The Ancients

Chapter 20

"Shh!" Vipin hissed pulling the Calsolis Elf away from the door.

Liam's eyes went wild, looking at the door handle like someone would start jiggling it at any moment. Ryland remained still, his eyes on Vipin's hand gripping Ajlen, his eyes glancing between their faces.

"Well?" Ajlen demanded, ripping his arm free from Vipin's grasp.

"It would seem so," Liam tried to answer calmly, but his voice was still trembling.

"Why didn't you tell us?"

"We found out the same time you did," Vipin's jaw clenched and ear twitched with frustration.

"It seems like fleeing your country is a detail we deserved to know," he snapped, his own ears fluttering with anger.

"We've been a bit preoccupied." Liam took a deep breath to calm his heart that was throbbing in his chest.

Ajlen cursed in elvish. "Too preoccupied to let us know we should have been avoiding towns?"

"Ajlen," Ryland started, moving his way slowly between Ajlen and Vipin's deadly glares. "They couldn't have known."

"Couldn't have known their actions have consequences?" Ajlen hissed.

"Our uncle died!" Vipin snarled. "Died making sure we could make it to my father! Do not speak to us like we don't understand consequences!"

"You should have thought about that before you ran away!" Ajlen spat, looking at her over Ryland's shoulder.

"We weren't running!" Vipin snapped.

"Well you are now!"

"It would seem so," Liam tried getting the tension to ease in the room. "We're sorry we didn't tell you we committed a small bit of treason. Okay? But in case you didn't notice we have bigger problems than keeping secrets."

Ajlen took a deep breath, closing his eyes.

It took a few moments before his ears stopped trembling. When he opened them again the flame that flickered in his eyes fell squarely on Vipin. "The next time you lie, keep Zaoron's name out of your mouth."

There it was. The true reason for the Calsolis Elf's anger.

Vipin's lips pressed together in a tense understanding. "I'm sorry." Her words were genuine but still hot with anger.

Ryland turned around to face her. "You know, we don't know if we're going to find your father," his storms leveled with her riverbeds. "He might be dead."

The fire she had in her chest flared. Vipin's ears pinned against her head; she couldn't stop herself from grabbing the elf up by his collar with a snarl.

She spun Ryland around so fast he dropped the cloak of venison on the floor.

"Say it again," she hissed, pinning him to the wall with her forearm against his throat. She leaned into her arm, feeling his breath becoming ragged beneath the pressure but he stared at her blankly, unmoving. "SAY IT AGAIN!" she seethed.

Her words were hot, her arms were shaking. Some part of her, some quiet voice of reason in the back of her mind whispered to her.

She knew she was going too far, that he was right, but her body wouldn't listen. Her veins flooded with the guilt from her uncle's death. Anger at her king for ordering it. Fear for her father: the ultimate reason for his death.