Chapter 4:

Maybe it was sleeping under a proper roof for the first time in weeks or the excitement of the previous day, but Callum and Rayla slept like the dead.

Callum was the first of the two to stir, he stretched, rolled onto his back and opened his eyes to see Ankora staring down at him. She hunched slightly, sipping from a water skin. The rest of the house was quiet.

"Human." she said. It wasn't a question or even particularly addressed to him. It was merely a statement of fact.

Callum weighed his options. She almost certainly did not remember him. He knew that sometimes people forgot things after too many drinks, but he had never seen anyone as far gone as Ankora had been. He also knew that people got bad headaches after overindulging. To her he must be some strange intruder in her house, and a likely-hostile human at that.

She had fallen for the disguise before, but he hadn't worn it to bed. A critical oversight. He decided to come across as non-threatening as possible and stayed lying flat on his back.

"...Callum," he said, placing one palm on his chest, the other on the ground, palm up. She nodded and sipped from a water skin, her eyes ringed with dark bags like half moons. Even from his low angle, Callum could tell that Ankora was short. Like her compatriots, her clothing was ratty. A thin lavender shirt with loose sleeves that covered half her torso, exposing the slight paunch of her gut. Her pants were loose fabric, affixed with a simple tied cord. Her eyes, a deep gray, were irritated and bloodshot, but intelligent and appraising.

Her hair hung in messy clumps all around her head. Frizzy and unkempt. Unlike the other elves Callum had met who had thin, almost non-existent hair on their faces, Ankora's eyebrows were thick and almost met in the middle.

"Ankora." she said, nodding her head down slightly.

Callum looked to Rayla, but she was sleeping on her side with her back facing him, curled around Zym, who was also fast asleep.

"Nice to meet you," Callum said, sputtering, "Well, we met last night, they told me your name at least." He thought he could see the slightest tinge of embarrassment beneath the apathy.

"Ah," she said, "Sorry about that."

She deliberated for a second, then walked over to Callum. He was the first human she'd ever met and she wanted a closer look.

Callum lay stock still as the elf walked over to him, stopping by his head. Neither said a word as she stared down at him for a few moments. Then she kneeled down next to him and grabbed his head.

Callum was reminded of advice his aunt Amaya had given him in case of a banther attack. One must remain as still as possible.

The hungover elf scruffed his hair and grunted. Then she gently but firmly rotated his head to the left and felt the tip of his ear. She grunted again and nodded. After what felt like an eternity she grabbed his wrist with one hand and his pinky with the other. She rotated his finger around and pulled on it, not hard enough for it to be painful.

"You got an extra on your feet too." she said, phrasing it not quite as a question, but not quite as a statement either.

"I have five, toes on each foot, I don't know if they're extraaahh!" He was interrupted when she grabbed his jaw and examined his teeth.

She examined for a short while, turning his head this way and that. Right when Callum started to involuntarily salivate she let go of him.

"Heard you had sharp teeth." she said.

"I heard you had fangs," Callum responded.

The elf nodded, Callum couldn't read her eyes.

"Come on," she said, nodding towards the door, "Don't want to wake the others."

Callum started to get up. "You probably don't remember last night but Rayla and I met Quinn and Sloan and Quinn bound himself so if you hurt me or Rayla it'll cut off his arm not that I think you want to hurt me or anything but if you did he thinks I'm ok and Sloan wants me to show him my sketchbook I held your hair while you threw up.."

Ankora pinched the bride of her nose and pressed shut her eyes. "I'm not going to hurt you kid, just have questions." she said. "Anyone ever tell you you talk too much?"

Callum rose blushing. "Yes." he said.

"That's better," Ankora said.

Standing next to her, Ankora was even shorter than Callum had first thought. Her torso was almost as big as his, but her arms and legs were far shorter. The confidence with which she carried herself made her seem bigger than she was.

When she opened the door Callum was surprised to see that it was pitch black outside. Stars shone bright in the sky and the plaza was totally devoid of people.

"Why are we up so early?" Callum asked. Ankora grunted, then spoke "Even if we're invisible, the door ain't. Not as many people out now."

Despite being shorter than Callum, Ankora took long, quick strides, and the prince had to struggle to keep up. "You had questions?" he asked her. She grunted in response.

"Yeah. I'll ask em when we get to the well." she said.

"Oh!" Callum said, "We're drawing water?"

Ankora nodded. "They got it for me last night, gotta replace it."

"Oh well that's a good policy, my aunt always says…" Ankora abruptly stopped and shoved her water skin into Callum's hand.

"Drink." she said, leaving no room for debate.

In the pentarchy sharing one's food was an almost sacred act. It implied intimacy, peace and friendship. It was a welcome, an unspoken guarantee of safety and comradery. Callum wasn't sure if this was true for moonshadow elves, but he hoped it was.

Callum smiled, pressed the skin to his lips, drank deep, and gagged. Rather than water, a pungent taste like rotting fruit filled his mouth. It would be rude to spit it out, so he forced himself to swallow. The liquid burned his mouth and throat on the way down, and when he exhaled through his nose he felt the residual fumes clear out his sinuses. Ankora started to laugh.

Callum had drank wine before, a small glass at dinner occasionally, this was not that. He had never drank it before, but it tasted like the liquor Soren had described the Katolan army recruits drinking. 'Rotgut' he'd called it.

"Is that…" he started to ask

"Hair of the dog!" she said, "best cure for a hangover in the world."

"I really shouldn't drink," Callum said.

"Oh! But you should follow an elven assassin across a continent?" Ankora asked.

She had a point.

"Besides, I refuse to live with someone who can't hold their liquor," she said.

"Oh, we're not staying," Callum said, "Quinn said you three were going to help Rayla and I."

Ankora raised her eyebrow, "This is the first I'm hearing of it," she said, "Quinn's got to stop making promises for other people."

Callum tried to break the tension.

"Well, Thank you," Callum said, handing the skin back to her. They walked in silence until they reached the well, finding their way by the light of the moon. On their trek they saw no one. The silence of the night oppressive, smothering; the weight broken only by the sound of their footsteps, Callum's loping, Ankora's in double time.

Ankora nodded toward a winch that Callum started turning.

Surprisingly, she was the one who broke the silence. "How's Rayla holding up?" Ankora said, not looking up from the well.

"Umm," Callum said, "Fine, I think? She's hard to read." He expected Ankora to barb him, but she simply nodded solemnly.

"Rayla was always driven. Wanted to prove herself. She'll take this hard." she said. "You've traveled with her a while? She trust you?"

Callum swallowed. "Um. about three weeks, and yeah, she's my best friend."

Ankora smiled and nodded. "Good. look out for her, she won't listen to the three of us, but you don't let her push you away."

"Why won't she listen to you?" Callum asked her. Ankora was silent for a few seconds before responding.

"Her's to tell, you'll hear it when you're ready." she said as the bucket of water finally cleared the top of the well.

She grabbed the waterskin filled with the liquor and raised it to her lips. Callum had to shift his weight awkwardly to keep the bucket form descending back into the inky blackness of the well. After what felt like an eternity Ankora burped loudly, smiled a toothy grin at Callum, and slapped the waterskin loud enough that it echoed through the square.

"You could have taken the bucket out of the well you know," she said, "have you never drawn water before? What are you rich or something?"

Callum sputtered, "A prince actually."

Ankora raised a single eyebrow, "Tell me how you and Rayla met." she said, carefully pouring the water into the now-empty waterskin.

Callum recounted the past few weeks of his life, and, other than the occasional question, Ankora let him tell it.

—-

They didn't speak on the way back, and when they returned the house was still. The sun was beginning to crest the horizon behind them, casting their shadows chaotically up the side of the shack, warping at the odd angles and imperfections of the facade.

Ankora opened the door and the creak woke Rayla. "Good to see you Rayla," she said, "didn't think I would."

Rayla Looked over at Callum who simply shrugged.

Quinn came around the corner with a pack slung over his shoulder.

"Oh good! You're getting to know each other! I knew this would work out." He said.

Ankora glared at him. Quinn did his best to ignore her. While this standoff was happening Sloan started into the room, saw what was happening, and quickly turned around and returned to their shared living room.

"What's this about us helping them?" Ankora said, "Quinn, you can't just promise for some stupid quest."

Quinn's eyes were bright, whatever plan he had to convince the nonplussed Ankora, he was sure of it.

"Did the prince catch you up on what was happening?" Quinn asked.

"He did." Ankora responded, coldly.

"Well," Quinn said, "You realize that this could bring peace to the continent right? The son of the man who killed Avizandium returns the dragon prince, prosperity, our honor restored, all of that."

"Get to the point." Ankora said.

Rayla looked shocked, "get to the point? That is the point!"

Ankora looked over, "Listen kid, I appreciate that, but it's not my problem. I'm happy where I am."

Rayla was stunned. She knew that Ankora was an irresponsible woman, Runan had often pointed to her as an example of how not to act, as the antithesis of a good elf, but this was beyond the pale. How could she care so little not only for the fate of others, but her own standing.

"You call last night happy?" Rayla said coldly, "Didn't look happy to me."

Rather than rising to the challenge Ankora smiled and shrugged, "Different strokes for different folks," she said, turning back to Quinn, "Anyway I remain unconvinced."

"Just one second on that," Quinn said, "Sloan! Get in here, nobody's fighting," he called to the back of the house.

Sloan crept around the corner, sensed the tension in the room, took a deep breath and walked inside, standing closest to Callum.

Quinn took to the center of the room, addressing everyone. Rayla thoughthow opposite Runaan Quinn was. Runaan led with few words, and seldom raised his voice, Quinn reminded her more of an unscrupulous merchant.

"As I was saying," he began, theatrically gesticulating, "Honor, peace, prosperity. All good things, but have you considered revenge?"

Ankora's ears perked up, "Explain." she said, sounding intrigued despite herself.

"Just imagine: the four elves who help bring peace are all exiles from the Silvergrove, meanwhile the Elders here did NOTHING to help, if anything they hurt the chances of getting the baby back to his mother," he said, "How stupid would they look if we four waltz in there with the key to peace, only to explain that the Silvergrove thought we weren't good enough. Could you imagine, for all their sanctimony and duty they were less than useless. Zubea will see that"

Ankora's eyes were twinkling, Sloan looked worried.

"We play it cool when we get there," Quinn said, "And when the issue of our ghosting comes up we act like, while it hurts us, they must have had their reasons, but it did hurt us so." he said.

Ankora smiled, "Really twist the knife," she said, "Play the innocent victim, make them sound incompetant, vindictive, I like it."

"Plus it will be easy," Quinn said, "The Storm Spire is what? A week's ride away?" he said, "Plus most of that's uninhabited. For the price of a camping trip we're all heroes, and we get revenge on those who did us wrong. They cast us out without question, they didn't want to help us, they just wanted us gone. Screw them."

Rayla knew this was madness, Quinn was frothing at the mouth, and Ankora had murder in her eyes. "I'm not hurting anyone here," she said, "They don't deserve it."

Quinn softened, Ankora rolled her eyes, Sloan breathed a sigh of relief. "We're not going to hurt anyone Little Ray," he said, "no one is going to get seriously hurt, just some bruised egos and some humiliation, you know how elder Jace likes to say that we are the most stalwart servants of the dragons?"

Even as a child, Rayla had thought that Jace was slimy, the way he puffed himself up and pontificated about duty and honor to kids who were going to die for him. He wore silver and gold inlaid cloaks and guarded his magical talismans jealousy. There were even whispers that he kept a moon primal stone hidden away in his estate. He had grown soft from years of indolence and excess, but still, he commanded respect.

He lived just outside of the main village but still guarded by the illusion in a mansion that the opulent Sunfire Queen Khessa might describe as 'a little much.' He was the primary liaison between the Silvergrove and the outside world. Controlling imports and exports, and commanding tremendous political power. While other Moonshadow elves were content to live simple lives, Jace prided himself on his taste leaning towards the finer things.

"Well," Quinn said, "When they Ghosted you he said, 'what did you expect? She's just like her parents, a coward.'"

Rayla saw red, "Let's ruin him," she said.

Ankora cheered, "I knew you had it in you kid," she said, "Well, I'm convinced, Sloan, are you in."

Inexplicably, Sloan looked down to Callum, seemingly for approval.

"I would like to have you along," Callum said. Sloan smiled and nodded to the group.

Quinn smiled, "And don't worry Ray," he said, "You and the prince get the lion's share of the credit."

Rayla shook her head, "this isn't about credit for me," she said, "It's about making things right."

Ankora rolled her eyes.

"Well," Quinn said, "We all have our reasons, that work for you kid?" he nodded towards Rayla.

"Fine." she said, "But you said it was a week's ride, what're we riding?"

Quinn smiled, "Don't you worry," he said, "I got that all figured out, get packed in the meantime."

The trio of older elves returned to their room. Rayla walked over to Callum.

"Where did you go with her?" Rayla asked Callum, slight worry on her face.

"She wanted to get water," Callum said, "because of last night."

Rayla snorted. "Almost sounds responsible, I never knew her to do anything for anyone but herself."

"You knew her before she was ghosted?" Callum asked.

"Knew is a strong word," Rayla said, "but last night was not the first time I saw her laying in her own puke. She was ghosted two years ago. Just don't expect her to be much help."

Callum started to speak up to defend her, when Sloan came around the corner, a comically large sack slung over his shoulder that clanked with every step he took. Callum was taken aback.

"Did you bring all of your carvings?" Callum asked. Sloan grinned and nodded.

"You said you'd show me your drawings last night," he said, "Would it be ok if I see them?"

Callum pulled out his sketchbook, Sloan dropped the sack, which fell to the floor in a clackering cacophony.

An hour later the other two were ready. Quinn's pack was spare, his sleeping roll, a small blade and a few changes of clothes. Sloan, in addition to his figurines, a few of which he left behind after a spirited debate, carried a small cast-iron pot and a wooden spoon. Ankora wore nine waterskins like saddlebacks on a packmule. Her every step slishing and sloshing.

Now, Quinn said, The rest of our travel kit is with an old friend. Let's pay him a visit, It's a bit of a walk..

—-

Past three gates, The outer one steel, barbed and utilitarian guarded the entrance to the estate. Beyond it lay a smattering of buildings, mainly for housing the help, as well as the shadowpaw stables. An inner gate, this one silver, the delicate strands of which interwoven creating knots, were studded with rubies. This gate stood at the entrance to the gardens, where rows of topiary formed a verdant menagerie. Here an elf, there a banther. One particularly ambitious conglomerate of hedges stood in the form of Sol Regem. The leaves burned where his eyes once were. Finally, a golden gate studded with diamonds

Callum regarded the manse behind the gate. He had visited a few like it in his time. Something about them turned his stomach.

"'Kora?" Quinn said, "This is you."

"Oh! Right," she said, quickly sketching a rune in the air. "Silentium totalus."

"Youre a mage!" Callum said.

"One of the best," she said, "This will keep us from making too much of a clatter."

The grand double doors were each divided into panels. The left showed moments from history, the fall of Sol Regem, the driving of humans from the elven side of the continent, Aaravos falling before Avizandium. The right showed industries and trades. The two stood side by side. Apparent equals in import.

The doors were flanked by servants, standing as soldiers, staring forward into nothing.

Quinn bowed deeply to them as he passed, invisible as he was. He reached out and poked one's face, confusing the poor elf.

"We come here for food all the time," Quinn explained to the dumbstruck Callum and Rayla, "He has never noticed anything wrong, i guess when you have this much it's difficult to keep track of everything."

They made their way up the stairs in front of them, taking care not to run into the servants milling about and turned left.

"He never gets up before noon," Ankora said, "And his servants aren't even allowed in that wing of the house until he gets up."

The door to the private wing of the house was defended by two elves dressed in Sunfire plate, each wielding a sunforged blade. Quinn scoffed. "Don't worry, neither of them are looking at the door, and with the spell Ankora cast, neither will hear us open it."

He produced a thin metal object, casually walked between the warriors and began picking the lock of the door.

The lock opened with a click that went unheard by the soldiers, and the door swung inward. They moved through the restricted wing of the manse, the hallway was straight before curving left. The doors all stood open, one looked in on a study filled with artifacts, another on a private kitchen, one of eight in the house. His personal chef would man it once the wing was open.

"We'll grab what we need from here in a second," Quinn said, "first thing's first."

They rounded the corner and came to a door of garish clashing burgundy and gold. Quinn opened it and ventured inside. A window on the far side of the room looked out on the topiary garden. The window situated just above the leafy Sol Regum. Looking out from it, one looked to be riding the great dragon. Commanding it.

Sloan stood by the wall, Callum joined him. Rayla ventured halfway into the room while Quinn and Ankora walked side by side up to the four poster bed where Elder Jace lay snoring.

—-

Jace was awoken when, seemingly apropo of nothing, he was flung from his bed by an invisible force. He sputtered and rose to his feet looking for his assailant. Before he could call out something crashed into his gut driving all the air from his lungs. He fell to his knees and looked up just in time to see a chair at his table levitate and come flying towards his face, bloodying his nose.

—-

Ankora held the splintered legs of the chair, jeering at the collapsed elder. "How do you like that old man?" Say goodbye to all your shit! It'll be ours soon." she said, "taking your shadow paws too, you flaccid, good-for-nothing leech." She kicked him in the gut. Drawing a wet gurgle from him.

Sloan was covering his eyes with one hand, and holding Callum's with the other.

"I think he's had enough," Rayla said, concerned.

"Booooo, buzzkill!" Ankora said, "Live a little, Ray."

Quinn dragged the elf to his feet and slipped a rag between his teeth, tying the gag. Quinn shrugged, "If anyone deserves it, he does," he said.

Rayla remembered what he had done, thinking back, Jace was the one who most loudly proclaimed her parents cowards. One couldn't hurt. She hit him hard in the ribs.

They bound him to two of the posts of the bed and began ransacking his room.

In addition to another silence spell, they left a note scrawled in parchment on his door. '

Do Not Disturb!