A Mischievous Tale of Magical Mayhem

9 | Rainy Nights and Rough Roads

With the greatest hospitality, they were led below decks to generous cabins and invited to rest. While Tallon slept in a luxurious hammock, Ben made use of an ingenious shower which, while cold, proved refreshing. Maisie was given her own chambers, and once she shut herself in, she did not emerge again for some time.

Clean, and clothed in soft elven garb, Ben pulled on a pair of silk stockings, wiggling his toes in the squishy fabric. A pair of boots small enough to fit an elven child had been set out for him, and Ben slipped them on his feet with a smile. They were the most comfortable shoes he'd ever worn, let alone owned, and he was afraid to walk anywhere, lest he ruin them.

Eventually, Ben left the wash room behind; he had to sleep, and he'd rather do that in a hammock than on the wet floorboards. Following the corridor until he found stairs, he ascended to the deck and sought out Tallon's cabin.

Willing himself to remain hidden in the shadows, no one noticed him as he moved across the deck. Not that anyone had followed them around the ship. The elves were gracious; nothing at all like the stories people spouted at the Tularal. These people were rugged, yet willing to open their home to the most unlikely trio to ever gain an audience.

He only passed one crewman—a man wearing knee high brown boots, loose, cream-colored breeches, and a wide leather belt over a dark green tunic—magically dragging a stack of curved wood and tools. The lumber obscured Ben from sight, and they passed each other with no interruptions—other than Ben bumping into a wall when he'd craned his neck to gawk at the use of magic.

Once he found their accommodations, Ben checked on Tallon, but the elf was sound asleep. Fann lay in the corner on a blanket, a bowl of water at his side and Sprout asleep in his fur. Reassured that all was well, Ben took off his new boots, fell into his own hammock with a sigh, and was asleep before it stopped swinging.

A light touch on his shoulder woke him, and he opened his eyes to see Maisie at his side.

"Time to go, sleepy-head," she whispered.

Ben sat up groggily. "Already?"

"Aye. Ye've slept near a full day, an' the queen says we ought to set out this morning while there's a break in the weather. 'Nother storm's on the way."

Ben glanced at Tallon, but the elf still slept.

"The queen said not to disturb 'im," Maisie interjected quickly. "Whatever that curse did to 'im, it wore 'im out. Get dressed and cleaned up. There's breakfast on the table. I'll meet you on deck."

She left him to it, and Ben rose and did as she'd said; it was easy enough to gather his things, as he hadn't unpacked them yet.

Reluctant to part without a proper farewell, he approached the hammock in which Tallon lay. He leaned over him, brushing aside silver locks struck through with strands of periwinkle, and dared press a kiss to the elf's brow.

I don't know if you can hear me, Tallon, he said, sending the thought along the link that bound them, But... I love you. I wanted to say that, in case...

He laughed to himself, remembering the first kiss he'd stolen from the elf. Then, too, he'd been about to embark on a dangerous mission from which he doubted he'd return.

Well, you know. Anyway, I'll be back soon. Don't worry about me.

Tallon shifted in his sleep and tightened his grasp on Ben's hand. "Etali..."

"What?" Ben leaned closer, but Tallon had slipped back into dreams, which Ben hoped were more pleasant than those that plagued him on land.

Wondering what 'Etali' meant, and if it were the name of some fair elf-maiden whom Tallon missed, Ben left him to his rest.