Page 55 of A Tale of Mirth & Magic

Barra apparently was thinking the same. “We should probably head out soon if we want to make it to Old Orchard by nightfall.”

“Guess it wouldn’t be smart to camp here, what with all these rogue bounty hunters running around after me,” I joked.

He grimaced and sat up, seeming to realize just how exposed we were. I groaned in protest. Barra jumped to his feet with an energy I definitely didn’t have, then reached for my hands. I let him pull me up.

“Just a bit farther, and then we’ll find a nice inn where you can rest,” he said as he swept around, gathering our belongings and packing them away in Pebble’s saddlebags. I patted her nose fondly, happy to see her again. She searched for the apples I’ve been sneaking to her over our journey, snuffling at my hands and skirt pockets, and then nudging my right boob.

“No snacks for you right now, I’m afraid. But you’re right—I should probably get dressed.”

I found the rest of my clothes where I’d strewn them over a rock before my dip in the lake. After shimmying into my shirt and corset and adjusting everything into a comfortable position, I started to tighten the strings a little. Barra came over and placed his hands over mine.

“May I?”

I nodded. His large fingers deftly moved along the laces, tightening them perfectly so that the corset supported me but didn’t squeeze. He tied the ends with a bow. Brushing the knuckles of one hand softly across the top of my breasts, he dipped down to kiss the crook of my neck.

“Beautiful,” Barra murmured against my skin, sending tingles through my chest. I smiled against his hair.

He gave me a boost up onto Pebble’s massive back, and with one last look back at the shimmering lake, I nudged her on the path forward.

18

BARRA

We made good time on the main road. As the light faded around us, treetops darkening overhead, I recounted my run-in with Stan and Ronald to Elikki. She gasped and giggled through the story, and I found myself laughing along.

This light bubble of happiness that had filled my chest since we opened up to each other beside the lake was still there, making me almost giddy.

When I got to the part about being stabbed in the arm, she insisted on seeing the wound herself and dressing it “properly” from her perch atop Pebble. Before I knew it, she’d grabbed some clean cloth from her pack and she was pulling my shirt away from the sticky wound, heart-shaped face tight with concentration.

I protested a little at first, tried to brush her off. But truthfully, it felt wonderful, if a bit strange, to have someone tend to me like this. I was so used to being the sole caretaker in my relationships. The way Elikki insisted that I let her care for me in return—it did something to me.

When she finished her work, tying it off with a neat knot, she made me promise to clean the wound fully and bandage it again once we found a room in town. I smiled at her use of the singular “room.” She smirked back, expanding the bubble in my chest even larger.

Still, part of me kept expecting someone to leap out and attack her again. Both of us stayed alert for more bounty hunters—peering around into the forest’s shadows and halting randomly to listen for footfalls—but all was normal.

As we walked, my thoughts kept coming back to what Elikki had shared by the lake. It was hard to make sense of the type of neglect and emotional abandonment she’d described in her past. She’d been ignored by the very people who were meant to love her the most—it made me sick to my stomach. I began to see that Elikki had been hurt more deeply, more viscerally, than I had ever experienced. She’d grown up feeling unwanted by her own parents, her communities. Unloved.

I didn’t realize until this moment how much more scarred than me she probably felt, all these years later. She’d just buried the hurt deeper. Covered it with layers of charm, wit, and charisma. Protected herself in the ways she could. Hardened her heart to everyone, so that no one could hurt her like that again.

As these realizations struck me in the chest like blows, I felt a surge of understanding and love for this elf. That she’d been through so much and still started to open up, let me see her—that was nothing short of miraculous. Not only was she strong, charming, and mind-shatteringly gorgeous, but Elikki Sunstorm was the bravest person I’d ever met.

We reached Old Orchard just as the last bit of daylight slipped away. Restaurants and taverns spilled light into the street. Folks called to one another, shouting and laughing merrily, and everyone scrambled out of Pebble’s path as they caught sight of her. The golden magefire lamps, which illuminated larger towns and cities across the Willowisp Woods at night, shone brightly along the sides of every road here, a welcoming entrance. Like all folk, mages had to live where they could find work, and most opportunities were in places like this. Not small villages like Nepu, so we usually just made do with candles at home. But goddess, if this wasn’t a beautiful sight. Cheerful dancing flames shone about us, reaching tendrils up to the darkening sky from their lampposts and tinting El’s auburn hair golden.

So beautiful, I thought, reaching over to twirl a loose strand around my finger, just for the sake of it. She smiled sleepily over at me, and I pressed a kiss to her hand.

We stayed on the main cobblestone road as it curved to the right and up a gentle hill. It was a little quieter up here, fewer folks carousing and more weary workers heading home for warmth, supper, and a good night’s rest. I’d visited this town several times before for work, and I hoped my preferred inn had space for us tonight.

Following the bend of the high street, we finally came to my destination. The Oak & Spoon was a tall, jaunty building set on a street corner, its door the classic turquoise shade Old Orchard inhabitants were so fond of using. Large windows glowed warmly, beckoning us inside. I helped Elikki down before passing Pebble’s reins to the stablehand slouching nearby. Hefting both of our packs, I followed her inside.

The comfortable front room was filled with soft light, every chair and sofa strewn with pillows and colorfully knit blankets. There were no performers here, but the gentle clinking of cups and murmuring of voices provided their own soothing music. Elikki beelined to the squashiest, biggest sofa by the fireplace and plopped down with a sigh. I followed, placing our packs on the floor. With a quick kiss on her hair, I went to the bar to arrange our accommodations.

Luckily, one of their larger rooms was available. The barkeep sent a young lad to bring our packs up as we rested by the fire. Soon two steaming plates arrived on the table, along with a lavender-chamomile tea for me and a spiced wine for Elikki.

I looked around the room, trying my best to be unnoticeable. Difficult, when you tend to attract folks’ attention. After a quick check, it seemed we were in the clear. For now, at least.

“So,” she said in a low voice as we tucked into our meals of roast chicken, potatoes, and garlicky greens, “I’ve been watching everyone in here. No one gives me a whiff of bounty hunter.” She munched on a golden-brown potato, casually scanning the room. I breathed a bit easier. She’d know better than me how to spot one, and I trusted her instincts.

“He’ll probably give up soon. That cheap bounty can’t pull many people who would be willing to do a four-day round trip—especially for such a ‘dangerous criminal,’” Elikki said with a grin, eyes glinting devilishly in the firelight.