“That day we fought the coven. When you saved her life.”
Ellina nodded. “She loves him, even if they do not see eye to eye. He is her only living family, and she took a big risk by moving against him. It would not make sense for her to quit now.”
“People do things that don’t make sense all the time.”
Ellina’s mouth lifted. “So I have seen.”
Venick scowled. “And elves. Elves do, too.”
“Untrue. Elves are perfectly rational.”
“Overly analytical.”
“They make no mistakes.”
“They’re obsessed with rules.”
Ellina plucked back her canteen. “Humans could learn a thing or two.”
???
Three days later, the city of Kenath emerged in the distance: a dense, grey pebble.
“I feel like we’ve done this before,” Venick mused.
“Hmm,” was all Ellina said.
Like a plainsland city, Kenath was built on a river, a wide valley to the south, hills to the north, buildings stacked on either side. But Kenath wasn’t a plainsland city—it was a border city, set across the invisible boundary between the elflands and the mainlands and one of the few places where, during Queen Rishiana’s reign, elves and men had been allowed to meet freely.
They rode closer. Venick, Ellina, Erol, Traegar, and Dourin took up the army’s head, Bournmay sliding like a shadow between them. As they approached the city, more details emerged: the watchtowers, the streets, the rust-and-slate buildings. Kenath looked like Venick remembered, save for one, glaring difference.
A ring of soldiers encircled the city’s perimeter. These weren’t mere troopers on patrol—this was a veritablebarricadeof bodies, all human, and highlander, if the color of their uniforms was any indication. The soldiers stood shoulder-to-shoulder, six people deep, everyone armed with crossbows…
Which came up at the sight of Venick’s party.
Venick tugged Eywen to a stop. Held up his hand to order a halt, then glanced sideways at Ellina, who had shut her expression down to near-blankness. Still, when they crossed stares, Venick knew she was thinking what he was thinking.
Harmon had retaken control of this city. Those were her warriors. So what did it mean that they were barring Venick’s entrance with their crossbows trained on his heart, hundreds of arrows watching him like eyes?
“We should dismount,” Erol suggested, “to show that we are not a threat.”
“We should turn back,” Dourin corrected, “and forget this entire plan.”
“We cannot turn back,” Traegar said, exasperated. “Those are our own men.”
Venick was already swinging out of his saddle. “I’ll go.”
“Not alone,” Ellina replied. “We are coming with you.”
As they walked down the uneven hillside and approached the line of bodies, the crossbows didn’t lower. Venick relaxed his shoulders, unclenched jaw, doing his best to don the countenance of a man whose heart wasn’t sitting in his throat. He counted one breath, two, before a headless voice said, “Stand down. It’s the Commander.”
A gap appeared in the bodies. Venick recognized the man who emerged through it: a middle-aged highlander named Oppan, short in height but wide in girth, with a handlebar mustache that tended to flap when he spoke. Oppan was one of Harmon’s captains.
“Commander,” said Captain Oppan. “Apologies for the—ah—welcome. The men are under orders.”
“To shoot their fellows?” Dourin asked dryly.
“We had to be sure you were who you appeared to be. Can’t be too careful these days. Kenath’s wall was destroyed during our fight for the city. We haven’t yet had time to build a new one.”
