Chapter 10
“Hope is a fickle thing.” ~ Oakley
Oakley stopped walking and dropped his pack.
“I just want it noted,” he said flatly, “that we’ve been tromping through a sentient murder-forest for hours and only now has anyone suggested maybe checking whether my sister and Cassie are actually missing.
” He sighed and ran a hand across his face.
“It’s like we’ve gone brain dead as we’ve fought our way forward. ”
Syndra halted a few steps ahead of him. Tamsin stopped beside her, a bored look on his handsome face, though she knew he was anything but bored. He was alert, always alert.
“We were confirming patterns,” Syndra said calmly. “No need to panic Trik yet if he’s unaware that she might not even be there.”
Oakley stared at her. “You’re making the assumption that he isn’t already losing his mind with worry because the girls are more than likely out here. Why would the forest give you guys that vision of them if they aren’t out here? So, we’d be doing the king a favor by checking in on him.”
“He has a point,” Tamsin offered.
“Thanks, your endorsement is inspiring,” Oakley huffed.
“Don’t be petulant," Tamsin said patiently. “It’s unbecoming of a warrior.”
Syndra watched as Oakley pursed his lips, obviously irritated by her mate’s words, but he held his tongue.
The clearing they’d pushed into was barely a clearing at all, more a reluctant pause in the trees, the light thin and filtered, the ground uneven beneath their boots. Nothing here felt welcoming, but at least it had stopped actively trying to turn them around. For now.
Syndra turned back to studying Oakley’s face. Beneath the sarcasm, his fear sat raw and unguarded.
“I hear what you’re saying,” she said. “But, we waited because once we asked, there would be no more hoping that it was just a vision of what the Chamber wants and not what is actually happening.”
Oakley exhaled sharply. “Hope is a fickle thing, but I’d rather know.”
Syndra nodded. “Okay.” She lifted a hand, “Before you say anything else, I’m putting him on speaker.”
Tamsin arched his brow. “Wise. Keeps us all in the loop.”
Syndra reached into her pocket and pulled out her cell phone.
Oakley stared. “I realize that you guys use human technology, but why when you can just mind tap him, and is that thing even still charged?”
“You wouldn’t be able to hear the conversation. This way, you can be a part of it. And elven magic is excellent at many things,” she mused. “Battery life is one of them.” She tapped the screen, lifted the phone, and didn’t bother softening her tone. It rang one time before it was answered.
“Took you long enough to get in touch,” Trik snapped. “Tell me you have news. I don’t care what kind it is. I just want to know something.”
Syndra felt his voice like a whip. That wasn’t a good sign. He sounded much worse than when they’d left. She just jumped right to the news they needed. “We need to know where the girls are.”
There was a tense silence that she felt wrapping around her throat.
As if Triktapic’s power reached through the device because his rage was so potent.
Finally, it eased a bit and she could breathe.
“Not here.” It was as if the words were ripped from him.
Though he was furious, he sounded completely broken at the same time.
Syndra’s spine went cold. “They’re not with you?” she said, as if she needed confirmation despite the fact that he’d literally just said it.
Oakley’s breath hitched. “When was the last time you saw them?” His voice was demanding, no doubt forgetting that he was speaking to a very powerful, very unhinged elf king.
Despite the disrespect, Trik didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t need to. “Neither of them have been in the palace since yesterday morning. And Cush and I are . . . indisposed.” He bit the last word out through gritted teeth.
Oakley took a step forward as if getting closer to the phone would somehow get him the information more quickly. “Indisposed how?”
There was another pause. Syndra wondered if Trik was having trouble forming words because then it meant he had to acknowledge that his Chosen was indeed missing. The response was short and laced with danger. “The Book.” The word settled like a blade between them.
Syndra closed her eyes. “Of course.” That damn Book had become more than a nuisance. Somehow the Chamber was funneling power into it and it had grown strong enough to impede even the king of the elves. Things were going from bad to shit storm in the blink of an eye.
Oakley’s voice cracked. “Where’s my sister?”
Syndra looked past him, not at the trees, not at the path, but at the pressure converging in from every direction.
Once again, it was as if there was some unseen force completely focused on them.
Planning, scheming, preparing to do whatever it needed to in order to accomplish its goal, whatever the heck that was.
“I don’t know exactly where they are,” she said, speaking to Trik, because Oakley’s question wasn’t really for anyone but himself.
“And I don’t know why they left–whether it was of their own free will, as if they felt like going on a walk through a forest none of us expected to act in any way other than it normally does, or,” she paused, considering her words carefully.
The ground thrummed beneath their feet as if warning her to be careful.
“Or whether they were called, coerced, or even forced,” she finished softly.
Trik’s breath trembled through the phone for several heartbeats before he spoke again. “It’s the Chamber of Light and Dark.” He didn’t bother explaining what he was talking about. But, then they didn’t need him to, though he didn’t know that. “It wants them.”
Tamsin sighed. “We’ve had the unpleasant memory of the Chamber recently unearthed to us as well. I’m glad we’re not having to catch you up.”
“We’ve been given visions,” Syndra continued. “But we weren’t sure if the events they revealed were actually happening. Elora and Cassie walking through the forest. But it feels as if they’re being led.”
“We’ve seen the same thing,” this time it was Cush’s voice. His words practically vibrated with rage.
“Do you get the impression they’re in danger?” Syndra asked them.
“We can’t get the impression of anything,” Trik answered. “The bond between us is completely blocked. There’s nothing.”
Tamsin’s eyes met Syndra’s. They understood the pain that would cause. And she could see in his eyes that he hurt for the king because they wouldn’t wish that kind of pain on anyone.
“I need you to find them,” Trik practically begged.
The former dark elf assassin, and now restored king was begging for their help because Cassie, his Chosen, was his world.
Their souls were forever entwined and incomplete without one another.
He would do more than beg to get her back.
He would tear the elfin realm apart if that’s what it took.
He would become the monster he’d once been, killing with unparalleled skill, heartlessly and without remorse if it meant having her back in his arms.
“We will, Triktapic,” Tamsin promised, his gaze fierce with determination.
“I can’t lose her,” Trik said softly. “I can’t lose them. I don’t know what I would become.”
Syndra felt the sting of tears as emotion clogged her throat.
Trik had been through so much. He’d fought his way back from the edge of destruction, he’d humbled himself before the Forest Lords, and he’d been given the blessing of a Chosen.
His words registered. “Them?” He no doubt cared for Elora, but that’s not who he was speaking of.
“Cassie is pregnant with our child,” his voice was strained and tight, “I didn’t know. She hadn’t told me.”
Syndra felt the breath knocked out of her at the revelation.
Her eyes were focused so hard on the phone, as if she’d be able to see his face.
“Trik.” She didn’t know what to say. Congratulations?
That would be the normal response, in normal circumstances.
But it didn’t seem like the time to say that, not when he might actually lose them before he even had the chance to hear the words from Cassie.
“I can’t lose them,” Trik said again, and then the line went dead.
* * *
Trik didn’t move after the call ended.
The silence that followed wasn’t empty, it was suffocating. It pressed in until it rang in his ears, until even his heartbeat sounded wrong.
Across the room, Cush stood still as stone, jaw locked, eyes fixed on Trik like he expected him to either shatter or ignite, and he honestly didn’t know which would be worse.
Cassie is pregnant.
No matter how many times the thought spun through his mind or passed his lips, the ache of it never dulled. It took root deep, beneath bone and blood, deeper even than magic or crown. Each heartbeat dragged it back to the surface, a pulse of disbelief and wonder knotted with fear.
On the table between them, the Book of the Elves sat pristine and silent. Pretending innocence.
Trik turned toward it, slow and deliberate.
“No,” Cush said instantly, catching the shift in his stance. “Don’t even think about it.”
Trik laid his palm on the cold stone beside the Book. The chill seeped into his skin as the castle’s air thinned and hummed, its ancient wards buzzing like restless creatures scenting a storm.
“They’re out there,” Trik said, his calm so sharp it made Cush’s skin crawl. “The forest isn’t doing this, it’s being influenced. Syndra confirmed it.”
“That doesn’t mean you rush in,” Cush countered. “We wait. We do this right.”
Trik’s fingers curled into the stone. “I’ve waited,” he said, voice low and edged. “I waited while the Book grew teeth. While it allowed dark magic to invade it. While it cut me off from my mate . . .” his throat tightened, “. . . and my child.”
The air shifted again, not with magic, but with presence. The Book trembled. A narrow seam of light cracked along its spine, chased by shadow.
“Trik—” Cush hissed.