The Burning Sword by Emily Williams Read Free Book Online

thump.
     
    For a moment, Faith was too surprised to move, but as she darted forward to help him, Eli lifted his head, and shot her a glare so full of animosity that she dared not touch him, and recoiled.
     
    She looked away pointedly as he struggled to get to his feet, unable to watch his clumsy attempt to get up; she wanted him to see that she did not glorify in his shame, however much she hated him.
     
    The scuffling which signified his feeble attempts stopped, and Eli gave a small cough. Hoping it was safe, Faith looked up. He was stood up, still ghost- pale, and decidedly not looking at her. Feeling guilty for having witnessed just how awkward and inept his struggles to get up had been, Faith followed his lead and carried on walking through the tunnel in silence.
     
    The events had suitably chastened her, and she felt her anger subside and simmer down. She looked down at her hand, gripped around the hilt of the sword so tight that her knuckles were white. She hadn’t realized just how hard she had been holding it, and loosened her hand. Glancing up, she saw that Eli looked a lot calmer too, and bit her lip, wondering if now would be a good time to mention the sword again.
     
    “Eli?” she asked tentatively, and was disappointed at just how nervous and timid her voice sounded. She cleared her throat. “Eli?” Much more composed.
     
    He looked at her, though he didn’t meet her eyes. “What?”
     
    “Look,” she began, and paused as she sorted through her thoughts for the right words; she didn’t want to mumble the wrong thing now. “Look. Eli, I know you don’t like me, and that’s fair enough, I can’t say I like you either. But the thing is, our entire village is looking after you, and it just seems that telling me what you know about the sword doesn’t seem much to ask.”
     
    Eli still didn’t look at her.
     
    She carried on, in the sort of cool, soothing voice that she had heard countless mothers use with tantrum throwing toddlers. “It can’t hurt, can it?”
     
    Eli snorted. “It’s not that it would “hurt”,” he said, “it’s that I don’t want to.”
     
    Faith could think of no response to that. It seemed that nothing could possibly persuade him to tell her the story, except perhaps if she kept her mouth shut, for once, and just let him think.
     
    They continued walking. Eli looked as if he was thinking deeply. “You’re very determined, aren’t you?” Faith gathered that this was rhetorical question but was certain from Eli’s expression that it was certainly no compliment. He met her eyes at last, and sighed.
     
    “Okay, alright, I’ll tell you.” Faith almost dropped the sword in surprise, and looked at him in bewilderment. He frowned. “But remember, this doesn’t mean I like you.”
     
    “Or vice versa,” put in Faith quickly. Eli’s mouth twitched, as if he was about to smile, but he turned away, and looked ahead. They had reached the entrance of the cave, and stood there for a few moments as the crisp, sweet air swept over them through the dangling ivy. Holding some aside, Faith stepped through, and as the sunlight streamed painfully into her eyes, she felt the sword adjust itself, and then settle in her palm, as if it preferred being out in the fresh air, just like she did.
    Eli was already climbing up the rock face, his leg seeming to hinder him majorly. Faith wondered how he coped with it. She followed, expecting the sword to get in the way, but she barely noticed it was there, and clambered up with only one hand.
     
    Hoisting herself onto the solid ground at the top, she saw that Eli had settled himself in the grass, massaging his leg gently. She joined him, lying the sword gently down in front of them. It seemed to draw both of their eyes, as if it was capable of hypnotism. It was mesmerizing, and Faith felt attached to it already.
     
    Eli stopped massaging his leg, and sat forward a little, to be closer to the sword. Stretching out a finger, he