7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Elessan

E lessan returned a few hours later, as promised. He used the scabbard of one of his swords to push the flint and steel away from beneath the door and opened it with one hand, balancing the two bowls of stew and mugs of ale precariously with his other arm.

While he was away, Aliya had changed back into the shape he'd first seen her in. Her long blonde hair fanned out around her head as she slept.

He studied the room. The dagger was backward in its sheath. The intricate knot still secured his pack, so she hadn't gone digging where he didn't want her. The tension between his shoulder blades evaporated. Leaving the backpack here had been a calculated gamble, but he couldn't risk being weighed down if things went poorly.

Like they had.

She stirred as he set his parcels on the counter. He held a tankard out to her. "Do you drink? Are you allowed to?"

The expression on her face needed no interpretation. Sitting up regally, she reached and took the glass from him.

"Occasionally, and of course." Her face wrinkled in distaste, but she downed the whole mug.

Elessan hid a grin behind his cup of piss-beer. "You surprise me."

"And you, me. But I think for other reasons."

"If you've more questions, all you need to do is ask." He sat on the stool. "I assume you would rather have the bed. I can take the floor."

She bit her lip, clearly wanting to accept his offer. "It doesn't seem fair to make you sleep on the ground in the room you paid for."

He waved her comment away. "I don't sleep much. You may as well be comfortable."

She swallowed. "You're not at all how my tutors told me elves were. Are. I've been trying to find a polite way to ask if you're unusual in that regard, or if they taught me incorrectly." She blinked, looking surprised at her own question. "Stupid ale," she muttered.

He gave her a toothy grin, flashing pointed canines. "Perhaps we both need more, then?"

She stared into her empty cup and frowned.

That wasn't exactly a ringing endorsement. Okay. No more alcohol. "I would say I'm more of an exception, but we aren't all bad, I suppose. Many are begrudging of outsiders; others are more hostile. But they didn't raise me. Not entirely."

"So you said." She crossed her legs, leaning forward. "Will you tell me about them? The mountain elves?"

He pressed his lips together, tilted his head back and studied the ceiling. Where was the wisdom in giving any information to the enemy? But his mouth opened of its own accord. "I don't remember much. I was young when we left. But I should be able to fill in some details your history books didn't cover." He met her gaze. "What do you want to know?"

"Why are there so few of you?"

He blinked at the blunt question. At least the ale worked to loosen her tongue. He'd offered to answer her questions, it wasn't fair to refuse now, no matter how painful. Besides, this information was not likely to be of any use—the Cerels already knew how effective their weapons had been. "During the Human War—"

"You mean the Elven War?"

He nodded, but otherwise didn't acknowledge her interruption. "During the war, the humans developed a chemical, a silvery black powder that, when mixed with fire, exploded."

"Like fireworks?"

"Yes, but on a larger scale. It devastated the sun and moon elves and burned many of their forests. However, to us, living in our underground caverns, the explosions were even more destructive."

Her eyes widened. "No!"

He shoved aside the anger that boiled through his blood like crossbow bolts, focusing his attention on the woman in front of him. "Entire mountains collapsed, burying vast cities beneath them. Few survived." He shook his head. "My parents and I lived because we were already with the sun elves when Aeth Esari fell."

Aliya bit her lip. "Elessan. I'm…I'm so sorry." She reached out, but he looked away, so she dropped her hand.

He took a deep breath, locking away the memories of that day. "Why did you run?"

The blood drained from her face. Fixing her gaze on the floor at her feet, she swallowed hard. Her voice was so quiet, he strained to hear at first. "Yesterday was my wedding day. Well, the dress belonged to me, everything else was really for my father."

"All those white banners in town were for you?" Something had gone terribly wrong. Most women looked forward to their nuptials.

Or, so he'd been told.

She grimaced. "A trade route runs from the southern tip of my father's lands, over Taldea Pass. From there it's a quick trip to the port. My father has coveted that passageway for as long as I can remember. Two months ago, he informed me he'd managed to negotiate possession of the whole area in exchange for my marriage. He said I should be happy, because I'd be marrying well above my station."

Elessan frowned. "Were you?"

"Happy? No. I was more nervous about having to marry someone I'd never met. Being the adopted daughter, I always knew I was going to be bartered for something he wanted, so it was no surprise."

"Adopted?"

"The Larimars are human. I'm not. There's no magic in their bloodline, nor in my father's. No matter how you look at it, I'm clearly not theirs. I don't know the identity of my real parents, or how I ended up where I did. They claimed me, raised me in a comfortable lifestyle and treated me well enough."

Aliya swallowed. "We came to Lion's Grove a week ago, for the wedding festivities. I met my husband-to-be, King Malkov. From the start, something was troubling about him." She glanced at him, meeting his eyes before looking away.

He choked on his ale.

Valek! The human queen?

His knees buckled as the floor dropped out from under him and the room wobbled dangerously. The human's monarch was here! Imagine the possibilities. They could use her to destroy Malkov's realm, and the humans, once and for all.

His people would finally have their revenge. Then he'd be done wandering this wretched kingdom doing the sun elf king's dirty work. He could go home, see his mother, and find a profession he wouldn't be ashamed of.

But he'd have to explain to Princess Tsara and her father how as their spy he missed something as big as a royal wedding. And he'd never be able to look his mother in the eyes if he allowed her friend's descendent to be used in such a way. Even if it meant justice for her murdered mate.

Aliya was still talking. With an effort, Elessan calmed his thoughts and turned his attention back to her.

"It's hard to describe," she said, "but I felt like someone splashed gold paint over rotten wood. Objects below the surface didn't reflect the shiny exterior. Even his attendants seemed off.

"But I trusted my father, and that he would have thoroughly investigated any match. So, I went through with the wedding. Afterward, as we were on our way to the reception, a servant found me. She slipped me a note and whispered that the king was going to steal my magic that night, to advance the war effort somehow." She shrugged. "I didn't believe her. Until I was escorted from the party before the feast started and locked in my chambers, under armed guard. By then, it was too late."

He swore beneath his breath. "Valek."

She raised an eyebrow at his interruption.

Did she not know what the word meant? Her tutors mustn't have taught her the more colorful aspects of Elven.

She squeezed her empty mug, her fingers turning white. "My father told me this was the sacrifice I needed to make to erase his debts and preserve our family. He didn't care if I lived or died." Her voice trailed off as she studied her glass. "Um, is there any more ale?"

"I can go downstairs and get more if you'd like?"

She deflated and shook her head. "No, that's okay."

He bit his lip as his gut twisted at the choice looming before him. "You're special, Aliya. And I do see how that could be exploited. But the gift is yours. Protect it." He handed her the bowl of stew the inn offered for dinner.

Once they both finished their food, he drew a sword. Keeping an eye on her, he twirled it in the twilight, flashing the designs on the blade. He added the second. "Is it your turn or mine? If we're not being polite anymore, how old are you?"

He spun the weapons as she sat, entranced. She almost missed his query. "What? Me? I'm eighteen. And that's not impolite—I asked you your age first." A wicked, mischievous grin tugged at the corners of her mouth. "If you are looking for an impertinent question, how about this? You said you had no family of your own and sounded sad. Why?"

Elessan rotated the blades again, considering his answer. Suddenly, the world shuddered, sending him stumbling into the stool at the table. A quick glance showed her brow wrinkled in concern. She wouldn't have noticed the tremor, just his misstep. Peeking outside, he stared at the darkening sky.

His heart thudded against his ribs.

He needed to get out of here. This could be another opportunity to earn her trust.

"My race is long-lived," he answered, distracted. "Too long. And perhaps I haven't met the right person yet." He slid both swords into their sheaths. "Can you keep a secret?"

Too polite to mention the stumble, she rolled her eyes. "I'm a shapeshifter who's spent her entire life among humans. Of course I can."

He tossed her the cloak he'd stolen from the market. "Then shift. We need to go back into the forest."

Chewing the inside of her cheek, Aliya hesitated before she swung the black fur-lined fabric around her shoulders. "Why?"

"You'll see."

While she faced the other way, he unbuckled his armor and strapped the blades to his hips. When he turned back, she was the nondescript girl she resembled when they'd first arrived. She followed him as he slunk out of the now-bustling inn and into the woods, back the way they'd come.

He needed to get away from people as quickly as possible before he was forced to justify something he had no explanation for. Even after two centuries.

Away from the lights from the village, she pulled the woolen cloak tight and peered at him from the corner of her eyes. "Are you not chilly?"

The sky was darkening overhead, but no storm clouds rolled in. Even the full moon disappeared. He almost missed her question. "No, not tonight." His blood rushed in his ears, as if his pulse said hurry, hurry, hurry .

He broke into a jog.

"Elessan?" Aliya's voice drifted to him from several feet behind. "I can't see anything."

The heavens were completely black now, like some god had dropped a velvet blanket over the world. For all he knew, that was exactly what was happening.