Page 34 of Board Games and Broomsticks

‘Oh, you’re so right – Fen’s smitten!’ the bard whispered with glee, and the three of them dissolved into giggles as they watched Torin growing steadily pinker under Fen’s gaze. They barely had time to linger on the blossoming romance, though, as a fresh wave of customers escaping the icy November winds had them rushing to take orders and brew fresh pots of tea once again.

Nyssa walked into The Pixie’s Grove tavern that night to a chorus of welcomes, settled herself at the table Elowen always reserved for her and their friends, and was served her usual drink without having to order. It didn’t take long for her friends to join her. One by one, Liora, Alaric and Elowen settled themselves at the table.

‘Are we good to talk?’ Alaric asked, glancing around at the few crowded tables. The place was quieter tonight, as it always was in the middle of the week, and even though they trusted the citizens of Nighthaven with most things, this was something they didn’t want getting out.

Nyssa flashed him the privacy charm she’d brought with her – a small silver bracelet with a silencing enchantment woven into the metal links. ‘All good. People will hear us talking, but they won’t be able to figure out what we’re saying.’

Liora cleared her throat and, in a loud, clear voice, said, ‘Alaric likes to cuddle his favourite stuffed animal when he sleeps!’

Nyssa snorted as Alaric balked. He glanced around the room, shoulders tense, as he waited for the tavern-goers to turn his way. When no one did, Liora shot him a wide, innocent smile. ‘Looks like the charm works!’

Alaric pointed an accusing finger at her. ‘You’re an absolute menace, Liora Melswift.’

‘Someone has to keep you on your toes.’

‘I’ll have you know—’

‘As amusing as this is,’ Nyssa interrupted, her lips twitching, ‘I feel it is my duty to step in before complete chaos ensues. Alaric, how goes the translation?’

‘This isn’t over, bard.’ The smile twisting Alaric’s lips and the gentle, almost fond expression he wore was at odds with the threat. He rummaged inside his long woollen coat and withdrew a folded piece of parchment, which he smoothed out on to the table and twisted around so Nyssa could read. ‘It’s rough, and some of the words might not be quite right, but this is what I have.’

Nyssa leaned in, her stomach fluttering with a mixture of nerves and excitement as she read Alaric’s elegant scrawl.

Centuries ago, the elves hid an artefact of immense power, one believed to offer great protection to any who knew how to activate it. The artefact, which was created by the first elven clan, was once used in a sacred ritual to ward the clan members against a formidable enemy.

Elowen, who was pressed close to Nyssa’s side as she read alongside her, let out a small gasp. ‘This is talking about the Orb of Guardianship.’

Hope flared in Nyssa’s stomach, as warm and intoxicating as the way Elowen’s closeness made her feel. Finally, we’re getting somewhere. ‘Do you think it could help us?’ she asked.

‘From the tales I’ve heard of it, absolutely. All elven artefacts are intricately connected to the spiritual plane of this world, where every elf channels their power from. Which means using one during a spell or ritual can greatly enhance it – the Orb of Guardianship did just that, when the first elven clans used it to stop a creature of innate chaos from being able to enter the living realm.’

‘That’s exactly the sort of thing we need,’ Nyssa said, her fingertips tingling with magic. Apparently, her power was just as excited at the prospect of imprisoning Morven for good as she was. ‘Do you know where it is?’

A small sigh escaped Elowen’s lips. ‘No. Its location remains a mystery to those but the most powerful clan leaders.’

The flame of hope that had started in Nyssa’s stomach winked out.

‘Great,’ Liora huffed, sinking into her chair. ‘Is there any way to do the kind of spell you’re thinking of without the orb, Nys?’

‘I don’t think so,’ she said, trying to hide the deflated edge to her voice.

Liora groaned. ‘So we’re back to the drawing board, then.’

‘Not necessarily,’ said Elowen.’ I don’t know where the orb is located, but I have an old friend, Rhydian, who might.’ Elowen wrung her hands in front of her, a gesture she often made when she felt anxious about something. It wasn’t much of a stretch to guess what that something was: whoever Elowen was talking about was a member of her old clan. ‘Well, Elder Rhydian is his proper title now, I suppose. His father was the leader of my old clan, but he passed a few years after I left, so Rhydian has now ascended to take the role of Elder. I never understood why we had to perpetuate the structures of inherited power. It always seemed unfair to me.’ Her voice was quiet as she added, ‘It was something Rhydian and I fought about before I left. But …’ She took a breath, smoothed her fingers out against her knees. ‘I will try to arrange a meeting.’

Nyssa fought the urge to reach out and take her hands in her own. ‘I can do it. If you give me their details, I’ll write to them.’

‘No, I should be the one to do it. They’re … elusive, and very distrustful.’

Nyssa didn’t know how much the others knew of Elowen’s past, so she bit down on her tongue, holding her words for when they were alone. But Elowen was frustratingly perceptive. She offered Nyssa a gentle, reassuring smile. ‘It’s fine. They may be distrustful, but not of me, nor am I of them.’

‘All right, but let me come with you. To the meeting.’ She didn’t want to overstep, but whenever she’d had to face her past, having Elowen or Liora or Alaric at her side always made her feel stronger. She wanted to offer that sort of strength to Elowen, if she could.

And if whoever this contact was turned out to hurt the elf, then, well, Nyssa’s grandmother’s grimoire had plenty of creative curses she could try.

‘Okay, let’s meet again in—’

A strange sense of foreboding washed over Nyssa and at the same time Nyx, who until now had been happily curled up in a ball beside the fire, let out a long hiss. Her familiar jumped up on to the table beneath one of the tavern’s beamed windows, her tail swishing furiously as she let out a low warning growl.