Free Once Lost Lords (Royal Scales, Book 1) by Stephan Morse Page B

in his hand
than the room.
    "Stand outside." One hand waved him away while I looked
about the room.
    "That serious? Good, good." Daniel seemed puzzled at first
but made up his own excuse as to why I wanted him out of the area.
Not that it mattered to the tracking, I was just annoyed at being
dragged out here. He stepped outside with the cell phone already to
his ear.
    I grabbed a chair, one that was familiar from the last vision of the
fugitive elf. This room had been tainted by dozens of people
recently. There was no connection, emotional or physical, between
these objects and the elf. Hands fidgeted with the hair and the empty
tube. Thoughts slowly spun together. Linking that which I held to the
other end. My hand, my items, mine. These were mine, all of it was
mine. That which I owned could not hide.
    Consciousness unfurled one inch at a time. The sensation of having
more limbs stayed with me for a moment. My mind’s eye could see
the room around me and felt everything. Cheap wood sealed tight by a
false grain. Lamps were screwed into the wall, dragging down the
plaster. Worn threads on the rug. My eyes shifted around, not really
seeing, only feeling. There was a thread in my hands connecting hair
and tube with something in the distance. Then that mild awareness
stuck as another cadence of thoughts chimed in.
    Other faltering connections. Many. None are mine. None elven.
Hair connects. Tube connects. Different vibrations, same colors. I
pull towards their destination. Pulls sharply west. Feel the sun's
heat layered through everything. Welcoming. Comforting.
    This connection went past the freeway, towards the trees. Elves
always went for trees. Historical fact, and one of the reasons the
Isles couldn't reclaim the Americas. Once the isle elves invaded they
were in already claimed lands. Our elves were fiercely protective of
their homes.
    Soaring above the treetops. Trailing link. Following Long Ear's
thread. Know this because of the colors. Four, five on connection.
Always Long Ear. Savage earth is fuzzy things. Ticks laced with red.
Pink meats complex, never sensible. Changes.
    Trees sway. Images trail before and after. Glow. Spirits of
living things. Diffuse compared to pink meats. Almost ghostly. Barely
tangible. Material vibrates. Faster than pink meat buildings. Easier
to pass by.
    Every living creature I saw had an aura about them. If my vision was
focused on a traveling person there would be a blur of energy just
before and after them. Almost like destiny dragging them forward one
moment at a time. With vampires, when they woke, that colored energy
rushed from the ether to their comatose bodies. Right in time with
sunset. Daniel and I had discussed it once over too many drinks and a
starlit night.
    Growing close. World small now. Look down. Will find what is
mine. Need to. Pulse thumps. There. Found the Long Ear. He kneels.
Appropriate. Trees dwarf him. Branches weave their patterns. Shade
blots sunlight. Air cools from their actions.
    Look at Long Ear’s face. Study. Still dirty. Hair,
unwashed, grains in it, oils. Tangles through. Can feel it all.
Disgraceful. Disrespectful.
    Long Ear shudders but knee stays firm. His pulse skips with my
displeasure. Barely feel supplicants weight against grass and dirt.
Confusing how it sits. Feel the face, search for reason, expression,
familiar. Faces all the same, regardless of specifies. Long Ear is
wary, tried. Cheeks drag, eyes pinched, wrinkles line eyes. Unsure
how old this one is.
    Lips move. Air vibrates. Almost make out the sounds. Inhuman,
incomplete. The reverberations of voice sink into the surrounding
wilds. Lost.
    In a startling moment of realization, I saw something else behind
him. A figure, standing tall and looking around. Its head resembled
the same mist that trailed after the trees. Almost like a spirit
detached from the body.
    Fog Head stares straight at me. The curve, posture, all
telling. I look back. Confusion runs through me. It speaks words,
clear