The Elf Thief

Chapter 20: Conspiracies, Escape and a Few Hitchhikers

“Wh-what?” Sonya spluttered in surprise.

Zabin grabbed her hands, “Sonya, not everyone is happy that your friend, Dearo-“

“Dearekk,” Sonya instantly corrected, not quite snapping out of her daze.

“Forgive me, Dearekk, has Ventar,” Zabin looked her over. “Don’t let their charming smiles fool you, Sonya. They are vipers, every one of them, most courtiers are. But these are ignored.” Zabin shook his head, “And that makes them ten times more dangerous.”

Suddenly realizing that her hands were still grasped tightly in his, Sonya jerked away. “How do you know so much about politics?” she asked nervously, rubbing her arms.

Zabin’s easy-going smile was back in a second. “My father is the Emperor’s head advisor. So naturally, I always receive the latest news.”

Sonya raised an eyebrow skeptically. “And why would your parents confide in a, what, eighteen-year-old boy?” she teased.

“Seventeen,” confessed Zabin guiltily, “And it normally involves quite a bit of eavesdropping.”

Chuckling, Sonya turned, only to run into a fay with slate-colored hair and a band of cloth around his eyes.

“Oh,” drawled the Seer in a lazy voice, “I see you’ve met Zabin.”

Sonya couldn’t help but shoot a confused look at Zabin, how had he known? Zabin just shrugged in return. “Yes,” Sonya began slowly, “I have. He sure is an interesting boy.” She couldn’t help but shoot a smile at Zabin.

            “He sure is…energetic, if that is what you mean,” the Seer said almost sarcastically. “I’m guessing he hauled you to that oh-so-wonderful dance floor?”

Sonya’s snort of laughter must have been a satisfactory answer.

Letting out an overdramatic sigh, the Seer continued, “Well, I will leave you two to your fun  if that’s what you call it. Enjoy your time here, elf-child.”  He turned to his fellow fay, “See you later, Zabin.”

“See ya!” Zabin replied with a flick of his wrist as a wave. Turning to Sonya, he saw the look that she was giving him. “What?” he shrugged, “There are not a whole lot of kids in Summerwell Court.”

Sonya threw up her hands. “I’m not judging! Who’s judging?” she said in mock innocence.

“Good,” teased Zabin as he once again as he towed her towards the dance floor. “Because if you were, I just may have stepped on your toes!”

            Later that night, Sonya was lying in bed. Moonlight danced off the walls of her room as she tried to fall asleep, half wanting to say awake. Whenever she closed her eyes, images from the Asylum and her dreams came back, images of pain, death and chains flashed before her eyes. Her dreams had gotten better, but when she would wake up in the middle of the night screaming, Dearekk would be by her side, scaring away the voices with that mysterious sword of his. But though the nightmares were getting better, one thing still remained: she feared sleep.

            What was wrong with her? Darkness was the Elf Thieves’ best friend, every corner a refuge. But here, the shadows hosted only fear for her. The very presence of darkness was enough to unsettle her in this strange city, where nothing was as it seemed. To Sonya, fear was weakness, so she did everything she could to push it away. Yet in the end, it only seemed to make it worse.

            As she thought, something glinted out of the corner of her eye and on instinct she reached for the moonhawk knives on her nightstand. It was her caution that saved her. Before she had even gotten a good grip on her knives, something moved.