Red Rope of Fate (20 page)

Tari reached up and unclasped the latch of her cloak, which slid off her like water. She was wearing what looked like her Evening Star practice uniform. It was completely white—except for the black gloves and boots—and
was made of the same slinky material.

What mostly consumed
Arion, though, was the way Tari moved. It was different. She didn’t glide or prance as she usually did, she
stalked
. Her sauntering gait reminded Arion of a snow cat—one of the most vicious predators on the Continent.

Talon and his seconds were clearly afraid of her, even though they stood together, weapo
ns extended, outnumbering her 11 to 1.

Tari cracked her hands as she walked before snapping her arms out. Layers of light formed
along her arms, creating a curved blade of sheer light that followed the lines of her muscles.

The Evening Star abruptly spun, sweeping one leg out and kneeling down as she turned before popping u
p. The glowing blades hummed and emitted waves of light that crackled in the air like lightning.

Tari’s
Evening Star magic was nothing like the elvish enchanters. Arion thought it would be soft and glowing. Instead it was as sleek, deadly, and as solid as a sword blade.

The hair on the back of Arion’s neck stood on end as Tari closed in on Talon. She was going to
slaughter
them.

Talon yelled and lashed out at Tari. Tari held up her left arm, and the sword shattered against her blade of light. In the same smooth movement she slammed her right arm into Talon’s stomach.

The blade of light on that arm crackled, and Talon was sent hurtling through the air. He slammed into a stone pillar with a crunch. He hit the ground with a scream of pain, and his seconds panicked.

Two tried to jump Tari. She pushed her arms out, smashing them with her light blades, and they too were sent flying.

Some of the seconds dropped their weapons and started running. Others shouted as Tari preyed upon them. Whenever she extended an arm a second would go flying. She caught every one of them, throwing them into the nearest wall, pillar, or the ground.

Tari turned in a circle, looking at the havoc, but she wasn’t done yet. Circles of light pooled around her on the ground before stretching out. They looked like ornamental etchings in the ground, except they were made of pure light and constantly moved with Tari at the center of the
ir orbit.

The circles of light extended until they touched the ground beneath Talon and all ten of his seconds. Tari slammed her right foot into the ground, and the circles exploded in flares of light. Talon and his seconds screamed, and the building shook under the crackling pressure of elvish magic.

A pillar collapsed as the light faded, and Tari slammed her foot down again. The light exploded farther, lapping up the crumbled walls like waves in an ocean.

Tari saun
tered through the blinding and light, stepping over a screaming second like he was rubble.

The light faded as Tari stood
in front of Talon, who was crumpled against the ground. She swooped down—her hands glowing white, and latched onto Talon’s throat, lifting him up by his neck.

Although he was taller than her and stood—drooping—on his feet, Talon c
hoked and gasped for air. Tari held his neck like an iron clamp. Her magic occasionally crackled and fizzed like a firecracker.

Talon raised his hand, which was faintly glowing, and grappled for Tari’s face. Tari mercilessly caught his arm with her free hand. Her white magic hissed as it traveled from Tari to Talon, shocking
him until the air smelled of singed hair and flesh.

The difference between the two made a
stark contrast.

Talon was a Lesser Elf. His magic was soft and glowing—it had no bite. Looking at Tari, Arion had a new understanding for the legends of the High Elves. Her magic was tempered for war and killing.

Previously Arion had always thought of her as being soft. Soft butter blonde hair, soft eyes, soft smiles. The Tarinthali Ringali before him had the softness of a man eating snow cat—claws and fangs cloaked in soft fur. Her eyes were hard and unblinking, even as she held her cousin by the throat and he screamed.

Talon
howled. Tari stared at him as she adjusted her grip, turning up the power of her magic.

She was playing with him, stretching him to his breaking point.

Arion started walking towards Tari.

Seer Ringali thrust his parasol in front of Arion, and for the first time since meeting his bond partner’s teacher, Arion realized that Seer Ringali’s
ridiculous accessories were weapons in disguise.

The point of the parasol was a muted copper color, which made people naturally turn their eyes from the dangerous knife tip. The edges were the same copper color—which matched the bird pattern on the wax paper—but they were razor sharp.
The edges were metal fashioned so thinly it could make a cut cleaner than a dagger.

Seer Ringali was also a wolf in a sheep’s fleece.

“Not necessary,” Seer Ringali signed.

“She’ll kill him,” Arion said, pointing to Talon.

Tari had thrown her cousin into a wall and pinned him there with daggers of crackling light magic.

Seer Ringali spoke, but Arion did not understand it.

“It’s her right,” the translator said, almost forgotten in the horrible spectacle. “As the challenger she can administer any punishment she likes in this duel. Talon knew of the rules before he attacked her, just as he knew of her power.”

“I don’t care if it’s her right,” Arion said, pushing the parasol away. “If she kills him she’ll lose a part of herself.
That slime is not worth Tari’s pain,” Arion said before he started running, leaving the translator to speak to Tari’s ornamental seconds.

As Arion ran Tari removed her attention from Talon. She cocked her head as she watched Talon’s seconds flee. She narrowed her eyes and raised her right arm, sweeping it across her body in a snapping motion.

The light blade on her right arm boomed like a firework and a thin wave of light burst from the blade, growing bigger and brighter as it zoomed away from Tari. When the curved light hit the seconds it burned like elvish sparklers, hissing sparks and smoke. The elves were thrown to the ground like rag-dolls.

Satisfied, Tari turned back to Talon, planting one of her light blades at his neck. Tears leaked from Talon’s eyes, a sob caught in his throat.

“Tari,” Arion said, slowing down as he drew close to her. “Tari,” he repeated.

Tari turned to face him, and Arion felt his heart stop as he came face to face
with what remained of the High Elves on the Continent. Tari had no lightness to her. There was no indication on her marble masked face of her normal humor and quick grin. The elf that stared at Arion was one hardened by blades and blood.

This is still Tari
.

Arion ground his teeth before he forced himself to take a step forward
. “Tari, enough. You have proven your point.”

Tari
glanced over her shoulder to study Talon. Talon violently trembled, snot and tears dripped from his face.

“I don’t think I have,” Tari said, twisting her body in a predator-way that seemed
so wrong as she turned to Talon.

“Tari,” Arion said.

Tari ignored him and flexed her arms, making her light blades crackle in hunger.

Arion reached out and grabbed Tari by the shoulder yanking her backwards.

“What—,” Tari hissed.

Before she could finish her sentence Arion pulled Tari until her back was flush against chest. He clamped both of his hands over her eyes and leaned forward so he spoke directly into Tari’s tapered, twitching ear. He was so close his lips almost brushed her ear.

“It’s enough, Tari. I am sorry that I made you carry this burden. I did not know. Words cannot describe my regret, but Tari I am here now and I want to understand,” he said.

Tari’s seconds strained forward in interest as they watched the spectacle. They could n
ot hear Arion’s words, but the affect of them were evident on Tari.

Her shoulders shook and she bit her lip. She nodded, and Arion continued to whisper to her.
“I am sorry for the things I said, for the things I did not ask. I didn’t want to pry into your life, so I avoided asking you about being an Evening Star. It was my mistake. But you do not want to kill Talon. I know your heart and I know you still love your cousin, even now. That’s why this is enough. Do not force yourself to do anymore.”

When he leaned away, still sheltering her eyes,
Tari shivered as badly as Talon. She twisted in Arion’s arms, hiding her face in his shoulder as her glowing weapons disintegrated.

Arion carefully picked her up, hooking his arms beh
ind her knees and just below her arms.  He carried Tari back to her seconds. The daggers of light that held Talon in place evaporated when Arion reached King Celrin.

Talon fell to the ground with a painful splat, still shaking and crying.

Arion inclined his head to King Celrin. “She is the victor. Is there anything that needs to be said?” he asked, still carrying Tari.

Everyone was quiet for a moment before the translator remembered himself and rushed to translate Arion’s words.

“No,” King Celrin said.

When the translator informed Arion of this, the captain bowed.

“Arion,” Tari said, her voice muffled but urgent.

Arion
started walking, covering distance as fast as he could, ignoring the odd looks Tari’s seconds were giving them.

He hopped over the remains of a crumbling wall (Tari’s magic had not done the building any favors) and hurried through the gardens.

He got Tari to a pond before the elf dry heaved, gasping and choking as her stomach churned.

When Tari’s vomiting subsided, Arion pressed a damp handkerchief to her forehead.

“Thank you,” Tari said, sagging into Arion in relief.

Arion curled an arm around her. “Welcome.”

Arion offered her his strength through his silence as she leaned against him, moving only to dampen the cloth in the pond when necessary.

Talon and his seconds were removed from the building and attended to by the time Tari stirred.

“Thank you,” Tari repeated, offering him the cloth.

Arion nodded.

“You have questions?” Tari guessed, inhaling shakily before smiling.

Arion nodded again.

“Ask away.”

“Evening
Stars are not dancers.”

“We are, and we are not. We perform as dancers during festivals and for shows—for no other elves can display the physical prowess we have—but that is something we do to lighten our hearts.”

“What is an Evening Star?”

Tari leaned back on her hands. “I wondered if you would ever ask me this question. Seer Ringali and I talked for hours about how I might best explain it. Simply put, Evening Stars are the only
armed forces Lessa possesses, but we are meant for only one kind of enemy.”

“Who?”

“High Elves,” Tari said. Her gaze was cold as she stared across the pond.

“What?”

“Your people may believe High Elves are forever gone from the Continent, but we Lesser Elves know better. Before they left the High Elves promised to return, and High Elves always see their oaths through.”

“I don’t understand, why would you need to kill High Elves?” Arion said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“For your sake.”

Arion removed his hand and stared at Tari.

“For the sake of the men of Calnor,” Tari amended. “Since the beginning the High Elves have been hardened towards mankind,” Tari said before she twisted to gesture at the palace behind them. “High Elves are a proud race; the idea of Nodusigm would disgust them. Even if it is Calnor that is doing
us
a great honor by protecting Lessa from outsiders… if the High Elves return they would see it as men setting themselves above us. And they would wipe you out.”

“And you would fight back? You’ve told me before, there
are roughly a hundred Evening Stars in your country, that is barely a squad much less an army,” Arion said, shifting to a crouch.

Tari shook her head. “You think too honorably. The point of the Evening Stars is not that we are combat troops, but assassins.”

Arion blinked and shook his head.

“We would strike the High Elves before they saw you. If we killed the leaders and massacred the troops, the High Elves would listen to us. They would be angry with us, yes, but it would make them realize they are entering
our
Continent now, and that things are not what they used to be.”

“That’s why Evening Stars are found in port cities, isn’t it? So you can react quickly.
”

Tari nodded.

“How. How can you fight? Everyone knows Lesser Elves cannot stomach weapons, much less battles.”