Chapter 21

Kaduil was in a foul mood by the time they reached Brosa, they’d stayed a few hours behind the caravaners to keep from causing them concern and the pace was excruciatingly slow. But the sight of six furious elves walking toward them as they entered the city brought a grim smile to his face. “Syreilla managed to outwit six of them.”

“That means she’s in Brosa with Vezar.” Weran reminded him.

“Did she send for you to collect her?” Olthon inquired sourly as he approached the wagon.

“No, you-” 

Bhirren put a hand on Kaduil’s shoulder and squeezed hard, stopping him from insulting the elf.

“We heard someone hit her and she wanted to come home. We came to fetch her. She managed to get away from you?” Bhirren almost sounded pleasant.

“She said she wouldn’t try to run again until we were out of the forest. I mistakenly thought she was teasing.” Olthon looked at Kaduil sharply. “Syreilla was pleasant and charming until we lowered our guard and the first night we were out of the forest she overpowered the watch and took all of the horses. We’ve followed her here but she seems to know how to keep herself unseen.”

Weran snorted, “If Syreilla was pleasant and charming that should have been your first warning to be on your toes.”

One of the elves muttered, “Overpowered the watch.”

Kaduil watched as Olthon straightened, and the muscle in the elf’s jaw twitched. “Silence, Tirnel.”

“No. You were so taken with her, she was able to subdue you without difficulty. And you say she overpowered the watch as if it were one of us that your dear Syreilla battled past.” The elf he’d called Tirnel looked almost murderously angry.

Pulling his axe in front of him, Kaduil stopped the bickering with a look. “My Syreilla was never going to let you harm her brother. She’s as loyal as a hound.” He looked the elves over. “I want to know which one of you raised a hand to my wife.”

“Let’s find her before we start cutting them like firewood.” Bhirren suggested pointedly. “If Vezar came here to find her he’ll know where to look for her. He’ll do worse than raise a hand to her.”

“We’ll help you look. If Vezar is here she’ll need our help whether she wants it or not.” Olthon’s cool tone suggested he was less interested in helping Syr than he was in killing Vezar.

“Start at the temple of Imos. She likes talking about how much fun it is to get in and out of. They’ve been trying to keep her out for years.” Kaduil suggested brusquely.

“A temple?” Olthon raised an eyebrow. “Even Vezar would discourage that.”

“You can discourage her all you want.” Kaduil shrugged with a scowl. “She doesn’t listen. If they put up a fight and make it a challenge she’ll keep going back. Easy is the only thing she leaves alone.”

The elf almost looked proud. “She’s wasted on you, but keeping her in a mine might be safer for everyone.”

“She won’t be leaving it for at least a year.” Kaduil promised grimly.

The elves spread out as they reached the temple looking closely at the crowds. Kaduil and the dwarves looked at the beggars. Hiding in plain sight, someone no one would look at twice, was her idea of concealment.

People began to try to push their way into the temple, some babbling about a monster, the elves began trying to speak to them immediately to discover where. The dwarves just followed the guards.

The screams raised the hair on Kaduil’s neck. Guards came back toward them in fear and when they’d calmed they started talking about a monster and a woman casting horrible spells. Olthon caught up in time to hear them. 

“She’s protecting him.”

“Or frightening them away.” Bhirren shook his head. “They were going after Vezar because they could land blows, she stepped up and sent them screaming away.”

“She’s doing both.” Kaduil rubbed his face and muttered under his breath, “My golden-haired girl.”

“She’s-she’s not golden-haired.” One of the guards offered. “She’s got black hair and eyes. It looked like she was melting at first and then she stopped and he stood her up. She looked sick and then she started casting spells onto the ground.”

“No.” Olthon grabbed him by the shirt. “Is she a half-elf?”

“N-no.”

“What did he do, Olthon?” One of the elves asked before Kaduil could.

“He changed her. He must have nearly killed her.” Olthon loosened his grip on the frightened man and stepped back. “I didn’t know that he could.”

“What did he do?” Kaduil asked, feeling a cold chill creeping up his spine.

“He made her like him.” Olthon looked pale as he looked down the street. “Vezar changed her into what he is.” Looking back to Kaduil he asked quietly, “What would she do if she had to devour men and women to survive?”

“She’d starve,” Kaduil said with grim certainty. “She’s got a softer heart than she lets on.”

The elf looked relieved. “Vezar will want to change that as well. We can get to her before that I hope. There may be some way to get her back.”

“Let’s go get her, then.” Weran stepped forward drawing his own axe to hand.

“We go together, and slowly, Master Dwarf. She’ll have laid wards behind her.” The elves ranged ahead, finding Syr’s wards and dispelling them. Kaduil looked at the withered dead strewing the streets with revulsion. Syreilla was with the creature who had done all of this. A creature that was trying to make her like him.

“Kaduil!” Bhirren called him over. On the ground was the boot knife he’d given her, there was blood and her hair as if she’d fallen and cracked her skull. He picked up the knife and remembered suddenly to breathe. This was why Vezar changed her, he was trying to save her life.

“What have you found, Master Dwarf?” One of the elves asked.

It took him several tries to be able to speak. “Syr’s knife.”

“There’s what looks like it might have been a lich here.” Bhirren said thoughtfully. “Looks like someone killed it with dragon’s fire.”

“She must have been on the roof.” Olthon had approached and looked at the blood and hair. “The lich must have attacked Vezar. It’s happened before. She poured dragon’s fire on it and when it turned to attack her it must have knocked her from her perch.”

“He was trying to save her.” Kaduil whispered, turning her knife in his hands. 

“Perhaps.” Olthon crouched in front of him. “We must find her.” He held out a chunk of metal. “Touch it while you think of her, if you are bound to her I may be able to follow her threads.”

Kaduil put his hand on it without a second thought. “Find my Syreilla. I don’t care what he’s done.”

Olthon’s smile was vicious. “The two of you are bound more tightly than she is to Vezar. She’s running. The nearest gate.” He stood and they began moving as quickly as they dared to the gate.

There was a crush of people at the gate. Many had heard what had happened and were trying to flee. No one was stopping any of them to look for the troublemakers, no doubt if they wanted to leave they wanted them gone. 

The elves were almost pouncing on every dark-haired woman, looking for the right one. Kaduil climbed to the top of a stack of crates to look. Passing through the gate was a plump, brown-haired beauty with a younger man clinging to her. He saw the way she turned to look at him and the recognition in her eyes. “Syreilla!” She stopped but the younger man dragged her forward. “Syreilla!”

The elves were wading through the crowd, some toward where he was looking and Olthon was coming to the crates. “Are you certain?” 

“She has brown hair now, plump and pretty, Vezar was a young looking man, sixteen maybe. He dragged her off when she stopped to come to me.”