Human, another insisted.
Ellina pushed the thoughts away and kept going, her anxiety climbing. The sky was brighter now. Soon, morning would arrive.
When she finally found it—a good-sized cluster ofisphanelcrusted into the frozen ground, Ellina came to her knees. Tears stung her vision. She began chipping away at the ice, prying the leaves from the earth. She cradled them against her chest. Over the horizon, the sun was finally showing its face. Ellina lifted her chin to feel its warmth. She pressed her lips together, held her breath to stop herself from coming apart. It was several long seconds before she could move again.
When she opened her eyes, something snagged at her memory. Ellina blinked through her tears, gazing towards the sun. There was something about its bright rays—and her, soaking them in—that seemed to tug at the back of her mind.
Ellina came to her feet. Her knees were wet, her slippers soaked through. In the distance, Parith was as still as a painting. Ellina nearly abandoned whatever half-thoughts had made her pause, eager to get back to the castle and to Dourin…until she remembered.
She remembered descending through the servant’s tunnels into the palace kitchens with Youvan. The way he had flinched away from the torch in her hand. Later, he had complained of the heat. He had ordered that every kitchen fire be doused. Yet it was winter.
She remembered traveling to Irek, and how Youvan had insisted they move only at night rather than during the day, despite there being no obvious threat, no real reason to do so.
Ellina remembered stories about the purge. Human conjurors had been rounded up by elves, beheaded and burned. But why would elves take the time to beheadandburn the conjurors?
The sun was higher now. Ellina could feel its golden light. She was crushing the plant in her fists.
An idea dawned inside her. It lit up the shadows of her mind. Ellina suddenly knew how they would defeat the conjurors and their army of living dead, because she knew their weakness.
It was daylight. It was fire.
It was the reason they summoned storms—to block the daylight. It was the reason they always attacked at night, or in the shadows. Ellina had seen Youvan conjure during the day only once, that afternoon on the palace bridge. She remembered how he lifted his hands but at first, nothing had happened.
Again in Irek he had attempted to conjure. Fires had burned nearby. There had been a moment of frustration, plain on his face. Youvan’s conjuring was rendered useless.
The palace conjurors met in the crypts only on moonless nights. Ellina remembered their single, tiny candle. They had wanted as little light as possible. To practice their new horrors, they had needed their full strength.
Conjurors were stronger in the forest where the trees covered the sun. They grew weak whenever there was too much light, or too much fire. The trick to defeating an enemy was to know their weakness and exploit it, but the conjurors had seemed to have no weakness. Their power, if anything, was only growing stronger. If the conjurors had a failing, they had not been able to find it.
Not until now.
???
Ellina went to the infirmary first. She was brought up short to find Harmon there. The woman gave her a level look. “I’ve been waiting for you.”
Ellina moved past the highlander. She warmed the leaves with her hands, brushing away the ice, then used a nearby knife to scrape off their waxy skins until they were fleshy and wet. She peeled back Dourin’s bandages, held her breath against the smell. She packed the leaves into his wound. She did her best to cover it entirely.
“You are full of surprises,” Harmon remarked. “A fighter, a spy. Are you a healer too?”
All soldiers knew the basics. It was a matter of survival. Ellina shrugged.
“I’ve been told you were quite the little liar.” Something in the woman’s voice made Ellina look up. Harmon looked—what? Approving? Ellina thought maybe so, until Harmon spoke again. “Your presence here complicates things.”
Ellina stepped away from the bed. Her hands were slick with Dourin’s blood.
“I am not your enemy. And I think you and I want the same thing.” A pause. “I’ve spoken to Venick.”
Ellina’s fists went tight.
“We’ve been speaking quite a bit, actually. He’s explained a few things. I’ll admit, I’ve been angry with him. But I understand better now.” Ellina did not know what this woman understood. She felt as ifshedid not understand. Harmon continued. “Venick has a mind for strategy. Have you seen him at it? I suppose you have. He has come up with a plan. I’ll admit, it’s a good one. I don’t think you’ll like all of it—particularly the part about Venick and I remaining engaged. It’s for the best, though. Highlanders are more likely to fight alongside lowlanders if they believe us betrothed, and now more than ever it is vital to show a face of unity. But I think you’ll like the second part of the plan. I’ll tell you about it, if you stop looking at me like you want to stab me in the throat.”
Ellina released a breath through her nose. She cleared her face, calling upon every old elven trick she had ever known. She made her expression perfect, and Harmon smiled. “Better.”
FORTY-THREE
The Elder welcomed Venick into the great hall with grace.
They sat in cushioned chairs by the window. A servant appeared to serve tea, but left at the Elder’s insistence that they could serve themselves. The Elder poured the steaming liquid into delicate floral cups. He smiled. He told Venick to help himself to the sugar.
