Page 195 of A Legacy of the Light

“There’s so much I have to tell you, Elsie.”

“I have about a thousand questions.”

Grandpa’s chuckle mixes with a sob. “I know you do, and I will answer them all.”

“Granny . . . she’s . . .”

“I know, sweetheart, I know. We’ll find her.”

Callahan watches us, his eyebrows lowered in confusion.

“Callahan, Broderic, release her. Now,” Grandpa commands in a voice that he never used with me, Mom, or Granny. The voice of a general.

Broderic huffs but releases the chains from my wrists, and I throw my arms around Grandpa. Rach joins us on the ground and I pull her into the embrace and I hold them both close.

“I missed you both so much,” I cry into them.

“We were so worried, Elsie,” Rach whispers, squeezing me tightly.

I pull out of their embrace and look into Rach’s beautiful face. “You’re Seelie?” I ask.

She nods and shame flashes across her features. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I couldn’t.”

“Later,” I reply, tucking away the hurt and the questions. “You can tell me later.”

I turn to find Reyne still chained, and watching us with a soft smile on her face.

“Her too,” I demand.

Broderic rolls his eyes and frees Reyne from her restraints. She comes to my side in the mud and I hug her too.

“Will someone please, for the love of fucking Dhia, start talking!” Broderic throws his hands into the air.

“You always were infuriatingly slow, Broderic.” A new voice snaps all of our attention to the forest on our right.

Two figures push through the low-hanging branches.

If I hadn’t already been on the ground, the sight before me would bring me to my knees.

Walking with a limp, battered and bloody, but holding her head high, Granny comes into the clearing with her arms bound behind her and a knife held at her throat.

A knife with shadows dancing along the length of the blade.

A knife that I recognize, one with a pommel crafted with the emblem of Elfayne.

The world shifts beneath me.

Behind Granny, pressing the sharp metal into her skin . . . is Tavish.

Callahan moves to stand ahead of our group, snarling and summoning mist around his clenched fists. White mist that he wouldn’t be able to summon if he was Dorche. And everything clicks into place.

“Helen,” Grandpa whispers next to me. We stand together and he takes my hand tightly in his.

Tears well in Granny’s eyes as her gaze connects with those of her soulmate. He takes a step toward her, and I hold him back at the same time she shakes her head so subtly that I barely notice her movements.

“Hello, cousin,” Tavish sneers at Callahan, his face twisted with malice and wicked delight. This isn’t the face of the Seelie I have come to know. This isn’t the face of the Seelie I have fall . . .

“Tavish,” I step forward, letting go of Grandpa’s hand behind me.