Page 124
Story: Fate Calls the Elf Queen
“Wow.” Layala smiled. “That’s impressive, Presco.”
“You speak—spoke as many as I, if not more. We often studied together and quizzed each other. We’d pick months where we only spoke a particular language. It drove people at the castle mad. The servants would want to tear out their hair when we’d ask them to do something in a language they didn’t understand. We had a good laugh at their expense.”
Layala thought about that. “There were many different people in Villhara, from all over the realms so we needed to be able to change languages all the time.”
Presco’s face lit up and he nodded enthusiastically. “Yes. Most learned the primordial language once they arrived in Runevale, however.”
“So, my territory was known as the night territory, and Hel’s was…”
“We often called your land House of Night and Hel’s House of Magic, or many simply called it Hel’s.”
“And Villhara?”
“It’s what you named your territories when you married and combined them. Everyone moved between the two as one. It was an adjustment at first because we’d kept to ourselves for so long in House of Night, but Hel’s people and yours fit well over time. They didn’t like the other territories much either.”
She smiled. “Weren’t his people more… rebellious? I can’t think of a better word. I remember going to one of his parties and felt very out of place.”
“In some ways. They were open about public affection and less formal in their speech and interactions, but I think it was good for all of us. They learned to be more conservative, and we adjusted to be less rigid. Holding hands in public could be seen as a scandal in House of Night and Hel’s people were always touching and hugging. Their culture was more affectionate.”
“That’s interesting. He doesn’t seem that way now.” But then again he did touch her often. She always thought it was because he wanted to antagonize her.
“He’s changed quite a bit since then.”
Layala pressed her lips together. “What happened between us?” She’d carefully not inquired about Hel and her past until now.
Presco glanced out the window. “Perhaps you should ask him those types of questions. I don’t want to get in the middle of it or sway you one way or another. It was…challenging enough for all of us then. You asked me to come here with you when you left Runevale, and I did. But because it was with War, it broke Hel in a way I can’t quite describe, and what happened after…” he shook his head remorsefully. “Many of the gods not involved pushed Hel to fight, an excuse for them to go to war and take. The dragons’ thirst for battle, it’s in our nature. It’s one of the reasons War is the god the dragon shifters cherished.” He frowned. “There was much senseless death.”
“But I didn’t leave him for no reason.” Layala sounded more defensive than she meant to. She hated to think she was the reason behind the senseless deaths he spoke of.
“No, you had your reasons. And I don’t think you imagined the aftermath of your choice.”
“All because I loved War?”
“You didn’t love War in the same way as Hel. I don’t want to say more because your perception of the situation and mine would be quite different, and it’s been so long my memory isn’t as sharp.”
She nodded. It was better she knew for herself what happened. “Alright, so are we serious about trying to sneak into the Drakonan Treasury?”
“That depends on how much you want your belongings back.”
“I need the journals. It could be years before I remember my life at this rate.” She thought of Thane alone against the demon prince. Each day she stayed in ignorance put him at risk, not to mention Varlett was with him. And she didn’t trust the dragon witch. “I’ll talk with Hel. Have you seen him this morning? We’re supposed to train but I thought we could take a day off and clear some of the weeds off the house.”
He shook his head. “I haven’t.”
“Oh, did he come back last night?”
“I’m not sure.”
Layala took the clothes out to the silver wash tub outside and dumped them in. She pumped water, filling it up and then put her hand to her brow, shielding the bright sun. He wasn’t out here that she could see. The property within the wall was only about ten acres. She’d be able to spot him even among the fruit trees and tall grass.
Leaving the clothes to soak, she went through the dining room and down the hall then knocked on his door. He’d taken a room on the main floor. When he didn’t answer she slowly pushed it open and peeked inside. The bed was made, his weapons weren’t on the dresser and the window was left open with the blue curtain blowing in the breeze. He wasn’t here.
After the clothes were washed and hung out to dry, she started jerking up weeds along the front path. It was nearly dark by the time she cleared half of it away. She stopped to drink and eat but a nagging worry that started small intensified when the sun set. In the weeks they’d been there, he’d never not come back. He hadn’t missed a single day of training.
Presco stood at the window with his arms crossed and Layala stepped to his side. “Do you think something happened to him?”
“I’m sure he’s fine,” Presco said. “It’s Hel. He’s always been a bit of a wildcard.”
“Did he say anything to you before he left last night?”
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