Still, Kaji hesitated. Ellina could order him to visit Venick. She could make it a command. She outranked Kaji, and he would have no authority to deny her. But Ellina did not want to command Kaji. She saw his resistance and remembered her own. She remembered how Venick had broken through every one of her defenses. “Please?”
Reluctantly, Kaji gave a nod. “If that is what you wish.”
Ellina’s idea seemed to smile at her.
After they parted ways, Ellina went to the kitchens, then the scullery where servants were working. She spoke to each of them, asking for small favors. More water for Venick’s basin, and soap, and fresh linens, please, would you mind? Venick would be grateful.
“Thehumanwould be grateful, you mean,” one elf corrected.
“His name is Venick,” Ellina replied gently.
No elf refused her outright. They understood the consequences of such a refusal. Still, elves were wary. They knew there was a human in their midst. They might even believe his warning. But this, going to him, speaking to him…they were unprepared. Many servants attempted to make excuses. Others nodded, looking hesitant, and agreed.
In the end, they all agreed. Ellina, feeling satisfied, watched them go.
THIRTY-NINE
Venick wasn’t sure what to make of the flurry of visitors.
Elven servants filed into his suite, sometimes alone, more often in pairs, bearing gifts, all of them. By the time the week was over, Venick had enough new books to fill a small library. Had, in addition to that, enough dried goods to stock a household, and enough fresh linens, and soap and ink and a dozen other things he didn’t need or know what to do with.
He accepted the gifts anyway. Warily at first, because he wasn’t certain how to handle the unexpected influx of gracious elves.
Forced elves, you mean.
And theywereforced, hell and damn, no need to guess bywhom.
But as the days wore on, the meetings got easier. Elves would deliver their gifts, lingering afterwards, curiosity getting the better of both sides. They would ask Venick about his homeland or his journey or the army he had seen, and Venick would answer, then ask his own questions,can you fight?andwill you fight?andyou know war is coming, don’t you?
To this, the elves’ responses were mixed. Some nodded easy agreement, but others were still uncertain. In those times, Venick would repeat his warning in elvish. He’d watch the elves go wide-eyed, their façades cracking, weeds of doubt poking through the fissures. He saw skepticism melt into belief. Hearsay was one thing, but this, hearing Venick’s warning face-to-face,feelingthe raw truth of his elvish…
No one could deny his words then.
When Dourin came, he brought a sword.
“Don’t lose this one,” the elf warned.
“Dourin.” Venick gripped the scabbard between surprised fingers. “There’s no way you aren’t breaking some rule by giving this to me.”
“Oh, I am.” Venick peered at him, but Dourin only shrugged in that showy way that was becoming part of him and said, “Ellina seems to trust you. And despite by own good judgement,Itrusther.”
“Enough to arm your enemy?”
“You,” Dourin replied, “are not my enemy.”
But Venick was surprised. He couldn’t help but remember Kenath. The sewers, two elves, the wail of the alarm bells in the distance. After they had escaped that city, there was a moment when Venick thought Dourin would kill him. All it would take: a hand at his dagger, two steps anddone. Venick remembered Dourin’s disgust, the black anger that had shimmered and smoked, ready to erupt at the smallest spark.
Only, Dourin wasn’t looking at him like that now. The elf’s posture was easy. His expression was open. He noticed Venick’s scrutiny and arched a brow.
“You learned that from me,” Venick said.
“Learned what?”
Venick repeated the gesture—brow arched, mouth quirked—and Dourin laughed.
“See?” Dourin said. “Look at us, the best of friends.”
Venick smiled.
