Elmerah placed her elbows on the table, using her hands to support her chin as she leaned forward. “I didn’t offer to help because the elves are the best trackers around, and the Nokken can use his nose. You and I would simply get in the way. We are more useful waiting here to see if Isara shows up.”
“And the hot meal and wine had nothing to do with it.”
Elmerah rolled her eyes, wondering if she should tell her sister the truth. As soon as discussions had begun, it was clear no one was going to volunteer to wait with Rissine. They all went to look for Isara instead. Even Zirin. Or perhaps he only went because he was Rissine‘s spy.
Rissine mirrored her position, observing her. “So many thoughts dance through your eyes, sister. Is there something you would like to ask me?”
What were you doing with the High King of the Akkeri? she thought. Out loud, she asked, “Do you think we’ll be able to buy passage on a ship back to the mainland?”
Rissine nodded. “It will be a pirate ship, but yes, I have enough to buy us passage. What we will do once we reach the mainland though—”
“You know what we must do,” Elmerah interrupted. The plan had never changed. They had only set sail to escape the Dreilore, and to evade the Arthali hunting them.
Rissine glanced around. The fishermen had cleared out, leaving them alone with only the proprietor, who had his back to them as he stirred his large cauldron of fish stew. She leaned closer, pressing her body against the small table. “And just how do you plan on killing a demon when you can’t summon even a lick of magic? I didn’t track you down just to watch you die. We should return to Faerune.”
Rissine’s words were like a punch in the gut. “To do what? Keep waiting? Keep watching people die?” She shook her head. “He turned our own people against us. They will track us wherever we go, and if they catch us without Isara, they will kill us.”
“Or give us to Egrin,” Rissine added. “It does seem he wants us alive, for now.”
Elmerah shivered, recalling her time spent with the demon emperor. “He would put us in magic nullifying shackles. Then he would beat us and crush the air from our lungs repeatedly until we were weakened. Once we couldn’t fight back, he would do anything to find out where our magic comes from. To use it just like he’ll use the moonstones he stole from the elves.”
Rissine watched her closely, absorbing the information. Elmerah had never shared the specific details of her time in captivity with her sister. “And what do you think he’s going to use all of this magic for, once he has it?”
She shrugged. “Nothing good. Demon portals are already popping up everywhere. Maybe he wants to build a new empire. An empire of demons.”
“But if he can already open the portals, then why gather magic? It would seem he already has all that he needs.”
Elmerah watched her sister, once again wondering about the Akkeri. She had never told Rissine about her experience with the Fogfaun, and what they had told her about Egrin. She decided on the partial truth. “Don’t ask me how I came across this information, but as a demon, Egrin comes from a realm of magic. There simply isn’t enough magic floating around this land for the taking. It keeps him from achieving his true power. We are both like him, our magic comes from within, but this land is our natural . . . habitat.”
Rissine stroked her chin, considering. “Well that explains why he wants the magic, but not what he’s going to do with it.”
“I don’t think any of us will know that until it happens.”
“Unless Daemon Saredoth knows,” she countered. “You should have let me torture him.”
“We would have lost Isara.” Not to mention that Elmerah didn’t have the stomach for torture. She would kill someone who attacked her, or she would frighten the life out of someone to get answers, but that was different.
“And now they may both be lost to us. So if we cannot return to Faerune, we need a new plan.”
Elmerah leaned back in her seat. The proprietor had exited the hut, leaving them in silence save the distant chatter of the docks, and the gentle bubbling of the stewpot. “We? You would come with me?”
Rissine wrinkled her nose, scrunching the skin around her dark eyes. “Well I’m not letting you go alone. Especially when you’re having . . . issues with your magic.”
Curse it all, she thought. I need to know what she was doing with the Akkeri. “Rissine, Killian saw—”
Shouts from the docks cut her off. Rissine stood and moved to the entrance, peering outward.
Shaking her head, Elmerah joined her, and was quickly filled with elation. A large ship was coming in toward the dock. One large enough to carry them all to the mainland, for a price. The sunset cast rays of pink light across the ship, making it difficult to determine much more than that.
Rissine crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes as the ship neared, its gray sails now distinguishable. Pirate sails. “We will go down and see who disembarks. I’ll need to come up with a good story to tell them.”
“I’ll let you handle that part,” Elmerah agreed. “You have more experience with pirates.”
Rissine chuckled. “You won’t ever forgive me for sending them after you, will you?”
“I won’t ever forgive you for a lot of things,” Elmerah muttered, but her sister was already walking out toward the docks.
Daemon
Why me? was all Daemon could think as they trudged through the cooling sand. He was sure his cheeks were as red as Isara’s at this point, burnt by the same sun that now lowered, blinding him with its reflection off the water.
He knew there would be no reprieve from hunger or the ache in his feet any time soon. As far as they walked, they would never reach civilization. Egrin had seen to that. Instead of using his magic on Isara, he had used it on their surroundings, cloaking them so fully with illusion that no one would ever find them.
Bond with her, he had ordered. As if the demon emperor knew anything about bonding.
He probably knew just as much as Daemon, really. He had never been good with relationships, especially those with his sister and father. He was just so unlike either of them. They could never see eye to eye.
He supposed now was the time to learn if he ever wanted to get off of this cursed island. He would have to convince Isara that he knew best. To convince her to stand against the witches rather than Egrin.
He suspected the possibility was the only thing keeping Isara alive. If Egrin couldn’t use her, he would have her killed.
As much as Damon resented his family, he couldn’t let that happen.
Saida
Despite her hesitance to light a fire, Saida was grateful Malon had convinced her. She huddled close to the flames. Some primal part of her told her that light was safe, darkness was danger. The best path to survival was to light up the darkness.
To light up the darkness, and hope no greater demons came. According to Malon, the lesser would be afraid of the fire.
She watched him out of the corner of her eye sitting next to her, noticing how the flames danced on his iridescent hair. They were supposed to be resting while Brosod took the first shift at standing guard, but neither had made any attempt at sleep.
She glanced over her shoulder at Brosod, standing a few paces away, her back turned as she watched the darkness.
“There is something on your mind,” Malon observed.
She turned to find him watching her, his reflective eyes making him look half-blind. “There are many things on my mind. How could there not be?”
He leaned close and lowered his voice. “You were going to ask me something before the greater demon attacked.”
She went still. Was she a fool to even ask? She wasn’t sure, but she would be a bigger fool to let Egrin manipulate her. “Why did it have to be the Dreilore? Why was letting them into Faerune the only option?”
He turned his gaze toward the fire, as if he found it difficult to meet her eyes while he explained, “For a city to be rebuilt, it must first fall.
Nothing would ever change otherwise.”
“But the innocent lives—”
“Yes, some were lost, but I convinced much of the guard to abandon the city not to end lives, but to spare them.”
“That doesn’t make any sense.”
Malon sighed. He looked tired. More tired than she had ever seen him. “Egrin’s goal was the moonstones. He did not care how many elves lived or died. The Dreilore did not seek out those who hid in their homes. They went straight for the High Temple. They would have accomplished their task no matter what role I played, but in having the guard stand down, lives were spared.”
It felt like a fist gripped her heart and was starting to squeeze. “Except my mother.”
“She was supposed to be safe, hiding with the rest of the High Council. I’ve told you that.”
She took a few deep breaths, forcing away the pain. She could not think of it now. “You gave our people’s magic to a demon. You let the Dreilore in on the assumption that they wouldn’t burn the homes with innocents inside.”
Finally, he met her eyes. “He would have taken everything. By making a deal with him, I was able to make my own plan. I was able to claim the Crown of Arcale.”
She pressed her palm against the pain in her chest. “You were able to take it after my mother died protecting it.”
He lifted a hand toward her, hesitated, then finally set it upon her shoulder. “If I could have saved her, I would have. I was too late. Elmerah tried her best to avenge her. She saved your father.”
“I know,” she breathed. “And now she needs me, and I’m stuck in the demon realm.”
“We’ll reach her soon.”
Tears threatened, choking her next words. “I can’t lose her too, or my father.”
His hand slid across her shoulder. When she didn’t move away, he pulled her a little closer. “I won’t let you down again.”
She felt frozen, and unbearably cold despite the fire. “You can’t promise that.”
“No, I can’t promise that those you care about won’t die. I can’t promise that either of us will survive this. But I can promise that I won’t let you down. In this life, our own actions are all we can control.”
She trembled, considering pulling away, but in truth she appreciated the comfort. She had closed herself off so fully after her mother’s death, she had never allowed anyone to console her. “I still don’t forgive you for what happened to Faerune. You could have warned them. They could have fought.”
“They would have died.”
She moved her fingers to brush the circlet at her belt. “I’m going to avenge them. I won’t let my mother’s death be in vain.”
“Of that, I have no doubt.”
She pulled away enough to see his small smile. While she could not fully accept his answers, she understood. She finally understood why he had done it. But that didn’t mean that it was right. And it showed her just how ruthless Malon could be in pursuit of his goals. She wanted to trust him—he had just told her the truth—but his reasoning didn’t quite sit right, and that’s what Egrin had wanted. He wanted her to fear what Malon might do next. He wanted her to worry about who else might get killed as a result.
Or maybe Malon had lied, and Egrin was simply waiting for her to figure out the truth.
Either way, the demon emperor had one thing wrong. Even if she didn’t trust Malon. Even if she turned against him, she knew she could never give away the circlets. Her mother had died to keep the Crown of Arcale from Egrin Dinoba, she would sooner die herself then give it to him.
Though her thoughts were a wild tangle, she finally rested, feeling safe in the circle of a traitor’s arms. She knew she could no longer be as she once was. She needed to be as ruthless as Malon, and as brave as Elmerah. But just what would that make her? A traitor? An outcast?
It didn’t matter what titles she bore, she supposed. It was the price of becoming a leader.
Alluin
Alluin returned to the dark, quiet port, beaten and tired. He would find Elmerah, tell her the news, then return to the camp where everyone else waited. His feet dragged across the dirt path. He only wanted rest, but first he had to face Elmerah’s pain and disappointment. They had scoured the entire island, and there was no sign of Isara. Perhaps she had made it to a different island, but in all likelihood, she had gone down with the ship. They had taken her from a peaceful existence and had gotten her killed.
Guilt swam across his skin, coating him like oil. He had helped convince Isara to join them. Her death was on his hands. He had rallied his people to fight, and now more were lost. He brought nothing but ruin to everything he touched.
“Not much of a hunter, are you?” Elmerah’s voice came from behind him.
He turned, finding her leaning against a wall in the shadows of a vacant building. He had walked right past her.
“You didn’t find her,” she observed. “I can read it on your face.”
He moved toward her. “We searched the entire island.”
She inclined her head, draping her dark hair across her shoulder. “At least now we know for sure. Rissine bought us passage to the mainland.”
He leaned against the wall beside her, bone-tired. “We should search one more time in the morning. If we find a smaller boat, we can visit the neighboring islands.”
“She never could have swam so far. She’s gone.”
He fell silent. His heart hurt. Tomorrow they would leave the island, and they would have to admit that those lost were gone forever.
Her bandaged hand brushed his palm, then her fingers laced with his. They stayed silent like that for a long while, a quiet remembrance of all they had lost.
Chapter Seven
Elmerah
Elmerah could hear the others milling around her, but she couldn’t quite bring herself to wake. She listened to the hushed conversations, feeling half in a dream. She had slept with her back in the dirt and leaves, probably further staining her gray coat. She usually chose black for a reason.
Her shoulder wound was a dull throb, aching only slightly more than her burns and the rest of her tired muscles.
“Get up,” her sister’s voice sounded right above her. “We don’t want to miss the ship.”
She let out a groan, still not opening her eyes. “I don’t want to deal with pirates today. The last time didn’t end well for any of us.”
She could clearly picture Rissine standing with her hands on her hips above her, gilded by the early morning light. “Well those nice pirates are our ride back to the mainland, and I’m paying good coin to get us there.”
“They’ll probably just toss us overboard halfway,” she muttered.
“They wouldn’t dare.”
And she was right. The pirates were mortal men. They would be hard-pressed to toss four Arthali overboard without heavy casualties, and they knew it. It was lucky they had agreed to the transport at all. Lucky that Rissine had offered them a rare rhodium gull for their efforts. Greed was a splendid motivator.
Elmerah finally opened her eyes, staring up at her sister looking down.
Rissine’s long black hair draped across either side of her face. Her expression softened. “Best not to think about it,” she said, then walked away.
Elmerah didn’t ponder long on what she meant. There were too many things she didn’t want to think about. She sat up and rubbed her aching head, glancing around their impromptu camp. Most of their supplies had been lost when the ship sank, so there wasn’t much to pack up. They would buy what they could at port before their departure. Alluin waited across the clearing, speaking with Vessa and Vail.
Elmerah wrinkled her nose as she glared at the healer’s back, remembering her words the day before. Stupid elf.
She stood and stretched her uninjured arm over her head. As she lowered it, Celen approached and looped an elbow around the back of her neck. He smelled like sweat and seaweed. “I thought you were going to snore forever.”
“I wasn’t snoring,”
she hissed, wincing as his weight strained her wound. She noticed Merwyn and Killian huddled close together, chatting about who knew what. Such an unlikely pair to form a friendship. They all were.
“I will miss the little sparrow,” Celen said solemnly.
Elmerah felt her eyes darken. “I don’t want to talk about it.” She pulled away from his arm and walked toward Alluin and the other elves.
She only made it halfway, then stopped as the tiny hairs at the back of her neck prickled. A familiar sensation chilled her bones.
Rissine was at her side in an instant, drawing her rapier. “Do you feel it?”
Elmerah reached for her cutlass, then cringed when she remembered it wasn’t there. She had never been skilled at directing her magic without a weapon, and now she might not be able to summon it at all.
Celen reached her other side. “What are you two suddenly up in arms about?”
“Demons,” they said in unison.
Celen was yet to encounter them. He wouldn’t recognize the air of unease that accompanied their presence.
Everyone in the camp had stopped talking, all turning to watch Elmerah and Rissine.
“Be ready!” Rissine shouted.
Those still with weapons drew them, and Zirin approached Rissine’s other side. Rissine lifted her rapier. Seconds later, thunder answered.
Elmerah’s gut clenched at the sound of something large slithering through the grass and brush. Without warning, it reared before them, a creature like a giant centipede with deep purple scales. The camp exploded into motion as more creatures reared up around them.
Rissine’s lightning flashed down, striking the nearest demon. Rumbling earth signaled the start of Celen’s magic and a demon was swallowed whole into the ground right before Elmerah’s eyes.
She staggered back behind Rissine and Celen. She reached for her fire, but nothing answered.
Empire of Demons (The Moonstone Chronicles Book 4) Page 7