Chapter 17
Zelfek and I were evenly matched in every way, including deceit. We were raised together, learned all the same dirty tricks, and knew how to anticipate them. When Zelfek tried to trip me up, I was already lifting my foot. When I tried to gouge him in the eyes, he bobbed out of my reach a fraction ahead of me. The only thing he had that I didn’t was ambition.
We locked blades and battled for leverage at the hilts, and I seized the opportunity to proposition him. “The whole command could be yours if Lhoris wins this,” I hissed.
Zelfek’s eyes went wide with shock and then he grinned. “And here I thought I’d have to convince you, cousin,” he replied before we had to break away.
I sidestepped a lunge, trapping Zelfek’s sword arm and we grappled like the old, tired bastards we were. Though his frame felt wrong, too thin. I could overpower him if I tried. “We distract Dulanzo, Lhoris takes his head, and you get the power. Just follow through on terms.” Technically, that would be breaking some rules, but things happen in fights. And the records of these challenges were always written by the winner. I’d seen Dulanzo do it enough over the years. So had Zelfek.
He nodded with a grin and his eyes flicked to the other duel. He opened his mouth to speak but winced and turned away from a sudden bright light behind me. Then came Ozanna’s dark, guttural scream. Her sudden grief and anger ripped through me like lightning. If it weren’t for my grasp on Zelfek, I’d have fucking fallen to my knees. She was finally close enough for the bond to connect.
… at the most inconvenient fucking time.
I released Zelfek and looked at the other duel. Dulanzo was bloodied but held his dripping sword up in victory as Lhoris collapsed. “No,” I gasped, and time seemed to stand still.
It wasn’t fair. After all I’d sacrificed. After all he’d accomplished because of it. It wasn’t fair that he was on the ground bleeding while I stood.
Zelfek supported me for a few heartbeats before I pushed him away, my teeth bared. I glared at Zelfek, daring him to intervene as I moved on Dulanzo.
Zelfek turned to greet the cheating bastard with congratulations, and I moved as if going to Lhoris’ side. Instead, I juked behind Dulanzo’s back and separated his head from his shoulders in one swing. It fell to the ground with a heavy, hollow thump and rolled onto its cheek while the body spasmed and toppled beside it. His blood rushed out and pooled near Lhoris.’
The elves around us all stared in shocked silence for a moment before the startled grunts and cries of calculated assassination started. As intriguing as it was, I didn’t give a shit right then. I was too busy trying to get to Lhoris.
I rolled him over and took in his pale, gasping face and just how much of his blood was pooled in the grass.
I didn’t say anything, just ground my teeth and slapped my hand over the place Emma’s little bead of power rested. “Damn it Emma, how do I make it work?” I growled to myself. Then Ozanna was on Lhoris’ other side, weeping, pressing shredded linens on the wound. She crumpled over him, and I fought to keep her pain from freeing mine from where I had it contained. I had to focus.
Please, please, please…
Opening my hands, I rested one over where the power should be, the other under his back, and let the current of my magic flow from one hand to the other, through Lhoris’ stilling chest. I’d never had much in the way of magical talent, but in my desperation, it didn’t matter. Somehow, I sensed a sizable pulse of energy and instinctively swept it up in my current. The power there was begging me to free it. He’s not completely gone, let me go, let me work, let me go, it seemed to say.
In my mind it was a pearly, soft-shelled egg of some sort. I envisioned tearing the thing open with my fingertips, all the while focused on my intent to bring my beloved brother back from the brink. A shimmering dragonfly emerged from the delicate shell, its color shifting from greens and blues to reds and oranges. It launched itself in my face, knocking me back upon impact.
I came back to myself after the vision, sprawled on my back.
“What the fuck, Emma!” I spat then sat up to watch Lhoris. His chest slowly rose and fell. His sword hand twitched and tightened on the handle, then relaxed and rose to brush over Ozanna’s loose hair. I released the breath I hadn’t realized I was holding and watched for a moment more, in awe of what I’d somehow accomplished. I couldn’t see his face with Oz in the way. She rested her forehead on his and kept crying. I guess she hadn’t noticed he wasn’t dying anymore.
“Oz, are you trying to drown me?” Lhoris’ voice hardly carried over the chaos breaking out around us.
Oz sat up so abruptly that the boy at her side squeaked in surprise. I thought he might piss himself.
I relaxed, though, knowing she was more or less alright and where I could look out for her. Then I turned my attention to the other half of my grief, my son, who stood at her side with his small hand on her shoulder.
His eyes were huge and staring around the clearing, trying to take in everything at once. Dulanzo had only allowed me to see my boys once when Lhoris first made the deal to earn our freedom. It seemed to me that this one, the baby, had hardly grown.
“Hey kid,” I said in elvish, “you remember me?”
“I don’t think I seen you before,” the child replied and eyed me suspiciously.
“Yeah, I’m your father,” I said and reached across Lhoris, my hands shaking from raw nerves and held them where the boy could step into my grasp. He examined my hands, and hesitantly lifted one of his own to wrap soft, little fingers around my thumb.
The bond between us lit up on contact, renewing itself. His eyes widened and his lip trembled when he stepped into my grasp. I clutched him against my chest and curled around him protectively. For a moment, the rest of the world went away, and I fed everything I had, everything that was me, into that weakened bond. My aching heart squeezed, and my chest burned in that small, sacred space I could always feel him. The bond opened and there he was—a trembling presence at the other end, reaching back toward me as if he’d been searching for me in the darkness.
My son.
He didn’t resist, finally recognizing me, and wrapped his skinny arms around my neck. He was so light. I choked, realizing how close to losing him I’d been. “I came because they aren’t taking care of you,” I rasped, my throat still tight.
“Lobikno,” the child whispered my name in reverence. Then he tried to argue, as if worried Ozanna would be left behind. “Osh-anna took care of me. Them guys are assholes.” He released me and pulled away to point an accusing finger at a clump of frantic elves.
“Yeah, I know Ozanna isn’t like them. She’s coming with us too.” I got to my feet and helped Ozanna get Lhoris up.
“What’s going on?” she asked, unable to understand the language. I translated the best I could, but there was a lot going on. Too much to explain quickly, at least. She was probably confused about Lhoris not being dead too, but that could wait.
Zelfek stood to the side with a shit-eating grin on his face. Several of Dulanzo’s personally loyal soldiers were dead or dying at the hands of those personally loyal to Zelfek. Though there were a lot of confused murmurs and shouts rising from the neutral majority of the warband. They were worried that Zelfek’s coup would bring the general back to stay without Dulanzo there with … well whatever he’d been using as leverage to keep the cunts out of the compound.
The calls tapered off when Lhoris got to his feet though. Seeing someone come back from a fatal wound would do that, I guess.
Oz and I let go once he was stable. Then Lhoris stood before the warband on his own, without a drop of blood on his leathers. He scanned the crowd and shook his head as if disappointed.
“Look upon me!” he roared. “I’ve been blessed by the goddess as the rightful winner of this duel. Dulanzo broke Irnon’s law. You all saw. He was slow and weak,” Lhoris said with a sneer. “He was meant to lose. The goddess righted his wrong. Now it’s Zelfek’s time to lead. My family and I take our leave now, as was agreed in the terms of the duel.”
Maybe Lhoris would have been a good politician in another lifetime. Or the remnants of Emma’s gift gave him something more in the moment. But I was certain that Lhoris’ claim, though he didn’t specify which goddess had blessed him, and the evidence of his resurrection had sealed Zelfek’s position.
Stupid fucking zealots.
“Go on,” Zelfek bellowed. “It’s over, return to your duties.”