by Sarah Hawke
I could feel the guilt pouring off of him, and I placed my hand upon his chest again. “I saved you, and it was my decision. I don’t regret it.”
Larric shook his head, but after a few seconds he touched my hand and squeezed my fingers. I squeezed back.
“I don’t know what to do now,” I admitted. “Master Kristoff is…different. He was furious that we failed.”
“The more desperate he gets, the more unhinged he’ll become,” Larric replied. “Without the armies of the Vale, he won’t have enough soldiers to challenge Emperor Lucian. He’s impotent and he knows it.”
“And now he knows about you and Karethys,” I rasped, shaking my head. “I didn’t want to tell him, but he knew I was holding back. I had to give him something or he might have—”
“It’s all right,” Larric soothed, squeezing my fingers again. “He already knew the Covenant excommunicated me for cooperating with a vaeyn. He just didn’t know her name or any of the specific details.”
I pursed my lips. “You don’t think he’ll be upset?”
“Of course he’ll be upset. All his grand schemes are slowly falling apart.” Larric sighed and leaned up again. He glanced down as if he’d only just realized our hands were still linked, and he quickly relaxed his grip and pulled away. “He, um…he won’t be able to do anything.”
I grinned coyly at his discomfort. He obviously wasn’t used to appearing vulnerable; he wasn’t used to showing any kind of emotion at all.
“So Kristoff knows Darkstone made a pact with the vaeyn to try and destabilize Sanctum and throw the Covenant into chaos,” Larric went on, clearing his throat. “But he doesn’t know any details about Karethys or that Emperor Lucian is apparently an Unbound.”
I nodded. “I have no idea what he’ll do now. I doubt he’ll be able to convince the other Grand Dukes to ally with the vaeyn, even temporarily. And there’s no way any of them will agree to make Darkstone the new Emperor.”
“No, definitely not.” Larric let out a deep breath as his eyes flicked back and forth in thought. “Kristoff could stick with the Quorum and hope there’s enough chaos at some point that they can strike, or he could abandon Arland and Farrow and ally with Darkstone instead.”
“Arland especially has already taken great risks to help him,” I said. “If Master Kristoff turns again him, I can’t imagine what would happen.”
“Bloodshed. Backstabbing. Just another day in the Imperial Court.” Larric grumbled in the back of his throat. “No, Kristoff only has one real option here—he’ll have to wait and see who makes the next move.”
“Do you think the vaeyn will actually attack the city?”
“I don’t know. I have no way to contact Karethys. Not as long as we’re trapped here in Sanctum.” Larric turned and looked at me. “We need to get out of here. We need to find a way back to the Faedari.”
I glanced away and closed my eyes. Six months ago, the mere mention of the Faedari rebels was enough to terrify me. I saw them as murderers and traitors. Even as recently as Lakewatch I had still harbored plenty of doubts about joining them. I would never have met with their operatives if I’d been alone.
But now, just a few weeks later, everything had changed. I was legitimately angry rather than just confused or anxious. My hands trembled in rage when I thought about the mistreatment of my people, but I wasn’t content to just lie around and seethe. I actually wanted to do something about it. The only lingering question was what.
“I could try to sneak us out of the estate,” I whispered. “But you’re still weak and need rest.”
Larric grunted in discomfort as he tried to stretch his muscles. “Even if I were healthy, we couldn’t just walk out the door. And there’s no way we can leave Sanctum without help. I’ll need to try and contact one of the rebel operatives in the city.”
“You know where they are?”
“Not specifically, but I know how to get them a message.” Larric sighed and locked his eyes on me again. “It might take a few days or even weeks. We’ll need to hold tight until then.”
“I understand,” I whispered. “I wish there had been another way to save you, but—”
“Don’t blame yourself,” he said, grabbing my hand and squeezing it once more. “For anything.”
I smiled down at him. All my lingering regrets about returning to Sanctum evaporated when he smiled back.
“I should get back to my quarters,” I whispered.
“Right,” Larric agreed. He released my hand and glanced away, but even in the dim light I caught the slightest flush of color in his cheeks. “I’ll wait a few hours before I call the guards and let them know I’m awake. Kristoff will want to speak with me right away.”
I nodded. “No doubt.”
“It might be difficult for us to meet in private, but I’ll let you know if and when I contact the rebels. Just…just take care of yourself in the meantime.”
“I will,” I promised. I placed my hand on his shoulder one last time, but he didn’t turn and look. A part of me was glad. If he had smiled at me again, I might not have been able to force myself to walk away…
I made it all the way back to my chambers before I allowed myself to pause and breathe normally. I hadn’t been this relieved in a long time. As bizarre as sounded, Larric was the only person in the world I knew I could trust…
Sighing, I slipped under the covers and closed my eyes. The lingering echoes of his touch tickled across my flesh until I finally fell asleep.
Chapter Four: The Plan
I slept as deeply as I had in months, and no one disturbed me until well after dawn. I awakened with a start to the smell of fresh bread, and when I rolled over I saw Astanya sitting at the desk with a small plate of biscuits and fruit.
“Good morning,” she said, flashing me a wide smile. “I would have woken you earlier but you seemed so peaceful. Besides, I figured you could use the rest after your trip.”
I wiped the fog from my eyes and nodded. I had needed the rest—badly. “I did, thank you,” I told her, smiling back. “I can’t believe I didn’t hear you come in…”
“I tried to be quiet,” she said, offering me the plate. “Master Kristoff said he wouldn’t call for you before noon.”
“Ah.” I bit into a piece of fruit. It was surprisingly difficult not to throw manners to the wind and gorge myself. I’d barely eaten anything on the trip to Sanctum. General Torelius rarely fed his slaves more than once a day, apparently, even his avenari.
“You’ll be happy to know that Captain Larric finally regained consciousness sometime last night,” Astanya informed me. “One of the servants came to wake Master Kristoff just before dawn.”
“Thank the Triad,” I breathed. “Will he be all right?”
“Master Kristoff seemed to think so, but he sent me back here once they started talking.”
I nodded and did my best to appear relieved. It wasn’t difficult—the hard part was concealing my growing anxiety. If Master Kristoff didn’t believe Larric, or if he overreacted and used his magic to discern the truth…
Larric can take care of himself. Right now, you just need to bide your time and be patient. There’s nothing else you can do for him.
The mental scolding didn’t really help, but I kept at it anyway. I needed to be calm and collected whenever Master Kristoff summoned me again, otherwise our plan would crumble before it even began. He could never learn the truth about Karethys or the Faedari. Just like he could never learn that I was finally willing to betray him.
“You were brave to save him,” Astanya said after a moment. “I don’t know if I could have done the same. I would have been so scared…”
“I just did what I had to,” I told her, hoping she didn’t press for details. “I knew the healers could save him.”
She smiled again and stood. “Well, I should draw a bath. I was waiting for you to get up first.”
She rifled through the wardrobe as I ate, and I watched as she selected another outfit.
As strange as it felt to suddenly be sharing my once private quarters, it felt even stranger to imagine Master Kristoff spending an entire evening with another woman. I could smell the sex upon her, but just like before the thought didn’t make me jealous—it made me angry.
Astanya departed a few moments later, and I used the privacy to reach out to the Aether and calm my nerves. I felt like a different person whenever its power was coursing through me, even when I wasn’t channeling with any specific purpose. It was almost like sliding into a warm bath of pure magic.
I was more or less composed by the time Astanya returned, and we spent the next several hours in idle conversation. As much as the lingering territorial part of me wanted to resent her, I didn’t. The more I spoke with her, the more I liked her. And the rage inside me continued to swell.
Master Kristoff summoned me just after noon, and the house guards escorted me to the estate’s large conference chamber. I half-expected them to bind my wrists and attach one of the slave collars, but they didn’t. They simply dropped me off inside the room and then sealed the double doors behind me.
“You’ve already heard the good news about Larric, I trust,” Kristoff said from behind his desk. He was busy writing something and didn’t look up.
“Astanya told me, yes. He will recover, then?”
“It’s difficult to say,” Kristoff replied noncommittally. When the heartbeats passed by and he didn’t elaborate, I was tempted to press him on the issue…but then he abruptly set down his quill and stood. “I spoke to him about Skyfall and Darkstone. We even had a nice little conversation about his secret dark elf fetish.”
I didn’t reply. At this point, I figured the less information I volunteered, the better.
“The Covenant exiled him for daring to work with a heretic, even one who was helping him hunt down a warlock.” Kristoff scoffed. “I never thought anything of it at the time. In fact, I hired him as quickly as possible knowing he would be desperate. And I never regretted that decision until now.”
“If not for Larric, the bandits outside the Infintium would have killed me,” I said. “And he’s the only reason I survived Korvale. He was wounded in my defense.”
Master Kristoff studied me for a few moments before he finally beckoned for me over. My thoughts flashed back to the last day before our caravan had departed. He had taken me roughly right here on the edge of his desk, and he’d even shared a new channeling technique with me. Ever since then, my telepathy had been much stronger. I wondered distantly if it was a side effect of the experience.
“This vaeyn shadow knight, Karethys,” Master Kristoff said, “I doubt it’s a coincidence that she was the one the Matriarch sent to negotiate with Darkstone.”
I shrugged. “I do not know, Master.”
“You never spoke with her?”
“Only briefly.”
“Then I assume you also never had the chance to penetrate her mind and learn anything.”
“No, Master, I’m sorry,” I told him. He seemed much calmer than when I first arrived, but I could still feel the rage boiling inside him.
“It’s probably for the best,” he said after a moment. He signaled for me to sit on the desk, and I obeyed without hesitation. His traced his fingers across my bare knee and down my calf. “Shadow knights are powerful channelers, and there’s a good chance she would have noticed your intrusion. I’m more concerned that Larric learned so little. At least you have an excuse for your failure.”
“I’m sure he did his best, my lord. He was just as taken aback as you that Duke Darkstone would be willing to cooperate with the vaeyn.”
Kristoff eyed me curiously, the corner of his mouth curling into a half smile. “I’m surprised you’re willing to defend him so readily. He’s never treated you particularly well.”
I shrugged again and opened my legs a bit wider for him. “As I said, I owe him my life.”
“Indeed. Still…” He leaned forward and placed a hand on each of my knees. “You’re loyal by nature, I think. The Covenant tells us that elves naturally derive pleasure from servitude, but I’ve always been skeptical of that claim. You are a unique gem, Elara. Beautiful, loyal, submissive…you’re everything an elf should be.”
“You honor me, my lord,” I whispered. He stood, and I leaned backwards in anticipation of him lifting my feet onto his shoulders and taking me—
But then he abruptly pushed my legs back together and paced halfway across the room.
“It’s precisely because you are so loyal,” he went on, casually pouring himself a glass of brandy, “that I plan to give you a chance to atone for your failure in the Vale. Despite everything that’s happened, I still have an opportunity to turn this situation to my advantage.”
My brow furrowed as I twisted around to face him. I had no idea what else he thought I could accomplish. I’d already convinced Duke Arland to become his ally, along with the artificers in the Infintium and many of the other nobles in Sanctum. Darkstone was simply out of our reach, and neither Duchess Farrow nor Duchess Zarene would be interested in receiving me…
“The political situation has changed since you left,” Kristoff explained as he pivoted back around and took a sip from his glass. “Duke Arland and his wife have consolidated their forces at Sorthaal’s southern border. They could march across the Wreath and lay siege to Sanctum in a week, possibly less. As you can imagine, this provocation hasn’t gone unnoticed by the Legion or the Covenant. They put more and more pressure on Arland by the day, and he, in turn, puts more pressure upon me.”
“But he can’t simply order his men to attack without help.”
“No, they would be slaughtered and everyone knows it. Duchess Farrow thought he was a fool for responding to my call for aid so quickly, but apparently your ministrations were even more effective than I anticipated—both Arland and Luriel have been steadfast allies.”
He took a second, longer sip as his eyes glazed over. “If she’d had her way, Farrow would have continued dragging her feet until Darkstone was fully committed and marching across the Vale. But apparently time finally caught up with her.”
I frowned in confusion. “My lord?”
“She’s dead,” Kristoff said. “A week after you left she took ill, and a few days later she passed in her sleep.”
“Merciful Triad,” I whispered. I had no particular love for Duchess Farrow, especially considering I’d only seen her in person twice. But my mind immediately started spinning theories about who could have been involved in her death. The vaeyn? Emperor Lucian? Someone else?”
“Her son, Bolvir, is now Grand Duke of the Wreath,” Kristoff said. “He’s naïve and foolish, but he does understand that the Empire cannot survive with Lucian on the throne. He’s sided with me in the Quorum, and he’s already begun consolidating his mother’s armies and resources. With the three of us united, we can place considerably more pressure on the Emperor and the Hierophant.”
“But they still won’t call off the war,” I whispered. “And they won’t dedicate the Legion the liberating Glorinfel.”
“No, of course not. Which means that for the moment, we’re stuck in something of a stalemate. We can’t make a move without Darkstone, but the Emperor and Zarene can’t make a move on us without triggering an all-out civil war.”
“Then what will you do?” I asked, genuinely curious about what he had planned. “If you accept Duke Darkstone’s offer, he promised to convince the vaeyn to abandon Glorinfel.”
“A promise he has no intention of keeping, and even if he did I don’t particularly care,” Kristoff nearly spat. “No, there’s no point in allying with Darkstone now. Larric told me all about this ‘treaty’ he signed with the vaeyn. The Quorum will never agree to it. If they even whispered about working with the dark elves, the Covenant would dispatch Inquisitors to hunt them down. The Empire would descend into civil war overnight.”
My thoughts flashed back to Karethys and Larric speaking about her people’s ultimate objective. The v
aeyn wanted to see an Imperial civil war, of course; it was the only way they could ever win. But she’d also suggested that Emperor Lucian seemed to want the same thing…
“The only sensible course of action is to turn Darkstone’s plan on its head,” Kristoff went on after he swigged down the final gulp of his liquor. “He believes he can sit back behind his mountains and play all sides against the middle. But I think he underestimates the fervor of the Covenant—and possibly the ruthlessness of our young Emperor.”
I shook my head. “I don’t understand, my lord.”
Kristoff smiled and set the empty glass down on the desk next to me. “I’m going to tell Lucian about Darkstone’s plan—all of it, in great detail. And I won’t stop with him. By the end of the month, every bard and gossip and town crier in the Empire will be whispering about the Vale’s treachery. The public will demand that Lucian take action.”
“Even though the Legion continues to lose ground to the vaeyn?” I asked.
“It won’t matter. Like I said, Aemond underestimates the pettiness of the Hierophant and her Inquisitors. He doesn’t believe they’ll go after him in the middle of a war, but he’s wrong. And once they do, the Emperor’s forces will be split. The Quorum will finally have its chance to strike.”
I nodded. “In other words, just because Darkstone won’t support you directly doesn’t mean you can’t still make use of his power.”
Kristoff smiled at me. “I’m glad you’ve learned something, at least. Politics, like war, are a fluid thing. With careful manipulation, nearly any obstacle can be transformed into an advantage.”
I smiled back, but there was no emotion behind it. Everything he’d just said made perfect sense…except for the fact he only knew part of the story. He had no idea that the vaeyn were working with the Faedari—and he certainly had no idea that the Emperor might have been, too.
“All of which brings me back to you.” Kristoff placed his hands upon my knees again. “Your redemption will be difficult but gratifying. If you succeed, you may very well save the entire Empire.”