“It was an even split. Taigan and Rune both declared that you would not sully the purity of this contest by bestowing your colors on dracori scum.”
My stomach knots. “But you and Prince Warrick thought differently?”
“We agreed that he would receive the favor, though we differed as to why. Warrick thought you would feel obligated to bestow your colors considering the feats of manliness our Inithanian friend displayed during the first trial. Granted, Warrick is inclined to be biased given he owes his life to the man.”
“And your own perspective?” We’re turning again, but I take particular care to keep my gaze fixed on Elis’s, not allowing it to swivel back to Valtar.
Elis laughs. And he really does have quite a nice laugh and such a lovely smile. No dimples, but the little cleft in his chin quite makes up for this lack, not to mention the way his eyes crinkle up almost to the point of disappearing. “I bet you wouldfeel sorry for the man and grant him your favor out of the kindness of your heart.”
“You think I’m so tenderhearted as all that?”
He tips his head. “While I wouldn’t presume to know you well, you have kind eyes.” His face softens a little, and his voice drops to a lower register. “I like that about you.”
A warm feeling blooms in my chest. “I hardly think you know enough about me to form any kind of liking, Lord Elis.”
“And whyever not?”
“We’ve interacted all of one other time before this. That’s not enough to construct any strong opinions.”
“I don’t know about that.” Elis lifts his gaze to the ceiling for a moment, as though contemplating his answer. Then he looks at me again, no smile on his lips, but an oddly serious look in his eyes. “It took courage for you to leap to Prince Valtar’s defense at the Presentation. Choosing to dance with him rather than let the situation get out of hand? Plucky. And generous. Don’t get me wrong,” he adds, “I was jealous enough to self-combust! But it was bravely done and demonstrated a quickness of mind.” He is silent for a moment as he moves me through a more complicated turn, then finishes with “Besides, your loathing for Prince Taigan endears you to me, as it would anyone with a lick of sense.”
“There you go again!” I cry, shaking my head. “Making me laugh! Everyone will think I’m such a fool, giggling my head off on the dance floor.”
Elis pulls me in close, dropping his lips to my ear. “I hope I will have ample opportunity to make you laugh for many years to come, Princess,” he murmurs.
I flush all over and am inordinately relieved when the music ends. I step back, offer a not-all-bad curtsy, and make a hasty escape.
There’s nowhere to escape to, however. The banquet has scarcely begun, and I know I’m expected to dance with my champions for hours yet before finally being allowed to retire. Will they let me at least pause to eat at some point in the evening? I place a hand over my hollow stomach and cast a wistful glance in the direction of the banquet table. Only it’s not platters of roasted meat and sugared cakes I see, but Prince Taigan, waiting with arms crossed. Oh, right. I haven’t actuallydancedwith him yet, have I? Will the king be quite angry if I don’t?
But the king…he isn’t here. The dais throne where Alderin was seated but a few moments before is empty. Only the sword and scabbard remain, leaning against the left-hand arm. Why did he go without a word? And why did he leave his sword behind?
A strange sensation stirs in my blood. I don’t know how to explain it. It’s more like an emotion than a physical perception. Like my very bones are vibrating with some feeling for which I don’t have a word. Foreboding perhaps, but—
“Something is coming.”
I whip around in a rustle of heavy skirts. Valtar stands behind me, so close I nearly bump my nose into his chest. I step back a pace and tilt my head, looking up at him. Only he’s not looking at me. His gaze is fixed over my head, staring across the hall to the far door.
“Valtar?” I say, my voice dropped to a whisper in the suddenly quiet hall. The musicians have gone—no new tune has struck, and the gallery overhead is silent. But there, I feel the vibration again, that warning in my bones, in my blood. “Valtar, what—” I begin.
I don’t get a chance to finish. In that very moment, the doors burst open, and five huge, lean, monstrous forms lunge into the banquet hall.
18
Rosie
It is truly miraculous how much exquisite detail a mind can absorb in the space of a single heartbeat. Seven-foot-high lurching bodies of gray flesh and bristling brown fur, for instance. Pushed-in faces, wrinkled slit noses, and protruding, blood-streaked fangs. Enormous triangular ears with large, bulging veins of purple spreading through semitransparent skin. Vaguely humanoid bodies, massive shoulders, and muscular arms which end not in hands, but in bizarrely long, webbed fingers. I would call them wings, save that creatures like this could never hope to fly.
I know what they are; the name flashes through my consciousness in the same instant I set eyes on them:votyr. Demons of the Second Order. According to legend, their spirits are lured into this world by the glimmer of stars, for which they conceive a voracious lust. Once passed through to this realm, however, the thinness of magic in the atmosphere prevents their essence from taking physical form. So they flit and flicker across the night asmere shadows, unable to return to their own realm, racked with unsated desire.
But on New Moon nights, when darkness falls across the world, these evil spirits may possess the bodies of men and women who have died and not yet been consecrated. Clad once more in corporeal form, they warp their host flesh into these strange, monstrous shapes, akin to what they once were in their own hellish realm.
All this I have learned only through hearsay. Votyr cannot exist in proximity to Inamaer Forest and the fresh air of Utherlynd. I certainly have never seen one. Until now.
These thoughts flash through my head, not in words so much as feelings, instinct almost. And in that flash, the foremost of the demons lurches across the hall, bearing down on me, and I find myself staring up into the hideous face of my own sudden death.
But Valtar is already in motion.
He grabs my arm, yanking me behind him, while simultaneously whipping out one of who-knows-how-many hidden knives. A gleam of steel inscintillight, and the blade whistles through the air straight into the eye of that bat-like monstrosity. A rasping howl of pain bursts in my ears. The votyr stumbles to one side, bashing into one of its brethren, and the two fall in a tangle of hideous limbs and fleshy wing flaps.
