I walk through the small puddle and then look back to the open cage. I’m… loose. My eyes go straight to the door.
Is it… unlocked?
I suck in a deep breath, still acutely aware of how it feels like I’m drowning no matter how deep the water is, and force myself to walk some more through the finger-deep pool. Then I grab the handle on the door.
When I try to twist it, it makes a metallic sound but holds strong.
“Shit.”
Then, I grab all the extra cloth around the space and start to sop up as much of the moisture as possible before holding it in front of the fire. I sit there, soaking in the heat.
It’s not true freedom.
But it’s a bit more than I had a few hours ago. I will savor it, and tomorrow, I’ll try to figure out what made Rholker want to visit me.
Chapter 14
Dumortierite
TEO
The sun is already high in the sky when we wake up in the bright forest. A part of me says that it’s fine that I slept in, considering the events of last night, but I bolt upright nonetheless.
Two dozen women with sharp ears have joined our meager camp. They are eating our food and talking with Niht.
He laughs at something one of them says, and I can tell the exact moment when he flirts—not because she laughs with him, butathim. Niht seems blissfully unaware of her mockery and the bored, dangerous eyes of her group.
My tail flicks behind me as I’m surprised to note the group is not merely made up of elvish women. I stare at a pack of wolves, several bears, and one alce. I haven’t seen an alce in decades, but it towers over all of us, and its proud antlers stick out around its head, demanding to take up space. A tall woman is brushing its fur and adjusting its green saddle.
As I stand, several eyes swivel toward me.
“Good morning,” I say in my best approximation of elvish.
They don’t react.
The woman tending to the alce steps forward.
“Teo, King of the Enduares,” she says with a very shallow bow. “I am Ayla Daecaryn, leader of the Faefurt Assassins.” She gestures behind her and continues, “My greatest work was when I infiltrated the swamp ogres as a courtesan and killed their Shaman Ogre King while he walked the astral plane.”
She says nothing about her mount, but it huffs a snort and stamps its great foot.
I nod at both her and the creature as well. Hearing her speak so openly of her bloody exploits isn’t surprising. After all, they made me kill someone to prove that I could be trusted enough to help. Perhaps this is their custom.
The one whom Niht was flirting with steps forward.
“I’m Glyni. I killed my father, High Lord Oakfeather.”
Niht’s face nearly makes me chortle, but I give my attention to our newest allies.
We’re introduced to both elves from the sunny, tropical islands in the east and those who’ve grown up in the Faewilds of the far south. Thasinia, a woman with skin darker than my Estela, speaks of her murder of a giant family, while Farryn and Elanila, a set of elderly twins, talk about how they took out a member of my father’s court eight decades ago.
My eyebrows rise. My father had spoken of the tragic accident that had befallen the Reh family line—never in a thousand years had I expected to be standing face-to-face with their murderers.
Despite trying to focus more on the names than the kills, I find I can only memorize Lusha and Taenya’s names before anxiousness claws at my gut. I don’t know if these women will be right for the mission, but they certainly are capable.
Cocking my head to the side, I think of their leader, Mrath, who refused to share any information about herself at the party.
“These stories are fascinating, but I can’t help but wonder: what of Mrath? Who did she kill?”
