CHAPTER 1 #2
His eyes flickered to me, then to the blond elven striding out from behind us. There must have been a silent command received from his counterpart, since the red-haired male shoved at the man closest to him and said, “Move. All of you. To the main hall.”
The man scuttled forward, nearly tripping on his feet as he hurried along the passageway, the others around him, all cooks and cleaners, following suit.
Something hard and sharp dug into the spot beneath my shoulder blade and I was propelled forward. I shot a look over my shoulder at the rounded hilt of a dagger that was now being re-sheathed by the blond elven.
“Move,” he said. “Or I will make you.”
Umma’s grip on my hand tightened just as my stomach twisted.
We had no control over the situation. We were completely at the mercy of the elven.
I felt sick, like I would throw up all over the hardwood floors, but there wasn’t time to even gather my thoughts.
My emotions roiled as Umma pulled me to join the throng of servants shuffling through the passage and up the set of steps that led into the upper house.
Glass crunched beneath my boots as we entered the main hall.
I squeezed Umma’s hand as I scanned the debris littering the floor and the host of people already within the room, scrunched along the edges of the walls and pressed into corners.
A dark-haired elven held court at the center.
Where his friends were lean, this one was broad, muscular, and so tall his head nearly brushed the chandelier dangling from the ceiling.
I could not see him very well from where I stood near the corner, but I could tell he wore armor, as if he were going into battle.
The hard lines of the metal cut ridges across his abdomen, angular and unforgiving. There was nothing soft about him.
I had gone from wondering whether elven truly existed to now being in the presence of three. And it was petrifying. The power emanating from them was dizzying and electrifying. It felt like the ground was spinning beneath my feet and there was no way to stop it.
The governor of the house, Unferth Golund, a portly man with a graying moustache and dark eyes, clutched the arched banister at the base of the steps leading to the second floor, his knuckles white.
The curtains were thrown wide, revealing the dark silhouette of the gardens beyond, and a chill wind whistled through one of the smashed windows.
Salt lay scattered futilely across the floors.
I clutched at my cloak, pulling it tight across my shoulders as the blond elven and his red-haired friend strode past me and straight to the one in the center.
The elven exchanged murmured words and, over one shoulder, silver eyes met mine for a second so brief I wondered if I had imagined it. Then the others stepped away, one on either side of Silver Eyes, as if falling into position.
Silver Eyes stepped forward, and the breath left my lungs when he turned his attention to the governor.
“Where is your daughter?” he asked. But there was no melody in his voice, no musical lilt like the other.
This voice was lethal calm, gravel, and death.
He strode forward, inching closer to Unferth, a glint of metal at his side catching my eye.
“We have searched the house and cannot locate her. I am not a male who likes to repeat himself, governor. You would be wise to tell us where she is.”
Unferth released his death grip on the banister, if only to take a step backward, away from the approaching elven.
Why were they searching for the governor’s daughter? No one had ever seen the girl; Unferth kept her locked away. It was rumored that she was my age and so sickly that Azrael, the God of Death, would soon collect her.
Unferth cast his wide eyes around, as if hoping a solution would drop from the heavens. For a moment, I thought he might actually confess her location. And then his eyes landed on me.
My heart pounded furiously. I realized what was happening the second after Umma breathed, “No.”
“She’s over there.” Unferth raised one thick arm, a finger pointed directly at me. “I’m so sorry, my elven master, I only sought to keep her safe in the servant’s quarters where she would be most unsuspecting. Forgive me.”
The commanding elven with the mercurial eyes looked to me again, and the hairs on the back of my arms rose. I tried to swallow, but my mouth was dry, my tongue numb. Umma shifted her grip on my arm, pulling me behind her. “She is not–”
“Silence.”
The word did not come from Silver Eyes, but from the scarred one to his left.
Umma opened her mouth, but no sound came out. Flashes of emotion, ranging from confusion to panic to horror, filled her face. She kept straining to speak to no avail. My knees went weak and fear unlike anything I had ever known gripped me. I tugged at her, steering her to face me properly.
“Umma. Umma, what’s happening?” I swiveled to Scar Face, a cruel smirk now creeping across his lips. Anger pulsed red hot through me, tinging my vision. “What did you do to her?”
The smirk faded as malevolence touched his eyes. “You dare speak to me? You impertinent mortal.”