He watched Malon out of the corner of his eye, walking near Saida. Could they trust the elf to not turn the power of the circlets against them? He knew with disturbing surety the answer was no. Malon would need to be parted from the circlet before any could rest easy. Beyond that, the relic should be destroyed.
He scented smoke on the wind, and heard crying as they passed another home. The circlet should be destroyed, but what if the Dreilore returned? They had fled, abandoning the city, but there was no guarantee they would not regroup and attack. And Egrin’s death did not eliminate the demons coming through portals across the land. The fight was far from over, could they in good conscience destroy their best weapon?
His eyes caught movement down the hill ahead—someone peeking out of an alleyway. Another head quickly emerged, then withdrew, then Vessa ran out of the alley where she’d been hiding. She hurried up the hill with the other elves following behind her, then propelled herself straight toward Alluin. “We heard what sounded like an explosion toward the castle. We were just coming to save you!”
Alluin embraced his sister as she reached him, lifting her feet off the ground as he spun her in a circle. It was a gesture remembered only from childhood—he couldn’t recall the last time he had hugged her in earnest, and he found himself reluctant to let her go.
Then Vail reached him with her judgmental air and the moment was over. He lightly set his sister on her feet. “Have you been near the port?” he asked.
Vessa shook her head, glancing at the other elves. “No, we made for the main gates, but the army had already passed.” She shivered. “The destruction there—the corpses were all burned.” She glanced at Elmerah, then turned back to search his face. “Is it over?”
“Almost,” he assured her. “I’ll explain later. We believe Rissine is at the docks with the Akkeri. We are headed that way, but you should go to the keep. Isara is there.”
Vessa’s eyes widened, and he realized he had left out the most important part.
“Egrin Dinoba is dead. Our lost people can rest easy.”
Vail shook her head in disbelief, her eyes landing first on Saida and Malon, then on Elmerah. “How? How did you manage to defeat him?”
“It was Alluin,” Elmerah explained, stepping close to him.
Feeling his cheeks burning, he quickly averted his gaze. “It was all of us. We did it together. And moving forward, we must all work toward the same goals. Humans, elves, and Arthali. We are stronger this way.”
“In that case,” Vessa cut in, “we will accompany you to the docks. We didn’t encounter many militia on our way here, but there are people hiding in their homes, and some still running in the streets. We may very well run into trouble along the way.”
He looked to Elmerah to find her giving him a small smile. He knew just what she was thinking. There may be troubles ahead, but nothing could compare to what they had already faced.
Rissine
Rissine leaned heavily on Zirin as she wiped the sweat from her brow. Taking the port had almost been too easy, and she knew something else must be going on in another part of the city. The soldiers and Dreilore who fought them were now either dead, or had fled deeper into the city. There should have been more of a fight.
“We should tend your wound,” Zirin said.
He had come out of the battle unscathed, which she supposed was fair enough since he was still nursing an arrow wound in his leg.
She would have preferred something like that to having her side sliced open by a Dreilore blade. She pressed one hand across her ribs, trying to slow the bleeding. “We can tend it after we find Elmerah.”
“You’re in no condition to fight a demon.”
Some of the Akkeri milling about the port awaiting orders glanced over at his words. Perhaps more of them spoke the common tongue than she realized.
Anxious to be away from the Akkeri and closer to her sister, she nudged Zirin to start walking, then froze as a meaty palm clamped around her shoulder, sending a thrill of pain down her side. Wincing, she looked over her shoulder at Hotrath.
“I won’t have you running off, witch. You must still fulfill your part of the bargain. The priestess is within the city, I can sense the circlet.”
So Saida was here. As much as Rissine was dreading the encounter, with Saida here, maybe it meant Elmerah had already been rescued. “We won’t find your priestess or my sister just standing around here. We need to move further into the city.”
“Do we?” He still gripped her shoulder, but he was peering past her.
Rissine could hardly believe her eyes. Elmerah looked like she had spent several days trapped in Ilthune’s dungeon, but she was alive. They were all alive. They hadn’t needed her at all.
Malon and Saida came into view as they crested the rise in the street.
Hotrath’s hand on her shoulder tightened. “I hope you have a plan, witch. You do not want to make an enemy of me.”
If Elmerah was here, that meant she had escaped Egrin. Maybe she had even killed him. Could she kill Hotrath too? Would she want to save her big sister from her own foolish mistake?
She spotted movement in some of the surrounding windows near the docks, frightened city folk unable to remain in hiding while such a confrontation was about to occur.
“You will need to release me if I am to get close to her,” she said through gritted teeth. Alluin was near Elmerah. Celen and Killian were there too. Her sister would know everything by now.
Elmerah and the others stopped walking just before the wooden docks. She expected Elmerah to speak first, but instead she looked to Saida.
Saida and Malon stepped forward, and with a nod of encouragement from the priestess, a small, rather unattractive elf joined them. “I would address the High King!” Saida called out.
Rissine noticed the circlets that both elves wore. She knew Hotrath was afraid of the power they could wield together, just as Egrin had been.
Hotrath squeezed her shoulder so tightly her knees nearly buckled. Without Zirin keeping her upright, she would have fallen. Hotrath raised his voice, “Send the priestess alone, or I will snap the witch’s neck!”
This wasn’t going to work. No one would risk themselves for her, not after all she had done. She had orchestrated Saida’s initial kidnapping. She had given her to the emperor knowing full well that Egrin had intended to give her to the Akkeri.
To her surprise, Saida patted Malon’s shoulder, then walked forward without him. The small, ugly elf hurried after her. The Akkeri had fallen so utterly silent that Rissine could hear the elves’ light footsteps echoing across the dock.
Saida walked straight toward them, stopping roughly five paces away to look up at Rissine, Hotrath, and Zirin. She seemed so tiny and defenseless compared to any of them, but the look in her pale eyes was not one of fear. The other elf huddled in his cloak just behind her, wringing his hands.
Observing Hotrath, Saida tilted her head. “You’re the reason your people are cursed, aren’t you?”
His fingers flexed around Rissine’s shoulder, making her see stars. “You speak nonsense, priestess. Come with me, break my curse, and I will leave all of your people in peace. Refuse, and we will take the city for our own.”
Saida smiled softly. The moonstones on her circlet seemed to shine with inner light. “It was the circlet. You had the Crown of Cindra, but not the Crown of Arcale. Cindra was a healer, and you tried to use her magic for destruction.”
“You are but a child. You know nothing of this.”
“Do not lie to me,” Saida warned.
Hotrath’s grip slackened. “H-how do you know all of this?”
“The circlet speaks to me. I do not know if the voice is Cindra’s, maybe it is something else, but it told me the story of a seafaring elf. He led his crew in search of riches, pillaging islands and small villages along the way. In a temple, he found a circlet, hidden away. He stole it, and because he had magic in his bloodline, he was able to use it. But he used it for wrong,
not what it was meant for, and so the gods cursed him and any who accompanied him.”
Rissine stared at her, utterly entranced by the story. It seemed everyone else was too. She met her sister’s eyes across the distance. It was clear Elmerah already knew what was being said.
“This was many centuries ago,” Saida continued. “His crew had children, many generations, and eventually the old ones died off. Everyone but the wielder of the circlet grew old, but not him, never him. For the curse was a part of his blood. It kept him alive to watch the torture of his people.”
Hotrath’s hand fell away from her shoulder. She heard him step back. “You do not know of what you speak.”
Saida moved closer, matching Hotrath step for step as he tried to escape down the dock. “You thought if someone like me used the circlet, someone whose magic it was actually meant for, that it would right the wrongs of your past. You thought I could save you, but this is not the case.”
Rissine and Zirin both turned to watch as Saida cornered the High King. Such a small elf, and the massive Akkeri was trembling in her presence.
“You already know the only way to break the curse,” Saida continued. “You could free your people, but you refuse to accept it.”
Rissine watched the fear pooling in Hotrath’s eye. Saida was right, he did know. If the curse was bound to him, bound to his very blood—
“Your death would break the curse,” Saida finished. “Time and old age will never take you. You must be killed, and your people will be free.”
The Akkeri started muttering around them. Those who spoke the common tongue must be translating for the others. Some reached for their weapons.
Saida stepped back, gesturing to the small elf still waiting quietly. She raised her voice for all to hear. “He was one of you until he was bathed in Cindra’s light. Your curse can indeed be broken.”
Hotrath looked desperately toward Rissine. Saida had her back to her, trusting her. “We had a bargain. Make good on your part.”
Clinging tight to Zirin, Rissine gave him a bitter smile. “Tunisa tried to warn you. You can never trust a Shadowmarsh witch.”
Some of the nearest Akkeri moved forward, closing in around their king.
Zirin helped her step further back. None of the Akkeri tried to stop them. They both kept their eyes on Saida as the Akkeri swarmed around her, then past her, surrounding their High King. She watched for a moment, then abruptly turned away. They all did.
Rissine turned her sights toward her sister, waiting for her further from the docks. Elmerah was smiling at her. She hadn’t seen such a smile from Elmerah since they were little girls, before their mother died.
Her little sister was all she saw as chaos broke out on the docks. Along with Saida and the other elf, she and Zirin broke free of it.
Though she was wounded and bleeding, once she reached Elmerah, she embraced her. “I know you must be angry with me, but I did it to save you.”
Elmerah held her tightly. “Alluin told me what happened. He told me you ordered him to leave you behind so he could save me.”
Surprised by her words, Rissine pulled away enough to search her sister’s face.
Elmerah laughed at her expression. “I don’t forgive you, far from it, but I am glad you are alive. You are important to me.”
Rissine was so shocked, she didn’t know what to say. “Did killing a demon emperor mess with your mind? He’s dead, isn’t he? Else you wouldn’t be here?”
Elmerah nodded, still lightly embracing her sister. “Yes, he’s dead, and perhaps it did mess with my mind. All I know is that I’m lucky to be alive, and with my friends—and family.”
Rissine wanted to say more, but she was growing lightheaded with blood loss. She opened her mouth, but then her eyes rolled back into her head, and she promptly passed out.
Chapter Eighteen
Elmerah
They gathered within the main hall of the keep, seated around a long table. The wounded had been tended, and the prisoners were locked away in the dungeon. A different dungeon from the one she had been locked in alone, this one larger and outside of the keep, beneath the barracks. Makali warriors had been sent to see what became of Hotrath and his Akkeri, but their ships had vanished. If Tunisa and the Arthali who’d hunted them still lived . . . it was a problem for another time.
Elmerah stretched her tense neck, hardly hearing the ongoing conversation around her. As far as she was concerned, the Akkeri could return to the docks. They could have the whole blasted city. She wanted to leave this place and never look back.
She smoothed her hands across the table in front of her, her eyes darting to the far corner of the massive chamber. Part of the floor had caved in over the cavern where Egrin had met his end. She couldn’t seem to keep her eyes away from it, even as the others seated around the table discussed the coming days. She tugged her fresh cream-colored blouse where it snagged on her bandages, trying to focus on the words being said.
Messengers would be sent to Faerune. Saida and Malon would embark on a journey to the Helshone to fulfill their promise to their warriors. Word would also be sent to the Nokken of the Illuvian forest. Many of their people were innocent, though Killian’s sister was nowhere to be found. She would answer for her crimes eventually. She chose to aid Egrin, but most of the Nokken were forced into their actions. They would be pardoned by the Capital, but that did not mean they would be forgiven by Faerune. Isara could make no promises as far as the elves were concerned. The Nokken had killed a third of the High Council, and that would surely never be forgiven. Nor would the Dreilore be pardoned. Any Dreilore who came near the city would be killed on sight.
Elmerah’s gaze drifted once more to the ruined stonework above the cavern. She felt Alluin watching her. She knew she should be paying attention, but she had nothing left to give.
Finally, he nudged her shoulder, then nodded toward the other end of the table.
She followed his gaze toward Malon, who was staring toward the ruined cavern too. His expression gave her chills.
“Let’s take a break,” Celen said from across the table, and she realized he’d been watching Malon too.
The others around the table muttered their agreement, and began standing.
Alluin offered her his hand, helping her to her feet. She didn’t like showing such weakness, but she was utterly exhausted, and her magic was yet to return.
Celen moved around the table to stand next to them, his attention still on Saida and Malon. His fresh tunic and breeches were a touch too small, but they were the largest to be found within the keep. He lowered his voice, “Let us visit Rissine. Her wound should be stitched up by now.”
Elmerah nodded, her thoughts distant, her eyes once again drifting toward the cavern. Was the portal still open beneath the rubble? Was Egrin truly dead?
Alluin lightly gripped her arm and guided her from the room. Celen followed.
Together, they walked down a hall, then climbed the stone steps leading up to the next level of the keep. Rissine had commandeered one of the finest chambers, making Elmerah promise she’d come back to her once the meeting had dispersed.
Her legs heavily protested the final few steps, but she made it up the stairs then headed toward the chamber. It was odd—willingly visiting her sister. Rissine . . . wasn’t a good person. She was unyieldingly loyal, yes, at least toward Elmerah, but that did not erase the ugly things she had done. She had given Saida to the emperor. She had worked with pirates who were selling young women into slavery. She might one day be able to forgive her sister for what happened to their mother, but could she turn a blind eye to everything else?
She wasn’t sure.
They reached the door, and Celen knocked.
Heavy footsteps sounded within, then the door swung inward, revealing Zirin. Rissine lay propped up on the bed, five plump burgundy pillows positioned around her. Lanterns cast soft light on either side of the bed despite the murky sunlight yet filtering in through the large window.
Thera sat near Rissine’s feet, her back to Elmerah. She still wore her loose black dress, and looked utterly frail next to Rissine.
“Are we all friends again?” Elmerah asked caustically.
Rissine scowled. Light bruises lined one side of her face, courtesy of Tunisa. “Thera was just in the middle of begging my forgiveness. You interrupted a rather touching moment.”
She rolled her eyes, then walked toward the bed.
She heard the door shut behind Alluin and Celen as they stepped into the room behind her, then stood against the wall near Zirin.
Elmerah looked her sister over. She had found a fresh white shirt somewhere, which now covered her injury. It had to be bad for her to be lying in bed while everyone stood around her. Not that Elmerah intended to show concern one way or another.
“We need to talk about Malon and the circlet,” she said lowly.
A dark look crossed Rissine’s face. “Yes, I’ve been told of the power he is able to wield. I know you’ve never trusted him.”
She let the comment go, dismissing the sarcastic retorts passing through her mind. She sat on the other side of the bed, mirroring Thera. “There is more. He has demon blood, like Isara. He might not be their king, but with the circlet he could potentially be as powerful as Egrin.”
“And he might not remain on our side forever,” Rissine finished for her.
Alluin and Celen moved toward the bed.
“He was staring at the ruined cavern with an unsettling amount of longing,” Celen explained.
Rissine’s eyebrows shot up toward her hairline. “Elmerah told me about the portal. Do you think he can sense it?”
Elmerah shrugged. “He can sense demon portals. I would imagine he could feel . . . whatever that was.”
They all looked to Thera, who hunched her shoulders further. “I don’t know much about it, but his demon queen was dead. Truly dead. He needed an extreme amount of magic to bring her back. I would be surprised if anyone else could summon the magic needed to use the portal again.”
Empire of Demons (The Moonstone Chronicles Book 4) Page 17