“She told me about Dourin,” Erol said, seeing the look on Venick’s face and misreading it. Yet at the mention of Dourin, whatever Erol thought Venick’s expression showed became true. Venick’s heart fisted. His thoughts took a dark turn.
Dourin had been in bad shape when they’d left him in Parith, yet somehow, Venick had believed the elf would survive. This was largely thanks to Ellina’s discovery of a late crop ofisphanel,a weedy plant with a miracle-like ability to speed healing. Venick had personal experience with the plant. It had saved his foot from amputation, and he figured that if theisphanelworked on him, it would work on Dourin, too. But he’d been wrong.
“Dourin and I had our troubles,” Erol said gently, “but he was a good elf. I was sorry to hear his fate.”
“Traegar was supposed to return to Parith.” Venick spoke into his cup. “He wanted to be there with Dourin. To help with his recovery.”
“This war has prevented many reunions,” Erol agreed, “and much mending. Ellina said that when Harmon told her the news—”
“Wait.” Venick’s gaze darted up. “Harmonis the one who told Ellina about Dourin?”
“Yes.”
“But Harmon didn’t tell me.”
Erol frowned.
“Why wouldn’t she tell me?”
“Maybe,” Erol said, “she was afraid.”
“Harmon isn’t afraid of me. She’s not afraid of anything.”
“She’s afraid of her father.”
“That’s not—”True,Venick almost said, but stopped himself. He scowled at his boots.
He didn’t know what to think.
“Before you jump to conclusions,” Erol cautioned, “you should speak with Harmon.”
Which Venick wouldn’t have the chance to do until they reunited in Kenath. Even then, could Venick trust what Harmon had to say, knowing she’d kept something like this from him?
Venick set down his cup. He moved to leave.
Erol said, “I’ll tell Ellina you were looking for her.”
Venick paused. “But I wasn’t.”
The man merely smiled.
???
Yet when Venick returned to his tent, Ellina was already there, waiting.
Venick slowed. The night had chilled past the point of comfort, sneaking through his outer layers. The camp was a dark landscape across the beach. He couldn’t see Ellina clearly, just her shadowy outline against the moonlit sand.
She held out a letter.
Venick took the offered paper, which was just a single piece of parchment folded into thirds. No envelope. He ran a finger over one sharp corner. “For me?”
She nodded.
“We’ll need some light.”
Venick disappeared into his tent, rummaging for a blanket and his flint. He returned to the dark fire pit, which had been dug earlier by an over-helpful trooper, and laid the blanket alongside it. He struck the flint to kindling. The kindling caught. Then the logs.
The scene sprang to life. Ellina wore a jacket Venick had never seen before: faded leather, two sizes too big, rolled up at the sleeves. A man’s jacket. Her hair hung loose, her collar pulled tight. She looked…better. Her golden eyes were bright in the flame’s light, her cheeks pinched with color. There was a smudge over one eyebrow, like she’d rubbed the spot with a dirty hand, and her hair was salt-tangled, having dried in kinks from her most recent swim.
