Search for the Extinct [Last of Elves book 2]

Thirty-Eight: Kuraĝon

Kuraĝon

"Don't stop." He was short and sharp with the words, and Kuraĝon knew it was to shock the child into scurrying after him.

It worked.

Her footsteps quickened, almost stumbling, but he said nothing more. As long as she kept up with Ailill, he wasn't going to say anything. Kuraĝon understood that, and made sure that both kept up with him from then onwards. He still led the way unerringly, and she could see his sensitive fingers tracing the carvings absently as he walked. Figures of beastkins and elves sprang to life in the stonework.

Finally, though, the carvings started to vanish from the wall, becoming less and less, until there was only on figure that could be seen and felt, the sharp-cut outline easy to trace.

"What does it show, Ali?"

She made her voice a whisper, and he answered it in the same volume.

"It tells what lies beyond here."

As Kuraĝon stared at him in amazement, the girl tugged on his sleeve, making him look down to meet the dark brown eyes. Pale sunlight had managed to make its way to them, lighting up the tunnel enough to see.

"Yes, my dear?"

Her hands flew, her eyes wide with wonder. What are the pictures of? What do they show? Who made them? They look really old.

He smiled, the movement brightening his face. Ruffling her hair gently and affectionately, he answered her rushed questions, pausing in his steps.

"The First Pair caused them to be made," he explained. "They show the history of the elves so that it wouldn't ever be forgotten. This one ..." He paused, and Kuraĝon guessed that he was thinking of how best to explain it to her without revealing their most important secret. "This one guards what lies beyond," he finally said, slowly. Both Aura and Kuraĝon gave him funny looks, but he didn't explain it any more than that.

Ailill led them on in silence until the tunnel appeared to end. There were no more corners, no continuation. Just a dead end.

It made Kuraĝon nervous.

"Ali, I don't like this." She shifted from foot to foot, one hand buried in Vakt's thick fur. The beastkin was pressed against her in return, similarly nervous. "Why is it a dead end? I don't understand."

He tugged at her hair gently. "Go back to the last carving," he said quietly, not answering her questions. "Wait for me there."

She shook her head, the silver threads glinting in the shafts of light. "I'm not leaving you again, Ali."
In this, he was firm. "You must. I can't go on unless you stay at the carving. Please, Kura."

Again, she shook her head. "No. I can't, Ali," she pleaded with him. "Don't make me go."

"You have to." Carefully, he lifted the nightbird off his shoulder, where she had been silent the whole trip. "Take Kú, Stjärna. Hunaja will watch over you."

Disappointment was clear in the brown eyes, but he was just as firm with her, pushing her away slightly.

"Go," he said again. "You'll be safe, I promise."

Finally, she took Kú, and stepped away, the younger beastkin close to her side.

"Please, Ali," Kuraĝon begged. "Don't make me go. I can't bear it."

"You have to, little sister. Little Kura."

She shook her head once more, helpless. "Ali, don't."

"Go on, little sister. I'll be safe. I promise I'll come back to you."

She refused to look away from him, and he met her gaze steadily, waiting. For a moment, she saw who he had once been, before the call had become too strong. Then, it was gone.

"You're safe here," he said softly. "Nothing will come for you. Vakt will keep you safe, and I won't be long. Please, Kura. I have to do this alone."

Her shoulders sagged, and she looked down. "Why?" she whispered. "Why do you have to leave me here? Why do you have to do this?"

He stepped closer to her, brushing her hair behind her ears. Aura was out of earshot, and he answered, still keeping his voice low.

"Because it's been a long time, Kura. He knows me - I'll be alright. I don't know what will happen if you come as well. I don't want you hurt."

She gripped his hand tight enough to hurt him, but he didn't move away. "What if you don't come back?"

He searched her eyes for a long moment. "I will."

"What if you don't, Ali?" she repeated. "What then? What do I do?"

"Take the child back to the city, and then disappear. Make sure you stay safe. You have to stay safe."

She forced her tears away. "I can't leave you." It felt like she wouldn't be seeing him again, and she didn't know why. She just didn't want him to go. "Come home with me, Ali. You don't have to do this."

He slid his hand free, taking a step back as she stared at him in shock.

"Ali!"

"Go back to the carving, Kura."

Even as she shook her head, even as a tear dropped down her cheek, she knew that he meant it. Nothing she said would stop him now.

When he next spoke, his voice was very quiet. "Here, Kura. A promise."

Her amulet, the one she had given him all those years ago when he'd been forced away from her, dropped into her hand, and she closed her fingers around it in shock.

She couldn't move.

"A promise," he repeated just as quietly. "I'll come back to you." With that, he shifted his gaze to the beastkin at her side. "Keep them safe, Vakt. Go on."

Vakt blinked, and then began to nudge at her leg, urging her back along the tunnel. She resisted for a minute, holding the amulet out to her brother.

"Take it back," she begged. "Never take it off again."

He only shook his head and turned away from her as Vakt's nudges became too strong for her to resist any longer. She stumbled, keeping a tight hold on the carved elf-stone, and made the slow walk back to the last carving, Aura close behind her.

Something touched her arm, and she spun, turning an accusing glare on the young girl, who shrank away.

"What?" She nearly snarled at the child, and immediately felt terrible for it. But it was too late to take it back now.

Kura, he's gone.

Panic shot through her, and she spun to look at where she'd left her brother, stumbling forward.

She didn't get very far.

Both Hunaja and Vakt stayed in front of her, preventing her from moving past the carving.

And the girl was right. Her brother was gone.

"Ailill!"

Her anguished cry echoed through the tunnels, but it wasn't answered. She stared at the end of the tunnel, disbelieving, but it was true.

Once again, she was alone.