Archer of the Lake (Silver Crown Chronicles #1)

2. Eye of Ewyn

Feraan awoke when it was dark, and it felt as though a bolt of lightning coursed through him.  He sat up panting and struggled to name where he was.  The bathing fountain and the floral scents around him were unfamiliar.  Feraan was sure that he had been in the middle of the hunting party, but the garden around him suggested he was back in Sal’Sumarathar.  Nothing suggested how.

He remembered a girl.  A name came to him.  Gyssedlues.  And then—

And then he fell.  That was all he had left of the memory.

Feraan looked at the garden around him and the name popped into his head again.  Gyssedlues.  Eviat and Sylaera Gyssedlues.  But that wasn’t who he saw in the forest.  He had seen their daughter Caelfel.  Perhaps it was she who brought him here.  He was at the Gyssedlues home.  The familiar cloak and glass bottle at his feet were telling enough.  He had given her the bottle of medicine when she was wearing the cloak.

But there was something else in the pile, and further inspection revealed that it was a Royal Decree.  Specifically, it was a Royal Decree forbidding anyone to save his life.  But it would seem that Caelfel had.

She had also set aside his things—his bow and quiver and a pack—neatly next to the curtain which sealed off the rest of the garden.  He quietly gathered these things when he noticed an amulet around his neck.  He thought about removing it but decided against it, figuring it had been given to him for a reason.  He pushed the amulet from his mind and prepared to leave the Gyssedlues garden for his own home, but then a notion struck him.

Leaving without notice would be rude, and Feraan considered that for a few moments.  He shrugged the idea away.  He had not bothered himself with manners in nearly a century and he wasn’t going to begin now.  It was late, an attempt had been made on his life, and he wanted to return to his home.  Feraan did not have the patience to ponder on the implications of someone saving his life.

He saw lights inside the house but did not feel up to the task of conversation.  He left, then, deciding the Gyssedlues girl could keep his glass bottle.

***

Caelfel had remained by Feraan’s side for the majority of the day.  She left only when Mother called for dinner for the fourth time, and only then because Father had stuck his head outside to rush her along.  She had eaten her dinner so quickly it had made her stomach turn.  Her parents noticed her impatience but they did not ask about it.  When she had finished, they let her leave without question.

But by the time she had rushed out to the garden again, Feraan had disappeared.  This should have been good news because it probably meant he had awoken and felt well enough to leave.  But Caelfel was disappointed; she had wanted to talk to him.

“Caelfel?”  Her father was a tall, greyling elf with a voice like smoke and ash.  Eviat Gyssedlues was an old elf to be sure, much too old to marry her beautiful mother and much too old to have such a young daughter.  His age had not stopped him from accomplishing either feat, and Caelfel always felt he had a special store of love, which was reserved solely for doting on his daughter. “He’s gone,” Caelfel muttered to herself as Eviat stepped up beside her.

“Who is?” he asked.

Caelfel took a single sideways glance at her father and, remembering her actions had been a serious crime, decided not to implicate her parents on the matter if she were discovered.  “Nothing,” was her answer.

“Are you nervous about tomorrow?” Eviat asked.

Once more, it took a moment’s hesitation for her to remember the significance of tomorrow.