Tales of the Vangen: The Dead King of Danic (Book 3)

Chapter 11: A New Day

The mask came for Elba in her sleep again. It chased her down a narrow stone hallway, tapestries and portraits blurring past in angry streaks of color. Her chest heaved, her muscles ached, but no matter how hard or how fast she ran, the mask was always behind her.

A door flashed into view, seemingly out of nowhere, and she took it without hesitation. The polished metal handle burned in her grasp as she rammed her way through, teeth gritted in silent agony as she barreled into the room.

Three sturdy walls greeted Elba like hungry executioners, pockmarked and gouged, rough stone patchworked in grimy plaster. She turned on her heel, tried to run back, but a hand as pale as porcelain shot out of the darkness and snatched her off her feet. A face loomed out from the darkness, hidden beneath an ivory mask, malice pouring from two golden pin holes.

"Give him back," a voice whispered, soft as snowfall yet sharp as a dagger. "Give him back to me!"

Elba's eyes flew open. Warmth greeted her first, soft tickles from the blanket around her. Then there was sound, bird song and the soft snoring of her still sleeping husband. Finally, there was flooding relief as she realized she was safe, that the tightness around her throat was not the grip of a pale hand, but merely her own fear playing tricks on her. It had to be.

She sighed and nestled back into the folds of the blanket, pulling her man close, feeling his heartbeat thump gently against her palm. He gave a soft little sigh and smiled and she couldn't help but wonder at how quickly he'd grown in the past year. In Middengard he'd fidgeted relentlessly in his sleep, murmuring and whimpering like a frightened dog. Now he lay beside her as peaceful as a sleeping babe.

What had happened, she wondered. What had changed? She reached out and crooned a locket of curly hair around his eyes and he groaned, shifting the blanket as he stirred, the shoulder of his left arm poking out. Dark lines ran down his flesh in strange, geometric patterns, a grim answer to her question.

A lot had changed, she realized. A lot had happened. He'd met her in Middengard a crippled man and had lost an arm to walk again, the remaining limb a mass of frightening scars. The memory of that place still made her skin crawl. She nuzzled closer into Libro, burying her face in his curly locks as she settled back to sleep, taking in her man's scent.

Elba's stomach heaved. She gagged and rolled away, teeth gritted in desperation as she fought back the need to vomit. Nausea roiled through her like a sickening wave and she peeled back the blankets, destroying what little peace was left as Libro snorted awake.

"What happened?" He called out groggily, eyes rolling as he shook his head. "What's going on?" He snatched up his sword, metal hissing as he drew it. "Elba?"

"Everything's fine," Elba groaned, grabbing hold of a small table for support as she peeled her dark locks back. "Put that damned sword away before you poke an eye out." A fresh wave crashed into her guts and she bent over, sour sick tickling the back of her throat. "I think this city's cooking just isn't agreeing with me right now. Too rich for the likes of my simple pallet."

"We had cabbage soup last night." Libro sheathed his sword, placing it down to light a candle instead, filling the room with a gentle warmth. She could see him clearly now, leg muscles defined in thin lines of shadow, the dark marks on his left arm a stark contrast. His violet eyes glittered as he walked over, brows furrowed with concern. "Are you okay?"

Elba swallowed, her stomach slowly but surely unclenching. "I'm fine. I must have eaten the bad part of the soup then. Luck of the draw, I reckon."

Libro regarded her for a moment. "Not as if there was much good in that soup to begin with. I'd rather eat Moss's salted beef before I have another bowl of that foul shit ever again." He set the candle down on the table, taking her hand in his and pressing it to his cheek. She smiled as the little hairs on his chin tickled her, the boy she'd met in Middengard gleaming out for the barest instant.