“You were right about the southerners,” he said flatly. “They are uniting. And if you saw what I had seen…they willcrush you. Your sister doesn’t believe the rules of elvish apply to humans. She doesn’t believe my warning—”
“She will. She must.”
“—butyoubelieve me,” Venick went on. “You have my warning. You can hold the army off if you gather your defenses now.” His eyes seemed to shed some of their anguish, and in them was a glimmer of the eyes Ellina knew. The ones that had won her trust long before she understood how such trust was even possible. “Nothing else matters. None of this—thatis what’s most important. Stopping the army. You can survive an invasion. I know you can. No matter what happens to me now.”
“Nothing will happen to you now.”
“You said it yourself. A quick execution is the best I can hope for.”
“I was angry. I did not mean it.”
His expression turned inward, as if he was listening to an internal voice. “Maybe I deserve it.”
Ellina became angry. “Listen to what you are saying.”
“I know what I’m saying.”
Yet before Ellina could tell him that no, he did not know, and he had no right, and how dare he, not now, after everything, the rough creak of a door echoed down the corridor and Ellina froze, all those thoughts lingering unspoken.
THIRTY-ONE
Venick watched Ellina catch her words. Stop, swallow, turn.
He saw her sorrow. He wondered what she’d been about to say before the sound of the opening door had cut her short.
You are right.
You killed my sister.
I should be glad for your death.
I am.
But if that was true, why was she gazing at him like that, eyes wide and full of concern?
The unseen door scraped closed. Venick could hear the hush of distant footfalls heading their way, the echo of them across cavern walls. Could hear, under that, the whispers. Terse. A little worried. A voice rose over the others and ordered silence. The hall fell quiet except for the blurry tremble of feet on stone. More than three, fewer than six. It was impossible to count for sure, with the echoes. Impossible anyway, given Venick’s current state. His head swam, fuzzy. Blame the fatigue—
The heartache, Venick. Be honest.
—for his present condition. Venick felt like he’d marched across the tundra twice. Felt like his mind couldn’t get a grasp on his own name. He’d felt this way before, right after Ellina had killed that southerner for him. Ears ringing, breath gone, a clammy mixture of shock and remorse both.
The dungeon grew lighter as those footsteps approached, the warm glow of a torch illuminating the path ahead. The elves appeared next, four silhouettes coming their way. Venick glanced at Ellina, who had shuttered her expression. She watched the elves without a trace of her earlier concern. Perfectly calm, perfectly elven.
Give it a try, why don’t you?
But he couldn’t. Could not evenattemptit. Venick was too raw to hide his feelings. And what did it matter, anyway? These elves didn’t care that Venick’s heart had turned to ash, that his ruin was written clearly on his face. They approached without sparing him a glance. They were taller than most, broad in their backs and shoulders. The firelight threw their shadows long across the walls.Soldiers, Venick thought. True soldiers, unlike the elves who had apprehended him in the city.
At least Evov has soldiers.
He should be glad for it. He was. Only, maybe not so glad they’d come for him.
“Cessena,” they said, bowing. “Farah has ordered a summons.”
Ellina darkened. “Only the queen can order a summons.”
“In the queen’s absence, that power falls to Farah, and she wants to speak with you.” A reluctant glance in Venick’s direction. “Both of you.”
Ellina opened her mouth, ready to argue.
