“Then build some.”
“Sister.” Farah smiled her particular smile, sharp like a little knife. “You jest.”
“You speak of a surprise attack,” Ellina said, “but we must assume the humans already know an attack is coming. They will be expecting an assault by land. If you were to build a fleet of ships, you could sail around the peninsula. You could land on the western shores and take the humans by surprise. And you could load your ships with as much artillery as you like. It solves all of your problems.”
And it would take ages. By the time elves built their ships and learned to sail—ifthey even could—the mainlands would have had enough time to unite and prepare. Ellina, of course, would report on the construction of new ships. She would pass on information regarding the size and style of the queen’s fleet, and how likely the elves were to complete the journey. By the time Farah’s army set off, the resistance would be ready.
“Interesting.” Farah toyed with an earring. “I like the idea of a seafaring attack. But elves are not made for water. And building an entire fleet from nothing…that is no easy feat.”
“You will need to do it anyway if you intend to keep what you have won. Humans are masters of the sea. If you conquer their land, they will retaliate. And I am sure you have not forgotten that this palace sits in a bay. What will you do when humans attack you here?” Ellina laid out these arguments as if food on a table. Which would pique Farah’s appetite? Which would most tempt her?
Farah was nodding, but the nod grew shallow, her thoughts moving elsewhere. Ellina knew where Farah’s mind would go next. She followed the issue to its logical end, because there was another solution to the problem of human retaliation, a solution that had been utilized once before during the purge: exterminate the humans.
Ellina scrambled for something to say. She needed to redirect Farah’s attention, to pull those thoughts out from under her. She cast about, as if she might find some clue hidden in the grey garden walls, or the folds and fabric of the courtiers’ cloaks. There were a few conjurors in attendance that day, though not many, and none within earshot. They kept to the edges of the party, away from the commotion and the warmth of the braziers—a stark contrast to Farah, adorned in her new white armor, surrounded by councillors in the garden’s center. This positioning was no accident. Farah wanted to be seen and heard: the bright core to the flame of this gathering.
Ellina saw, suddenly, a different idea.
“If you succeed at building the first elven naval fleet, you will be celebrated for it.”
Farah’s gaze came back to her sister. Her expression was suddenly luminous, her eyes like twin moons, and this time when she smiled, her smile was real.
???
Ellina sought out Kaji. “We should not keep meeting here,” he told her under his breath, yet motioned that she should enter his chamber anyway.
Ellina explained what had happened in the gardens.
“This news is troubling.” Kaji’s expression was uncharacteristically open, and grim. “It is too soon for Farah to attack the mainlands. The resistance has not yet secured its allies. We need more time.”
“Farah could be bluffing.” It was becoming more and more difficult to separate Farah’s truths from her lies. Her words might have been meant as another test, like the dining chamber. Like the dress, which Ellina still wore. “Farah knows how I feel about humans. She could have been trying to goad me.” Then again, they had been talking about the mainlands before Ellina’s arrival. And Ellina did not think Farah had faked that final smile.
“Farah wears many faces,” Kaji agreed now. “Still, this bears consideration. Farah has shown little interest in the mainlands until now. She plans to conquer it one day, certainly, but she sees this war as a leisure. Why rush into the mainlands and stretch her army thin when instead she can focus her efforts here in the elflands? If Farah has changed her plans, there must be a reason.” Kaji pinned Ellina with a look. “And what might that reason be?”
Ellina lifted her gaze to peer up at Kaji’s ceiling. His room, like most palace rooms, had been carved straight into the mountain. The walls had no brick, no grout. They were seamless: joined as one.
Ellina said, “Farah knows about the human-elven alliance.”
Kaji nodded. “I fear so.”
“But how?”
“Scouts. Rumors. There are many possibilities, none of which should surprise us. Discovery has always been inevitable, especially as the resistance grows.”
Inevitable perhaps, but notimmediate. According to Dourin’s reports, the resistance had only just reached the mainlands. Negotiations for an alliance had scarcely even begun. If that was true, how had Farah learned of it so quickly?
“Dourin will need to be warned,” Ellina said. She would visit the everpool soon. Tonight. Already, her mind was churning with plans: the route she would take, the message she would write, Kaji’s legion uniform—hidden in the back of her closet—that she would wear. Livila would be waiting in her suite to help remove Ellina’s gown, but Ellina did not have the patience for a hundred buttons slowly undone. She would order Livila to fetch a knife. She would cut the dress right off her body. Ellina would enjoy hearing the fabric tear.
This thought led to another. Ellina again pictured Livila, who looked nothing like Ellina, yet reminded her very much of herself at that age. She remembered the young servant’s wide, lonely eyes.
“Kaji, I want to know something. About my father.”
If Kaji was surprised, he hid it well. “I never knew him.”
“You served my mother in the legion before I was born. You were there for her initiation.”
The elder elf moved to a nearby serving cart. He poured a glass of water from the decanter and offered it to Ellina, then poured one for himself. “Rishiana was bondmated on the eve of her initiation, as is custom. But the ceremony did not take place in Evov. I was not there to witness it.”
“My father must have spentsometime in the palace.”
