The Goblets Immortal by Beth Overmyer (read 50 shades of grey .TXT) 📕

Aidan made quick work of Dismissing everything else, leaving the fire to be dealt with by the elves. He Dismissed the blade and grabbed the girl. He slapped a hand over her mouth before she could scream, and murmured, “One sound and I’ll knock you out cold. Do you understand?” When she didn’t move, he took that as a yes. “I’m going to remove my hand now.” And he did.

The girl was silent and still.

Well, that was easy enough, he thought. He released her, and nudged her toward his horse.

One of the elves muttered something nonsensical in their sleep, and the others responded with great snorts of their own.

Aidan froze for a moment, before deciding his movements had not disturbed the four, and then mounted Triumph. With a low grunt, he grabbed his prisoner by the waist, pulling her up in front of him.

She didn’t resist. It would seem that she was willing to leave her mistresses.

I’m stealing from elves, he thought, shaking his head. What in this blessed world am I thinking? There was no choice left to him, though. The elves wanted the goblet, and the girl had the information; he wanted both but wouldn’t be given both…so he was taking both.

As if in answer to his thoughts, one of the elves let out a piercing shriek, waking the others. “Bandit! Thief!”

Aidan kicked Triumph into a gallop, leaning forward and into the girl as sparks of green and gold struck at the air around them, near and explosive missiles. The horse picked up speed, but the elves – the elves were somehow keeping pursuit on foot.

He leaned to the left, taking a sharp turn with the reins, nearly throwing him and the girl out of the saddle. Something hot hit him in the shoulder, burning through his clothes and searing his flesh, though the pain disappeared almost instantly. A warning shot…that or they did not want to kill or maim the girl by mistake.

“Give her back! Give her back!” they screamed, murder in their voices.

Aidan didn’t dare look behind, but murmured encouragement to his steed. He had hoped to be concealed in the darkness, where he could hide off the side of the road. But with the bolts of magic fire flashing over and around him, the road was as bright as day.

Triumph was already puffing great clouds of steam in the late air. This pace couldn’t be sustained; it would kill the beast. Cursing his luck, Aidan made a last-second decision. The goblet was perhaps important, but not worth his life.

With a grunt, he ripped the goblet out of the girl’s hands and tossed it onto the flaming road behind him. Curious, he chanced a glance over his shoulder. Another bolt of green and yellow light was hurled his way, but he managed to dodge it.

The four had stopped their pursuit to have a look at their prize.

Aidan took advantage of their distraction and rode off the road and into the wood, his pace slow, silent, and steady. The moon provided some light to see by, and they rode as far as he dared in the semi-darkness, even as the elves again took up their inhuman shrieking.

“They won’t stop lookin’ for me,” the girl said. “I know too much.”

Chapter Four

Aidan didn’t sleep a jot that night, hiding in the brush with Triumph, the girl, and the knowledge that he could be caught and murdered at any moment. At one point, he swore he heard whispering, followed by a quickly hushed cackle. More than once he was tempted to return the girl and save his own skin. But then he thought of his missing family, his responsibility, and the answers this simple girl might hold.

At first he fooled himself, flattered himself that her Pull had nothing to do with his decision. Then, as she fell asleep, he explored the strange tug between them, annoyed more than curious.

He couldn’t have anything slowing him down, and what was he thinking bringing her with him? Maybe the elves would have given him the answers that he needed if he had stayed around ’til morning to hear them.

And yet…what was fairer to her? She had given him the salve for his hand, possibly taken a beating for it.

Aidan groaned and Summoned his cloak, which he threw over the girl. “There. We’re even.” Almost.

* * *

At the dawning, sleep tugging at the corners of his eyes, Aidan took care of some personal business nearby behind a tree and Summoned the meager supply of food he had left. He would have to forage until he could reach Wontworth and replenish his wares.

There were some dried fruits and smoked meats, herbs, beaver fat, and enough water skins to see them through one more day, give or take a few hours, which was worrisome. As for Triumph – he had as much hay and alfalfa as Aidan could possibly hold on to. He Dismissed all but what they needed for the morning, and returned to camp.

The girl was gone.

Aidan cursed himself for being so careless. So distraught was he that he did not think to explore the Pull. But then he strained his hearing and could make out singing in that same strange, lilting voice he had heard whilst at the Roma camp.

Tee diddle diddly dee

The sky was clear as can be

The gull called to the sea

And the fish answered to he:

“Wishes is for fishes

A kraken a-washin’ the dishes

Go lookin’ elsewhere for your fishes

For I am not for thee.”

Relief washed over Aidan and escaped his chest in one great gasp. He drained a few mouthfuls from the sheep’s bladder and watched as Triumph dined on several fistfuls of hay.

The singing cut off shortly, and the girl wandered back into the camp, scratched up and dirt-smudged. She didn’t give Aidan a second look, but set two eggs in his pile of food supplies.

“Where did you get those?”

The girl – Slaíne, Aidan remembered – shook her head and wiped her brow. “Pigeon’s nest.”

“A pigeon’s nest?” Aidan