30. Twenty-Seven

We picked our way through a nearly overgrown path for most of the night. It grew narrower and steeper with every step, yet the further we went, the more Ruith seemed to relax. The risk of laming the horses in the dark was much higher, so we'd adopted a lazy walking pace. The slower ride provided opportunities to take in the countryside, which smelled less of pigs and manure and more like sap and berries. It would've been a fine pace for conversation, if I were capable and Ruith was so inclined.

Instead, we rode on in silence. I couldn't decide if it was a tense silence, or a pleasant one.

We passed a tree growing out of an outcropping of rock. In place of leaves, the tree had sprouted skulls. Human, animal, elf… Whomever had placed them there didn't seem to discriminate. All of them were stripped bare and bleached white, branches through empty eye sockets and white jawbones smiling.

Our pace slowed even more once we passed it. The air felt heavier in the wooded valley that waited beyond. When I turned my head to look up at the ridge, a chill ran through me. Standing there was a creature with the body of a man and the head of a stag.

"Don't stare," Ruith whispered. "They don't like it when you stare."

I swallowed and turned my attention forward. Riding on, I felt the weight of more eyes up in the hills. A cursory glance revealed more twisted shapes crawling out between naked branches, all of them human but for their beastly skull faces. Glowing eyes peered at us from every shadow, and more than once I heard a wolf howl, and another answer further ahead.

We came to the end of the first valley and the trail dipped into a deeper path between two rocks, hidden by mist.

Staring straight ahead, Ruith said, "When they descend, do not fight them. Do not look at them. You must ride on as if they aren't there. If you show even a tremble of fear, you will not survive. Nod that you understand." He turned his head slightly to catch my nod before looking forward again. "Courage, Elindir. It's nearly over now."

We rode into the thick mist, my heart in my throat. He'd advised to show no fear, but that was before I heard the scuttling of bones, the terrifying hisses in the dark. Hands reached out of the mist, white painted, claw tipped. I wasn't sure when it began, but there were creatures moving alongside us. Every so often, one of them would come out of the mist enough that I could spot a leg, a snout, a long shaggy body with antlers on the head. It was like riding through a valley of nightmares, except we were wide awake.

Sweat dampened the back of my neck even as chilly breath breathed upon me. Whatever this place was, it was unnatural. Perhaps we had ridden down into the underworld. I expected the Thief or the Reaper to appear on either side of the path at any time.

It felt like we rode all night, long enough to find morning, but there was no light in that valley. There was only death, and the hellbeasts escorting us to her.

At long last, we came to a great stone gate that stretched high and wide like a dam. The bones of every bird in the sky and every creature on the land stood vigil in the stone. I recognized the beak of an eagle, the massive ribcage of a giant fish. There were tusked skulls from the time before men, and the smiling skulls of elves and humans alike. Before the bone gate, the beasts in their wild shapes departed, following the mist into nothing.

We waited in front of the gates in silence. For what, I could not say, but Ruith seemed to know.

"I seek an audience with the Empress of Bones!" Ruith shouted at the gate, at the silence.

Foul wind swept through the valley, as if death itself had exhaled on us. From the gate, a voice belonging to a face unseen. "On whose authority do you come?"

"My own."

The horses shifted, uneasy.

"I am Ruith Starfall, rightful king of the elves."

A stronger wind howled, threatening to blow us over.

"The king is dead. His body burned on a pyre. His head gazes upon the stars in the gallery," replied the voice.

Ruith sat, straight-backed in his saddle, as if the wind were not roaring all around him, as if the mist were not pouring back in to swallow us up. "I am his heir, the son of Queen Siriyama, daughter of Belios, the last king of the elves. I come seeking an audience! Deny me at your peril."

Thunder roared and lightning flashed above us, the mist swirling in the sky.

"Where is your purple cloak?" inquired the unseen voice. "Your anointment of blood? The ring of office is absent yet on your finger, pretender king."

"Trinkets," Ruith spat. "I am your king. Test me, and you will find it true."

The wind rose to a roar, and the mist swirled around us like a great tunnel. It pulled on his braids, snapped like teeth at his neck, dragged claws over his cheek. All the while he sat still and unbothered, as if he were in the bath and not being assaulted by some magic death mist.

Then, just as quickly as it had descended, the mist retreated, leaving only the silent night. A single bloody scratch over Ruith's brow was all that remained to suggest it had ever been there in the first place.

Breath held, we waited in the quiet.

I flinched when the gates creaked open and frowned when a woman walked through. She was clad only in a fur that wrapped around her waist, but for the white paint she wore all over. On her head was the skull of a wolf, the jaws pried open. On either side of her were larger women clad in the skin of bears. They wore gloves tipped in claws and came bare-footed, bare chested, streaked with lines of crimson around their eyes and mouths.

"Do as I do," Ruith whispered and dismounted.

I went with him, standing beside him as he faced these strange people from behind the gate of bones.

When the wolf woman came close, I saw that she was old. Older than any woman I had ever met. She made a slight gesture and Ruith knelt, so I knelt too. The wolf woman swept her thumb across the arc of blood on Ruith's forehead and swiftly brought the bloody thumb to her mouth. She regarded him a moment, sucking on her thumb, then snorted and moved to me, repeating the same action. I hadn't even realized I was bleeding until her thumb came away red.

The wolf woman studied us, her thumb in her mouth, painted eyes moving back and forth between us. "Who is this one, so touched by destiny?"

"His name is Elindir of Os—" He halted and glanced at me briefly. "He is Elindir."

"Elindir of nowhere? Of nothing?"

"He is my…" Ruith hesitated before rolling his shoulders back. "He is mine."

The woman eyed him, nostrils flaring. "Then you are a fool. The sun does not belong to the moon simply because he follows. Get up, fool."

Ruith rose slowly. I followed.

"Fool though you may be, I taste the blood of kings," said the wolf woman. "Be welcome in my home, Ruith, son of Siriyama, king of the elves. And you, Elindir of nowhere and nothing."

On the other side of the gate made of bone was a village. Awash in the light of dawn, it looked almost like any other village. There were squat little houses with thatched rooftops and beaten paths. Dogs barked and people moved about, doing things people did in every village. Beneath it all was something more chilling. A skull tucked into a corner there. A child with antlers tied to her head. A man with a necklace made of teeth. The people all wore painted faces and clothes made of fur or leather, if they wore clothes at all. Many didn't bother except with enough to protect them from the elements.

Curious people came out of their houses, falling in behind us as we walked toward a large, round structure at the center of the village. It was the only place made of stone, all the other buildings being made of hide or cloth. The structure seemed to be a series of arches and columns laid out in a particular pattern. It seemed deliberate, but I couldn't guess at the reasoning.

We came into the circle and halted halfway, the people filling the gaps around us.

The wolf woman sat on a curved stone atop a dais. "Why have you come, King Ruith?"

White painted faces looked at us, waiting.

"I have come to get your blessing, Empress of Bones," Ruith said.

She snorted. "You have an army camped a day from our border, come bearing none of the symbols of kingship, and demand a blessing on the eve of our holy day? I would be insulted if it were not so brazen. Speak truly. What is it you want?"

Ruith glanced at me, taking a step forward. "I have two requests to beg of you, exalted empress. Elindir was fitted with a collar against his will in his homeland. It is blood magic that none of my mages can undo without killing him."

My heart jumped. Surely, we hadn't braved all this on my account?

"You wish it removed?" the woman demanded.

He nodded once. "Without bringing harm to him, yes."

She stared at me, through me, until my blood chilled. "Name your second request."

Ruith took a deep breath. "My father sits on a stolen throne, from where he abuses his power. From the east to the west, north and south, there is no clan, no tribe that does not know the sting of his blade or the sound of his horn. He murders the innocent to hold his power and allows corruption to flourish."

"The Spine Tribes know of his treachery," replied the bone empress carefully. "He is the reason for our wall. The reason we no longer hunt freely in our ancestral lands."

"I would give you back those lands," Ruith promised.

"But they are not yours to give." The empress pressed her wrinkled fingers together. "Are they?"

"I come asking for warriors. Help me take back the lands that were stolen from you. Stand with me against him, and when we are victorious, I will give you everything east of the Spine from the Godsfel north. I will recognize your kingdom, as he has failed to do."

"That is not good enough," the empress said. "You expect me to send my finest warriors to your side when I have few to spare?" She leaned forward in her throne. "We are not so many that we can breed hundreds so easily. We need strong seed to make strong girls. This, you will agree to. You will bring me one hundred of your best warriors and they will lay with one hundred of mine ere the next eclipse. One hundred daughters. This is the price of an alliance with the empire of bones."

Ruith bowed his head slightly. "I find your terms acceptable."

"I am not finished." She swiped her hand through the air. "There is the matter of the collar to discuss. Since we must wait many months to be rewarded for our assistance to the elf king, you will pay us now for the collar." She gestured and one of the large bear women stepped forward. "This is my granddaughter, Iefa. Elindir of nowhere and nothing will—"

"No," Ruith said, daring to interrupt her.

Murmurs went around the courtyard in waves.

"Elindir is mine," Ruith announced loudly. "And any hand that touches him is forfeit. I have already given him this oath. I will not betray it."

A shudder of something went through me. Pride? Appreciation? Longing? It was hard to pin down exactly what I felt.

A heavy beat of silence passed. The sun crawled a little more over the horizon.

"What of your horses, then?" asked the empress eventually, and I breathed a sigh of relief.

My horse was slaughtered in a bloody ritual, the throat slit, and blood collected in vessels as it poured out. The intestines were pulled out, and an augury performed, declaring many strong daughters would come from the agreement reached that day.

Then they lit a pit of coals, stuffed the horse carcass with onions, garlic, and herbs, and buried it in the coals to be feasted upon later.

We were shown to a little round hut near the center of town and told the collar would be removed after the feast and to rest in the meantime.

I could scarcely believe it. Months of silence, of suffering without a voice, and all it cost me to be free of the damn thing was a horse and a journey through the valleys of hell itself.

The hut was so small, there was barely any room for us to move around in it, which was just as well, since I was exhausted. Still, I knelt and waited to be told what I should do.

Ruith sat on the small mat that would serve as a bed. It was much narrower than the one we had back at camp. "I suppose," he said, "you're wondering if I mean to put another collar on you once you are free of that one."

The thought had crossed my mind. All the slaves had been fitted with iron collars as a statement of their position. They could be spotted from afar easily and avoided or seized and ordered around. More than that, the collars were locked by magic so that they were impossible to remove. Any slave attempting to flee would find there was no safe place to hide unless they also hid their necks, and elven clothing conventions rarely accommodated such styles.

Still, an iron collar was preferable to the one that bit into my throat and stole my voice.

"Come," Ruith said and gestured me forward.

I hesitated only a second before going to kneel between his legs, gazing up at him expectantly.

He is mine. My property.

I never thought I would long to hear that again, but I found myself wishing he'd say it to me.

Ruith took my chin in his fingers, the touch unbearably gentle. "By now, you've heard my plan. I mean to march on the capital and unseat my father. I mean to be king. Even with the Spine Tribes, I won't have enough men. As much as I wish it were not so, bodies win wars. I need as many loyal men as I can get. That's why…" He trailed off, almost choking on the words.

I put my fingers gently over his wrist, right over his pulse, the same place he had touched me on the boat. I ached for more.

"I've been cruel to you," he said.

He had, and not just at the beginning. Rarely did a day go by when I was not reminded I was a slave, that I had no choice, no voice. Even once I got my voice back, I knew it would count for little.

But he had been kind too. He had trusted me with a sword, celebrated my victory, laughed with me, held me on the crossing. He had rubbed salve into my wounds, even when he was the cause. He'd used me at the beginning only to turn around and refuse me when I offered my body. Even this trip to get the collar removed was wrapped in some other goal that suited him. He did nothing for me without first thinking of himself.

And yet, he had become my first thought in the morning, and the last one at night. I had fought harder against the Runecleavers because I knew he expected it of me, believed in me. Because he was waiting for me to make him proud.

It was confusing, this need for his approval despite being nothing to him, and I didn't know what to do with any of it.

Why did I follow him when I had the chance to run? Why did I want him when all he'd done was hurt me?

Ruith's hand came to rest on top of my head, fingers combing through my hair the way a master affectionately pets his loyal hound. I leaned my head forward, letting my forehead rest against his shin. It was forbidden, this sort of touch between us. Even between elves, physical contact seemed frowned upon. I hadn't realized just how much I missed touch until he gave it to me. In that instant, I knew. I would cross oceans for him. I would fight armies. I would bleed and die and suffer for him.

How he had transformed me so completely, I didn't know. I knew only that I needed him in ways I had never needed another living soul before.

"I will have to put another collar on, Elindir. You understand that, don't you?"

I nodded and closed my eyes, leaning into his touch.

"What if…" His hand paused. "What if I promised to free you once Tarathiel was defeated?"

I lifted my head, staring at him wide eyed.

"You could go home. You could go anywhere. You'd be more than free. You'd be…" Ruith's fingers trailed softly along my jaw. "Serve me, Elindir. Stay by my side and when this is done, I will free you and give you whatever it is you want."

I thought of all the things I had ever wanted. Fame, men, glory and adoration. A seat at the king's table and his ear when I had counsel to give. That was all I had ever dared to dream of before. Simple dreams for a simpler man living in simpler times.

Now, there was only one thing I wanted, and it was the same thing I'd wanted the day we met at the city gates of Ostovan: My brother's head.