“Forgive us,” I say. “We were… detained.”
Theren glances over his shoulder. “One of our scouts saw the bodies.”
I pause. “Do you not fear getting caught by Arion?”
He shakes his head. “Arion is a fool, and our magic is strong.”
I consider this, remembering the heavy glamor that had been placed over the city. It might be some of the strongest magic I’ve seen in a long time.
What kind of artifact could hold such power?
“Fear not,” Theren continues, “for we sent word to Vaer’Tharion Selric around noon. Preparations will have been made for tomorrow.”
It takes a moment for me to place the title, the term roughly translating to‘High Warden.’
“He is your brother?” I ask, wondering how old the king of these people would be if the elf at my side is already quite mature.
“Correct. Selric is Lorien’s father,” he says. Then, as if catching the way I stare at the buildings, he continues, “We are not a part of the Elven Dominion, so you can rest easy. They will not find you here. This land has been hidden for a very long time. Mrath is our only contact with the outside elven world. And, I must admit, I am quite eager to get to know you both. I know Lorien is too.”
He gestures at the way his nephew points out dozens of buildings and sculptures to Arlet.
“Thank you,” I say, my mind churning. “And that is good to know. We are not exactly friends with the current high king.”
Theren laughs. “Who is?”
I smile, then return to gazing at the city. Visually, this place is different from the other elven factions I’ve encountered.
Unlike Mrath and her people, they do cut their wood—abundantly, in truth.
They bear no royal insignias to Arion’s court, though. But, from what I can tell, they share many of his ideals. Their social structure must lean heavily toward a patriarchal order if they had laws around the treatment of women without a husband.
“If you are not allied with Arion, then is Selric your King? Or… is Mrath your queen?” I ask.
Theren turns his head slightly. “Selric is the leader of the Vaer’Saryth, similar to a king. Mrath is a very close ally.”
High Saddles?Perhaps a council.
“And your ranking, that I might address you properly?” I ask, much to the chagrin of the man before me.
He smiles as he answers, “I am Theren Saryth’Vaan. I lead the Skyborne. But, the Vaer’Tharion rules over all, Skyborne and Grounded alike.”
I nod thoughtfully as we step through the carved archway leading into the heart of the city. Immediately, we are surrounded by more elves—some curious, others wary.
“We are almost to the room we have prepared for you. In the morning, I will answer any other questions and ensure you are shown a proper tour of the dragons. They are something, no?”
I laugh inwardly. “They are. I am sure my wife will like that very much.”
We fall back into silence as we walk through dimly lit halls carved from the mountain, the stone smooth beneath our boots. When we finally reach our assigned quarters, Theren pulls open a heavy wooden door and steps aside.
“Here we are. Thank you again for your service in saving this little hell-raised pup.” Theren nods his head to Lorien. “Till morning.”
I incline my head slightly and Arlet waves as he and Lorien leave.
Once the door is shut, we turn and look around. The room is sparse but warm, with a low-burning hearth and blankets foldedneatly atop a stone-framed bed. Arlet releases a slow breath, then turns to me and smiles.
“Thrown together yet again,” I murmur.
She laughs. Some of the post-dragon riding glow has dimmed, but she looks mostly fine. Just tired.