Blood of Elven

Chapter Twenty-Two

A high-pitched chirping invaded her senses as Khionia slowly rose from the black depths of her deep slumber. Chirping and, yes, the sound of the crows' caws as they flapped by overhead. A small voice within her mind whispered, ah, so Ciaran has finally lifted the shifting for good. She smiled to herself as she remained in her semi-conscious state, keeping her eyes closed so she could enjoy the soft sounds of life around her. She could hear the cracking of sticks and scuffing of stone as her companions ambled among her, the soft murmur of hushed conversations at a small distance.

It occurred to her, as she listened, that she hadn't had slept without dreaming in months, if not years. It felt nice to drowsily wake up instead of startling awake from nightmares; even if she could feel the stiffness in her legs and back from her seated position.

Memories of the previous night bled into her mind as she lifted her eyelids slowly, her eyes gliding automatically to where her hand that had previously been on Bash's forehead was now grazing the ground.

Panic bloomed in her chest as she realized the Underling was no longer beside her, and then grew as she looked to her lap and the lack of Mashilla's sleeping head. But her panic was quickly abated when the quiet and tentative voice of the elfling asking a question floated toward her. Scanning the campsite before her through the predawn darkness, she found the small form of Mashilla walking just ahead.

"When are you going to do it?" Mashilla was trailing behind the massive form of Orlan as he circled the small hill of piled Whisps and Willows alike. Orlan was in the process of tying back his ebony curls so that only half of his hair hung down his back while the other remained in a knot at the base of his skull. His face was serious as he surveyed the mass before him but a quick wince at Mashilla's question told Khionia that it was not the first time she had asked this morning; and likely it would not be the last.

"Soon, small one. I need to make sure I begin the fire in the right place so as to utilize as little energy as possible. Magic does not come in endless supplies, unfortunately. And we have much to do today." His words were factual but spoken with the tone of one who had a great deal of experience talking with elflings. For the first time, Khionia found herself wondering about the Underlings' pasts, about how they came to be who they are today; how they came to be where they are today. Perhaps Orlan is the oldest of a long line of siblings. Perhaps he has a mate and family back at home, and was torn away because of his skills in order to be a part of this Underling company of warriors to find her and her brother. Discomfort coursed through her at the thought.

Mashilla groaned in impatience, but continued to follow Orlan all the same as he continued his surveillance. "Cal probably could have handled this by now," she mumbled to herself, though Khionia caught the quick dart of her eyes up to the Underling's face. Orlan's face tightened for a brief instant but then fell into an easy amusement with the elfling's attempt to goad him. She could have sworn she saw the elfling sigh.

Khionia continued to scan her surroundings. Ciaran had returned to his elven form, and was currently passing dried fruit and meat out to Underlings as he prowled through the small camp. He tossed Khionia her share when he felt her gaze upon him but did not utter a word.

Cal was still asleep across from her, curled on his side under his cloak, though she noted that he was muttering softly which typically meant he was close to awakening.

Ryce was talking quietly with Donnegan and Avalon, while Aislin was searching the battle field for arrows that had been fired the previous night. Daeman, once again, was nowhere to be found.

She did not see Bash among the others, yet the panic that wanted to rise was pushed back down by the lack of anxiety in any of her companions as they milled about in preparation for the day. Still, Khionia was angry at herself; angry that she was clearly incapable of keeping watch effectively. She had not left her seated position, had not left his side all night. Clearly, that did not matter if he could leave his position without her knowing.