Leena looked her over and frowned. “She has Charlie, doesn’t she?”
“And the book.”
“Goddess help us.” Leena looked around her, gaining her bearings. “And I thought last night was the worst thing that could happen to me.”
“What happened last night?” Raven studied the scribe. She didn’t know the woman well, but it was certainly valiant what she’d done to try to help her. When Leena didn’t answer her question, she said, “Thank you for trying to save me. It was brave of you, both when you tried to keep me in Rogos with your physical body and when you shot Crimson with your elfin magic the way you did.”
Leena shrugged. “I go where the scroll goes.” She flashed a weak smile.
Raven pointed to the satchel on her hip. “You had the scroll.”
“So I did. I guess I must have been brave, then. Brave or crazy.”
“I’m leaning toward crazy.”
Leena looked down at the bag that held Medea’s scroll on her hip. She started to laugh. “Wait… They threw us in here but left me my satchel? They locked us in the Obsidian Dungeon but didn’t take my bag?”
Raven wiped under her eyes and nodded. “The dragon who brought us down here was in quite a hurry. It seems Rogos and Darnuith have attacked. He was anxious to get back to the battle.”
A laugh bubbled up Leena’s throat, this one stronger than before. “What an idiot.”
“There’s no way out. The walls drain your magic.” Raven shook her head. “I doubt anything written in your scrolls is going to help us now.”
“Oh, we’re getting out,” Leena said through a smile. She started digging in her bag. “And not because of anything written in these scrolls.”
The scribe was clearly in denial. Raven’s throat felt thick as she said, “I can’t do the simplest of spells. We’re stuck. We’re going to die in here.”
“No…” Leena shot her a look like she was positively offended. “We’re not. Stupid dragons.” She pulled out one of her metalwork quills and started taking it apart. Magic ink spilled on the black stone floor.
“Leena, am I missing something? You seem far too happy about being locked in this dungeon.” The scribe reached forward and plucked a metal button off Raven’s jacket. “What are you doing?”
“Do you know anything about my people?” Leena asked. “Anything about elves?”
Raven frowned. “You’re from Rogos. You worship the goddess the same as Paragonians. You record the history of Ouros. Oh, and you can shoot invisible arrows at your enemies, although I didn’t actually know that until I saw you do it to Crimson.”
Leena pulled a pin from her braid and a thin metal buckle from her bag. She gave Raven a giant smile. “Oh, come on, Raven, you know more than that. You walked into one of our masterpieces just today.”
Her brows rose. “Oh, and you’re excellent at working metal.”
“We are creators. It’s not a magical skill but a mechanical one. We are born able to build things—wonderful things. And with our magic, we can even animate such a thing. But we don’t need magic to build. That skill, we are born with.” Silver flashed between Leena’s nimble fingers. “Dragons know nothing of elves. For centuries, they’ve ignored us, taken it for granted that we’d remain neutral. Eleanor hasn’t spent any time learning about us or our strengths. If she had, she never would have locked an elf inside a dungeon with any tools at all.”
Raven gaped as Leena finished her bending and held up a rudimentary skeleton key. The scribe stood, walked to the bars, and jiggled her creation into the lock.
“Few adjustments.” She pulled it out and bent a few silver parts, then slipped it into the lock again.
The mechanism clicked, and the door swung open.
“Holy shit.” Raven gaped. “You’re incredible.”
Leena took an elaborate bow.
Scrambling to her feet, Raven retrieved Leena’s bag from the floor and held it out to her as she passed out of the cell. By the time they reached the door that led to the stairwell, her magic had come back to her, burning hot and ready in her torso. Leena used her key to unlock the dungeon. There was no guard. Likely every soldier had been called into battle.
“Do you still think we’re going to die?” Leena asked her, looking up the stairs and no doubt remembering the two nightmarish women who’d brought them here.
Raven shook her head, dark thoughts brewing inside her. “Oh no. We’re not going to die. They are.” She grabbed Leena by the arm, twisted into a column of smoke, and blew through the palace, a dark wind hell-bent on getting her daughter back.
Chapter Twenty-Four
