The Princess Paradigm Preview Chapters (new fantasy romance stand-alone novel)

For those of you who like to try before you buy (or read more than the sample pages of an ebook), here are the first few chapters of my new romantic fantasy novel, The Princess Paradigm.

Chapter 1

Princess Hysithea glowered at the solidified block of elven root pitch, willing it to melt so she could pour it into glass jars for transport. The dark brown cube remained firm, not so much as a corner softening. She glowered harder.

Once, she’d had magical power that she’d been able to draw upon at will, but since her return to her people and what should have been a normal way of life… that power eluded her. All through her youth, she’d had to wear a special bracer with an embedded ryshar to nullify her magic. Now, it seemed a mental block was sufficient.

She growled at the root pitch, not caring that she sounded like a cranky wolf rather than a proper elven maiden.

“You have to heat it so it melts,” came a cheerful voice from her side.

The human, Princess Aldari, who was currently being courted by Hysithea’s brother Hawk, pushed a portable burner across the table toward her.

“Just be careful about how hot you get it. I’ve learned the hard way that it’s combustible around three hundred degrees standard.” Aldari touched a strawberry-blonde eyebrow that hadn’t fully grown back after her earlier experiments. “We should put that on the labels, shouldn’t we? A warning. It’s in the brochures I made, but those are for the vendors who will buy in bulk from us, not the end users.”

“Maybe you can just draw a picture of a flaming eyebrow on the label,” Hysithea muttered.

Usually, Hysithea enjoyed talking to the academically inclined Aldari, but she’d slept poorly the night before and couldn’t manage any enthusiasm. She’d only volunteered to help with this project to avoid the group therapy session that her mother had been coercing her to attend. It was difficult seeing Aldari and Hawk kissing and laughing and happy while Hysithea was so plagued by nightmares that she struggled to sleep.

“My background is in macroeconomics, not product marketing,” Aldari said, “but I’m inclined to believe that pictures of fire-scorched body parts might deter shoppers from making a purchase.”

“Only the unadventurous. And I’m aware that the pitch needs to be heated to be manipulated.” Hysithea smiled, trying not to come across as defensive. She knew Aldari was trying to be helpful, not condescending, but these days, it seemed that everyone had a pitying tone when they spoke to Hysithea. “I was attempting to do so magically.”

“Oh,” Aldari said with a bright smile. Her beaming blue eyes and freckles were likely what had drawn Hawk to her, despite his copious pronouncements that she’s really smart! “Is your power returning? I’d heard—er, Hawk mentioned that you’re having a small problem with that.”

It was a big problem, and, despite her determination to be amicable, Hysithea couldn’t keep from glowering again.

“Sorry.” Aldari held up her hands apologetically. “It’s none of my business. I shouldn’t pry. Or listen when he burbles to me about your family. I should have put cotton in my ears. Or moss.” Aldari waved at the moss-draped trees, walkways, and buildings of the elven outpost around them. “It’s too bad we can’t sell that.”

“Our people are secretive about our best hybrids.” Paragraphs of information from a book on the history of moss cultivation in Serth, something Hysithea had read years ago, popped into her mind. Why could she remember that with precise detail but her magic eluded her?

Hawk stepped out of the hollowed tree where they were storing the jars of elven root pitch that they’d already prepared. This morning, he and Aldari had started packing several crates of the stuff to send to Delantria and Razgizar to test in their markets. Hawk wore a pitch-smeared apron over his black leather armor, an odd look for a great warrior and second son of a king, but the elves were expecting visitors—possibly hostile visitors—and he had to keep his arms and armor at hand.

“Our company has arrived,” Hawk said grimly.

Hysithea hadn’t yet heard anything, but Hawk’s magic wasn’t eluding him, so it was possible he’d detected the arrival of strangers another way.

“You two might want to step inside,” he added.

“Aren’t the Taldarians supposed to be sending a peaceful diplomatic party?” Aldari asked.

“They invaded your kingdom last month,” Hawk said, “trying to bully you into surrendering so they could force you to join the empire. Do you think they’re capable of peace and diplomacy?”

“Not when dealing with human fishermen and farmers—” Aldari waved her pitch-covered spatula at her dress to include herself in that description, “—but you’re fearsome elves. With magic. I assumed they would be polite.”

“Oh, they have been. On the surface. But they’re beyond irked with us. With me. We’ll have to put up a fearsome and intimidating front to convince them to leave Serth alone.” Hawk fastened his sword belt around his waist, perhaps forgetting he wore the apron.

Hysithea lifted a finger to tell him, but hoofbeats sounded on the mossy flagstones of the main road through the outpost. Curious, she stepped away from the tree to look, but Hawk gripped her elbow and pulled her back, shifting her and Aldari behind him.

“You’re my twin brother, not my bodyguard,” Hysithea pointed out.

“I’m your twin brother and your bodyguard. You should be honored and delighted.”

“I’m thinking of lighting that clump of pitch on your backside on fire.” Hysithea poked him in the butt to remind him of the apron—something that might not intimidate the Taldarians. “Aldari tells me it’s combustible at three hundred degrees.”

“The pitch or my butt?”

“Like eyebrows,” Aldari said, “butts singe; they don’t combust.”

“Disappointing,” Hysithea murmured, then fell silent as the Taldarian party came into view, elven warriors on foot escorting the horseback riders.

Her brother was right. The large, bronze-skinned humans from south of the Forever Fog River and the Shark Tooth Mountains did not look like diplomats.

Riding on huge black and brown warhorses, the men—the troops—wore sleeveless brown military uniforms that left their muscled arms on display, with black tattoos running from their wrists to their shoulders. Their horses carried packs, but the men carried everything from bows and quivers to black-powder pistols to swords, maces, and daggers.

Two men in the lead, one with gray hair and one with black, wore shaggy bear-fur baldrics in addition to the sleeveless uniform vests. The heads were still attached, the dead brown eyes staring out from their chests.

“What garish ornamentation,” Hysithea muttered.

The black-haired man, the muscles of his bare arms like boulders, looked over at her with the mien of a conqueror and the cold dark eyes of a killer. The towering black stallion he rode snapped at the air, as if he’d been trained to bite enemies in half. Maybe he had.

Hysithea had always heard that human hearing wasn’t as keen as that of elves, but the way the man held her gaze, his eyes challenging, made her think he’d heard her comment—and didn’t approve.

She barely resisted the urge to stick her tongue out at him. It had only been a month since her people had ended the curse of the Twisted and started learning how to use their magic again. They would prefer to avoid war with the powerful Taldarian Empire for as long as possible.

Still, she couldn’t keep from muttering, “Krayka,” a Taldarian word that meant pompous ass.

Supposedly, it wasn’t a grave insult among their people—some accepted it with pride—so she didn’t worry about him overhearing it. Her pronunciation was probably off anyway. She’d only studied their language in books.

“That’s a colonel,” Hawk murmured, more familiar with their military insignia than Hysithea. He waved to a silver crossed-swords rank pin on the shoulder of his vest above the Taldarian emblem on all the uniforms, a scepter lying diagonally across a crown. “I’m not sure about the gray-haired man. He doesn’t have any rank on display, unless one counts the bear head. Maybe he’s our diplomat.”

Judging by the way the gray-haired man sneered around the outpost as he took in the elven gardens, earthen domes, and wooden structures built into the treetops, he didn’t have diplomatic thoughts in mind.

The colonel’s stony face was harder to read, but his focus was on the elves rather than their surroundings, and his gaze lingered on Hawk, watching the way his hand rested on the hilt of his sword. As his horse drew even with their group, his dark eyes narrowed, and recognition glinted in them. Recognition and fury.

He masked the emotion quickly, but they’d all caught it.

“Was he there in Delantria?” Aldari whispered.

“He might have been,” Hawk whispered back.

“Then he knows that you and Captain Setvik…”

“Assassinated a dozen of his fellow officers to protect your people? I suspect he does.”

The colonel’s gaze shifted again to Hysithea, and was that recognition of her as well? She hadn’t been in Delantria and hadn’t had anything to do with her brother’s actions, but that might not matter to the Taldarians. Their emperor might want their whole family dead.

As if drawn by their conversation, the colonel nudged his belligerent mount, and the horse walked off the road toward them. The rest of the procession paused to wait, including the elven warriors who’d been guiding them. They rested their hands warily on their weapons and looked toward Hawk.

He held up a hand toward them and met the colonel’s gaze as the man approached, looming over them on that big horse. The animal flattened his ears and showed them his large square teeth.

“I am Colonel Mrothgar, sent by Emperor Graktar to protect Advisor Vorkroft as he speaks with your king about establishing relations with your people.” Mrothgar had a deep accented voice that matched his broad chest, and he spoke in Hyric, the most common language in the world. It was unlikely he knew Elven. “You are Prince Hawsylereth. You and a number of mercenaries assassinated many of our officers in Delantria. We know this, and will not forget.”

As if in agreement, the horse flapped his upper lip, showing off his teeth again.

“Stay out of other people’s kingdoms,” Hawk said, “and you won’t stumble across assassins. I’m sure our king will give you similar advice.”

“We will see what advice he has for us.” The gray-haired man—Vorkroft?—spoke without an accent and seemed ready to defend his officer, but he also snapped his fingers and pointed for the colonel to return to the road.

“If we were not guests in your land,” Mrothgar said, ignoring the summons in favor of glaring at Hawk, “I would challenge you to a duel and slay you.”

“Then he could take one of the females as his prize,” one of his men whispered in Taldarian.

“The elf. Those ears are sexy.”

“Exotic.”

“Definitely.”

Hysithea’s cheeks heated. Had Hawk understood the language, he might have lost his calm and sprung at the men to defend her honor. If she’d had access to her magic, she would have commanded the branches of the elven trees to knock them off their horses.

Mrothgar didn’t opine on whether he wanted a female prize, but his gaze shifted back to Hysithea, and he considered her silently for a long moment.

Did these men truly think her a prize? She, who’d shambled through the forests as a monster a month before?

Hysithea knew she wasn’t unattractive, even if she still struggled to see her true blonde-haired and pale-skinned self instead of the blue-skinned Twisted she’d so recently been, but it wasn’t as if minstrels wrote ballads about her great beauty. Nor did she have the ample hips, breasts, and butt that were more common on human women—and that even some male elves liked to ogle.

Admittedly, the colonel wasn’t ogling anything of hers. Just looking contemplatively at her.

“Perhaps I will challenge you anyway,” Mrothgar said, his eyes growing colder again as they shifted back to Hawk.

“I’ll duel you if you wish.” Hawk caressed the hilt of his sword, though it was likely his magic he was preparing to draw. “But you’ll find no prizes here. Only hardened wizards and warriors.” Apparently, he’d gotten the gist, even if he didn’t understand the language.

“Your death would be prize enough.” As the colonel glared at Hawk, his jaw tight, his hard muscles tense, tendons stood out in his neck, as if he were fighting the urge to throw himself from his horse at that very second. There was a bow staff across his back and a pistol at his belt, but his hand strayed toward a spiked mace opposite the firearm. Its metal prongs were long enough to drive into a man’s—or an elf’s—skull. “My warlord would praise me to the emperor if I slew you.”

“Colonel,” Advisor Vorkroft said sternly in Taldarian. “Come. We are here for diplomacy.”

“It was not diplomacy that this one used on our people,” Mrothgar said, switching to the same tongue. “He attacked without honor. Like a snake in the night.”

Mrothgar’s jaw remained tight, his back to his leader.

“Yes, but he has dangerous power.”

“They all do,” Mrothgar replied. “That is why we are here.”

“Yes, but bide your time.”

Hysithea realized they didn’t think any of the elves understood their language. Maybe Mrothgar hadn’t heard her insult, after all.

The colonel released his weapon and nudged his mount back toward the road, though he didn’t turn his back fully on Hawk. The horse swished his mane and lifted his tail, as if saying they were all beneath him. Who would have thought a horse could be as pompous as his rider?

Mrothgar patted the stallion on the shoulder. The horse turned his head and snapped at him, though the creature couldn’t bend his neck far enough back to be a true threat. Too bad. Mrothgar only patted him again.

To her surprise, Hysithea noticed a tattoo of a wizened woman’s face on his shoulder, just visible under the baldric. She’d seen it before in books on Taldarian symbology and knew it signaled a belief in chivalry and protecting the weak. She also knew that Taldarians’ tattoos always meant something to them and were never purely decorative.

“Lead us to your king,” he told the elven escort in Hyric.

The elves released their weapons, nodded toward Hawk, and continued down the road with the mounted Taldarians following.

A single woman in uniform rode at the rear of the group, her dark hair swept back in a tight braid. Her bare arms were almost as muscular as the men’s, and she also carried weapons.

“Who’s she?” Hysithea asked.

“That may be our guest. From what Father said, the Taldarians are proposing a so-called cultural exchange, inviting one of our people to go visit their capital city and learn about them and leaving one of their people here to do the same with us.” Hawk shrugged, his gaze stuck to the horseback riders as they continued toward the palace, elven guards striding along ahead and behind to ensure they didn’t stray. “It’s all spy stuff, of course. I’m surprised Father is agreeing to it.”

“Who’s going back with them?”

“Lady Zetrashi,” Hawk said.

Hysithea blinked. “Our schoolteacher?”

“Well, we don’t have any trained spies. We’ve been too busy dealing with the Twisted these past centuries to worry about the human nations. She can read their language though.”

“I can read their language.” It bothered Hysithea that her parents had told Hawk about all this and not her. Even though she couldn’t imagine volunteering to go off with those big brutes, she’d studied history and languages, including Taldarian, so it would have been logical for her parents to at least consider her for such a mission.

And if she’d gone, it would have been a chance to travel and see the world, something she’d always longed to do. She’d read about all of the other kingdoms and empires, but she’d never set foot outside of Serth. The ancient Taldarian Empire had existed for millennia and had numerous fascinating ruin sites, including the Crater of Chaos, where several species of animals that were extinct everywhere else in the world still existed. She would love to see that place.

“You?” Hawk gaped at her. “You’re barely back from being, uhm, you know.” He waved toward the forests where the Twisted had roamed. “Ill,” Hawk finished.

“I wasn’t ill; it was a curse.”

“Your skin was blue, your hair was white, and you were tainted by magic that made you try to kill people.”

She’d tried and succeeded, as her nightmares wouldn’t let her forget. Hysithea shook her head bleakly. “I’m well aware of what I was.”

“You need to rest and recover. Learn how to use your magic again. Remember how to smile and laugh.”

“I smile and laugh just fine.” Hysithea pointed at Aldari. “I smiled at her not five minutes ago.”

Hawk looked to Aldari for confirmation.

Aldari hesitated. “It looked more like a pained grimace than a smile, but she did try.”

Hawk patted Hysithea on the shoulder. “You’ll get back to normal eventually, but you need time to recover. You definitely don’t need to go to Taldar with a bunch of men who are as diplomatic as rabid badgers.”

“I’m surprised they’re not wearing rabid badgers,” Aldari murmured, waving in the direction they and their bear-head costumes had gone.

Hawk nodded. “It’s a good thing Lady Zetrashi has bodyguards going with her. And a lot of grit.”

“I have grit,” Hysithea muttered.

Hawk patted her shoulder again. “Of course you do.”

Hysithea knew he didn’t mean to be condescending, but she couldn’t help but feel like a toddler being told the adult world was too much for her to handle and she had best stay in her room and play with her dolls.

“I better join Mother and Father in welcoming our guests,” Hawk said. “I’ll come back to help you later, Aldari.”

He kissed her on the cheek.

“Perhaps a gift of elven root pitch would be in order.” Aldari smiled and lifted two jars. “I haven’t finished the labels for these, but maybe it’s not necessary to mention the possibility of combustion. I’m sure the Taldarians will figure it out.”

Hawk’s mouth twisted wryly. “Are you trying to blow up our visitors, Aldari?”

“Is that not diplomatic?” She handed him the jars. “Here, only give them as gifts if that colonel gets uppity and talks again about duels and prizes.”

Hysithea almost pointed out that Mrothgar hadn’t been the one to bring up prizes, but he hadn’t voiced any disagreement about the concept either.

Hawk accepted the jars and touched Aldari’s hair fondly as she removed his apron for him. Hysithea still found it strange that, while she’d been away, her brother had not only led their people to a great victory that had ended the curse of the Twisted, but he’d also developed a relationship with a woman from a neighboring kingdom. They’d been speaking not only of their root-pitch project but of marriage and where they might live together afterward.

Even though Hysithea was happy for Hawk, she couldn’t help but feel lonely and sad, knowing how unlikely it was that anyone would ever want to marry her. Not when she had the blood of her own people on her hands.

Hawk tilted his head, as if he were receiving a telepathic communication. He likely was. Now that their people no longer had to hide and stifle their magic from the Twisted, using magic to speak across a distance had become more common.

“Father wants all of us, Hysithea,” Hawk said, turning to her. “You and our older brother too.”

“So I can listen to them speaking Taldarian and offer insight into what they really want?” she asked.

“Father just said he wants us to present a united front while looking fearsome and powerful and making it clear that our people are not to be trifled with.”

“How am I supposed to help with that?” Hysithea looked pointedly down at her green dress, sandaled feet, slender build, and her utter lack of ferocity.

She’d endured the same sword-fighting lessons as Hawk when they’d been growing up, but she hadn’t picked up a blade since she’d returned to her people. In part because she’d never adored swordsmanship, and in part because mothers with children eyed her and the other survivors with wariness when they passed by. As if they believed Hysithea and the others might revert to Twisted at any moment and attack them all.

“They won’t know you don’t have your power back yet.” Hawk smiled gently—as before, he didn’t mean it to be condescending, but Hysithea couldn’t keep from wincing. He leaned into the hollowed tree and pulled out a sword one of the elves who’d brought the crates had left behind. “And I’ve seen you with a blade. You’re terrifying.”

“Especially to my own toes.”

“Maybe put some boots on before we go in.”

“Excellent idea,” Aldari said. “Then you can kick that colonel in the balls if necessary.”

Hysithea shook her head, suspecting that colonel was the type who might like a feisty woman. But she took a deep breath, accepted the sword, and followed her brother toward the outpost.

If the Taldarians were planning trouble, Hysithea wanted to help. Maybe then, her people would start looking at her like the princess she was—not the monster she’d once been.

 

Chapter 2

Hysithea climbed one of the ladders leading to the interconnected platforms twenty feet up in the great trees that housed the palace, a sprawling network of covered outdoor spaces and rooms inside trunks. She’d grown up there and should have felt at home, but as she passed the guards on the walkways, many of them looked at her as if she were a stranger. Still.

Bleakly, she hurried to catch up with her brother.

Their father’s voice grew audible as Hysithea and Hawk approached the outdoor audience chamber, a large covered area between four massive trees. It was filled with members of the Royal Guard as well as senior elves from the king and queen’s court, the latter standing and sitting in chairs and sofas that were usually arranged around fire pits and tables but now faced the raised dais on which her parents stood.

Her brother Erathian was already present, arms folded over his chest as he stood to the side of the dais. From the raised platform, the king and queen faced Colonel Mrothgar and Advisor Vorkroft. The rest of the Taldarians stood back, exchanging assessing looks with the elves of the Royal Guard. More than the handful who’d led them from the entrance of the outpost were there, all armed and ready to protect the king and queen if the Taldarians did anything aggressive.

“We welcome you to our simple home,” Father was saying, speaking in Hyric. “We are pleased that you’re making this overture and are open to diplomatic relations between our two nations.”

“Of course, Your Majesty,” Vorkroft said smoothly with a bow. “The emperor was not pleased that your people sprang into our affairs in Delantria—”

A faint growl drifted back. Had that been the colonel?

“—but in his wisdom,” Vorkroft continued, “he believes it would be wise for our two peoples to get to know each other and have a few discussions before we make any assumptions or leap into hostilities.”

Hysithea didn’t think she and Hawk had made any noise as they’d stopped at the back of the audience chamber, but Mrothgar looked over his shoulder, as if he’d heard their approach. He eyed Hawk again, as coolly as he had below. Hawk lifted his chin and looked fearlessly back at him.

“We are pleased that the emperor is open to discussion,” Mother said, drawing Mrothgar’s attention back to her. “From what we’ve heard from rulers of other nations, he often chooses to lead with swords rather than messenger falcons.”

“He is a strong leader,” Vorkroft agreed, though that wasn’t what Mother had said. “But your people, after so many centuries of keeping to yourselves, are an enigma to us.” Vorkroft’s smile was oily.

Hysithea had a feeling he wished the elves had gone on keeping to themselves. Meanwhile, Mrothgar seemed to be fantasizing about throttling Hawk. Oh, his broad back was to Hysithea, so she couldn’t know for certain, but he kept flexing his fingers into fists, the muscles in his arms bunching.

Her gaze strayed to the tattoo of the woman’s face on his shoulder that implied he was chivalrous, at least toward those weaker than he. He must not have felt Hawk qualified. A couple of his men had the same tattoo among the mix on their arms. Not, she noted, the ones who’d talked about her ears and suggested she should be a prize.

“So your emperor’s message said.” Father nodded. “Which is why he proposed this exchange. Who is the human you wish to stay with us for the next six months?”

“This is the minstrel Gyresha.” Vorkroft extended an arm toward the single woman among them. “She is a scholar as well as a singer among our people and will enjoy taking notes and learning from your kind while she’s here.”

“Taking notes and learning about our kind, no doubt,” Hawk muttered.

“Very well,” Father said.

“We will give her a room and welcome her to Serth,” Mother said.

Vorkroft placed a fist against the flat of his opposite palm and bowed to her. Once more, he gave the oily smile as he said, “I trust she will be permitted out of her room from time to time.”

“We will not imprison your envoy,” Father said. “And we trust you will treat ours with honor and respect.”

“Of course, Your Majesty. That is our way.” Vorkroft bowed to him as well.

Even though this advisor was smarmy, everything Hysithea had read about the Taldarian people did suggest they would act with honor and respect. She wasn’t surprised that the colonel had wanted to challenge Hawk to a formal duel, rather than leaping from his horse and forcing the issue.

“Where is the one who will accompany us back to the empire?” Vorkroft asked. “We are eager to begin learning from your elf envoy.”

Hawk snorted with skepticism.

“Her name is Lady Zetrashi. She is a noble, and we’re expecting her and her bodyguards soon.” Mother had no sooner finished speaking than one of the palace guards ran up to the dais carrying a scroll. He murmured a few words that Hysithea didn’t catch, then held it out.

Frowning, Mother took the scroll and read the message while Father told the Taldarians that he’d had a dome prepared for them and invited them to spend the night.

A startlingly loud whinny drifted up from below the platform.

“I thought you put that horse in the stable with the others,” someone on the ground whispered.

“I did. He escaped. And he bit Vun Teveran.”

“Ten gold dakyas says that’s the colonel’s horse,” one of the Taldarians whispered in their tongue.

“I’d be a fool to take that bet,” another whispered back, the words almost drowned out by a second whinny.

Father peered over the railing behind the dais. “Is there a problem?”

“No, Your Majesty,” someone replied in an abashed tone. “We’ll use some magical coercion.” The speaker’s voice lowered. “Since his bit is apparently decorative.”

“My horse tends to be spirited,” Mrothgar said, not needing to look over the railing to know it was his mount. He didn’t sound abashed that the horse had interrupted the meeting.

“Spiritedly stubborn,” one of his men whispered with a snicker.

Mrothgar looked over his shoulder. The whisperers straightened their backs and snapped their mouths shut, alarm in their eyes at having been heard. The corner of Mrothgar’s mouth twitched up in a smile so faint the men missed it.

Father turned his attention back to Mother when she lifted the note and gazed into his eyes, sharing some telepathic message.

“Ill?” Father asked. “You’re certain?”

“It’s penned in her own hand,” Mother said. “I’ll go see her after this and find out what’s wrong.”

“I’m afraid,” Father said, “that she who we selected to visit your land, she who had familiarity with your language, has taken ill.”

“Ill?” Vorkroft’s eyebrows flew up. “What kind of illness would afflict a woman so quickly?”

“The kind that settles in after one’s gotten a good look at us,” Mrothgar said.

“If that’s true, you shouldn’t have acted so brutishly as we advanced through their compound.”

Interestingly, they didn’t switch to their own tongue for the exchange.

Father held up a hand. “I am certain that is not it. Perhaps there is another who would be an acceptable envoy to visit your land.”

“It would have to be someone who is a quick study,” Vorkroft said, “and can learn our tongue so that we may easily communicate. Hyric is not spoken widely in the empire, and we are eager to facilitate the exchange of education and enlightenment between our two peoples.” He looked at Mrothgar, as if for agreement.

The colonel grunted. Between his beefy arms and that bear head fastened to his chest, Mrothgar looked about as enlightened as a mountain vorg, but he’d probably gained the rank of colonel because he had some intelligence, and Hysithea told herself not to underestimate him.

As Mother and Father looked at each other, then studied Erathian thoughtfully—were they debating options to replace Lady Zetrashi?—it occurred to Hysithea that she could volunteer. She was as skeptical of the Taldarians and their intent as Hawk, but this would be an opportunity to see another land—one where her dubious past wasn’t known—and with her background, she could be an ideal spy.

She already knew the language, and she’d read about Taldarian history, religion, and culture. Admittedly, she knew even more about their fascinating ruins, natural wonders, and animals that existed nowhere else in the world, but she was a better choice than Erathian. He didn’t even have any interest in elven ruins in Serth. He was smart and had read a lot, but he would far prefer stabbing strangers with swords than interacting diplomatically.

“I’m always eager to educate and enlighten,” Hysithea said in Hyric, lifting a hand.

As one, Vorkroft, Mrothgar, and the other Taldarians turned to look at her.

“No, you’re not,” Hawk whispered in Elven, grabbing her hand and pushing it down.

“Please. I’ve lectured you more times than you can remember.”

“I’m not denying that, but you’re not going with a bunch of soldiers. Male soldiers. Who knows what they would do with you once they had you in their clutches?” Hawk thrust a finger toward Mrothgar.

The colonel, who likely understood few of their words, seemed to catch the gist. “If you send Princess Hysithea with us, I will protect her with my own life until we reach the emperor in the Shining City.”

“The what?” Hawk asked.

“That’s their nickname for their capital of Kronshar, which is on the Steppes of Nohgorthal, located just past the confluence of the Tiger and Tigress Rivers.” Hysithea smiled toward the Taldarians and also toward Mother and Father. It wasn’t exactly a feat of great geographical knowledge, but the colonel’s brows rose, and he nodded at her with what might have been approval. It was hard to tell because he kept scowling at Hawk at the same time.

Unfortunately, Mother and Father did not look at Hysithea with approval. Horrorstruck expressions stamped their faces, and Mother gripped the railing behind her for support.

“If you can wait a few days before returning,” Father said to Vorkroft, “I’m certain our chosen envoy will recover from her illness and still be able to accompany you.”

“Unfortunately, we cannot wait,” Vorkroft said. “Harvest season is beginning in the empire, and even soldiers must return home to help in the fields.”

Hysithea squinted at him. From what she’d read, slaves and prisoners of war from those nations they conquered assisted their farmers during planting and harvest times. Their soldiers worked full time at their duties, either going to war or training to go to war. She opened her mouth to speak, but Vorkroft continued.

“During my preparation for this diplomatic venture,” he said, “I did some research on your family, and I believe your daughter would be a suitable person for this position. Is she not an academic and a historian?”

Father and Mother exchanged long looks again.

“Yes,” Hysithea said. “I am. I’ve even read about the crops you grow and how your harvest season works.” She held Vorkroft’s gaze when he looked back at her, wanting him to know she’d caught his lie.

Mrothgar snorted softly. “It does seem like an academic would best be able to learn from our people as well as educating us on theirs. A pure warrior might be less apt in the role.” He looked at Erathian and also Hawk.

“My daughter isn’t going off to another land with a bunch of overly muscled human males who can’t be bothered to wear proper shirts,” Mother snapped.

Father lifted a hand and murmured in Elven to her, a reminder that they were there to be diplomatic.

She called him a dolt and demanded that he reject their suggestion or she would.

“What are they angling for?” Hawk murmured, eyeing the Taldarians’ backs. “Why do they want you?”

“You don’t think they simply think me the best candidate for the job?” Hysithea asked, though she also believed they had ulterior motives.

“I don’t think there is a legitimate job. They’re only offering this supposed trade of people so they can plant a spy here. If anything, they’ll torture and interrogate whomever they take with them so they can gain even more information.” Hawk frowned fiercely at her. “I’m not allowing that to happen.”

“The colonel said he would protect me,” she said.

“Oh, I’m sure he’ll consider that a binding promise.”

“He should.” Hysithea started to explain the tattoo, and that, even without it, honor and integrity were part of their culture, but Hawk’s frown deepened, and he spoke again.

“Given that his men suggested you should be the colonel’s prize if he bested me, his idea of protection probably means you being under him in bed.”

“He didn’t say that.”

“Only because he was too busy glaring at me.”

Hysithea sighed, but she couldn’t fully fault Hawk for his assumption. High-ranking Taldarian warriors tended to be rewarded with women, and some had three or more wives, their emperor included. One occasionally read about female warriors who gained rank in their culture, but it leaned toward the patriarchal, with women having little say in politics, and their twelve warlords, the regional rulers who enforced the emperor’s mandates, were always male.

“My daughter will not be traveling to Taldar,” Father stated. “Your envoy may still stay in our city for the proposed six months, and, if at some future date, Lady Zetrashi becomes hale enough for travel, we will send her to your border with a suitable number of elven warriors as escorts.”

Hysithea’s shoulders slumped. It wasn’t that she trusted the Taldarians or dismissed her brother’s concerns, but for a moment, she’d gotten her hopes up that she might have the opportunity to travel to another land and recover from the last year’s trauma under less… sympathetic and pitying eyes.

Mrothgar turned to look back at Hysithea. “Are you certain you do not wish to come with us?” he asked, as if she, rather than her parents, had been the one to reject the offer. “The empire has a long and interesting history. As an academic, you might find studying it up close interesting.”

“She would not,” Mother said before Hysithea could reply.

She would, Hysithea thought, but she wouldn’t argue with her parents in front of visitors. Later, she would argue with them.

Still watching her—could he read her disgruntlement in her eyes?—Mrothgar added, “As I said, as an officer in the emperor’s imperial army, I can give you my word that I will protect you the entire way to the Shining City.”

“She will not be going,” Father said stiffly, “and you will direct your comments to me instead of my daughter. I invite your people to enjoy a meal here this evening and spend the night. I will write a letter that you may carry to your emperor, letting him know that we will treat his envoy well, and I will send along a gift for him to let him know that we would prefer not to be enemies going forward.”

Vorkroft huffed and looked like he would object again, but Mrothgar elbowed him.

“This is acceptable, Your Majesty,” the colonel said.

Vorkroft shot him a sidelong look. Mrothgar held up a finger but otherwise ignored him.

“They look shifty,” Hawk muttered.

“In the morning, you can return to your people,” Father continued. “We would not wish to delay you or do anything to disturb your harvest season.”

It sounded like Father had also believed that a lie.

“Of course,” Mrothgar said. “We will deliver your message, and I’ll alert the border guards to expect a visitor at some point in the near future.”

Though the colonel sounded reasonable enough, Vorkroft clenched his jaw, and a muscle ticked in his cheek. Was he irritated because he hadn’t, as Hawk suspected, gotten an elf to take along to interrogate? Or because he resented being given the lowly task of messenger boy?

“Excellent.” Father switched to Elven, asking the guards to guide their guests to suitable quarters—and keep an eye on them.

The guards bowed to him and waved the Taldarians toward one of the ladders.

Hawk drew Hysithea to the side as the men started to pass, but Mrothgar paused and bowed to her. “It was an honor to meet an elf who knows of our people and our history.” He smiled warmly at her. “I hope our paths cross again, Princess Hysithea. I would be most pleased to show you the great libraries in the Shining City or even the admittedly more modest library in my own regional capital. You could peruse the books on elves and see how much our scholars got wrong.” His smile lingered and even grew a touch wry at that comment.

In that moment when he wasn’t busy scowling at her brother, Hysithea was struck by how handsome Mrothgar was. A strange flutter teased her belly. She didn’t think it was nervousness—it wasn’t as if she was going to be permitted to go with them. Maybe it was the thought of one day being able to delve into the libraries in another nation. All of her life, she’d had only ancient Elven scrolls to study. The thought of devouring information in the vast libraries of other nations and seeing the world which she’d only read about…

“She’s not interested,” Hawk said flatly. “Continue on, Colonel.”

Mrothgar’s smile vanished as he met Hawk’s eyes, that coldness returning, and once again, Hysithea had the feeling that he wanted to pounce on her brother, to battle Hawk to the death right there, never mind how many guards were watching.

Those guards crowded closer, and the queen left the dais and strode toward Hysithea, probably to tug her to her room and lock her inside.

“Of course,” Mrothgar finally said, nodding not at Hawk or the queen but at Hysithea. “We understand your reticence. Our two peoples must travel a long road together before trust can be established.”

Mrothgar shot Hawk a dark and mistrustful look before leading his people out of the palace.

 

Chapter 3

After the visitors disappeared from view, the guards escorting the men to guest quarters and the female Taldarian to a home that had been prepared for her, Hawk rested a hand on Hysithea’s shoulder.

“Why do they want you?” he asked with a frown.

Hysithea shook her head. “I haven’t the faintest idea. I promise I didn’t wink or flirt with them.”

Hawk blinked. “Well, I assumed not. Who would flirt with someone wearing a bear head like normal people wear luck amulets?”

“Maybe it’s a lucky bear head.”

Mother, Father, and Erathian gathered around Hysithea and Hawk.

“Are you all right, dear?” Mother touched her arm, concern filling her eyes.

“Yes, Mother. All the colonel did was speak to me.”

“He was attempting to lure you with him.” Mother frowned at Father. “They did more than study us if they know what our daughter’s passions are and how to appeal to them.”

“It wasn’t as if I hid them, Mother,” Hysithea said, though she had to admit… it had sounded like the colonel had been trying to entice her. How had he known of her passion for libraries? A guess based on what she’d said? Or something their research had dug up?

“I’m relieved they only want to stay a night,” Mother said. “They’re here to spy—we knew that from the beginning—but I’m flummoxed about what else they want.” She looked pensively at Hysithea.

“Someone to interrogate,” Hawk said. “They may believe a female would be more easily cowed and reveal more information.”

“I’m not easily cowed,” Hysithea snapped. “And it’s not like I know much after being gone for a year.”

“They wouldn’t know about that though,” Hawk said. “I don’t see how they could.”

“How do they know our daughter likes libraries?” Mother asked. “It’s not as if she’s like Princess Aldari, who was publishing papers for people to find for years.”

A twinge of jealousy plucked at Hysithea’s nerves. She liked Aldari and was glad her mother did too, but a silly part of her felt like she’d been replaced in her absence, that Mother was ready to welcome Hawk’s girlfriend into the family as a new daughter. She’d even given Aldari a luck amulet that had been in the family for generations.

“Maybe I appear so bookish that it’s obvious,” Hysithea said tartly.

“There may be another reason they want her,” Erathian said, a dark look on his face. “Hysithea is a lot prettier than Lady Zetrashi. Maybe the colonel wasn’t shopping for someone to interrogate but someone to bed.”

Hawk, who’d already mentioned that, nodded. “That’s not going to happen. Can you imagine that big lout pawing over our sister?”

“He might want someone to interrogate and to bed.” Erathian balled his fists. “I should have punched him as soon as he smiled at her.”

“Enough.” Father lifted his hands. “Nobody’s bedding anyone. Hysithea will stay here, the Taldarians will leave in the morning, and we’ll be polite to their envoy over the coming months while making sure she learns nothing about our defenses or how much—or little—magic our people have learned to use since the curse ended. Tonight, the rest of their party will stay in their quarters and enjoy only the food and books located within.”

“They aren’t books that speak of the secrets of our people, are they?” Hawk asked.

“I believe there’s an encyclopedia on Serthian fungi and plants in the guest lodge,” Mother said. “And a cookbook.”

“They didn’t look much like cooks or botanists,” Hawk said.

“No,” Father said.

“Do you think any of them can read or understand our language?” Erathian asked.

“Likely not, but we can’t rule out the possibility. ’Ware your speech around the advisor, especially. Whether he understood or not, I don’t know, but I caught him following our exchange closely.” Father touched Mother’s hand.

“So, he understood me calling you a dolt?” she asked.

“I think everyone understood that,” he said dryly. “Next time, please call me a sublime warrior and leader of our people.”

Mother snorted softly, her expression softening for the first time. It grew a little sterner and more concerned as she rested a hand on Hysithea’s arm. “I want you to stay in your room until they leave. I’ll station a guard outside. I don’t know why they turned their interest so intently on you, but I’ll not chance you being swept up by kidnappers in the night. There’s been quite enough kidnapping lately as it is.” She looked pointedly at Hawk.

“Really, Mother,” he said. “That all worked out well.”

Hysithea, not appreciating the order to stay cloistered in her room under guard, waved him to silence. “I’m helping Aldari prepare the shipment that’s going out tomorrow. I can’t stay in my room.”

“For one night, you can,” Father said, siding with Mother, as usual.

“Some more rest will be good for you anyway,” Mother said. “You’re still so pale. Have you been taking the healing tincture regularly?”

Hysithea resisted the urge to roll her eyes—surely, at twenty-three, she was too old for such histrionics—but it was hard. “Yes, Mother.”

Mother lowered her voice while tightening her grip on Hysithea’s arm. “I’m sorry, but you know I’m worried about you. Saranthy says you’ve stopped attending the daily therapy sessions she’s putting on for the survivors.”

The survivors. Those who, like Hysithea, were haunted by nightmares.

She shook her head, hating the therapy group and being treated like something strange and broken—and possibly dangerous. “I don’t need the sessions anymore. I’m fine, Mother. I want to do useful work that contributes to the welfare of our people, not be a hapless victim for the rest of my life.”

“You need to heal physically and emotionally. You’ve been through a lot. Get some rest. How are your dreams? Saranthy said all of the survivors are haunted by their memories from their time when they were afflicted.”

“My dreams are fine,” Hysithea said, even though they weren’t.

“If you come to terms with your past,” Mother said, “perhaps your magic will return to you.”

Hysithea clenched her jaw to keep from snapping a retort. Her parents cared, and she understood, but she longed to be normal again. To go back to her old life. To be treated like a responsible young adult and member of the royal family, not an invalid.

“I know you want to return to your duties as a princess of Serth, but there’s no rush. Take your time. We care about you.” Mother’s brow furrowed, her smile forced and… pitying.

Father and her brothers all gave her the same look. Hysithea gritted her teeth to keep from crying out in frustration and running away from them.

“I’m glad, Mother,” she said. “But if you care about me, you won’t insist that I remain locked in my room like a wayward child.”

“It’s because we care about you that we will,” Father said sternly. “And it’s not that we don’t trust you. We don’t trust them. Hawk, escort your sister to her room, will you? And find a guard to stand outside the door. Then get some rest yourself. You’re to lead a party back to the canyon lands in the morning. The scientists that remained need someone with the proper blood to access a secret storage room that Zedaron left behind.”

“Are you sure you want me to leave now?” Hawk asked. “With Taldarians in our outpost?”

“They’ll also be leaving in the morning, and I’m certain our people can handle a few human soldiers without your assistance.”

Judging by Hawk’s pinched lips, he didn’t agree.

Hysithea didn’t agree with any of this, nor did she want to be escorted to her room by her twin brother. She nodded curtly at her family and strode off.

Because she didn’t want to be chased by a legion of guards, she headed toward the platform that led to their private rooms, though a part of her was tempted to go back to Aldari and her project—or maybe grab her bow and slip out of the outpost altogether. The lecture from Mother had her longing for a reprieve from her family. From everyone.

As she strode along the walkway toward her room, she glimpsed the Taldarians on the other side of the training arena where young elven warriors were sparring. The guards were showing them to the guest quarters, an earthen double-dome building rising from the forest floor, with vines and moss blanketing the walls. There were also guest quarters farther from the palace, but maybe Father wanted to be able to keep an eye on them.

Mrothgar’s stallion wasn’t in sight, so the magical coercion must have worked, but, judging by the guard with a shovel and bag, the animal had left a pile of droppings in front of the ladder leading to the network of platforms. Maybe he hadn’t been pleased to be separated from his rider. Hysithea wasn’t sure whether to find the horse obnoxious, or to be amused by a creature with such attitude.

The Taldarians were standing outside the guest quarters as one of the guards pointed inside and at a few nearby domes, probably explaining where they were and weren’t permitted to go during their stay. Colonel Mrothgar stood among his people, a half a head higher than the others, his tattooed shoulders gleaming in the dappled sunlight that reached the forest floor.

As if he could feel her gaze upon them—upon him—he looked up at Hysithea.

Startled, she almost tripped. If she hadn’t known that humans didn’t have any inherent magical ability, she would have believed him a wizard. Humans did, she reminded herself, have instincts, the same as elves.

She focused on the walkway and strode toward her room. No, she wouldn’t leave the outpost this evening.

As much as she longed for the comforting caress of forest breezes with no watchful eyes around, Hysithea wouldn’t risk letting herself be kidnapped. That might have worked out well for Aldari, but she’d been kidnapped by elves, not savage humans from a conquering land that extended its borders at every opportunity.

Even though their ruins and libraries might be fascinating, Hysithea had little doubt that being their guest would be unpleasant—if not deadly. Just because the colonel had smiled at her didn’t mean he didn’t want to torture and interrogate her. And she shuddered at the idea of being forced into some man’s bed.

She hated to admit it, but without her power she was nothing but a bookish girl with rudimentary weapons skills. Colonel Mrothgar and his warriors, she had little doubt, had been chosen because of their physical capabilities, and she would be helpless to fight off someone like him.

 

Chapter 4

As Hysithea lay in her bed, a book open across her chest, she stared up at the woven-branch ceiling and mulled on the question that refused to leave her alone. Why, after researching the royal family, had the Taldarians decided she was the one they wanted to invite to visit their empire? And why had they bothered to do that research? Until they’d arrived in the audience chamber, they should have believed that Father’s chosen envoy, Lady Zetrashi, would be returning with them.

Maybe it was simply that Mrothgar hadn’t wanted one of her brothers to come because they were such strong and capable warriors. As much as she hated to admit it, Hawk had been right. He and Erathian likely could stand up to torture more easily than she. After all she’d endured, she was frequently on the brink of tears in her everyday life.

Mother was probably correct that Hysithea should continue going to the therapy sessions, but it was hard to accept being broken and needing to be fixed. Besides, group hugs and listening to others natter on about their nightmares did nothing to help, as far as she could tell.

Unable to concentrate on her book, Hysithea set it aside and rose, running a finger over the shelves of the case that held her history tomes, scrolls, maps, and more. Little had been disturbed in her room in the year she’d been gone. As illogical as it had been after their people had endured centuries of the curse and the Twisted, her parents must have held out hope that, somehow, she would be returned to them.

That made her want to apologize for being snippy and frustrated with them. Whatever she’d gone through, watching one of their children be taken must have been almost as bad for them.

Hysithea stepped up to the window that overlooked the outpost. When she opened the shutters and leaned out, she could glimpse through the branches the guest house the Taldarians had been given.

A fire burned inside, its orange glow visible through their shuttered windows. From her angle, she could see the door, and it didn’t appear that any elves were standing outside on guard. That was odd. Father had ordered the Royal Guard to keep an eye on them. One of her father’s troops was standing outside her door, after all.

It was possible the guards were watching from a couple dozen yards away, giving the Taldarians the illusion of privacy. Though it wasn’t as if it would matter if they were standing right outside their windows. Few of her people had traveled outside of Serth or studied human languages beyond Hyric, the one most of the world used these days. Among the major human civilizations, only the Taldarians had refused to give up their ancient language and insisted their population spoke and wrote with it.

Hysithea bit her lip. She had been having success at picking out most of their words. If she stood outside their window, she might be able to overhear them—and find out if they were here simply to deliver their envoy and pick up another, or if they had ulterior motives.

Night had fallen, so it might not be that hard to sneak over to one of those windows without being detected.

It wasn’t only curiosity that motivated such thoughts. Hysithea also worried about her people.

Even though the elves could now use their magic, they’d only had a month to start learning how to summon and direct their power, and it was something that took a lifetime to master. In addition, there were so few elves compared to the populations in many of the human nations—the Taldar Empire reputedly had tens of millions of imperial subjects from which to draw upon for their armies. The numbers were far in their favor if their emperor planned revenge against the elves for Hawk’s actions in Delantria.

Before she’d consciously made a decision, Hysithea found herself stepping to her door, opening it, and peeking out, hoping her guard had been called off to some other duty.

A young elf warrior straightened and looked attentively at her. “Do you need something, Your Highness?”

Yes, for him to be elsewhere, so she could leave.

Hysithea forced a smile. “I just wanted to let you know that I’m tired, so I’m going to sleep. If someone brings by a meal, please have them leave it outside.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

She closed the door and eyed the window that faced the back of the platform. When she and Hawk had been children, they’d sneaked out of their rooms often, he to run off on adventures and play at swordsmanship, and she to read forbidden scrolls not kept in the public or palace archives. Scrolls that taught of magic long forgotten by her people who’d worn bracers to nullify their power and keep it from manifesting and drawing the attention of the Twisted. The creatures had been drawn to and targeted and kidnapped those who’d used their power, turning them into their own kind.

Since that was what had happened to Hysithea, maybe she should have learned her lesson about sneaking out, but she’d been risking herself to help the rest of the elves. As a princess, it had been her duty to help her people above all else. It was still her duty.

Regardless, she wasn’t leaving the outpost, just going for a walk along the paths below. Specifically, the path that led by the guest quarters.

And if she heard something crucial, she would let her parents know. Then they would see that she wasn’t an invalid. She could still be useful.

Even if the Taldarians discovered her, she was in the middle of her own outpost, not fifty yards from the palace. What would they dare do to her?

“Better not to be discovered and find out,” she whispered, climbing over the windowsill.

In this spot, the platform was thirty feet above the ground, but her people were agile, and she didn’t have much trouble finding vines and branches to hang from as she lowered herself from the window and crawled under the platform toward the nearest trunk. A couple of times, her foot slipped, and she worried the guard would hear her, but she kept from gasping or making much noise and recovered and reached the tree. There, she found handholds and climbed adroitly to the ground.

A few lanterns burning root pitch brightened the walkways and roads through the outpost, but Hysithea avoided their influence and hugged the shadows as she took a circuitous route toward the guest quarters. She wanted to approach the double-dome structure from behind rather than strolling up the walkway. The window beside the front door was open, a man visible behind a gauzy green curtain. He was likely watching for spies just like her.

Singing and laughter came from homes and lodges in the outpost, people not scarred by the past, people who could manage a smile without scowling. As she passed near the home of one of the baker families, the grunts and gasps of lovemaking proved that they weren’t bothered by having Taldarian guests nearby.

For some reason, the sounds made Hysithea blush. Once, she’d thought nothing of people engaging in sex, and she’d had a few kisses and flirtations with elven males when she’d reached the age to find them interesting, but she’d always been more focused on her studies and trying to find a solution for the Twisted than wanting to seek a life mate. Besides, her father, who’d often looked the other way when Hawk and Erathian had taken girls to the kissing spot on the bridge, had been more acerbic when he’d found his daughter flirting. Princesses, he liked to remind her, were supposed to be proper and dally only with those who came with the appropriate bloodlines.

During her time as one of the Twisted, she’d felt no sexual urges—in many ways, she hadn’t been elven at all. Even now that she was back and surrounded by her people, a part of her still wondered if she would ever feel such things again, if she was truly the person she’d once been, or if the monster still lurked inside.

Shaking her head, she pushed aside the thoughts as she sneaked closer to a shuttered back window. She stepped carefully so she wouldn’t rustle a leaf or snap a twig.

Voices floated out to her, and she inched all the way to the wall, hoping they were talking of something important and not simply grousing about their mission or giving their opinions on elven food. With a hand pressed to the moss-covered wall, she closed her eyes, putting her full concentration into understanding words and a language she’d only seen on paper until that day.

“Does it matter which one?” Mrothgar asked.

“Yes.” That was Vorkroft’s voice. “We have to get her.”

Hysithea’s breath caught. Were they talking about her?

“The emperor didn’t mention a specific elf for your mission,” Mrothgar said.

“Because he doesn’t have to deal with their magic. Trust me, Colonel. She is the one we want. I’ve done my research.”

“I have no doubt,” Mrothgar murmured.

What research could have convinced them that Hysithea was the ideal elf to come with them? Or was she being self-centered? Maybe they were speaking about Lady Zetrashi and were disgruntled that she’d taken ill.

“I assumed you understood what I wanted when you tried to lure her with promises of libraries.” Vorkroft snorted. “She’s not stopping at any libraries along the way.”

A chill went through Hysithea. They were talking about her.

“There are many libraries in the Shining City,” Mrothgar said. “And the offer did interest her.”

Yes. It had. But it bothered Hysithea that a stranger had so easily read her eagerness to explore another nation—to escape her own people for a time.

“More than your garish attempt at a seductive smile,” Vorkroft said.

“It was a simple smile, not a seductive smile.”

“Thank the divines watching over all nine celestial heavens that you don’t do either often. Your horse shows fewer teeth when he bites people. And it’s less alarming.”

Mrothgar growled. “You’re a tedious man to share a mission with.”

“We’re not sharing it, Colonel. The emperor put me in charge, with you under my command. And I’m saying the princess is the one we want.”

“We can’t kidnap her. As you should have seen when we came in, there’s a magical barrier that surrounds this place. We can’t walk through it. They must lower it for us, and I don’t believe they would be so overjoyed by our departure that they wouldn’t notice a wriggling elf bundled under a fur and wave us through.”

“I’ll get her,” another man volunteered. “Especially if she can ride with me. She’s easy on the eyes. Kind of exotic, you know? Do you think elves are any different from human women naked?”

Hysithea’s cheeks flushed with heat. Even though she’d hoped to learn why they wanted her, listening to them talk about her was discomfiting.

“Her ease on the eyes is not the reason we want her,” Vorkroft said.

“It’s the reason I want her,” the other man muttered.

“Be honorable to females, Hruthbor, even those from other lands, and keep your erotic thoughts to yourself,” Mrothgar said. “Focus on the mission.”

“I’m focusing on this chewy green bar, sir. Is this moss?”

Vorkroft sighed. “If we can snatch her, we can leave early and force the girl who lives in the tree by the entrance to lower the barrier. She looked to be alone.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Mrothgar said.

“The emperor may not have stated so explicitly,” Vorkroft said, “but the princess is the one we want. And you of all people should be eager to please him.”

“What does that mean?”

“Your warlord whispered in his ear about how suspicious it was that you survived the assassins in Delantria when so many good officers fell to the elves’ blades.”

“At my general’s behest, I was in the mountains, dealing with those snooping rangers from Razgizar, not camped in an insufficiently guarded tent right under their castle wall. Had I been there, I would not have snoozed through the night and let some skulking cowardly elf slit my throat.”

Hysithea clenched her jaw at the suggestion that any of her people were cowardly, especially the mercenaries who had gone with Hawk on that mission. They’d been doing what they had to do, with only a handful of people, to save Aldari’s kingdom and scare the Taldarians into abandoning their invasion. Hysithea might not have been there, but she trusted her brother had told the truth when he relayed the story.

“Of course not,” Vorkroft said. “You’re such a supreme warrior. Far greater than Generals Jokurith and Nakin.”

“If you wish to challenge my supremacy right now, I’m sure the elves won’t mind.”

“You’re so one-note, Colonel. I thought you read books now and then and had half a brain behind your beady eyes.”

A chair shifted, as if it had been shoved back.

Hysithea, worried someone might have realized she was out there, almost sprang away. But as Mrothgar spoke again, she suspected the two men were fully focused on each other.

“I’ll happily duel you over an Acquisition board if you prefer to pit brains against brains, Vorkroft.”

“Really? Can you keep from grunting and pounding the board with your fists when you lose?”

“I rarely lose, but if you won’t accept my challenge, you’ll have to trust me when I assure you that we’ll complete our mission with exactly the elf we need joining us.”

“You’re obnoxious, Colonel. I’m beginning to see why Harlgor doesn’t like you.”

“Warlord Harlgor is threatened by anyone who is his superior in the wrestling ring.”

“I was there when he told the emperor that you hid in the mountains because you were afraid of the Delantrians.”

“Harlgor knows I’m his better in a fight. He snipes at me whenever he gets a chance.”

“Because he’s a warlord, the emperor listens to his sniping. You had better do your best to ensure this mission goes off without a hitch.”

“It will,” Mrothgar growled. “No kidnapping will be necessary.”

“Good. The invasion hinges on this, Colonel.”

Hysithea’s jaw sagged open. Invasion?

“We don’t have time,” Vorkroft continued, “to let them further develop their powers—or start poking in old books. They might find out—”

What? Hysithea curled her fingers into the moss on the wall. What?

But silence had fallen in the guest quarters. She leaned back from the wall. Had they heard her or somehow sensed her presence?

When the silence continued, Hysithea backed several steps from the window and started walking past the building, as if she’d been out for an evening stroll. But a figure stepped out from behind a tree and into her path. A large Taldarian figure.

Hysithea leaped back, starting to scream, but she clamped it off. She wasn’t supposed to have left her room and would get in trouble if her people came running.

From behind her, a hand came down on her shoulder. She spun and came face to face with Mrothgar. How had he gotten outside so quickly?

Maybe it would be worth screaming and getting in trouble to be safe. If these people were planning an invasion, her parents had to learn of it. Everyone had to learn of it. And what had Vorkroft meant by that line about poking in old books?

“Princess Hysithea,” Mrothgar said calmly in Hyric, his hand gentle instead of hard, though his eyes were keen as they watched her.

Hysithea opened her mouth, but what was she supposed to say? Please don’t invade our kingdom; we’re still learning how to use our magic?

“Colonel Mrothgar,” she finally said, mirroring his greeting.

When the gray-haired Vorkroft rushed up to them, a hand raised, he looked like he wanted to grip her hard. And shake her.

“What ever are you doing outside our guest accommodations?” Mrothgar asked, drawing Hysithea’s gaze back to him.

~

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