Kinked (Elder Races, #6)(73)

The young healer looked even more scared than he had last night. Aryal said to him, “Imagine it’s like an arterial wound. You have to act fast before your patient bleeds out. This is the same thing, only you might become the bleeder.”

Caerreth paled. “I guess I see your point.”

Quentin said to her, “You’re not helping, sunshine.”

She gave him a wide-eyed look. “Was it something I said?” She watched with furtive pleasure as he bit back a smile. She told him, “I’m taking two of the kids, and we’re going to the mall, honey. You know, looking for weapons, armor, that kind of thing. We’ll be as quick as we can.”

“Drive safe,” he said, his gaze going sharp.

She gave him a limpid glance. “Oh, you know me. I can never parallel park the minivan right.”

He burst out laughing. “Now that is a nightmarish image.”

She smirked and walked out.

He called out after her, “Be fast. Don’t make me come after you.”

Linwe and Aralorn waited for her at the cell block door. Aralorn looked a little leery of the banter, but Linwe’s eyes were dancing.

When Aryal reached them, she said loudly, “What can I say. When your dad hit middle age, he turned into a worrywart.” More quietly, she said, “Let’s go.”

Finding the barracks was as much an exercise in logic as anything. They had to work their way upward, and for the first part of the journey, Linwe took the lead until they reached the kitchens, which were on the ground floor and not dug into the cliff itself.

The kitchens were located on the side of the palace that faced inland, away from the Temple of the Gods and the sea, and they had plenty of windows to allow for fresh air and natural light.

Dawn had long since broken, and the cloudless morning had turned bright. The heat was beginning to build up. The Elves were going to have a challenging run on their hands, wearing the armor. Aryal walked through the large kitchen area, looking out windows as she considered the placement of the nearby buildings.

She said, pointing, “There. That long, low building. That’s the barracks. There’ll be an armory of special shit somewhere here in the palace, stuff that Camthalion himself and any of his heirs would have worn, but I don’t want to waste time hunting for it. I’d rather go for the plain battle armor.”

“How do you know that’s it?” Linwe asked as Aralorn joined them at the window.

She shrugged. “I don’t for sure, but logic tells me it is. The building is plain. Also, look at its position. It almost completely blocks the way from the mainland, except for that road. It is an effective barrier, which is great protection. You would want soldiers in that building, in case of attack.”

Linwe smiled at her. “I’m kinda girl crushing on you right now.”

Aryal gave her a wry smile. Once not that long ago, she would have taken the opening Linwe gave her and started a flirtation, but now she couldn’t summon the interest. “You’re awfully cute too. Let’s go.”

She took the lead as they headed out the door at a jog. The building was around two hundred feet away, which they crossed within a few minutes. When they found a door and entered, they discovered that Aryal had guessed right. Rows of bunks filled a large open area. Attached to one side of the building was an armory with suits of armor and a wide variety of weapons: longbows and arrows, short swords, long swords, maces, battleaxes, spears, throwing stars and knives. Despite her desire to hurry, Aryal had to pause a moment to stare at the treasure with covetous glee.

In one special cabinet, they found shelves of Elven healing potion. Each bottle shone against her mind’s eye like stars.

They moved fast and collected everything they needed, enough armor for all of them, a basic complement of weapons, and supplies of the precious healing potion. As tempted as she was by some of the weaponry, Aryal focused on getting long swords for herself and Quentin, along with longbows and arrows. The shadow wolves wouldn’t be overcome with physical weapons, and she doubted that Galya would either. The real treasures were the armor and the healing potion.

Linwe and Aralorn had buckled on armor right away, which was an intelligent choice—it gave them immediate protection and made everything else easier to carry. After she saw what they had done, Aryal did the same.

As she finished buckling the chest plate into place, Linwe came to join her. Linwe said telepathically, I’m really happy about you and Quentin.

What?

Aryal’s head came up. Her internal crowd of new emotions started to riot again. She stared at Linwe. What do you mean?

The younger woman’s friendly smile faltered. You and Quentin. You’re together, aren’t you? I mean, you spent last night together, and the way you look at each other … and he follows you with his eyes with an expression I’ve never seen before. I just thought … I mean, it seemed obvious.…

Aryal ran her fingers through her hair and tried to massage some kind of rational thought into her tired brain. He follows me with his eyes?

Linwe grimaced, looking embarrassed. I got it wrong, didn’t I?

I don’t know, she admitted. And there was that giant spongy finger again, pointing to the placard. Total f*cking win-win. She tried to give Linwe a smile, but it felt like it came out all twisted and wrong. It’s early days yet. We’re still feeling our way.