“Worthless,” Aelswith agreed. “I can’t even sell her. I’ve tried.”
I looked at Nyalla in surprise. My scan had not revealed any particular mental defects. At Aelswith’s words, her face flashed with anger and hatred, before hardening into stubborn resignation.
“So what do you have her do?” I wondered.
Aelswith shrugged. “Clean. By hand, as she has no magical ability. She ensures the waste disposal system is in order and is sanitary and occasionally assists in laundry.”
Ugh. Not exactly a dream job for a young woman. I shook my head, unable to think of anything else that might help me track down this hybrid. Taullian thanked Aelswith for his time, and Aelswith went into a boring, flowery speech about his loyalty to the kingdom. Nyalla’s eyes strayed from their downward position and met mine. Her lips twitched into a quick grin, and she winked, immediately returning to her previous submissive posture. There was no way a baby could have fudged the extensive magic tests, but this woman was clearly resisting the will of her master the only way she could. I was filled with admiration for her passive–aggressive ways. Clever. Not at all an idiot.
We left and proceeded to walk through a series of doors and up a spiral staircase to another room. It didn’t seem to be a jail cell. It was small but comfortable—the elf woman inside, Tlia–Myea, clean and composed. Her scant silk clothing was intricately embroidered with silver thread, and gold chains draped across her bare skin. Golden hair in a series of braids rose from her high forehead to fall behind her ears and down her back to her waist. Her flawless complexion was the color of cream, and her eyes as she turned to meet my gaze were the deepest indigo. She didn’t look like a deprived, tortured prisoner. She looked like a privileged noble relaxing and enjoying the view from the tower’s narrow windows.
His lordship ushered me in through an open doorway. “I’ll leave you two alone. Just come down when you’re through. And try not to injure or kill her.”
I waited for his footsteps to fade. “Doesn’t seem much like a cell,” I mentioned, walking to a window and looking out. “You could just walk right out of here.”
“And go where?” Her voice was tired, defeated. “Cyelle is my home.”
She didn’t appear to be the type who would be seduced by an Incubus, even one as tempting as Leethu. Of course, none of the elves did. They were elegant, friendly but remote. I couldn’t see any of them overcome by passion.
“Did the Incubus appear to be an elf—one from another kingdom, foreign and mysterious? Or in the form of a friend of yours that you’ve secretly longed for?”
Tlia–Myea turned her face from me and I couldn’t tell if it was from embarrassment or an attempt to hide her expression. “I didn’t recognize him. I had suffered a disappointment, one of many, and he offered me much–needed compassion. By the time I discovered he wasn’t an elf, it was too late.”
“He raped you?” I asked, alarmed. Leethu was in enough shit without adding this to her rap sheet.
“No. I mean I had let my guard down, and we were in the act. I was stunned. Mortified. I just let it continue in the hopes I could cover it up afterwards. Pretend it never happened.”
“But you were pregnant.”
She nodded, her face still turned away. “I thought about bringing death to the baby, but I just couldn’t do it. I had been intimate with elves too, and if I had killed an elf child….” she choked on the last words and covered her face.
Many elves miscarried or remained barren. I could understand her hesitation. It was better to be cautious, since this could be her only pregnancy.
“The baby was born live?”
She nodded, pulling her hands away from her face. “The midwife and I knew it was demon spawn and we killed it. She signed the changeling form and took the body for preparations. I arranged for my human to handle the exchange, instructing him that I wanted to know nothing about it, that he should tell no one.”
Her voice shook, and she covered her face again. Possibly her only live birth, and it was demon spawn. I was surprised she hadn’t killed herself from the shame and depression.
“Who was the midwife?”
She turned to look at me, her jaw firm. “I will not disclose that. I’ve destroyed that paperwork. I don’t care if it means my death. She helped me, kept my secret all these years.”
“But if she can confirm the child is dead, His Lordship will call off the hunt.” Of course that would mean I wouldn’t have a job to do in return for getting Haagenti off my tail forever.
“He wouldn’t believe her. He is furious I kept it hidden for so long, convinced that I’ve lied and the abomination is still alive. Plus she will be punished, and I refuse to have such loyalty rewarded with death.”
“Why aren’t you dead?” I wondered out loud.
“In case I need to be interrogated for further information. I’ll be killed once the baby’s body is found.”
“You could jump,” I mentioned, looking out the window. Suicide might be preferable than giving these elves the satisfaction of an execution.
She shot me a startled glance. “Demons,” she said in disgust.
“And the human who did the exchange is dead. Convenient.”
She glared at me. “I would hardly keep him alive to blackmail me. I’m not stupid.”
“Stupid enough to be seduced by an Incubus.”
“We’re not immune to your charms. We have moments of weakness; longings. Some of us more than others.”
I wondered at that statement. The only weakness I’d ever seen elves show was over their children. I couldn’t see them swayed by the promise of sexual delights, and as good as Leethu was, she was a bit of a one trick pony.
“Why did a demon accompany your human servant on the exchange? The elf who bought the changeling rights said a demon delivered his purchase.”
A kind of wariness flitted across her face. She paused. “I had the demon kill my human on the other side of the gates once he’d exchanged the babies. It was the best way to ensure his silence. The demon brought back the human infant.”
“Awesome. Who is the demon? He can collaborate your story.”
Her jaw clenched, her eyes hardened. “I have no idea. You all look the same, and you constantly change shapes. Half of you share the same name. It was just a onetime deal with some random demon.”
It was believable. A demon wouldn’t have really cared about the details of the job, or Elven politics. He would have waited for the human servant to return with an infant, off the guy, and then bring the infant back where directed. Easy job, easy money—certainly not worth bothering about motives or the reasoning behind it.
“What was your human’s name? If he was killed among the humans, I might be able to find his burial site.”
She started in surprise, her eyes wide with a sudden flash of fear. “I … I don’t remember. It was a long time ago, and he was just a human.”
I frowned. That was odd. She should have said ‘Bob something’ or ‘we called him Sticky’. He had been her human. Instead she floundered and denied remembering it, dismissing him abruptly as ‘just a human’. This one had been loyal, entrusted with her secret—a secret he supposedly died for. Why hadn’t the fierce devotion that made her withhold the midwife’s name been extended to the human? Yes, humans were of no more value than animals, but they were expensive animals. Their ownership conveyed status to the elves. Why hadn’t she remembered his name?
“Thank you for your time,” I told her, as I turned and strode out of the room. Her anxiety filled the space behind me.
His Lordship was downstairs. Waiting.
“What’s the human’s name? The one she says she killed.”
He frowned. “I’ll get it to you. Why? There wouldn’t be any records on your side beyond his childhood ones.”
“I’m curious. He was killed on the other side of the gates, so maybe he was buried near where the exchange was made.” Hopefully he wasn’t buried as a John Doe, although even
that might be a place to start. There couldn’t be that many John Does in the area I’d be searching.
He shrugged and led me down toward the courtyard, where Diablo awaited me. “I’ll get you the name. We keep records of these things, so it should be readily available.”
“How easy is it for a human to cross a gate?” I asked, curious. “I know they can’t activate them. Are the gates guarded? Do the humans need written permission or are they entrusted with some kind of activation device?”
“Those with trusted humans can send them to and fro as they wish. They are given an activation key. They own their humans, so any misdeeds would reflect on the owner. It would be a terrible waste of resources to have a continuous guard on our gates. Instead, they have a triggering mechanism that alerts area scouts to come collect any visitors.”
“Do those scouts keep records of who comes through the gates? New humans? Currently owned humans who are returning from an errand?”
“Yes.”
“If you could also find out when this human of Tlia–Myea’s went through the gate to do the changeling swap, that would narrow down my window of time considerably.”
He nodded then stopped abruptly and handed me a small, round object. “I have a transport button for you. When you find the demon spawn, you can use it to return here.”
I appreciated the gift. I could hardly keep trespassing on Wythyn land, and the other gates would be watched by demons who were just waiting to hand me over to Haagenti. Clearly Taullian knew this and wanted to ensure I wasn’t waylaid while delivering on his request.
If Tlia–Myea was telling the truth and there was a dead hybrid baby, and if I could narrow down the window of time, and perhaps tighten the search radius to where the human was killed, success would be a possibility. I’d probably only have five or six graves to search. I could bang that out in a couple of evenings with Boomer’s help.
But if Taullian’s hunch was right and there was a live hybrid roaming among the humans, then a lot would hinge on whether the human servant was dead or not. Dead servant—I’d be in Haagenti’s hands before I managed to sort through tens of thousands of young females. A live servant would be better. I needed to find the human, get him to give up the info on the hybrid and find the young woman and drag her back dead or alive to collect my reward.
I was really, really hoping it was the former. The idea of having to grab a hybrid that had grown up considering herself a human girl wasn’t appealing.
“I can’t believe an elf was actually seduced by a demon. Seems totally out of character for you guys,” I commented casually.
His shoulders tightened. “We have moments of weakness,” he said, echoing the woman in the tower.
“And to carry the baby to term, only to kill it?” I shook my head. “Also seems out of character. How could she bring herself to kill a baby after a long pregnancy and holding the infant in her arms? I know how crazy you guys are about babies of all kinds. You’re all like a fucking Disney movie.”
“It was demon spawn,” he said, his voice a little too offhand. “Killing it wouldn’t involve an ethical dilemma. No more so than killing a rat that was soiling your grain.”
Diablo awaited me in the courtyard, casting longing glances back at the stable. He wouldn’t be thrilled to be back in the company of Piper and Vegas after hanging with such exalted equines. A groom held him while I climbed into the saddle.
“I would avoid that narrow strip of demon land,” the lord cautioned. “I’ve been told it is wall to wall with assassins after last night.”
Great. I’d need to go around which would put me through a kingdom I didn’t know and through Wythyn with the lord who kept losing his sorcerers. Luckily I was on good terms with him.
“What’s the scoop on the kingdom adjacent to you?” I asked. I hoped they were friendly.
“Tonlielle. Lady Moria’s kingdom. We’ll escort you to the border and she should allow you passage. You’ll be on your own after you leave our lands though. You’ll need to go through a short stretch of her kingdom, and then a really long stretch of Wythyn to get to the gate where you came in. We’re not on good terms right now with them, so you might get a rather rude reception.”
“Where is your gate?” I asked hopefully.
“Argentina.” Shit. That was just too damned far. “The Tonlielle gate is currently in Indonesia.”
Fuck. Even further. I guess it was the Wythyn gate then. I wished for a moment I could just cut through demon lands and use the gate not far from here. So close, but there was no way I could hack my way through a forest of assassins to get there. I nodded to his lordship and set out with my band of escorts.
9
I could feel them behind me, all around me. In the trees, hidden by deadfall, blending into the foliage like only elves could. Diablo’s ears swiveled, quickly shifting between nervous and excited. There had been a river to cross on the Tonlielle and Wythyn border that had required I journey north, even further out of my way. I had a huge section of Wythyn land to traverse before I reached the gate; and they were watching. I was a demon, a trespasser, and I wasn’t sure my past relationship with their lord would keep them from trying to haul me in. They might not even recognize me.
I bided my time, poised for action. Diablo felt my tension, and his mood weighed heavier on the nervous side. I hoped they’d call out, confront me so I could beg passage. It would cost me a favor, but I’d grant it. Instead, the forest was silent, the air still. Maybe they just intended to follow me, to make sure I didn’t cause any problem and left their kingdom peacefully. I tried to look harmless. It wasn’t easy for a demon.
I heard a faint sound, like a note on a guitar, and managed to duck as an arrow whispered by my head to thunk into a tree trunk. My heart raced at the near miss, and I dropped low over the horse’s neck to try and present a smaller target. Diablo took off like a shot. I didn’t discourage him. In fact, I dug my heels high into his flanks to drive him forward and held on tight.
With no more need for stealth, the woods erupted around me, elves materializing from everywhere. The elves on foot shot arrow after arrow. The air was thick with lethal barbs and I hugged close to Diablo’s neck, no fucking idea where he was running. One arrow tore a groove on the edge of my shoulder, and another grazed my leg. My eyes blurred with pain, my shoulder burning and dripping blood down my arm, my leg feeling strangely numb. They were shooting enhanced arrows. A few more and I’d fall right off the horse. I held on as best I could with the numbness spreading up my leg and urged Diablo onward.
Elves are fast, but Diablo was faster. We outpaced the ones on foot and I glanced behind to see what I was up against. I counted seven, moving at speed on their finest horses. The few with bows were able to use them while tearing full–tilt through the forest on a horse. I was barely able to hold on at this point, my leg useless and my shoulder screaming in pain. I turned to face forward, hoping to guide Diablo back onto a path toward the gate. It was gamble, but as a demon hybrid, he had stamina and there was a chance he could outlast them: unless they continued to shoot me. A solid shot with those enhanced arrows would more than knock me off my horse. It would drop me into unconsciousness for a few seconds, which would be long enough for one of them to put a more substantial restraint on me.
Branches raked at my skin as Diablo went off the trail and plowed through thick brush and clusters of trees. I smacked my numb knee on a sapling and heard an unpleasant crack. Good thing I was a demon and could fix it on the fly.
“Hit the horse,” I heard one shout.
“No! Spare the horse. He’s demon spawn,” another shouted back.
Another arrow seared my shoulder and I slumped, numb, over Diablo’s neck. Somehow I managed to stay on and shake off the effects. Another arrow whizzed past my ear. Even with Diablo’s speed, they were closing in. Their knowledge of the forest allowed them to accelerate where Diablo needed to look ahead and plan his path. Another arrow shot by. I wasn’t going to make it. I could
easily take them out with a burst of energy, but then it would be war. Even though they were shooting at me, I was a trespasser on their land and their attack was far from lethal. They were clearly trying to capture me without harm, and without harm to Diablo.
I glanced up and saw the tree trunk right before my face hit. Everything went black for a second. It was long enough. Flying off the back of Diablo, I slid along the rocks and branches, hooves dangerously close to my face. The elves couldn’t slow in time. They yelled as they tried to weave their horses around my tumbling form. I managed to not get kicked, but hitting a tree at top speed had done plenty of damage. Two arrows thudded into my leg, and then I felt a net holding me immobile as the elves in the lead turned their horses back and dismounted.
“Grab her horse,” one said.
“He’s gone. By the Lady above, I’ve never seen an animal move that fast. He vanished right before my eyes.”
“He teleports!” another elf said, in admiration.
“We’ll get him later, once he calms down. We’ll bring out a couple of mares to help bring him in.”
I felt myself dragged along the forest floor, like a deer carcass, and through a gate to a cool marble floor. Restrained and blind, I was unable to use my stored energy. I knew from experience that anything I tried to shoot would just bounce off the net and back to me or dissipate.
“You could have let her fix herself first,” a voice complained.
The elves released me from their net, and I stood. I was seriously fucked up. I’d fixed the knee earlier, only to have it smashed again from my tree impact. That wasn’t all. Dislocated shoulder, abrasions on my chest and arm, and bruises forming all down my leg combined with the arrow wounds. The whole left side of my body was battered. My face was worse—having taken the primary impact, and my nose and cheekbone were full of jagged bits of bone. My forehead throbbed with what I’m sure was a hideous purple lump and concussion. I wondered how bad the tree looked.
Elven Blood (Imp Book 3) Page 10
