“Girls . . .” Trenyth shifted uncomfortably. “Your father . . . he . . .” He paused and we read the story on his face.
Don’t say it. Don’t say it. If you don’t say it, it’s not real.
Camille let out a little cry and her hand flew to her mouth as she turned to him. “He’s here. Isn’t he? He came to meet with us. He was waiting for us, wasn’t he? With Queen Asteria, in the throne room.”
Trenyth nodded. “Yes. I’m sorry.”
A sucker punch to the gut and we were down for the count. But the night had numbed me so hard, so far, that the shock of the news washed like water on a duck’s back, rolled over me and off again. Camille’s tears stopped and she stood there, mute.
I was the first to find my voice. “If Menolly and the others survived, surely they would think of heading to Y’Elestrial. And remember, Shade can transport through the Ionyc Sea. He could have . . .” I let the thought drift off.
“You’re right of course,” Camille said, her voice so soft it was barely a whisper. “We’d better get to the portals before the armies come in. Because you know they’ve got to have a force marching this way. Trenyth, come with us?”
He shook his head. “I cannot. I will find someone to take you to the portals, though. It’s likely to be dangerous on the roads.” At my pleading look, he rested a gentle hand on my shoulder. “Delilah, you know that I would go if I could, but I’m in command here. And the Keraastar Knights are scattered—if we don’t find them and get them away from here, Telazhar will have a damned good chance of getting the rest of the spirit seals before the week is up.”
I nodded. “Yes. Yes . . . we’ll go now, then. Who can we take with us?”
“Wait here.” Trenyth hurried off, and Camille and I stood, hand in hand, mute. There was nothing much we could say. Within moments, he was back with a guard in hand. “Take them to the portals leading to Y’Elestrial and make certain they get through. Do you understand?”
The elf, his uniform torn and blackened from the soot, nodded. “With my life, Liege.”
“Good, because their lives may depend on yours. And if they die and you live, your life will be forfeit. They are that important.”
Not even looking fazed, the guard simply nodded and then, silently, he led us out of the palace, and we were off and away into the night.
The journey to the portals was devastating in itself. Elqaneve lay in ruins, the city ablaze with fires that burned too bright to be sparked from normal lightning. Everywhere, houses were razed, forest was burning, and people were dead or dying. Those who seemed unharmed sat in shock, or milled aimlessly. We passed through them, silent and without trying to help. There was nothing we could do. Nothing we could say. They did not stop us, nor try to speak.
And so we made our way to the Barrow Mounds, still no sign of invasion, but my intuition told me it would happen soon. The guards were at their posts, but they quickly told the one leading us that they had barred anyone from entering or leaving through the portals. I didn’t hear what he said to them—my mind was churning on overload, and Camille was just as quiet.
Within minutes, however, we were hustled toward the portal pointing to Y’Elestrial, and then we were in, and a whirlwind later, we emerged into our home city.
As we exited the portal, the soft glow of eye catchers surrounded us, and the silence and sense of peace was palpable. It washed over us like a wave, and before I could help it, I was weeping, on my knees, exhaustion and despair my cloak. The guards took one look at us and rushed to our side. Camille sucked in a deep breath as they gathered around us.
“Elqaneve is fallen. We need to speak to Her Majesty immediately. We are His Lordship Sephreh ob Tanu’s daughters. Take us to her now.”
And without a question, without a protest, the guards swept us into a carriage, and we were on our way to the Court, under a night sky that was clear and crisp, and the only smell of smoke was from the hearth fires in the houses that we passed by.
We were escorted into a private chamber. The Court and Crown was far more ostentatious than Elqaneve could ever have hoped to be, but it still made me catch my breath when I saw it. After the destruction we’d witnessed, my cynicism seemed to have flown the coop. Camille and I walked into the room to find ourselves facing a mirror that spread across one entire wall. I stared at our reflections, only now realizing how we looked.
We were bruised and battered, black and blue over our arms and faces, with crusted blood here and there—whether it was our own, or from some stranger we touched, some body we brushed against, it was hard to tell. Soot stained our torn clothes, and my hair—blond and spiky—was streaked with it. Ash and dirt joined the mix. Camille looked down at her moccasins and let out a yelp. They were covered with blood. She yanked them off, but a quick look at her feet showed only minor cuts and scratches. We truly looked like we had emerged from a war zone.
A glance around the room showed no one else in attendance, but a tray with water and wine and fruit and cheese was prominently placed on a table. We sank onto the edge of one of the leather benches, and I was grateful that the material could be wiped clean. We wouldn’t stain the upholstery, at least.
In the back of my mind, I heard a cynical little voice say, “Who the fuck cares about upholstery?” but there was still a part of me that wanted to be polite.
Camille reached for a piece of cheese and a cracker. She glanced over at me. “I have no clue what we’re supposed to do now. We warn Tanaquar and then . . . what?”
“We could go out to Father’s house. See if Menolly is there.”
She nodded, eating slowly. “Good point.” But our talk was all so much chatter. I felt broken, frozen by a sense that the world had just crashed down. Humpty Dumpty fell off the wall, and we were staring at a pile of scrambled eggs on the sidewalk.
A moment later, the door opened and Tanaquar, Queen of Y’Elestrial, swept in. Tanaquar was tall, with hair the color of flames that fell to her waist. She was tanned, and her eyes glowed with a light mirroring the golden glow of the sun. Beautiful, she looked a lot like her sister—the Opium Eater, whom she deposed in a civil war not too long before. We had thought the destruction from that war horrendous, but it was nothing—nothing, in comparison to what we had just been through.
Tanaquar stared at us for a moment, then held up her hand when we started to rise in order to curtsey. “Stay your selves. There is no time for decorum now. My advisors are on the way in.” She paused. “You know your father was in Elqaneve.” By her tone, she knew we knew.
I nodded. “Yes. We do know. He’s missing.”
She merely waited until her flock of advisors joined her. They sat around us, in a half circle, three men and two women, as well as the Queen.
Sucking in a deep breath, I looked at Camille. And then, together, stumbling over events because they had become one big blur, we told them about the destruction of Elqaneve. When we finished, all the energy seemed to drain from me, and I leaned on the arm of the bench, exhausted.
“We’re missing Shade, Trillian, Chase, and Sharah, and . . . apparently, our father.” I stared at the Queen, unflinching. “Queen Asteria is dead.”
“And so . . . we are on the eve of war. And Elqaneve is fallen, and a reign that lasted thousands of years comes to a horrifying end.” Her voice was soft, but her words still pronounced the death knoll on the Elfin city. She turned to the man on her left. “We hold a treaty. Kelvashan is under siege and their capitol city, destroyed. Go now, marshal the army, and prepare to march in aid to to the elfin lands. We will use the military portals. There is no time to spare.”