Elven Fury (Agents of the Crown Book 4) Page 19

  Zenia listened intently, almost wishing she had her notepad with her. She knew little of elven history and was hearing many of these names for the first time.

  “I can’t imagine the king’s firstborn liked being replaced as heir,” Jev said.

  “Not his firstborn, second born, or third born, no,” Lornysh said, his gaze still toward the ceiling, a distant and unfocused aspect to his silver eyes. “It was actually his third born who thought to do some more research on my mother and see if it was possible the genealogists had been mistaken. By this time, I was a grown elf in training to become a warden and your people had sent their first armies to our southern shores.

  “Since my father, the king, was a mere four hundred years old, I didn’t expect to become king any time soon, nor did I even want to be his heir. I’d always thought rule should be decided based on a person’s merit and aptitude rather than blood, in a similar manner as to how the dwarves do it, but nobody cared much what I thought. At the least, few in my family listened except for my mother. My half-brothers and half-sisters were grown and traveling the world when I was a youth, so I barely knew them, but I knew they all resented me. Even my sisters, who would never have become rulers, resented that my father had taken another woman after their mother passed.”

  “So, you and Princess Yesleva aren’t close,” Jev said.

  “No. She occasionally deigned to speak with me when we crossed paths when I was young, but that was infrequent.”

  “All this means you’re a lot younger than I realized,” Jev said. “I always thought you were one of those crusty old elves of at least five hundred.”

  Lornysh snorted softly.

  “I had no idea you were a prince—the crown prince? Should I be kneeling to you? Arranging a better healing spot for you than the bed in my room?” Jev was smiling and joking, but his eyes seemed troubled when he looked over at Zenia. Maybe even bewildered. This was definitely new news to him.

  “I am nothing now.” Lornysh closed his eyes again.

  “Because you attacked your own people during the war?” Jev asked.

  Lornysh was silent again, and Zenia feared he would stop talking. Now that he’d started, she wanted to hear the whole story.

  “That came after they drove me out,” he finally said.

  “Your people kicked you out?” Jev asked. “Because of the fire?”

  “Because of what my half-brother dug up. My mother is indeed a descendant of Emperor Hy-marishon, but she is also the descendant of a half-elf traveler who visited the colony in her grandmother’s day.”

  Jev leaned back on the stool and twitched when he realized his seat didn’t have a back. “You’re part human?” he asked when he recovered.

  “My mother is one-eighth human. I am one-sixteenth.”

  “One sixteenth. Lornysh, who could possibly care about such minor dilution?”

  “My people. And you know the word they use for it.” Lornysh met Jev’s eyes. “It’s not dilution.”

  Jev grimaced. “Sythok.” Jev looked at Zenia. “Somewhere between infection, parasite, and taint. It’s not literal. Elves like to take poetic license.”

  “The revelation made for quite an outcry, and my father was horrified. He looked at me as if he’d discovered I were three-quarters orc. My mother, the last I heard, fled back to her colony and isn’t speaking to my father. The Council of Elders revoked my right to be my father’s heir and asked me to leave.”

  “Because you’re one-sixteenth human,” Jev said, disbelief in his tone.

  “Because they deemed me unclean. You are aware that those of mixed blood are not welcome in Taziira. They are permitted to travel through the forests, as humans were before the war, but they may not live in our cities and become subjects of the king. They have no rights to inherit belongings or dwellings or hereditary positions.”

  “I knew half-elves weren’t allowed, but I didn’t realize… by the founders, Lornysh. One-sixteenth. Do you even have any human traits? I’ve certainly never noticed any.”

  “Thank you.” Lornysh sounded genuinely pleased, though it was short-lived. He closed his eyes again. “I was angry and felt it unjust. I didn’t care about being the king’s heir—I was even relieved when that announcement was made.”

  “I can imagine,” Jev murmured, and Zenia knew he was thinking of his own situation.

  “But when they ordered me to leave by the end of the year, I knew it would mean leaving Amuzhara. Her work was there, all her business, her gallery. I asked if she would consider giving it up and moving with me, but she said no.” Thus far, Lornysh had been delivering the story in a matter-of-fact, even grudgingly accepting, way, but bitterness crept into his tone now. “I believed—she’d led me to believe—that we would wed. But as soon as she learned about my unclean state, she began distancing herself from me. Looking back, I should have realized that it was over before I even suggested moving. But I wasn’t that wise then.

  “I left in anger with red hazing my vision, and when I stumbled across your army—fell into the hands of your scouts, as you’ll recall—I was still furious. I wanted to hurt my people. The people who were no longer my people. I was happy to be your king’s assassin.”

  “Actions which turned you from an exile to a hated enemy,” Jev said quietly, certainly.

  “Yes.”

  “And Vornzylar wants to kill you to punish you and avenge those you killed.”

  “And because he believes I, in my anger, burned Amuzhara’s home. The three of us had been close once. He taught some of my classes when I was training to be a warden.”

  “That’s why you can’t kill him,” Jev said.

  “That is why.”

  “Well, that doesn’t mean I can’t kill him.”

  Lornysh turned his head away. “I am tired, Jevlain. I do not want to see him killed, but I also do not want to fight him anymore. I never wanted to fight him.”

  “You won’t have to. You just stay in the castle and rest.” Jev touched his shoulder, then stood up. “Healer Neena has already decided you should get my room. I’d have a guard push the armoire in front of the window, if I were you. Castle windows are like catnip to elves, apparently.”

  Zenia thought that might evoke a hint of a smile from Lornysh, but he only stared at the far wall, as if he hadn’t heard.

  Jev patted his shoulder again, moved the pain potion closer to him, and headed to the door. Zenia followed him out. Once they were out of even elven earshot, he stopped and faced her.

  “Can you use your dragon tear to track down Vornzylar?” he asked intently.

  “I…” Could she? She hadn’t considered it, but those elves all carried magical swords and her dragon tear could sense other sources of magic. Could it do so across many miles?

  “He’s the one who attacked us in the library. Your dragon tear will be familiar with his sword, and I’m sure that wherever it is, he is.”

  Zenia clasped her dragon tear and closed her eyes, formulating the request through thoughts rather than words. She hadn’t gotten a good look at the elf’s face, but she could envision the glowing silver sword well enough. She imagined racing through the streets of the city with a leashed dog, on the trail of the elf and his magical blade.

  The dragon tear imparted a somewhat different image to her.

  She was running along the highway east of the city, miles away from Korvann and the castle, and instead of a dog, she was accompanied by a magnificent green dragon flapping its wings as it flew over her head on the trail of the elf. A wistful sense of longing accompanied the vision, and she didn’t quite grasp what the dragon tear meant. Did it feel it couldn’t quite track the elf? Or maybe it wanted to be in dragon form and out there flying free?

  The equivalent of a nod of agreement came to her.

  Before she could formulate a response in her thoughts, elves came into view in the vision. Four of them rode on horses headed away from the city. Vornzylar, a bloody bandage wrapping under his armpit and over his s
houlder, led the way. His sword was sheathed, but the pommel glowed its distinctive silver. He glanced over his shoulder and squinted straight at Zenia, as if he could somehow sense her watching him through these magical means.

  She shrank back, and the vision faded.

  “He’s heading away from the city, following the coastal highway,” she said, growing aware again of Jev. He was still watching her intently. “To the east.”

  “Toward Dharrow land?”

  “That direction, but I have no way to know his final destination. I think I can check again, but I better wait. He seemed to sense me.”

  “Understood. Thank you. I’ll tell Targyon and find out if he’s sent word to the archmages yet. We’re going to need magical help if we’re going to take on those elves.”

  “I agree.”

  Zenia thought of how her dragon tear hadn’t been enough tonight even though it was the most powerful one she’d encountered in the city. Even if Targyon could convince the Temple leaders to send mages, would it be enough?

  13

  Shortly before dawn, Jev watched from the castle courtyard as Captain Krox, the current garrison commander for the troops that had stayed on full-time after returning from the war, marched a platoon through the gate. Jev tried to look attentive, and grateful that help was coming, but he had only slept a few hours, and he kept yawning.

  “Platoon, halt,” Krox called after the fifty-odd men had entered. “Form it up!”

  They hustled to divide themselves into four squads facing him. Jev recognized some of the men and was glad Krox had brought veterans to help with the elves. He would be even more glad if Targyon was able to convince the archmages to send trained mages with dragon tears. It seemed unfair that they needed such forces to go after four elves, but four elves with magic almost equaled the might of a dragon.

  Expecting Zenia at any moment, Jev kept glancing over his shoulder as Krox barked orders at his men, running them through push-ups and other calisthenics while they waited. The exercises were awkward since the soldiers all wore short swords or daggers at their waists and had rifles and packs strapped to their backs.

  Someone jogged out the side door of the castle nearest the Crown Agents’ office, but it wasn’t Zenia. Their new secretary, Sevy, hurried toward Jev, her dark hair clasped behind her neck and a set of fat books under her arm.

  “Zyndar Jev,” she blurted. “Captain Cham is having a—a—I’m not sure. She gripped her desk, and her eyes are all glazed as if she’s in a trance. We’d been talking about the new batch of reports, and she went rigid in the middle of a sentence. Uhm, her dragon tear is glowing through her shirt.”

  Jev cursed, barked a, “Thanks,” and rushed for the door.

  He almost crashed into Zyndar Garlok, who was heading up the walkway with his mug and satchel.

  “You need help finding the office, Dharrow?” he asked, deliberately planting himself in Jev’s path. “It’s in the basement in case you’ve forgotten because you’re never there.”

  Jev, remembering Hydal’s words that Garlok had been behind at least some of the rumors circulated about him and Zenia, stopped long enough to punch him in the nose. Garlok reeled back, dropping his mug and satchel.

  “You’re fired, jackass,” Jev growled, then raced around him and toward the door.

  “I was appointed by Targyon,” Garlok snarled after him. “You can’t fire me.”

  “I just did. Go gossip about it to your cronies.”

  Jev ran inside, not waiting for a response, and sprinted down to the office. Numerous lamps burned on walls and desks, but nobody was in there except—

  “Zenia!” Jev yelled, spotting her kneeling on the floor between their desks, clenching the edge of the closest. Her other hand gripped her dragon tear, and a sickly bluish-green light leaked between her fingers. “Zenia, what happened?”

  He cracked his hip on a desk as he ran down the center aisle, but he didn’t slow down. He dropped to his knees in front of her and gripped her shoulders.

  Zenia’s eyes were open, but she didn’t react.

  “Is it the elves?” Jev whispered. “Some attack? Or is it your gem?”

  She didn’t seem to see or hear him, or even be aware that he was in front of her.

  “Dragon tear, let her go,” Jev ordered, though he had no idea if the thing could understand.

  He gently gripped her hand and tried to peel her fingers away from the gem. Maybe if he could break her contact with it…

  A magical wall slammed into him, knocking him away with such force that he skidded on his ass along the tiles until his back cracked into one of the desks. Papers and knickknacks rained down on him.

  “Jev?” Zenia asked uncertainly, her voice weak.

  He rushed back to her side, dropping to his knees, but he hesitated to touch her again. “Zenia? What is it? What’s wrong?”

  “I—” She swallowed and looked down at her chest. The dragon tear had gone dark. “Nothing. Just a dream.”

  “People don’t dream with their eyes open. Sevy said you fell into a trance.”

  “It was one of my nightmares about being a prisoner in a cave.” She frowned and touched the dragon tear. “I can’t sense it. It’s cold. Something happened.”

  “Yeah, it knocked you to the floor and took over your mind.” Jev’s fingers twitched with the urge to pull it over her head and toss it to the other side of the room where it couldn’t influence her.

  “No, I mean something happened to it. To the soul the gem is linked to. Him. Or maybe her. I’ve never been certain.”

  “Because little oval gems don’t have genitalia. Zenia.” Jev rested his hands on her waist, prepared to help her to her feet if she was ready. “Can you stand? Krox has brought some troops. We’re going to have to meet with them and give them what intel we have on the elves. I don’t suppose you could check on them again and see where they holed up for the night?”

  “I can’t check on anything.” She held the dragon tear out on its chain, the gem still dark. “I don’t sense it anymore, and I don’t think I can call upon any magic.”

  Dread filled Jev. Thus far, her dragon tear was the only thing that had been effective against the powerful elf wardens.

  Zenia’s eyes held similar dread, and concern, as well. “I’m worried about it. And without it… I have nothing to offer.”

  “You have plenty to offer.” Jev helped her to her feet and wrapped her in a hug.

  Light flared between their chests. Startled, he released her and backed away.

  The gem pulsed with a strong blue light, the hue appearing healthier than the green-tinted blue from before.

  “It appears to be back,” he noted dryly.

  Zenia wrapped her fingers around it again. Jev was tempted to grab her wrist and stop her, lest she be pulled into another trance.

  Her mouth twisted. “It’s refusing to tell me what happened.”

  “Rude.”

  “I think when it shares the dreams with me, it’s unintentional. I wish I knew how to help it. The soul linked to it.”

  “At the risk of being rude myself, could you check on the elves again? It concerned me that you detected them heading east last night.” Toward his family’s land. Other zyndar families held land out in that direction, but the Dharrows had a lot of it and close to the city. Jev worried they would find out those elves had been taking refuge in the forest on the back half of his family’s acreage.

  “Yes, I will.” Zenia took a deep breath. Was she shaken from that dream or trance or whatever it had been? “Give me a moment, please.”

  “Can I get you anything? Something to drink? To eat? The kitchen staff was awake and cooking when I went by on my way out.”

  “Maybe after this.” She smiled at him, but it seemed wan.

  Jev felt guilty for asking her to use the dragon tear again so soon after she’d experienced something that had disturbed her. “Never mind. We’ll ride out in that direction and look the old-fashioned way once we
hear back about those mages.”

  “It’s all right. It won’t take me long to check again.” Zenia smiled again and touched his jaw. “Besides, I like having you hold me.”

  “Oh? I’m willing to do that anytime, you know. Just come up and lean on me, and I’ll wrap my arms around you.”

  “Good to know.” Zenia took another deep breath, as if she were bracing herself for something painful, then closed her eyes.

  He frowned, wishing he hadn’t asked at all. He didn’t want her risking pain or discomfort simply to help him.

  “I sense them,” she whispered. “The dragon tear is familiar with Vornzylar now and can find him quickly. I just have to make sure he doesn’t sense me.”

  Jev’s frown only deepened. He feared the elves might be able to attack her somehow through her link with—

  Zenia gasped and stiffened in his arms. Her lips rippled back in pain.

  Damn it, why had he asked her to use the thing again?

  “Zenia?” Jev stroked her hair. “Come back to me. Forget it, all right?”

  Her knees buckled. If he hadn’t been holding her, she would have crumpled to the floor again.

  Zenia’s eyes flew open. Her hand jerked up, found his arm, and gripped it tightly. Her breathing came rapidly, as if she’d run a race.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered, knowing his request was the reason for her pain.

  “He sensed me.”

  “Vornzylar?”

  “Yes. He looked right at me, the same as last time. He touched his sword and—I’m not sure what exactly he did. Some kind of mental attack. Somehow, he was able to hurt me even across many miles.”

  “Then no more searching for him. Not that way. We’ll get some hounds if we need to find him.”

  “No need,” she whispered. Her face had grown ashen. “He and his three friends were on your property, standing in some trees across the pond from your castle and looking at it.”