“If we can.”
“We will.”
“We will try, of course,” Dourin replied, “but we must face facts. Farah is moving quickly. Her army has already invaded many northern cities. Citieswehad planned to visit.”
“Then we’ll head for the mainlands first,” Venick countered, and wondered how he’d even landed himself on this side of the argument. It was usuallyhimdoing the doubting. “We’ll recruit humans to our side before Farah can march on the border.”
Dourin wrung out a dry smile. “Another gamble.”
“Yes, but—hell, Dourin. I thought you were the optimist here.”
“My point is that our soldiers are worried. They are confused. For a hundred years they lived safely in the knowledge that elves did not kill other elves, and yet many of them have now witnessed the murder of their queen by her own daughter. They witnessed the death of their friends. It has them concerned. Disturbed, even.”
“It should have themmotivated.”
“Regardless, I do not think they can handle Ellina’s betrayal, too.”
Venick folded his arms. His anger—which hung so close to the surface these days—flared. It wasn’t his duty to coddle their soldiers. Ellina had betrayed them. Lying about it wouldn’t change the truth.
Yet there was a part of him that could admit, grudgingly, that Dourin had a point. Since the stateroom coup, he and Dourin had managed to rally only a small force of elves, about sixty soldiers total. It wasn’t an army. Not even close. And it was true, Farah would be quick to invade northern cities, just like she’d invaded Evov and Kenath. She had the larger army. She had the stronger fighters. Reeking gods, she had a horde of southern conjurors, ready to do her bidding.
“The others will find out about Ellina anyway,” Venick hedged.
“Eventually, but not yet.”
“What do you propose we tell them, if not the truth?”
“That we searched for Ellina but never found her,” Dourin supplied. “That we do not know what happened to her.”
“They’ll think she’s dead.”
“Better dead than a traitor.”
Venick peered up into the sky. Clouds gathered overhead; a storm was coming. The wind picked up and it muted Dourin’s voice, carrying it away.
Not far enough. Those words rang clearly in his ears.Better dead than a traitor.The thought swept Venick with a fierce, merciless kind of desire. He would have never believed it possible to feel this way, not about someone he’d once cared for. Yet as he envisioned Ellina, his heart filled with venom. It pulsed through his veins.
“You’re right,” Venick replied. “Itwouldbe better if she was dead.”
Dourin’s expression changed. “Venick…”
But Venick was already turning away. “Let’s just get off this mountain.”
They started back down the trail. Venick focused on his footing. On the day and the clouds and the sound of the wind in his ears. He concentrated on these things rather than his anger, which had crawled up his spine and made its den somewhere in his neck. Venick rolled his shoulders and tried to relax, to breathe deeply, to tell himself that it didn’t matter, he didn’t care.
Venick’s anger, however, wasn’t interested in platitudes. It revolted, hatching a life of its own, and soon Venick found himself replaying all his many injustices. How Ellina had used him. Tricked him. Allowed him to believe she cared about him when all she really cared about was honoring her dead sister’s memory, then learning war tactics from a battle-born human.
She would use those tactics against them now. Everything he’d taught her, all the many hours they’d spent together discussing war, thinking they were on the same side…
“Venick.” Dourin called out from behind, but Venick wasn’t listening. He was thinking about how Ellina had been on the balcony. How cold she had seemed, how empty, how different. It was difficult to hold this new Ellina beside the memory of the one he’d come to know, the one who’d saved his life, who fought beside him, who stirred within him feelings that were warm and deep and rich…
“Venick.” Dourin’s voice came again. “Are you hearing me?”
“What?” Venick turned, halting at the sight of Dourin’s expression. He saw it then over the elf’s shoulder: a lone figure on the ridge ahead, stalking through the shadows.
“We are being followed.”
???
