Chapter 10

Chapter

Ten

M arieke gasped, her mind whirling with confusion as she tried to make sense of what she was seeing. Who were these creatures? What were they? They were human in shape, but they weren't like any humans she'd ever seen. Their skin was unnaturally pale, and although the three of them were clearly adults, they only came up to Zev's midriff—or at least they had, before they'd sent both Zev and her toppling to the ground with some kind of immobilizing magic.

Magic that made no sense, because it had clearly emanated from the middle one of the trio of strangers, but he hadn't even opened his mouth, let alone sung anything.

Marieke lay prone, unable to move thanks to the magic. It was only as Zev let out a roar that it occurred to her that she might be able to speak.

"Wait!" she cried, relieved to hear her own voice.

The member of the miniature trio who was striding forward ignored her. He bent over Zev, his startlingly green eyes glittering as he flourished a small blade.

"This one has murder in his eyes," he commented, his high voice dispassionate. "I'll probably be best to kill him first. "

"Don't draw it out," complained one of the others. "We're not human barbarians—don't take pleasure in violence."

"I don't take pleasure in it," the first one said matter-of-factly. "But someone has to do it, and I guess that someone is me."

"Please, listen to me!" Marieke cried desperately, over the top of Zev's growl of anger.

Fear clutched at her when none of them responded. On instinct, she felt for the magic in the ground below, trying to draw it toward her. As always, the magic of the canyon was pure chaos, and she couldn't grasp much. Not that it would help her if she could, given she didn't have her singing voice. She'd tried a defensive song when the strangers approached, and no sound had come out. But she could still feel the magic responding to her reaching. Even if it wasn't pooling around her like she intended, it was definitely moving.

"Whoa. Hold."

The one with the blade raised above Zev paused at his companion's words, looking irked at the interruption but obeying at once. "What is it?"

The stranger who'd spoken, the one called Rissin from whom the immobilizing magic had come, stepped forward.

"Look at that. Look what the magic is doing."

Confused, Marieke followed his gaze to see a cylindrical tool in his hand. It was long and thin, more than twice the size of the small man's whole hand. It was made of some kind of silver metal, save for a strip of gleaming gold running its length.

The stranger raised his head and fixed his eyes—the same emerald green as his fellow's—on Zev. The movement caused his long, straight hair to fall such that the tips of his ears protruded.

Tips that were tapered and wobbling slightly .

Marieke was so busy staring at them, she almost missed what everyone else was looking at. It was Zev's tense voice that reminded her that the stranger had pointed the object ominously toward Zev.

"What is that? What are you doing?"

Marieke gasped. The ground all around Zev was glowing brightly in the dim shadows of the canyon. The light pulsed and shifted, like a fitful gust of wind blowing the long grass on the hill near her home.

"How curious," said Rissin, his alabaster brow furrowed. He ignored Zev's questions completely. "Even for the canyon, this is unusual." His eyes shifted slowly to Marieke, the brightness of their green almost dazzling. "You are an interesting pair. You're the one who made the magic move, aren't you? I saw you open your mouth. When you tried to call out before and no sound came, you were trying to sing, weren't you?"

"A singer, you think?" One of the others cut in before Marieke had decided whether to answer. "A singer whose voice has been taken by the canyon?"

"But the magic still responded to her somewhat," Rissin commented. He sighed. "It would be fascinating to keep her alive long enough to conduct some experiments. It's a rare chance to see a singer interact with the magic of the canyon."

"Stay away from her." Zev's voice was a growl that had begun as soon as Rissin said the word experiment. Marieke found herself in agreement, glaring her displeasure at the cold-hearted strangers.

"They've seen us, Rissin," the one with the blade said. "If they're not with the monarchists, they can't be allowed to live."

"I know." Rissin sighed again. "But it is a pity."

"I want to speak to Svetlana!" Marieke said quickly, as the armed stranger lifted his blade again .

To her satisfaction, all three of them paused, matching alabaster brows crinkling.

"So you are with the monarchists?"

"They're not monarchists," another said with a scoff. "Did you see their shock when they saw us? They've never seen elves before. And look at their clothes."

Elves? Marieke had no idea what he was talking about there, but she understood the clothes comment. All the monarchists she'd seen last time had been dressed fully in gray to camouflage with the rock around them.

"I'm known to Svetlana," Marieke said as confidently as she could manage. "And I came here to see her."

"Hm." Rissin considered her. "That changes things. We don't want to upset our human collaborators by killing their friends. That would make our lives unnecessarily harder."

The one with the blade didn't seem convinced, and Marieke didn't blame him. He could probably see the same gleam in Rissin's eyes that she could. She strongly suspected he cared less about offending the monarchists than about retaining the possibility to study her and Zev and the magic of the canyon.

But if it prolonged their lives, she'd take it.

"Will you take us to Svetlana and her people?" Marieke pressed boldly.

"In exchange for what?" Rissin asked, his eyes still gleaming in that discomfiting way.

"Hold on," Zev cut in before Marieke could answer. "Did you say you're elves?"

"No." Rissin turned thoughtful eyes on Zev. "I don't believe we did say that."

"It was said by implication." Zev's voice was hard, his figure unnaturally stiff where he lay on the ground. His eyes flitted to Marieke. "Be careful what you say. According to the legends, elves have magic of their own around them, and words have a force they don't have among humans. They're cold and calculating, and you can bind yourself to a bargain without meaning to."

"You knew about these…elves?" Marieke's voice was a squeak.

"I've heard stories about them," Zev told her. "Bedtime stories. I had no idea they were actually real."

"Real as this sword," said the elf who had earlier been ready to knife Zev. He was examining Zev's blade on the ground nearby. Marieke half expected him to take issue with being called cold and calculating, but it didn't seem to have troubled him. He turned back to his companions. "All right, Rissin, time to make a decision before the freezing enchantment wears off."

"We'll take them to Svetlana." Rissin looked faintly disappointed that he'd failed to get the promise of an exchange from Marieke, but apparently not disappointed enough to order her death. "If she can't access her songcraft, I see no great threat." He nodded at Zev's blade. "But we can't have him armed. Destroy that."

Zev gave a cry of outrage as the elf turned toward his sword. Marieke felt the first tingles of movement returning to her fingertips, but if the magic was lifting from Zev as well, it wasn't doing so quickly enough to save his weapon. The diminutive creature pulled out a round metal disc and placed it on the blade of the sword. Marieke felt a surge of magic, and before her eyes the sharp metal of Zev's weapon turned to dust.

"Hey!" Zev surged clumsily to his feet just as Marieke flexed her sore arms as well. He stumbled once before gaining his balance and snatching the sword hilt from the ground. "What gives you the right?!"

"The fact that I have the magic and you don't." The elf shrugged, untroubled by Zev's fury.

Marieke hurried forward, laying a calming hand on Zev's arm before he could do something that would ignite the volatile situation.

"Easy Zev," she said softly.

He met her eyes, the mutiny in his gaze ebbing as he searched her face. "Are you all right?"

She nodded, seeing a reflection of her own relief at their narrow escape. "You?"

"Of course."

Marieke wasn't convinced, but she let it drop as Rissin strode toward them. She and Zev stared down at the elf, whose confidence clearly wasn't suffering from the fact that he was half their height.

"We'll take you to Svetlana, but it's too much hassle to move through the canyon with your feet bound. Just know that if you run away, we will kill you."

Marieke saw Zev's eyes narrow, and she cut in again before he could express his opinion of that offer.

"We risked our lives to climb down into the canyon specifically to see Svetlana and the others," she pointed out. "If you're taking us where we want to go, we have no reason to run away."

"So you claim," the armed elf said. "But I'd never trust a human's word. Not unless the human is bound by the magic of a bargain he or she can't control. Otherwise they'll always try to wriggle out of what they say."

"Unlike elves," Zev said in a tone of cold and unconvincing politeness. "Whom all the legends say were trustworthy and transparent, never known for being unscrupulous."

Rissin chuckled. "And here I thought our reputation had been lost. It's nice to know our good name remains known in some corner of the so-called Sovereign Realms." He gestured imperiously toward them. "Now put your hands behind your backs so we can bind them. "

"I'd rather not," Zev said flatly.

"Then we'll end it here." Rissin showed no particular emotion with the words, although it was clear to all present that by it he meant their lives. "I won't take you anywhere unbound."

"Come on, Zev," Marieke murmured. "Live today to fight tomorrow."

Zev stared at her, something strange in his expression that she couldn't read. It was a common enough saying. He must know what she meant.

After a prolonged moment, Zev sighed, putting his hands behind his back. Marieke could see that it went against his every instinct, and could only be relieved that he wasn't letting his pride get in the way of good sense.

"Elves have excellent hearing," Rissin commented as he stowed his cylindrical instrument into a pack at his side. "Trying to fight us tomorrow will get you killed just as surely as trying to fight us today would have."

Marieke ignored him, instead moving close to Zev and giving his arm another quick squeeze before she put her own hands behind her back.

"I'm sorry about your sword," she told him.

Zev was glaring at the armed elf, who was now chatting with Rissin and ignoring the humans completely.

"It was my favorite weapon," he muttered, still clearly irked.

In spite of the gravity of their situation, Marieke felt her mouth twitch. She quelled the reaction quickly, before Zev's eyes fell back to her face.

"We're no happier about it than you are," commented the elf now tying up Zev's hands with a length of rope he'd produced from who knew where. "That's two powerful talismans we've wasted thanks to you being where you shouldn't be."

"Talismans?" Marieke stared at him, her mind reeling at this mention of items in which magic could be stored for later use. The artifacts were incredibly rare. "You have talismans?"

"You've just seen us use them." The elf's voice was pitying. "Humans truly are dense. Of course we have talismans. Our craftsmanship is the best quality you'll ever encounter," he added proudly.

"Craftsmanship…" Marieke trailed off. "But no one remembers how to craft talismans. That knowledge was lost."

"Lost, was it?" the elf said dryly. "Along with the knowledge of the fact that humans share this continent with real, living elves?"

"Are you telling me that elves were always the ones who crafted talismans?" Marieke asked. She glanced at Zev to see what he made of this new development. He seemed as thrown as she was.

"I'm not telling you anything," the elf said in the contrary way she was fast coming to associate with the miniature species. "I'm talking, and you're drawing your own conclusions." He tugged at the rope around Zev's wrists, studying his own knot with a critical eye.

"I can't make sense of this," Marieke said, raising one of her still-unbound hands to her forehead. "I've never read any record about elves being the ones who made talismans. I've never read any record about elves at all!"

"No, you wouldn't have, would you?" the elf quipped. "Any more than you've read records about the slaughter of the monarchs."

Marieke started, her palms beginning to sweat at this bald statement of the truth Zev had hinted at but never said so plainly. Any doubt she'd retained about what really happened during the singers' coup melted away.

"That's the way it always goes when it comes to conflicts, isn't it?" the elf went on as he nonchalantly tied her wrists so tightly her hands began to feel numb. "Whoever wins the conflict gets to write the records—or not write them, as their preference may be. If winning the conflict wins them enough power, they can even get rid of other records they don't especially like."

"So…you had conflict with the singers?" Zev asked. He was studying the elf carefully, his stance back to its usual calm confidence in spite of the bound hands.

The elf gave a snort. "Conflict is a nice way to put it. They tried to wipe us out altogether. Why do you think we're skulking down here?"

"We're not skulking," Rissin cut in reproachfully, strolling up to the group.

The first elf just shrugged.

"What happened between your kind and the singers?" Zev asked, directing the question to Rissin.

The elf considered him steadily, his eyes glittering. "What will you give me in exchange for the information?"

"In asking, I promise nothing, only inquire," Zev said carefully. "What do you seek?"

"I wish to know first, whether you know why the magic pooled around you, and second, the reason it did so," Rissin countered much too quickly and smoothly.

Marieke expected Zev to disclaim any knowledge of the reason, but he just looked back at the elf in uncommunicative silence. Did he not want to engage in a discussion of magic, or did he actually know something he wasn't sharing?

As always, she wished she could read what was in his mind.

The silence stretched out long enough for Rissin to give up. But Marieke could see the calculating way he assessed Zev as he turned away.

"I wish to reach Svetlana's group before dark," he said to the other elves. "Let's go."

The elves set off, Marieke and Zev following behind. To her relief, they weren't blindfolded like she had been last time, and their packs weren't taken from them. She wished she could retrieve her cloak. Judging by the color of the strip of sky visible to them, the sun hadn't set yet in the world above the gorge. But down at the base of Sundering Canyon, the light was low, and night's chill was already seeping through her light clothes.

They walked for half an hour before the elves turned suddenly sideways, stepping between two offset boulders and onto a staircase that had been hidden from view until they were right upon it.

"They still don't even know we're here. We would have come and gone without interruption if not for these two," sighed the elf with the blade.

But Rissin didn't seem bothered by the change in their plans. "It's good to check in with the humans every now and then. Wait here with the prisoners."

He ducked into an opening above them, leaving them standing for a full quarter of an hour. The light had become so low that Marieke could barely make out Zev's expression. They didn't attempt to speak, just waited in silence until Rissin reappeared, accompanied by a middle-aged woman with gray eyes and grizzled hair.

"Svetlana!" Marieke felt a surge of relief which she knew made no sense. Last time this woman had tried to imprison her. But it was just so reassuring to see a human after the unnerving discovery that another intelligent species existed within the canyon.

The older woman stared at her. "Do I know y—ah." Understanding came into her eyes, a spark of curiosity with it. "You're the one who fell from the bridge! You've got your voice back."

"Not every aspect of it," Rissin broke in. "She's a singer, but seems unable to sing down here."

Svetlana's eyes sharpened, and she looked Marieke over again. She made no comment, however, merely beckoning the group in. "We can discuss this further inside." Her eyes flicked to Zev. "Who's he?"

"My name is Zevadiah." Zev spoke with dignity, but Marieke caught his rueful look—bordering on humorous—in response to the dismissive way Svetlana noticed him.

"I suppose you'd best come in, too," the middle-aged woman said.

Hands still bound, Marieke and Zev followed her and the elves through a tunnel network that eventually led them to a furnished cave. It was much nicer than the cave Marieke had been taken into the previous time. Wooden doors had been built over the various entrances to keep out drafts, and the space was lit by lanterns. Clattering from behind the far door suggested that it might be a cooking area, a realization that made Marieke's stomach grumble. She and Zev had found only minimal opportunity to safely stop and eat on their precarious descent into the canyon.

A glance around the main room revealed several other people clad in the same nondescript gray as Svetlana. One stood by each doorway, and the others hovered not far behind Svetlana, saying nothing but watching the new arrivals closely. Svetlana gave them a subtle nod as she passed, before gesturing toward a number of chairs.

"Sit."

It was more of a command than a sign of hospitality, but Marieke sank gladly into a chair regardless. It was a relief to be off her feet. Two of the elves remained standing, but Rissin approached a chair, putting his hands lightly on the seat and then vaulting himself up onto it. Marieke had to fight a sudden and slightly hysterical giggle at the way his legs dangled above the ground. Like a child at the adults' table.

"What's your name, child?" Svetlana asked her.

"Marieke," she said.

"Is it true you're a singer?"

Seeing nothing to be gained from denying it, Marieke nodded.

To her surprise, Svetlana didn't respond with anger or contempt, instead letting out a sigh. "So that's why Gorgon attacked you on sight, is it?"

"Yes." Marieke didn't expand. Brief answers were probably safest.

"Why did you come to our canyon? Last time, I mean?"

"I didn't come here on purpose," Marieke said. "I really did fall from the bridge. I was lucky to survive." She could feel Zev's tension beside her as his eyes moved between the two speakers.

"I see." Svetlana interlaced her fingers as she studied Marieke's face. "And how did you escape? You did well to find your way through the tunnel network."

"I didn't find my own way," Marieke told her. "Gorgon helped me find a way out."

"Gorgon helped—?"

"Right before he attempted to help me off the edge of a cliff," Marieke added, cutting over the top of Svetlana's astonished words.

"Ah." Svetlana paused. "That makes more sense. I'm afraid he always was hotheaded."

Marieke frowned, finding these dismissive words entirely unsatisfactory.

"I only escaped with my life thanks to my own resourcefulness and Zev's timely help. Otherwise Gorgon would have succeeded in murdering me. And that wasn't the last time. On two more occasions he tried to kill me."

"Yes, I'm aware that he followed you to the surface with his vendetta," Svetlana said heavily. "The whole situation was regrettable, to say the least. If he was here, I would certainly give him an earful."

"Well, you can't, because he's dead," Marieke said bluntly.

"I know that, child." Svetlana's voice was somber, but she didn't seem overly distressed. "I have my sources of information in your capital. In both of your capitals."

Zev's brow crinkled as her eyes turned to him. "How do you know I'm Aeltan?"

"How could I fail to see it?" Svetlana asked. She waved a hand at him. "Your dress, your demeanor, the lilt of your voice. We might choose to live down here, but we know plenty about the world on the surface." Her attention went back to Marieke. "I never received a satisfactory report about Gorgon's death. The details seem to have been suppressed. Was it you who killed him?"

"No, it was me," Zev cut in before Marieke could respond. "I intervened to prevent him from killing Marieke. I do not regret it. But should his family wish to call me to account, I will certainly face them."

Marieke made a small noise of protest, which Svetlana ignored. The older woman was looking at Zev with the first sign of respect she'd given him.

"That will not be necessary. As it happens, Gorgon had no family. I suspect that's why he sought to create his little group of followers." She sighed again. "We all seek belonging, I suppose. In any event, I consider Gorgon responsible for his own death. He did not act with the sanction of our community."

"So you claim." Zev's voice was cold .

"Well then, Svetlana." Rissin was growing bored with the conversation. "If you're satisfied that they're not spies, we'll be on our way. I wish to take this pair with us, and I propose that—"

"No." There was no compromise in Zev's tone, but Svetlana flapped a hand impatiently at him.

"He wasn't asking your opinion, Zevadiah. And Rissin, settle down. You're not taking them anywhere, and I'm not satisfied of anything. How should I know whether they're spies?"

"She asked for you by name to avoid us eliminating her, and you clearly recognize her. Are you saying you're not willing to speak for her?"

Marieke scowled at the elf. Eliminating? It was a very bloodless way to refer to the murder he and his fellows had almost carried out. But Zev had said they were cold and calculating, according to the legends.

The thought made her frown again, this time in contemplation rather than annoyance. She looked from Rissin to Svetlana. The elves had seemed calculating in the way they'd spoken with Marieke and Zev earlier. Their manner with Svetlana was different. Was it just because the two groups clearly had some kind of uneasy alliance?

"If you want to take us as your prisoners out of Svetlana's territory, why don't you bargain for it?" Marieke interrupted the conversation between the elf and the monarchist, watching the little creature's face for a response.

But it was Svetlana who snorted in reply. "Bargain for it? Down here? What would be the point?"

"What do you mean?" Zev asked sharply.

Svetlana passed a look of indulgence over the two of them. "Did they pull you in with threats about magically binding bargains? If so, it was a hoax. "

"Elf bargains aren't real?" Marieke asked, feeling foolish. She and Zev had taken it so seriously when Rissin tried to bargain with them for information.

"Oh, they're real enough," Svetlana said. "I've dealt with elves up on the surface before—maddeningly slippery they are to communicate with. Down here they're not so insufferable, though. They have to adapt to the environment, and they've learned that the magic of the canyon isn't predictable like it is on the land above. It's wild magic down here, pure magic. It responds to no law, not even the laws of elf bargains."

Rissin leaned back in his chair throughout this explanation, his expression smug and his gaze on Zev. Marieke saw that the Aeltan was watching the little elf with narrowed eyes, clearly irked at having been taken in.

"I see you feel no shame in your lies being exposed," Zev commented.

Rissin was unfazed. "You see that, do you? Such human folly, to imagine that you can see what we feel or do not feel. And to what lies do you refer? We weren't the ones who mentioned the bargain magic," Rissin reminded him with an unrepentant shrug. "That was you. Why would we correct you when your error was in our interests?"

Zev shifted, clearly ready to retort, but Marieke spoke over him.

"I didn't risk my life coming down here to bicker with mythical creatures," she said shortly. After the exertions of the day, her hunger was becoming more insistent, and it was making her irritable. "I'm not interested in an argument about whether lies of omission count as dishonesty."

Zev fell silent, more chastened by her words than she'd expected.

"What did you come down here for, then?" Svetlana asked, regarding Marieke with interest. "And why did you ask for me by name?"

"To be frank, Rissin is right," Marieke said. "I used your name in hopes it would make him hesitate to eliminate me, as he so gracefully put it. But I really did come down here looking for you." She would have waved her hand if it was free, but it was still bound, so she had to settle for making a sweeping motion with her chin. "All of you, I mean. Your whole settlement. I came because I want answers that I don't think I'll find back in Ondford."

"Do you?" Svetlana raised an eyebrow, her reaction difficult to read. "Answers to what questions?"

"Well, the elves are one question," Marieke said, her eyes sliding to Rissin. She still couldn't fully believe that the little creatures were real. "Since you obviously knew about them."

"Naturally." Svetlana was very much at her ease. "We've been doing business with the elves for a long time. But that wasn't really a question."

"Is it true that the singers who orchestrated the coup tried to wipe out the elves?" Marieke blurted out.

"Of course it's true," Rissin said, his affronted tone unconvincing. "Do you accuse us of lying?"

"Spare your mock outrage," Zev said, eyeing him. He was clearly still put out about having nearly been swindled by the elves.

Svetlana ignored all this, her gaze fixed on Marieke. "Do you think it's true, singer Marieke?"

"I don't know what to think," Marieke said frankly. "About a lot of things."

Svetlana nodded thoughtfully, studying Marieke's face for another moment before she spoke. "That's something, at least." Her eyes passed to Zev. "What about you, young man? What do you think? "

Zev let out a sigh, shifting position slightly. He somehow managed to look calm and commanding in spite of being seated with his hands bound behind his back.

"I doubt the elves are lying about it," he said. He turned his head to Marieke, addressing his next words to her. "The very fact that you'd never heard of elves—that I thought them only a story—supports it as well. The first council probably thought they'd succeeded, or they would have tried to paint the elves as evil instead of pretending they didn't exist."

"Like they did with the monarchs," Svetlana said, nodding. She looked quite impressed. "Well articulated, young man. I agree that they likely thought they'd managed to kill all the elves—they wanted the elves to disappear, so that's what they made them do. Once they took power, the singers would be able to get rid of official records of elves. From all I know, they were always inclined to be reclusive when it came to humans, and even back then, most people would never have seen an elf. It would only take a few generations for any surviving stories to devolve into legends and bedtime stories, like the ones you've apparently heard."

Marieke digested this for a moment before responding.

"What do you mean, like they did with the monarchs?" she asked eventually, looking at Svetlana.

But it wasn't the woman who answered. One of Rissin's companions chuckled.

"She means that the singers might have been able to wipe us out of the records, but they could hardly wipe out the monarchs."

Rissin made a noise of disdain. "They wouldn't wish to. No doubt it served their purposes well to keep every record of the old royals' frailties and vices."

"True enough records," the other elf pointed out, and Rissin nodded .

"Indeed." His voice carried the same disdain he'd just shown for the singers.

"So…" Marieke gave her head a little shake, confused. "So the elves didn't support the royals?"

"The pickaxe hung from quite the other belt," said Rissin, again sounding faintly affronted.

"What?" Marieke just stared at him.

"Elf saying," Svetlana interjected. "It means it was the other way around."

"The royals supported the elves?" Zev sounded skeptical.

Rissin's eyes glittered. "The royals…and their courts. They supported our kind financially."

The other elf's eyes had glazed over. "How rich our ancestors were," he said wistfully. "With so many humans willing to spend their ill-gotten wealth on our talismans."

Svetlana sent a swift scowl at the elves. "You're hardly in a position to criticize the monarchs of old. Had your people chosen to do so, they could have defended the royals against the singers' attacks. Some people might argue your kind have blood on their hands as much as singers do."

"Then those people would be imbeciles," said Rissin without heat. "But happily, their opinion would not interest me in the slightest." He stood, the movement unexpected since he pushed himself to his feet right there on the chair, standing for a moment before lightly leaping down to the ground. "If you're determined to keep these two prisoners overnight, we'll leave you to it. We won't return to our ship now, though. We'll camp in the canyon, and if you try to slip them past us, you will regret it."

"Your threats leave me terrified," Svetlana said, the sarcasm light enough not to provoke a reaction from Rissin.

The three elves pattered out of the cave, back the way they'd come.