Aelthiriel's POV
I tried to think up what to do, since he seemed impervious to reasoning. Steal the map when he is asleep and run off with it.
That was wrong, and it would be cruel, especially to a man who saved my life. I bit down on my lip reproachfully for even thinking of that.
But dammit, he didn't give me any choice either.
What about tailing him? I was a shadow at night. I could tail him easily at night without him spotting me.
I was still sorting out my plans in my messy mind when my ears picked up on it.
Footsteps. It was undeniable.
I stiffened where I lay, pain flaring sharp and bright along my side. My fingers curled into the dirt as I listened harder, counting breaths, counting heartbeats.
One. Two. Three. It wasn't one person. It was more than one. The footsteps were heavy enough to be Briana's assassin's.
I tried to call him by his name, but I realized we hadn't gotten to the introduction yet. "Wizard," I whispered.
He was already moving. He rose to his feet in one smooth motion, staff sliding into his hand as though it had always been there. His head tilted slightly toward the cave mouth, body angling instinctively between me and the light.
"How many?" he murmured.
I swallowed, forcing myself to push up on one elbow despite the fire tearing through my abdomen. The cave entrance was half-lit, daylight spilling in just enough to outline shadows moving against the stone.
They were about five or six shadows. But I needed to be sure.
I shut my eyes and channeled all my concentration to my mind. As an Elf, I was born with magic, and it was more for surveillance than combat.
Using my powers, I made out the numbers of the enemy party, their form, their… They weren't Briana's assassins. I recognized their features. They were the popularly feared clan of hunters. The Amaleks.
Ice slithered up my spine. Had Briana sent them to get me? The Elven assassins I can avoid, but the Amaleks…
"How many?" he repeated, snapping, urgency raising his voice.
"Six. They're Amaleks," I breathed. "Armored. Two with crossbows."
His jaw tightened.
"Distance?" He grunted as he thought he hated that he had to ask me that.
"Thirty paces," I answered. "I don't think they have seen us yet, but they seemed pretty certain we are here."
A humorless huff escaped him. "They always do. Those bastards are the best trackers in the world."
He dropped carefully into a fighting stance, raising his staff for battle.
Less than a minute later, the Amaleks pulled up before the cave, blocking off the sunlight.
The first bolt struck the cave wall with a violent crack.
"Wizard—left!" I shouted.
He moved instantly. The bolt whistled past where his head had been a heartbeat earlier, shattering against the rock behind him.
He twisted, staff, slamming into the ground as a ripple of force burst outward, dust and loose stone exploding into the air.
The Amaleks swept through his attack, and they surged forward.
"Two charging," I said quickly, reading their moves with my powers. "One on high ground, near the stalactite, he's about to use magic. The other is creeping closer on your right. He intends to use his fist. He is too close for magic."
The wizard pivoted on my words alone. He dropped to the side, with an expert swerve of his feet, and the block of magic from the first guy fanned past him.
Somehow, he caught a little of the magic onto his staff and whipped it in the air like a ball against the other man.
The man was too close to duck. Besides, he was still recovering his balance halfway through his powerful punch. The magic block hit him point-blank in the face.
It charred his skin off like a parasite. A cruel wail of pain fired through the cave as he clutched his face, dropping back and crying in severe agony.
The wizard continued to fight, and his boot connected with an Amalek's armor. A sharp clink stole the air, drowned by a powerful wail as the Amalek flew in the air to crash roughly against the cave wall.
Magic flared briefly as the Amalek worked a counter. He must have cast the spell wrongly, because the reddish, magical glow that bloomed on his hands consumed him instead.
The Amalek thrashed around, yelling crazily as he was eaten alive by his own magic.
That was two down, leaving four. Still too much for a blind wizard to handle all by himself.
I wanted to join the fight, but I wouldn't be much use in such a magical combat. I was injured and a bit inexperienced with magic.
"Wizard! Behind you!" My voice cracked as I yelled.
He turned, but he was half a second too late, and a blade caught his shoulder. A sloshy noise announced the steel crushing through his skin.
Blood bloomed dark against his sleeve.
"You are injured," I screamed, gaping at the blood soaking his arm.
"I know," he snapped, breath already rough. "Just be my eyes. And please speak faster and louder."
It wasn't my fault that he moved too late, but I didn't get to argue about that. "Behind you—low!" I yelled out when an Amalek sneaked behind him.
He spun faster this time, staff sweeping just in time to catch an Amalek's legs. The man went down hard, skull meeting rock with a sickening sound.
Another raised a crossbow. I calculated the strength of his string and the way he pulled the arrow.
"An arrow, straight ahead. Six steps away. In five seconds, swerve to the right, it'll miss you." I whispered to the Wizard, louder, sharper.
He growled a grunt, almost as if he didn't believe my analysis, but he did as I asked anyway. He exhaled, and in five seconds, swerved heavily to the right while the arrow charged past him.
The Amalek archer snatched up another arrow. He stood back and away from the fight, so he wouldn't be disturbed, and he aimed for the Wizard's head again.
I gathered what little magic I could scrounge from my weak body—not enough to fight even if I could fight with it, but enough to mislead.
I slapped my palm against the wall, and the shadows near the cave wall trembled, stretching just slightly. They pulled the crossbowman's aim off by inches.
The bolt flew wide.
"Ten paces on your right, Wizard. Aim something, magic, spear, something—"
I didn't have to finish my sentence. He threw his hand high, and something like a dagger made purely of light spun from his hand. A couple of them actually.
The Amalek archer didn't get the chance to duck. The daggers flew into him like darts, slicing through his skin.
He managed just a croak of agony before he slumped to the wall, clutching a profusely bleeding neck.
The Wizard hurled his staff to the air, and when it came down, he made a flamboyant move that left the last Amalek clutching his chest.
The Wizard didn't give him time to think of a counter. He tipped up his staff by the bottom, caught it at the middle, and with power in his grip, he swung the bladed edge of his staff for the last Amalek's neck.
Blood sprayed about like a tap loose, and a head rolled to the dirt.
He stood still then, staff slick with blood, chest heaving. He didn't look at me—but then, he couldn't.
"More will come," he said quietly, rasping.
"Yes," I agreed. Though I knew not what else to say. Our next line of action depended on whether he was going to change his mind about a companion or not.
He turned his head toward me then, eyes still shut tight against the burning daylight. His expression carved from stone.
"We can't stay here, we have to move."
"I know."
I pushed myself upright despite the pain, gritting my teeth until I tasted blood.
He moved instantly toward me and dropped to his knees. His hand hovered as if unsure whether to touch me or not.
"Dammit," He cursed under his breath. His lips moved for words, but sealed shut after, and another tirade of curses flowed out.
I was tired of seeing a big man like him behave like a baby, unable to quell his ego. "Yes, I agree to your proposition," I said, to help him out of his misery.
"I didn't make any proposition." He growled.
"But you will, you need me just as I need you. You can't see during the day, and I am defenseless at night. We are both vulnerable at different times. We can be each other's strength. I can be your eyes during the day, you can be my protector at night."
"I don't fancy such arrangements." He looked from me to the cave opening, his chin trembling, jaw tightening. I could hear it crack. "I don't need your help. I can survive on my own. You are the one who needs help. You are my worry."
"Says the man who can't see during the day."
He made me a stiff smile, with half his face that was visible under the hood. "I have my ways of managing through that."
The tension in his jaw told me he was lying, but I refused to push it further. Males always loved their egos pampered.
Why I don't give a damn about his ego, circumstances force me to.
"So what are you going to do now?" I asked.
He turned to me, pushing his head low cause of the sun.
For almost a minute, his jaw trembled, not with anger but with restraint. His ego seemed too big to give up.
"Just for your sake, and to keep my conscience at rest, I will consider a partnership, but it will be until you are fully fit. Once you are, we split. Okay." He grunted, his tensed jaw cracking.
It was practically stupid, starting a partnership where one partner holds all power, but until the power shifted to me, I had no choice. "Okay," I echoed in agreement. "It's a partnership then."