Erol wrinkled his nose. “You haven’t aged a bit.”
“I could say the same for you.”
Traegar’s words were light enough, yet they seemed to change something between those two. Erol’s hand was still on Traegar’s shoulder. His fingers squeezed, just slightly, little creases denting the elf’s shirt. A friendly gesture…or a warning?
The pair broke apart, settling into seats around the table.
“Tell me,” Traegar said, crossing an ankle over one knee. “What brings a lowlander like you all the way to Igor?”
“The same reason that brings us all,” Erol replied. “War.”
Traegar flicked a piece of lint off his trousers. “It does not bring usall.”
“He likes to contradict me,” Erol told Ellina in a mock whisper. Then, to Traegar, “Are you going to be difficult so soon?”
“I am not here for battle.”
“Of course. Wartime campaigns need healers, too.”
“I have no interest in joining the campaign.”
Traegar’s voice had lost its lightness. But then, Ellina knew this about Traegar. Though he had trained with Ellina and Dourin as a legion initiate, he had never taken the oaths, divorcing himself from anything to do with fighting. He became a healer instead. That was how Erol and Traegar first met—they had worked together at the elven Healer’s Academy calledEvenshina,researching new herbal remedies and tonics and, Ellina remembered, poisons.
Ellina dug a hand into her pocket, pulling out the conjuror’s vial of green liquid. She set the glass onto the table with a softclick.
“Where,” Traegar said slowly, “did you get that?”
Ellina jotted a quick answer and slid the notepad across the wood. While Erol read her explanation aloud, Traegar held the vial up to the light. Though Ellina had first thought the liquid was perfectly translucent, there were actually what appeared to be little bits of sand near the bottom of the glass. On closer inspection, she could see the sand twitching, like larvae.
Traegar’s mouth flattened. “This,” he said, “is minceflesh.”
Ellina shook her head. She did not know what that was.
“A gruesome name for a gruesome poison,” Erol explained. “Minceflesh is one of the few poisons strong enough to kill an elf. Nasty business. You can’t usually tell, at first, what caused the death. From the outside, an elf poisoned with minceflesh might look perfectly normal—no marks, no open wounds. But cut the body open, and you will discover that their organs have been dissolved. Chewed through, if you want to know the truth of it. That’s what minceflesh do—they eat you alive from the inside.”
Ellina grimaced. Erol barked a laugh. “I agree.”
Traegar set the vial gingerly back onto the table. “If this poison was meant for Venick, the poisoner wanted to be thorough. It is a potent concoction. But it is dangerous for an elf to work with minceflesh. If the liquid contacts their skin, they risk death, too.”
“It isa bit overkill,” Erol agreed. “I would have thought the conjurors smarter than that. Why risk themselves when there are plenty of poisons that are harmless to elves but lethal to humans?”
“It could be that Dark Queen wants to send a message,” Traegar supposed.
“Only the worst for her enemies?”
“Something like that.”
Ellina took the vial back, careful now not to squeeze too tightly. Perhaps Traegar was right, and this was meant to be a message. Yet Ellina knew her sister. Farahwassmart. She would not risk the lives of her conjurors unnecessarily. Then again, maybe the minceflesh was not Farah’s idea. The conjurors had not always been entirely willing subjects to their new queen and her demands. Maybe they were taking liberties.
“Best keep that bottle safe,” Traegar told Ellina as he came to his feet. “You would not want it ending up in the wrong hands.”
“Best to throw it into the fire,” Erol corrected, standing as well. “Some poisons are too dangerous, even during war. We have no use for a weapon like that.”
Ellina nodded, closing the vial in her fist.
Later, after she had bid the others goodbye and returned to her prepared bedroom, Ellina stood before the room’s hearth, the glass of minceflesh in hand. She tipped the small bottle over itself, one way, then the other, watching the poison swirl.
We have no use for a weapon like that.
