18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

Elessan

E lessan knelt on the floor across from Tsara and stared down at his map. The evening was hot and muggy, which only added to his desire to wrap things up for the night.

"What if we plan an approach through here?" She pointed to a blue line. "The banks of the Ithabasa are steep, but the river's slow and deep enough we could travel by boat most of the way."

He peered out the window. Twilight was passing. Knowing how hard Cressida worked her, Aliya would probably be asleep by now. Maybe when he finished here, he'd crawl into bed and tease her awake. Then, if everything was okay between them, reprise last night.

"Svialto? Are you listening to me?"

"Huh? Sorry." Elessan turned to where Tsara pointed and shook his head. "Your plan won't work. You're forgetting about Ithabasa Falls. We'd be pinned in, and an army can't scale those cliffs, much less transport our supplies over. It's a longer route, but we're better off curving north through the Frost Tooth mountains. We can take Perdition Pass and move the troops through the high ground well before the snow hits."

Tsara frowned at the map. "That's a lengthy detour. And armies only travel as fast as the slowest supply wagon."

He shrugged. "There are no settlements in the area. We can set whatever pace we like, with minimal risk of discovery." As long as they arrived by summer solstice. He was skilled enough to pick off any human stragglers they came across on the way. "The journey will take longer, but the payoff in stealth would be worth it." He paused peering at her from the corner of his eyes. It was never wise to give commands, even implied ones, to the princess of the sun elves. "I think."

She pressed her lips together in a slight grimace and sighed. "You're probably right. I—"

Someone knocked on the frame of her door. "Your royal highness? Come quick! Something's happened in the Glade of Shadows."

Elessan hesitated before standing and brushing the wrinkles from his tunic. The room spun for a moment as his heart thumped in his chest.

Tsara marched to the front door, yanking aside the curtain of ivy. "What's going on?"

The faint hint of sulfur tickled Elessan's nose.

The runner, a nondescript male, dipped his head to her. "They've assassinated Lady Brightleaf. Her nephew, Lindir, is in and out of consciousness. The healers are with him now. Please, for your safety, come with us. We'll escort you."

Elessan's gut roiled as a bitter aftertaste filled his throat. Assassinated? It had been a lifetime since one elf murdered another. The messenger must be mistaken.

"Well?" Tsara eyed him, still standing over the map, and tipped her head in the direction of the glade. "Are you coming?"

He glanced at the diagram. There were no humans here to find it, and he no longer had to hide it from Aliya. Leaving the parchment where it lay, he fell into step behind the other two elves. Six more appeared out of the twilight to flank them. His gaze snapped back and forth between the escorts on either side.

There was a reason royalty had guards, even though he and Princess Tsara were both better with a bow than anyone here. He'd told Aliya the exact same thing a few weeks ago.

They certainly weren't taking any chances with Tsara's safety.

Sweat pooled at the back of his neck and trailed down his spine. His stomach burned, and he made a conscious effort to release his clenched jaw. Where was Aliya? His jealousy aside, if Lindir was hurt, she'd want to know. She deserved that much.

"Go find Aliya," he said to one of the guards.

Tsara's steps faltered, but after a heartbeat she nodded. At her permission, the elf broke off and headed back the way they came.

The scent of cooled blood tainted the air, as well as the faint hint of ozone he'd learned to associate with magic. Shuffling footsteps and murmured words floated through the trees as they approached the glade.

Their escort peeled aside. Several elves searched the corpses scattered across the clearing. A blanket concealed a body. Lady Brightleaf. The medic in her milky robes bent over an unconscious Lindir, where he lay near the edge of the water. A red stain covered his tunic.

Clumps of turf and moss disrupted the otherwise pristine landscaping. Patches of dried blood, looking black in the darkness, spotted the green grass and white sand boxes.

What a fight.

Elessan stepped closer. One of the bodies—human—lay on the ground, charred. His heart skipped a beat. Aliya? But that was ridiculous. She was back at their lodgings. He turned out the human's pockets, searching for a clue to his identity. Two objects the size of the bone on the end of his pinky finger tumbled out of one pocket. They were soft wax, designed to be molded to fit into a small, irregular area.

Elessan glanced back at Cressida, judging the trajectory of the man's burns. Had Lady Brightleaf been able to conjure and throw flames like Aliya? He never thought to ask.

The ground to his right was torn up. He bent down to examine the grass. Another combatant had been here. He studied the blackened corpse. The fire blast hadn't originated from Cressida's direction.

Elessan sprinted to her body.

Tsara reached out to intercept him but stepped back at something in his face. "What're you doing?"

The heaviness in his stomach coalesced to lead. Valek. "There are no footprints around here."

The princess shrugged. "So?"

He opened his mouth but snapped it shut again with a shake of his head. She wouldn't care.

He stood, gaze scouring the clearing. "Where's Aliya?" She'd been here, too. His gut screamed it.

The other elves in the vicinity stopped to give him quizzical glances before going back to their investigation.

"Where is she?"

No one answered him. With a growl, Elessan leapt over Cressida and fell to his knees next to Lindir.

Grabbing the younger elf's shoulders, he shook them. "Lindir, wake up."

The medic, eyes narrowed, shoved Elessan away. "Stand back, mountain elf. Lindir's hurt. He shouldn't be moved."

"Lindir!" Elessan's voice broke as he fought to reach around the physician and shake the man again. "Answer me! What happened to Aliya?"

Lindir stirred with a groan.

The healer shifted her attention to the prone man.

Lindir cracked his eyes open and turned his head to face Elessan. He swallowed, licking his lips. "She's human," he whispered.

Elessan leaned closer. He had no time to explain the truth. "And?"

"A man…with a jewel on his forehead and white eyes…took her." The archer raised a trembling finger and pointed past his feet before his arm flopped down. "That way."

Elessan's heart thudded once in his chest and crashed to the ground. Brooks, Malkov's Arcane Inquisitor. Valek. He shouldn't have assumed the enchanted forest would keep the man out of Filathas. Somehow, Malkov had discovered a way to breach the elves' best line of defense.

He'd worry about that later, after he found Aliya.

"Get back!" The medic pushed Elessan out of the way as she brought a cup of liquid to Lindir's mouth. "Here, drink."

Elessan stood and walked in the indicated direction. At the edge of the clearing, he located three sets of prints leading into the woods.

"Svialto? What's going on?" Tsara's voice came from over his shoulder.

"Aliya was here, in the fight. The assassins took her."

Tsara frowned. "Are you sure? Three pairs of footprints doesn't mean they kidnapped her. She's probably back at home, wondering where you are."

He shook his head and turned to face the princess. "Lindir says they did."

"Why take her? Why not kill her and be done with it?" Tsara's eyes widened. "By the Lord of Light. The king wants to steal her magic?"

He bit his lip and nodded. "I'm going after them. Will you help me?"

She pressed her lips into a thin line and stared into the forest beyond. "I will. But I think it would be best if we waited until morning." Tsara threw him an apologetic glance. "Not all of us can see as well in the dark as a mountain elf."

He studied where the trail disappeared into the darkness. "I can't leave her out there tonight. If something happens, or they hurt her, I'll never forgive myself."