Free Sword's Call by C. A. Szarek Page A

know what we’re doing.”
    Cera shrugged.
    What did it really matter?
    She didn’t have a choice but to wait.
    “Your father had better be good,” she told Jorrin, looking up at him.
    One corner of his mouth lifted, but he didn’t respond.
    Hadrian chuckled. “I trained him . . .” the old elf winked, his blue eyes sparkling.
    Cera managed a small smile, leaning into Jorrin as he gave her another comforting squeeze. She didn’t want to resist his touch, she wanted more of it.
    “This is going to take me some time, and I need to concentrate.” Avery took a deep breath. “I will find what I am looking for, Cera, I promise. And we’ll find your father, Jorrin.”
    She grudgingly admired her cousin’s determination.
    Jorrin whispered his thanks.
    “In the meantime, I’m rather low on supplies . . .” Hadrian grimaced, looking around the room. “It’s a bit late to go into the village . . . can either of you hunt?”
    “I’m good with a bow, if you have one. Mine’s in Greenwald,” Cera said.
    “I can fix that,” the elf wizard said, “if you’d be willing to catch supper.”
    “Of course. Are you up for it, Jorrin?”
    “Yes.”
    Cera’s heart thundered. She’d be alone with him again. She stared into his blue eyes.
    Jorrin didn’t look away, either, making her shift on the chair.
    “Well, then, let’s get your bow,” Hadrian said.
    Reluctantly she tore her gaze away from Jorrin and glanced at the elf.
    He raised his wand and began to recite a spell. It was Aramourian, but it was obviously a couplet, the words had flow and sounded as if they rhymed.
    The wand began to glow green, and the elf moved it back and forth several times. His chanting became louder and he closed his eyes. The green glow brightened, slowly moving outward from Hadrian’s wand to surround his arm, creeping up until it encircled his whole body like an aura.
    A moment later, a bow and a quiver full of arrows appeared before the four of them and hovered in the air.
    Cera gasped.
    It was her own bow, a gift from Captain Moray, leader of the King’s Riders.
    She’d received it upon achieving the rank of Senior Rider. She’d had to leave it at Marshek’s tavern in the room where she’d been staying. Mourned its loss, too. Never expected to see it again. Tears blurred her vision.
    “Well, go on, I can’t hold it up forever,” Hadrian said.
    “How did you . . . ?” Her voice trembled as she rose from the chair and grabbed her prize. Cera took the quiver, slung it over her shoulder, holding the bow with one hand, and landing heavily in the cushioned seat.
    She’d always loved the bow. Cera caressed the smooth wood from top to bottom, fingering the grip and hugging it to her chest.
    King Nathal himself had bid his weapons crafter make it for her, and it was the finest bow she’d ever owned. It was short, but performed like a longbow and had the smoothest pull she’d ever used. She’d loved it from the first time she’d shot an arrow from it.
    “I’m a wizard, that’s how.” Hadrian winked.
    “Thank you, Hadrian. I mean it—thank you. This means so much to me.” Cera planted a kiss on the old elf’s cheek. His cheeks reddened, and she giggled.
    Jorrin chuckled.
    “Get outta here and get me some dinner, then,” the wizard barked.
    Jorrin and Cera hurried out, holding the door open for Trikser. They exchanged a grin and then burst out laughing.
    She heard Hadrian ask Avery just what he thought he was looking at and her cousin’s answering laugh as Jorrin shut the door.
     
****
    “Here lad, eat.” Hadrian set the full bowl of hearty deer stew on the table in front of Avery. The redhead didn’t even look up from the dusty old tome.
    They’d been able to down a white-tailed deer.
    Hadrian was overjoyed he’d not been required to make the kill himself. He’d explained that due to his gift of understanding animals, hunting was very graphic for him. The elf could hear and feel the animal’s pain.