pleasant, and my mind floated, feeling relief from pain. Everything tingled. It was like being mildly drunk, buzzed from a few shots of vodka. There were no words in his spell like there were in human magic. My flesh rolled against bone, bone slid against flesh, knitting and healing in a dance of golden warmth. My mind cleared and I saw Taullian as he continued to work his hands along my body, hovering them a fraction of an inch above my naked skin. A golden glow shone as a buffer between us, glittering like dust motes in the morning sunlight.
My eyes traveled up him as he worked, taking in the draped clothing all elves wore, fresh and unwrinkled. They were always that way. Weeks of travel, and they never stank of sweat and dirt, never looked greasy or in need of a bath. Their clothing always looked freshly laundered, their hair shining and clean. But his face—the elf lord looked as if he’d aged three centuries since I’d seen him last. His mouth was a tight, narrow line, skin creased at either edge, his eyelids heavy—dark underneath and slightly swollen. Lines ran across his forehead and dove down into a deep V between his brows. He was an asshole, just not as much of an asshole as Feille. Maybe he was right and the enemy of my enemy could be an ally.
“There,” he pronounced, rising. He didn’t look at my face, didn’t even bother to meet my gaze so intent on him. “At least I can be confident you’ll survive the journey now.”
“We’re not going to gate?” I’d decided to hold back on my impulse to attack him and attempt an escape. His staff were right outside the dungeon, ready to race in if needed, and I had a feeling Taullian would be of more use to me alive.
He shook his head. “I can’t waste the magic or my people’s energy.”
He fingered the net and the collar, and I held my breath, trying to decide if it would be in my best interests to let him confine me with them, or fight for short-lived freedom. Luckily I didn’t have to choose. He dropped both back onto the stone floor.
Without another word, he left, shutting the cell door firmly behind him. I had no idea when we were supposed to travel. I was starving, but otherwise physically fine. If only my spirit self were as fit. Everything inside my flesh ached with a dull throb. Scar tissue was once again forming over the sections that had cracked and re-opened with the sorcerer’s spells, and I felt an uncomfortable tightness once again. My stomach growled loudly as I lay naked on the cold stone floor. Would I ever be right, or would I spend the rest of my life with little more than the skills and abilities of the human form I now wore? If so, it would probably be a very short life.
10
T aullian and his traveling party came in the next morning, bringing an array of food. My stomach clenched at the smell, and I hated them for torturing me so.
“Feed her,” the high lord commanded. “Then we will discuss transportation options.”
Kirby came toward me in a swish of robes, a platter of food in his hands. He looked good—tired and stressed, as they all did, but pretty much the same Kirby I’d seen before. I had made good on the favor I’d promised when I’d last seen him, delivering to his parents both his note and the marble he’d been carrying when he’d fallen through the elf gates. It had been one of the hardest things I’d ever done. I hated seeing the pain on their faces, imagining how I’d feel if it were someone I loved, long gone and presumed dead. Kirby met my eyes and gave a nearly unperceivable shake of his head. Here, at last, was someone on my side, someone I could trust. He could let Dar and my household know where I was, have them contact Wyatt, have Wyatt warn Gregory. I slumped in a relief I hadn’t felt in months.
“Just drag her behind the horses,” one of the elves mentioned. I started , realized they were debating my transportation.
Taullian pursed his lips. “She’d take injury and be unable to fix
My eyes traveled up him as he worked, taking in the draped clothing all elves wore, fresh and unwrinkled. They were always that way. Weeks of travel, and they never stank of sweat and dirt, never looked greasy or in need of a bath. Their clothing always looked freshly laundered, their hair shining and clean. But his face—the elf lord looked as if he’d aged three centuries since I’d seen him last. His mouth was a tight, narrow line, skin creased at either edge, his eyelids heavy—dark underneath and slightly swollen. Lines ran across his forehead and dove down into a deep V between his brows. He was an asshole, just not as much of an asshole as Feille. Maybe he was right and the enemy of my enemy could be an ally.
“There,” he pronounced, rising. He didn’t look at my face, didn’t even bother to meet my gaze so intent on him. “At least I can be confident you’ll survive the journey now.”
“We’re not going to gate?” I’d decided to hold back on my impulse to attack him and attempt an escape. His staff were right outside the dungeon, ready to race in if needed, and I had a feeling Taullian would be of more use to me alive.
He shook his head. “I can’t waste the magic or my people’s energy.”
He fingered the net and the collar, and I held my breath, trying to decide if it would be in my best interests to let him confine me with them, or fight for short-lived freedom. Luckily I didn’t have to choose. He dropped both back onto the stone floor.
Without another word, he left, shutting the cell door firmly behind him. I had no idea when we were supposed to travel. I was starving, but otherwise physically fine. If only my spirit self were as fit. Everything inside my flesh ached with a dull throb. Scar tissue was once again forming over the sections that had cracked and re-opened with the sorcerer’s spells, and I felt an uncomfortable tightness once again. My stomach growled loudly as I lay naked on the cold stone floor. Would I ever be right, or would I spend the rest of my life with little more than the skills and abilities of the human form I now wore? If so, it would probably be a very short life.
10
T aullian and his traveling party came in the next morning, bringing an array of food. My stomach clenched at the smell, and I hated them for torturing me so.
“Feed her,” the high lord commanded. “Then we will discuss transportation options.”
Kirby came toward me in a swish of robes, a platter of food in his hands. He looked good—tired and stressed, as they all did, but pretty much the same Kirby I’d seen before. I had made good on the favor I’d promised when I’d last seen him, delivering to his parents both his note and the marble he’d been carrying when he’d fallen through the elf gates. It had been one of the hardest things I’d ever done. I hated seeing the pain on their faces, imagining how I’d feel if it were someone I loved, long gone and presumed dead. Kirby met my eyes and gave a nearly unperceivable shake of his head. Here, at last, was someone on my side, someone I could trust. He could let Dar and my household know where I was, have them contact Wyatt, have Wyatt warn Gregory. I slumped in a relief I hadn’t felt in months.
“Just drag her behind the horses,” one of the elves mentioned. I started , realized they were debating my transportation.
Taullian pursed his lips. “She’d take injury and be unable to fix
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