Sinking further into the pillows, Jahrra tried to will the lingering dizziness away. As embarrassing as fainting in front of a crowd of strangers was, it could’ve been a lot worse. Ellyesce might be dead now instead of just wounded; she, or Dervit, or Phrym could’ve been shot; Jaax may have been captured and chained by the Red Flange …
Feeling sick for an entirely different reason, Jahrra leaned forward.
“Where is Jaax? And Phrym?” she asked Dervit.
The limbit removed his hat and started worrying it between his hands. “Phrym is with the other horses, in the stable just down the road, resting. Jaax is in a meeting with the steward of Cahrdyarein.”
The worry churning in Jahrra’s stomach turned bitter. Had her guardian even bothered to check on her? She opened her mouth to ask, but a sharp rap on the door interrupted her.
“Lady Jahrra? May I come in?”
Jahrra froze. The voice was familiar, but where had she heard it? The image of ice-blue eyes set in a handsome face framed by pale blond hair came to mind. The elf who’d spoken to her before she passed out. Jahrra placed her hands over her face and gave a groan. As much as she’d like to throw the sheets over her head and hide, it would only be worse if she didn’t answer. Besides, Dervit was there playing witness to everything.
Taking a deep breath, Jahrra dropped her hands and said with what she hoped was an even tone, “Uh, yes. Come in.”
The door cracked open, and she got a swift view of a wide dirt road dusted with snow, a clustering of more cabins like her own, and a sliver of blue sky before the elf stepped in. He was no longer dressed in armor, but wore instead a pair of black pants and a blue tunic. The clothing was simple, but elegant, and Jahrra found herself admiring the way the design complimented the elf’s regal features.
“I see you’ve recovered well,” he commented, looking her up and down.
“Yes,” she managed, scraping her hair out of her face. “I just woke up. Dervit here was telling me what I missed.”
“Ah! The brave limbit. I must confess, the sight of that dragon bearing down on us in all his flaming fury had many scattering for cover. This lad here, however, put himself in harm’s way and even took the initiative to tell Raejaaxorix what was going on.”
Jahrra felt her eyebrows arch of their own accord, turning her stunned gaze onto Dervit. The limbit, who had stepped down from the chair and now stood beside it, turned beet red.
“For a while, I was worried he might end up like those red and black clad soldiers,” their visitor continued.
When Jahrra found her voice, she said, “Then, I guess I can’t say I’m sorry that I passed out. Jaax is nearly impossible to reason with when he’s in one of his dark moods.”
The elf actually laughed, a sound that made Jahrra’s skin tingle.
“Your friend here handled it quite well,” he added with a charming grin.
Jahrra offered her own smile. “He’s been proving himself very helpful since we ran into him just before the crossroads.”
The elf nodded and then remained quiet for a spell. He spent a few moments simply studying the room, just as she had.
When the silence became too oppressive, Jahrra cleared her throat and said, “I, um, wanted to thank you for helping us. At the gate. I do believe our entrance was a little more dramatic than what we had planned for.”
“Do not apologize,” the elf insisted, stepping farther into the room. He moved with an agile grace Jahrra recognized all too well. She imagined he was an accomplished swordsman and wondered if he would be open to pitting his skills against hers later. She’d not had the chance to practice these past few weeks, and she was eager to get back to her training.
“In fact, I should be apologizing. I have not yet given you my name. I am Keiron, Keiron Fairlein.”
He held out a hand, and Jahrra had no choice but to accept it. She expected him to shake it, but instead he gave a slight bow and pressed his lips to her fingers. A blush burned across her face. Which was ridiculous. He was just being polite, and even if he had any interest in her whatsoever, she’d garnered the attention of young men before. What was so different about this elf?
Jahrra quickly brushed away those thoughts before they got her into trouble. “Pleased to meet you, Keiron,” she managed. “As you know, I am Jahrra, and this is Dervit.”
She indicated the limbit, who was gazing at Keiron with a strange mix of astonishment and curiosity.
“It is nice to meet you both, but I think I shall leave the two of you to rest now. I simply wanted to check in on you and introduce myself. I understand you’ll be staying with us for a few weeks or more, so I hope you will take the opportunity to make yourselves known to the citizens of Cahrdyarein.”
He bowed again, and turned to leave but paused when his eyes fell upon Jahrra’s belongings: her saddlebags, longbow, quiver and sheathed sword, piled against the far wall. Keiron glanced over his shoulder and gave her a wicked grin.
“And, I hope you’ll do me the honor of joining me on the practice field when you are feeling up to it. I would like to see what you can do with that sword.”
Jahrra’s heart kicked at her ribcage, and her mouth curved into a brilliant smile.
“Oh, I will definitely take you up on that offer!” she exclaimed.
“And I’ll hold you to that promise.” Keiron smiled again, gave her a quick wink, then headed out the door.
As soon as the elf was gone, Dervit climbed back onto the chair, like a dog returning to his bed after someone he didn’t trust left his home.
Jahrra crossed her arms casually and arched a brow at her limbit friend, considering Keiron’s words from earlier.
“Did you really stand up to Jaax?” she queried.
Dervit grumbled and looked anywhere but at Jahrra. “He was still spitting bits of fire when he landed, and then he headed straight for us. I didn’t want him to hurt you.”
Jahrra felt a warm, comfortable sensation settle around her heart.
“Thank you, Dervit,” she said sincerely, placing a hand on his shoulder. “But you needn’t worry. Jaax would never hurt me.”
Dervit shook his head. “Not intentionally,” he agreed. “I was just worried that he was too upset to know he was still breathing fire.”
Jahrra nodded. “That very well could be true. Either way, I appreciate your valor, but I wouldn’t want you to get hurt, either.”
Another knock at the door, this one softer than Keiron’s, had Jahrra thinking she should probably get out of bed. Grunting a little at the new soreness in her muscles, she made her way to the door, determined to open it herself this time. On the other side stood a female elf dressed in a formal gown of silvery blue fabric. Clustered behind her was a small crowd of young elvin men and women, all of them similarly dressed in varying shades of blue, silver and white.
“So, you have recovered,” the woman said with a cool smile that didn’t reach her eyes.
Jahrra nodded, taking note of the small woven circlet perched atop her head.