“They?”
“The human was not alone. He had a companion.”
“Another human?”
The guard hesitated. “We…do not think so.”
Farah’s expression was inscrutable. Like most elves, she was an expert at concealing her emotions. Still, Ellina thought she could sense her sister’s displeasure. It showed itself in small ways: the finger on her knife. The heavy press of silence. And finally, an answer too long in coming. “You do notthink?”
“They were wearing cloaks,” the guard explained. “Hoods. We could not see their faces. One was clearly human. The other…could have been too.”
Dourin. It had to be. Ellina recalled how Dourin had begun to pick up certain human traits, becoming more expressive not just with his face, but with his hands and body, too. That was what happened to elves who spent too much time around humans. They lost their ability to hide themselves.
As Ellina had.
As she could no longer afford to have. She turned her attention inward, sensing how she had tensed, how her surprise must be written into the lines of her frame. A dangerous lapse. She exhaled a slow breath, willing her shoulders down, her palms open. She let them rest against the cotton of her trousers, which she had recently persuaded Farah to allow her to wear in place of silken robes. The trousers were not armor. They were not the hard legion-issued leather Ellina craved. But they were a step.
“Whatcanyou tell me?” Farah asked the guard.
“The pair was last seen heading north towards the mines.”
“And you did not confront them?”
“No.” The guard became uncomfortable. “You ordered us not to. Youvan and Balid went after them, but we called them off.”
Because of the bargain Farah and Ellina had struck the night of the coup. After the queen’s murder, when Ellina had been beaten and bound and at Farah’s mercy, she had thought Farah would kill her. In a logical, detached sort of way, Ellina could see the sense in it. Ellina was one of the few surviving elves who knew the truth of Farah’s plots: how Farah yearned for the throne, how she feared their mother would never crown her. How she allied with the southerners and corrupted the city’s guard in order to kill the queen and stage her takeover. Ellina had witnessed it all, making her a loose end. A liability. If Farah was smart, she would have killed Ellina too.
Yet instead of killing her, Farah had surprised Ellina with a bargain: Venick’s life and the safety of his home-city Irek, for Ellina’s cooperation.
Farah seemed to understand that her claim to the throne was tenuous. Though some elves might believe the rumors she was spreading—that Queen Rishiana had succumbed to the same disease that killed her sister Ara, that the sickness drove her to madness, that her death was both an accident and a mercy—not all elves were so easily fooled. Many had known the city was in danger. Many expected this invasion. If Farah wanted to tighten her hold on the throne, she needed to snuff out any resistance…and she could use Ellina’s influence as a once-beloved legionnaire to do it.
“Sister,” Farah addressed Ellina. “You spent time with the human. You know him best. What do you think he is doing here?”
The question was a coiled snake. It lifted its bony head, flicked out a forked tongue. Ellina knew better than to answer such a question head on. She replied carefully, at an angle. “The human often worries over his homeland. He is likely wondering how your new position as queen will affect his people. He could have returned to gather information.”
“To spy, you mean.”
“Yes.” Any other answer would have seemed false.
“Is that all?”
It was not just the question that was serpentine, but Farah herself. Ellina saw her sister’s gaze and thought of plated scales. She thought of venomous fangs. She thought of Dourin in the city, and how his reappearance presented a chance that was both unexpected and invaluable.
“Well?” Farah prompted.
“It is also possible that the human came to recruit northern elves who are…unhappy about your alliance with the southerners,” Ellina said. “He might hope to lead a rebellion against you.”
“My soldiers outnumber native citizens. They will stop him if he tries. But come, sister.” Farah tilted her head. “Can you think of no other reason why the human might have returned? We already established that he is not working alone. Why not send a companion back to the city in his stead? Why risk himself, when he is so easily spotted as an outsider?”
To anyone else, it might seem as though this insistent questioning stemmed from a real desire to discover the human’s motives. Venick was a known threat. He too was a loose end. His return to Evov raised many questions; Farahshouldseek to uncover his purpose. Yet Ellina knew her sister, and so she knew the truth: Farah was testing her.
It had been like this ever since their bargain. Farah constantly aimed to challenge her sister’s loyalty, to push at the underworking of Ellina’s thoughts to see if they would push back. Farah had always suspected that there was something romantic between Venick and Ellina. She suspected, too, that Ellina was not being wholly truthful when she had agreed to their deal. It did not matter that Ellina had both refuted her feelings for Venick and pledged her loyalty to Farah in elvish, or that lying in elvish was supposed to be impossible. Farah’s suspicions remained.
Ellina was careful not to drop her sister’s gaze. She met Farah’s stare coolly, observing her sharp cheekbones, her haughty mouth, the slim line of golden earrings that signified her new rank as queen.
Ellina was grateful for Farah’s distrust. She was grateful for the way that distrust had become like a tool in Ellina’s palm: a mirror that could be angled into the light to blind Farah. Because if Farah was busy worrying over Ellina’s secrets, Ellina could make a move that looked nothing like a move.
“You are right,” Ellina said lightly. “There is another possibility. It is possible that Venick returned to Evov for me.”
