Iron Elf - A Race Reborn (Book 2) (24 page)

Elsa let us in, then slammed the gate behind us. We were joined by two identical human women. The twins were very muscular and wore thick heavy boots.

Mina tried to be friendly. “They sure grow them big in the Northlands. I’m Mina. What’s your name?”

“Breeda,” said the one with the shaved head. “Brooda,” said the one with the mohawk.

“I… see.” She leaned closer to Borlog. “Are these traditional human names?” she whispered.

“Some men don’t even name their daughters,” he said. “My own sisters were given numbers instead. Number Five was my favourite.”

The ground was dusted in snow. Our breath fogged around us and the chill reached into our bones. But we walked in beauty.

“These are the first natural rocks I’ve seen since we went up the mountain,” Zukaldi said. “But again, these formations are not natural.”

“This is a garden,” Yang said. “A garden of ice and stone.”

He was right. Although the half-elf sensed no plants under the snow it still looked like a garden in winter. It reminded me of my mother’s work at Findecano House.

“We will leave you here,” Elsa said. “Find the abbess yourselves.”

After the human women had gone, I asked what their problem was.

“They’re some of the last people to make it through the portal,” Sandy said. “They were furious at having to leave their weapons behind.”

I wandered off. There was a good-sized pond in the middle of the garden. The water was still liquid, despite the cold.

“Is a garden still a garden without a single growing thing?”

The abbess was wrapped in a white robe. She sat on a rock, legs crossed in meditation. “I had to calm myself. I used to be a shield maiden not unlike those women. Is a garden still a garden in the desert?”

“I didn’t see you there, Abbess. Why would anyone have a garden in the desert?”

“Why indeed?”

I thought about it. “The wilderness is infinite, but a garden has boundaries, and nothing inside those boundaries is an accident. A garden is the work of an ordered mind. Someone always chooses to set it apart from the wilderness. Why can’t it choose the desert? It’s as likely a place as the bottom of the sea or the roof of the world.”

“And here your mother thought she’d failed to teach you anything about art. How is Tari, by the way? And call me Olympia—Abbess is just my job.”

“Mother is doing well. I must say, you’re a lot friendlier than when I was a lay nun.” She’d been like the mountain peak: visible but distant.

Olympia shrugged. “I didn’t want to favour you just because Tari and I are friends.”

“What’s so special about this garden? Does it carry the secrets of the temple in its geometry? Does it hold insights into forbidden fighting techniques?”

“I wanted something to look at. Keeps me mellow.” She got up and walked to the pond. The water remained liquid despite the cold. Olympia waved a hand and the water fell away, revealing a dark hole. “This is the secret of my island.”

CHAPTER 20: ANGROD

“Whoah,” I said.

We were back in the tub. Blood flowered in the water. Dagonet had a nosebleed, and so did I. “No! My precious bodily fluids!”

She pinched her nose. “Grow up, sir.”

“You realize, of course, that we have to get married now?” I held up my hands. “Just kidding! Please don’t stab me.”

“To finish my report, I was forced to take my time returning here. Almost the entire invasion force gave chase.”

I could halfway remember. Days spent being tired, hungry, and afraid. “I’m glad you made it. Why don’t you take it easy for the next few days?”

She shook her head. “I should get word back to Brandish. Our people need to know.”

“Excellent point. We’ll leave tomorrow.”

She looked at me. “Sir. You ought to stay and fight Hafgan. If you can end this war with a swing of your sword, think of the lives you’ll save.”

It was nearly dawn when I stepped out of the apartment. I was dressed for the hunt. Nobody would wonder if I saddled a horse and disappeared for the day. By the time they started looking, I’d be long gone.

Dagonet had slipped out in the night. She was headed for the nearest fairy ring. Neither of us knew how to activate those things but there was enough tourism that she could attach herself to a group of travellers. That, too, was my plan. In a hunting cloak I’d pass as any other capran. I walked quickly but silently down the hall.

Someone giggled. “Shh, someone will hear!”

“Nadine! I’ve waited so long.”

I peeked around the corner. It was Lister and one of the prettier maids. They embraced in one of the doorways.

“I’m supposed to be baking! Hee!”

“But I love you so much. Can’t you spare a moment for your husband?”

My sparring partner did say he was married, but he hadn’t told me his wife worked in the palace. Still hidden in shadow, I crept away.

I encountered no other obstacles on the way to the stables. I saddled a horse and left.

Dagonet lay in her makeshift hunting blind. She had a good view of the trail. Thanks to her water magic she didn’t need binoculars to see when a familiar rider came over the rise. Angrod, running out on the duel.

She wasn’t surprised. Fighting Hafgan was certain death and the caprans would probably invade no matter what. She couldn’t help but be disappointed in her boss, however. Her true master hadn’t said anything about killing him, but he hadn’t mentioned not killing him either. Elendil assassins were supposed to think for themselves.

She sighed. Angrod had until he reached the portal to change his mind. He could either turn back to die like a man, or continue and die like a coward, with hand on his mouth and a knife in his back. One way or another, he wasn’t going home.

I felt bad about breaking my promise to Arawn but he had set me up to get killed. Much as I appreciated him saving Heronimo’s life, that didn’t mean I owed him a life in return. Especially not mine!

I’d made good time. I’d reach the fairy ring early next morning. My mount Slippy was built like a warhorse, but, unusually, also made a fine riding horse. He had a gait that was comfortable, sustainable, and fast. You don’t know how much I appreciated that. Speaking as a long-distance riding veteran, saddle sores are a real pain. Capran horses weren’t much stronger or faster than regular horses. They were smarter, though. It was probably the centaur ancestry. More important, they were easier to maintain. Regular horses would die if you looked at them funny, but if you could take care of a dog, you could take care of a capran horse.

Last time I’d been in the Silver World Arawn had given me a gift of three horses. That gift had helped me established a herd in Corinthe that was a match for anything in the realm. Take that, Mithenian snobs!

And just like that, I was once again thinking about Arawn, and what I owed him. Damn damn damn.