The elf had inched back when I’d revealed myself, but now she moved forward again, her slim fingers wrapping around the iron bars. She should have been terrified of me, but she looked curious.
Gold sparkled on one of her fingers. Even though I knew she carried my soul, my heart thrummed when I saw the familiar circlet. It was the ring I’d forged a thousand years ago, the vessel that had housed my soul for millennia.
“Who are you?” she whispered.
The moment I tried to speak, blood roared in my ears, and my skin burned as though a thousand suns shone upon it. The curse heated my blood, and the words died in my throat.
I let out a long, slow sigh, then stepped back into the depths of cell. Maybe not right now, but I’d get to her, one way or another.
Chapter 7
Ali
At least an hour of silence had passed since I’d been thrown into this cell, during which my strange prison friend had disappeared into the shadows. As he’d slunk back into the darkness, the aches in my body had returned.
Now, I couldn’t see him at all; inky darkness collected around him. Strangely, even my Dokkalfar eyesight couldn’t pierce those shadows, and he wasn’t making a single sound. I could smell him a little, though. And it wasn’t a bad smell, either—like wood smoke and burned sage. I breathed it in. There was almost something alluring about it, despite how terrifying he’d appeared.
I sat on the stone bench, trying to work out a plan. Apparently, the guard hadn’t seen me as much of a threat, because he’d hardly searched me. For safekeeping, I’d stashed the vergr crystal in my shoe—a possible route out of here, I had thought, if I could manage it.
And yet it couldn’t get me out of here. I’d already tried.
About twenty minutes earlier, I’d slipped the crystal between the cell bars. I’d actually escaped my cell and walked to either end of the cellblock, only to find the doors to the block were solid and locked. There was no way to get my crystal through, so I was stuck here for now.
Unfortunately, waiting for someone to open the door so I could toss the stone through meant sweating in my winter coat. The acrylic fur was making my neck itch, the fake goatskin trapping in the heat. But there wouldn’t be time to throw it on if the door creaked open.
I searched the darkness for my prison buddy again—the terrifying man with the cold eyes who seemed like he might eat my soul. Nothing.
“Skalei,” I whispered, and the knife appeared. I wasn’t sure what I’d do with it; I just felt better with it in my hand. The blade was magically sharp, and it could slice through the flesh of my enemies in an instant. Not, unfortunately, troll arms or iron bars.
I began to hum the Rick Roll song as I flipped the blade in my hand. Five full rotations of razor-sharp steel. Once with my eyes opened, once with them closed. An old assassin’s habit to pass the time.
I hoped a guard would be showing up at some point with food. That was when I’d make my move. Although there was every possibility they planned to let me starve down here. Might explain the stench of death.
Just as I raised Skalei for another toss, light and voices flooded the cellblock.
“In with Marroc?” came a feminine voice, followed by tinkling laugher. “That is brilliant. She’s probably pissed herself with fear.”
I was getting the impression that they had no idea who I was.
Another voice, this one masculine but still with the mellifluous tone of the High Elves: “I still can’t believe Father sent us down here. This place is vile.”
“Sune, you know how he is. He only trusts his own family. I, for one, am honored to do as he asks.” The woman’s tone dripped with sarcasm.
I peered between the bars, and my stomach sank. A trio of High Elves had entered the cell block. If I threw my crystal, they’d almost certainly catch me.
So, instead of escaping, I watched as the High Elves walked down the corridor between the cells. Leading the way was a stocky guard with blond eyebrows. He tried to look confident, but his knuckles were white on the hilt of his sword.
Behind him walked a pair of taller elves—a man and a woman. They were dressed in the ivory robes preferred by nobility, and both wore a thin hawthorn-wood wand on their hip. The woman was beautiful, with the honey-colored hair and eyes typical of their kind. The man, however, looked too pale, like he’d faded in the sun.
I slid Skalei next to the crystal in my shoe to hide it as they drew closer to me. I tried to look peaceful when the trio stopped in front of my cell, folding my hands in my lap.
“You’re the one who tried to break into Silfarson’s?” asked the woman. Her voice was musical but unmistakably hostile, like a flute played in a minor key.
She irritated me already.
I sighed. “I successfully broke into Silfarson’s.”
“You know, she’s technically right, Revna.” The man laughed. I recognized the voice as Sune’s. “She was caught escaping from the bank.”
“Semantics,” she snapped. I regretted my impetuousness, considering her expression said she’d love an excuse to rip my throat out.
Sune’s eyes narrowed. “Tell us why you tried to rob the bank.”
I shrugged, feigning nonchalance. I couldn’t let on the truth. “Because I want to be rich.”
Revna arched an eyebrow. “Even Night Elves aren’t stupid enough to break into our banks without a good reason. We know your name. Ali, daughter of Volundar.”
My throat went dry. Did they know what I did? That I wasn’t simply a common thief?
“Volundar,” said Sune. “As far as I can tell, he’s just another dead Night Elf. Your mother’s name isn’t even recorded; that’s how insignificant she was. Though I imagine she’s dead too, rotted away in the caves. Is that right?”
Rage tightened its grip on my heart, but I fought to master control. I kept my mouth shut to stop myself from hurling curses at them. I didn't want them uttering a word about my parents.
“I would feel pity for your wretched kind, if it weren’t for the fact that the Night Elves caused Ragnarok,” added Revna. “You killed the gods, worshipping Loki like you did. Naughty, naughty. You’re lucky we let you live at all, after what your kind did to the world.”
I wanted to tell them that was a lie—at least, I’d always felt it was a lie. But I had to keep up the charade that they weren’t getting to me. “Who cares about the past?” I spat. “I care only for gold.”
The only comfort in this entire situation was that no one had mentioned Barthol yet, and he clearly wasn’t here. I was growing ever more hopeful he’d made it back to the safehouse.
Just behind them, in the shadows, the blue-eyed prisoner began to stir. His shadowy magic condensed around him.
When I looked back at the two blondes, I saw that Sune was staring at the ring on my finger. “Where did you get that?”
I glanced at it. Somehow, in the shitstorm that had erupted since the robbery, I’d totally forgotten the ring I’d found on the floor.
I held my hand up with a smile. “Like I said. I like gold.”
“That ring belongs to us.” Sune slid his hand between the bars. “Give it to me.”
I kept my expression neutral. “I’ll give it to you if you release me.”
Revna folded her arms. “Don’t be absurd. How about we agree not to torture you until you can no longer remember your name?”
“I’d love to peel back her face,” Sune added enthusiastically.
A compelling counteroffer. I wasn’t sure I had much negotiating power in this situation.
With a scowl, I gripped the gold encircling my finger—but when I pulled, it wouldn’t budge. I pulled harder, with a rising sense of panic. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw tendrils of the prisoner’s magic twisting across the stones between the cells.
“It’s stuck.” Some strange magic was binding it to my skin.
“She can’t remove it,” said Revna. “Guard, fetch my skinning blade.”
I was not going to endu
re a face peeling just because I couldn’t remove a freaking ring. I still had a chance to break out of here if I could manage to catch the door opening at the right time.
I pulled Skalei from my boot and pressed the blade against my finger, just below the ring. Immediately, blood welled against the blade. I was gritting my teeth, ready to cut into my skin if I had to, when an unearthly growl rose from the prisoner’s cell.
A boom erupted from across the cell block as the prisoner slammed his hands against the bars once more, and the sound of the impact reverberated through the prison. The pair of High Elves jumped like they’d been shot with a hex, and the guard screamed like a baby.
“Take her,” said Sune to the guard. With shaking hands, the guard hurried to open my cell. I slid my blade into my boot again, though no one seemed worried about it.
As soon as the cell door was open, Revna raised a wand. I had no room to dodge, and her spell slammed into my chest. My body stiffened as ice flooded my veins. With my muscles no longer responding, I teetered for a moment before toppling backward like a felled tree.
When I came to, I was being dragged by ropes bound tightly around my wrists. The words face peeling slammed through my mind. Though my body was still frozen by Revna’s spell, the effects were starting to wear off a little. I could just about wiggle my toes and fingers.
Quickly, I took in my surroundings. I was outside. It was near midnight. The moon was out, luminous and full. A thin breeze blew icy cold, and my breath caught at the chill, the winter air stinging my cheeks.
A few golden spires loomed above me, but the massive walls of the Citadel were nowhere to be seen. Instead, short parapets rose on either side. The stone was the gleaming white of the Citadel’s walls. We seemed to be on a curving walkway surrounding the fortress, towering somewhere above Beacon Hill.
Thing was, since I’d never been inside the Citadel before, I didn’t have a sense of the layout at all. I had no idea what to expect next. Were they going to throw me off the edge of the tower? I remembered vaguely that used to be the punishment for treason in ancient times.
My head throbbed as I tried to formulate a plan, but I’d been through such a beating tonight that I was nearly out of coherent thoughts. I still had the vergr stone, at least, but I couldn’t get to my shoe with my wrists bound.
Skalei always came to me when I called for her, and the blade could slice through rope. But I’d need the guard to stop yanking me before I could pause to make that work. I’d get one chance to call Skalei and make my escape, so I’d have to consider it carefully.
Once again, I tasted blood on my lips, and my thoughts drifted a little. Somehow, it was hard to think clearly when your body was magically frozen, like Novocaine for the mind.
Vaguely, I remembered I was supposed to play Rick Roll for Barthol tonight, and I wondered if he’d manage to find it on his own. Would he be okay without me? He must be out of his mind with worry, and I felt desperate to get a message to him. He wasn’t in the dungeon, and I hadn’t seen him out here on the roof. With any luck, he was back in the Shadow Caverns. On a normal night, I’d be making mushroom soup for him, while he made up wild stories about a talking goat character he’d invented, or we would draw on the walls. When we were super bored, we would try to choreograph dances. In the Shadow Caverns, we had to do our best to make our own entertainment. Tonight, he’d be telling stories of Jeremy the Alcoholic Goat to the silent walls.
Assuming he got home safely.
But what would he do if he figured out where I was? I didn’t want him taking off on a wild revenge mission, or attempting a prison break. He needed my guidance to undertake anything insane.
“Oh! The thing is awake.”
Revna’s singsong voice pulled me out of my stupor, and I realized I had to switch into survival mode again. As the numbing spell grew weaker, I could feel myself bouncing painfully over the stones.
Revna walked beside me, smiling placidly down. There was no one else with us besides the High Elf guard who dragged my bound wrists. At last, my legs were thawing a bit, and I could better feel the stones beneath me.
“I can walk!” I shouted. “You can stop dragging me.”
The guard ignored me, not even a glance back in my direction.
I scrambled to stand on my tingling legs with a jolt of panic. For a few moments, I was locked in a tug of war with the guard. But after an awkward tussle, I managed to get to my feet, glowering eye to eye with the guard. An arctic wind whipped over the parapets, stinging my cheeks and rushing through my silver hair.
It was only at that moment that I felt the sharp pain in my hand, that I looked down at my finger. I felt myself going dizzy—
Revna pivoted. “I’m sorry,” she cooed. “We had to take the whole finger off. It was frankly disgusting.”
With horror whirling in my mind, I stared at the bloody nub where my ring finger had once been. When I glanced back over the long, curving walkway, I saw a long stream of crimson. In fact, the nub was still pumping blood onto the stones at my feet. My knees went weak.
I wanted to call Skalei, cut my bonds, and carve a permanent reminder of what Revna had taken from me across her pretty face. But now that I’d lifted my gaze from my mutilated hand, I took in the view around me.
On one side, the city of Boston spread out. And on the other—the walkway encircled an enormous amphitheater of white stone, with seats cascading down. The floor of the amphitheater was as dark as the night sky.
Tugging on the rope, the guard dragged me through a gate, into the top row of the amphitheater.
So, this was what loomed over Beacon Hill, on top of the Citadel. It was like a pale colosseum, ringed by spires like the rocks of a Neolithic stone circle.
I sucked in a sharp breath as I realized that, all around the amphitheater, High Elves filled the seats. It felt as if a thousand golden eyes were on me, all of them lit up with anticipation.
This did not bode well. I didn’t imagine I was in for a comfortable evening, here among a legion of my enemies.
I tried to reach for my shoe—it was definitely time for my vergr stone—but the guard yanked the rope so hard that I stumbled on the top step. I struggled to keep up as he dragged me down the steps, one row after another. All around me, the High Elves stared as I trailed blood behind me.
When we arrived at the lowest row of the arena, Revna turned to me, her eyes flashing with malice. The wind toyed with her pale hair. “Is it true that your kind can see in the dark? I suppose it’s a needed adaptation when you live in caves. I suppose you’ve grown used to all the disease down there as well, and the corpses piling up around you.”
A flash of white-hot anger flamed in my chest, but I ignored her, staring at the floor of the amphitheater. Jet black, it looked like a piece of the night sky had dropped to the earth and filled the arena.
“Oh, do you understand now? That’s where your life ends.” Revna batted her eyelashes, and I imagined stabbing her in the eye.
But before I did anything rash, I needed to understand the layout of the place. As I scanned the entire amphitheater, I spotted a dais just below us. There, a tall elf stood, dressed in thick golden robes. By his gleaming, spindly crown, I recognized him as King Gorm, the ruler of the High Elves. Head of the very family responsible for everything that had happened to my people. And now his attention was on me. I wondered if he knew who I was. I’d assassinated six High Elves from his kingdom—men accused of maliciously spreading disease in the Shadow Caverns.
“Revna,” he called up to us, his musical voice floating on the icy wind, “have you brought the thief?”
Thief. Not assassin. Good.
“Yes, Father,” she said.
“And you have the ring?”
Revna held up the gold ring, which was still covered in my blood.
“Excellent,” said the elf king. “The Night Elf has committed theft, murder, and extensive property damage—crimes that must be punished, here, before New Elfheim.”
> I clenched my jaw, unwilling to show the fear that now welled in my heart. High Elves surrounded me on all sides in seats of stone and ice. They glared at me, their amber eyes eerie in the moonlight.
“Cave scum!” shouted one.
“Throw her into the depths!” screamed another. “We don’t want her filthy kind here.”
But I was hardly listening as the guard pulled me further down, to the ground floor of the amphitheater itself, below King Gorm’s dais. The rope bit into my skin as he pulled me, and I considered calling forth Skalei—but again I hesitated. I’d only have one shot at that.
I gritted my teeth, fighting against the guard with all my might, but he was so much bigger than me, stronger.
Gray granite encircled the black floor, and the guard was careful to stay away from the edge. I stared at the dark expanse now just inches from me, trying to make sense of its strange surface. It looked solid, pitch black and smooth as ice. Some type of volcanic rock, I guessed. Obsidian, maybe. I wondered why the guard seemed so careful not to go near it.
And while it seemed obvious that they planned to kill me—that my execution was the reason they’d all assembled in the middle of the night—there was no gallows, no bloodstained chopping block, no hooded executioner ready to lop off my head.
The king raised his arms, and the crowd quieted. “Are you ready!”
The crowd cheered. They, at least, seemed to know what was going on.
“Opna!” King Gorm shouted.
The obsidian floor shimmered, and my blood froze as I finally understood what I was looking at. What I’d thought to be solid rock was actually a magical illusion. I stood at the edge of a bottomless chasm so deep that even my Night Elf eyes couldn’t penetrate its depths.
There was no question in my mind what it was. This had to be the Well of Wyrd—quite literally the edge of the world.
Chapter 8
Cursed Prince (Night Elves Trilogy Book 1) Page 3