Fight for What’s Mine [2]

“She’s been gone too long, Nero.”

Nero glanced at Tristen from his position on his newly made bed. “Can you see anything from the window?”

Tristen shook his head. Slowly, he stood up and slipped a dagger from his pack on the bed to a sheath on his hip. “I’ll go find her. Stay here.”

Nero frowned, noting the dagger, but hoping Tristen wouldn’t have to use it, because if he did, they’d be moving again. All too soon, by Nero’s opinion. “If you don’t find her within a half hour, Iste, I’ll come look for you.”

Tristen just nodded, leaving the room without any more words.

Nero scowled nervously, moving to take Tristen’s place as watch at the window. It seemed that none of them would be getting the rest they were paying for in the hotel.

***

“Hey! Hey!” Cicero jumped up when the man who was with the girl that Traenor had left to look at came down the stairs from the hotel rooms. “Wait up!”

The man gave him a dirty look, but muttered, “What do you want?”

“Have you seen your woman yet?”

“No.” He shook his head, carefully replying to him as if he didn’t trust him. That was okay, Cicero didn’t trust him either.

Cicero nodded, glancing at the door.

“Why?” The man narrowed his light blue eyes dangerously and moved his hand subtly to his hip.

Cicero calmly looked the man down and risked another hopeful look towards the door. “Traenor, the man I’m with, went to ask your woman-”

“For your own good I wouldn’t call her my woman.” The man levelly interrupted.

Cicero didn’t even stop talking, “if she’d ever been to Sjjaien and if so, how long ago… stuff like that. But he hasn’t been back in a long time and I’m wanted to know if you-”

He flinched at the sound of the world that the man in front of him so smoothly spit out, but hoped that it was just a mental weakness, or he heard it wrong, rather than what he was sure the young man had said. He hoped, for the life of his comrade. “Come with me then, boy.”

“I’m no boy.” Cicero’s normally laughing brown eyes narrowed. “I’ll come with you, but it’d be smart of you to call me Cicero and not refer to me as someone under yourself.”

The man just gave him a look out of the corner of his eye. “Aye, that’ll do. My name is Tristen.”

“Then Tristen, let’s find our companions before something bloody happens.”

“Aye, good idea. Let’s start in the stable.”

***

“What is your name, comrade of Sjjaien?”

Arely shot a look at the man perched on the railing holding a horse in its stable, barely withholding her anger and her fright at seeing him. “I never said I even knew of a place called Sjjaien.”

“I know of those from there.” He just gave her a meaningful look.

Arely scowled, crossing her arms over her chest as if she didn’t have a clue what he was talking about. “Like what, oh kind sir who seems so concerned on my well being and this place called Sjjaien?”

He chuckled, darkening Arely’s anger.

“It’s the hair.”

Arely blinked, never having heard of that one before. “Oh is it now?” Laughter entered her voice as she stood up and tried to hold in her smile. “I don’t think anyone has ever been blamed for being a certain person because of her hair before.”

He shook his head, unaffected by her laughter. “When I was in Sjjaien,” Arely flinched mentally, hating the memories that surfaced with just the horrid word, “all of the men and women had thick hair. Thick, dark brown, curly hair, just as you have.”

“It was a family trait.” Arely said lowly, dangerously.

He nodded agreeably. “Aye, comes in generations, I’m told.”

“Aye, though you must have visited Jade before, sir. You’ll find a whole generation of ones with hair such as mine.” She met his eyes very slowly, knowing the challenge held inside them. “They’re a kind sort of family, large and loud.”

“Not my kind. I prefer to know why someone from Sjjaien would lie to say their from some little, nonexistent town of Jade.”

Arely didn’t comment, just shaking her head. She moved towards the door, tired of the questions the man had for her. “I’ve had enough of this. Please excuse me while-”

“Stop.” The man held up his hand and she froze, unable to move.

As only her eyes could shift, she watched him as he got closer to her, walking so that he was face to face with her and she could do nothing to him. “Really, tell me why a girl such as yourself wouldn’t be in her world.”

It wasn’t a question anymore, it was an order.

Before Arely could even think of a retort to shoot at him, a dark haired fighter shot from under her cloak and started to poke his small sword, sharp as it was, in the other man’s face.

A line of blood appeared on the man’s face and he scowled, swiping at the buzzing that was the only thing he could see of the small faerie. “Ah, I see… you have nasty little tricks up your sleeve.”

Despite the fact that he was distracted from the faerie, he could still keep her mind tightly under wraps. She couldn’t move and couldn’t do more than follow him with her eyes.

“I have tricks as well.” A few seconds later, a flash of light came from the hood of the man’s cape and went straight for Arely’s faerie, Rhodes.

“Again, I’ll ask you what your name is.”

Never, Arely growled to herself, wishing her mouth would cooperate and either scowl or tell him exactly what she thought of him.

Tiny tinkles of clashing swords and small yells came from the two fighting faeries and Arely wished she could tell Rhodes to take the damn faerie out, but she couldn’t move.

The man’s lips turned up in a smirk. “Never, is it? Well, mine is Traenor and it has been a pleasure meeting you… Highest One. We’ve been looking for you for a long time.”