“Where is everyone?” asked Aully.
“I don’t know,” Kindren replied.
“It’s not late. Should there not at least be some children out and about?”
“I don’t know. I have never been here before, remember?”
“Hush,” scolded Aaromar, his gray-green eyes squinting. “I think I hear something.”
The rest of the group halted in their tracks as Aaromar strode away from them, head cocked, ears twitching. Then came the sound of snapping branches, followed by thudding footsteps, and Aully’s breath caught in her throat. These were the sounds of men, not elves. Suddenly, she wondered if they had made the right choice after all. Using Kindren’s shoulder for support, she rose up on her tiptoes so she could get a better view.
Aaromar drew his sword and hunched down, preparing for whatever might come. When finally someone stepped into plain sight from the thick copse of trees, Aully let herself relax. They were elves after all-two girls and one boy, youngsters like her. She knew them well, and a smile stretched across her lips.
“Mella? Lolly? Hadrik?” she said, wedging her way through the wall of flesh. Hands reached out to grab her, but she slithered away. Once free she ran toward her three friends, tears in her eyes.
Her friends’ eyes opened wide and their mouths went agape, like they had just seen a phantom. Narrowly avoided Aaromar’s swiping hand, Aully ran headlong into Hadrik. Fourteen, yet already as tall as Aully’s father had been, the elf careened back on impact.
“Aullienna?” he said as she embraced him. “Aully?”
She drew back from him, and then looked to the left and right, where Mella and Lolly were waiting. There were tears in their eyes, and they leaned into her at once, the four of them becoming a tangle of arms and legs.
“We never thought we’d see you again,” said Lolly.
“They said you were dead,” said Mella.
“Who said she was dead?” asked the voice of Lady Audrianna, and the four young elves detached from one another.
Aully looked up at her mother. Her heart continued to soar until she spotted Kindren’s dejected expression. She tried to beckon him forward without speaking, but he averted his eyes.
The three youths bowed before Lady Audrianna without replying.
“I asked a question,” she said.
Still they were silent. Aullienna stared at their faces, and she realized that her excitement at seeing them had completely blinded her to their expressions.
“They’re scared,” she said, looking to her mother. Audrianna took a step closer to them, still looking regal as ever.
“Speak to me, young ones. What is it that frightens you?”
Hadrik lifted his tear-filled eyes. Aully did not like the look on her friend’s face one bit. She wished Kindren were holding her, especially when Hadrik began glancing this way and that around the clearing.
“Them,” he said.
Silent as an ant crawling across the dirt, countless forms popped up from the dense foliage, some dropping on vines from the treetops. There were at least fifty, Dezren all, pale skinned and slender. They were older elves whom Aully had known her whole life, but a few had their bowstrings drawn, arrows aimed at Lady Audrianna, and the rest kept their hands close to the hilts of their khandars. She recognized Enton, Liliquick, Agnon, and Frellum, among others, all of whom had served her father well over the years. These were the elves who had been chosen to keep watch over the forest in the absence of the lord and lady. Not a single one appeared friendly.
The new arrivals formed a circle around the thirty-two survivors who had fled Dezerea. They then parted, and a single elf approached, his jaw rigid, his blue eyes brimming with arrogance. Aully knew him immediately-Ethir Ayers, the elf Bardiya had accused of murdering his parents. Panic filled her. She dropped her hands to her side, curled her fingers into claws, and began whispering words of magic as the elf drew closer to her mother. Slowly she raised her arms, ready to do to Ethir what she had done to the sandcat on the day Kindren had almost died.
But before energy could leap from her palms, her arms were forced to her side and a hand was pressed over her mouth. She struggled against the grip, but it was too strong.
“Leave her be!” she heard Kindren shout, and when she glanced to the side, she saw her love charging toward her, his sword held high. He never reached her, though, for an arrow pierced his shoulder not a moment later, dropping him to the ground. She tried to call out to him, but the fingers that bound her would not loosen their grip. The rest of those who had made the journey, including Aaromar, dropped their weapons and huddled close together.
Aully was hauled to her mother’s side, the hand of her unseen assailant still pressed firmly over her lips. Lady Audrianna did not flinch, not even when Ethir stopped mere inches from her and leaned in so close their noses were almost touching. Aully’s eyes widened, and she kicked all the harder, torn between concern for what might happen to her mother and what had already happened to Kindren.
Ethir glanced at Hadrik, Mella, and Lolly. He jutted his chin at them, and they took off running, disappearing into the trees. He then stepped back and scowled as another elf dragged Kindren toward the rest of the group.
“Mordrik, release her,” Ethir said.
The hands holding Aully finally fell away, and she ran to her love’s side, gaping at the arrow that still protruded from his flesh.
“What is the meaning of this?” her mother asked, voice icy.
“You are no longer wanted here, Audrianna,” Ethir said. “You should have remained dead.”
“You haven’t the right.”
“We have every right.”
“We shall see about that. I demand to see Detrick right this moment. If he truly believes that he can-”
Ethir’s fist struck Lady Audrianna’s face with such force that her nose shattered on impact. The crack was loud as a thunderclap to Aully’s ears. Audrianna teetered to the side and then collapsed, landing hard on the ground beside Kindren. Aully was thrown into a panic as the surrounding elves descended on her fragile group. She remembered the day the Quellan had turned against them, the day she’d watched her father’s head fall from his body. She sobbed and sobbed, certain it was happening again. The last thing she saw was Kindren’s hand squeezing hers tight, and then a bag was flung over her head, covering the world in darkness. She was hauled off the ground and carried, unable to fight her captor. Her body bounced up and down, up and down. Her senses were muffled by the sack, and she could only hear indecipherable sounds.
Suddenly something hard whacked her in the head, then in the legs, and she began to sway. It was a weightless feeling, and she began to feel sick. She clamped her mouth shut, closed her eyes, and prayed for the goddess to keep her safe.
We made the wrong choice, Celestia, she thought. I am sorry.
Eventually the sick feeling passed. After a while, she heard muted voices, and the creak of hinges, and then her ankles, the only part of her not covered by the sack, were brushed with cool air. The sounds that assailed her were much louder now. She could make out distinctive voices, the tramping of feet, the thud of spears being jabbed against a wooden floor.
She was carelessly tossed to the ground, landing hard on her side and jarring her elbow. The sack was then lifted from her, and she was blinded by brightness. Covering her eyes with one hand, she curled into a ball, ready for whatever horrors awaited her.
For a long moment, no sound reached her ears but breathing. Feeling eyes upon her, she swallowed her fear and dropped her hands from her face. To her astonishment, she was in a place she knew well-the courtroom of the Lord of Stonewood. She was sprawled out in the middle of the floor, with elves standing guard to her left and right. In front of her, sitting in the Lord’s Chair that had once been her father’s, was her Uncle Detrick. He was dressed in a simple robe and his long russet hair was tied in a knot atop his head.