“You look like an underling.”
“I don’t care what I look like.”
He could feel Lin Lill’s eyes on the back of his neck. “Do you want to talk about it?”
About Ellina, she meant.
“No.”
“Good. I do not really want to hear about it.”
Venick glanced up.
“The Dark Queen might try to land in Kenath,” Lin Lill said smoothly. “It is a central point that is already under southern control. She could move her army there to regroup, and to enforce the border. If refugees try to cross into the mainlands, she would be positioned to interfere. And it would make an excellent link in her supply chain.”
“Stationing in Kenath would expose her to retaliation from both sides.”
“True, but it is still the obvious move. Farah was driven out of Evov. She is being forced to change her base. Typically, that would give us an advantage, but in this case, her base is made up entirely of elves.”
“And conjurors,” Venick added.
“And conjurors,” Lin Lill agreed.
Venick stood from where he’d been kneeling, leaving his tent in an aborted pile. He wiped the rain from his face. “I think it’s about more than blunt force for Farah.” Venick remembered the way Farah had staged his trial in Evov. He remembered her words to him in the cavernous prison under the mountain, how she had set them down like pieces on a playing board, rigging not just her next move, but the entire game.
A family trait.
Venick bristled at the thought. Ellina wasn’t like Farah. They were both excellent strategists, yes, and skilled at deceit, but it wasn’t the same.
Isn’t it?
No. The sisters were different, and naming that difference felt suddenly important. It wasn’t just that they looked unalike—Farah with her classic elven grandeur, Ellina darker and smaller—or that Venick happened to be in love with one of them. It was what lay within their cores. Ellina wasn’t power hungry. She didn’t yearn to press others down with her thumb. She viewed her abilities as a tool of war, which she used as much for others as she did for herself. Ellina was not after the throne, was not out to prove her superiority…which made Venick realize that Farah was.
“Farah likes to use trickery,” Venick told Lin Lill. “She enjoys showing off her mental prowess, making you feel foolish for even trying to stand against her. She was never a warrior, not like Ellina. She doesn’t care about camaraderie, and she won’t go out of her way to spare her soldiers’ lives. If given the choice, she’ll choose the stylish strategy over the obvious one. I think that you’re right—she’ll move into Kenath, but not with her entire force. Half, maybe.”
“And the other half?”
Venick strode to Eywen’s saddlebag and pulled out a wax map, which he unrolled and spread across a nearby log. The rain was shifting to snow again, sparse flurries that melted as soon as they touched the page. “Here,” he said, pressing his finger to an illustrated city. “Hurendue. Farah knows what we know. She thinks we’re expecting her in Kenath, and that we’ll be heading that way. But if she were to stage an ambush in Hurendue, she could trap us against the bay.”
“And if we do not pass between the city and the water? She would have split her forces for nothing.” Lin Lill shook her head. “It is a risky move.”
“That’s why she’ll like it.”
“If we do not send soldiers to Kenath, the Dark Army will reorganize. Southern elves will cross the border unchecked.”
“We’ll send a division.”
“Three quarters?”
“Half, plus most of our cannons and whatever small amount of black powder we have in our supplies. They can go to Kenath, reclaim the city, cut off that point in Farah’s supply chain. The rest of us will head to Hurendue.”
“And if Farah does trap us against the bay?”
“She won’t.”
Lin Lill crossed her arms. “You sound awfully certain. But of course, you are not worried. You can swim.”
Venick had been on the edge of a grin, but his smile suddenly fell away. “You’re right,” he said. “I’m sorry.”
