“Nothing fatal,” Thera chuckled. “Now rest. My friends will be here soon.”
Saida fought her heavy eyelids, though they seemed to be all she could feel. The rest of her body had gone numb. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t—
Saida
Someone was hovering over Saida when she awoke, but the room seemed too bright for her to focus. Or maybe it was just the inside of her head that was too bright. It felt like someone had driven a pick through her skull.
She squeezed her eyes shut, then opened them again, more slowly this time. Her vision came back in increments as her eyes adjusted to the room’s lighting. It wasn’t terribly bright after all, just a lantern and a few candles.
She focused on the lone woman in the room. Thick, dark hair, coiled into a long braid. Large eyes, the irises almost as dark as the hair. Olive skin, the same color as Elmerah’s. “Who—” she croaked, swallowing to wet her dry throat. “Who are you?”
The woman straightened. She seemed as tall as Elmerah too, perhaps a bit taller. She wore a tight suede vest over a loose white blouse, and the hips of her breeches shimmered with small bells and jewels.
“I could ask you the same question,” the woman replied, her full lips curving into a smile.
Saida tried to lift her hands, but something dug painfully into her wrists. She looked down to see she was tied to a wooden chair. Her feet were bound to the legs too. She glanced around, but did not recognize the room in which she sat. The plain wood walls gave nothing away.
She cleared her throat. “I’m Elmerah,” she answered, figuring she’d be wise to stick with the same lie she’d given Thera.
The woman placed her hands on her hips. “How odd. I’ve been looking for an Elmerah, but you are not she. Thera was perplexed as well. Perhaps it’s just coincidence, but I don’t think so.”
Saida tried to put the pieces together, but it felt like a drum circle was occurring inside her brain. Could this woman be looking for the same Elmerah she knew? It seemed likely. They looked similar enough to be sisters.
“I’m sorry,” she began, wishing she at least had her hands free. “I don’t think I know you, nor can I imagine any reason you’d be looking for me.”
The woman’s pleasant smile turned ugly. She placed a hand over each of Saida’s wrists then leaned forward, grinding her bones against the chair arms. A wash of strong spices and herbs hit her nostrils as the woman leaned in even further. “Do not lie to me, girl. I know there was an elven priestess on that ship. Now where is my sister?”
Everything fell into place all at once. “You had something to do with us being taken, didn’t you?”
The woman snorted, then straightened. “You’re in no position to ask questions, girl. Tell me where my sister is and I’ll let you go. I can always fetch another elf for my buyer.”
Saida’s stomach clenched. She was going to be sick. This woman wanted to sell her. “I don’t know where she is,” she answered honestly. “We parted ways.”
The woman leaned in again, her movements too fast for Saida’s bleary eyes to follow. “For your sake, I hope that’s a lie. If you don’t know where she is, I only have one use left for you, and you’re not going to like it.”
“I could help you find her!” she blurted. “I know where she might be.”
“Tell me,” the woman demanded.
Saida shook her head. “It would do you little good. Correct me if I’m wrong, but I get the feeling she would run if she saw you? Allow me to approach her while you lie in wait. Once you capture her, I get my freedom. Deal?”
The woman drummed her fingers over Saida’s wrists. “Fine,” she decided, “but be warned, you are now a tiny little minnow on my hook. If you forget your role, I’ll feed you to the sharks . . . literally.”
Saida’s heart pounded in her throat, but she managed to nod. She saw no other choice. She only hoped Elmerah could forgive her.
Elmerah
Elmerah lifted her tankard to her lips, then scowled upon realizing it was empty. She peered across the table at Alluin, who seemed to be in a similar predicament. The windows had grown dark, and most of the tables were now filled, but the ale was still flowing and that was all that really mattered right now. At some point her hood had fallen back, but no one had given her any trouble . . . yet.
“So tell me truly,” she slurred, lifting a finger to signal the barkeep, “can your kind really track your prey by scent?”
Alluin chuckled. “Yes, though sight is a more reliable tool.”
She giggled. “So you’re just like a dog then? Do you like to be scratched behind the ears?”
He scowled. “I wouldn’t try it if I were you.”
She waved him off. She knew she’d long since gotten any useful information out of him, but now she was a bit too drunk to do anything about it. He’d heard of a growing slave trade within the Capital, but did not know which guild was running it, nor had he heard of Rissine.
The barkeep appeared with more ale. He’d become a bit more friendly since he’d become the owner of nearly half the coin in Elmerah’s purse. Luckily, she still had a second pouch hidden at the back of her belt beneath her cloak.
She sipped her fresh ale, then sighed. She really should have stopped sooner. She needed to find Rissine, then get out of Galterra before it was too late.
She turned her gaze back to Alluin, another snide remark on the end of her tongue, but he was looking right past her. She glanced over her shoulder, spotting a female Valeroot elf with shoulder length hair the same earthy brown as Alluin’s, and with eyes just as green.
She turned back to him, but he was still staring at the girl. “Old lover?” she questioned.
He startled, then shook his head. “Sister, actually. If you really want to know about the slave trade, she’s the one to ask. I can almost guarantee she’s somehow involved.”
Elmerah raised an eyebrow at him. “I take it you two don’t get along?”
“Hardly,” he huffed.
She leaned forward. “Call her over here,” she tried to whisper, though her voice came out a bit louder than intended. “Let’s hold her down and question her.”
“Too late,” he sighed, once again looking past her. “She’s coming this way.”
Elmerah turned to watch the elf girl’s sauntering approach, flanked by two men, one another Valeroot elf and one human.
“Alluin,” the girl purred, leaning her hands against the tabletop near Elmerah. “Are you actually out having fun? How . . . unusual.”
Elmerah scooted her chair back to put the girl fully in her sights.
“And you are?” the girl questioned.
She smiled, though she had a feeling it probably looked more like a snarl. “I could be your new friend if you tell me what I want to know.”
The girl stepped back, looking her up and down. “I’m not sure I want you to be my friend. Arthali are usually more trouble than they’re worth.”
Alluin sighed loudly. “Vessa, do you know anything about young girls being sold into servitude?”
Vessa’s expression faltered. Perhaps Alluin would prove useful after all.
“I’ve heard a few rumors,” she said casually, “nothing more.”
The human half of Vessa’s male escort shifted uncomfortably.
Elmerah watched him closely. There was no way she was letting this trio get away. They could probably lead her right to Rissine.
If only the room wasn’t spinning.
She stood, wedging herself between Vessa and the two men.
Vessa turned with her, trying to back away, but ended up trapped between Elmerah and the table.
She leaned in, knowing Vessa and the men were all furiously deciding whether or not she possessed the fearsome Arthali magic recorded in all the histories. “Now Vessa,” she whispered. “I think we should be friends, because being my enemy is not good for one’s health. All I need to know is where to find Rissine.”
She audibly gulped.
; Elmerah felt a hand on her bicep through her cloak. She gave Alluin a warning look, willing him to step away. She was just seconds away from catching her sister’s trail. She would not let it go.
“Rissine has a warehouse by the southern docks,” Vessa blurted. “That’s where she hides the girls when they first arrive. It’s a huge warehouse with no windows, and a big lock on the door. You can’t miss it.”
“Vessa!” one of the men chided.
Elmerah lifted her hands in surrender and backed away. “Thank you Vessa. I’m glad we could be friends.”
The men tugged Vessa away while she glared at Alluin, as if he were the one who’d made her speak.
Vessa rejoined her table, where her other friends were beginning to rise, their gazes all firmly locked on Elmerah.
“Something tells me we’d better go,” Alluin muttered.
She nodded. Drunken bravado got her into trouble every cursed time. She skirted around the table, edging toward the door.
She didn’t wait for Vessa’s friends to give chase, she had no doubt they would. She vaulted over an empty table and barreled out the door, followed by angry shouts.
She took a sharp left as soon as the night air closed around her, then sprinted down the main street, prepared to dart off as soon as an alley caught her eye. She flinched as footsteps raced up beside her, then relaxed when she realized it was Alluin.
Moments later, the angry shouts made their way out into the street, quickly spotting them judging by their change in tone.
“This way!” Alluin urged, shoving her into a narrow space between two buildings she would have otherwise passed right by.
The space was too narrow to run full out, but she managed to shimmy her way through, emerging into a pitch black back alley.
“Go right!” Alluin hissed, coming out of the space behind her.
She didn’t question him, and instead continued running, her ale-filled belly protesting every step. She realized too late she was running full speed toward a dead end.
“Up on the crates,” Alluin instructed, quickly mounting stacked storage crates against one of the adjacent walls of the dead end. He climbed them so effortlessly she had to stop and stare in awe for a moment.
“My mistake,” she mused. “You’re not a flea-ridden dog, you’re an alley cat.”
He looked down at her from atop the roof. “And you’ll be a dead sow if you don’t get up here.”
She could hear their pursuers emerging from the narrow space behind them, so she didn’t argue. She hopped up onto the crates, climbing onto the taller end of the stack before pulling herself up onto the roof.
“This way,” Alluin instructed.
She followed him, cursing him all the while for being so graceful while drunk. Personally, she was ready to keel over.
He ran to the edge of the long roof, then crept across a thick wooden beam meant to hold the Capital’s purple and white flag on festival days. It conveniently connected to the next building across the street.
She approached the beam, staring down at it dubiously. Alluin was already on the next roof.
“If I break my neck,” she muttered, “I’m coming back to haunt you.”
She placed her boot on the beam, careful not to look down beyond the beam itself. Barely breathing, she put one foot in front of the other. She could hear their pursuers climbing up the crates, but she doubted they’d have the manhood to follow her across the beam.
She exhaled a loud sigh of relief as she reached the next roof, then eyed Alluin. “You know, I’m quite sure I don’t like you.”
“The feeling is mutual. Now come this way.”
He took off at a run again, and she followed, though at this point she was ready to turn around and face whoever had made it this far and greet them with her cutlass. Still, it was probably best to avoid a confrontation. If someone ended up dead, Vessa would likely have to explain to Rissine what had happened. If no one died, she’d likely keep her mouth shut and hope for the best. Elmerah wanted Rissine to be surprised when she showed up to throttle her.
Alluin swung down off the roof ahead of her onto a narrow walkway bordering the second story of the building. He obviously knew his way around, because she never would have spotted the barely visible edge of the walkway otherwise. She knelt and gripped the edge of the roof, then swung down after him. She nearly shrieked when he grabbed her and shoved her in through an open door.
Releasing her, he gently shut the door behind them, then held a finger to his lips.
One set of footsteps sounded across the roof above. She really wanted to see who’d had the guts to follow them across the beam, but instead she crouched down and waited.
A male voice shouted something unintelligible, then the footsteps retreated.
She breathed a sigh of relief, then peered across the small space at Alluin. Other than the two of them, there were only a few pieces of furniture covered in heavy sheets, and a staircase leading downward.
Once she was sure the person above wasn’t coming back, she whispered, “What is this place? Or were we simply lucky enough to find an abandoned home at the right moment?”
He stood from his crouch. “My employer owns many buildings across the Capital. I’ve stayed here a few times.”
“What would a smuggler want with an empty home in the middle of town?” She glanced around. “I don’t see any goods.”
He walked across the wooden floorboards and peered out the window facing the back alley. “I never said I was a smuggler.”
“Well you didn’t deny it.” She leaned against the wall. The ale was wearing off, leaving her with a splitting headache. “So you’re not a smuggler, but you have a secret way into the city, and your sister works for slavers.”
He glared at her. “If you think for a second I condone my sister’s actions—”
She held up a hand. “I don’t, which is why I’m confused. If you’re not after Faerune moonliquor or exotic slaves, why do you want Saida?”
He laughed. “You thought I was hoping to acquire moonliquor from Saida? That stuff is poison to anyone but the Faerune elves.”
“Yes, poison,” she chuckled, “but fun poison. If you were a smuggler, that’s exactly what you’d want from a Faerune elf.”
“But I’m not a smuggler.”
She sighed. “No, you’re not, and you’re also avoiding the question. What do you want with Saida?”
He stepped away from the window and leaned against the adjacent wall. Though the room was mostly dark, there was enough moonlight to see his pensive expression. “I’ll tell you what I want with Saida, if you tell me what you want with Rissine Volund.”
Her jaw dropped. “So you do know who she is! You lied to me.”
“I wanted to be sure you weren’t part of her . . . flock.”
Her face burned. Damn sly elves. “Tell me what you want with Saida, and I’ll tell you what I want with Rissine.”
He stared at her for several long moments, then answered, “You first.”
She shook her head. “No.”
He pushed off the wall and took a step toward her.
She bristled, ready should he choose to attack.
He sighed. “Look, you already know much more about me than I do about you. You know about the secret tunnel and the storehouse. If you want to know more, you’re going to have to give me a reason to trust you.”
She gritted her teeth. She didn’t like it, but she understood where he was coming from. If he betrayed her, she had little at stake. If she betrayed him, well, she already knew a very big secret.
“Rissine is my sister,” she grumbled. “My full name is Elmerah Volund. We parted ways after our mother was killed, and haven’t spoken in nearly a decade.”
He didn’t seem surprised by her explanation, but then again, there weren’t many Arthali in Galterra, and she and Rissine looked a lot alike . . . or at least they used to. She had no idea what her sister looked like now.
“Why seek her out now
?” he questioned.
“I didn’t,” she growled. “The snake-tongued witch had me kidnapped by pirates. That’s how I met Saida. She was another victim. I’ve come to Galterra to make sure it doesn’t happen again. I just want to live out my days in my swamp in peace.”
“You live in a swamp?”
She glared. “Yes. It’s peaceful, and now you know my secret. It’s time to tell me yours.”
He continued to watch her, as if debating telling her the truth.
She crossed her arms and tapped her foot. She’d give him a moment to decide, but if he chose wrong . . . well, she was not above beating the information out of him.
Finally, he asked, “Do I have your word that you are not part of the slave trade, nor will you ever be?”
“My role in the slave trade began and ended with my kidnapping. Well, except for the boot I plan to shove against a certain slaver’s face.”
He took another step toward her. “If you breathe word of this to anyone, many lives will be at stake.”
Her throat went dry in anticipation. She had a feeling she was about to learn another very big secret.
He stood just a single pace away. “I’m not a smuggler of goods,” he explained, keeping his voice low, “but a smuggler of people. We’ve been helping elves out of the city, many of whom were caught up in the slave trade like you and Saida. They’re sending word to the Valeroot clans that the trade treaties with the empire are about to fall through.”
She blinked at him. She hadn’t expected a secret that big. “How can you possibly know that?”
“We’ve been watching Rissine for a long time. She’s not running a small-time operation. We believe she’s in league with the emperor. He’s shipping slaves to the East, and signing new treaties with the Dreilore and Nokken.”
“But what about Faerune?” she hissed. “These treaties have kept the peace since the Arthali and Akkeri were exiled.”
He shook his head. “I don’t know. I can’t say all that the emperor plans, but why keep these new treaties a secret from Faerune unless he plans to break the old ones?”
The Witch of Shadowmarsh (The Moonstone Chronicles Book 1) Page 6