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21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

Malkov

"W hat do you mean you lost her?"

Malkov's booming voice echoed through the scrying mirror. The three trembled, kneeling so low their foreheads touched the mossy ground of their campsite.

King Malkov closed his eyes and rested his fingers on his temples. The motion did nothing to allay his headache. Good help was so hard to find. He leaned back against the wood and velvet chair in his study and sighed. His parents had never had to deal with these issues. "This is what I get for hiring incompetents." Perhaps he'd been too hasty in infusing his Arcane Inquisitor with the mage compass so he didn't have to leave his palace to chase Aliya across the realm himself. He opened his eyes, meeting Brooks' gaze when the man glanced up. Absentmindedly stroking Shadow's back where she perched on the corner of his desk, Malkov curled his upper lip. "You promised me your friends were the best. I paid you twice the going rate, and you guaranteed me results. Where is my queen?"

The man had sworn they could deliver. Malkov had literally emptied the royal coffers to pay the first half of Stephen's fee up front.

"We're sorry, Your Majesty," the female said. "She slipped the manacles and disappeared into thin air! We can't figure out how she did it."

Ugh. Idiots! He ground his teeth until the tendons in his jaw snapped. "If you put the chains on tight enough, she wouldn't have escaped!"

"I assure you, my lord, the bindings were snug to the point of bruising." Stephen dared to lift his face from the dirt to meet Malkov's eyes. "I checked them myself. She must have gnawed off her wrist."

"Or dislocated her thumb," the woman added.

Malkov cursed. He hadn't foreseen the timid Aliya Larimar having the inner fortitude to forcibly separate her own joint. Or the knowledge. Regardless, anklets would work better. No joints one could dislocate to remove those. He made a mental note for next time.

He met the gaze of the brazen hit man and clenched his fist.

The man screamed.

"Stephen!" The woman lunged for him.

Black flames burst from his skin and sucked back into him. He collapsed into a pile of ash.

The two survivors blanched.

"Bring me my queen," Malkov said.

The woman bared her teeth at him, grabbed a rock, and threw it at the scrying mirror.

The connection disappeared.

Malkov pursed his lips and growled deep in his throat. Now he'd have to remember the female assassin's name for her execution order. After she and Brooks brought his wife back to him, of course.

The assassin would make ideal subjects for his alchemists. They needed volunteers for their trials on an enhanced Whisperer.

Elessan shifted his weight as he balanced on the tree limb above the two remaining assassins. His lungs burned, and his jaw ached from grinding his teeth. These were the murderers who killed Cressida, kidnapped Aliya, and used the whatever-it-was to kill everything at the outpost.

The black fire that had consumed Stephen would provide too easy a death for the Arcane Inquisitor.

The shards of glass sparkled on the ground from the mirror the woman had shattered in her grief.

Elessan's lips thinned as heat built in his chest. She didn't understand the meaning of the word. But soon she would.

With the human king gone, it was time. He glanced to where Zadé waited, several yards back. Tilting his head back, Elessan trilled the mountain dipper's mating call.

Zadé flashed her teeth at him and darted forward.

Elessan palmed his swords and landed behind the humans. "Where is your queen?"

The female gasped and spun, her sword slicing for his gut. With an effortless flick of his wrist, he knocked her weapon aside.

Brooks yelled and charged him, only to be met by Zadé's shoulder in his stomach. The air rushed out of the man with an "oomph!" as Zadé's gleeful cackle echoed across the clearing.

Elessan parried the human female's blade again. "Aliya. Tell me where she is."

"What's it to you, elf?" She threw him a crooked grin.

Vision turning red, he growled and lunged.

Zadé tumbled in a somersault and ended up tangling her legs with those of her foe, knocking them both prone. Brooks's head hit the edge of a rock with a bone-crunching crack . He groaned, rolling on his side.

Elessan's blades danced, a maelstrom of fury and ice. "If you've hurt her, I'll make your death slow and painful." The female assassin fell back before his onslaught.

He blinked. She defended herself well, never attacking, but she didn't look as panicked as she should for someone giving up so much ground. She must be waiting for him to tire. He bared his teeth—he wouldn't give her the pleasure. Feinting high, he dropped, swinging his leg to swoop hers from under her.

She leapt and swung for his ankles. His shin burned as her sword came away dripping crimson.

His vision cleared with the pain. It seemed he'd underestimated the skill of his opponent. Readjusting his grip, he smiled. Decades had passed since he'd been in a duel against a truly skilled adversary. This would be more satisfying than he'd expected.

The woman read the change in his expression and widened her stance. Dropping her shoulders, she nodded at him. Ready.

He charged. Steel met steel in a jarring explosion of sparks. The shock traveled up his arm, and he tightened his hold as his weapon threatened to twist from his grasp. The woman stepped back, spinning and freeing her blade. He thrust, she parried and lunged inside his reach.

Sliding his second sword across her torso, he opened a shallow but painful cut over her lower ribs. She gasped and stumbled back, wrapping her left arm around the wound.

The scratch wasn't deep. It should teach her to keep her distance, though.

Zadé's loud "whoop!" rang out as she tumbled into the other woman's back. The assassin plunged forward. Elessan braced his blades in front of him. With a sickening pop, the woman impaled herself.

Warm blood gushed over his hands as her eyes glazed over.

"Zadé!" Using his foot, he slid his weapons from his adversary's body and let the corpse fall to the ground.

"Come on, Elsan," Zadé said. "I think mine's still alive. Yeh wanted one to question, right?"

He sighed. Yes, but he'd also been enjoying the fight. He wiped his swords on the dead woman's tunic. He needed a stream or pond to clean the now-sticky hilts.

The Arcane Inquisitor was still laying on his side groaning as they approached. The red stone in his forehead glowed, casting a burgundy light across the clearing.

Elessan tipped his toe under the man's shoulder and flipped him on his back. "What are the king's plans for Aliya?"

The man squinted, peering at him for two heartbeats.

Elessan shifted his grip on his blade's blood-covered handle.

Seizing the opportunity, Brooks rolled away, grabbed the dead woman's sword, and popped to his feet. He side-stepped until he could keep both of them in view. The jewel in his forehead flashed in the sun as he gave them a thin-lipped smile.

Elessan brandished his weapons, pointing them at the inquisitor's icy heart. "Where's Aliya?" Swinging his right sword in a circle over his head, he lunged.

Brooks parried, shoving the blade aside before slashing at Elessan's throat. "Somewhere you'll never find her, knife-ears."

Bringing his off-hand weapon to bear, Elessan guided the attack harmlessly over his head as he took a step backward. If he could position his opponent so Zadé could flank him, they'd have the advantage.

Seeming to catch his intent, Zadé shifted to her left, circling.

Brooks' brazen claim stung more than Elessan wanted to admit—it was probably true. With her head start combined with what she'd learned on the road with him, and her new ability to use her magic to mask the evidence of her passing, he would likely never find her. At least, not before the Inquisitor with his magestone did.

Elessan spun both swords in lateral arcs—one for the other man's neck, the other for his intestines. The smartest thing to do may be to let the human go, with the understanding that he would eventually lead them to Aliya. But Brooks had proven himself too smart for that. He'd expect them to follow him, and then deploy another Whisperer rather than leading them to his prey.

He couldn't allow that. Best to kill the man now, and trust Aliya to take care of herself.

Brooks leaped into a barrel roll, parallel to the ground with his head pointed toward Elessan, his feet near Zadé.

Elessan's blades hissed through the air as they swung past.

Halfway through the jump, Brooks kicked out, catching Zadé across the temple as she lunged forward.

She crumpled.

Scrambling backward, Elessan shook his head. The move had happened too quickly for him to tell if the takedown had been luck or skill. Lead settled in his gut. He couldn't afford to underestimate the king's Arcane Inquisitor or it would cost him his life, and eventually Aliya's when Brooks finally delivered her to his king.

Sparing a quick glance at Zadé, Brooks smirked and turned to him. "Just you and me now, elf."

Crossing his fingers in hopes Zadé would be alright, Elessan stabbed at his opponent's heart with one sword and swung at his throat with the other.

Brooks parried left then right, shoving his attacks aside. Following through, he slashed Elessan's collarbone.

The sensation of something dragging across his skin pulled him off-balance.

The edge of the blade came away red and dripping. The distinctive coppery smell hit his nose.

Two heartbeats later, pain exploded over his chest as his shirt turned wet and clung to the edges of the wound.

He shoved the ache to the back of his mind—he couldn't afford to be distracted or he and Zadé would both die. Aliya would be next. Spinning around, he sliced at the inquisitor's gut.

The other man contracted his abdomen into an arc and jumped back as the tip of the weapon sailed by.

They traded a few more blows, the sound of their blades clashing echoed through the clearing. Elessan parried and pushed the human several steps back.

"Your king is a monster." Elessan spit into the dirt at Brooks' feet. "Why do you follow him?"

The Inquisitor bared his teeth in a vicious grin as his ribs heaved. "Why does the wolf pack obey their alpha?"

"Just because he's the strongest brute around doesn't make him the best leader." Elessan's blood rushed past his ears as his lungs sucked in deep breaths.

"He also lets me kill as many knife-ears as I can." Brooks circled, twirling his blades in a show of keeping his wrists limber. "Though I think I'll enjoy killing you most of all. The last mountain elf."

Elessan pressed his lips into a thin line. He wasn't the only one left, but he had no plans to disabuse the human of his assumption. "What did we do to you to make you hate us so much?" Beyond the two hundred years' of constant fighting, the hatred in his eyes was too keen to be anything other than personal.

"You murdered my wife." Brooks dragged a forearm across his forehead, leaving a muddy trail behind.

Personally? Elessan furrowed his brow. It was possible—he'd killed a lot of humans in his time.

The Arcane Inquisitor barked a sharp laugh. "You're not even going to try to deny it?"

Shrugging, he took a step to the side to counter Brooks' rotation. "I don't have any idea who your wife was, or where I would've met her."

He risked a glance at Zadé. She still hadn't moved. He might be on his own saving Aliya after all. Raising one sword above his head, he chopped downward.

Brooks yelled as he rammed his weapon into Elessan's, forcing it harmlessly aside. With a spinning leap, he slashed at Elesssan with all his strength. "The Spring Festival outside Farnfoss three years ago."

Bringing his elbow to his face, Elessan held his blade overhead, parrying the blow. He riposted, shoving forward. Frowning, he shook his head. "That wasn't me. I was in Troutdale then, on the far side of the realm."

Stepping sideways, Brooks pinned Elessan's blade between his ribs and upper arm. "Liar!" Twirling his wrist around the weapon, he wrenched Elessan's sword from his grip and kicked him in the chest—further opening the slice along his collarbone.

Elessan grunted as he slammed face-first into the ground and fire ripped across his torso as his wound pressed into the dirt. The air exploded from his lungs as his vision went white.

Brooks flung the elven blade away. His footsteps pounded into the earth, coming closer.

Elessan shook his head to clear his eyesight.

A flash of silver flickered in the corner of his eyes as Brooks stabbed toward his throat.

Contracting his ab muscles against the screaming pain of his chest, Elessan kicked the sword from Brooks' grip. Spinning on his hip, he brought his other leg around, catching the human by the ankles and dropping him prone.

"Why would I lie? Do you honestly think I'm the only elven agent in your realm? The only one who could've killed your wife?" Three years ago, he'd been one of five. Now, he was the only spy still active. The humans had gotten better at ferreting them out.

Pushing to his feet, he stood over the Inquisitor. Bending over, he reached for the man's neck.

Brooks planted both heels in Elessan's gut and threw him into a somersault over his head and into the grass.

Elessan's lungs heaved, trying to reclaim as much oxygen as they could while he hauled himself up. He blinked, fighting to keep his vision from going double.

The inquisitor lunged, punching him across the jaw. "I'll kill each and every one of you as vengeance."

The force of the blow drove Elessan to his knees.

Brooks grabbed a fistful of his hair, pulling his face up before brutally driving his knee into Elessan's face.

The bone crunched as his nose exploded. A thousand burning needles jammed into his brain. His eyes teared, blinding him as blood poured down his chin. He opened his mouth to gasp for air as he pushed himself to all fours. His stomach roiled with nausea that threatened to overwhelm him.

No! He couldn't die…not now. Not until he found Aliya and made sure she was safe.

The human rammed his elbow into the joint between Elessan's shoulder and his ribcage. "Stay down and die, knife-ears!"

Pain exploded through his arm and across his back. He coughed up blood as he rolled over.

I'm sorry, Aliya. I failed both our kingdoms.

At least she wouldn't have to worry about him dying if she didn't complete her Irrevocable Vow.

Brooks bent down out of view. When he stood again, he brandished Elessan's own sword in his hand. Spinning it around so it flashed in the sun, he raised his eyebrow.

"It seems fitting for an elf to die by an elven blade, does it not?"

Elessan groaned. His vision turned black at the edges until the only thing he could see was the flash of the weapon and the red glare from the inquisitor's magestone.

He coughed up more blood, the spasm sending shooting pain through him.

Brooks' steps were unhurried, almost lazy, as they approached. "I can feel her, you know. Our errant queen." He gestured to the gem embedded in his forehead. "Courtesy of my king, I'll be able to track her no matter how far she runs. And I will kill each and every person who stands between her and me, until I drop her at my king's feet, so she can fulfill her destiny and help us eliminate all the knife-ears, once and for all." Holding the sword above Elessan, point-down, he smiled. "Death to the elves!"

He plunged the blade into Elessan's stomach, pinning him to the ground.

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