Best, Ellina thought, that Farah not realize that yet.
Ellina gave a shrug. “The others are slow.”
???
Kaji intercepted Ellina in the entrance hall, having learned or guessed of her return. He caught sight of her and was instantly worried. “Ellina? What happened?”
“I need you to do something for me.”
Ellina told Kaji about Livila. She explained how the young servant’s father was a spy for Farah, that he had been uncovered and killed.It is my fault,she might have added.I was the one who discovered his secret. I told Dourin.But Ellina did not share her guilt. Kaji would only say that it was not her fault, that Ellina had done the right thing. Of course he would think so. Kaji did not know how it felt to lose a parent so young. He would not recognize the horror of what she had done, regardless of its necessity.
“You must look after her,” Ellina said. “She has no one now.”
Kaji’s worry grew. “If you care so much for this young servant, why are you askingmeto look out for her?” The elder elf captured her hands. “I have been concerned,irishi. First you leave unannounced in the company of conjurors, and now you show back up here looking as if…” His golden eyes spoke his fears. “What are you planning?”
She did not want to lie to him. Ellina pressed her lips together and looked away, towards the colorful mosaic glittering on the wall behind them. It showed a dozen figures: a horse with three heads, an elf holding a staff, a blue lizard with a forked tongue. At this hour, the entrance hall was empty, all the palace elves in bed. Kaji should be, too. He had risked himself to come find her.
“Youareplanning something.” Kaji’s shoulders sagged. For once, he looked his age. “What is it?”
Ellina wondered if every question was a way of putting yourself at the mercy of another. She thought of Venick’s questions on the beach, the ones she had finally been ready to answer. Ellina wondered if the way she felt—hollowed, echoing, like wind through a tunnel—was merely because of what she had witnessed in Irek. Or was there more to it than that? Perhaps it was the emptiness of lost opportunities. Of things that could not be taken back. She looked at Kaji, whom she had known since birth. She thought of the father she had lost and all of her unanswered questions about who he was and what he was like and what he wanted. She thought of Venick walking towards his mother’s lifeless body, and how that, too, was her fault.
Her grief swelled. Maybe Venick could have forgiven her before, but he would never forgive her now.
“There is something I have to do,” she said.
“Whatever it is, let me help you.”
“You cannot.”
Kaji let go of her hands. He seemed to sense how Ellina felt: like she was hurtling towards some inevitable end. “You are scaring me.”
“I know. I am sorry.”
She told him not to worry. She told him that she would be careful, now and always. She told him thank you for everything that he had done for her.
When she walked away, he let her go.
???
Ellina killed the guard at the entryway to the crypts. She used her dagger, then took his sword.
It felt wildly reckless to kill him. It was something she had long avoided, but that cavernous tunnel inside her was making the rules now. It whispered instructions into her ear. No more time for careful mouse steps. No more time for ploys and lies. You know what you must do.
She caught his sagging body and lowered it silently to the floor.
The passageway leading down to the crypts was airless and dry, the ceiling low enough that most elves would have to stoop. Ellina did too, in some places. She imagined the weight of the palace pressing down on her. A mountain of stone as old as the whole earth, hanging overhead.
She went deeper. Here in these narrow corridors, she felt woefully out of her element. Ellina had the guard’s sword, but there was hardly space enough to use it. If she was caught, she would have to flee back the way she had come. The thought was unpleasant, a swig of wine when she wanted water.
Then again, if she was uncovered maybe she would not flee. Maybe she would see just how narrow these corridors were after all.
Her steps were soft as a breath. The air seemed to strain with the absence of sound.
Then: a faint murmur ahead. A shuffle, the light gust of a cloak. There was no door at the end of this tunnel, merely an opening that curved and widened into an underground room. Ellina crept to its mouth, pressing flat against the wall. Slowly, slowly, she peered sideways into the crypts beyond.
A dozen conjurors were gathered there. They formed a half-circle around a stone casket, their attention on one conjuror in particular, a long-nosed, thin-browed southerner who stood slightly apart from the rest. His hands were lifted, fingers clawed, shoulders hunched inward. He loomed over the open casket where a second elf—another conjuror, perhaps—was sitting inside.
It was difficult to see much else. The elves had lit only a single candle, which burned on a little stand at their backs. Its light was feeble. Almost useless. It was hardly even bright enough to cast shadows.
