“You. Are.Revolting.”
“That mean you don’t want to share?”
It was said that elves who spent time around humans tended to pick up human traits, becoming softer, learning to laugh and joke as men and women did. Toloveas men and women did. Venick had seen it in the elves who passed through Irek, the way stiffness would slowly peel away to reveal grins and frowns and honest emotion. Venick saw it in Ellina, too, when she smiled or shrugged. She had warmed, thawing after a long freeze.
Dourin had thawed, too, but not in the same way.
“I do not know why Ellina wastes her time with you,” Dourin said.
“Dourin. There is no need for jealousy.”
“I am notjealous.” But Venick smirked. “You do not believe me?” Dourin asked.
“Say it in elvish.”
Dourin darkened. Even though Venick wasn’t supposed to know elvish, even though he was human, there was no softening the blow. Asking an elf to prove their truths in elvish was the worst sort of insult.
“I would gut you like that rabbit, if not for Ellina,” Dourin growled.
The silence that followed was thick. It had been like this between them since the first day. The only difference now was that Dourin didn’t try to hide his insults in elvish. He spoke them—Stupid human, just wait until Raffan gets his hands on you—in plain mainlander, as if daring Venick to object.
Venick, for his part, ignored the jibes. He instead envisioned reaching Tarrith-Mour and the border and ridding himself of Dourin for good.
Or shoving a dagger in his throat.
It was a surprise neither of them had tried. They could thank Ellina for that. She seemed always to step between them at just the right moment, before hands dropped to weapons, before insults became threats, became true violence.
And wherewasEllina?
“You think she’s okay?” Venick asked.
“She does not need you looking out for her,” Dourin grumbled. He nudged the fire with his boot. Sparks showered the air.
Venick peered into the quiet dark and felt the first tug of worry. He left the carcass where it was and stood, wiping his hands on his trousers and reaching for his hunting knife, still bloody with rabbit. “Call if she shows back up here.”
“You are not going out there on your—never mind. Of course you are.” Dourin gave Venick a look that was neither sullen or angry, but something Venick liked even less. “You will not find her.”
“Just call for me. I won’t go far.”
He marched away before Dourin could refuse.
???
Dourin was right. Venick didn’t find her.
The dark pressed in on all sides. On his lungs. His heart. He knew better than to call her name, knew it might attract whatelsewas in these woods. So instead he pushed through the forest, heedless to the branches that slapped his face, leaves and vines tugging at his clothes. Heedless to anything but his own growing worry, the twist and pull of it in his gut.
He checked all the places they had visited while making camp. The stream to the south where Ellina had filled her canteen. The little ridge beyond that where she’d watched the setting sun. The bramble of bushes where she and Dourin picked their dinner. Venick had teased her for that—Berries, Ellina? Is that all you eat?—and she had smiled. The moment was safe. The whole afternoon feltsafe.
Venick returned to camp twice, just in case. The first time, Dourin crossed his arms and shook his head. The second time, though, Dourin stood. His expression, which had been unguarded, became a mask once more. Venick forced himself to see that mask, to see the blank eyes and blank mouth and remember that elven masks were only a ruse meant to cover the truth.
And what is the truth, Venick?
Dourin was worried, too.
They set out together, backtracking west, then north. The moon was not high but it was bright, arching sideways across a sky littered with stars. Venick tried to ignore the moon. Tried to concentrate onthere, the upturned earth andthere, that broken branch. But it was impossible not to track the moon’s progress. To gauge how much time was passing. And timewaspassing. Too much time.
Venick felt his fear puddle in his chest. It gathered pressure, burned up his throat until he couldn’t help it. He called her name.
