17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

Aliya

L ater that night, Aliya glanced around Malkov's throne room. Not again. The black marble chilled her bare feet. White wedding banners still hung from the deserted balconies overhead. She spun to face the dais.

He perched in the oversized obsidian chair, staring down at her.

"How is this happening?" Her voice sounded whiny. She didn't care.

"Magic," he said. "Think of it as scrying, but instead of opening a mirror channel to speak, I bring you here."

Would El come back home to find her missing?

"Oh, no. I wouldn't worry. As far as anyone in Filathas is concerned, you're in a deep sleep."

He was reading her mind. She pinched her bicep. Ouch .

Malkov laughed. It echoed through the empty chamber. "Oh, you're still here physically." He raised his fingers. Sparks danced up his forearm. "Magecraft can do some amazing things."

Her stomach trembled. Even if she studied with Cressida for decades, she'd be unlikely to develop that kind of control. "Why are you doing this? Let me go, please."

He leered at her.

A shiver ran up her arms as the hairs on the back of her neck prickled. She fought the urge to back up or run, a deer caught in the hunter's sights. No matter what she did, she wouldn't get far.

"You know I can't do that. Not only are you the most magically gifted person I've ever encountered, but I also can't allow the insult of my wife running away on our wedding day go unanswered. It would give the impression I'm weak and encourage others to take advantage."

Her heart thumped against her breastbone as her stomach iced over. This was it. Everything she'd done had been in vain.

He clicked his tongue. "I regret to inform you I've run out of your father's people to torture. And you're currently beyond the reach of my bounty."

Aliya tensed. Had he tortured everyone ? He wouldn't.

"So, I've sent a specialized team of assassins into Filathas. They'll kill until they find you and haul you back home."

She frowned to bite back a laugh. The elven forests would never allow a bunch of foreign hitmen into Filathas. They'd wander the woods until a patrol found the group and disposed of them.

Malkov shook his head. "They're already in place, thanks to a few magical protections my artificers have developed for them. I believe Lady Cressida is first on their list."

Her gut contracted in a violent spasm, threatening to upend her dinner right there on the throne room floor. No!

He sighed. "It's a shame. All her lovely magic, going to waste. Oh, well. Next up is the mountain elf, followed by the sun elf princess. Her death will lure her father out from behind his walls so we can pick him off, too. I'm rather disappointed I didn't think of sending hitmen before. We could have ended the war decades ago."

Aliya laughed, but it sounded brittle, even to her own ears. "You think your mercenaries can kill Cressida Brightleaf? I think you overestimate their ability." Cressida was one of the top two elven mages in the realm. Elessan had said so. Surely, she could stand up to a few human assassins.

Malkov's lips stretched into a thin cruel smile, showing his teeth. "I think you misjudge the elves. My team won't stop until they capture you, even if they have to bathe Filathas in blood."

He was so confident. Aliya glanced around the room as she chewed the inside of her cheek. She'd already misjudged Elessan once today, could she be making the same mistake with Cressida? No—Malkov must be lying.

He leaned back into the throne. "Why would I lie? Doing so erodes my credibility. And a monarch without that, well…they're no ruler at all, are they?" He tsked .

Valek. If he was serious, then everyone's deaths would be on her hands.

He gestured toward her as though brushing away something undesirable. "Best run along, now, before you're too late." He winked at her. The room blinked out of sight.

Aliya bolted upright, covered in a cold sweat, with her tunic and skirt tangled hopelessly around her. Her heart hammered against her ribs. Cressida! Elessan!

Malkov wouldn't tell her his plans unless he knew she would be too late, and he was just trying to draw her out. He wouldn't risk anything else.

But that didn't matter—her friends' lives were on the line. She jumped up and slid her feet into her shoes. Where could she find Lady Brightleaf? Aliya had no idea where the woman lived—they always met in the same spot every morning.

She ran outside. The sun hung low in the sky. A shape moved across the clearing, so she sprinted toward it.

"Lindir!"

The young archer startled and turned, his eyebrows raised. He reached out. "Aliya? Is everything alright?"

She paused, trying to catch her breath and calm her racing heart. She couldn't be too late. "Where's your aunt?"

"Cressida?" He tilted his head. "Why do you ask?"

She grabbed his arms and shook him. "This is important!"

"Okay. This time of day," he scanned the area, "sometimes she's in the Grove of Shadows, meditating."

Without bothering to thank him, she bolted toward the gardens.

"Wait," he called, running behind her. "What's going on?"

She glanced over her shoulder. "Assassins are coming. We need to warn her!"

He came up beside her, his long legs easily matching her speed. "What? How do you know?"

She didn't bother responding but doubled her pace as the white stone path pounded beneath her feet. Grunts and crashes echoed through the trees in front of them. A fireball launched into the sky, exploding overhead with a crackle.

"Someone's in the grove," Lindir said, pulling ahead. "Hurry!"

They burst from the forest. Five black-clad figures in white metallic breastplates surrounded Lady Cressida—humans judging by their rounded ears. The old elf held her magic around her like a bubble. Their weapons bounced off, ineffective.

"Both of you, get behind me now!" Cressida's command snapped Aliya to attention.

Lindir planted his feet, drew an arrow, and shot it at the closest adversary while Aliya positioned herself as ordered.

Aliya's stomach plunged to the ground. If only her power wasn't so unpredictable. Her fingers itched to call a fireball and fling it at the men, but there was no guarantee it would obey her in such a stressful situation. The fire may well cause more harm than good.

The sphere of Cressida's magic warped and expanded, surrounding Aliya.

"I've sent for help," Cress yelled as her shield repelled another volley of arrows. "We just need to hold them off long enough for reinforcements to arrive."

Of course. That must have been what the aerial flare was for.

Aliya shook her head. Her eyes burned with unshed tears. "I'm so sorry. This is all my fault."

Lady Brightleaf fixed her with a hard glare. "Unless you conspired to lead them here, this is not your doing. You cannot control the actions of a power-hungry king any more than I can manipulate the weather."

"But they're here because of me."

Cressida shot a ball of magic through her shield into the midst of the group of assassins. An explosion obscured the humans in smoke. "It doesn't matter that they found us or how they got through the forest, they won't leave Filathas alive."

One of the attackers charged Lindir, swinging at his neck with a sword. Aliya's heart froze.

"Lindir!" He should've listened to his aunt and gotten inside her protective bubble like she'd told him to.

He dropped prone, rotating his leg around to catch the other man's ankles.

The assassin jumped over the obstacle, stabbing downward.

The blade impacted bare dirt as Lindir somersaulted away. He leaped to his feet, dropping his bow and drawing two daggers Aliya hadn't noticed before. Parrying the invader's next lunge, he forced the sword up and away with his left hand while slicing at his opponent's gut with his right.

Another ball of Cressida's magic shook the ground as it blasted the assassins backward.

A familiar voice echoed across the clearing. "Spread out! Surround them."

Aliya blinked. The Arcane Inquisitor—Brooks was here!

The humans obeyed, flanking them. One of them caught Aliya's attention. He smirked and gave her a mocking wave as recognition slammed through her body.

Stephen—the fake bard.

Lady Brightleaf cursed under her breath and adjusted her stance so she stood back-to-back with Aliya. "Remember what I told you about not using too much power?"

She nodded. If her abilities acted up now, the consequences would be deadly.

"The shield will permit your magic to pass. Do what you need to." She glanced around the clearing. "Where are those reinforcements?"

She hadn't perfected her control and Cress wanted her to fight? The burden of her mentor's trust weighed on Aliya's shoulders.

Two of the intruders stepped back, sheathing their swords. Dropping to the ground, they pulled out what looked like a long black tube. Pulling a flint and steel, they sparked a string on the end of the stick and pointed it at Cressida.

Lady Brightleaf's voice cut through Aliya's thoughts. "Lindir! No!"

Aliya whirled around. The archer had both hands over his stomach. Red seeped from between his fingers as he collapsed to his knees and tumbled face-first into the dirt.

Above him, his opponent raised his sword, preparing a death blow.

"No!" Aliya grabbed a fistful of the kernel of light in her core and hurled it at the man standing over the fallen elf.

Her magic exploded against Cressida's shield, ripping it to shreds. The barrier flickered once and died.

From across the clearing, a bright flash and boom reminiscent of when she'd been struck by lightning threw Aliya to the ground.

"Augh!" Lady Brightleaf slammed her hands over her ears and turned her face away.

Thunder erupted from the cloudless sky, and a sulfurous-smelling cloud filled the area.

Aliya cried out as a small projectile buried itself in Cressida's chest.

With a grunt, the older woman staggered backward. A red stain spread over the left side of her torso.

Aliya's knees went weak. Oh, gods. She'd just shattered Cressida's shield, and now their best hope of survival was laying on the ground, bleeding out.

One of the humans stepped up to Cressida, readying his sword.

"No!" Aliya yanked on her magic, throwing it at him. A huge fireball exploded between them.

The attackers stumbled back.

"You," Brooks growled as his jewel flashed, leaving a crimson after-image burned into her vision. "You'll pay for that."

Two of them advanced on her.

Cressida groaned, and a flickering bubble of blue-tinted power enveloped her. "Aliya, defend yourself!"

Pulling a few more strands from the kernel of light within her, Aliya formed a round disc as she had in practice the other day. She blinked as her racing thoughts stuttered to a halt. If she could make a shield, she should be able to create a weapon, as well.

One of the humans swung at her, the vibrations from his blade ricocheted up her arm. Her shield's guard buckled and crumbled to the ground like ash.

Aliya pulled another strand of power, imagining a short sword weighted like Elessan's. An identical copy manifested in her other hand.

Well, here went nothing. She'd need to keep her elbows tight to her waist. Wrists loose. Weight on her toes. Just like Elessan had taught her.

She attacked the closest human. Her weapon bit deep into his side.

Aliya smiled as he cursed and stumbled back.

The other man raised his weapon and lunged for her. She lifted her blade to parry.

His broadsword cut through hers like paper.

What? How?

The assassin smirked, his white teeth sticking out from underneath his dark hood. "Your sorcery won't work on us, elf. Our weapons are infused with iron. And antimonite."

Aliya's jaw went slack. Valek.

Cressida's magic had withstood iron.

Such a thing wasn't supposed to be possible. And whatever antimonite was, it sounded even worse.

And she'd blasted through Cressida's defenses trying to protect Lindir. She'd killed them all. A wave of despair washed over her. Heat constricted her chest and seared her lungs. She blinked, forcing the tears from her eyes and the tightness from her throat. Now was not the time to give in to guilt.

Lady Brightleaf was still alive, and Lindir may live yet, too.

The younger elf still lay face-down. His arm twitched.

Aliya glanced around the clearing. "Where are those reinforcements?" she called in Elven, risking a peek at Cressida.

She didn't respond.

Reaching for her magic once more, Aliya flicked a ball of power at the closest human.

The fireball surrounded him. With a scream, he dropped his sword, slapping his chest and arms.

Jumping forward, Aliya grabbed his blade and shoved it into his gut. Freeing the steel, she sliced the side of his neck. Blood splashed across her face and torso. "Severed artery," she snarled. "You're dead by your own weapon."

The man tumbled to the ground. Ichor soaked into the grass with each beat of his heart.

Leaping to the one she'd wounded earlier, Aliya took her new sword in both hands, closed her eyes, and swung. She met the satisfying resistance of flesh and tore through.

The second assassin fell with a gurgle as red leeched from his throat.

Lady Brightleaf relaxed with a sigh. Her bubble of magic flickered and winked out.

No! Aliya's core turned to ice. "Cressida!"

"Death to the knife-ears!" Steven stepped forward and plunged his blade into Cressida's chest.

Lindir screamed.

Lady Brightleaf didn't react.

There was a thump and the snap of broken ribs, and the young archer's cry choked off. He lay on his side, blinking, clearly dazed. One of the men pressed a dagger under his jaw.

Aliya froze. Not Lindir, too. Elessan would be next…

"Stop!" Her voice echoed across the glade. She dropped her sword, and her elven disguise.

Her ears flowed back to their habitual shape, and her cheek bones shortened until she resembled the human Malkov would have sent them after. "I'm the one you're looking for. I'll go with you, if you don't kill anyone else."

Brooks flashed his canines at her in a cruel smile. Reaching behind his back, he unclipped something and held it out toward Aliya. "Put these on, or the elf dies."

"No!"

She ignored Lindir's protest as she stared at what the inquisitor grasped. White manacles the same color as their breastplates that clanked ominously. They looked heavy, undoubtedly infused with iron and whatever antimonite was. They'd block her magic, and probably her shifting, too.

She never thought to ask Cressida if her ability to shapeshift followed similar rules as regular magecraft, and now she was too late. A hot tear forced its way down her cheek.

Aliya glanced at Lindir. He pressed a hand to his side, over an enlarging dark spot. His round eyes stared at her. His jaw clenched as he met her gaze and subtly shook his head. An impossible weight settled against her shoulders, threatening to force her to her knees. She studied the ground, unable to meet his eyes.

Cressida was dead. They'd kill Lindir if she hesitated, for the sole crime of following her to the clearing.

How many other friends' deaths would she be responsible for?

Brooks rattled the handcuffs, impatient. "Well?"

Aliya swallowed and bit her lower lip. She would try to escape before they brought her back to Malkov.

If they killed Elessan… It would break her, if Cressida's death hadn't already.

Stephen hit Lindir in the back of the head with his sword pommel. The elf groaned, his muscles relaxed, and he lay still.

"Stop! Okay." She held her arms out.

Cold iron snapped around her wrists. Her kernel of magic dimmed, as though it had fallen into a body of water. She reached for the power anyway.

Nothing...

Aliya took a few deep breaths, struggling against the invisible compression bands squeezing her chest. Her vision blackened at the edges, constricting until only the grass at her feet was visible.

She'd known what the manacles were, and that this would happen. There was no reason to panic. She exhaled—everything would be alright. Her lungs heaved, fighting for air. If she got lucky, the forest would keep the hitmen wandering in circles while the elves hunted them down and killed them, freeing her. If the woods didn't like outsiders, it should work against them.

Hopefully.

From the far side of the clearing, one of the assassins hissed, "Brooks, we've got to go."

A quiet footstep sounded behind Aliya. Pain slammed through the base of her skull, and the world went black.