Heir of Dust and Wind

Chapter 27 - Desperate Means

This entrance was different.

When Ava had come into High King Farvald's banquet hall for the first time there had been lively chatter at the surrounding tables at first. Now however she was greeted with nothing but tense silence. 

Everyone's eyes were on them, observing their every move, following them across the room and the closer they came to the crescent table, the thicker the air seemed to get. It was as if it hummed with anticipation. Each of her steps and that of her companions echoed eerily in the huge room.

The tiredness that had felt like a leaden blanket after the drain of the quest was completely gone now. Instead, her heart thundered in her chest and her veins brimmed with the adrenaline. Even though she had no clue what to do when she'd finally arrive in front of the table ahead, there was no possibility to pause, hesitate or go back. 

Behind her the chains of the prisoner rattled unnaturally loud in her ears, doing nothing to ease her growing tension and desperation to find a way out of this. But neither she nor Trygve or Gainor had had any idea how to do that. Just as it filled the large hall, the silence was all she felt through their bond.

They had decided to bring the Fae with them, as it was the only way of finding out how the magic that bound her to the bargain with Orla would react to him being handed over, the best case being that she wouldn't be affected. Still, even if the wording of the bargain had been precise enough to apply only to Goblin prisoners, Ava felt her stomach twist and churn uncomfortably at the thought. 

The fate of being completely at the Council's mercy was something she wished not even to her worst enemy.  On top of that, she didn't know if the stranger was indeed their enemy. Since he had been Dunstan's captive this surely accounted for him being opposed to his mad plans, right?

Then again, his clothes clearly marked him as a soldier who had fought against the sorcerers in the war. Trygve had made his resentment towards him more than clear. While she understood his agony, having lost someone so close to him at the hands of the Fae, Ava still struggled with condemning the male behind her purely for what kind of being he was. Wouldn't that make her just as bad as the Aldermen on the table ahead?

But maybe it wasn't the only thing that was troubling her. 

She had found herself mesmerized by the man in the leather armour, that Trygve now tugged alongside him as they made their way towards the crescent table ahead. Even though he was filthy and reeked terribly from the centuries he had had to spend in the dungeons, something about him fascinated her.

This shouldn't have come as a surprise, however. All the Fae, Fairies and Elves in her cherished novels had been creatures of beauty. Yet, none of the descriptions quite succeeded in capturing the grace with which he moved or the intensity of his cerulean gaze when it met hers. 

Nevertheless, she would have been a fool to mistake him for anything else than the lethal weapon that he was. By now, she'd spent enough time in Frode's gym, observing the Dracaenis' training to recognise a trained warrior when she saw one.

Strangely, it had felt as if he had been watching her too and although she probably was the first woman he had seen in a long time – and the only ever sorceress for that matter – it hadn't been the same lingering stares as those by Njall. 

Realising with a start that they'd almost reached the Council, coming ever closer to facing their potential doom, Ava cursed inwardly. 

How could she have let her mind wander like this when there were much more important problems right in front of her? There certainly were more pressing matters now – survival being at the top of her to-do list - and no real plan of how to accomplish just that.