Chapter 34
T here was pain, but it was strange to describe because it was good pain. It was pain that brought back memories of pleasure. She woke up to this pain, a soreness. The ache between her legs also caused an ache in her heart. She gave both away last night.
Fyn was gone. Though this time, she did not panic, knowing he would return.
She wrapped the sheet around her body and waited patiently for him, and she didn’t have to wait long.
He opened the door and came in carrying another bag with him and a flask refilled with water.
He put these on the table, knelt next to the bed, and took her hand.
As sincere as he could be, he told her, “I will return to you tonight, or, worst possible outcome, tomorrow morning. Then, I will take you to the surface. There is an exit north of the city. I’ve brought you some food and water.
” He kissed her hand. “Stay here and do not leave, for your own safety.”
“Where do you go to now?”
“I have something I must see to, but I promise I will return to you.” He stood up and glanced at the water basin. “Do you need more water?"
“No.”
“I will bring you a change of clothes when I return. What you’ve got now won’t get you through the wilderness and back to Alfheim.”
“Thank you.”
He smiled at her, and this time, it was genuine; his face lit up. There was a warmth there among his roguish exterior that she’d never noticed before. Normally, his face spoke of the grave, cold as coming death, or of a rotten scoundrel, here to sully your daughters and steal their hearts.
He leaned down and placed a kiss on her forehead, and then turned to leave. The door shut behind him, and she heard the magic spell click the lock in place.
She waited only one minute after he left and then jumped out of bed.
Her hands fumbled with the dancing costume as she pulled it over her hips and tied the halter top behind her neck.
The beads and chains were annoying, but she left them as they were.
Scooping up her boots from beside the bed and putting them on last, she disregarded her messy hair.
There was no time to search for a hair tie.
This was the worst possible thing she could ever wear, but it worked in her favor now. No Dark Elf would question her now. She did not have a collar that would mark her as a slave, so looking like a slave was the next best thing.
The Light Elf she saw yesterday was alone, without her master, but she wore a collar with his name etched on it and was left alone because of it.
Escape was futile in Myrkheim, but as long as she looked like a slave and played the part, no one would say or do anything because that meant she was another elf’s property.
She hesitated at the door, like back in the cave, feeling a presence there.
He waited on the other side, checking to make sure she did not leave before he did.
Tilting her head to the side, she then heard his footsteps on the stairs and strained to hear the door below open and close.
She waited there for an agonizing moment.
Of course, she was going to follow him. He headed to his master, and she needed answers.
The door opened with a swing. Her footsteps flew down the stairs, but she opened the door leading outside slowly, peeking through the crack to catch Fyn’s back and flowing white hair make a turn to the right down the alley.
Remembering that way, she headed to the main street from yesterday, with light steps, she passed the alleyway and made a right turn.
It was busy this time of day with the slaves and servants going to the market and the merchants swindling them with lies of great deals. She just barely caught sight of him through the crowds.
He walked fast.
She darted through the throngs of elves. Dark Elves all around gave her death glares.
“Watch it, slave.”
“Who’s your master? I’d like to have a word with him.”
Calls like these came from all sides, but she ignored them. A hand grabbed her, pulling her back. “That’s no way for a slave to act. Who is your master, Ljósálfar?”
She came face to face with an irate Dark Elf .
“House Shadowblade.” It was the first thing she could think of.
The Dark Elf immediately let go of her upon hearing that name. He then looked away like she wasn’t there anymore and went about his business.
That name held power.
Her head darted every which way to find Fyn, but he was gone. She continued up the street, hoping she’d see his back, but no matter how far she went, there was no sight of him.
Did he turn down a side street?
Though unsure, she pressed on.
A whirl of magic caught her attention, but something was peculiar about it, because … she knew this magic. Her intuition led her down a side street that was quiet, away from the hustle and bustle of the main street. There was a large house at the end of the street that drew her in.
It was Fyn’s magic. She could feel him through the cold, black stone gate. Was it because of their connection through their physical union?
Fyn entered this place.
The daunting black gate was an impenetrable fortress. Magic gleamed from the black stone, baring the way for her. There was a spell on this gate forbidding her entry. Fyn opened it with a spell of opening, and only that spell would work.
She walked past the gate, looking for another way in. Then, a low fence came up on her right, a mushroom and rock garden .
This was insane.
She didn’t know what she was walking into, whether it be a trap, a den of vipers, or death.
All the same, it was the only thing left for her.
With knowledge of his master at the heart of this, she could bring the charges against Nerilion.
Though it was better to gather information first, she’d deal with that once she got back to Alfheim.
“What are you doing here?” The sound made Aelrie twirl around, her heart catching in her throat.
A female orc stood behind her with dark red hair in a bun and light green skin. The fangs on her bottom jaw were smaller than those of male orcs. She wore simple clothes with an apron and carried a basket full of root vegetables. It looked like she was kitchen staff, back from a trip to the market.
“Ugh.” The orc cringed, looking at her outfit. “And what are you wearing?”
“I was,” Aelrie said, stalling. “Brought in yesterday … for entertainment.”
“Never mind, I asked.” This orc was snarky. “But you’re not busy now, you can help me in the kitchen. Follow me.”
The orc leaned over to open the gate to the garden, and Aelrie followed her in.
She led her through until they stopped at a large but inconspicuous-looking rock in the back.
The orc picked it up, obviously a decoy, and on the ground was a door to a concealed hatch which the orc opened with a key.
Orcs cannot use magic, so the staff must have used this way to get into the manor.
Grinning to herself, her confidence soared. She got lucky, and a way in presented itself to her .
She followed the orc down the stairs, and they walked into a pantry. The orc took some more vegetables and put them in her basket, and they headed up some stairs and ended up in the kitchen.
“We’re making roast beef with vegetables, mushroom soup, and marzipan tarts tonight.
” The orc placed the vegetables on the counter and went to get something from a different room.
She handed Aelrie some simple clothes similar to what she wore.
“Put these on in an empty room down the hall and come straight back here, no wandering around. We’ve got work to do. ”
Aelrie walked down the hall but dropped the clothes on the floor. With no intention of helping this orc slave in the kitchen, she continued her mission—to find out who Fyn’s master was and hurry back to the safe house before he returned.
There was a door from this hallway that led to the main house, and it opened into the dining room, empty now.
The first thing she noticed was the ostentatious display of wealth.
The walls, ceiling, floor, and long dining table and chairs were all black, but the room was not dour.
Purple crystals hung in a chandelier from the ceiling, giving the room an intimate violet glow that glinted off the precious gems embedded into the furniture—rubies, emeralds, sapphires, and black diamonds.
Impressively massive paintings adorned the walls in muted colors of grays and purples—scenes from the Evergloom: a pair of Dark Elves fighting an eldritch horror that emerged from a crypt, a mushroom forest cut through by a small glowing blue stream, and a portrait of a Dark Elf maiden sitting upon a throne .
The master of this manor was undoubtedly very wealthy. This was probably one of the twenty great Houses of Dark Elf society that Fyn told her about.
She crossed the dining room to the door opposite but hesitated. Whatever lay beyond it was a mystery. Aelrie from a week ago would hardly recognize the girl about to open this door.
But she cracked it open despite these warnings and listened, bracing for a gasp or shout. Only silence met her, so she eased the door open wider. Beyond was a hallway that was quiet, empty, and waiting.
She closed the door behind her and stepped softly into the hall.
The opulence from the dining room returned with force: black marble floors and walls etched with gold and towering jade vases lining the corridor like stone sentinels.
An archway formed in the middle of the hall was covered in deep purple crystals with a glittering silver crystal rim.
Amethyst. It was an enormous geode that had been cut open.
She ran a hand over the crystals as they dipped and bowed.
Voices echoed behind her. Panic surged, quickening her pulse. She slipped through the nearest door and ducked behind it, leaving it open just a crack but enough to hear. Maybe the conversation would reveal something useful.
The voices drew near. One was trying to catch up with the other and get their attention.
“What is it, slave?” The voice was male, dark, and sounded slightly annoyed. But he was not Fyn, a bit younger perhaps.
“I don’t mean to bother you, but have you seen a Light Elf slave? She was supposed to help me in the kitchen, but I can’t find her anywhere.” The orc hissed, “I just knew Light Elves were lazy.”
“Go back to your duties. I’ll handle this.”
“Thank you, kyr . Give her an extra lick with the whip for me.”
“Back to your duties.” The voice was harsh, cruel even.
“Yes, kyr ,” the orc replied softly. Her heavy footsteps trudged back to the kitchen.
Aelrie stood there silently and waited for the other one to leave, but she didn’t hear anything, no movement. That unnerved her. Was he waiting outside the door for her? She stepped back from the door and turned around to see where she was.
It looked like a study. There was a desk, bookcases, and a glass case of expensive-looking liquors. She caught movement from the corner of her eye.
“I was wondering when you’d notice me.” A Dark Elf female straightened after leaning against the wall in the back. She wore black leathers and a sadistic smile.
Aelrie felt something hit her from behind, and then all went black.