11. Euclase
My few moments out of the waking world were filled of nightmares with large, haunted faces appearing in the ground and endless chatter.
When I gather enough strength to reopen my eyes, there are trees above me that have grown into a dome shape. It’s impossible to tell where one starts and the other ends as they reach across the clearing and form an arch.
My brows furrow, and the voices of a crowd continue to hum in a river of unintelligible noises. Instead of cutting down trees like they do in Zlosa or Shvathemar, it looks like they’ve used magic to shape them according to their needs.
The knotty bulges in the trunks look like carvings, and the wrinkled brown bark has been manipulated into the appearance of flowers and butterflies. Like a painting. Blinking away the crusted moisture in my eyes, I see squirrels, spiders, and ugly creatures with fangs sharp enough to tear a grown man’s throat crawl through branches and leaves.
The roar of hundreds of different voices makes the pounding in my head intensify, so I stay prone for a second longer.
I roll to my side and groan at the soreness. I flex my hands which is greeted by stiff pain that radiates through my arms and chest. Looking to my left, I see that the other Enduares were also laid out on the unnaturally plush grass.
My attention is drawn away when the words Enduar King rises above all others.
Taking a deep, aching breath, I slowly lift myself onto my elbow, ignoring the pulse of my brain against the confines of my skull. I rub my brow.
We are surrounded by tables with both bare elvish feet and leafy stumps on full view. My heart skips a beat when I also see ten large giant toes.
My eyes swivel up, and I blink at the giant woman who stands side by side with a dryad and an elf. When she catches me looking at her, she nudges her companions and points at me with a toothy smirk.
Just slightly behind her is a whole damned bear, though it is nothing like a ruh’glumdlor. It lacks black fur, blind eyes, and spiky armor plates on its shoulders and elbows. These are all soft brown angles and razor-sharp claws.
If it weren’t for its paws, it might be considered endearing.
My head twists from side to side, and the room goes silent. There are hundreds of elvish women, maybe even more than a thousand just in this room with many more outside. I don’t see Thorne, but the dryads I presume who dragged us here are lined up behind a thorny throne at the front of the space.
This is not a small enclave. The sisterhood isn’t a small group of dissenting women.
It’s a whole civilization apart from Arion’s rule.
“Welcome to the Sisterhood de Bhaldraithe, Enduar King,” a female voice calls out. “Pity, I was hoping you’d wear your glasses to our meeting. I’ve heard they look quite striking upon your face.”
It’s curious how they call us by our new name.
As I gaze upon the woman, I am met with rigid, elegant beauty. She has silvery blond hair, and she bears a striking resemblance to Arion. There is no doubt that he is her brother, though his practiced decorum is nothing like what she exhibits.
Liana’s words about brothers and sisters in elvish courts return to me as I take in her smooth tresses. They are braided in a dozen smaller strands that knot over her neck and shoulders. They drip off one armrest while her legs hang over the other side of the throne.
This woman is a picture of cold, comfortable indifference—of danger. Daggers are laced up her legs, and she has one out that she twirls between her fingers.
I hurry to rise, despite the stiffness in my muscles and joints. It’s a feat to keep myself from going light-headed and falling over.
I dip my head as Ra”Salore, Ulla, and Niht rise as well.
“Thank you,” I say.
She stares at me with unblinking eyes.
“Are you… Lady Mrath?” I search for the appropriate title, ready to invoke the artifact, Cumhacht na Cruinne, as bargaining leverage.
I will be able to give this deal a clean shot at success.
One corner of her mouth tilts up.
“No need for formalities here, Enduar. I have no set title—some call me a nightmare, others call me friend. Some truly idiotic men once called me princess. But I’m sure you knew that.” She swings her legs back over the edge of the throne with predatory grace and reaches over for a goblet of wine being offered to her. “My sisters call me Mrath.”
I look around as she holds up her goblet, and the rest of the room toasts to her.
“Very well, Mrath. Where are my mounts?” I ask.
“Back at your camp,” one of the dryads says.
“Well, then, would you be so kind as to tell me what this place is?”
Mrath dips her head and smiles. “You are very polite for a man. I am sure that you heard of us as a band of murderers. It is not entirely incorrect, but it is also not right.”
I listen intently, not bringing up the rumors of their rebellion.
Mrath continues. “The Sisterhood is an escape from the bondage of our old lives. Yes, there are assassins in our midst—those who were not allowed to be trained with the king’s archers and assassins. But there are just as many healers. Weavers. Travelers.” She cocks her head to the side. “We have even been known to protect a select few. For a price, of course.”
I nod. “Thank you for welcoming us into your enclave. I have urgent matters to discuss, and I have news that might be of interest to you.”
“Have we welcomed you?” She stares at us long and hard, her eyes passing from me to Niht, then Ulla and Ra”Salore, and then finally back to my face. “What has my brother done to have you sniveling and crawling to my doorstep?”
I straighten my back.
She’s goading me.
“Recently, we were seeking an alliance against the giants, so we invited King Arion to the Festival of Endu. It was my… wedding night. He told the giants of the plan, and they invaded my home and stole my mate. I need help getting her back and killing Rholker.”
She purses her lips. “Such miscare on your end, but I must admit. I already knew all of this—I wanted to know if you would lie.” Her lips curl upward. “Spying is also one of our specialties.”
I tighten my fists. “It was foolish for me to be so trusting, but I never intended for any harm to come to Estela.”
“Es-tell-ah,” she says slowly, drawing out each syllable. “Lovely human name, but I thought the giants made it a rule that humans belonged to them and them alone.”
I purse my lips. “King Erdaraj mended the agreement, but?—”
“Then he was killed by his son,” she finishes. She lets out a single laugh and shakes her head. “Lucky bastard.”
As we speak, one of the squirrels climbs up Niht’s leg and clambers to his shoulder.
Mrath watches, displeased.
“The purpose of the Sisterhood is the betterment of our people. There are neither Enduar nor human women in our ranks, yet you want our help.”
I clench my fists. “We did not know of your existence, we are barely alive ourselves. And as for the humans, others have come in search of the elves—you never met any of them?”
Dread twists in my gut when she shakes her head.
All those who came before seeking freedom with the elves… Did they all die? Arion did not know much about humans, so I assumed they would not have gone to the capital.
Mrath carefully watches my expression as the realization sinks in. We likely didn’t save a single slave we freed.
“You want access to my help? Then you must be as one of us,” she says after a few more moments. “You will learn to steal, cheat, and murder to earn your place.” She’s still spinning her knife over her fingers and letting the drops fall onto the throne. Where her blood touches, small red flowers bloom.
“Those are the rules for you to help us?” I try to clarify once more. All of those things sound like they will take an exorbitant amount of time, and ten days have already passed with Estela in the giant’s clutches.
She tilts her head back and laughs. Her spiny crown doesn’t budge.
“No, Teo. That’s what you’ll do if you want to live long enough to see your pretty little human. You came here without my permission, and there’s only one rule of Sisterhood de Bhaldraithe: don’t fuck with Mrath.”
I stare at her, watching the way her cold eyes take in our small group.
Slowly, I nod.
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”
She reclines on her great, wooden throne again.
“If you want our help, you’ll have to prove yourself someone worth helping. It’s a fine and pretty thing to say that you’ll slit my brother’s throat, or give back an artifact your father took, but I have no point of reference to know whether or not that is even true.”
My fists tighten. Thorne told her everything.
Ulla speaks up. “Our king was once called the Butcher of Giants, and his father had the ruthless brutality to blow up most of a continent. Surely that is assurance enough.”
Mrath’s chin tucks against her neck and her lips curve down slightly. The air around us feels charged with warning, and the dryads behind her creep closer.
“Words and rumors are valuable—many are even true—but I want to see you in action. Tonight. I have some rubbish I’ve been meaning to deal with for quite some time.”
Cheers erupt around us with all the women banging their goblets against the table.
Ra”Salore speaks next, clearly surprised. “You want us to kill someone tonight?”
Mrath angles her chin upward and smiles. It is a lethal look.
“How long has the king’s mate been with the giants? Ten days? I hear he’s been dragging her around… on a leash.”
Rage burns hot inside my body, and my tail flicks out behind me angrily. She knows far more than she was trying to let on earlier. She knows that Estela is my mate; she has spies in Zlosa.
“Of what do you speak?”
She shrugs. “Rholker brought a very strange group of women to handle her. She seems quite docile these days, which is a shame. I was hoping to see what kind of fire she spits out when threatened.”
“So, she’s alive and unharmed?” I ask, desperate, fighting the shaking anger inside me. There are no crystals to calm me down, no gentle embrace of the caves. I must control myself.
“Alive, yes. Unharmed? Well, you’ll have to see for yourself. If you pass the test,” she says with a grin.
A thousand scenarios pass through my mind. I see Estela’s back, the scars, the bruises. I think of her hands, her fingers. Her hair. Her feet.
Gods on their stoney thrones, what have they done to her?
“Are we in agreement then?” Mrath asks again.
I blink, looking up at her. She wants me to kill one of her targets to prove that I can help her with her brother. Killing is nothing new to me. I’ve killed enough people that my hands will be stained red forever.
My people are my redemption. I have done awful things for them—to keep them safe. To keep them alive. Estela isn’t just one of my people—she is my mate.
I look up at Mrath and stare straight into her smirking face. She looks as if she doesn’t believe I will agree to her terms.
“When we were married, I spoke a vow to my wife. I told her that I would protect her with my power, influence, and my own body. You think I am too noble to do this thing—I see it written over your face. You think The Butcher has grown soft.” I tighten my fists. “Give me your target, and I will finish it before morning.”
Mrath’s mocking smile fades. She stands up on her throne.
“Very well. Off you go—you will find your instructions in your camp.”
She snaps her fingers, and then the enclave fades. Seconds later, the camp appears around us. I look at the glacialmaras, which are untouched, as she said they would be.
Pinned to my tent with a dagger is a bloody note and a map.
The map marks something not too far from where we now stand, and the note reads:
You will deal with a woman named Laavi under our protection. Her house is marked on the map I’ve attached—I’m told she sleeps on the second level. Be wary, if she is alerted to your presence she has some nasty enchantments she can trigger that will make you all beg for a swift death.
Laavi. That name… it sparks something in the back of my mind.
“What the hell happened to this place?” Niht says, breaking the thought before it reaches completion. It’s likely just a coincidence, anyway.
I look up and see the enclave right in front of where we were camped. The forest does look different, with four or five grand houses visible through the trees. They aren’t close to each other, but it’s hard to believe we didn’t see them at all when we arrived.
Powerful glamour.
There’s much I have forgotten about the elves.
“It seems as though our eyes have been opened to this hidden place,” I say.
Ulla lets out a short melody as she comes over to help fold up the remains of our camp. Our fire has long since gone out, but our vision allows us to see quite well in the dim light. Her face is open, shining, clearly in awe by all she has seen. I forget how new this is to her.
“Are you ready?” I ask, reluctant to break her brief moment of marvel.
She lets out a breath. “How long will it take to get to the… target’s house?”
Pursing my lips, I say, “Not long. It seems it is one of the women she herself has sworn to protect.”
I point in the direction of a house with black windows just beyond the hill.
“Can we trust Mrath if she kills those who pay her for protection?” Ra’Salore asks at last.
I look at him and see his eyes dark. Deep lines bracket his mouth.
“You have been displeased with every path I have taken since I left Enduvida. I understand why you would be frustrated, but I do not wish to have a companion who questions my every move. You may go back home now, as you wished to earlier, and I will do this alone. Hell, go wherever you want.”
He says nothing, just stares intently at me.
“I—I will stay with you.”
I drag a hand over my brow. “Why? Why do you do this to everyone?”
Ra”Salore looks at Niht who is silent. Then he takes a deep breath.
“I want to see the human women when we rescue Estela.”
Ulla rolls her eyes.
“You want a mate, but you asked me to give up my own,” I say slowly. Loneliness can do awful things to one’s mind.
“I do not have to explain my desire to you again,” Ra”Salore bites out. “Much less if you all will mock me.”
I shake my head and wave off his comments. “Very well. If you complain once more, I will banish you from the mountain. I’m not lying.” The words are heavy, but Ra”Salore nods once with a tight jaw.
I show them the map and the note.
“Ra”Salore, you will climb the northern wall and scope out the inside. There is a window there,” Niht says.
Ra”Salore nods. “It won’t be a problem.”
I nod and then look at Ulla. “You will stay outside and alert us if anything goes wrong.”
She looks visibly nervous. “I would prefer to stay with you.”
I frown; she is not cut out for battle. “Whoever comes with me will need to watch everything that happens at my back. There’s a mention of enchantments, so we’ll need to be extra careful.”
Ulla reaches into her pocket and pulls out a crystal. “This detects magic, along with your spyglass. I can use it to help you.”
I open my mouth when Niht speaks.
“I will stay outside. If you hear the bellow of a caught ruh’glumdlor, you will know that something has gone terribly wrong.”
I look at the sky. It is still the middle of the night, but we don’t have long. “Let us go.”