buttered potatoes and greens toward him.

"Here, saved this for you," she muttered.

He smiled at her as she shoveled the food into her mouth from her own plate. She had always been the coarser one when it came to Core Wielders' apprentices. Her bold, sometimes crude, ways had irked him when he had first taken her on, but over the years of teaching her, he had grown to favor it.

"Thank you," he said. He started on his plate, eating slowly. Beside him, a burly, hairy man sat down and nodded at a scrawny man across the table.

"You hear about what happened to Quinnby Kingsland?" the burly man said excitedly over his mug.

"Aye, what's that, then, Rob?" his friend replied with a grin.

"The poor sap was found dead at his own tavern."

A few other men leaned forward. "Say what, now?" one said. "Kingsland?"

"Happenings of dark power, I heard."

Elian and Rhielle glanced at one another curiously. Turning to the man, Elian said, "Excuse me, did you say Quinnby Kingsland?"

"Oh yes," the burly man said. "The mogul at Adelon Estates. Hear there was Astran stuff involved. Could be Alliance rebels!"

The others laughed at him.

Elian glanced at Rhielle again and took a long gulp from his cup. "Finish up here and meet me upstairs. We're leaving to investigate this tonight."

I am in love with the orange lights that glow in the night. From my home I see them, flickering within sight. Like embers do they burn, igniting a heat that touches my heart. I want to hold them in my hands and hug them to my chest, so that I may feel the warmth of the homes they light. The orange lights that glow in the night.

Elian's lips twitched as he read the words. Of all Owen's poems, this was his favorite. It was a pity that such a lad had to be born into a cursed lineage. If he hadn't, he would still be living in his house on the cliff, where troubles seemed distant.

But such a life was unrealistic in itself. Elian knew there was much trouble to be had in expecting a dream to last. He had walked through Alacor's downtrodden streets enough to know that life was unkind, and that no one was willing to help you unless they obtained something in return.

He flipped through Owen's journal to the beginning, when he'd started writing almost a year back, as dated at the top of each page. It was the one thing Elian had made sure of to separate from Owen's other things when he had been imprisoned, as he hoped the Shadowborn's words would offer insight into his ancestry. But there was nothing about the lad's self in here in regards to being Astran, only poems and drawings.

Elian read over a small snippet of a passage he'd glossed over a few times, and each time his eyes roved over the words, his heart sank. They were words he felt himself, words he might have written himself.

I miss Mother dearly. Mostly at night, when I sit down at the table to eat. I look across and no one is there. I half expect to hear her laugh, but it never comes. Only the wind rattling the window. I wish she were still here to tuck me into bed at night, to sing me a lullaby about the wilds of Milarc, of faerie pools and mushroom rings. It's like there is a hole set deep in my heart, and it cannot be filled.

"You sure this is the right way?"

Elian closed the book and looked up at Rhielle. They were stopped on the side of the path for a moment, letting the horses drink their fill from a stream nearby. The woods they stood in were dense, and the fog that drifted between the trees was unsettling.

"Unless we took a wrong turn," Elian said. They had rode all night to make it to these woods by mid-morning.

Lou pulled his horse along. "Let's carry on. It's bound to be in here somewhere. No use getting frightened."

"I'm not," Rhielle retorted. "I'm just wondering how far into the forest this place is."

"Keep observing instead of opening your mouth."

Rhielle was about to retaliate when she caught Elian's gaze.

He shook his head and came up beside her as Lou took the lead. "Just leave it alone."

"He's such a fucking ass," she muttered.

"Rhielle, please." He gestured her forward, and she sighed as she took her horse's reins and tugged her along.

Elian put the journal away and patted Tuck's neck before urging him on. After some deep digging around in Tunstead, they were finally told by a guard that Quinnby Kingsland frequented the tavern within the shady confines of a forest off a backroad. Hopefully, this would lead Elian to Owen, as he felt his trail was growing warmer.

Before long, they came to a clearing, where the remains of a building sat. It had been burned down, the roof gone and the remaining walls charred black. The inside was visible and Elian watched as ashes skirted across piles of rubble and broken glass that littered the floor.

"What in the gods' names happened here?" Lou asked, half laughing.

Elian drew near what was left of the inn. Bending near one of the charred walls, he craned his neck and picked up a piece of burned wood. The odor of smoke still clung to it.

"This was recent," he said. He dropped the wood and wiped the black residue from his hand.

Rhielle stepped up on the boards of the inn. They creaked under her weight, threatening to fall in.

They searched the remains carefully as the fog swirled around them. Near the back of the building, Elian rubbed his boot over the sooty floor. Something white stood out against the char. He narrowed his eyes and bent down to find it was a tooth.

Peculiar.

Elian put it back down and rubbed his forehead with his fingers. He was weary, having not rested well in days. They had come straight from Tunstead to learn what had happened. But now the place was destroyed, and no one was here.

When a middle-aged man limped up the path, carrying a basket in his arms, they all went still.

The man stopped and stared at them, wide-eyed.

Rhielle jumped down from the building. "Are you the owner of this inn?"

"Well…" The man looked down and nodded. The circles under his eyes were deep, his brown hair and beard unkempt. "I was. As you can see, there's not much left of it."

"What happened?" Elian asked.

Hesitating, he shook his head. "I-I don't know. I only came back to clean it up a bit."

"Oh yeah?" Lou came up beside Rhielle, standing as tall as her. He crossed his arms and chuckled. "What's the basket for, then? Looks like you might be hanging around here. What's wrong? Got nowhere else to go?"

"I-I do," the man stammered. "I just… it's my inn, you see."

"Hmm." Lou cocked his head. "You look like an able man." He lunged forward suddenly, causing the innkeeper to jump back. "What are you hiding?"

"Leave him be," Rhielle cut in.

Lou glared at her. "Do you want answers or not?"

"We'd be able to find what we're looking for better if you'd stop trying to intimidate everyone you came into contact with."

"Keep running that mouth, bitch, and see what happens."

"Try me, you prick!" Rhielle stepped toward him, but Elian stepped between them, and Lou chuckled. "He thinks I won't beat his ass, but I will."

"Lou, enough," Elian said, and the man shook his head before turning away.

Sighing, Elian looked the frightened innkeeper in the eyes and showed his Legion medallion. "We're Core Wielders. I'm looking for several people. A man named Rem. Owen Greene. Quinnby Kingsland. Have you seen any of them?"

The man winced. "I tried to keep Rem and his men away, but in the past year, they took over my inn. And then they burned it to the ground."

"Where are they?" Lou asked.

The man's face pinched, his skin reddening as he shook his head.

"Where are they?" Lou shouted, making the man flinch. He pulled out his Core.

"I swear I don't know!" the man cried. "But I know Quinnby and Rem. That night, Rem brought someone in. Gave him to Kingsland. There was a scuffle, and the lad got away. Ran off into the woods. The place caught fire fast. Rem and his men left." He took in a breath and blew it out. "I came back that morning when it was doused. Haven't seen Rem since."

"What about the person Rem brought in? What did he look like?"

"Young, dark hair and eyes. Short. Never saw him after that night." The man closed his eyes. "I'm a changed man now. I'll never let such evil enter my dwelling again."

"Evil?" Rhielle asked, but she stayed where she was. "What do you mean?"

"Rem, Kingsland. They dealt with dark things. Things I never should have let come into this place, but I saw it all when I saw that purple fire. I pray Alenar will have mercy on me and let me start anew. I'll have nothing to do with those Hunters anymore."

Elian narrowed his eyes. "Purple fire?" He exchanged a fearful look with Lou.

They were now dealing with more than Elian had signed up for. If Hunters wanted Owen, they meant to Cleanse him. And if Owen had found out how to use the Dark Flame, and the Hunters found out he was Shadowborn…

This could get bad.

He had to find Owen before Rem did.