“You are known to be a confidant of Commander Mattis,” Damaeon said warily, interpreting my warning glance correctly. “Why would you flee him to join a besieged city?”
Ellena bowed her head slightly, tears forming in her eyes. She began a long tale about the abuses she had endured while in Mattis’ service. She spoke of such atrocities and horrors that I saw Damaeon lift one hand to cover his mouth as he listened intently. The sorceress spared no detail in how she had been a slave to the Huryl, forced to do these unspeakable acts, and how it had pained her at every turn to do them. I tried my best to listen as closely as the prince, but I found my mind wandering. I thought of the many times I had faced the Huryl, and part of me found fault with the injustices Ellena heaped upon them. True, they were not the most hospitable people, but Ellena had never seemed unwilling to do what was asked of her either, especially when asked by Commander Mattis.
As my mind fell to Mattis, I forced myself to suppress a shudder. I had never before encountered a man I despised more. He was cruel and arrogant, and I began to feel more sympathetic to Ellena’s plight. If there was something I could do to help this unfortunate woman, I knew I should. I felt tears forming in my eyes and I lifted my hand to wipe them away, disturbing the air around my face. I caught the faint scent of lilacs, and I paused in mid-motion. Damaeon, I noticed, was hanging on Ellena’s every word, nodding occasionally and frowning slightly as she spoke. There were tears in his eyes as well, but he allowed them to run freely down his cheeks. Lowering my hand, I kept my face frozen in a sympathetic expression as Ellena’s eyes met mind, and the corners of her mouth twitched in a brief smile.
She’s casting a spell, I thought triumphantly.
My eyes moved about the room, noticing that all the windows were closed, as was the door leading into the castle. Calling upon my newfound powers, the slightest draft began to circulate through the room. I hoped this would interrupt whatever magic the sorceress was doing, and free both myself and the prince from her spell. Unfortunately, I was too late to keep Damaeon from rising to his feet and speaking.
“Of course we will grant you sanctuary from your oppressors,” he said, stepping down from his throne to clasp Ellena’s hands. “It will never be said that the Dyrel are a cruel and heartless race.”
“Damaeon!” I exclaimed, forgetting both my place and his. As he turned with a dark expression on his face, I felt my cheeks flush with embarrassment. “Um, I mean, your Highness, I don’t believe she can be trusted.”
“Why do you say that, Leila?” the prince asked without releasing Ellena’s hands.
“She is the personal servant of the Huryl commander,” I reminded him. “I have seen her risk much to save his life. I doubt much could have happened to suddenly change her mind.”
“But it has,” Ellena insisted. “Leila, you must believe me. I wish nothing more than to be free of the Huryl camp.”
“She is also casting a spell to sway our emotions,” I added, ignoring the sorceress’ words.
Damaeon dropped Ellena’s hands and took a step backwards, towards his throne. The sorceress relaxed her arms to her sides and lowered her gaze to the floor. I watched her, and once again felt the kind of betrayal that comes with being unwittingly enchanted. At least the sorceress had the decency to look ashamed when discovered.
“It’s true, your Highness,” Ellena admitted. “I did cast a spell to have you trust my words and take me in, but you must believe the Huryl invasion is coming!”
“We can’t return her to her people now that she has seen our defenses,” Damaeon mused, sitting once more on his throne. “We’ll have to keep her here, as a prisoner of war.”
I could hear the distaste with which he spoke the final words, but I agreed with him. Ellena was too dangerous to be released back to Mattis, and I liked the idea of taking away Mattis’ magical ally.
“Leila,” Damaeon said, turning to face me. “Bring the sorceress to the tower. Do whatever is necessary to make sure she casts no magic.”
“I’m not a
magician,” I objected. “How can I stop her?”
The prince took my hands in
his and stared deeply into my eyes. “You are resourceful, and more powerful
than you think. I’m placing Ellena in your care.”
Swallowing hard, I nodded and stepped down from the platform that housed Damaeon’s throne. I walked up to Ellena and met her gaze squarely. Neither of us spoke, and after a few seconds I gestured towards the two guards to lead the way to the tower.
“You are changed, Leila Sinclair,” Ellena remarked as we moved down the hall.
“A lot has happened,” I replied shortly.
“I heard of the death of your companion,” Ellena continued. “I grieved. She was a formidable warrior. May I see her, to pay my last respects?”
I stopped short, nearly causing the guards to bump into me. “Who told you?”
“The Woodwalker. I summoned him when we arrived in the Spirit Wood.”
My heart lurched. Fynn, who had been the only one I trusted. Fynn, who had saved my life many times, and I his. Fynn, who had been the one who killed Clothis. He had betrayed me again, this time to the Huryl. I realized we were standing just outside the door where Clothis lay, and that the two guards were staring at me. I cleared my throat and tried to sound important.
“Wait here,” I told the guards. “The prisoner has a last request.”
The guards exchanged looks and one shrugged. I opened the door to the crypt and held it as Ellena entered. With a final look at the soldiers, I closed the door behind us.
The room was dark, but the torches flared to life as I entered, the flames waving at my arrival. Clothis lay as we had left her, looking remarkably as she had when she slept. I stood by her feet, but Ellena started to walk full circle around her, her long elegant fingers lightly touching Clothis’ skin, sword, and hair. Ellena paused at Clothis’ head, directly opposite from where I stood. She caressed the dead girls’ hair as she raised her eyes to meet mine.
“I did not lie to you, Leila,” she said. “Mattis is coming with an army. You gained only a little time in the desert.”
“It was enough,” I replied. “But why would Mattis send you to warn us?”
“The attack will come in a few hours, but it will not be his full force. If you don’t believe me, see for yourself. The woods are your eyes and ears now.”
I regarded her warily for a moment before taking her advice. I closed my eyes and summoned the tree spirits in the forest surrounding Oponoe. They were terrified, complaining bitterly of the axe-wielding humans that trampled through the bush. I could see the humans as the trees did, foggy and larger-than-life, but I could also see their numbers, and I knew the warning was true.
I opened my eyes to find Ellena still staring at me, only this time she held Clothis’ sword in her hands. She stepped towards me, and I stepped back, hoping she was not intending to use the weapon. Instead she stopped and held it out for me to take. I blinked stupidly.
“Take it,” Ellena said.
“I can’t,” I protested. “Clothis must be buried with her sword, like a proper warrior.”
“She died for you! You must wield her sword!”
“I don’t even know how to use a sword!”
There was a swift knock at the door, and I turned to see the two guards burst in. They looked from me to Ellena, and back again. I glanced over my shoulder at the sorceress and saw that the sword had been returned to Clothis’ side.
“Apologies, Lady Leila,” one of the guards stammered. “We heard you raise your voice and thought it best if we enter.”
“Word has also come that the Huryl have been spotted in the woods,” the other added quickly. “We must put the prisoner in the tower quickly and return to our posts.”
“Of course,” I replied. “I’m sorry to have kept you both so long.”
Ellena gave me a knowing, I-told-you-so type of look as she passed by me and through the door. I took a last look at Clothis before following her out. The guards brought us to the end of the hallway, through a small entrance, and up a long, winding staircase with a single door at the summit. The door was opened and Ellena walked inside.
The room that was to be her prison was extravagantly decorated in whites and golds, with a four-poster bed in the centre, a writing desk with paper, a fireplace, and an extensive library. I half wished that I could be incarcerated with her and spend the war in safety, but I knew my place was with the prince. I glanced out of the single window and saw myself looking down at the Spirit Wood, with the tall Huryl mountains looming behind it. I turned to leave, but Ellena caught my wrist.
“I was not lying, Leila,” she said urgently. “Remember that.”
“Why did you come to Oponoe, Ellena?” I asked her gently.
The sorceress released my hand and glanced towards the window. “I have lost much over the years. I have become something I dislike, and I would like to redeem myself while I am still able, but I cannot do all that I would like. Please, Leila. You must help me.”
I bit my lip, unsure how to react. The guards called to me, asking me to hurry, and so I left. She was still watching me as the door closed behind me and was securely locked. I summoned a wind spirit, asking it to guard against any spells, and nodded to the soldier who was to remain outside the door. Feeling confident that I had done all I could, I hurried down the stairs and towards the throne room where I assumed the prince would be.
I found the main hall to be a flurry of activity. Servants, soldiers, and countless other people filled the hall, churning about like a whirlpool. The remaining guard vanished from my side, and I quickly found myself caught in the current that swept about the hall. As I drifted past a group of soldiers, I reached out and grabbed one of them by the arm.
“Watch it!” he snapped irritably. “We’re at war, you know.”
“I’m sorry,” I apologized, “but do you know where the prince is?”
The soldier’s eyes widened in shock as he realized who had grabbed his arm. He elbowed his neighbour without taking his eyes from me, and his companion gasped.
“Lady Leila!” he exclaimed.
The chaos in the main hall suddenly ground to a halt and all eyes turned to me. I tried my best to ignore the staring eyes of the men and women by keeping my gaze firmly fixed on the soldier I had caught. The whispered voices of the Dyrel filled the area, and I heard my name mixed with words like ‘prophecy’ and ‘spirit’.
“His Highness is at the city gates, overseeing the troops,” my soldier replied. “I’ll take you to him.”
“Cyrus, Sarge wants us in position,” his friend objected.
“Tell Sarge I’m helping Lady Leila,” Cyrus replied, taking my arm and draping it over his. “This way, my lady.”
I couldn’t help but smile at my star-struck guide. He quickly led me down the palace steps and into the streets of Oponoe, making a beeline for the gates. In the sunlight, I could see him much more clearly. He wore his brown hair very short and was dressed in an olive green uniform. The whole time he spoke about the Promised Child, and how he had known since he was a child that he would meet me. He had even decided to join the army to ensure that he would be close to the prince when the time of prophecy came.
I listened bemusedly as we passed through the streets, still largely destroyed from the first assault on the city. The citizens, I observed, were all wisely staying in their homes, although some peered fearfully through windows and doors. I was suddenly acutely aware of how strange I must look in my long white robes. I must seem imposing to the Dyrel who had been waiting for the Promised Child for centuries. I smiled at my guide.
“Have the Huryl come yet, soldier?” I asked.
“The name’s Cyrus,” my guide said by way of introduction, “and I haven’t seen the Huryl dogs yet. His Highness has the elves standing by with bows, ready to pick them off.”
Suddenly, Cyrus stopped dead in his tracks and looked at me with a worried expression. “I don’t think the prince would like it if I brought you to the battle, my lady. Are you sure you want to go? I can always deliver any message you have for the prince, and keep you safely in the palace.”
I shook my head. “No, I will deliver the message in person to the prince.”
Cyrus shrugged. “As long as you don’t get me in trouble for bringing you, my lady. Soldiering is all I know, and I’d hate to lose my livelihood.”
I grinned. “Your secret is safe with me.”
I found Damaeon in a small store that had been converted into his base of operations, just inside the city walls. He looked up in surprise as I entered, dismissing his generals with a wave of his hand as I waited.
“What are you doing here?” he demanded. “You’re supposed to be guarding the sorceress.”
“It’s covered,” I assured him. “And I have an important message for you. The initial Huryl attack will only be a fraction of their full force. The main attack will come later, probably tomorrow.”
He raised an eyebrow at me inquiringly. I winked at him. “I asked the spirits to do some spying for me.”
“I’m glad you’re on our side,” Damaeon said. “Now go back to the palace before the attack comes. I don’t want you in battle.”
I opened my mouth to answer him when a soldier stuck his head through the open door. It was too late. The battle had begun, and I was at the front. The prince looked at me pleadingly, asking me to leave while I still could. I thought of Cyrus and Jakob, who would be risking their lives to fight, and wondered if I should stay. On the other hand, Gael was at the palace and could use my help with the injured, once the attack was over. I ran the pros and cons through my mind as I decided whether to stay or go.