Lost mark 3 The Queen of Death: (13 page)

The elf dashed forward and put his arms on Espre’s shoulders. "How good it is to see you again,” he said, marveling, his accent featuring the regal tones of Aerenal. "I would know you anywhere. You are your mother’s daughter, to be sure.”

Espre stared up at the elf. He stood much shorter than Kandler, perhaps about Burch’s height instead. He seemed thin and frail, like he might not be able to heft a proper sword, but he still radiated a powerful confidence that Espre found comforting.

"Hello,” she said, her voice barely more than a whisper. She cleared her throat. "Hello, Ledenstrae.”

The elf reached out and took her chin in his hand. Holding it, he peered into her eyes and smiled. "You may call me Father, young one.”

"As you wish,” Espre said, "Father.” The word felt strange on her tongue. She’d not had a father for so long that the concept seemed like an invader from a strange but familiar land.

Majeeda strolled into the room behind Ledenstrae, her bones creaking with every move. Espre couldn’t tell if the soft, fragile sounds she heard came from the rustling of the deathless elf’s robes or her tissue-thin skin.

"Oh, my little darling,” Majeeda said, opening her arms for an embrace. "It’s such a relief to see you safe and sound. When you disappeared from my home—”

As Espre flinched at the old elf’s approach, Burch stepped between them with a wicked grin. He spread his arms wide, ready to accept the wizard’s affections, but she recoiled, not bothering to hide her disgust.

Ledenstrae had stepped back to permit Majeeda to greet Espre. Now he reached out and brought Espre to him, holding an arm around her. She couldn’t tell if he meant to protect her from Majeeda or Burch, or if he just wanted to establish his parentage by showing some sort of concern.

The fact that he hadn’t shown any such concern over the past decades of her life wasn’t lost on Espre. She would never forget that he’d not been around for her since, well, ever. She wondered, though, if their blood-bond would be enough, something they could build a relationship on now. Perhaps their chance to know each other had been delayed but not destroyed.

"I am glad that Kandler saw the wisdom of returning you to me,” Ledenstrae said.

"You didn’t give him much of a choice,” said Burch. He blew a kiss at Majeeda and grinned as the bony creature shuddered with revulsion.

"He didn’t return me to you,” Espre said, finding her voice. "I came of my own accord.”

Ledenstrae squeezed her shoulder. "I knew you had my blood in you,” he said. "I could see it the moment you walked into the room.”

Espre heard something less than joy in the elf’s tone.

Wistfulness? It was hard to say. She didn’t know Ledenstrae at all, but she’d spent little time in the company of elves other than her mother. Once she learned their ways, perhaps her father’s demeanor wouldn’t seem so strange.

"It is as I told you,” Majeeda said. She ran her hands down the front of her robes, trying to smooth out the wrinkles there and regain her composure. "My knowledge of such things knows no peer.”

Ledenstrae grimaced at this, then gestured toward the balcony beyond the room in which they stood. "Come,” he said. "Let us sit in the sun and speak. I would like to get to know my daughter better."

Espre looked up at the elf and took his hand in hers. "I think I’d like that,” she said.

Chapter

20

Open that door,” Kandler said, his hand on the hilt of the fangblade hanging from his belt.

The three guards st anding in front of the portal that led into the ground floor of the tower refused to budge. They didn’t even acknowledge the justicar’s presence as he walked up to them. Kandler recognized the tactic, meant to imply that someone like him was so little a threat as to be not worth noticing.

He’d used it himself from time to time, but never when faced with an armed opponent. An idiot with a sword still had a sword, and Kandler had never seen the wisdom in treating any lethal threat casually. He preferred the direct approach.

Kandler drew his sword and pinned one of the guards to the door behind him before any of their blades even cleared their scabbards. The fangblade lanced right through the elf’s unarmored shoulder, and the justicar pulled it back in front of himself in time to catch the blades of the wounded guard’s two companions along its shaft.

"Open that door,” Kandler said.

This time, the guards didn’t ignore him. The injured elf slid back along the wall, away from the fight, to give his friends more room to maneuver. It did them little good.

The fangblade licked out and sliced through the forearm of one of the attacking guards. The elf dropped his blade with a pained cry.

Kandler kicked it aside as he parried a counterattack from the third guard. He didn’t have the time to mess around with these hired swords. If they called for help, they could have most of the fortress surrounding the tower in no time.

Still, he didn’t care to kill them. As he’d told Te’oma, he had no quarrel with these elves. They were but soldiers doing the job they’d been trained for.

As the third guard came at him, Kandler blocked the incoming swing with his fangblade. The enemy sword broke in two on the fangblade's edge. As it fell apart, Kandler smashed out with his fist and caught the startled elf square in the nose. Blood spurted from the guard’s face as he sat down hard.

Kandler kicked the last of the guards aside and let himself into the tower. As he did, he heard the guards begin to shout for help.

He slammed the door behind him and barred it. Then he dashed over to the basket, which dropped into place as he reached it. He leaped into it, and it began to ascend.

"We cannot wait here for them to come back,” Sallah said. She shaded her eyes as she stared off from the top of the bridge at the tops of the towers that dotted the village. She thought she recognized the one in which they’d met Ledenstrae.

Xalt cocked his head at the lady knight. "Kandler told us

to wait here,” he said. "His instructions were clear.”

"If you followed instructions to the letter, Kandler, Burch, and I would be dead, and you would still be wandering about the Mournland.” Sallah tried to take the edge off her comment with a wry grin, but she found she couldn’t summon one.

"She’s right,” Monja said, her hands wrapped around the top spars of the airship’s stationary wheel. She had to stand on a couple of the lower spars to be able to see over the top of the bridge's console, but the position seemed to grant her not only height but authority.

"I saw the look in Kandler’s eyes,” the halfling said, glancing at Te’oma. "He’s spoiling for a fight.”

"Then let him find one,” the changeling said, still rubbing her throat where Kandler has strangled her.

"Do you blame him for not trusting you?” Sallah asked.

"None of you do.” Te’oma spat on the deck, unable to keep the'bitterness from her voice. "Why should he?”

The changeling paced the deck for a moment, then stopped and turned on the others. "I could have flown away from here at any point. On the trip from Fort Bones to the Ironroots, I could have just slipped over the ship’s railing at any time and been gone, but no, I stayed here, with you, so I could do something to . . . to . . .”

The others waited for a moment.

"To kill a dragon?” Duro asked, his voice high and uncertain.

Te’oma scoffed at him. "You’re insane,” she said. "Spending your days guarding the lair of a dragon, armed with nothing more than axes, hoping you could do something to stop it when it wanted to get free. If I’d known what was going to happen—I’ll be honest. I would have flown away. The last you would have seen of me would have been

my wings flapping into the sunset.”

Xalt interrupted her rant. "That is not true. As you say, you could have escaped at many points. Even after we discovered Nithkorrh, you had many opportunities.”

Te’oma turned away and muttered something to herself.

Sallah raised a hand to reach out to the changeling, then thought better of it. Instead, she spoke. "Your actions earned our respect, if not our unwavering trust. You must recall your actions thrust us along this perilous road.”

Te’oma spun back about. "Don’t you think I know that?” she said. "If I could change one thing I’d ever done, I’d—Well, I’d have to start a lot farther back than that.” She bowed her head. "Now, with nothing left for Vol to dangle before me, I just thought I could do some good for once.”

"Especially if that good would thwart the lady who betrayed you,” Monja said.

"She’s no lady,” Te’oma said with a shiver. "She’s beyond such things, like royalty is beyond peasantry. If you’d ever seen her sitting on that frigid throne of hers in Illmarrow Castle, you’d know her for what she is: a queen. The queen of death.”

Silence fell over the bridge then. Duro shifted uncomfortably. Monja stared out from the wheel as if charting a path toward the ocean that appeared as a strip of grayish blue on the southern horizon. Xalt stared at each of the others in turn, focusing his unblinking eyes on them like a lantern’s light.

"I believe in you,” Sallah said to Te’oma as Xalt’s gaze fell on her. As the words left her, she wondered why she’d bothered to speak them.

"So you said.” Te’oma huffed and frowned. "It’s easy to believe in someone when your god lets you know if she’s telling the truth.”

Sallah shook her head. "I didn’t use the powers of the Silver Flame for that.”

Te’oma stared at Sallah through reddened eyes. "You’re lying,” she said.

A soft smile crossed Sallah’s lips. "If you really want the trust you ask from us, it would help if you could extend it too.”

"Why would you tell Kandler to believe me?”

Sallah gave a slight shrug, barely enough to move the shoulders of her shining armor. "Because I did."

Te’oma considered this for a moment. Then a smile slowly spread across her face. "How are we going to break this glorified dinghy free from the dock?” she asked.

Sallah looked to where a pair of thick chains moored the
Phoenix
to the dock. They had no tools that would snap such weighty links. They would have to try another way.

Duro cleared his throat. "I think I have an idea.”

Chapter

21

E
spre squirmed in the hard chair across from her father. She knew it was an expensive piece of furniture of the finest elf fashion, and it probably was worth a small fortune. Try as she might, though, she could not make herself comfortable in it.

Instead, she longed for the worn, rickety chairs around the table in her home back in Mardakine. She knew that she’d probably never see that town again. Even if the Mark of Death somehow disappeared from her skin, she could never return to the place where her burgeoning powers had unwittingly caused the deaths of so many of the townspeople. Now that she knew that the responsibility for those murders could be laid at her feet, she could never look the survivors in the face again.

The image of Norra, her best friend ever since she had come with Kandler to Mardakine, leaped into her mind. She missed Norra terribly, but should they ever find themselves in the same room again, Espre knew that she would flee the place rather than confront the fact that her dragon-mark had killed Norra’s mother.

With no home to go back to, Espre wondered if there might be a place for her in her father's life and land. She’d left Aerenal shortly after her birth, but that had been her mother’s doing not hers. Now it seemed like Ledenstrae meant to take her back with open arms. She could hardly believe her luck, but she couldn’t yet tell if that fortune was good or bad.

"Father?” Espre said. "Where would we live in Aerenal?”

Ledenstrae beamed down at the elf-maid. "My family— which is yours too, of course—has places all over Aerenal . Our ancestors are wise and powerful, and they comprise one of the most powerful factions within the Undying Court. We would have our pick of places in which to reside.”

"Where would you take me?”

Espre noticed that Ledenstrae had not offered Burch a seat with the others. The shifter had not seemed to notice the affront though. Instead, he stood watching over them, his head cocked to one side from time to time as if he were listening tor something.

"We would arrive in Pylas Talaear,” Ledenstrae said. "We could stay there for some time, until you feel more comfortable with proper society. She has been gone so long,” he said to Majeeda.

The ancient elf clapped her hands with glee. "As have I! We could practice our etiquette together.”

While the thought pleased Majeeda, it turned Espre’s stomach. She knew that the elves of Aerenal all aimed to someday become deathless like Majeeda, to take their place within the Undying Court, but it seemed horrible and unnatural to her.

Was that why Esprina had taken her away from Aerenal? To save her daughter from an eternal life as such a horror? Or to save herself from the same?

"Why did my mother leave you?” Espre asked.

The question slipped from her before she had a chance to consider it. As it did, though, she felt grateful for it. If her mother hadn’t trusted Ledenstrae, if she’d been willing to abandon her homeland to get herself and her daughter away from him, Espre needed to know why.