“Not for her. She is a conjuror. A northern one. This is her power.”
“She’s not a conjuror. She can’t be.”
“She has been sending information through the everpools. That is how I knew about the ambush in Abith. That is how I knew Rahven was a spy. Because she discovered that information in Evov, and she told me.” Dourin drew a long breath. His eyelids drooped. “She did not want you to know. She said that you would go back for her if you knew. That you would never allow her to risk herself in such a way.”
“Of course I wouldn’t allow it.” Venick’s voice broke. The world was unraveling. He felt it: the moment it all came apart. “You kept this from me,” he said, and found that—despite the fact that Dourin was bleeding out beneath him—he was furious with the elf. “Why?”
“I promised her that I would not tell you.”
“You promised her in elvish?”
“No. Icankeep a promise, you know, without the bonds of elvish to hold me to my word. I promised Ellina that I would keep her secret for as long as I lived.” Dourin’s smile dimmed. “Well. As you can see, I am soon to be relieved of that burden.”
Venick’s anger evaporated. “Dourin. No.”
“I might have told you anyway,” Dourin went on weakly. “I have not heard from her in weeks. And you know Ellina. I fear…”
He didn’t need to finish.Weeks. Venick’s mind lurched from thought to thought. Ellina might have been captured. She might be hurt, in trouble.
He didn’t allow himself to think the worst thought.
Harmon appeared. “I’ve just spoken to my father. What—?” Her eyes fell to Dourin, and Venick was wretchedly grateful that she didn’t flinch, or balk, or even bother to finish her question. “He needs to be taken to the infirmary.”
“Please,” Venick said.Help him. Save him.
Harmon nodded once, grimly, and got to work.
???
Venick saddled Eywen as quickly as possible. His movements were short. Too rough. Eywen flattened her ears and gave an anxious whuff. She could sense his panic. Venick knew that if he didn’t relax, she’d pull away. She’d never let him ride her. Yet his hands continued to shake. His pulse rode high. He couldn’t get ahold of himself.
Harmon appeared in the stable’s entryway.
Again, Venick begged her. “Help me.”
She came to his side and picked up the task where he’d left off, reaching under Eywen’s belly for the saddle’s buckle, pulling it through the loop, cinching the saddle tight. Eywen calmed under her sure hands. When Harmon finished, she stepped back. “Your friend’s condition is stable for now, but his wounds are severe. And we have not caught the attacker. Given that, I wonder what is so important that you must leavenow.” She pinned him with an expectant look.
So Venick tried to explain. He tried to describe what was going on and why, that he’d been right about Ellina all along, she hadn’t switched sides, hadn’t betrayed them, that she’d trapped herself on an island with the Dark Queen and lied to him about it because that’s what shedid, and now Dourin hadn’t heard from her in weeks…but Venick’s words, like his hands, wouldn’t stay steady. He skipped over details, rushed through others. He knew he wasn’t making sense. Nothing was making sense.
“I’m sorry,” was all he kept saying. “I have to go.”
“But why?”
“I’m sorry.”
He took the reins and hurried Eywen into the night.
“This is unwise,” Branton told him a short time later. The elf had intercepted Venick at the city’s gates. He’d heard of Venick’s leaving and demanded an explanation, but Venick’s account to Branton had been no better than his account to Harmon. Unlike Harmon, however, Branton seemed less willing to simply let him go. The elf planted his feet. “Have you lost all sense? You are leaving now? And for what? To chase a memory.”
“Ellina’s not dead.”
“We just secured the highlander alliance. The Elder was attacked by a would-be assassin, the enemy is loose in the streets, and Dourin might not survive the night. We need you here.”
“I’ll be back.”
Branton didn’t believe him. “What does the Elder say?”
“I haven’t told him.”
