Safe Place By Eliza Eveland

A Talons and Tethers short story

I CRACK OPEN AN EYE AT the sound of my boy shuffling about. It’s early enough that the room is still dark, but he doesn’t light a candle. There was a time when he would have been afraid to walk around the palace in the dark, but those years have long since passed. Now, my bones are weary and my joints ache in the morning chill, but I lift my head and thump my tail against the floor just the same.

In the deep shadow, I hardly recognize him. He’s gotten taller, leaner, stronger. We don’t play ball as much as we used to either. It’s just as well. I don’t have the energy I used to, and my eyes aren’t as good as they once were. I know his smell, though, and even if it’s changed a little through the years, it makes me happy. He smells different from the humans around the palace, like the first autumn frost on leaves and wet earth, but all elves smell a little more like the wild world than the stone buildings humans make.

He pulls on his heavy socks, and his boots, but it’s not until he reaches for his bow that I know why he’s gotten up so early. “Come on, Brick,” he whispers as he passes me on the way to the door.

That’s what he calls me, and I call him Boy, even if he is more a man now. He’ll always be my boy.

My joints creak and pop as I rise, but I shake out the stiffness and follow him. We’re going hunting for rabbits, or maybe pheasants. I hope it’s rabbits. They’re more fun to chase.

The big hallway is empty except for a few men in iron suits. They help me guard my boy, and sometimes they have treats. I nose the one at the door, checking his pockets just in case he has one.

“Mornin’, Prince Faelyn,” says Orin, patting my head. “You’re up early.”

My boy sighs. “I was hoping to slip out before you got here. Can you just pretend you didn’t see me?”

“King Crow will kick my ass all the way to Greymark if I let you go out hunting alone.” Orin digs into his pocket and brings out a dry cracker. Not my favorite treat, but

I’m starving, so I take it.

“I won’t be alone. I have Brick.”

I wag my tail and puff out my chest. See, Orin? I can guard him, too.

Orin sighs and crosses his arms. “I know he’s a war hound, but he’s not a very good one, Faelyn. He’s getting up there in years, you know.”

Rude! I try to hack up the cracker on his boot, but it’s stuck in my throat.

“Please, Orin? Cover for me just this once. It’s not like I can’t handle myself, and I’m just going out to Mercia’s estate. I’ll be within sight of the estate walls the whole time, and I’ll be back before lunch. I swear it!”

Orin huffs out a breath, considering us for a moment. He looks down at me. I wag my tail and try to look cute. “Don’t make me regret this,” he says and turns his back, pretending to examine the ceiling. “My, what lovely masonry. I’ve never noticed.”

While Orin is busy examining the rocks, we sneak away.

There are more guards at the mouth of the castle, but we don’t go that way, instead slipping out a window in the library. There’s a little ledge there that gets slippery when it rains, but it’s been dry lately. My boy leaps down to the ground and turns around, holding out his arms for me to jump. I go without hesitation, and he catches me with a grunt.

“Are you getting fatter or am I just getting weaker?” he says as he puts me down.

What is it with people being rude to me today? It’s called muscle, Boy. All hounds have it. You should try getting some.

He snorts and replies, You keep telling yourself that, old hound.

I don’t talk mind-to-mind with my Boy as much as I used to. He wants to keep his powers secret, though I don’t understand why. There are dozens of mages in Brucia, even a special school for him to go and learn more about his magic, but my boy doesn’t like schools. He doesn’t like people telling him what to do, or when to do it, or why. Once upon a time, before I knew him, he was raised as a slave in an elven war camp, and he says there was enough ordering about in that job for a lifetime.

Carefully, quietly, we make our way through the little courtyard on the side of the palace, and he hoists me over the squat stone wall. Jumping down makes my joints ache, but I shake it off. Once we’re free of the palace walls, he pulls up his hood and we hurry on our way. Human guards, with their inferior sense of smell, only have their eyes to rely on, and they will only see a man and his dog out for a morning stroll. We go to the stables where I catch a fly and eat it while my boy is saddling Toffee, his favorite horse.

Morning, hound, says Cinnamon, the old mare. Thanks for getting that fly for me. I’ve been swatting him all night.

I grin and let my tongue loll out of the side of my mouth proudly.

Ah, if it isn’t the war hound. I wondered what that stench was.

I know that voice. With a snort, I lift my attention to the rafters where a black and white tomcat carefully crawls along one of the high boards. ‘Lo, Tom! How did you get out this time?

Tom Whiteshanks is an inside cat, but he’s not very good at it. He gets out a few times a week, usually to come chase mice or pigeons. I sometimes help.

He grins down at me. I got into the mage’s workshop. He always keeps a window open in there when he’s brewing potions.

Your boy is going to miss you.

Tom sighs and rolls his eyes. For the last time, hound. Isaac is not my boy. He is my servant.

I quirk my head and perk my ears in doubt. Are you sure he sees it that way?

He feeds me, collects my droppings, and showers me with love and affection. What else would he be?

Tom gives a lazy stretch, tail twitching. What’s yours up to?

We’re going hunting! I think. My tail thumps loudly against the floor, sweeping errant bits of hay back and forth. You should come with us! It’ll be fun! There are rabbits and birds and all kinds of weird things to sniff and pee on!

He pauses licking his paw to look down at me, whiskers twitching. Good gods, hound. Have you no decency at all?

Nope! I pant. I don’t even know what that is.

Clearly, Tom replies dryly and goes back to licking his paw.

So, does that mean you’ll come with?

Not today, hound. Today is the day I finally catch that white mouse that’s eluded me in here, and then I plan to nap in a sunbeam.

Tom has been trying to catch that white mouse for weeks. I’m pretty sure he’s actually caught it twice and just let it go so he’ll have an excuse to visit the horses every day.

Faelyn has Toffee saddled and leads him out of the stall, signaling we’re ready to go.

Enjoy your sunbeam, I say to Tom as my boy mounts the horse.

Enjoy your pissing on things, Tom replies as I trot out of the stables behind my boy.

I follow Toffee and my boy along in silence, enjoying our walk through the brisk morning. Most of Brucia is still asleep, but there are people beginning to wake in the deepest parts of the city.

The faint glow of lanterns bleeds through windows into the street at the bakery and my stomach growls at the smell of fresh dough. We pass the butcher who sometimes has treats for me, but his window is still dark. No treats this morning.

At the gate, the guards stand around like sleepyheads and don’t even notice the elf prince and his war hound as we trot on, passing under the stone arch and across the drawbridge into the wide, wild world.

There, nothing sleeps. Crickets sing in the tall grass off the dirt path. Field mice scurry around looking for somewhere to hide. I track a beetle for a little while, nose to the ground, until it sprouts wings and flutters away. Then I have to run to catch up with my boy.

When we reach the Y in the road, he takes Toffee to the right. I pause, the fur prickling at my neck. Mercia’s estate is the other way.

“We’re not going to Mercia’s estate,” Faelyn says.

My stomach complains. It would’ve been breakfast time when we arrived, and Mercia and Aryn have no shortage of children willing to drop me scraps.

Where, then? I ask, trotting up behind Toffee carefully. I don’t want to get kicked.

“Don’t worry, Brick. I’ve got some snacks for you in my bag.”

As hungry as I am, snacks aren’t my biggest concern. I can guard my boy just fine against most things, but what if something goes wrong? I’m not as young and spry as I used to be. No one will know where to look for us if something happens.

I’m on high alert as we veer off the road and into the high grass. It’s too early and too cold for snakes to be about, but the world seems to have gone silent, as if the crickets and mice can sense a predator I can’t see or smell.

The twinge of color in the sky deepens, brightening to a tapestry of pink and orange. The shadows become shallower and soon the grassland stretched out before us is bathed in the gold light of dawn.

I bound through the tall weeds, knocking dew from the plants, and kicking free fluffy white balls of flower seeds. Some of the seeds stick to my fur, but the rest dance in the sky before flying off. A yellow butterfly lands on my nose and I try to catch it, but it flaps away.

A little further on, I catch the scent of two rabbits and start to lead my boy to their hiding place. When he doesn’t follow, I spin around and bark excitedly, but he keeps riding, disinterested in my find. In fact, he seems disinterested in everything around him.

It’s like he’s got somewhere else to be, but that’s not how hunting works. I start to wonder if he’s confused. My boy is usually a very good hunter.

We come up on a lake with a sandy beach and some trees beyond. There are ducks in the water, and I want to chase them, but I hang back, not wanting to leave my boy.

Faelyn dismounts near the beach. It’s a little cold for humans to swim. He doesn’t have enough fur to keep him warm, but I’m game if he is. He doesn’t go to the water though. My boy pats down the horse before plopping down in the grass with his bag. As soon as he opens it, my stomach rumbles again. There’s some of last night’s ham sandwich in there; I can smell it.

He grins and takes out the sandwich, unwrapping it from the paper. “You want this, boy?”

Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes! I bounce around, panting and making excited little barks until he laughs and tosses the sandwich. I catch it and gobble it up in just a few bites before I go sniffing about for crumbs.

For a little while, he just sits there, arms wrapped around his knees, watching the sun come up over the lake.

Are you waiting for something? I ask once I get bored with nosing through the dirt for crumbs.

Faelyn doesn’t answer me.

I’m starting to really worry about him when a familiar whistle cuts through the air. Faelyn jumps to his feet and returns the whistle. A bush near some trees shakes, and I trot forward, ears perked, ready to leap on whatever comes out. But when I see who it is, I relax and let out a happy bark, running to greet him.

Will is a few years younger than my boy, but he might as well be my other boy. We’ve been having adventures together for years. My favorite days used to be the ones we all three spent together. I’d guard them while they took long walks, or went riding together, and then we’d sit under the stars, watching them all come out. There used to be sleepovers, too, but not anymore. Now, Will doesn’t come to the palace, and Faelyn doesn’t go to see Will at his house. The only times we’re all together are moments like this one, out in the middle of nowhere.

The air always smells like sadness on those days with a twinge of regret. I don’t understand what’s happened between them to change everything, either. All I know is that now, when my boys come together, they only have time for each other. They don’t play with me anymore.

“Will!” Faelyn sounds relieved to see him.

“Did you miss me?” Will says with a lopsided grin and throws his arms around Faelyn.

They embrace and lock lips briefly before Will pulls away and asks, “Did she see you?”

He means Talia, my boy’s half-sister. She’s not allowed to leave the palace after she used her magic to make some boy at the mage school cut off his finger. Talia thinks that because she’s not allowed to leave, Faelyn shouldn’t leave either, but she’s not the boss of him. She’ll be queen one day, but not yet.

My boy shakes his head. “Only Orin, and he knows to keep his mouth shut.”

“Faelyn…” Will sighs.

“I don’t want to talk about Talia,” Faelyn says, and they go back to kissing each other.

For a while, I pace around them. Someone’s got to keep an eye out for bears and monsters while those two clean each other’s teeth with their tongues. But I get bored and trot off to check on those ducks when they fall in the grass together.

There are three of them in the pond. Maybe if I’m quick and quiet, I can get one by the neck. Then I can show my boy what a good hunter I am. Then he’ll remember. He’ll pat my ears and tell me what a good boy I am. Maybe Will and my boy will even cook up the duck and I can have some. We can sit around the fire and watch the stars come out, just like we used to!

I hunch down, muscles coiled tight, and wait for the perfect opportunity. Then, I strike, rushing the ducks as they swim into the reeds. The water is deeper than I realized, though, and there’s a giant splash as I leap in. The ducks scatter. Though I try my best to get one, they all get away.

Might as well go for a swim, then.

The water’s brisk, and it gets even colder the further out I go. It’s not quite time for frost yet, but it will be soon. When the snow falls, I wonder where my boys will meet.

It’ll be too cold to go stripping half naked for a roll in the snow, even if they build a fire. They need four walls, a shelter, a safe place. Why isn’t home safe? Maybe because of Talia. She doesn’t like Will. She doesn’t like anything that makes my boy happy. But why can’t they go to Will’s house? He lives with Aryn and Mercia. I like going there. It’s a busy place with lots of children who will play with me, but I haven’t been there in such a long time. I’m starting to forget what it smells like.

On my way back to shore, I spot a fat little catfish and dive for it. He tries to whip away and stir up the mud, but my jaws closed around him. What luck! We can have a fish supper now! Even better than duck.

Proud of myself, I carry the still wriggling fish out of the water and trot over to where my boys are lying, still kissing each other. I’m a little annoyed when they don’t notice me standing there with my prize. Maybe I can get their attention if I give them a chance to participate in catching the fish. I even decide to make it easy by spitting the fish into the grass. It flops there and starts to wriggle away, but the boys don’t even notice. I whine and they don’t even look up. They’re too busy grunting to hear.

What’s a good boy got to do to get noticed these days?

I pick the fish back up, trot over, and drop it right on Faelyn’s naked back.

My boy screams and flails, sending the fish flopping down his backside. It falls in the grass where it bounces up and down while Faelyn flails some more, fighting to his feet. “What the… Brick! Bad dog!”

Bad dog? What did I do? I was only trying to share. I lower my head and tuck my tail anyway. The air smells confusing, like pheromones, and fish, and anger, and shame. I try to make up for it by licking his hand, but he pulls away, yanking his pants back up.

“Just leave us alone for five damn minutes, would you?”

I’m sorry. I just thought we could have fun like the old days.

“Those days are over,” my boy snapped at me. “I’m not a kid anymore, Brick! I don’t need you, or anyone else, to look out for me! And I don’t need your stupid fish! Gods, I must look like a lunatic. I shouldn’t even be talking to you!”

But—

“It’s dangerous, Brick! Magic is dangerous and if I get caught…” He stops when Will puts a hand on his shoulder. My boy sighs and hangs his head before gesturing widely. “Just go. Take your fish and leave us alone.”

I look down at the fish, which has gone still in the grass, eyes and scales shining as it dries. Whatever interest I had in it before is gone. I leave it and slink away, head and tail tucked. It isn’t the first time my boy has yelled at me, but it stings worse than usual for some reason.

I drag myself around the lake and out of sight, flopping into the shade of some bushes. I’m far enough away I don’t have to hear them, and they don’t have to see me. There’s a big beetle scurrying in the dirt, trying to bury itself. I try to focus on that, but it’s impossible. My insides hurt, but I’m not hungry anymore, so it can’t be that. It’s like hunger in my chest, and it hurts.

Why don’t my boys want me around anymore? I know that I’m old, and that they’ve grown. They’ve gotten busier, true, but life is still life. There should be good days and bad, time for games and fun when the work is done. But they don’t want to play with me.

I’ve become a burden, just something else for my boy to worry about and take care of. Maybe I should run into the woods. I could chase rabbits as much as I wanted, and no one would be around to yell at me. I could run and jump and swim all day if I wanted to.

But then my boy would be alone at night. Alone in the dark.

Just leave us alone for five damn minutes!

That seems to be what he wants. Sometimes, people say things they don’t mean, though. Tom taught me that. He calls it sarcasm, but I don’t think Faelyn is being sarcastic. No, he really does want me to go away.

Let him have what he wants. I rise and spend a minute pawing at the beetle, just enough to flip him on his back. Then I start off to the woods. After a few steps, I stop and look back, just to make sure he’s not following me, or waving the other half of that sandwich I know he has. No, he’s curled up in the grass with Will. He doesn’t need me anymore.

The forest is quiet, the shadows deep and cool. There are a lot of new smells like pine needles and owl pellets, but no rabbits. I come to a fallen tree with moss and strange mushrooms growing on it. It’s too big to climb over. If my boy were with me, I wouldn’t have that problem. He’d climb over first and then pull me with him. Instead, I have to go around, and it seems to take forever.

Just as I clear the other side, I hear the distant nicker of a horse. Not Toffee. Her voice isn’t quite like that. This is a stranger I’ve never smelled before. Maybe it’s Will’s horse? But what’s it doing all the way out here? I trot closer, leaning against a tree on the edge of the forest.

“Let him go!” Faelyn’s demand cuts through the air.

Peering out from my hiding place, I see him standing in the middle of a circle of men and horses. One of them, a man dressed in black, has Will, a knife to his throat. My boy has drawn his bow and nocked an arrow, but there are men behind him. Even if he fires, he can’t take them all.

The man in black laughs. “You fire that arrow, and you’ll wish you hadn’t. Come along peacefully, little princeling, and I won’t open your lover boy from ear to ear. Well, not yet anyway.”

A wave of chuckles floats around the circle.

“You move one muscle, and you’ll die where you stand!” Faelyn shouts, bow trembling. “I’ll kill you where you!”

“You and what army, boy?” The man in black gestures around with the knife. “You’re all alone out here. No guard. No one to protect you.”

“I’m not alone! There’s a whole unit of guards in the forest there. They’ll be back any moment.”

I quirk my head to the side. That’s a lie. No guards came with us. Faelyn made sure of that. The only thing in the forest is…me? Surely, he doesn’t mean me, though. I’m only one old war hound.

The man in black and his friends look around nervously. If only it were true. A whole unit of guards might scare them away, and my boy would be safe.

And then I get an idea. If my boy can lie to protect someone he loves, maybe I can do the same thing.

I slide back out of sight, puff out my chest and turn my snout to the sky before letting out an undulating howl.

“What in the nine hells is that?”

“It’s nothing. Keep your wits about you.”

“Sounds like a demon!”

I snarl and scratch at the dirt, before running through some thick bushes to make them rustle. There’s a small tree that I put my paws up on to shake it. The trunk snaps under my weight and the branches go down.

“Have you ever met my father?” Faelyn says, his tone warning. “He’s the biggest elf you’ve ever seen. Seven feet tall with eyes like burning coals.”

I find another tree and run up it, making it bow and bend. The wood snaps and cracks like thunder.

“At the Battle of Brucia, he killed a hundred men, three at once with a single swing of his sword,” Faelyn continues.

“That’s crap. He’s just another elf,” spits the man in black.

“He’s king of the elves,” replies a nervous man.

I peek through the leaves and see the man in black threatening one of his own with the knife now.

“And what does the king of elves have?” says the man in black. “Gold, stupid, and lots of it. He’ll pay through the nose to get his boy back. You want to be rich? Or a coward?”

I claw my way through some more brush, making it shake loudly. Several pheasants flee and take to the air. I howl again, this time lower and louder.

“That’s no demon, Viktor. That’s a Molossus war hound!”

“Shut up!” roars the man in black. “It’s one stupid dog! Are you really going to piss yourself over one mutt?”

“Wherever the hound is, his master’s sure to be close by,” Faelyn warns, stepping closer. “My father commands a whole kennel of hungry hounds. You know they eat your face first. And then your balls. They like the soft bits best of all.”

I rake at the tree bark with my claws, snarling and growling, trying to sound as mean as I can. Then, with heavy steps, I stomp to the edge of the forest, sitting in a deep shadow where my black fur blends in and only my eyes peer out. I flash my teeth and bark menacingly, letting the drool go everywhere.

“Mother have mercy!” shouts one of the bandits. He drops his weapons and bolts, climbing onto his horse and galloping away.

Once one breaks and runs, most of the others follow. They mount their horses. I chase after some, snapping at horse hooves, barking and snarling all the way. As soon as they see me, even more run, and soon it’s just the man in black holding his knife to Will’s throat.

Will rears back, smashing his skull against the man’s nose and throwing an elbow into his ribs. On instinct, the man in black grabs for his bloody nose, and lets Will wriggle away. I pounce the man in black and knock him to the ground. With two big paws on his chest, I pin him to the ground and lean down to growl. My boy leans in, an arrow pointed at the man in black’s nose.

His hands shoot up to cover his face. “All right! All right, already! I get it! You win. I lose. Now call off your hound!”

“Swear you’ll leave us alone!” My boy shouts.

When the man doesn’t reply right away, I move a paw to his throat. He makes a very satisfying choking sound before I let up.

“I swear to leave you be and let you go,” replies the man in black. “Just get this monstrous beast off my bloody chest!”

You should shoot him, I say to my boy.

Does he smell like a lie? Faelyn asks.

I sniff the air before huffing out a disappointed breath. No.

Faelyn hesitates only a moment, just long enough that I think he might let the arrow go. Instead, he takes a half step back. “Release him, Brick.”

With a frustrated snort, I back off and let the man rise.

He dusts off his black shirt. “You might have gotten lucky today, prince, but the Brotherhood has long memories and casts a long shadow. This isn’t—”

I interrupt his pointless speech by lifting a leg to pee on his foot. He shrieks like an offended eagle and scrambles away.

“You’re dead, you hear me?” he shouts, climbing onto his horse. “You and everyone you love.” He rides a circle around us shouting, “Trinta never forgets!” before galloping off.

Faelyn drops his bow and throws his arms around Will, squeezing him tight. “I thought I lost you.”

“You’ll have to try harder than that,” Will quips and squeezes back.

They part and Faelyn drops to one knee, arms outstretched. “Come here, boy!”

He doesn’t have to tell me twice. Panting, I bound across the space between us and throw myself into his arms hard enough to knock him over. Laughing, he falls to his back, and I tackle him, licking his face. For a minute, I feel like a puppy again as we wrestle, and he’s back to being my boy. It doesn’t matter that we’ve gotten older, and things have changed. We’re still best friends, and nothing—not even time or whatever he has going on with Will—can change that.

My boy finally manages to get free, and I crash to the grass laying on my back, my tongue lolling out of the side of my mouth.

He lies panting in the grass next to me a moment before he says, “I’m sorry about earlier, Brick. You were just trying to play.”

It’s all right, my boy. I turn my head and look at him. We’re still best friends?

He smiles and pats my head. “Best friends forever.”

Will comes over and pulls Faelyn to his feet. With a serious voice he says, “We can’t keep doing this, Faelyn. You have to tell your father about us.”

The joy on my boy’s face lessens, but he’s not sad. The air smells more like worry.

“I know.”

“He’ll understand,” Will promises.

“But what if he doesn’t? It’s different when you’re a prince.” My boy picks up his discarded bow and picks some stray blades of grass from it. “And what about the Runecleavers? I’m promised to one of them.”

“It will all work out, Faelyn.” Will wraps his arm around Faelyn’s. “Do you want me to come with you?”

Faelyn sighs and looks down at me. I wag my tail, hoping it’s the reassuring gesture he’s looking for.

“No,” says my boy after a minute. “It might be easier for him if it’s just me. And if things don’t go well, I can always come find you.”

Will nods. They hug and kiss goodbye and then my boy gets back on Toffee, and we head for home.

Later that night, I lay on the rug in my boy’s room while he has a long, quiet talk with his father in the next room.

The king hugs my boy after, squeezing him tight. “If he makes you happy, then he’s welcome here, Faelyn. That’s all that matters to me. Will’s a good man. I’m glad you found someone worthy of your heart.”

There are more words, more hugs, and some tears, but when the elf king gets up to leave, my boy is smiling again, and it’s good to see. I’d trade all the ducks and fish and rabbits in the world to see him smiling.

I lift my head and wag my tail as the king comes past.

He stops to give me a few pets. “Take care of him, boy. He still needs you.”

I do my best! I say, but it comes out to him as a quiet, “Ruff!”

When the king is gone, and the lights are out, my boy pats an empty space on the bed and invites me up. It’s been a long time since he let me sleep in the bed with him, but we cuddle up that night, and when he’s fast asleep, I crawl down to my spot at the end of the bed to keep watch. I may be old, and my joints may be sore. I can’t run and play like I used to, but I can still sleep with one eye open, and protect my best friend while he sleeps.

I make a vow that night. Wherever I am, that will be his safe place. Whether it’s on the road, at the lake, or around the castle, I am my boy’s safe place, and that will always be true.

Author Bio

Eliza Eveland (she/they) is a coffee addict living in woods of West Virginia where fairies are real, and magic grows on trees like vines.

Eliza writes real, relatable characters in fantastic worlds that just happen to have wings or pointed ears and a little bit of magic.

Author website: https://elizaeveland.com/

Facebook Group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/616062436341571

TikTok: https://www.tiktok.com/@elizaeveland

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