Unless.
Ellina lay awake. Stars flickered overhead. The clouds were shapeless shadows against the sky.
She turned onto her side away from her troop. In the days since the whipping, the danger of what she had done had morphed into something bristling and predatory. It stalked her. When she closed her eyes, she saw its grizzly shape.
She thought of her mother. If Queen Rishiana learned the truth, she would show Ellina no mercy. She would banish her to the whitelands across the Shallow Sea. Maybe worse. Ellina knew now that it was not that difficult to make elves disappear.
Shame swarmed inside her. She would pay for her mistakes for the rest of her life. And Venick. Her fear spread, shook out its furrowed wings. When they discovered Venick’s role in her crimes, what would they do tohim?
Unless.
She shut her eyes. A breeze tickled her skin, but she barely felt it. She was not here. She was back in the southern forests with Venick. She was far away, where rules and laws did not bind them.
Ellina thought of the wildings.Theyhad no care for rules or laws. She remembered the way they raised their hands, their bloody offerings, sacrifices to gods whose names most elves had long forgotten. Ellina had asked them questions that were not answered. But the wildings had seen her dark hair, had pulled her into their circle like an embrace.A raven sister, they said.Welcome.
Ellina’s heart kicked at their words.Raven sister. That meantconjuror. But Ellina was not a conjuror, had spent most of her life rejecting that similarity. She argued with the chieftain.I am a northerner, she insisted.I am not a conjuror.
The old elf had smiled, revealing a row of pointed teeth. He laid a hand over hers, drew her close.Let me tell you a secret.
Ellina did not know the old stories. As a child she had not been allowed to hear them, and by the time she was old enough she was legion and did not care to ask. And yet, some of what the wilding told her stirred old memories. Legends told of a time when humans had been conjurors, and had crossbred with elves, and had passed on their genes.
But humans and elves cannot make children, Ellina had argued to the chieftain. His laugh was airless.
And why not?
Because…it is impossible.
Impossible, or illegal?
Impossible. Ellina made the word firm.It is why we have our laws. Our elven race is dwindling. Humans and elves cannot bear children, so elves cannot waste their love on humans.
My dear child, the chieftain had chuckled,there are a lot of things you do not believe, aren’t there?
Ellina blinked. She saw the world blur. Its colors twined, greyed. She seemed to see herself from a distance. She saw all the rules she held dear, every pillar that propped up her life. She saw the crack in the foundation. She remembered killing humans along the border but sparing the lives of elves who hunted her. An unbalanced trade, based onwhat? Her own beliefs? Rules instilled in her from childhood? And what if those rules were wrong?
Tell me why I am a conjuror, Ellina had demanded. She was not truly ready to believe it—not yet—but she could listen.
The wilding spun an insane story. He said southerners were conjurers of the physical, but northerners were conjurers of the mental. He said it would take training, especially after a lifetime of disuse and denial. Even the most skilled northerners could not always manage the task.
What will take training?Ellina asked.
Ah, the chieftain said.Now then. My secret.
He leaned into her ear to whisper, his words barely breaking the air.Northern conjurors cannot weave shadows or bend the elements. Their skill is singular, and mostly forgotten.He pulled back to catch her eye.Northern conjurers can lie in elvish.
Ellina balked.That is—
Impossible?the chieftain had asked, eyes twinkling.You are quite predictable, you know.
Ellina shifted on the ground where she lay, glancing at the sleeping figures of her troopmates. She had spent her entire life navigating the world as itwas. It was what made her such an excellent fighter, an excellent soldier and spy. She knew the lines of reality exactly. The difference between stabbing your opponent or missing, between throwing your knife true or missing, could come down to a hairsbreadth, but she knew it. She knew exactly how many steps it took to cross any room on sight, how far she could jump without injury, how quickly she could load and fire a dozen arrows. She counted. She wasalwayscounting. Ellina saw the world in black and white. There were laws, and then there was lawbreaking. There was the truth, and then there were lies. She did not touch the grey area. She did not even look at it.
But here in the quiet dark with the memory of Venick’s kiss on her lips, Ellina could not help but see everything she thought impossible and watch it crumble around her.
She curled more tightly into herself. She thought of Raffan. It occurred to her that there was a reason he had not yet questioned her about Venick in elvish. Perhaps he already knew what had occurred between them. Perhaps he was waiting for their return to Evov so that her confession could be heard by her mother and the court. She recoiled from the thought. She could never speak the truth aloud. She couldnot.
But maybe. Ellina pressed a hand against her belly. A lie. She thought again of the old chieftain, the crinkle of his brow, his whispered secrets. She thought of Raffan and her troopmates, their doubts.
Ellina took a slow, steadying breath. She chose something obviously untrue. Something she worried she might be forced to say aloud in elvish.
