“You let the horses go,” she observed softly.
Malon nodded, his silver eyes on the distant horizon. “They will journey back to Fallshire on their own. They would not survive if we tried to take them with us.”
The heat was beginning to make her dizzy. The sun seemed to physically pellet her shoulders and head. “And we’ll survive?”
She couldn’t see his face, but the crinkle of his eyes said he was smiling. “Yes, Saida. We have plenty of water and food. And I know the way.”
“You’ve traveled the Helshone before?”
“Yes, I have the High Council to thank for my knowledge of the desert. I’ve escorted many trade caravans.”
She tugged her head wrap a little further over her eyes. The sun was so blasted bright. Not for the first time, she wished her parents hadn’t kept her so sheltered. Perhaps if she’d been able to join one of these caravans, she could have learned something that would be useful now. Perhaps if she’d managed to find Malon back then, she could have helped him choose a different path.
Instead, she would have to depend on him now to keep her alive. From one keeper to another—though she by far preferred Elmerah’s care. She kept having to rely on others to guide and protect her.
And she was bloody tired of it.
Rissine
It was nearly midnight by the time Rissine returned to her lodgings in Faerune. The building used to be an inn for foreign caravans visiting the city for negotiations, but now housed Arthali. Her crew were all in neighboring rooms, and Celen’s mishmash halfblood clan was in the northern wing.
And yet, here Celen was, in her side of the inn, leaning against her door as she reached it. Tattooed, scarred arms crossed over his broad chest. His furrowed brow tugged at the heavy scarring on one side of his face, some marks reaching up into his short dark hair.
She slung her satchel from her shoulder, irritated, and ready to rest. She’d not mind a pipe of bitterroot either. “Kindly remove yourself from my door, lest I remove you.”
“You need to leave Elmerah alone. She doesn’t want your help.”
She sucked her teeth, eyeing him up and down. He was a big man, taller than her, but she could drop him like a sack of grain where he stood with hardly a thought. “My sister is none of your concern. Do not poke your head where it doesn’t belong.” Again, she thought. She’d heard whispers that Celen was the one who’d helped Elmerah flee, and it had been no coincidence that Celen’s ship had run afoul of a reef shortly after.
Unfortunately, he had survived.
He watched her, the flicking of his eyes giving away how carefully he was choosing his words. “She knows what you did. She knows why you took her fishing that day. You do realize that, don’t you?”
A shiver went down her spine. Yes, she suspected that Elmerah knew, but she wasn’t about to discuss it with anyone but her. “You were not there that day. You know nothing of the matter. I have always done what I must to keep Elmerah safe, and I will continue to do so. She is too headstrong for her own good.”
Another moment of silence.
She was tired, hungry, and her rump ached from the saddle. She lowered her voice to a growl, “Get out of my way, Celen.”
With a sigh, he straightened, then stepped out of the way.
She walked past him and opened the door.
“You know,” he said to her back, “if you continue to watch her steps, she will flee from you. She has entered into this alliance grudgingly. I would not push her too far.”
Her hand still on the knob, she flipped her hair over her shoulder and eyed him dangerously. “Out of the two of us, I am the witch you don’t want to push. You and your clan of halfbloods should sleep with one eye open.”
He lifted a scarred brow. “You would threaten us here and now?”
“Consider it a warning. I will keep my sister safe, but I do not care who else dies along the way. She is all that matters.”
He narrowed an eye. “I was led to believe your goal is to lift the Arthali exile. To gain respect for our people.”
She sucked in her saliva, then spat on the floorboards. “I do not require respect from swine.”
“Then what is your motive?”
Her anger finally got the better of her, and something she never planned to share with anyone spilled off her tongue. “Soren Dinoba, or as I’ve been led to believe, Egrin Dinoba, forced the clans to kill off Shadowmarsh witches. Elmerah blames me for our mother’s death, but he took her from us both. He is truly the one who killed her. When faced with the choice of losing just my mother, or losing Elmerah too, I did what was needed. That does not mean I do not desire revenge for our mother’s death.”
He balked, and suddenly she didn’t entirely regret her words. She enjoyed the stupid look on his face. “But you were working with the emperor. How can you claim to have wanted revenge from the start?”
She quirked a brow. “Dear Celen, the best way to crumble an empire, is from the inside.”
She walked into her room, shut the door in his face, then leaned against it. Despite her calm words, her breath heaved. She hadn’t lied. She wanted revenge on the emperor. She’d love to see his head on a pike.
The only issue was that she knew what he could do, and she was scared shitless of him.
Alluin
Alluin hadn’t been prepared to return to his chambers, though his bones ached and his eyes drooped from their sleepless night, followed by a full day’s ride. In fact, he never wanted to sleep again. He knew that once he closed his eyes, he’d see the mangled bodies of elves once more, and not just the clans killed by demons. He’d see his uncle Ured, and the clanmates he’d known all his life. He’d see his hands stained red with their blood, and he’d see Elmerah, the most unlikely of saviors, burning their bodies with her fire.
So instead, he was in Ivran’s chamber with Elmerah. He’d stood by her side as she told him the news of Saida. They’d both watched the old elf’s frantic tears. Elmerah had been so uncomfortable she’d practically forced several glasses of burberry brandy down Ivran’s throat, and he was now in his chamber, fast asleep, muttering with fitful dreams.
Now he and Elmerah sat watching the dying embers of the fire, each occupying one of the closer chairs. They’d assured Ivran they’d find her, and Alluin hoped it wasn’t a lie.
He dared a glance at Elmerah, watching the way the occasional gust of flame light danced across her face.
Seeming to sense his gaze, she turned to him. “What is it?” Her words were short and clipped, but he could sense the emotion just beneath the surface.
“Maybe we should leave tonight.”
She lowered her chin and lifted her brows. “I’m as eager as you to be rid of this place, but we should rest and supply first.”
“If we gather too many supplies, Rissine will suspect what we plan.” He hated using her sister against her, but knew this might be the only way to convince Elmerah to leave in the night.
She watched him for a long while. Too long. He was about to call off the whole idea when she spoke. “You see them when you close your eyes, don’t you? That’s why you don’t want to return to your chamber.”