Ash and Raum set to rummaging through a few hidden pouches they pulled from their boots—a knobby, violet candle and powder that looked like crushed charcoal.
“What happened after they took you, Skadi?” Ash asked as they worked with the curious supplies.
I barreled through it all, from Dorsan’s death to Eldirard’s.
“So I better call you queen now?” Raum said, almost as though he was disappointed.
“Call me whatever you please, I just want the light elven off my isle.”
“That we can do.”
“Ready?” Ash kept a hand under my arm.
I lifted my wrists. “I can run and fight, but these block my affinity.”
Raum grimaced. “There are elixirs to block mesmer that burn like the hells. Does it hurt you?”
“No. In this form it only weakens.”
“Don’t have a pick on me in this getup, but we’ll get them off soon enough.” Raum handed me one of his daggers.
I nearly laughed. Whatever potion or spell had masked their features was wearing off and his face looked oddly contorted as his true silvery eyes burned through the false glow.
“I’ll light the signal.” Ash sprinkled the charcoal elixir over the wick of the strange candle and a poisonous shade of green flicked to life. The flame grew and flashed against the glass of the chamber until the edges of the sill looked stained in vibrant emerald.
Elixirs and potions. I wanted to laugh at Gerard’s haughtiness. The Ljosalfar king was not even as skilled with pulling from light as his son, and he thought he could defeat the alver clans into submission.
Their mesmer was wicked, beautiful, and seemed to have a use for any sort of trouble.
A moment later, a small pebble struck the glass.
“She saw it. Time to go if we want to join the fun.” Ash nudged me away and slammed the hilt of his sword through the glass, then carved out the shards without a care for the noise. Ash must’ve noted my hesitation. “Trust us, Skadi. This is not our first time infiltrating a palace.”
I held my breath and took Ash’s hand. Below was nothing butshrubs and a narrow pathway guards used to patrol the outer edges of the palace.
“I’m told you’re a climber.” Ash stepped aside.
I didn’t reply, simply reached for a limb of a nearby tree and swung out over the space. No guards. No calls of escape.
The two alvers followed me, carefully maneuvering down the tree until the last limb ended ten paces over the ground. I let go, biting down the cry of pain when my sore legs struck the soil.
When I lifted my gaze, my stomach backflipped. Four Ljosalfar guards sat in a huddle, curiously touching their bright tunics. One studied the hilt of a sword as though he had never seen one in his life.
“Know where I am, lady?” A guard tilted his head and looked to me imploringly.
“She doesn’t know where you are. Stop talking, or you might recall what I said would happen.”
The guards shuddered as one and looked about with a new frenzy as though something might erupt from the shadows and devour them.
Bleeding gods.
Queen Malin stood between two towering oaks, hand outstretched. Her head was covered in a dark hood, but when she looked my way, her smile was bright against the darkness. “Told them if there is too much noise, nyks with a love of eating eyes will come for them.” The queen faced the empty trees again. “It is good to see you safe, my girl. Be ready to use that blade.”
She took their memories. The queen had not needed to lift a blade, yet had bested four trained warriors.
From one of the palace towers, a bell clanged in a warning. There were shouts from the inner walls and commands from watchtowers.
“They’ve discovered you’re missing,” Ash said. “Or they found the two dead guards.”
