But Venick had seen Farah’s guard. Had gotten to know them, a little, when they came to goad him with insults and threats. Again, Venick mustered the effort to speak calmly. “Those elves aren’t meant for war. They arepalace guards. They are arrogant and ill-equipped. When the army arrives, they’ll be the first to die.”
Dourin crossed his arms. “Let’s not be dramatic.”
“Have you ever been to battle?” Dourin was silent. “Well?”
“No.”
“I have,” Venick said, “and I know what I saw. The southerners must have thousands of soldiers. They were well armed. Withcannons. Do you know why an army would spend the effort to drag cannons a hundred leagues across a tundra?”
“That is not—”
“They do it so that they can blast through city walls. Avalanche a mountain. They will blow your citizens to bits.”
Dourin pressed his lips together. “Even if you are right, do not forget that you are still a prisoner here. Your position is tenuous at best—as is your influence. Most elves want you dead. It is a surprise no one has tried to kill you already.”
“I don’t care.”
“Ah, human, no one is asking whether you care.”
“Let me speak to Farah again.”
“No.”
“Ellina, then.”
“She does not want to see you.”
Which Venick knew, which was impossible not to know. He hadn’t seen Ellina since she’d claimed him in the stateroom. She was avoiding him. He didn’t blame her. Sheshouldwant to avoid him. He could admit this.
What he couldn’t admit was how he watched his locked door at night, waiting for her to appear.
What he couldn’t admit was the rough, clawing sense of abandonment that filled him every night she didn’t come.
Nor could he admit his own feelings. His feelings were petty. Childish. He had no right to feel anything, given then larger scheme of things. Yet the truth was still there, small but bright, a lamp flickering in the last of its oil: her silence hurt him.
Dourin guessed his thoughts. “She is worried.”
“I know.”
“You have caused her enough problems by coming.”
“I couldn’tnotcome.” Venick rubbed a hand across his face. The tundra, the stateroom, and now this purgatory. It left him feeling frayed, andthatmade him speak too honestly. “I would have regretted it for the rest of my life if I didn’t.”
Dourin’s tone was dry. “How endearing.” Venick dropped his hand and glared. “No, truly. Are all humans so transparent?”
“Enough.”
But the elf merely smirked. “Patience, little human. I see no army knocking down our doors. You will have a chance to make your case, but until then, we move carefully.”
???
When the elven assassin came to kill him later that night, Venick felt almost relieved.
Maybe it was because he had been locked in this prison-suite for six days, and the unbroken stretch of time was driving him insane.
Maybe it was because he, like Dourin, had been expecting an assassination attempt, and the suspense of waiting was worse than the attack itself.
Maybe. But that still didn’t explain the greedy pleasure that sparked inside him as he listened to the slide of the bolt turning, the following silence that could only mean an uninvited visitor was easing his door open—and didn’t want Venick to know it.
