Chapter 47
Forty-Seven
“There you are, dear boy.” Erindil stepped over Marina as if she were a misplaced throw pillow. “I’ve been looking for you, you know.” His gaze alighted on Thrain, and he blew out a breath. “And you too. I was certain I’d lost you both.”
“Where have you been?” Vaskel fought to keep the sharpness from his voice, but he was too distracted by the presence of a second, regal elf to be too upset. “And who is that?
“As to where I was,” Erindil allowed himself a satisfied smile.
“I was tracking down our missing archer. You see, I saw Marina walking without her and deduced that Cali must be hidden away somewhere, perhaps subdued. I was conducting a search of the castle while all this was going on.” He fluttered his fingers in the general direction of the dungeon and the prone hellkin.
“As to who this is…” He pivoted to the other elf who looked like a slightly younger, and considerably less fussy, version of him. “This is my nephew.”
Everyone in the dank dungeon stared at the elf, and the only sound accompanying the shock was the plinking of water on stone.
“You mean,” Vaskel’s words tripped from his lips, “this is Lira’s…?”
“Older brother,” Erindil said, then tapped a finger on his chin. “Yes, older. Sometimes the years get a bit muddled.”
The elf with long platinum blonde hair and green eyes that were a perfect match for Lira’s slid an amused glance to Erindil. “I am two hundred years older than Lira.” Then he shifted his gaze back to Thrain and Vaskel and dipped his head as if he’d been formally introduced. “I am Tarrel.”
Instead of the fur-lined robes like his uncle, Tarrel wore forest-green pants that hugged his legs and a matching tunic that almost reached his knees. Brown leather encased his forearms, and a dark cloak draped over his shoulders. He looked more like a ranger than an immortal from Lananore.
Then Thrain barked out a laugh. “It’s you I’ve been seeing and thinking it was Erindil.”
Suddenly Vaskel’s own sighting of Erindil in odd clothing made sense.
Tarrel’s lips quirked almost imperceptibly. “I have been watching Wayside and my sister, sometimes not as unseen as I might have liked.”
Erindil narrowed his eyes at his brother. “You’ve caused lots of confusion, is what you’ve done. I’ve had villagers thinking I’m vaporizing and reappearing.”
Tarrel’s gaze swept over Erindil. “They’ve been mistaking me for you?”
“Yes.” Erindil sniffed. “Just because I don’t dress like I’m living off the land doesn’t mean we don’t share similarities.”
“You do look alike.” Thrain chuckled. “I’m just glad there are two of you, and it’s not the ale that was getting to me.”
Vaskel scowled at Tarrel, his protectiveness of Lira flaring. “Why haven’t you made yourself known to Lira?”
The elf blinked slowly. “I was waiting for the right moment.”
“The right moment? How long have you known about her?”
“Since she was young, I suppose.” The elf’s placid brow wrinkled. “But decades are a blink of an eye to an elf.”
Thrain huffed out a breath and muttered some unflattering words about elves under his breath so only Vaskel could hear him.
“Well, your sister is all grown up,” Vaskel said. “While you were blinking your eyes, she grew up without parents or siblings, lost the gran who raised her and set out on her own to make something of herself, which she did. Now she’s built a life and a home and is about to get married.”
“That’s right,” Thrain added. “So don’t think you can waltz in like no time has passed.”
Erindil shifted from one foot to the other, flitting glances at his nephew. “I told Tarrel that humans might not understand the way we move through time.” The elf lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “He’s not as grounded in the ways of the greater world as I am.”
Vaskel didn’t imagine that there could be a creature less grounded than Erindil with his ornate robes and battle ostrich.
“I have no intention of causing trouble,” Tarrel said, his voice smooth and unflustered. “I merely heard talk of a hellkin crew in Wayside and wanted to keep an eye on things.”
“You heard about Marina’s crew?” Vaskel asked.
Tarrel nodded. “I overheard her talking to an old man in a tavern. It was clear that she didn’t have good intentions, so I followed her and her fellow hellkins.”
“Wait.” Vaskel held up a hand. “You’ve been here this whole time?”
“He has.” Erindil’s smile slipped, and he looked down his long nose at Tarrel. “He didn’t alert me to his presence, either, although there is plenty of room in my encampment. And don’t say you’re too good for my tents.” Erindil waved a hand at his nephew’s attire. “I see how you’re dressed.”
Unless Vaskel was mistaken, Tarrel actually rolled his eyes. Maybe elf families weren’t so different after all.
“Hold up,” Thrain said, wagging a finger in Erindil’s direction. “You said you were looking for Cali? Where is she?”
The elf’s face drooped. “I didn’t find her. Of course, I hadn’t searched every corner of the castle before I stumbled into my nephew. Then we heard the explosion down here and came running.”
Vaskel swore quietly. He couldn’t return without Cali.
“I can search room by—” Thrain started, but his words were cut off by a yowl from a corner of the dungeon that was dredged in shadows.
“Cinders and dragon dung. Where am I?”
Vaskel would know that voice anywhere. “Cali?”
The pantheri ambled into the light, her fur rumpled and her whiskers bent. She eyed the rust-flaked iron bars in front of her, then her black pupils grew even larger as she peered beyond the bars to the assemblage in the dungeon. “What in Grognick’s beard is going on?”
Malek roused himself from the ground, giving a shake of his head as he sat up cross-legged. “Ah yes. I suppose now is the time to tell you that Caliqua has been here all along.”
Vaskel shot a dark look at the mage. “You couldn’t have mentioned that sooner?”
Malek twitched a shoulder. “She was fine, and it didn’t suit me to reveal her whereabouts right away.”
Thrain swiveled his head, spied a hook on one wall with a ring of keys, yanked it down, and hurried to the cell door. “Good to see you again, Cal.” He jammed a key in the crusty lock, pulled open the door, and held it for her. “No hard feelings about Marina or about the duel we almost fought.”
“What?” Cali rubbed her head. “We almost fought a duel?”
Vaksel put an arm around her shoulders, ignoring Thrain. “You okay?”
The pantheri gave a slow, deliberate nod of her head, then her gaze landed on the unmoving form of Marina. “She’s trouble.” She shook a raised claw in her direction. “I almost fell for her too, but I overheard her talking about her plans for her new crew. I wanted no part of that.”
“I thought you missed adventure,” Vaskel said.
“I might miss our old adventures, but I realized that I can’t recapture that by joining a new crew, especially not one bent on trouble.” Cali curled her tail around the hellkin’s leg. “My forever crew is right here in Wayside.”
Vaskel cleared the lump in his throat. “I’m glad to hear you say that. I would have knocked you out and dragged you back to the village, but I prefer this way.”
“Me, too.” The pantheri shook out her whiskers.“I’m ready to get out of here. Unless there’s a reason we’re all hanging out in the dungeon.”
“There is the matter of the hellkin and the mage.” Erindil said.
Cali bristled when she spotted Malek outside his cell, the hairs on arms puffing up. “What in the—?”
Vaskel put a hand on one fluffy arm. “He’s actually the one who knocked out Marina.”
“And siphoned her powers from her,” Malek added.
“What?” Cali turned to face the mage fully. “Are you trying to redeem yourself after trying to kill your crew?”
Malek flinched but met Vaskel’s eyes. “I’ve been told that everyone deserves a second chance.”
While Cali grumbled, Vaskel held Malek’s gaze, searching hard for signs of deception but finding none.
“If I might,” Tarrel said. “The mage still carries dark magic within him. Dark magic is hard to resist repeatedly unless it can be removed.”
Erindil whipped his head toward his nephew. “Do you think…?”
“I do.” Tarrel eyed Malek, then gave a curt bob of his head. “I will take him myself.”
Vaskel bit back a sigh at the mysterious elves and their even more enigmatic conversation. “Do you mind telling us?”
“Of course, dear boy.” Erindil rubbed his hands together. “Tarrel is offering to take Malek to Lananore where the elves can treat him and cleanse his soul of the dark magic.”
Malek bowed his head. “I would be grateful.”
“What about Marina?” Thrain asked, “We can’t exactly leave her and her hellkin crew to keep causing trouble.”
Vaskel slid up his sleeve, swallowing a shaky breath when he confirmed that there was nothing there but smooth, crimson flesh. The soul bind was gone. Even if Marina were free, she would have no more power over him. He’d also gotten his second chance.
Erindil’s face brightened, and he bounced on the balls of his feet. “I have an idea.”