Page 31

Chapter Thirty

Korik

Korik’s heart felt as if it had frozen over. The way Varen so easily slipped back into the cold, arrogant person who he’d been before had taken him completely off-guard, destroying the fragile hope of them being something more—or at least, talking about it earnestly. It had been so long since he had seen that callous part of the elf; he had thought maybe Varen had truly changed, but it seemed everything that had happened between them so far meant little to the other man.

As he followed Varen stiffly through the gates of the outpost, Korik considered how much of their relationship had been wholly in his head. Varen had been honest from the beginning that it was meaningless sex to him, and Korik had let his feelings cloud his judgment. But for a time, it really had felt as though Varen was a different person when they were alone together for so long.

He wasn’t even relieved at having made it to the outpost anymore—not that spending any more time alone in the wilderness with Varen seemed appealing, either. It was as if everything became muted and dim, not quite reaching the aching hole where his heart used to be.

We don’t ever have to see each other again . The casual way Varen had flung the statement at him echoed over and over in his mind. Before yesterday, the thought had made him despair. Now, he considered it was for the best. Seeing Varen again, back in Drol Kuggradh—after everything they’d gone through, just for the elf to drop him like a toy he’d finally grown bored of—no, he had some spine left. If Varen never wished to see him again, Korik wouldn’t wait around for him.

He had wanted to travel more anyway once all this was over. Avoiding Varen was just another reason to do so.

Korik had been curious about the empty village when he’d first spotted it in the distance; but now he barely cared enough to glance around as they trudged through it toward the tower of the outpost. Most of the buildings here were boarded up; even the tree-temple looked as though only the barest of maintenance was performed, not at all like the resplendent place of worship he’d glimpsed in Castle Aefraya.

A few paces ahead of him, Varen was speaking with the two soldiers who had met them at the gate, looking for all the world like the stuck-up elven commander Korik had met those months ago. But maybe that was who he had been all along. He should have known better than to think someone could change in such a short amount of time.

A nervous meow caught his attention, and he turned back to see the two kits. The boisterous one had stopped to sniff at a wooden crate pushed up against the wall of one of the abandoned buildings. The other was still following Korik closely, but kept looking at its sibling, plaintively calling for it to keep up. Korik sighed, a tiny smile curling around his tusks, despite all his despondent thoughts. He reached down to pick up the closer kit. He’d been thinking of it as his kit for the past few days, in spite of his efforts not to get attached. The other, seeing Korik pick up its sibling, came scampering up to join them, jealous of the attention. So Korik scooped the other up, too, and carried them both as they entered the outpost.

The homes closer to the tower appeared to be inhabited, but past the gate into the tower courtyard, he finally saw more signs of life. Several elven soldiers were within: one at the gate, another standing post at the entrance to the tower on the opposite side of the courtyard, and several more going about their business in the yard. It felt as though every single one was staring right at him. Korik hunched his shoulders and looked down at the razorfang kits in his arms, trying to focus on anything but the painful weight of so many strangers looking at him.

Suddenly, the bold one squirmed, trying to escape—the shy one hissed, but not at its sibling. They were both looking at something in the distance—Korik followed the path of their wide eyes to find what had startled them.

Striding across the courtyard was an elven woman, dressed in practical leathers with her hair up in a tight, smooth bun. Behind her was a razorfang cat—a full-grown one, as big as the mother cat that had attacked them—with what looked like a leather collar around its neck. Korik froze, staring at it in shock. The cat was looking in their direction with interest.

Before he realized it, the squirming kit had leapt out of his arms and was darting toward the big cat. For a moment, Korik was terrified that they would fight, and the adult cat would easily kill the little kitten—but despite how its fur had puffed out fearsomely, the kit stopped when it reached the bigger cat. It sniffed at the bigger cat’s paw, which in turn sniffed the kit’s body; then it meowed loudly, before falling onto its back and pawing at the cat’s face in play. The other cat looked entirely relaxed, still sniffing the little kitten all over.

“Incredible,” the woman laughed, as Korik hesitantly approached. “When I heard you were bringing razorfang kits, I came running, but I didn’t expect that . I’m glad he’s playful, though.”

“I’m... glad they’re getting along,” Korik said faintly, still reeling. “Are you the Master of Hounds?”

The woman smiled at him. “That’s me. I’m Myrla. Nice to meet you.”

“I’m Korik,” he replied, still looking at the bigger cat snuffling the smaller one. “Do you... Have any actual hounds?”

She laughed again. “Getting right to the point, eh? Not anymore. Ever since I took in my little Rocky here, I haven’t kept dogs. But he keeps me on my toes just the same.”

Korik eyed the razorfang cat. It was not little, but he supposed Rocky was a suitable enough name.

“That’s a relief to hear,” he finally said. “I wasn’t sure if I could bring these two in here. They were orphaned, and I thought they were too young to survive on their own.”

“Oh, that’s how I found my Rocky, too—a hungry orphan, all alone in the woods. They are just babies, aren’t they?” The woman, Myrla, cooed down at the kitten as she spoke. Despite her severe appearance, her voice was soft and lilting as she addressed the creatures. “I bet you can’t even hunt yet, can you?”

The kit in his arms started to squirm, too, seeing the attention its sibling was getting from the older cat. Korik placed it down. It scampered over, sniffing the bigger cat curiously, as its sibling batted at it with its big paws. Korik managed a slight smile, watching them play.

“I’d be happy to take them both off your hands,” Myrla said, looking over at him. “Rocky’s in his twilight years, so now’s the perfect time for me to take in a kitten.”

Korik hesitated, looking down at the cats all playing together now. He’d grown attached to the kittens, but this seemed like a perfect place to leave them. If Myrla had raised a kitten to adulthood, maybe she was better suited to taking care of the kits than he was.

But he wanted to travel more. And an animal companion—one better suited to the wilderness than Roz—might be a boon in any future journeys.

“I’d like to keep the shy one for myself,” he finally said, deciding in the spur of the moment. “But you can keep the other.”

Myrla’s eyes sparkled as she smiled. “I think that sounds like a very fair trade.”

Korik suddenly became aware of Varen’s eyes on him. He’d been speaking with an elf who had escorted them; when he looked over, Varen had a stricken expression on his face, but quickly turned away when Korik’s eyes met his.

Korik’s heart hardened with indignation. Varen had wanted him to leave the kits behind and now was upset to leave them here? It didn’t matter. Korik was the one who had been taking care of them—the decision was his. Varen hadn’t offered to take them, even the one he had bonded with more, and Myrla was surely a better caretaker, anyway.

Korik turned away. “Then I entrust it to you.”

“I think they’re both boys,” Myrla said, leaning down to look more closely at Korik’s kitten. She picked it up, and it let her handle it without complaint. “Yep, two boys. It's tricky to tell when they’re young, but I’m pretty sure.”

Korik nodded. “I suppose I can start thinking of names, then.”

Myrla smiled. “You can name them both, if you’d like. A parting gift for the one you’re leaving with me.”

That seemed fitting. Korik managed a slight smile in return. “Sure. I’ll think about it.”

“I figured you both will be here for at least a few days, so no rush,” she said, turning to go. She picked up the kit that she would be taking and stepped away. “I won’t keep you any longer. Apologies, Commander.”

Korik picked up his own kitten, which mewled plaintively at being separated from his brother, but didn’t struggle. When he turned back to Varen, he kept his eyes downcast to avoid looking at the elf’s face—it was easier to ignore any emotions that might be in his expression. The elf said nothing as he rejoined the group, and the same two soldiers led them further into the outpost.

They entered the tower and were brought to a room near the back. Someone must have gone ahead to tell the commanding officer about their presence, as the elf behind the desk in the office that they were led into looked entirely unsurprised at their presence.

The commander was a male elf with a stern face and long brown hair pulled into a smooth, simple ponytail. He looked at each of them without expression. Varen bowed his head as he addressed the other elf.

“Thank you for meeting us on such short notice, Commander Eldren,” Varen said, head still bowed. “I’m Commander Petkas, and this is Healer Korik.”

Eldren nodded at each of them. “You and Healer Korik are welcome here, Commander Petkas, but I must admit I am perplexed as to how you ended up in Solitude in the first place.”

Varen grimaced. “It’s a long story, sir.”

Korik waited silently as Varen briefly recounted their adventure. He described their encounter with the orc raiders on their way to Castle Aefraya; and how, when they arrived, King Ruven tasked them with tracking down the larger group that the band had come from. He explained how one elf they rescued had been a High Sorcerer, who gave them a teleportation rune—this was the only time Commander Eldren made any expression of surprise—and Varen had needed to use it when they were ambushed. The rune had been meant to take them back to Drol Kuggradh, but Varen had been unfamiliar with the magic, forced to use it in a moment of panic; and they ended up far from their intended destination.

“I once trained here in Solitude when I was much younger. I spent a month in the forest just a few days west,” Varen concluded. “I think that’s why we ended up here. I remembered enough of the location to get us off the mountain and the rest of the way here.”

Despite how much he had been trying to close himself off from his feelings about Varen, Korik couldn’t help but feel relieved that the elf’s explanation skimmed over everything he wanted to keep to himself—his own druidic abilities, and even that they had encountered the orc clan on their way down the mountain. But Varen had said he wouldn’t tell anyone, and even if he was an asshole, he at least seemed to be a man of his word.

“I see,” Commander Eldren said when Varen was done. “Then I’m glad to hear you survived your ordeal. You are welcome to rest and resupply here.”

“We’re grateful for your hospitality, but I have an additional request, Commander,” Varen said, bowing his head again. “If it would be at all possible to spare a scout to accompany us back to Drol Kuggradh, just to help ensure we arrive safely, I would greatly appreciate it.”

Korik glanced sidelong at Varen. A scout would be helpful, but probably unneeded—yet the thought of being alone with Varen all the way to Drol Kuggradh seemed unbearably painful, so maybe that was for the best.

“It will take a few days to make the necessary preparations,” the commander finally said, after considering it for a moment. “But we can spare two to accompany you, I think.”

Varen managed a small, tired smile. “I’ll put in a good word with the prince for you if I can.”

Eldren chuckled at that, a smile splitting his serious features for the first time. “Very kind of you, Commander. I enjoy my post here, though, so maybe not too good of a word, hm?”

“Noted,” Varen smiled.

“If that’s all, I’ll have Scout Kelyn take you to the guest rooms,” Eldren said. After a pause, he added, “It’s been a while since we’ve had guests. If there’s any dust, let me know. It means someone’s been slacking on their cleaning duties.”

“Will do, Commander,” Varen replied. He stood, and Korik followed—he hadn’t spoken to the other commander once, but he preferred it that way. The less any of the elves knew about him, the better.

A different elf was waiting for them outside the office, and led them back out of the tower to a building on the far side of the courtyard. The barracks were relatively quiet, which Korik supposed was the norm for the middle of the day; the elf led them up to a second floor, which appeared to have several empty rooms for guests. They were shown to two rooms side-by-side; the rooms were small and sparsely decorated, but at least there would be a wall between them.

The bed would be too small for Korik, but it looked to be a thin mattress he could pull off the wooden frame easily enough. He would just sleep on the floor with the mattress for some padding. Neither Varen nor the scout seemed to notice, or care.

“You can get food in the mess hall anytime, but there’ll be a bell when hot meals are available, three times a day,” the elf was explaining, addressing Varen more than him. “And if you need anything, Quartermaster Ventil is usually downstairs—”

“Understood, thank you,” Varen was saying hurriedly, and turned toward Korik, who was heading into his room. “Korik—”

Heat flooded Korik’s face as he slammed the door closed behind him before Varen could say more. The kit in his arms startled at the sound—Korik nearly forgot he’d been holding him the whole time. He jumped down and sniffed around the room, while Korik leaned against the door, as if Varen might try to push his way in. He wouldn’t—at least Korik hoped he wouldn’t—but he remained pressed up to the door, anyway.

There were muffled voices from the hall; but after a moment, they faded away, and he heard the door of the adjoining room close. Faintly, it almost sounded like a sigh came from the other side of the wall, but Korik was sure he imagined it.