“But you’ve already told me. You might as well finish the job.”
She tilted her head back, so that her braid hung straight like a noose. “This isn’t a scouting mission.”
Was she looking for a reaction? “Oh!” I provided.
“We’re traveling to a battleground, where our men will fight the sorcerer’s foul constructs, and you—” Her voice cut off in a choking gasp. A fleck of her spit landed on my knee.
“. . . will die?” I completed, wiping it off with a thumb. “Wonderful. Good to know. Obviously, I won’t go, then.”
She burst to her feet, and I flinched back, startled. “You don’t understand! If you don’t die, then none of the rest will come to pass!”
“Oh?” My heartbeat picked up. “And what’s the rest?”
Glenda began to pace tight circles around our clearing. “The Elders,” she said, deftly avoiding a root, “burned the last dragon heart to fuel a powerful magic. In the prophetic vision that resulted, they saw the mad sorcerer defeated, and the world saved.”
“Hey, that’s fantastic!” I said, and succeeded in swallowing ‘Now what the fuck does that have to do with me?’
She nodded, confirming that yes, it was fantastic. I wondered if I should stand too, or if she might perceive that negatively. For a human woman, a man towering over you during a tense discussion might prove intimidating—but for an elf, with their superior strength and magic? I wasn’t sure, so I stayed seated, twisting my torso to follow her movements.
“And they saw the death of a tall, golden-haired knight.” She stopped with a pursed, lemon-sucking mouth. “They saw you.”
“Ah,” I managed. “But how certain can they be? It can’t be completely conclusive, can it? Is it?”
She nodded gravely. “It is. You die in this prophecy with a sword through your throat.”
“No,” I said. It came out like a belch, unbidden. At the look on Glenda’s face, I quickly amended to: “No . . . way! How incredible that . . . what I mean is that . . . that’s such a fantastic amount of detail!”
“Oh yes, the prophetic vision was clear in every particular. The method of your death, the meadow it happens in, evendown to the length of your eyelashes. You do have such long eyelashes for a boy.”
No longer able to manage words, I simply nodded with enthusiasm.
The twitchiness of her excitement brought bile to my throat. On some level, the drama clearly appealed to her. “At the meeting with the Elders, they shared the prophecy with me at great magical expense. That’s how I know all this . . .” She spoke in slow, deliberate fragments, drawing it out. “I was even able to assist them in identifying you as the golden knight. Sorry, did you say something?”
I’d let out a small noise. “Nothing. Please . . . please continue.”
She did, frowning. “A prophecy is like a recipe. In order to get the end result, you must follow each step.”
“And I’m one of those steps. What an honour, that it all hinges on my . . . on me.” I cleared my throat, but the lump remained. “And what an honour for you, too. Considering the role you played.”
“I’m so happy you see it that way! Because it is. It is such an honour.” Glenda wiped delicately at one eye. “Once the war is over, I was thinking I could dedicate myself to the arts. And like, sculpt a commemorative statue of you, for people to leave flowers at! That’s why I keep looking at you. It’s to memorize your expressions. How your lips move, how your forehead creases . . .”
“Wow!” I said. “How fantastic that my forehead creases will be preserved.”
She giggled, leaning back against a particularly gnarled and menacing tree. “It’s such a relief to have told you. We should pack up now, if you’re ready?”
How could I ever be ready? Even so, I rose on wobbly legs and obediently kicked dirt over the fire, choking its embers. Scraping out a piece of seaweed from the pot, I carried it to be packed.
“I mean,” I said, finagling the damp metal into my leather bag. “I guess there’s no possibility that I survive this? I’m just concerned, you know, that the sorcerer’s reign of terror might continue unabated.”
“Please don’t worry about that!” Glenda looked up from compacting her bedroll, her mouth open in alarm. “We’ll ensure it comes to pass. If the enemy fails to strike you down, I—that is,someoneis assigned to the task. So don’t worry about rushing into battle or standing in a certain position.” She rolled her eyes to show the silliness of the idea. “Just show up and leave the rest to us!”
The muscles in her slender arms flexed as she tightened the drawstrings. I bundled up my own bedding, securing it into the belts of my pack, waiting until I felt certain that my voice would hold. “I supposeyoucould even be the person who . . . I mean, I won’t be mad or anything, but maybe you, uh. Have further instructions?”
Despite my stumbling, I saw understanding on her face. “It might be better if it’s someone you know. A-and—” she stuttered, and the tears that had threatened all morning spilled down her cheeks. “It should be someone who loves you!”
“Thank you, Glenda. I appreciate you telling me. Now I won’t be scared at all when you stick a sword through my throat.”
She frowned, as if finally detecting my lack of sincerity.
