“There’s only a few hours until dawn,” Venick said, casting around for something that would stop his mind from spiraling down that path. “We’ll spend the time preparing, but I want us riding by first light. I’ll explain things to the others, about Balid and…how he’s the one who stole your voice. The importance of this opportunity. If you want.” Venick was rambling. He took a breath. “It’ll be better if they understand everything.”
Ellina looked at their interlocked hands. After a moment, she gave a nod.
That should have been the end of it. Venick had said what he’d needed to say, and it was time now to find the others and resume their preparations. Yet the moments slipped by, and neither of them moved.
Venick became aware of his blood shushing in his ears. The warmth of the room. The way the floorboards creaked under his shifting feet, and how the anxious sound of them revealed his own anxiousness. Though Venick could often read Ellina’s mind, this was the one subject where he felt like he was treading in the dark. He thought about the long hours they’d once spent together in the southern forests. The palace. How she had opened for him like a flower, only to close back up again, petals overlapping like armor. Venick knew she’d lied about wanting him dead, knew most of her reasons, yet she’d never really explained everything, and it felt selfish to ask about it now. Selfish to eventhinkabout it. Who was he, to wonder about Ellina’s feelings when he was publicly promised to another woman? Even if his engagement was fake, he knew it wasn’t fair.
He wasn’t being fair to her.
He released his grip.
“Will you swear something to me?”
His question, or maybe the way he’d asked it, made her narrow her eyes.
“We’ll find the conjuror who stole your voice. You’ll have your chance to kill him and win it back. But I want you to promise, don’t…do anything rash. If you’re ever in a situation where you have to make the choice between risking your life or retreating, retreat, please. Can you promise me that?”
This was not, he thought, an unreasonable request. But Ellina seemed thrown.
“What is it?” It was times like these when Venick was most acutely aware of her voicelessness, when he most loathed Farah and the Dark Army and this war. “Does that bother you?”
She slanted her gaze sideways to avoid his eye. At last, she shook her head.
It wasn’t until later, when Venick was alone again, that he realized he didn’t know which question she’d been answering—whether his concern bothered her, or if she would promise to stay safe.
TEN
Ellina sat on a bench at the back of the baron’s house, watching the sky. She was supposed to be looking for the morning’s first light while the others finished their predawn preparations, but her eyes refused to focus. They darted from edge to edge, catching on stars, playing tricks. The black sky was troublesome in that it was familiar, familiar in that it was absolute.
Ellina’s prison had been like that. The door, when shut, let in not even the faintest trace of light. The walls, the floor, her own two hands—all of it was lost to her. Ellina had been locked in the dark for so long that her brain began reaching for any hint of illumination, began seeing things that were not there. It was confusing and disorienting and, eventually, maddening.
The wind rattled unseen through bare trees. Ellina’s fingers curled loosely around the bench’s stone lip. Was the horizon slightly brighter now? Maybe. Should she alert the others just in case? Yes, except that Ellina knew what would happen if she was wrong about the dawn. She could imagine the pitying looks the others would give her, how a mistake like that would serve as yet more proof that Ellina was slipping, that her experiences in Evov had damaged her past repair. This was not a difficult task, spotting the day’s first light. She should be able to tell whether the sky was black or grey or blue. Yet it felt impossible.
Ellina swallowed a well of frustration. She glared at the sky until her eyes ached. Now, she thought. The sky was lighternow…wasn’t it?
“Ellina?”
She turned to see Venick guiding two horses across the dark lawn: his blind buckskin, plus the dappled silver stallion that had become hers. Though Ellina had initially taken Dourin’s steed named Grey after leaving Parith, she felt uneasy about keeping the beast. Dourin might need him. At the very least, Dourin would be displeased to wake and find his horse missing. After some internal debating, Ellina had slapped Grey’s rump and thought the wordsgo home,sending the animal back to its master.
Ellina was notgeleeshi.She did not have the ability to both summon andsend animals in a desired direction. That skill was reserved for elves like Dourin, whose bond with his homing horses was unmatched. Still, Ellina was certain Grey would find his way back, if not for her, then for Dourin.
Now, Venick handed over the silver’s reins, nodding towards the horizon. “Dawn’s first light. Are you ready?”
He said this lightly, yet his eyes were strained at the corners, his mouth lifted uncertainly. Venick was the one who had assigned Ellina the task of sunrise lookout. He was wondering why she had not yet come to alert them it was time to leave.
Ellina busied herself with the reins. She gave a short nod.
They walked around the outside of the house, passing the baron’s solarium, which protruded from the home’s façade like a crystal. The grounds were not empty at this hour. Morning workers braved the early chill to haul in bundles of firewood and bags of flour for breakfast biscuits and bread. There was a man digging a hole at one end of the yard—for what purpose, Ellina did not know—and another carrying two dead chickens by their feet, one in each hand, their heads lolling haphazardly with his peculiar hopping gait. He nodded to Venick as they passed, mumblingPraise the Taro,like a greeting.
They reached the entrance, where they would meet the others. The front doors opened, but it was not Lin Lill or Branton or Artis who emerged—it was Harmon, wearing a full metal kit.
Venick smothered a frown. “What are you doing?”
“I’m coming with you.”
The frown, which Ellina could see lurking at the edges of his eyes and lips, threatened its hold. “You’re not a fighter. This wasn’t part of the plan.”
“Don’t patronize me.” Harmon hopped on one foot, trying to adjust the heel of her heavily booted shoe. “I’m a healer. I can help.”
