“You look so normal again,” Maggie said.
“I am a normal Elf.” I took out a perfectly respectable knife from my wide belt and cut off a leg like any human would have. The back of my hand wiped the blood off my mouth, the rest of my face. At least it hid the blush blooming on my cheeks.
“And a Nightmare.” She didn’t sound afraid, merely curious. Searching her lake-blue eyes, I didn’t see the judgement that came every time a fellow Elf saw my full Nightmare.
“That is the definition of a shifter.” The words were dry as sand. “You didn’t think they kidnapped me to join a shifter army because I turned into a fluffy bunny, did you?”
It was easier to put her on the defensive than to hear what she said next.
“They let you keep the throne as a shifter?” A wrinkle formed between her perfect brows.
“I took the throne,” I bit out, clicking my teeth.
My face must have looked so forbidding even Maggie shut her mouth at that.
“You suck at saying thank you,” I said.
“It's one of my better traits.” She smirked.
She helped me break down some of the elk, not afraid to get bloody by the way she plunged her hands into the carcass. She separated her own leg, and we attempted to start back to the salamander.
It didn’t look good. I balanced the leg across my shoulders, and the weight didn’t slow me much. Maggie had to drag hers behind her. I might have carried them both, but I relished watching her muscles flex. It was too awkward for her to run her mouth like she usually did, all her concentration focused on moving forward. Reaching out to the wood, I asked to be allowed back to my mount. A flow of laughter rippled over the thicket in reply. I looked behind me to see how she was holding up, and when I turned back, the salamander had disappeared. Perfect.
Maggie dropped the elk leg. “I can’t haul this thing anymore. Are we lost? Did you intentionally get us lost?”
“No! I should be halfway to Portsgrave Harbor by now,” I said, annoyed as she was.
The branches dipped down in the wind to tangle in my hair.
“It seems to like you. Get it to let us go,” Maggie said.
It liked me a little too much. I didn’t want toscare my Pumpkin, but we might never leave here. At least the thicket provided food. Maybe it wanted something else as well.
Maggie sat hard upon the path. “What is the thing you're looking for in that fishing town again?”
I would not sit in the dirt, but I did put dinner down. “The Calix is a remnant of pure Godd magic left to the Elves for safekeeping. In return for guarding it, it granted us fertility and abundance for our people.” I stuck with the legend. She didn’t need to know the kingmaker part. “It went missing some millennia ago.”
She looked up at me, and I might have forgotten to tell her I had a delightful view down her shirt. It was a welcome distraction from the mistake my Nightmare almost made. Lust I could handle. A mate bond I could not.
“Well, good job keeping ahold of it. You at least know what it looks like?”
I folded my arms across my chest. “We have a lot of remnants to keep track of when we’re an ancient race. Of course I haven’t seen it. I’m not that old. Ward told me what it looked like, and I drew a picture for him to pass around.”
I took it out of my vest pocket and handed it to her. Maggie unfolded it. Her face grew beet red.
“You drew this?” she asked.
“That’s what I told you.” I went to look over her shoulder and turned the page right side up.
She pointed to the vines flowing over the page. “What is this?”
“The Calix adorns itself in roses and thorny vines at the guard. They are said to be sentient to a degree.”
Maggie looked up at me. “So it’s a broom?”
“A sword.” What was she trying to say?
“Why is it bent here? Is it a broken blade?”
