Of Secrets and Slippers
Copyright © 2022 by Chanda Hahn
Neverwood Press
Editor: A.L.D Editing
Proof Readers: Corrine Doxey
Cover Design: Covers by Christian
Map Illustration by Hanna Sandvig
ISBN: 9781950440337
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
CONTENTS
Thank you for downloading this ebook
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
About the Author
Also by Chanda Hahn
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CHAPTER ONE
The Dread Knot Tavern was busier than usual. A clamor of raucous sounds filled the air; the thuds of heavy mugs crashing onto the table, drunk and rowdy patrons calling out to the passing servant girls for refills. From the kitchen, the scent of roasting meat filtered out into the hall and mixed with the acrid scent of body sweat and ale. The floor, once a light oak, was now stained a dark brown from years of use and spillage.
The serving girl's hair was matted, her eyes filled with despair as she brought me a complimentary roll with my penny ale.
She dropped the wooden platter on the table and left, her boots making a sucking sound as they stuck to the viscous floor.
I swirled the contents of my mug and looked at the questionable brown contents before I scrunched up my nose in disgust. It looked like slop and smelled the same. The roll seemed dry, and I couldn’t help but pick it up and knock it against the table. I sighed, then dropped the roll and set the mug back onto the table as I leaned back to study the elf sitting across the table from me.
Lorn pulled his hood further over his head, keeping his pointed ears covered, but there was no hiding his silver-colored eyes. Even though he sat in a tavern surrounded by people, his aura was almost completely invisible. Using his elven gifts, he faded into the background noise of the tavern, where even the serving girl ignored him.
“You shouldn’t have come,” I said softly, running my fingers down the side of the mug, feeling the hairline crack in the ceramic. “I’m doing fine.”
“You haven’t been back to visit the Northern Woods since you went to Kiln. I was worried about you,” Lorn answered.
Northern Woods. The place where the elves lived, and where I’d spent most of my life passing through before heading back out on the road. My life was a careful balance of always moving, never staying in one place too long for fear of harming those I loved. Visiting my six sisters in Nihill and adoptive mother and then traveling along the ley lines for added protection.
“I don’t want to be a burden on you anymore,” I said. “I’ve seen almost twenty years. I can take care of myself. You’ve seen to that.” I crooked an eyebrow at him, daring him to deny that he was faulty in my training.
“Twenty,” he scoffed. “A baby in elven years, as it were.” Lorn smiled wanly.
“To your two hundred, I would expect as much.” I leaned back and dropped my hands to my lap. My mouth was dry, and my hands clasped tightly together under the table as I tried to tell my mentor I was ready to move on. “You’ve kept your promise to my mother. You’ve protected me; trained me how to live off the land. Figuratively and magically,” I added, referring to my curse that caused me to either block others' magic or drain them. It was the reason I had to stay close to the magical ley lines. They were my support when I couldn’t control myself.
“Honor,” he began.
“Now that my training is complete,” I said, rushing to speak before him, “there’s nothing keeping you from being free to love . . . who you love.”
Lorn’s shoulders stiffened. We’d never spoken about his affection for my adoptive mother, Lorelai Eville, but I knew. I had always known. The hidden glances, the lingering touches.
“Where are you going to go?” he asked gruffly, changing the subject.
“I’ll travel the ley lines and head south. Sion’s always nice this time of the year.”
“And dangerous,” he warned.
“Everywhere is dangerous.” I shrugged. “Remember that time in Candor when we stepped into a pit of drakefowls during mating season?”
Lorn chuckled. “I never told your mother about that one.”
“Good. She’d skin you alive if she found out. I still have a nasty scar from that encounter.” I held up the underside of my wrist, showing off the jagged mark that looked like a pine tree.
“It was only slightly poisonous,” Loran added.
“Slightly . . . I was heavily medicated and out of my mind. I think I proposed marriage to every person that week.”
“You did leave a trail of disappointed suitors,” he teased. Lorn froze, his eyes going to the door. After a few moments of tense silence, he released a strained breath. There was something bothering him, but he didn't want to talk about it. The furtive looks and the quiet stillness were both signs that he needed to be going, but he was delaying because of me.
I reached across the table and touched the top of his hand. Lorn stiffened. Elves did not like to be touched unnecessarily, but I did it to prove a point. His eyes drew to me. “You are the closest thing I’ve ever had to a father. I promise I won’t let you down. Besides—” I tapped my back and the slight bulge hidden under my cloak. “I won’t be alone. I have backup.”
Lorn’s lips twisted into a rare smile. “Backup. That’s more of a liability. I’m not sure why you were saddled with it.”