Page 30 of Alora: The Maladorn Scroll (Alora 3)

“Bardamen? What...”

The bush parted, and her face appeared, her eyes wide as an owl’s. “What are you doing here?”

“I... uhm... Do you wish me to leave you in privacy? Were you going to... uhm... to bathe?”

“Of course not,” she retorted. “Were you hoping to catch me bathing?”

“No! No, I promise not. I have been looking for you.”

“Why?” Her head disappeared as the branches snapped back together.

“I came to tell you—”

The words stuck in his throat as she appeared on the path, her fury transmitting in her furrowed brows and clenched fists. Fire made her gray eyes sparkle like molten silver.

“I don’t believe I’m interested in anything you have to say.” Marching around him, she raced back up the path.

“What if I carry a message for Raelene?” he asked, shuffling behind her.

She stopped, turning her head and narrowing her eyes. “Raelene? What does she say?”

“The message is for Raelene, not from her. I simply noted Raelene’s fatigue and wondered if you might be persuaded to attend to her in the archives. Of course, I helped as much as I could, but she requires someone with scholarly gifting.”

“I’ll gladly help Raelene.”

She continued up the winding trail, and he struggled to keep pace.

“You’ll come with me now?”

“I can’t come now.” She stopped, gesturing at the large rock, littered with dried clothes. “Tell her I will come the moment I finish my duties. I must gather and fold the wash, then collect water for the house.”

He spied two pails stacked on the corner of the rock.

“Perhaps I can help you with your duties,” he suggested.

“You would do that for me?” The broad smile she flashed—a rare sighting—almost took his breath away.

“It would be my pleasure.”

“Very well, I accept. Thank you, Bardamen. I’m off to render aid to Raelene.”

“But—”

“I will be certain to commend you to Raelene, and also to my grandfather, for your generous offer.”

“But—”

“Do not forget to fetch the water. Four bucketfuls should do.”

Her merry laugh twittered behind her as she skipped away.

Bardamen kicked his foot out in frustration, stubbing his toe on the rock. With a yelp of pain, he hopped on one foot until he lost his balance and fell, narrowly missing a bush covered in sharp thorns.

“Bright!” he yelled. “Bright, bright, bright!”

The only answer was the whisper of the wind through the tree branches.

And then... he laughed.