Chapter 10

Present day...

Corec and his companions followed the slow caravan as it made its way along the path to the border camp, surrounded by the giant elf trees. They’d reached the forest—the real forest—five days earlier, and Lors had given everyone the standard speech before they entered. They were allowed to hunt rabbits and bucks—male deer—but no more than three deer for the entire caravan. If they captured or killed any wild boars, the elves would pay them a bounty. They weren’t permitted to use traps that might harm something other than the intended prey, so Corec stowed his rabbit snares away. And while they could collect wood that had fallen, they weren’t allowed to cut down any of the trees without permission.

The trip through the forest had been peaceful so far, with no sign of anyone else. Corec had spent a few hours each day riding ahead with Melos and another guard he knew slightly, but most of the time, he stayed back with Katrin and Bobo. Sometimes, Bobo would be off somewhere, or run out of things to talk about, and Corec could have a quiet conversation with Katrin. While they hadn’t spoken of anything important, he thought she was less wary of him than she had been.

Late in the afternoon, there was a commotion ahead, rippling down the line, and the procession came to a halt earlier than Corec had expected. He stepped away from the trail to see around the wagons, and realized the cause—they’d come across an elven scouting party.

Corec decided to try speaking to one of the elves. Leaving Bobo to watch the animals, he and Katrin walked up to the front of the caravan. Lors was talking to the man who appeared to be the leader of the party, but there were several other scouts milling around.

Corec approached the nearest. “Do you speak trade tongue?”

“Little,” the man said, holding his hands a few inches apart.

“We hope to talk to someone about magic. Is there anyone like that in the camp?”

“Magic?” the man asked, then said a few words Corec didn’t understand. When he didn’t respond, the man said, “Shavala speaks. I find.”

The scout walked away to look for someone, and a few minutes later, a very short elf girl approached Corec.

Elves, on average, were shorter and more slender than humans, and this one was no exception. With her thin moccasins, she was less than five feet tall. She wore her hair short and loose, with the points of her ears sticking out. Like many of the wood elves, her hair was mottled with different colors of brown, appearing almost like tree bark, and she had the tan skin with a faint tinge of green that was common to her people. She wore a tight-fitting tunic and leggings, and Corec had to jerk his eyes away when he realized he was staring at the way the thin cloth draped against her chest. She carried an unstrung bow in one hand and wore a quiver on her back.

“I am Shavala,” the girl said.

“My name is Corec.”

She looked at him curiously. “Kivris said you have a question about magic?”

He drew Katrin to his side. “We do. This is Katrin. We were hoping there was someone we could ask about this rune.” He didn’t have to point it out, since the girl’s eyes were immediately drawn to the glowing blue mark. “I have one just like it on my arm.”

She stared at Katrin’s forehead for a moment. “I have not studied such a thing, but you can speak with Meritia. She’s at the camp. We’ll be there tomorrow.”

“Thank you.”

The next morning, after a few more hours of travel, the caravan reached the outpost.

Corec had always found the border camp to be odd. While there were tales of marvelous elven cities, the outpost resembled a cross between a human village and a long-term hunting camp. The eighty or so elves in the camp lived in plain but sturdy huts, and went about their lives much like the inhabitants of any small human village. In addition to marking the border, the camps were also used for training scouts, but even knowing those mundane reasons for its existence, the whole place seemed ... unremarkable. Anyone coming to the forest in the hopes of seeing wondrous sights and elven magic would be sorely disappointed. But Corec had seen magic here once—subtle though it was.

He and Katrin followed Shavala to a hut on the far side of the camp. A woman stood outside, dressed much like Shavala in a tunic and leggings. The two spoke in a rapid burst of Elven.

The woman, presumably Meritia, looked them over and said, “Come in and we’ll talk.”

Inside the hut, Corec passed her the bag he’d purchased from the trader. “Thank you for being willing to speak to us. Please accept these hot peppers as a token of our appreciation.” He’d fallen back on the mannerisms and words he’d been taught growing up, and hoped there wasn’t some sort of elven tradition he was supposed to use instead.

Meritia hesitated for a moment before speaking. “You are welcome in my home. Thank you. We don’t see these here often.”

They introduced themselves and told her everything they knew about the runes.

Meritia was silent during much of the tale, asking only a few questions, but when they were done, she motioned Katrin over. “Come here, girl. Let me get a closer look.”

Katrin stood in front of the elf woman, who examined the rune and then ran her fingers over it. “Yes, definitely magic,” the woman said, before turning to Corec. “Now, let me see yours.”

“Oh,” he said, embarrassed as he looked around at the women in the hut. He couldn’t roll up the sleeves on the shirt he wore under his armor, so he’d have to take it off in front of them. He’d left his helmet and gauntlets back with his horse, but it took him several minutes to remove the vambraces, cuirass, chain shirt, padded doublet, and the shirt.

Shavala watched him while he removed the armor, and didn’t avert her gaze once he was bare-chested. Katrin glared at the girl, though Corec wasn’t sure why.

Meritia grabbed his arm, staring as intently at his rune as she had at Katrin’s.

“Hmm,” the woman said. “You both believe the itching started in that same village?”

“I don’t know for sure,” Corec said. “I didn’t think anything of it at first. But if it affected us both, it seems likely.”

“If you did nothing else to trigger it, I suspect it happened the moment you first met,” Meritia said.

“So you don’t think the itching is a coincidence?”

“No.”

“We didn’t really meet that first night, though,” Katrin put in. “We never spoke.”

Meritia waved her hand. “That’s of no consequence. Meet, or come in close contact, or see each other. Whatever the trigger, it would have required the two of you to be together.”

“Why?” Katrin asked.

“You know what it is?” Corec said.

“I believe it’s a binding sigil. It’s used to magically bind two people or two things together for one reason or another.”

“Bind us together?” Katrin asked, with a worried tone to her voice. “Why? What does that mean?”

“If you don’t know, then I doubt I can help with that question.”

“But how did it happen?” Corec asked.

Meritia held her hands out wide. “Who can say? Either someone did it when you met, or there was a trigger, as I mentioned.”

“Do you know how to remove it?”

“You’ve come to the wrong place for that,” the woman said. “The elder magic doesn’t concern itself with such things.”

“Elder magic?” Katrin asked.

Meritia looked at her curiously, as if not sure why she was asking the question. “Yes, elder magic.”

Katrin glanced at Corec, but he just shrugged. He didn’t know what the woman meant either.

“You know the four types of magic, yes?” Meritia asked.

Katrin shook her head.

“I know there are wizards and priests,” Corec said, “and I once saw someone here—you, I think—regrow some plants after one of our wagons ran off the trail.” His schooling in Larso had only rarely mentioned magic, and only as something to be avoided, except by the priests of Pallisur.

“Wizards and priests are merely users of magic,” Meritia said. “They are not the magic itself. As I said, there are four types—”

“Elder, arcane, divine, and demonic,” Shavala put in.

“Yes,” Meritia said. “My people look to the elder magic. We cannot help you.”

“Do you know anyone who can?” Katrin asked.

“Perhaps a human wizard? Or one of the nilvasta?”

“Nilvasta?” Katrin asked.

“Silver elves,” Corec said, then faced Meritia. “There are no wizards among your people?”

“A few, but they follow a different path, so they are unlikely to be of any help. In any case, they will not leave Terrillia and you would not be permitted into the city. Seek a human wizard.”

Corec sighed and looked at Katrin. “Tyrsall, then?”

“I can’t go there looking like this!” she said.

“The tattoo story seems to be working.”

“Everybody looks at me funny!”

“What about a hat?”

She’d opened her mouth to speak, but stopped in surprise to consider that. “Maybe. I can’t think of any styles that would hide a spot that far down on my forehead, though.”

“You could wait outside the city and I’ll try to bring someone to you. Tyrsall’s the closest place I can think of where I’m sure we could find a wizard.”

It took a moment, but finally she nodded in agreement.

“What’s wrong with how you look?” Shavala asked.

“I can’t go into the city with a glowing tattoo on my head!”

“It’s small,” Shavala said. “It looks pretty.”

Katrin looked at the girl incredulously, but before she could reply, Meritia said, “You’re concerned about people seeing the sigil?”

“Yes!”

“Why not conceal it?”

“It’s too hot out to wear my cloak all the time, and I tried makeup but it didn’t work.”

“No,” the woman said, shaking her head. “I meant ... I’m not sure trade tongue has a word for it. Veil? Shroud?”

“What do you mean?” Corec asked.

“Binding sigils are not usually malicious. I believe they can be hidden by the bearer.”

“How?” Katrin asked.

“I’ve never heard that mentioned. As I said, sigils are not a thing of the elder magic.”

Katrin frowned but nodded.

“Thank you, Meritia,” Corec said. “Is there anything else you can tell us?”

“You asked why it happened,” she said, looking at Katrin. “I can’t answer that, but you can be sure there’s a reason.”

Deciding the woman was done examining his rune, Corec put his clothing and armor back on. Shavala was still staring at him openly, and he wasn’t sure what to make of the attractive girl’s frank gaze. It had him so distracted, he didn’t pay any attention when his left arm started itching.

After the humans had left the hut, Shavala turned to Meritia. “Am I ready for my travels now?”

“Do you think you’re ready?”

“You ended my lessons months ago, and said I must start learning from experience.”

“And why do you wish to leave now? Are you planning to follow the humans?”

“They’re interesting.”

“Perhaps, but I don’t know why they’re interesting yet, which worries me. And if you’re after the boy, be careful. The girl isn’t as annoyed by him as much as she pretends, and humans can be funny about such things.”

“I’m not after the boy!”

Meritia raised an elegant eyebrow. “You were certainly staring at him enough.”

“His muscles were ... nice,” Shavala admitted. He’d been more well defined than the elven men she’d tried out, mostly friends of Ellisan. Never Ellisan himself, of course—they’d grown up together, and she couldn’t view him that way.

“Human men do have a rather unfair advantage there. Some of them, at least. Are you leaving now?”

“After I pack. I will follow them for a bit before I decide whether to travel with them. Perhaps I will go my own way. But I would like to see Tyrsall, and the sea.”

Meritia nodded. “Before you go, I’ve got something for you.” She opened the door to her finely carved wardrobe and rummaged around, returning with a small bag.