Search for the Extinct [Last of Elves book 2]

Forty-Two: Ailill

Ailill

This time, as they returned through the Forbidden Mountains, they saw much more of the native animals. He enjoyed both Kuraĝon’s and Aura’s reactions. When a groal ambled around a huge boulder, both stopped dead. Aura’s eyes were huge, as were Kuraĝon’s, and they watched in silence. The big horns curled around the creature’s slim, almost delicate head, and the powerful hindquarters were thick with a winter coat, ready for the coming snows. It was a big male, his fur thick and grey, hanging low over his strong body. For a long moment, he stood at the side of the path, watching them out of intelligent golden eyes. Long fangs curved over his lower jaw, a testament to the harsh life he had lived in the mountains.

When he finally began to move again, he showed his goat-like hooves, well suited to the rocky terrain. Kú watched him intently, as if she recognised what he was.

“What was that, Ali?”

He grinned, turning in his saddle to look back at them. “He was a groal, Kura,” he answered. “Good meat for eating, but they’re rarer on the other side of the mountains now. When the elves lived over this side, they were kept for their hide, meat and milk.”

“Does anything eat them now?”

“Beastkins,” he replied, almost airily, nudging his horse forward. “The large nightbirds will take the baby ones if they can. They don’t have many predators, really.” He led them through the pass, more content to let them linger. He was no longer being called, and there was no pressure on him any more. He found that he was explaining the wildlife to his companions. Kuraĝon was too young to have known about them other than the stories told over the kitchen table, and Aura deserved to know.

“Why did the city become forgotten, Ali?”

He hesitated before answering. It was a long tale, very sad, and he wasn’t sure if now was the best time to explain it. He wasn’t really in the mood. She noticed his hesitation, and urged her horse up beside him.

“Please, Ali?”

He sighed, and glanced back at the girl. She was looking at them, frustration clear on her face from her inability to speak out. He sighed again.

“Come up here, Stjärna,” he said. “I will only tell the tale once, and you must not interrupt. Understand?”

Aura nodded solemnly, now riding beside him, and Kuraĝon heaved out a sigh.

“Fine.”

“You want to hear it, Kura,” he reminded her. “You stay quiet.”

She glowered at him, but nodded. He glanced over at the girl again in time to see her hands moving.

How long is it?

He glanced up at the sun, a few hours away from touching the horizon. “Til dark,” he responded. He fell silent after that, dredging up all he remembered of the tale. It wasn’t one that he particularly liked, or had ever liked, but it was vital to their heritage.