Elven Legacy

Chapter 93

Noah

He couldn't sleep much. He wasn't sure why.

Well, he'd had a bit too much to eat, and his stomach was slightly upset, so maybe that was it. Their dinner of grilled salmon, white wine, with passion fruit pie for dessert had been the last one they could afford, so Noah had wanted to make the most of it. And who could've blame him? From now on they'd be foraging the bottom of saddle bags for scrapes of food, picking berries in the woods, generally improvising and hoping for the best, and maybe, if they were lucky, Jaden would catch something with his bow that had some meat on it.

His heart slowly clenched, a deep ache alighting and simmering across his chest. And it wasn't anything food-related, Noah couldn't kid himself this time. He sat up in the dark.

He yanked away the sheet and bent over, pawing for his clothes in faint moonlight. On the other bed, Fenek was asleep, his breathing profound and even.

Noah found his black pants, leather belt, and his thin gray shirt, loose-collared and short-sleeved. He didn't bother with a jacket, it was a warm night.

He left the room and went down the back stairs, the wood creaking now and again, the inn dark and peaceful around him. It was the kind of hour that was both too late and too early to be up and about. At least for everyone else.

Guided by a few lonely wall lamps no one had bothered to douse, Noah located the door that led out back, and he stepped gratefully out into the fresh night air. Some of the tension eased away from his chest and shoulders at the sight of the half-moon hanging in the sky, its pale brightness echoed across the expanse of white sand and roiling waves. Breathing in deeply as the wind whipped at his hair, Noah made his way down to the beach proper, passing palm trees and empty wooden chairs.

He'd gone for a swim earlier with Dharkan, and the sea salt whiff on the wind recalled that which already clung to his own hair and skin. Noah didn't mind. He rather liked it, actually – you didn't get to swim in the ocean very often when you lived in Quickrivers. Or Hart Delun, for that matter.

Noah remembered thinking earlier, as the beach had been full of noise and people, that it would be pretty sweet to have the place for himself. Well, wish granted.

Hey, there had to be some perks to insomnia.

He stopped about a yard away from where the frothing waves crashed and lapped at the sand. A shiver ran through him, and he slid his hands in his pockets. He let the precious hush of deep night wash over him, staring at the horizon where the ocean taunted him with its vastness, fading into darkness and shimmering stars. Which were beautiful, but it seemed there were not as many as in Hart Delun. Nothing could ever beat the desert night sky.

Alone and as clear-headed as he could possibly be, Noah tried to sort out his thoughts. But gods be damned, it felt like being lost in a maze in his own mind. The thing was, he'd never been a leader before. Now, without realizing it, he'd become one. He was calling the shots and the others were following.

Noah was the one who'd decided to go to Chyulin. He was the one checking the map, announcing breaks, making calculations. He rode Bolt ahead of the others most times – if he was honest, that was mainly Bolt's volition; Kitera's gray stallion sure liked to be at the front.

Anyway, Noah was the one with the conviction that they were doing the right thing. Which felt really lonely.

Because Fenek didn't even know half the story, and it was pretty obvious that he was just excited to follow Noah on his adventures. As for Dharkan, he was basically tagging along because he felt guilty about the Thebrenna disaster. And Jaden . . .