His mind heavy with worries, he leaned against the railing and watched the sea passing by. According to the pirates, they would arrive at a small port the next evening, just north of Aeluvaria. The port was in a hidden cove, unknown to the militia. From there, they had agreed to find the army of Makali. The Makali would have had five days to travel north from Fallshire. Not enough time to reach the Capital, but if they had walked for the entirety of every day, as Malon claimed they would do, they would not be too far off. A few more days for them to reach the woods east of Aeluvaria, then several more after that to reach the Capital.
He sensed someone behind him and turned.
Vail approached. She had tied her sleek brown hair at the nape of her neck. The tail crept over her shoulder, falling nearly to the waist of her simple green tunic. “I thought I would find you up here,” she said as she reached him. She joined him near the railing as he turned to look back out across the sea.
“Will we really march with the Makali?” she asked.
You will, he thought. He trusted Vail, but it was safer for everyone if few knew their true plan. “We have been hoping for an army all along. Faerune may have failed us, but according to Saida, the Makali will not.”
“But their land is the Helshone, far from the Capital,” Vail pressed. “Why would they fight for us?”
In truth, he wasn’t quite sure. He had heard the tale, that Saida could bring water and life to the desert, but he found it difficult to believe. No one had that sort of power. “They believe Saida and Malon can wield the power of the gods. They want that power directed toward their homeland. Marching on the Capital is a small cost for what they hope to gain—what they believe Malon and Saida can do.”
He glanced over as Vail lifted one highly arched brow. “And what do you believe?”
He shrugged. “I believe Saida speaks the truth. They can wield the power of the circlets. Whether that power comes from the gods, and whether it can bring life to the desert, who can truly say?”
Vail moved closer to him, pressing her shoulder against his. Even after days out at sea, she smelled like the forest. She smelled like home. “I think we should return to Faerune and let the others fight this war. What good will you and I do? What good will Vessa do?”
“You are free to go if you wish. In fact, I would prefer it. And take my sister with you.”
He could sense Vail watching him out of the corner of her eye, though she pretended to look out toward the sea. “She will not go without you, and neither will I. But you could come with us.”
“I started this thing with Elmerah and Saida. I intend to see it through.”
“You owe them nothing. We are your people. You belong with us.”
He turned toward her, his skin prickling with sudden anger. “Egrin took everything from us. He slaughtered our people. He turned the Empire against us, and against Faerune. I will not ask of Elmerah and Saida anything I am not willing to do myself.”
“Your nobility will get you killed,” she hissed.
“So be it. I will not abandon her—them.”
“I think you’re in love with that witch,” Vail accused. “I think that’s the true reason you won’t abandon her.”
He would have been angry at her tone, but he could sense the pain beneath her words. The loss of a life that could have been, but never would. “My feelings toward Elmerah are my business, not yours. And any choice you make once we dock should have nothing to do with me.”
“She’s going to get you killed.”
He sighed, glancing over his shoulder to where he knew Elmerah was standing with Celen. Her eyes drifted from Celen to meet his waiting gaze. She hesitated on Vail at his side, then looked away.
He turned back to Vail. “She’s been saving me since the day she met me. If I die now, that will have been enough.”
Vail shook her head. “You’re a fool.” She pushed away from the railing, then headed toward the ladder that would take her below deck. The pirates milling about paid her no mind. They had all gotten used to each other over the course of the journey.
Alluin turned his attention back to Elmerah, meeting her eyes once more across the deck. He let Vail’s words sink in. Truly, he’d had little time to consider his feelings for Elmerah, and he was quite sure she viewed him only as a friend. That was enough for him. If they were to die facing Egrin, then they would go down together. It had been their silent bargain from the start.
Saida
Saida sat in a cabin with Brosod below deck. They would have to act quickly, before anyone else came down to rest. All of the women in the party crammed into the cabin at night. There wasn’t enough room on the ship for anything else.
Brosod held a dagger in her hand, looking worried. “Are you sure about this? Perhaps we should consult with Malon—”
“He cannot know,” Saida cut her off. “I’ll be fine.”
“The curse is far more dangerous when you use your own blood to power it.”
Saida gripped the Crown of Cindra in one hand. “I trust the goddess to guide me. She has gotten me this far.”
Brosod’s hand tightened around the hilt of the dagger. “If you cannot be swayed, then we must act quickly before anyone happens upon us. Having someone try to pull you out can be just as dangerous as you going in without proper ritual.”
Saida held out her arm, baring her wrist. “I understand the risks.”
Brosod took Saida’s hand, moving it so her forearm was poised above a beeswax candle burning between them. “Remember everything I have told you.”
Saida closed her eyes. “I remember. Do it.”
She winced as the blade sliced across her inner forearm. Hot blood dripped down her skin, then hit the candle flame, sizzling with every drop. Brosod began to chant.
Still gripping the circlet in her free hand, Saida chanted with her. More blood sizzled onto the candle, then Brosod helped Saida lean back upon her sleeping mat. Once the curse took hold, Brosod would pretend to sleep too, but she would be there in case anyone tried to interrupt the curse.
Saida’s thoughts drifted, then slipped away entirely. The sleeping mat beneath her faded from her senses as darkness consumed her. It was easier this time, stepping into the dream realm. Only this time she wasn’t searching for any of her friends. She was searching for a demon.
She had taken but a few steps across the hard stone when he found her. “Have you reconsidered my offer?”
She turned to face him. He looked just the same as when she last saw him in his black clothing with gold and silver embroidery. His short black hair was so sleek it looked almost like the feathers of a raven. “I want to know why you urged me to ask that question of Malon. Did you think his answer would turn me against him?”
Egrin’s smile was more a baring of teeth. “Yes, if he actually told you the truth.”
She crossed her arms, feigning indifference. “And what is the truth?”
He took a step toward her, and it was a struggle to not run away. “The truth, little elf, is that I did not approach him with an impossible bargain. He came to me. His spies believed I would soon move against Faerune, and they were right. He came to me and offered to help.”
Her gut twisted. “I don’t believe you. You would have come for the moonstones one way or another.”
Egrin strolled closer. “In that, you are correct. But I already had Nokken within Faerune. Their task was simple. Poison the High Council. Pose as healers so they would be close when each member died. Hide the bodies, then impersonate the council members long enough to infiltrate the High Temple and steal the moonstones. I could have had what I wanted without lifting a finger.”
She abruptly realized he had moved so close she could feel his breath. She staggered back like he had struck her.
He quickly closed the distance between them once again, stalking her like a predator. “So you see, I was all set. Then an elven guardsman sent word to me. He had some very interesting things to say, and requested a meeting. He convinced me he kn
ew the location of the Crown of Cindra, which had been missing for countless decades. If I went about things his way, he would tell me the location of both the circlets.”
Saida didn’t try to move away again. She stood completely enthralled by his tale. Could it be the truth?
“You see,” he went on, leaning close. “A bargain with one of my kind is completely binding. I was too prideful to see that the guardsmen was tricking me in the same way I tricked the High King of the Akkeri. I told Hotrath I would obtain a moon priestess. There were no terms put in place to ensure a safe delivery. Malon told me he would divulge the location of the circlets, but not that he would give them to me. I didn’t think I would need him to give them to me. I only needed to know where they were. He used me to tear down Faerune, then he fled with the Crown of Arcale. Once I finally located him, he had you, and both the circlets.”
She clutched her stomach, feeling ill as she absorbed his words. Egrin had intended the deaths of the High Council, but he had not intended to waste the time directly assaulting Faerune. Malon had brought that about himself.
Egrin smiled. “I’m told your mother died that day. Orius was quite proud to claim the kill.”
Her mouth went dry. Orius. Her mother’s murderer now had a name.
“I could give him to you,” he went on. “In exchange for the circlets, and Malon’s death.” He tilted his head like a bird. “And of course, Faerune will be safe.”
Tears choked her throat. She couldn’t seem to form a reply.
His smile broadened. “Think about it. You still have a little bit of time before the full moon, but don’t think for too long. Once the moon reaches its apex, I will obliterate Faerune so completely it will be as if it never existed.”
He snapped his fingers and disappeared, leaving her alone in the near darkness.
Tears fell down her cheeks. She really was alone. Not just here, but on the ship.
It was her choice to make. She could save Faerune and have her mother’s murderer put to death. But if she took Egrin’s offer, would she doom them all?
Isara
“Can’t you work any faster?” Daemon asked, crossing his arms to lean against a wooden post at the docks. The moon and stars were mostly shrouded by clouds, hiding his haughty features.
Isara tossed a string of fish guts into a nearby bucket. “You know, it would go a lot faster if you helped. We would have already had a nice supper by now if I weren’t doing all the work myself.”
Daemon lifted his hands and wiggled his fingers. “These hands do not touch blood and guts.”
With a heavy sigh, Isara retrieved the next fish and began cleaning it. They had happened upon the small port the day before, though she could have sworn they’d already searched this area of the island. It was like the port had appeared out of thin air, or else a veil had been lifted.
Since they had no coin, she had made a bargain with a fisherman. They would do some extra work, and in exchange would receive a hot meal and a place to stay for the night. Perhaps if they waited in the port long enough, Elmerah and the others would find them.
Although . . . she wasn’t sure how they had managed to miss each other for this long on such a small island. Maybe she and Daemon were the only ones to survive the sinking ship. Or else the others had ended up on another island entirely.
She tossed another string of guts into the bucket, unfazed by the blood and slime on her fingers. “Perhaps we can find enough work to earn passage to the mainland.”
She was surprised when he moved forward and sat beside her, dangling his legs off the edge of the dock. “Or maybe we should just stay on this island. Let the witches and Egrin have it out, and we’ll remain here where it’s safe.”
She eyed him suspiciously. “So you’ve given up on him finding you?”
Daemon shrugged. “It’s been days. I fear it’s just you and I now, dear sister.”
She continued to watch him, her hand halfway toward grabbing the next fish. “You don’t seem terribly upset about that.”
He peered out across the dark water. His once fine clothing was stained and torn, and his hair was a fluffy mess. At least his arrow wound was healing nicely. “I’ll admit, it hasn’t been utterly awful spending this time with you, and away from Egrin. You must at least feel some relief to be away from those crude witches.”
He was wrong. She didn’t feel relief, but . . . where had they gone? Had they abandoned her?
Daemon surprised her even further by reaching across her lap to grab a fish from the brimming basket. He lifted one of the knives the fisherman had given them, but couldn’t seem to decide where to poke it through the scales. Finally, Isara picked up another fish and began to instruct him.
He listened, and before long they had a nice hot meal in a fisherman’s hut. Then they went to sleep on stiff mats, but with warm blankets.
She couldn’t help but think, as she drifted off to sleep, how nice it would be to live a different life with her brother, far from witches, elves, and demons. Far from anything else that could bring her any more pain.
Chapter Nine
Alluin
On the evening of the following night, they finally reached shore. The rocky cliffs of the hidden cove loomed around them like silent sentinels, guiding the ship toward the torches burning at the small pirate-built dock. Alluin could see a few shadowy figures waiting by the torches, and couldn’t help but wonder if this was where the pirates would turn against them. Dread settled into his stomach. Perhaps a rhodium gull was not enough motivation after all. Not when you had two witches with bounties on their heads. The pirates could keep the gull and sell Elmerah and Rissine to the emperor. Of course, they’d have to capture them first, and would surely suffer many casualties.
Elmerah and Saida moved to stand with him as the ship reached the dock. Saida had a satchel of supplies, the Crown of Cindra, and a dagger at her belt. Elmerah had nothing but the coat on her back, and even that was coming apart at the sleeves where her magic had burned the fabric.
Alluin glanced over his shoulder to see Brosod and Malon standing nearby. Neither ever let Saida long out of their sight. Brosod, he believed, genuinely cared for Saida’s safety. Malon . . . he should have pushed overboard while he had the chance.
The men on shore began roping the ship to the dock while those on board set to carrying up whatever cargo they were smuggling from below deck.
“Let’s go,” Elmerah said. “I’m ready to be on dry land.”
Saida watched Elmerah go with a strange expression. Neither woman had mentioned what happened between them the first night on the ship, but that odd tension was still there.
Malon and Brosod walked past and Saida joined them, patting Alluin’s arm as she walked away. He wondered if they had figured out the plan. The plan that he, Elmerah, and Celen had kept to all along. Killian was still involved too, mostly because he had known about it from the start and didn’t believe that any of them would be swayed from their course.
Celen came up behind him and leaned an elbow on his shoulder. “Not far from the Capital now, are you having second thoughts?”
Alluin shook his head. “No, but keep your voice down.” He walked out from under Celen’s elbow toward the wide plank that now bridged the ship and the dock. He walked down after Vessa and Vail, both being quiet and not acknowledging him.
The other elves in their party came down next. He guiltily realized he had never even learned their names. They were from one of the southern Valeroot clans, brave men who had volunteered to accompany Rissine on her mission. And they had been treated as little more than pawns—disposable.
He reached the dock, then followed the others down the planks toward the shoreline, silently vowing that if they survived, he would learn everyone’s names. He would make sure they were rewarded the recognition they deserved. But for now . . . there was no time to get to know them. At the first opportunity, he and the others would branch off from their group and head straight toward the Capital
.
Feeling weary and morose as he reached the sand, he waited alone. Several large crates had already been carried down to dry land. The men on shore were moving them toward rough wagons with large, wide wheels, capable of being pulled by horses across sandy or bumpy terrain.
Rissine and Zirin both spoke with the captain, watching from the dock as his men unloaded their goods. Coin was exchanged, then Rissine and Zirin moved toward the rest of their group gathering further off shore.
Once more uneasy, Alluin joined them.
Rissine addressed the group. “The pirates say strange creatures now roam the land, some doing the bidding of the Dreilore, if these men are to be believed . . . ”
Alluin’s arms prickled at her words. That was it then, the feeling of dread. It wasn’t his intuition telling him the pirates would turn on them, it was the demons. It was as if the land itself had turned dark and foreboding.
Elmerah moved to his side, rubbing her arms beneath her coat. “I don’t like this,” she muttered.
“I don’t like not knowing what Egrin is planning. And I don’t like not having a weapon.”
“We’ll find you something,” he whispered, though he wasn’t sure how.
“We should get moving,” Rissine was saying. “We’ll find a safe place to make camp for the night.” Finished with her short speech, she moved toward Alluin and Elmerah with Zirin at her heels. She extended a hand back toward Zirin, and he handed her a sheathed cutlass, which she offered to Elmerah. “Lucky for you, the pirates are smuggling weapons.”
Elmerah took the cutlass, sliding it partway out of its leather sheath. “Well it’s not elven silver steel, but it will work.”
Rissine rolled her eyes, the expression exaggerated by the torchlight casting harsh shadows on her lower features. “You’re welcome, now let’s get going.” She turned and started walking.
“Alluin could use a new bow!” Elmerah called after her.
Empire of Demons (The Moonstone Chronicles Book 4) Page 9
