they would not catch the elves, nor would they catch her. She ran.
Haern woke to the sound of his door opening. He looked up, the sleepiness in his head vanishing at the sight of Zusa standing there, her wrappings cut and torn, seemingly every inch soaked with blood.
“Zusa?” he asked, stumbling out of the bed. She took a limping step closer, then collapsed into his arms.
“They took her,” she said.
“Took her? Who? Alyssa? Who took her?”
Her fingers clawed against his chest, and her whole body shook. At first he thought it was weakness, maybe from blood loss, but when she looked into his eyes, he realized it was rage struggling to break free.
“The elves took Alyssa,” she said. “They’ll kill her. I know it. They’ll kill her, but I’ll make them pay. All of them, this whole damn city, will pay in blood.”
He held her close, and she pressed her bruised forehead against his chin.
“I don’t care if this city burns,” she said, her voice suddenly softening. “I just want her back. Please, that’s all I want. Without her…”
Haern wrapped his arms tighter, and she felt so small then, so close to breaking.
“We’ll find her,” he said. “All’s not lost yet. We’ll find her, save her. I promise.”
She pulled away.
“Don’t make promises you cannot keep,” she said, beginning to undress. “Now help me bandage these cuts, and quickly. If we’re to act, we have little time to spare. There’s only one place the elves would take her.”
“Where’s that?” he asked.
She gave him a look as if he were a simpleton.
“To their forest,” she said. “They’ll take her to Quellassar, and once there, not even the greatest army of man could save her from their blades.”
19
Alyssa awoke in the middle of the act of vomiting, her stomach heaving while her abdomen tightly cramped. Vertigo came next, the ground seemingly above her. Closing her eyes, she realized she was slung over someone’s shoulder. Soft whispers in a language she assumed was elvish came from either side of her. Daring to open her eyes once more, she saw they were running. With strange glee she noticed she’d vomited on her elven captor’s boots.
When she tried to look up, she felt pressure on both her neck and her wrists. They were tied together, she realized, with an intricate knot. Testing, she tried pulling her wrists apart, only to choke off her next breath. Struggling would be useless. Trying to relax, she looked up as much as she could without strangling herself, in a vain hope she’d recognize her surroundings. But there were no nearby buildings, no distinguishable landmarks. Instead she saw hills, and grass, and the occasional cluster of trees.
Her heart sank. The elves had captured her from her prison, knocked her unconscious, and then smuggled her out of Angelport. Whatever safety she might have known in her cell, it was gone.
“Where are you taking me?” she asked.
The elf tensed, and the sickening motion of his running halted. The ground pitched before her, and then she hit, having been unceremoniously dumped to the grass. She rolled over, forced to sit on her hands since they were tied low and behind her back. Three camouflaged elves gathered about her, two men and one woman. Their faces were painted in various shades of blacks and grays, their clothing dark and loose. They’d pulled off their hoods, though, and there was no mistaking the point of their ears.
“You have no right to ask questions,” said the one that had carried her. He was the tallest of the three, with long golden hair stretching to his waist.
“Why not?” she asked, knowing she had to get them talking if she were to have any hope.
“Does the butcher tell the pig where it’s going on the way to the slaughter?” asked the female.
“I am no pig.”
“I know others that might disagree.”
The third elf snapped at them in elvish, and the two fell silent. He was shorter than the female, with emerald eyes that were mesmerizing to behold. Alyssa tensed as he knelt before her and grabbed her chin with his fingers, tilting her head so she would look directly into his eyes.
“You are to be granted an audience no human deserves,” he said. “We will let you kneel in the presence of our princess, and hear her pronounce judgment against you for your crimes. You sent your pet after her, but we are no fools. We know the evil that lurks in mankind’s heart. Others may be naive enough to seek peace, but we are not. You will die, Alyssa. Your corpse will be burned, so perhaps your ashes will foster life in our forest to atone for your betrayal.”
He leaned closer, as if he were about to kiss her.
“That is, if we do not send your head back to the lords of Angelport so they know Celestia’s children will no longer suffer their foolishness and greed.”
Alyssa swallowed, and every bit of contempt her position had fostered over her lifetime surfaced to protect her with a strong mask.
“If your princess would be so foolish as to execute me, then prepare to be the last of Celestia’s children. War will follow, and make no mistake, your race will not survive.”
He gently cupped her cheek in his palm and smiled.
“Strong words,” he said. “Strong, hollow words. Stand up.”
Slowly she obeyed, grimacing at the aches in her lower back and legs. Stealing a glance behind her, she saw the fading lights of Angelport at least a mile in the distance. She’d hoped to be closer, and tried not to let the disappointment show. Still, no matter the distance, there was Zusa and Haern. They would find out at some point, though she could only guess when. Once they learned, they would come for her…but would she still be alive by then?
The elf with emerald eyes slashed the rope that bound her ankles tightly together, but left the others.
“Run if you wish,” he told her. “I would gladly accept a reason to kill you.”
Instead Alyssa stood as straight as her bonds allowed, refusing to let them defeat her in any way.
“Lead on,” she said. “I do not fear your princess, nor any fate she decrees.”
The tall elf laughed, and the female grabbed the severed rope at her feet. She looped it about Alyssa’s neck, and then held the end.
“Come, dog,” she said. “Stand proud if you wish. You will still arrive on a leash.”
They led her further from Angelport, toward a copse of trees that appeared to be growing about a pond. Every noise made Alyssa tense. Every shadow she hoped was Zusa peering out from the darkness. The rustle of leaves and grass in the wind was the Watcher’s approach. Yet on and on they walked, and no one came. As they neared the copse, Alyssa realized the pond was nothing but an illusion, and with each step it faded away, revealing a large tent built behind a roaring bonfire.
Several elves stood around it, but one in particular caught her eye. It was Laryssa, sitting beside the fire in an elegant dress. In the yellow light, Alyssa could see the bruises fading from her face, as well as a bulge in the side of her slender dress, no doubt from her bandages. Her skin had faded, looking pale and sickly. Alyssa’s heart ached, despite the false blame put upon her. To see a beautiful woman of noble birth beaten and marred in such a way felt vile and against all proper order of things. She could understand their anger as they led her toward the fire, but that did not change her mood. Her life depended on maintaining her composure, and convincing them of her innocence.
“Greetings, Lady Laryssa Sinistel,” she called out as the light of the fire reached her skin. “I heard you’d returned to Quellassar. Consider me both surprised and pleased to be a guest in your presence, as you were once a guest in mine.”
By the way Laryssa’s face twitched, she could tell the comment stung. Alyssa knew much of mankind’s traditions in court and nobility were based on the elves’ own culture, and to appear inferior in any way insulted their
