Another guard bound my hands before the sword was lowered.
I was the first one marched off the ship and up the narrow path to the plateau. Up and up we went, past the main strip, which was mostly dark, and onto the cobbled street that led up the mountainside to Luthair’s residence. Lights burned in all of his windows as if he thought leaving the lamps on all night would scare away the beasts. If Aysche was right, though, he was opening his door to one right now.
My first thought, when I saw him standing in the light of his open door was that he looked tired. There were dark circles under his eyes, and his robe and hair were rumpled. In spite of this, he surveyed me and the rest of the fighters as coolly as ever.
“Take them to the inner barracks.” His eyes found me. “Except for Ms. Svand. She and I have much to discuss.”
I ground my teeth, resisting the urge to argue. When everyone else had left, my guard and I entered.
Luthair closed the door behind us with an ominous click that made me suddenly desperate to leave.
I turned my eyes to the giant window on the far wall but saw only my own reflection. “I’ll do my time.” I couldn't stand his silent contemplation any longer. “I won't fight you.”
He smiled, a look that sent chills down my spine, a look that told me he knew exactly what I wanted and that he wasn't going to give it to me. Not without something in exchange. He gestured to the guard behind me, a small twitch of his hand, but before I could turn to see what was happening, something slammed against the back of my head with a sickening thud. My vision went black, and I fought to stay on my feet, but it was useless. As I fell, toppling over like a blazetaur with no stinger, I gave into the darkness and knew no more.
Chapter 7
I balanced on the very edge of the rock, my toes digging into the mossy ground. Below me, waves crashed against the cliff of Bor’sur, trying and failing to topple the city that dared to reach into the sky. It was my favorite place, here, on the edge of the world. It felt like I could, at any moment, spread my wings and fly.
Behind me, my father’s voice. “Look up, my star. Don't forget to look up.”
I tilted my head back, and the whole sky opened up to me, so black it was almost blue, thousands and thousands of stars clustered together, winking back at me.
“They are the spirits of our ancestors, the ones who died fighting Dag’draath in the Dark War. They have blessed you, my star, and will always be there to guide you. Never forget to look up.”
I touched a finger to the mark beside my eye and thought of the D’ahvol who came before me, who faced down the God of Darkness himself and fought for Onen Suun. Fought to keep the world from plunging into the darkness. I could only hope to someday be as brave as them, to be worthy of their blessing.
Behind me, my father smelled of spices and leather and smoke. I breathed in deep and turned to him, only to find no one there. No one and nothing. Where the lights of Bor’sur should have been was only black shadow, dark tendrils climbing the cliff, reaching for me. Overhead, the stars were blinking out, one by one.
I jerked into consciousness, my eyes opening onto an unfamiliar room bathed in light. At first, it was a welcome relief not to be facing down the sentient darkness of my dream, but then the memory of the night before came rushing back.
The fight, the guards, Luthair and his sly grin.
I slowly pushed myself to sitting, taking in my surroundings. Stone walls and red drapes, a heavy wooden door across from me, and floor-to-ceiling windows on the eastern wall. I wasn’t in any normal holding cell at all. I was still in Luthair’s estate. It was the only building in town with this kind of view.
The thick quilt slipped down as I moved, and I yelped, surprised to find myself dressed in only a thin muslin shirt two sizes too big. When I stood, I clutched at the quilt, wrapping it around me. It was a poor excuse for my usual armor but certainly better than being half-naked.
Across the room, a basin of steaming water sat on the dresser, waiting for me. It unnerved me to realize someone had been in here, had stripped me of my clothes, and had seen me sleeping. They could have killed me, and I would have been none the wiser. Even worse, it could have been Luthair, gazing down at me while I was at my most vulnerable, eyes on my naked body. The thought sent chills down my spine that had nothing to do with the fresh air slipping in through the window panes.
The looking glass over the basin revealed more disturbing details. My face and hands and every other part of me had been scrubbed clean while I slept, and my hair had been washed and combed. It hung light and golden around my flushed face. My head throbbed, but if there’d been any blood from the impact, it had been washed away. All that was left was a tender lump at the back of my skull.
Securing the blanket around me with a knot, I scrubbed my hands in the warm water and splashed my face, clearing the sleep from my eyes. I needed to be awake to face Luthair when he arrived, whatever the reason for this lavish and unwelcome attention.
It was then that I spotted, over my shoulder in the mirror, my clothes folded neatly on a trunk at the foot of the bed. I dried my hands and picked them up, examining the clean clothes, smooth leather, and shining buckles. They'd been freshly laundered, and the leather armor oiled. As I slipped them on, it occurred to me that I hadn't been this clean in three years or more, certainly not since leaving the Western March. The only things missing were my weapons. The sword and its sheath were nowhere to be seen, and neither was my treasured ax. I swore to Oya, the Goddess of War, that I would strike Luthair down with my bare hands if he didn't return it to me before I left this island.
Near the hearth was a table set with a platter of cold breakfast foods—soft-boiled eggs, poached salmon, soft cheeses, and buttered toast. A far cry from Gerves’s leftover stews. I could see why Luthair had turned his nose up at the innkeeper’s offerings. Even though I ate my fill, I wondered what Luthair was playing at.
It wasn’t the first time he’d made an attempt to show me his softer side, to try to convince me he was anything less than a brute and a bully. He’d been decent at first, even kind at times, giving me and my sister food and shelter while the healer looked after our brother. But as I knew now, nothing Luthair did was for free. I’d heard Erik and Estrid once, back when Erik was still bedridden.
“He’ll release me of my debt if we give her to him,” Erik had said.
Estrid had made a low growl in her throat. “He wants to add her to his collection of pretty things. Lock her up in his tower on the mountain.”
“She could have a good life here.”
Here? I’d thought, realizing with a start that they were talking about me, discussing my future as if I had no say in it at all. Not likely. I had never been the kind of girl who cared for finery and comfort.
“Not the life she wants,” Estrid answered for me.
“She doesn’t know what she wants!” Erik grew louder, and I could hear Estrid murmuring gently to soothe him. “Look at what I’ve gotten her into on this, our first excursion.”
“The trip was my idea, so if anyone has gotten her into this, it’s me. No one blames you, but mark my words. If you sell her to this governor, she will never forgive you, and neither will I.”
I hadn’t really understood then, but I did now. Luthair had offered to release my brother from his life-debt in exchange for my hand in marriage. I was torn on the idea, bothered mostly by the fact that my siblings hadn’t even talked to me about it. But it had also been a chance for me to do something unselfish, something to save them for a change. On the other hand, I could barely stomach the idea of life here as the Lady Luthair. It was probably just as well that they’d made the decision for me.
Was that what this was now? Did Luthair think my affection could be won with comfort and good food? That I would marry him to avoid having to do time in the mines? If so, he was sorely mistaken. No, there was no amount of finery that would cause me to forgive the governor and what he'd put us through these last few years. Nothin
g he could say that would convince me to give up the rest of my life to him.
After I ate and still, no one had come, I found myself contemplating the door. There was only one in the room and it was shut tight. No amount of tugging moved it, and I picked at the iron lock to no avail. The window was even more hopeless, though the view was magnificent. Even if I could get it open, there was the straight drop down into Barepost to contend with.
Hours passed, the sun climbing higher into the sky. I had nothing better to do than watch it, my hands pressed to the glass, feeling it grow warmer. After midday, when the sun was no longer visible, I took a thin butter knife from the table and began to work at the wooden window frame, leveraging the knife against the wall and attempting to pry the wood away to free the glass. I didn’t know what I would do if it worked except breathe fresh air. All this time indoors was driving me mad, but I wasn't an avian who could just fly down the mountain, after all.
I had just popped a nail from the wall when the door behind me opened. I wheeled around, knife in hand, holding it before me as if it were a great sword.
Luthair stood in the open doorway, an amused smirk on his face. He looked like his usual self—well rested and groomed and smug. “Well, you do clean up nicely. I always expected as much, but it's good to have confirmation.”
I was nearly on top of him, the butter knife inches from his throat, when a guard caught me up, whirling me around and trapping my arms behind my back and knocking the knife to the floor. I hadn't seen him there or he wouldn't have been able to get the better of me. Panting, I jerked my arms just to keep him on his toes.
“Let her go,” Luthair said with a dismissive flick of his hand.
The guard did, and I stumbled away.
A serving girl came in behind them, wheeling a cart loaded with more food. My stomach growled greedily. I’d eaten more in one day than I had in the last week, and I still longed for more. She cleared the breakfast dishes and replaced them with two empty dinner plates. When she and the guard left, shutting the door behind them, Luthair took a seat at the table, his back to me, wholly unconcerned for his safety. I eyed the door, wondering if I could make a break for it.
“Don’t bother,” Luthair said without even looking at me. “It’s locked, and there is a guard on the other side if you do somehow manage to muscle your way out. Come, have a seat. We should talk.”
Everything inside of me fought against obeying him, but an even bigger part of me knew never to turn down a meal. I sat and began heaping my plate high with roast pork and vegetables and steaming dinner rolls.
He watched, his disgust at my manners plain on his face, and then shrugged, reaching for a dinner roll before I managed to eat them all. “What did you make of the Lady Trisfina and her sob story?”
I inhaled sharply, nearly choking on a pea. I coughed and took a gulp of water from the wooden cup set before my plate. “Who?”
“Quite the tale, isn’t it? An elf family in ruin. The only man who can save them locked away in the deepest bowels of a prison mine by a tyrant governor. Lovers, destined for doom.” The flat tone of his voice made it obvious he did not think much of the tale.
That was surprising. I don’t know how he knew, or how much he knew, but I wouldn’t give anything away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Ah, so you’re not going to try to free Arun Phina? What a relief. He’s become a huge asset in the mine, even more so than the one he bargained for. Leader of his group, even. I would hate to lose him.”
He knew. He knew everything. How was that possible?
Luthair chewed his food meticulously, giving me time to think, and then waved his knife in the air as if fanning away an unpleasant smell. “I’m not here to argue with you, though. I’m here to bargain with you. There are other options. Better options.”
“Better than what?” This should be good.
“Better than enslaving yourself to an elf family. You know they keep slaves, right? Don’t think your elf blood will help you. To them, the D’ahvol are no better than us lowly humans.” His words dripped with contempt, which I found strange considering he had basically enslaved me and my siblings without a second thought.
“The D’ahvol are no one’s slaves.” It was the truth. We were a fierce people, bred to fight and love ferociously, but always independently. Never at anyone else's beck and call.
He looked away, suddenly very interested in his food. “You could be . . . something else. You could help me govern Barepost at my side. You would never owe anyone anything ever again.”
I would sooner wrestle with a trithon. “The only bargain I’m interested in is you releasing us of Erik’s life-debt and letting us leave Barepost. All three of us.”
He dabbed the corners of his mouth with a napkin and took a sip of wine before responding. “Out of the question. A day will come soon when I will need the Svands for more than just pest control. But . . . perhaps I don't need all of them. I’m willing to offer you your freedom if you will abandon your quest to free Arun Phina. Do not start that war in my city. Do not make me do things that the people will regret.”
“What about Erik and Estrid?”
“Just you.” He shook his head. “The Gem sails tomorrow for Cliffside. You can be on that ship if you agree.”
For one shameful moment, I allowed myself to imagine it. The open sea, the wind on my face, Bruhier nothing but a speck in the distance. The dark forests of the lowlands and the towering spires of the elven city of Cliffside rising on the horizon. But I would be alone, and to leave without my siblings would be shameful. There would be nowhere I could go to escape that shame and loneliness.
“I won’t leave them.” I met his gaze. “I can’t.”
Luthair resumed eating, his plate nearly clean. “Well,” he said between bites, “I suppose it’s to the mines with you, then. Three days for brawling. Three days to really think it over.”
“I don’t have to think it over.” Three days to free Arun Phina and escape Barepost. I’d made a promise to Tsarra Trisfina and a promise to myself. I would get us off of this island.
“I suppose you’ll meet Arun Phina in the mines and that you’ll try to free him, but know this. If I lose him, I will have to replace him.” He looked thoughtful and then smiled at me. “Erik would make an excellent alternative. I would be glad to allow him to serve out the rest of the elf’s life sentence. And you and I both know that Erik will do it if I ask.”
He wasn't wrong. Whether he'd known what he was doing when he'd sent that team down the mountain for us three years ago and ordered his healer to do whatever it took to revive Erik, I'd never know. But the fact of the matter was, Luthair had saved Erik’s life, and in return, won himself a D’ahvol life-debt. Life-debts were sacred to my people. To break them meant never joining my ancestors in the sky, and instead, toiling for an eternity in the depths of Ash’gar. I had no doubt that Luthair would force Erik into the mines. How would I ever live with myself then?
But I also had no doubt that I could free Arun Phina, and I had my own promise to keep now. Not a life-debt, but I'd given my word to Tsarra Trisfina, and I intended to keep it.
Luthair spoke little after that, as if recognizing a lost cause when he saw one. After we ate, the same serving girl cleared the plates, and Luthair left with her, locking me in my luxurious cell.
“Enjoy it while you can,” he said on his way out. “You'll find that the mines are not so accommodating.”
But I couldn't enjoy it. The bed was too soft and the windows too bright, even here beneath the veil of clouds. Aupra and Gleet were both out tonight, bathing the room in their eerie blue and white lights. My dream from the night before came back to me in bits and pieces, but the clouds were too thick for any stars to shine through. It was easy to feel like I'd been forgotten by my ancestors, abandoned on this horrible island, left to my own dark fate.
Chapter 8
The next morning, I was roused from a restless sleep before the daw
n by rough hands dragging the covers away and pulling me to my feet. The woman was short and chubby, with round cheeks and curled silver hair. When I asked who she was, she told me to call her Missus and to stop asking so many questions. After my shirt was on, I reached for my leather armor.
Missus yanked it away. “No armor or weapons,” she croaked. “Governor’s orders.”
Of course. He would send me into the mines with nothing but the clothes on my back. It would make escaping with Arun Phina harder, but I enjoyed a good challenge. My ax, though—I would have to come back for it. I couldn't leave that piece of me behind.
I didn't see Luthair again as I was marched out of his estate and joined the other miners on their trek up the mountain. I drew some looks—understandable with my shackles and guards—but most people were so absorbed in their own misery that they ignored me.
“Frida!”
I turned to the voice. Erik was there with Estrid and Harbin, who had his pack on and looked ready to sail out on the Gem. A rope of dead fish hung on his belt, an offering to Sirsir, the god of mariners, for a safe passage.
“What did you do?” Erik asked, though I was sure Harbin had told him. He reached for me, and one of the guards pushed him back. He growled, but Estrid put a hand on his arm.
“Three days,” I said. “Be ready. Stay away from the governor.”
It was all I had a chance to say as we reached the mountain path and began to climb, each person looping a rope through a metal hook on their belt. I didn’t have one, but my guards did, and they secured me between them for the duration of the climb.
When we made it to the mine entrance about halfway up the cliff, we filed one by one inside the mine. It was a squat hole in the mountainside braced by massive wooden beams. Most of the day’s workers went into a tunnel on the right lined with lamps that shone on a wooden staircase leading gently downhill, but my guards tugged me left toward a set of iron tracks and a wooden cart.
Being the Suun Page 5
