Young, yes, and lost,yes, but maybe not so naive. She had seen that in his grey eyes, heard it in his voice in the heat of fever. She had touched his skin and felt its razor burn, had seen his expression morph in pain and anger that had nothing to do with his injury.
Steady, human, she had said to him. She knew better than to wake a man from a dream, and especially a fever-dream. It was said that when men dreamed they walked another earth, and to wake them was to meddle in that other realm. Ellina could not know for sure. Elves did not dream. Still, she had stayed close, and sprinkled the fire with berrybough to ease his mind, and waited for him to wake. She was glad then that the others had gone ahead. She imagined what Raffan would say could he see her now.
You are getting soft, Ellina. He is human. He does not deserve your pity.
But then, pity was not what she felt, was it? He was strange for a human. It was his eyes. Most humans had a way of looking at elves. Quickly, then away, as if they were afraid to stare too long. But this human did not dart his glances. He stared at her full on as an elf might, without a whiff of fear on him.
She kept waiting for it. Waiting for him to show some sign that he feared her. He should. She had pointed her weapons at him, threatened him. She had him at her mercy, but he simply gazed at her with that too-long stare and waited for whatever came next.
Maybe he did not fear her, Ellina thought.
Maybe he was a fool, she thought.
He seemed to sense her gaze and lifted his eyes. Grey, like a winter storm. A wintery smile, too, that he flashed at her now.
Yes, Ellina decided. She was glad that Raffan was not there. Glad, that he did not see her turn away from that smile, the dark resolve that settled into her. And something else, too. The air piqued with some unknown feeling. Uneasy, a little somber. Raffan would know it. He would feel it. He heard and saw and felteverything.
Ellina’s skin prickled. She suspected Raffan already knew she was hiding her real reason for saving the human. He had to know. And it was obvious, was it not? The human was a liar, their bargain a charade. No elf would believe a human had been sent to Evov to speak with their queen.Shecertainly did not. Ellina was an elite solider, a scout trained in the art of deceit. That had been their mission before this diversion: to investigate the rumors of southern elven resistance, to observe their enemy. Tospy. The north and the south had never been allies, but only recently had tensions between their two sides sharpened into something like a weapon, capable of doing violence.
Ellina was not afraid of violence. And yet, she also understood the power of stealth, of gathering evidence, of watching and waiting for a plot to play out.
She thought of the human’s plot. The story he told about who he was, the way he lied to convince her to spare his life. Ellina did not have much experience with humans, but dishonesty had a certain flavor, a certain color. She knew it well.
She used it herself.
But Ellina could not let Raffan know her real reason for saving the human. She could not let anyone know. If they found out…
She clamped down on her mess of worries. She was thinking too much. Better not to think at all. Better to watch the shadows, listen to the trees, the rain.
She forced her gaze to the path ahead and marched on.
FIVE
Venick smelled the city before he saw it.
He had never been to Kenath, but he recognized that smell immediately. It was chimney smoke, cooked meat, the sour odor of animals and people shoved together in too-close quarters. A city smell. Different from what he was used to, which was open sea air and mountain. It might have been unwelcome, too, if not for the alternative: a wet forest and an aching leg and a chill that might be the wind. Might also be his fever returning. He tried not to worry over which.
They’d trekked through the night and into the morning without any sign of the not-wolves. The forest was quiet save for Ellina’s soft footsteps and Venick’s uneven gait and the motherlessrain. It had frothed and swelled into a true storm, battering them in a way that made Venick wonder if rain could be vengeful, and what he’d done to cause offense. It wasn’t until dawn that the rain finally retreated, rolling back into clouds that parted and drifted away.
To reveal Ellina in stark daylight, there, ahead. Venick had only seen snatches of her through the night. She flitted through the trees, finding him long enough to saykeep goingorwatch the pathbefore disappearing again. Venick might have assumed she was covering their trail if not for the storm there to do that for them. He considered asking, then thought better of it. He didn’t expect her to walk with him. He didn’t want her to. It was bad enough that he was limping, his bandaged foot sucking and popping in the mud. It took all his concentration just to keep that leg under him without having to pretend otherwise.
No room for your pride, Venick.
And who was he fooling, anyway? Act like he hadn’t got his foot caught in a bear trap, act like the metal hadn’t sunk into flesh and muscle. It was a wonder he was walking at all. He had considered asking her about that, too. She’d said she wasn’teondghi, but she was more skilled than the average soldier. He remembered pieces from the cave, but they were foggy, half-dreamed. The medicines she’d used, something thrown into the fire, leaves wrapped and rewrapped around the wound. How she knelt over him, her dark braid falling across one shoulder. How her hands brushed his cheek, checking for fever. The warmth of them.
“The city,” Ellina said from where she stood at the edge of the trees. Venick—damn his stupid pride—forced himself to walk normally as he came to her side. He watched her expression, which was carefully impassive. Her hand, though, had dropped to her sword.
“Trouble?”
“No. No trouble.” But she wouldn’t quite meet his gaze.
He arched a brow. “Really?”
“Look for yourself if you do not believe me.”
He squinted across the meadow towards the city, trying to see what she saw that might cause that stiffness. Kenath was built on a river, a wide valley to the south, sloping hills to the north, grey and red buildings stacked to either side. It was a border city, sprawled across the invisible boundary between the elflands and the mainlands and one of the few places where elves and men could meet freely. It was also north of the southern forests and therefore in the north’s domain. Ellina should be safe in such a city.
And yet, her hand on her weapon. And yet, the set to her shoulders, the tightness behind her eyes.
