Elmerah
Elmerah stood with hands on hips, freezing her wits off in the dark night while Alluin circled the final barn. He’d circled every cursed structure on the entire farm. Twice.
“You know,” she called out, “if there were any witch hunters out here, I imagine they would have attacked by now.”
Alluin finished his inspection and returned to her. “We cannot be too cautious, especially now that we’ve found Isara.”
“If we were being cautious, we wouldn’t have left Malon in there with her and Saida.”
“You think he’s up to something?”
She shrugged. She didn’t like haughty elves at the best of times, and Malon was the haughtiest of them all. Perhaps it was her prejudices speaking, but . . . “Why is he here? Why is a Guard Captain shirking his duty to watch over a single priestess?”
Alluin turned his gaze toward the main house, its windows dully glowing from the warm light within. “You may have a point, but I do not see what his aim could be. Thus far, he has done exactly what he said he came here to do.”
Elmerah followed his gaze. “Perhaps he’s in love with her. Love can turn even Guard Captains into idiots.”
Alluin laughed. “That it can. Let’s go back inside and see if Isara has awoken.”
They walked side by side back toward the front door. Elmerah was just about to push it open when Alluin grabbed her arm.
She turned to him, sensing his tension.
He held a finger to his lips, then gestured for them to retreat the way they’d come. He stopped near a decrepit tack room. “I heard voices inside,” he whispered.
“Yes,” she whispered back, her gaze on the seemingly peaceful house, “I’m not sure why you find that out of the ordinary.”
He shook his head, following her gaze. “Not voices I recognize. Let’s go around back, see if we can peer through Isara’s bedroom window.”
He hurried back toward the house, his footfalls making only the slightest rasp through the dry grass. She followed after him, stepping lightly.
She noticed the voices he’d mentioned as they crept toward the glowing window, high up in the wall near the low thatched roof. She, however, recognized one of the voices. She snatched Alluin’s wrist before he could rise up on tip toe to look in the window, then dragged him backward.
Once out of hearing range of the house, she forced him to crouch. “Egrin is in there,” she hissed.
Alluin’s eyes widened, glinting in the dim moonlight. “Are you sure?”
Goosebumps erupted down her arms beneath her coat as she recalled her confrontation with the emperor in the slums of Galterra. “I’m sure.” She almost asked what they should do, but bit her tongue. Alluin would know no better than she. The last time they’d faced the emperor, they’d barely escaped with their lives, and it was only because they had antlioch to ride away on. They’d left their horses back in Fallshire.
“We have to get Saida and Isara out of there,” Alluin said finally.
She didn’t bother mentioning that they should probably save Malon too. “I’ll distract Egrin, you get them out.”
“Absolutely not.”
She eyed him steadily through the fog of her breath, her legs tiring from crouching too long. “He won’t kill me, at least not right away. If I’m unable to escape, you must meet with Rissine and tell her what happened. I hate to admit it, but she’d be my best hope of rescue.”
“No,” he said again.
She shook her head. She wasn’t a lover of altruism, but— “There is more at stake here than our lives. You must get Saida and Isara back to Faerune. I’ll distract him while you escape, and if I can come after you, I will. If not,” she shook her head, “just find Rissine.”
He clung to her arms. “Elmerah—”
She nodded. He didn’t need to say the words. “I know.”
They stood. “I’ll go in through the front,” she explained. “I’ll try to get Saida and Isara out of the room. Once they’re out, convince them to run. Saida won’t want to leave me behind.” She couldn’t quite manage a smirk. “We both know how sentimental she can be.”
She pulled away from him, then trotted toward the front door, her hand on the cutlass at her belt. She knew as soon as Egrin was able to focus his attention on her, her magic would be useless, so she’d need to act quickly.
She reached the front door with Alluin just behind her, took a deep breath, then slowly opened it and peeked inside. The fire still crackled in the hearth, and the old woman still slept in her chair. The voices deeper within had gone silent. Did they know she was here? Would they attack her as soon as she stepped inside?
She supposed the answers didn’t matter. She crept inside, wincing as her weight made a floorboard creak. She barely breathed for several heartbeats, but nothing moved. She drew her cutlass, encased it in flame, and charged Isara’s door, throwing it open and launching herself inside.
A female Dreilore near the door threw herself aside, out of the path of Elmerah’s flaming cutlass. Isara, Saida, and Malon were all herded against the far wall beneath the window with two male Dreilore aiming green-glowing blades at them. To their left stood Egrin, dressed in all black, a smug smile on his thin lips.
Elmerah took it all in a moment before she whipped fire Egrin’s way. “Get out!” she shouted, hoping Saida realized her words were meant for her. Egrin waved an arm and her flames evaporated without even a hiss of smoke. She charged him, ignoring the Dreilore as Saida and Malon took the opportunity to rush them.
Her cutlass was only a hair away from Egrin’s neck when her entire body froze, and the air was sucked from her lungs.
Egrin’s grin widened. If he was fazed by how close he’d just come to death, he didn’t show it. Or maybe he just let her get that close to mock her. Either way, she couldn’t move or breathe.
“Stop it!” Isara screeched.
Elmerah was released so suddenly she toppled to her knees. Her cutlass clattered across the floorboards. She looked up to see Egrin turn a stunned expression toward Isara.
Malon had been backed once more into a corner, his body shielding Saida as the three Dreilore edged in. The two elves hadn’t even stood a chance against the ancient warriors with their enchanted blades. Enchanted to do what, was anyone’s guess.
Egrin’s body gave a slight shake, like a bird settling its feathers. He looked at Isara. “It seems I’ve underestimated you, cousin. Perhaps you are more talented than Daemon after all.”
Elmerah would have liked to hear more, but instead drove her fist up into Egrin’s groin.
He doubled over with an oof, just as an arrow whizzed through the open doorway and thunked into the back of one of the male Dreilore. It seemed Alluin had found his bow.
She dove across the room for her cutlass as Egrin staggered toward her, his arms outstretched. Suddenly the air was torn from her lungs again, only to be restored a moment later with a satisfied grunt from Isara.
“Grab the witch!” Egrin ordered. “Ignore the others.”
The two remaining Dreilore lunged for her. She rolled onto her back, kicking out. Her boot knocked the female Dreilore in the cheek, but the male deftly evaded her kick then grabbed her leg. “Saida!” she shouted. “Go!”
Elmerah watched upside down as Malon threw Saida over his shoulder and ran toward the door, his movements slowed by her struggles. Isara remained with her back pressed against the wall, wide-eyed.
Elmerah kicked her free leg at the male Dreilore, but his grip did not relent. Her only advantage was that Egrin wanted her alive, while she wanted both him and the Dreilore dead. Her grin was the only warning the male Dreilore had before she filled her body with magic to the point of bursting. A weapon helped to direct her flames and lightning, but she could still wield them without her cutlass.
Her magic erupted in a wave, scalding the male Dreilore’s skin. It would have set his clothes aflame too if they weren’t leather, which unfortunately, they were. The female had scramb
led to her feet just in time to catch the edge of the flame. She screamed, then the air was knocked from Elmerah’s lungs again.
She heard Egrin’s voice beyond the two cursing, hissing Dreilore. “Undo my magic again, Isara, and I will have her killed. I may want you both alive, but my patience is not endless.”
Lovely, she thought. Perhaps she’d overestimated her value. Her lungs began to feel like hot pokers were scalding her from the inside. It wouldn’t be long before she lost consciousness, and she couldn’t even shout at stupid Isara to do something. At least Alluin, Saida, and Malon had escaped, unless they were lurking somewhere beyond her slowly graying vision.
The last thing she saw was Egrin dragging Isara by the collar of her maroon dress as he came to stand over her. “You should have run while you had the chance.”
If she could have spoken, she would have agreed with him.
Saida
“We can’t just leave her!” Saida shrieked as Malon dragged her along by the wrist.
Not only had they left behind Elmerah, but they’d lost Isara. Egrin would kill her before he’d let her fall into their hands again. Her boots scraped against rocky earth as Malon dragged her onward, following after Alluin, who ran with his bow gripped in one hand. They were headed not back west toward Fallshire, but further east toward the barren wilderness.
“Stop!” she begged, but Malon’s iron grip was unrelenting. If she could manage to gather her wits, she might be able to escape him, but her body just kept urging her to pull against his grip. “Alluin!” she called out to the form jogging through the darkness ahead of them. “We cannot leave her!”
“Quiet, priestess,” Malon urged. “You know if we go back, we will not survive the encounter, and we will not be able to help your friend if we’re dead. At least this way, someone will know where she is. We will get her back.”
His words finally sank in. He was right. It would do Elmerah more harm than good if they went back now.
She stopped fighting against his grip and started running at his side. Soon they caught up with Alluin. “If he kills her,” she panted, “I will never forgive either of you.”
Alluin didn’t reply, and all she got from Malon was an exasperated glance.
They ran on through the darkness until Saida thought her legs might soon turn to jelly. She was coated in sweat despite the chill night. They’d left most of their supplies behind, save Alluin’s bow, and the few other weapons both he and Malon kept strapped to their persons. She had her small satchel looped around her waist like a belt-pouch, but all it contained was the moonstone circlet. Malon had her larger satchel containing a fire-striker, a bit of food, and the few vials of medicine from her father.
Saida staggered against a spindly tree, bracing herself as she panted, then lifted a trembling hand to wipe the sweat from her brow. The tree was sticky with moisture and sap, but she couldn’t bring herself to push away. Bile threatened at the back of her throat.
“Are you well, priestess?” Malon asked. He stood straight, his reflective gaze on their surroundings.
“No,” she rasped. “I’m really not.”
Alluin stood a few paces away, watching them.
She wasn’t quite sure her feet would carry her, but she took the risk and marched toward him. “Why did you let her charge back in like that? You both should have stayed away.”
Alluin avoided her accusing gaze. “You truly think I had any choice in the matter? She knew Egrin wanted her alive, and she chose to use that leverage to help you escape.”
“He wants me alive too,” she snapped.
Finally he looked her in the eye. A fine sheen of sweat coated his brow, but she had a feeling the tension wrinkling his skin had nothing to do with physical weariness. “Does he? Perhaps he once did, but he missed his opportunity to deliver you to the Akkeri. You are useless to him now.”
The word useless stung. She gritted her jaw. “Fine. What do we do now?”
He gestured to their dark surroundings. “We walk.”
She clenched her fists. Somewhere far behind them, Elmerah was probably tied up being tossed into a carriage. Or maybe Egrin would use his dark magics to transport her back to the Capital in an instant. Either way, Saida knew she stood no chance of saving her. The only person who could stand up to Egrin’s magic was Isara, and she was lost to them now too. Would he kill his own cousin to protect his legacy?
She shook her head and followed after Malon and Alluin as they led the way further away from Ravenstooth Farm. Isara was as good as dead.
Elmerah
A harsh rattling awoke her. Elmerah’s eyes slid open just a crack. She was in a carriage, her head resting in someone’s lap. Across from her were Egrin and the two surviving Dreilore. With a hiss of breath she tried to sit up, but hard metal bound her wrists behind her back. Son of a Dreilore wench, they were magic-nullifying shackles. Her cutlass was missing too.
She flexed her abdomen and rocked to lift herself upright. Isara winced apologetically at her side. Her spectacles were askew on her face, fully revealing one wide eye. “I would have helped you up, but my hands are bound.” Sure enough, her wrists were pinned behind her, just like Elmerah’s.
She turned toward Egrin and the Dreilore. “Where are we going?”
Egrin smiled, the harsh shadows of the carriage making him look menacing, though really, he didn’t need the help. “Does it matter?”
The two Dreilore watched her with blank expressions, their fiery eyes seeming dull in the dark carriage. She would have spit on them if her mouth weren’t bone dry.
“What do you have to lose in telling me?”
Egrin shrugged. “Nothing. You will not escape me this time, but if I don’t tell you, I get to watch you squirm.”
“I don’t squirm,” she snapped, then turned toward Isara. “Do the shackles nullify your magic too?”
Isara shifted in her seat, her gaze on her lap. “No, mine are just normal shackles. My . . . skills are useless when Egrin isn’t doing anything. The shackles don’t work on me anyway.”
Elmerah bit her lip. Lovely. If the shackles didn’t work on Isara, such things would likely not work on Egrin . . . not that she’d be given an opportunity to test her theories.
Egrin cleared his throat, drawing her eye. The carriage gave a jump over a particularly rocky area, then continued ambling along. “Did you really hope to murder me and place my dear cousin on the throne?” Egrin asked.
Elmerah’s eyes flew wide as she turned toward Isara.
“He was going to harm you!” she blurted. “I had to tell him!”
“He wasn’t going to harm me,” she sighed.
Egrin laughed. “Losing a hand or a foot won’t hurt your magic, Elmerah. Magic is your only value.”
She fought to hide her discomfort, but found herself squirming in her seat. Curse it all. “What do you want, Egrin? Where are we going?”
“We’re going to Faerune to watch it burn, then we will return to the Capital where I will have all the time with you I desire. I will lay your soul bare, then I will kill you.”
She stared at him. Cursing him now would only provide amusement.
“Or,” he began, “there is another option.”
She scowled. “Go on.”
“I know you desire asylum for your people. This is something I can easily offer you.”
She laughed, rocking back in her seat. The uncushioned wood bit into her shoulders. “Do you think me a total fool? You would never lift the Arthali exile.”
He tilted his head. “Why not? The people of Galterra have come to accept the Dreilore as allies,” he gestured to the Dreilore on either side of him. “They will accept the Arthali just as easily. You are far less exotic, at least to the untrained eye.”
She clenched her jaw. “And what, you’d make us your loyal lapdogs, just like the Dreilore?”
The female Dreilore lunged forward, rage contorting her narrow features, then halted mid-motion. Her red-orange eyes seemed to bug
out of her head, then she dropped to the rattling carriage floor. She recovered quickly, then resumed her seat, hanging her head to drape her long white hair over her features.
“As I was saying,” Egrin continued, raising his voice as they hit another rocky patch, “I will gladly lift the exile. All you must do is aid in destroying Faerune, and grant me the secrets of your magic willingly.”
“No.”
“You would rather die?”
She curled her lip. “You’ll kill me regardless. I’m not an idiot. At least this way I can be a complete thorn in your paw until you do.”
Egrin settled back against his seat and steepled his fingers before his face. “You certainly are odd for an Arthali.”
She shifted her shackled hands, trying to find a more comfortable position. She knew she wasn’t getting out of this one, not unless Alluin could find Rissine in time. She hated to admit it, but Egrin’s offer tempted her more than she’d let on. She even almost believed he’d follow through on it. He’d allied himself with the Dreilore after all.
She caught Isara’s eye as the carriage ambled onward. There was a look of resolve there behind the lifted side of her smudged, foggy lenses. Maybe, just maybe she might be useful. If they could disable the Dreilore, and if Isara could hold off Egrin’s magic long enough for her to run.
“Do you really think my cousin will help you kill me, let alone kill her own brother?” Egrin’s tone was mocking.
Elmerah didn’t reply. Perhaps it was wishful thinking, but at the moment, it was all she had.
Saida
The first rays of sunlight seemed to sap the strength from Saida’s limbs. They’d bypassed Fallshire, wanting to avoid any more of the emperor’s men, which meant leaving their horses behind, but she’d not let Elmerah’s sacrifice be in vain. They had to find Rissine.
Curse of the Akkeri Page 12