“Come here,” he said, and brought their lips to meet again. This time, he didn’t think about how the kiss was different. He didn’t try to compare. Yet not thinking about these things was no better, because as soon as he became aware of what he was trying to avoid that awareness grew larger than the thoughts themselves, and Venick slipped. He couldn’t help it. His mind darted to Ellina, and he remembered everything at once: every hollow of her skin, every ridge, every scar, the way she smiled into his lips, her laugh and her hands and her eyes, on him.
Venick had pulled away from Harmon again. He didn’t remember doing this. He only knew that they were no longer touching, and that Harmon was looking at him with the same wariness as she had when she’d been a prisoner. “Is everything—?”
A scream pierced the air.
It was followed by another scream, and another. Then: hollers. The sound of swords being drawn, the great crash of a table being overturned somewhere in the great hall. Venick was already moving towards the commotion. He glanced back at Harmon. “Go,” she told him.
Inside, it was chaos. Humans and elves darted in every direction, the women lifting their skirts to flee, men and elves drawing their swords. Venick drew his own sword, ready to face the enemy, to sink his blade into this new threat…except there didn’t seem tobeany threat. Venick scanned the hall, looking for the cause of the panic, but he couldn’t find it. There were no enemy elves in sight. No conjurors.
Venick grabbed Branton by the arm as the elf rushed past. “What happened?”
“A southern assassin. He came out of nowhere.” Branton’s face was unmasked. He looked shaken. “He went for the Elder, but Dourin…Dourin stopped him.”
Venick’s stomach dropped. “Where’s the Elder?”
“Safe.”
“The assassin?”
“He escaped.”
“And Dourin?”
Branton hesitated. His eyes flicked towards the other end of the hall. A crowd was gathering there. Venick started in that direction.
“There could be more southerners,” Branton called after him. “We need to prepare. We should close the city’s gates, alert our soldiers.”
“Take care of it.”
Venick moved quickly. He felt that old jump in his chest, the mix of dread and nerves. He pushed through the crowd. Someone—Venick didn’t see who—ordered everyone to back away. “Make room!” said the unseen voice. People did. A space appeared, and Venick saw.
“Dourin.” Venick didn’t understand. His mind wouldn’t allow him to understand. Dourin lay on his back, pale-faced and quiet. Blood leaked from under his armor. It was in his hair, on his hands. His whole left side was a mess of red.
Venick was at the elf’s side, he was on his knees. He fumbled to undo the armor’s buckles. “Never mind that,” Dourin said, attempting to push Venick’s hands away, but the motion was weak. Its weakness frightened Venick. He tasted his own panic. It rose to his tongue like bile.
“Harmon!” Venick hollered over his shoulder.
“She cannot help me. If you just—”
“Harmon!”
“Shutup,” Dourin wheezed, closing his eyes as if deeply annoyed. As if he wasn’t dying. “And listen to me. Venick. Ellina is a spy.”
Venick’s hands stilled. He gazed down at Dourin, not understanding the sudden, random shift in conversation. “I know,” Venick replied. “I know she was a legion spy…”
“No.” Dourin’s face shone with sweat. His limbs looked all wrong, set at rigid angles. “That is not what I meant. I mean she is a spy. For us. For the resistance.”
At first, Dourin’s words didn’t register. He was delirious with blood loss, Venick thought. He was delusional. Then Venick’s heart seemed to flip, and the earth tilted, everything going sideways. “No.”
“Yes.”
“Dourin.” Venick had to swallow back sudden nausea. “You were there on the balcony. You heard her admit everything. She spoke in elvish.”
“She lied.”
Venick was pulling away. Blood loss, he thought again. Delirium. Yet his heart seemed to have vanished from his chest, and he knew. He knew before he saw Dourin’s small smile, or before every moment Venick had ever spent with Ellina crashed over him like a violent wave. Dourin said, “She can lie in elvish.”
Venick was on his feet. “That’s impossible.”
