Page 33 of The Elves and the Shoemaker (The GriMM Tales #4)

Twenty-Six

Elias

E

lias was quite certain he might never feel his poor toes again. He should have infused some magic into his shoes to keep them warm when he’d had the chance.

His hands shook as he tried to build a fire to fight off the endless chill.

After a while, the warmth from the flames and the sheer exhaustion, were enough for Elias to finally fall asleep, clinging to the hard brown rock which he’d given it all up for.

Running on barely more than a few hours of broken sleep, Elias struggled to put one foot in front of the other the next day. He’d run out of water and couldn’t find anything fresh that wasn’t frozen over and so he’d made his way towards the river to set up camp that night.

He hoped it was the combination of exhaustion, dehydration, and hunger that was making him paranoid, but he’d spent the entire day so far convinced that eyes were on him.

All the hairs on his body had stood on end, screaming that there was a predator nearby, but hours had passed and nothing had leaped at him from the bushes, and so he did the only thing he could and kept plodding on.

When he stopped to rest, Elias pulled a face at the colour of the river water he was about to try and drink.

What have I been reduced to?

Looking away, he reached down with his water skin in hand, which turned out to be a mistake. The water level was lower than he’d estimated, and in his tired state, he lost his balance.

What felt like shards of ice stabbed him before he even registered that he’d fallen into the icy depths of the river.

The shock of it stole his breath. He tried to fight his way back to the bank, but he was weak and the currents overpowered him.

He kicked and kicked and kicked, desperate to keep his head above the water so he could breathe but it felt like a hand kept grabbing his ankles, dragging him down, down, down, towards the depths of the riverbed.

If he could have, he’d have wailed in frustration.

It had all been for nothing.

He’d given it all up to protect them, and now he would die at the bottom of a river without ever having returned with the one thing that could promise safety to his loves. He would die, and they’d think he’d just left, never to return again. Nobody would bid him farewell, he would just be gone.

For some reason, he pictured his brother Bjorn then.

He knew that there was no real way that Bjorn could know if Elias was alive or dead but somehow the idea of Elias becoming a nameless skeleton in a foreign land with the only family who ever cared about him never knowing, tore at wounds that Elias had spent his life carefully ignoring.

Elias didn’t know which he drowned in faster, the water or despair.

“L

et’s go, he looks dead.”

“His heart is beating, he isn’t dead.”

“Almost dead, then.”

Something surged inside Elias, something vile, and suddenly what felt like an entire river rushed through him and burst from his mouth.

“That is… disgusting.”

Elias choked on the dirty river water as his body tried to rid him of it. Afterwards, he collapsed on his back again, groaning.

“Told you he wasn’t dead.”

“What do we do with him?”

“He’ll die of the cold out here, we should take him back.”

A few moments later, Elias felt himself being lifted by strong arms and sat on something warm and kind of hairy.

“My rock, I need my rock. Can’t go without it,” Elias mumbled desperately.

Someone sighed. “You almost died, I think you’ll manage without a rock.”

“I need it. Leave me, then. I can’t go without my rock. It’s all for nothing without the rock,” Elias practically sobbed.

“Fine, shhh. Okay, we’ll go via your camp and collect your rock, then.”

“Thank you,” Elias whispered to the kind stranger before collapsing back onto someone’s chest and swiftly passing out again.

When he came to, he was fairly sure he was hallucinating, because if he wasn’t, then he was riding on the back of a very large charcoal-grey wolf. Arms wrapped around his middle were keeping him upright, and he was relieved to find his ugly brown rock nestled safely between his legs.

“Umm… who are you?” Elias asked.

“Oh, he’s finally awake,” the man said. “I’m Red, and this is Wim.” He patted the side of the wolf they were apparently riding.

“You tamed a wolf??”

Red chuckled. “You could say that.”

The wolf growled. “I have a name.”

Elias startled. “Did you just talk? Are you sure I didn’t die in the river?”

“You heard me, and no, you didn’t die. The name’s Wim, thank you for asking.”

“Where are you taking me? I need to go home.”

Elias wasn’t even certain of how long he’d been gone now, and he felt sick at the distress he must be causing Henrik and Johan by his slow return.

“You almost drowned and you need some proper warmth and clean water. When you’re well, we can help you find your way,” Red said.

Elias had little choice but to comply. Despite the warmth of the wolf below him and the blanket wrapped around his shoulders, he was shivering and cold down to his bones in a way that he knew was dangerous, especially without any way to warm himself now magic had left him for good.

“Okay,” he whispered, feeling vulnerable.

T

he next time Elias woke, he was sweating profusely. He peered around only to find himself in the middle of an entire pile of… of wolves!

His heartbeat sped up, beating so fiercely he feared it might escape his own chest, but the wolves were just curled up and sleeping.

Elias was shocked to find he was outside, the cold air clearly weak competition to a heap of warm-blooded wolves.

The clearing they were in was not dissimilar to where the hunting cabin was but there was an area for cooking and a large firepit, where the flames created a lingering smoky mist in the air.

Elias found Red sitting on a chair by the fire, and he appeared to be whittling some wood into arrows.

Struggling under the weight of heavy wolf limbs, Elias eventually managed to extricate himself from the pile and padded over to Red.

“Hi,” he said shyly.

“How do you feel?” Red asked.

“Much better, thank you. I don’t mean to be rude, but where is my rock?”

Red raised a curious eyebrow at Elias before pointing to the base of a nearby tree. Elias scuttled over and picked it up, cradling it in his hands.

“What is it?” Red asked, looking at the ugly rock judgmentally.

“It was the only way to keep my family safe. I need to return home with it,” Elias explained vaguely.

“I have never met a free elf before.” Red phrased it as though it were a question.

“Well, it turns out that you can escape captivity and still never truly be free.” Elias stroked his index finger across the rock thoughtfully.

“How did you escape?”

Elias turned to face Red. “Luck, I suspect. I’m not entirely sure.

We were being transported to the castle, and we’d just entered the Dark Forest when someone shot two arrows.

The first one killed the slaver who’d been driving the carriage and the second split the rope which trapped the cage shut.

We all just ran. I don’t know if or who else survived aside from my friend. ”

Red looked astonished. He sat there with his mouth hanging wide open and a level of shock in his expression which Elias felt disproportionate to the story he’d told. How had Red imagined they’d escaped?

“You… it was you?” Red said.

“What was me?”

“Actually, I suppose it was me. I shot those arrows.”

Now it was Elias’ turn to stand there looking like a codfish, mouth agape.

“You? You freed us?”

Red nodded, smiling. “I cannot take all the glory. It was Wim’s idea, and I thought the plan quite mad, but I did shoot the arrows and now you are here. Unbelievable.”

Elias could hardly believe it. What were the chances he’d be rescued from drowning by the same man who’d freed him? “I owe you my life. Twice over.”

“Let us make a deal since life in the forest can get rather boring. Wim and I will escort you back to your home and along the way, you can tell me everything you have done since you escaped. Tell me how you came to end up with a family that needs protection from a large rock. Entertain me, little elf, and we’ll call it even.

” Red grinned and Elias decided right then that they would be great friends.

He hadn’t had many, but Elias knew a kindred spirit when he found one.

Itching to get back to Henrik and Johan, Elias badgered Red and Wim for most of the morning until they eventually gave in and agreed to begin the journey to take Elias home. He packed his few belongings into his bag but kept the rock safely in his hands.

Wim grumbled a little when he and Red climbed on his back, but Elias got the feeling that was mostly just his nature and didn’t worry about it too much.

He couldn’t quite believe his luck at getting to travel home in such luxurious comfort as this.

His already blistered and battered feet would thank him later.

Elias kept up his deal with Red. He talked the man and his wolf’s ear off, regaling him with tales of their escape, their time in the Dark Forest, and then how they’d been rescued by the sweetest man Elias had ever known.

He got the impression that Red preferred his higher action stories.

Despite it being Elias’ least favourite story to tell, Red wanted every last detail of the fire incident at the shoe shop.

It was a welcome distraction, though, as the closer they got, the more Elias’ palms began to sweat at the reaction he was likely to face.

He was sure that Johan would once again interpret this act as a lack of trust on Elias’ part and maybe there was some truth to that.

He only hoped that Johan had understood his message with the kingfisher feather.

That he understood Elias had every intention of returning home and had never planned to abandon them.