Elven Fury (Agents of the Crown Book 4) Page 21

  “I want to take them and Lornysh to the communication stone, yes, because that seems the most likely reason they would have come out here, but… I don’t know. It makes me uneasy that they were eyeballing my castle. Even if they weren’t, Targyon’s mages should—with luck—be on their way out. Someone will need to lead them to the stone if we haven’t come back. Rhi can stay with you. She should remember the way.”

  Zenia still thought it would be better if she went with Jev, as she couldn’t imagine what in Dharrow Castle would interest elves who had, by their own words, come here to kill Lornysh. She hoped he wasn’t trying to keep her out of the way to protect her. Thus far, he’d seemed to accept that she was, with the help of her dragon tear, as capable of surviving trouble as he was. Maybe he truly believed there was something that would interest elves in the castle. Or maybe he just had a hunch.

  “I’ll do as you wish, Jev,” she said.

  “That’s a good woman right there,” Cutter said. “You should make her something else, Jev.”

  “She’s wearing the necklace you helped me make.”

  “I see that. It’s pretty. But does she have a spice rack yet?”

  “She hasn’t requested one,” Jev said.

  “A woman shouldn’t have to request gifts. You have to be thoughtful and anticipate her needs.”

  “Is that what you’re doing for Master Grindmor?”

  “Yes, it’s why you haven’t seen me much since I started my apprenticeship. She requires a lot of anticipating.”

  Lornysh sighed noisily at the direction the conversation had taken.

  “You two, meet me in the trees over there.” Jev pointed. “I’ll talk to Krox, get some of his men, and ride over to join you.”

  Lornysh looked toward the soldiers glaring down the road at him. “I’ll take a circuitous route.”

  “Always advisable,” Cutter said.

  After Lornysh and Cutter turned off the road, Jev waved for Zenia to walk back to the others with him. He looked like he might touch her shoulder, but he must have noticed the shield. Zenia willed the dragon tear to lower it. Heber and his men were glaring at Lornysh as he rode across the field. Apparently, an elf irritated Jev’s father more than a former inquisitor did.

  “I’m not trying to get you out of the way, Zenia,” Jev said. “If we find the elves first, I’m hoping your dragon tear will know, and you can rush out to help us. I’m just not positive there isn’t some old artifact in the bowels of Dharrow Castle that the elves believe might be useful. After all, my mother had that tie to elves. As did some of my ancestors.”

  “It’s fine, Jev. I’ll stay. Just don’t get yourself killed without me.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it. I definitely want you there if I’m going to get myself killed. So you can hold my head and kiss me as I lie dying.”

  “We already did something like that. I appreciated that you lived.”

  “I’m amenable to living. And finding a way to marry you.” He smiled, even though Heber had shifted his glare back to them. The woman—Zyndari Bludnor—was watching them and glaring too.

  They weren’t doing anything except walking shoulder to shoulder and speaking, but maybe they looked like a couple as they did it. Zenia refused to step away from Jev. She had the petulant urge to clasp his hand, but she refrained. He did pat her on the shoulder before trotting over to speak with Krox.

  Zenia’s stomach knotted at the idea of talking to Bludnor and Heber. Maybe that was the real reason she’d been so eager to go with Jev, to avoid that confrontation.

  “I don’t feel particularly welcome here,” Rhi said when Zenia joined her.

  “Then you’ll be excited to hear that we’re staying here while Jev takes half the men to that elf stone you visited.”

  “No, I won’t.”

  “What if I let you kick Heber into the fountain again?” Zenia smiled, though it was a joke. She would feel she had failed utterly if she and Rhi ended up in a fight against Jev’s father, verbal or physical.

  “That might be somewhat exciting.”

  Zenia watched as Jev, the lieutenant, and twenty-five of Krox’s men headed across the field toward the trees where Cutter and Lornysh had already disappeared. Aware of Heber and the zyndari woman continuing to glare at her, Zenia wished she were going with them.

  14

  “Can you tell if they’re nearby?” Jev asked quietly.

  He, Cutter, and Lornysh were leading the way through the tree-filled and undergrowth-clogged gully, the twenty-five soldiers crunching and snapping foliage as they tramped behind them. Grunts and curses flowed from the men’s mouths. If the elf wardens were here, there was no way this group would sneak up on them.

  “I can’t sense them anywhere within miles,” Lornysh said, “but they’re powerful enough that they could be camouflaging themselves from me. They are…” He spread a hand, the sunlight making it through the leaf canopy dappling his palm. “I told you my story. I didn’t finish the warden training. I was making good progress and was awarded my sword, but I had another five years left to achieve mastery over the magic that wardens are taught.”

  Now that Lornysh had shared his background with Jev, he was more open about discussing his past—and his failings. Jev had half-expected Lornysh wouldn’t remember that he had, under the influence of that painkiller, spoken of it all. Jev was still reeling from the revelations. He never would have guessed that Lornysh had a tiny amount of human blood flowing through his veins or that such a small amount would truly matter to his people. Jev could see it disqualifying someone from taking the throne, but for them to kick him completely out of their city over it? He shook his head.

  “I haven’t seen any fresh prints.” Lornysh waved to the rocks and mossy earth they were walking over, most of it a dried creek bed. Water had been flowing the last time Jev had been this way, but spring had shifted to summer, and it hadn’t rained much lately. “But it’s also possible they could pass without leaving trace.”

  “I do so love dealing with elves.”

  Lornysh headed up an animal trail that led away from the dried creek, and the trees grew higher, the canopy blocking out more of the daylight. Jev spotted the ancient stone up ahead, almost like a ten-foot-tall mushroom with an umbrella-like structure that flared out at the top. It glowed a soft yellow, gently warming the mossy ground with its light.

  Lornysh stopped and frowned at the stone.

  “It wasn’t glowing the first time we walked up on it,” Cutter said. “Not until you started fondling it.”

  Jev remembered it glowing, but he also remembered that Lornysh and Cutter had found it on their own before bringing him to it. They had to be referring to that experience.

  “It’s possible someone was already here.” Lornysh trotted toward the stone.

  “And sent a message to your people?” Jev asked. “To other members of their faction? Do you think they would have called for reinforcements?” Jev almost fell over as the thought came to mind. How many more elven wardens might Vornzylar be able to bring to Kor?

  “There’s no way to know who they spoke to or what they said.” Lornysh walked slowly around the structure.

  The soldiers caught up to them, muttering and touching their weapons as they stared at the blatantly magical stone.

  “What does it do?” Lieutenant Cark asked.

  “As far as I know, it’s for communication,” Jev said. “Wait here, please. And have the men keep their ears open. It’s possible our elven enemies will show up to try and finish off Lornysh while he’s wounded.” He waved for the men to stay back, worried Lornysh wouldn’t speak as openly if they were within hearing range.

  Jev and Cutter walked up to the stone and waited. Lornysh was looking at the ground around it, seeking evidence that someone had been here earlier.

  Jev eyed the stone cairn beyond an ancient bench facing the communication stone. The last time he’d been here, he hadn’t known who was buried under it. It chilled him now that he k
new his mother’s bones lay under the rocks and that she’d been shot by her own mother, to keep her from running off with some elf lover.

  Somehow, Jev doubted the humans of Kor would be any more understanding than the Taziir if they learned that their king’s heir had elven blood. For Targyon’s sake, Jev hoped he wasn’t falling in love with the elven princess, for nothing could ever come of it. Nothing open, anyway. Jev couldn’t imagine Targyon having an elven mistress while he married an appropriate zyndari woman for the public. Nor could he imagine the noble Princess Yesleva engaging in some secret relationship against the wills of both their nations.

  “Sometimes, I wonder why people make everything so complicated,” Jev said, feeling morose.

  Cutter looked like he would respond, perhaps by suggesting more people should make spice racks for each other, but Lornysh returned, and he held his tongue.

  “I found sign of several animals that have been through recently,” Lornysh said, “and there’s a faint indentation over there by the bench that may have come from an elven moccasin.”

  “Recently?” Jev asked.

  “Yes. The fact that the stone is activated means it either anticipated our approach or… someone was here less than an hour ago.”

  Jev looked sharply at him. “How likely is the former?”

  “It didn’t activate the first time I showed up, not until I touched it.”

  “And nobody has touched it yet.”

  “No.”

  Jev eyed the runes carved into the glowing stone. “Is there any way to ask it if it was used? And by whom?”

  Lornysh smiled sadly. “It’s not that sophisticated. Zenia’s dragon tear might have been able to ferret out the information.” He tilted his head. “Why did you leave her behind?”

  “Most of my family is inside that castle. My father’s being an overbearing jerk, especially right now, but the staff, and my cousins and aunts and their children, they’re all good people. I want someone there who can protect them. I also want someone who can keep an eye on my father since he’s being manipulated right now.”

  “Manipulated?” Cutter asked.

  “By a zyndari woman, the mother of the girl my father agreed to engage me to. Bludnor probably only wants to make sure the wedding goes forward, and that’s why she’s here, but—disgustingly—I think she’s sleeping with my father too. One wonders what her husband thinks of that.”

  “While I sympathize with your domestic problems,” Lornysh said, “I fail to see how it’s relevant to the elf problem. My problem.”

  “It’s probably not, but I could see her urging my father to do something stupid like shoot at you.” Grudgingly, Jev admitted he could see the old man shooting at Lornysh whether Bludnor was around or not.

  “I’ll avoid them.”

  “If those wardens already showed up—” Cutter prodded the stone, “—is there any point in staying out here?”

  “Bait.” Lornysh eyed Cutter’s finger, as if offended that he’d poked the stone without proper reverence. “As I said before, they’re after me. I may not know where they are, but it’s likely they know where I am.”

  “So we should prepare to make a stand?” Jev asked.

  Lornysh gazed into the surrounding brush, though there wasn’t a breeze and the leaves weren’t stirring. “If you prefer this to the castle. We can stand with our backs to the stone and hope we have enough men to overcome whatever magic they throw at us.”

  “Seems like a castle would be a better place to be ensconced if there’s going to be a siege,” Cutter said.

  Jev blew out a slow breath, again thinking of all his family living inside, including at least a dozen children. He didn’t want to bring a battle to the castle, especially not a magical battle. Those elves had raised a shadow golem in the middle of the embassy, and there was no reason they couldn’t do the same thing in Dharrow Castle courtyard.

  “Let’s wait here for now,” Jev said. “Can you set some traps that they might stumble into?”

  Lornysh’s eyes brightened. “I did attend all three years of woodland crafts during my training.”

  “Is that the class where you learn to make traps?”

  “It is.”

  “Let us know how we can help.” Jev pointed at his chest and waved at the milling troops.

  “Stay out of the way.” Lornysh jogged off, disappearing into the foliage.

  “Cutter,” Jev said, “can you make any special dwarven traps?”

  “Good dwarven traps rely on metal and forges, not twigs and leaves, but I’ll see what I can do.”

  “Thank you.”

  Jev looked around the clearing, hoping the elves would indeed be lured to this place—and hoping his team had resources enough to battle them. He also hoped Vornzylar hadn’t used the stone to request reinforcements. Jev tried to reassure himself that, even if he had, it would take days for more elves to arrive.

  The drawbridge of Dharrow Castle was raised after Zenia, Rhi, Captain Krox and his soldiers, and Heber Dharrow and his men entered the courtyard. Guards walked along the ramparts, hands on their weapons as they peered out over the cleared fields around the castle.

  “Are you going to talk with the woman glaring at you now or after she does something nefarious?” Rhi asked, joining Zenia near the fountain.

  Zenia had chosen the spot so she would be out of the way. Dharrow Castle was a large rambling structure of several stories, but it wasn’t as large as the king’s castle, and the courtyard felt busy with all the soldiers and many of the local men milling around.

  “I’m hoping to ignore her.” Zenia was aware of the zyndari woman—she’d gone to put on a dress and had returned recently—standing in a doorway and watching as Heber discussed who knew what with Krox. Judging by the way they were gesturing toward the castle walls, they disagreed with Jev’s suggestion to stay put.

  “She looks like she’s plotting something,” Rhi said. “Want me to thump her?”

  “She’s zyndari.”

  “So? I’m only allowed to thump commoners?”

  “Technically, you’re not supposed to thump anyone without provocation.”

  “That glare is definitely provocative.”

  Zenia wrapped her fingers around her dragon tear. She would talk to the zyndari woman eventually, but she was more worried about those elves, especially now that Jev had gone off without any magical protection, other than what the injured Lornysh could call upon.

  She closed her eyes and thought of the vision her dragon tear had shared that morning, of the elves watching the castle from afar.

  Do you know what they wanted? she asked silently, hoping the gem would understand.

  But she received the mental equivalent of a shrug. Hm.

  Is there anything in the castle that could interest elves? Something magical?

  The dragon tear showed her the hidden vault in Jev’s grandmother’s crafts room. It was dark and dusty, apparently not having been disturbed since the woman had been exiled. The vision shifted, showing her the inside of the vault and the dragon tears inside.

  Thanks, but I knew about those magical items. Anything else?

  Zenia tried to envision glowing artifacts. She had no idea what type of magical item might be here, but she needed to communicate in a way the dragon tear would understand. It didn’t seem to speak the kingdom tongue. It never responded with words, only with emotions or images, so she assumed it responded to her emotions and the images she conjured in her mind.

  A triumphant feeling came from the dragon tear. Because it understood? Or because it understood and had something for her?

  She rose onto the balls of her toes and tightened her grip on the gem, hoping for enlightenment.

  Rhi elbowed her. “Trouble coming.”

  Zenia shook her head, keeping her eyes shut, not wanting to pull her attention from the dragon tear. In her mind’s eye, she left the courtyard, her point of view again from above, as if she were flying. She swept through familiar ston
e passageways toward the kitchen and laundry rooms in the back of the castle, but then she descended stairs she hadn’t been down before. She passed a wine cellar, storage rooms, and a dungeon and interrogation chamber with tools far dustier than anything in the grandmother’s suite. She hoped that meant that the Dharrows hadn’t needed to interrogate anyone for many, many generations.

  A hidden door opened in the back of the dungeon, cobwebs falling to the ancient stone floor. Her vision took her down dark stairs caked with dust and through passages built at the beginning of the thousand-year-old castle’s history, or maybe before. A rockfall lay ahead, but somehow the vision pushed between the rocks and into more dark passageways beyond it. A dark chamber lay ahead, and she sensed something magical lay within it.

  “What can we do for you, Zyndari? Zyndar?” Rhi asked loudly, elbowing Zenia again. “Wake up,” she hissed.

  Zenia hadn’t yet seen what the dragon tear wished to show her and didn’t want to push away the vision, but Rhi gripped her shoulder and shook her. The vision dissipated, and Zenia growled in frustration as she opened her eyes.

  Heber Dharrow and Zyndari Bludnor stood in front of her.

  “What magic are you employing, woman?” Heber demanded.

  Bludnor squinted at Zenia. Her fingers were wrapped around her own dragon tear, and once again, Zenia saw a faint tendril of energy tethering Heber to her—to it.

  “I’m trying to figure out what the enemy elves may be seeking inside your castle. And my name is Zenia Cham.” She made herself curtsey and add, “It’s good to meet you again, Zyndar Dharrow.”

  “I know your name. I will speak with you in private.” Heber glared at Rhi and at the fountain gurgling beside her, maybe fantasizing about kicking her in as payback. “Now.”

  “Zenia?” Rhi asked, not budging.

  Did “in private” mean with his zyndari puppet master standing beside him? Zenia gave Bludnor a pointed look.

  “My son asked for this,” Heber told the woman. “Leave us for a few minutes, please.”