Lifeblood

Chapter 23

A cloth covered Aida's face. Her legs had gone numb from limping for hours, blind, and she wasn't sure she could stand if she wanted to. Aida pulled at the ties on her wrists, finding no give.

A breeze drifted around her. She shivered, dampness clinging to her like a second skin.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Her head snapped up. The sound was muffled, like slippers echoing down a hall. Then it paused.

The cloth was ripped from her head. Light invaded her eyes, and Aida squinted as her surroundings came into focus.

A pattern of trees with intertwining limbs encircled the room, and instead of a ceiling, spiraling branches blocked her view of the sky.

They must be massive.

Aida blew a lock of hair from her face. Her reflection stared up at her from the floor, a mosaic of shapes breaking up her form.

And in front of her reflection was the yellow-eyed elf, holding a knife.

Aida flinched, but they seemed to not notice, bending down to cut the binding on her wrists.

They put the knife away and rested their elbows on their knees, giving her a thoughtful look. "Isairaldan wanted to kill you," they said, unconcerned.

Aida stared at them.

"You do not have to worry," they continued. "The Raeri will understand you are a child."

Aida opened her mouth to protest, then thought better of it. Not a child, she grumbled internally, though curious as to why her age mattered.

"You may call me Dri." They rose to their feet and offered her a hand. She reached out, hesitating as her wrist tingled, recalling their first encounter. Her fingers brushed against theirs.

She clasped their hand, and sparks ignited in her palm.

A breath escaped her. She glanced at her hand in awe, an invisible trace outlining where their fingers had been a second ago. In a strange place with an even stranger person, the familiar sensation was an odd sort of comfort. Her lips twitched upwards.

"Are you hungry?"

Aida dropped her hand. The elf—Dri—wandered to a table, the only furniture in the otherwise empty room.

Platters displayed fruits and vegetables, some she recognized, most she didn't. All fresh. Wine bottles fit in the cracks between dishes, and her stomach grumbled, reminding her it had been a day since she last ate.

Dri picked up a fruit and bit into it. "Go ahead." They waved at the food.

Aida hovered over the table, questions burning holes in her skull. Why wasn't she dead? And if they didn't want to kill her, why go through the trouble of dragging her to whatever this place was? Most importantly, where—

Her stomach growled, this time louder. Aida mentally placed her questions on a shelf for later, and seeing no point in refusing, snagged a fruit that most resembled an apple. She bit into it, pausing mid-chew. The juice rolled over her tongue and down her throat like a spoonful of sugar dissolving. She made eye contact with the elf, searching their face.

They raised an eyebrow.

Aida lowered her gaze and munched in silence, not daring to check if they watched. The fruit was dense, more like a pear than an apple, and the flesh was tinged pink. She picked at a bit of peel caught between her teeth.

"Why am I here?" Her voice cracked, and she cleared her throat.

Dri poured wine into a glass, and pushed it toward her.