If the elf could have pressed herself through the bars, she likely would have. “Yes, oh, yes, Dhone. Please tell me. I must hear it.”
“I am a princess.”
Awin gasped.
“I was bound for Abhainnbaile to speak on behalf of my father. He is a mighty King, Awin. He wishes us to have peace and wished to help against the horsefolk!”
Aile could not imagine a more ridiculous thought. No King of the Blackwood would ever send so much as a malformed fetus to the aid of the elves.
“Oh no! And we have you here in this cell!”
Aile nodded. “He will be most cross. And I must go back to him Awin. If…” She paused.
Awin shook with anticipation. She could hold herself no longer. “If, if, if?!”
“If I… took you with me, together. He might show mercy on my captors. He would surely let you stay with me there, forever.”
The elf fell back onto her arse, knocking the plate she’d left and spilling it onto the cellar floor. Her eyes had gone to some other place and her mouth hung open, motionless. “To… to… you mean… I…”
“It is only a small Kingdom. We have little. But you would be welcome. Like a sister.”
“A sister… the Blackwood…”
“Awin?”
She shook her head clear and came back to the bars. “I… how… how can I help you? Now? Can we go now?”
“No. Kings are jealous. Very jealous. You must wait until they are all asleep and come to release me. Are there keys?”
She nodded excitedly. “Yes, yes. Tramman and those two…” She turned her head toward the door. “They get cross when I don’t listen to them, but they sleep heavy. I know, I snuck in for tricks one night.”
“Tricks? I do love tricks!”
“Oh, me too. Dhone, I love you, I love you. We will go tonight?”
Aile nodded. “We will, Awin. When everyone sleeps, come and let me from the cell. We will steal away before they wake. Oh!” She put her hands to her cheeks as stupidly as she’d seen elves do so many times when they remembered some not-at-all bad piece of information. “But my coin.”
Awin made a troubled face. “Tramman has it. He has it all. And he does not sleep heavy like the others.”
“Do not worry, Awin. My beautiful, kind Awin. We will find a way. So long as we are together.”
“Yes, yes!” Awin put her hand through the bars and Aile took it in her own and kissed it. The girl shuddered in delight from the gesture. She squealed and pulled the hand to her chest. “Together, together.”
Awin turned, scrambling past the plate, leaving it where it stood. Aile called to her.
“Awin.” The girl stopped dead and looked. Aile held a finger to her lips. Awin mimicked the gesture, grinning feverishly, and then left.
Aile took the plate and threw it out into the cellar. There was a horrible taste in her mouth which had nothing to do with the food. She could scarcely believe the conversation had gone as it had. There was now naught to do but wait and see what came of those empty words. If they did not work this night, then perhaps the next.
Another sleepless night began to stretch itself out. The lack of food had become more of a bother than the rest. The time passed slowly, her Fire nudging itself around in her mind but still not willing to come to her hands. She was rubbing at the stiffness that remained in her muscles when she heard the quiet creaking of the cellar door and waited for footsteps. If the girl had been caught, they likely came to punish her.
The footsteps were too light to be heard, but a loose step gave away the movement as the flicker of a candle came into view. Aile watched intently. Awin. The foolish thing had come bearing keys. She beamed from behind the pale light.
“I have come, Dhone! We will go, won’t we? To the Blackwood…”
Aile nodded. “We will. We will only stop to sleep and to eat. My father will be so pleased he may make you a princess as well!”
The words drew a visible jitter of excitement and the girl rushed to her cell door. Aile crouched as she fumbled with the keys, lifting the sharpened pestle and putting it behind her back. The girl opened the door and stepped in.
“Oh Dhone, I am so excited. Should I have packed any clothes?”
“No,” she said, letting her voice free of the vacuous tone she’d given the girl for too long. “You will not need them.”
“Dhone?”
The rock pushed through the girl’s throat as a stake pushed into hard earth. It did not wish to go, but Aile had enough strength now to force it. Awin, the false Drow child, flailed at her. She grasped the empty air, her face a mess of terrified confusion. No sound came from her mouth, only a sickly scrape as the pestle was pulled about by the muscles in her throat. Aile moved past the dying elf to the door, pulling it shut behind as she went. She heard frantic scratching at the floor as she opened the crate. Enough moonlight came into the cellar to show that it held her blades and her leathers. She dressed, not wishing to stay any longer than she must. If the girl had minders or slept with others, they might notice her missing.
She came up the stair, standing in the open field at the top. She saw the clearing for the first time with clear eyes. The field was circled by trees and houses had been built there. Simple ones. Only one was larger than the others. Tramman’s no doubt. She went to it and opened the door. It had no lock. As the door closed she heard a voice from the far corner of the room. One she had heard before, in the cellar.
“Inre, the child… have you killed her?”
She looked and saw a man there.
