Chapter 22
CHAPTER 22
N eve whipped around.
A little man stepped from a mineshaft, with weather-worn skin and a beaming smile. Dressed in filthy coveralls, every part of him was sheened with gray dust. He carried a coal pencil and a sheaf of parchment covered in markings.
“Didn’t expect to see anyone here,” he said, ambling over to her. He removed the cap from his head and bowed deeply. “Are you local to the village then, dearie?”
“I—” Neve cleared her throat, remembering that she was supposed to be in hiding. It was dangerous to have anyone spotting her at all. “No. I’m passing through.”
“Ah. I see.” He hitched up his rosy-cheeked smile. “I’m Griffan. A pleasure to meet you.”
“Likewise, Griffan.” Casting around for a false identity, she landed on the name of the elf that Riella rescued on the night of the royal wedding. “I’m Seraphine.”
“Very good. And where are you from, Seraphine?”
“Oh, a fishing village in the south.” She glanced at the parchment in his hands, trying to read the writing, but the symbols were foreign to her. “Might I ask what you’re doing?” she asked, eager to steer the conversation away from her provenance. “It looks intriguing.”
“Aye, I’m glad you think so, but ’tis nothing much. I was sent here to survey the mine and see what it would take to get it working again. My master said it’s by order of royal decree.” He bounced on the balls of his feet.
Ice water trickled down Neve’s spine. “Royal decree? Do you mean the Crown in Klatos ordered it?”
“I s’pose.” He gave an affable shrug. “We’re surveying mines all over the kingdom as we speak.”
Neve narrowed her eyes at the rocks with new interest. “What’s the mineral? I don’t recognize it.”
“Ah. It’s called Melr. Our new queen was named after it, my master said.”
Recollections flew thick and fast at Neve. She’d never seen Melr before, but she’d heard about it at Starlight Gardens. The mineral was highly toxic to sorcerers, and suppressed their magic.
Levissina was rumored to have been subdued with Melr manacles when Reynard Garstang tried to burn her at the stake in Morktland.
“And what does it do?” asked Neve, feigning ignorance. It was imperative to not reveal she was a mage. Whoever Griffan’s master was, they associated with the Crown. “I’ve never seen it before.”
Griffan scratched his head. “Kills magic, I reckon.”
“Right.” Her instincts screamed at her to turn and run from this place. Even though she wasn’t touching the Melr, the mineral seemed to affect her. Her limbs felt heavy, her hands tingled, and her mind was foggy. But if the queen wanted the mine operational, Neve had to discover all that Griffan knew. “And it’s going to the palace, you said?”
“No, no. The mineral’s to be shipped directly to Morktland, and lots of it.” He rustled his parchment. “You know what they’re like up there. Bit touchy when it comes to magic, the Morktland folk are.”
“So I’ve heard,” said Neve in what she hoped was an offhand way.
His cheery smile was replaced with an earnest look. “Now, I’ve no problem with magic, of course. But that Reynard is said to be a maniac, and you can’t reason with a maniac, can ye? Best you steer clear of ‘em altogether.”
Griffan gave a knowing wink.
Alarm filled Neve. Could he tell she was a sorceress? Was he trying to wheedle confirmation from her?
“Quite right,” she replied with a smile. She began backing away. “I shall leave you to your work, then. My apologies for the interruption.”
“Not at all. You’ll never catch me complaining about having a conversation with a lovely lady.” He inclined his head. “Pleasure to meet ye, Seraphine.”
“And you. Farewell, Griffan.”
Heart hammering, Neve turned on her heel and climbed the path as fast as she dared. When she reached the mine’s summit, she looked back. Griffan was poking around the contents of a cart, making notes on his parchment.
The farther she walked through the forest, the more the Melr’s effects faded. By the time she reached the place where she’d parted from Eleksi, the dullness had faded entirely. Fretting, she sat on a large, moss-covered boulder to wait for him.
Neve couldn’t decide if she was reassured or worried that the mineral was bound for Morktland, not Klatos.
What did Reynard plan to do with large amounts of Melr? Any sorcerer unfortunate enough to originate from his kingdom either hid their abilities or fled to the relative safety of the southern kingdoms. Levissina had been one such sorceress.
She was rumored to have overcome the metal with magic, although Neve couldn’t imagine how. The whole point of Melr was that it nullified sorcery. But if anyone could find a way, it was the gifted Levissina.
Not for the first time, she wished Levissina hadn’t fallen to darkness, so that she might’ve passed on some of her vast knowledge.
Neve wondered if there had been a moment when Levissina decided to abandon restraint and goodness forever, as was commonly believed. Or perhaps it had been a gradual process, her patience being chipped away piece by piece, like rocks from the mine, until her resolve came crashing down.
Eleksi had chosen a black path, too. His reasons seemed to have been fashioned by his cruel father and fractured childhood. He’d grown up believing he was the incarnation of death. To him, becoming an assassin must’ve seemed like a reasonable and logical progression. Inevitable, even.
The morning turned to early afternoon, the chattering birds becoming quiet. To her relief, Griffan didn’t climb the same path as her. As friendly and unassuming as he’d seemed, she didn’t wish to imprint herself on his memory any more than she already had.
Her chest fluttered when Eleksi returned from the village. An ornate leather scabbard was slung over his shoulder and he moved soundlessly through the trees toward her. The hood of his cloak covered his head, making him appear perfectly anonymous except for the deadly grace with which he moved.
As he drew closer, his face became visible. His angular features relaxed into a smile when he drew level with her.
“Are you alright?” he asked at once, registering her expression. “You appear troubled.”
She hesitated. “You, uh, were right about the mine. I should’ve stayed away. There was a man down there named Griffan.”
She described the encounter in full as they began the walk back to Eleksi’s house. He slid the spider ring onto his thumb as he listened. The more information she relayed, the deeper his frown became.
“Yet another reason to neutralize Meliohr,” replied Eleksi when she’d finished speaking. “If we can act in time, we might prevent the mines from becoming operational again. Melr hasn’t been mined in Zermes in generations, I believe.”
“This mine looks very old and broken down. But I suppose it doesn’t take much trouble to start chipping rocks from a mountain again.”
Neve squirmed as she recalled the dullness in her head and limbs from the Melr rocks. “I can’t imagine how awful it must feel to be shackled with it.”
“That’s never going to happen,” said Eleksi with a sharpness that startled her. “No one will ever?—”
He halted, mid-stride. His hand latched onto her arm, jerking her to a stop. She went to query him, but closed her mouth when she saw his face. He wore an expression of fierce concentration, his eyes darting around the trees from beneath his hood.
She listened hard, but discerned only the gentle rustling of leaves.
An unearthly whistling cut through the sound of the leaves, growing louder. Neve couldn’t tell where it came from, or even what it was. While she was deciding whether to duck or run, Eleksi covered her body with his, careening them sideways into the thick green undergrowth.
From the ground, Neve looked up.
A quivering arrow protruded from the tree trunk, where her head had been just moments ago.