Page 6

Chapter five

Sifa

I Told You to Leave

K nut and Frida aren’t nearly careful enough.

I follow Frida out to the stables and then both of them to a nearby clearing. It takes us barely thirty minutes to reach it—far too close for a meeting they hope to be secret. And then they’re louder than they should be. Like they want to announce what they’re doing. Or they’re too arrogant and reckless to suspect they’d be followed. Whatever the reason, I’m happy to be able to get close enough to see and hear them well.

Troels doesn’t keep them waiting long. Within a few minutes of their arrival, a large man emerges from the trees. He stalks toward them, boots kicking branches out of his way as he glares with narrowed eyes at the pair. Maybe he doesn’t like being summoned to a meeting in the middle of the night.

“Why am I here?” he demands as soon as he gets close enough.

“We need to make other arrangements,” Frida explains, her generous chest thrusting out as she throws her shoulders back.

“No, we do not.” Troels stops only when he’s inches from Frida, his nose nearly close enough to touch hers. His lips are pressed together in a thin line. “You and Ulfhild will do what we ask of you. Whatever we ask.”

Frida doesn’t back down. Her chin holds firm as her gaze battles with his. “You want more than we can give without risking ourselves. Aksell must suspect something. Our girls are in danger every time they go to him.”

I’m not surprised to hear Aksell’s name. He’ll do anything—betray anyone—for money or power.

“It’s a risk we must take.” He pauses, inhaling deeply before he speaks again. This time, his voice is more measured, less demanding. “They plan something. If they succeed, it will destroy everything we’ve done. All that we’ve fought to achieve. We must find out what they’re doing and when.”

“But why us?” Frida probes, her tone less strident. “You must have someone else who can get this information. I think he suspects us. If one of my girls gets caught, you’ll lose all of us. And all our connections.”

“I don’t like it any more than you do.” He reaches out a hand to place it on Frida’s cheek, holding it there until she lifts her own hand to rest it on his. “I wouldn’t ask if it weren’t important. This is important.”

They stand like that for a long time, staring at each other. I see the moment she resigns herself to his request. Her shoulders slump a bit as she looks toward the ground. She holds that position for a few seconds, her chest moving in and out slowly. And then she looks up and smiles.

“You’ll owe us. So, so much.”

“We already owe you so much, Frida,” he says softly. “Should we send more men to guard the women?”

“We have enough. And if they do know, no amount of protection will save us. But we’re committed. We’ll do what we must.”

The briefest smile passes across his lips as he leans down to give her a gentle kiss. She responds with passion, one hand moving to entwine itself in his hair and pull him in closer. He doesn’t resist.

There’s such an interesting story here. I wish I could ask her about it .

“Thank you, Frida,” Troels says as he draws away from her.

“I never could resist you,” she responds. Stepping back, she squares her shoulders and glances at Knut. “You’ll tell us if you hear anything? Warn us if you learn we’re in danger?”

“Always.” Knut agrees. “You’ll be the first to hear of any threat to your girls.”

“I must return,” Troels interjects. “They suspect anyone who strays at night. And Fhord’s people are there, putting everyone on edge.” For the briefest moment, the tendons stand out on Troels’s neck, a pulse spiking in his veins. Then the mask returns.

“What games does he play now?” Frida asks, the tips of her lips curving up.

“The same ones as always,” Troels tells her. “He walks a fine line between the Kastali and the rest of us. I never know whose side he’s really on.”

“Not ours,” Frida says with a huff. “That’s all we need to know.”

“Never ours.” Troels glances at Knut. And then he turns and stalks back into the forest.

“Do you still trust him?” Knut’s whisper barely reaches my ears.

Frida turns to Knut with a sigh. “I don’t know. We played together as children. I sometimes think I know him better than myself. But the longer he spends in that place, the more I wonder if he still stands with us.”

“You’ll do as he asks, though?” Knut’s words emerge as a plea.

“Yes,” Frida’s laugh is light. Resigned. “We’ll keep trying with Aksell. And the others. We know how much it matters.”

“Good.” Knut turns to look in the direction of the house. “We should go.”

Frida nods, and they turn to walk back, more quickly than they came. I give them a few minutes before following. But I don’t go to my room. The library awaits. Hopefully it’s not still locked.

It is, but not with anything effective. A few flicks of my tools and the door opens. I walk in with a plan because I don’t have enough time to do a thorough search. I’ve realized the chaos may be intentional.

If I wanted to hide secrets—and Vanatia has lots of those—I’d do it exactly like this. Stacks of books with no apparent order. Only those who know where to look could find the texts that really matter. They would be high up, mixed with others that appear irrelevant. Out of reach to the casual reader.

I climb the rungs of the ladder and take a few minutes to inspect the books within reach. None are interesting but that’s no surprise. Nothing’s ever so easy. Dropping to the floor, I tug on the ladder, which squeaks when I pull it over. My fingers freeze as my stomach flips. Pausing, I wait for someone to appear at the unexpected noise. Nobody does.

The next time, I move as slowly as I can. It takes nearly a minute to shift the ladder a half-dozen feet. It was worth it, I see as I reach the top shelf, and my gaze lands on the first helpful book I’ve found—but not for Bevin or Ulfhild. This one’s for me. It’s about elves and maybe will finally explain why I’d be imprisoned if anyone learned what I am.

My steps are even lighter now than before. Breaking in here was bad enough. If anyone finds me reading this book, I’ll be killed even if they attribute it to curiosity. If I could, I’d sink into a chair in a corner, hide in the shadows. But I need light to read, so I choose the most visible spot in the library, right where the moon’s glow falls through the window. I feel exposed, like I’ve lifted my skirts to bare myself to anyone who happens in.

My heart pounds the entire time I sit there, but I finally get some answers. I’ve wondered since I arrived if my power here was unique, or perhaps part of the explanation for the elves’ banishment. And now I know. If this text is true to history, elves once lived freely in this land. They sat on the ruling council and played important roles in governing. Because they were powerful, like me.

I skim through the hundred or so pages, reading stories of elves who helped build this country. Males and females found their spots in Vanatia’s history, many for their relationships with dragons. They seemed to be closer to those massive beasts than others. Whoever penned these stories believed elves were more attuned to hatchlings and that they’d been key to earning the Thunder’s trust.

My stomach sinks as I reach the end without any news of what happened. Why elves became enemies to Vanatia’s leaders. Why so few elves have been born since they all were imprisoned. Why they spend their lives in labor camps, never allowed to know or see anything else.

If I can answer those questions, maybe I’ll figure out what drew me here, and how Toffer and I can get back home.

Sighing, I tiptoe toward the ladder to return the book. Before I can, though, I feel him. The strange male that triggers intense emotions is in this estate, stalking closer. My stomach flips as fate seems to tower in front of me, drawing us together for the third time in less than a week. It feels intentional, like the gods have intervened to ignite this weird connection.

The knob twists, and the door swings open. He’s dressed nearly the same as before—a dark tunic with black leggings tucked into leather boots, also black. But he’s left a few of the buttons on his shirt undone, revealing part of what looks to be a golden dragon etched on his broad chest. It takes all my willpower to drag my gaze up to his face. Green eyes stare at me, bright with an anger that looks ready to rip out of him.

“Why are you here?” His voice is low, dangerous.

“Why are you here? Are you following me?” I force my tone to be as threatening as his. I won’t let him think he can intimidate me.

He scoffs, his gaze flitting down my body and then back up. “You have nothing that interests me.” His words are cold, dripping with spite, even as his pupils expand, exposing his lie. “This room is forbidden. If they find you here, they’ll feed you to the dragons. The Thunder isn’t allowed humans nearly as much as they’d like. You’d be a tasty treat.”

“Or perhaps it’s you they’ll feed to those beasts.”

Now he sneers, his lips quirking his disdain. “My dragon wouldn’t tolerate it.” He shifts to the side, extending his arm toward the hall. “Leave this place. You’re not safe here, and you’re a fool for not realizing it. Don’t come back.”

“I’m exactly where I should be,” I snarl at him. “I’ll leave when I’m ready.”

He stands in silence, arm still pointing my way out, thin lips and a straight back exuding frustration. I hate to give in, but the longer we stand here, the more likely we are to be found. Finally, I realize I have no choice and stalk toward him.

“Leave me alone,” I warn as I step through the doorway.

“Stay the fuck away from me and I will.” His words are clipped, angry. “The book,” he adds as I turn away.

Gah . He has me so flustered, I didn’t even realize I still had it. “Fine,” I respond, spinning around to shove it into his hands. I shouldn’t let him know I was reading this book , but I have no choice. And for some inexplicable reason, I’m sure he won’t expose me. Spinning again, I set my shoulders and stride away. I never look back. Even though I desperately want to.

After tossing and turning most of the night—my dreams taking me back to the cave I found myself in when I came to Vanatia and the weeks that followed trapped in the dungeons below the northern Nest—I give up on sleep just after dawn. Even if I can’t go back to the library, this house holds other possibilities. Maybe the chef’s a gossip.

She isn’t. She’s happy for the company as she starts fires and begins to pull out ingredients for bread. She’s even willing to put me to work and chat while we knead dough together. The conversation, though, never strays far from the benign and meaningless. We talk about the weather, the fruits and vegetables available now, and those she misses the most. She shares stories of her children and asks if I have a lover.

That’s it. Never once does this talkative woman stray into forbidden subjects. And maybe that’s why she’s here. In a place that values secrecy above all else, those who can keep secrets have tremendous value.

That’s what I find with everyone today. Not a single person gives me a bit of useful information. By the end of the day, I’m frustrated and grumpy. And ready to go home. This has been a wasted trip.

After bathing and dressing quickly, I sit down to prepare myself for the repellant Frida gave me last night. I know what to expect when I remove the cork from the elixir, but I’m still startled. I sit still, breathing slowly as I let my senses work through the onslaught. Finally, long minutes after applying it to my neck and wrists, I’m ready to join the festivities.

Tonight feels much like last night. Many of the same people appear, most choosing different bedmates to circle. As they did yesterday, the truly powerful people in the room share couches with Ulfhild’s girls. They drink and enjoy a passing bite of food while they wait. And then the same bedmate rises to draw her consort away. Others stand and do the same. Nobody comes near me.

Until he arrives. I sense him as he approaches the front door, my emotions waffling between anxiety and excitement at his presence. I force them to settle down. It’ll require all my concentration to understand what’s going on. Taking a deep breath, I release the firm hold I always keep on my mind.

I learned to control my wandering psyche within a few weeks of landing here. At first, I welcomed the escape. It let me slip away from the room they kept me in, the things they did to me. It let me see into people in a way I couldn’t in my worlds. It’s what eventually helped me escape.

Too often, though, I came back to a body barely clinging to life. When I wasn’t there, I couldn’t use what little power I possessed in those caves to intimidate and repel my tormentors. I realized I needed to be present and interact with them, or they would go too far. So I forced myself to stay put. Endure the pain. Until I found a way out.

In the years that followed, I taught myself how to send out my thoughts and call them back reliably. I even discovered how to maintain the barest hold on my physical form, alerting me if I needed to return quickly. I can do this without much risk now. So I do.

It isn’t hard to find him. His presence calls to me like a beacon. My mind goes directly to the front door where he stands. I’m breathless, even as my heart decides it’s running a marathon.

But that’s as far as I can go. For the first time since I started reaching out to other people, my spirit hits a wall. I feel his presence but nothing else. I can’t see into him at all or sense a single emotion. Not even the hint of a thought.

That’s never happened before. Always, I can at least grasp the vibrations that every being emits. It lets me understand them, catch hints of what they’re feeling and thinking. Even with him once before, I knew he was angry when he approached in the forest. Not tonight. He’s an enigma. Impenetrable.

Reeling my mind back in, I take another deep breath and wait. He’s coming this way. He’ll find me.

Once again, his gaze lands on mine almost immediately. I can see his smirk from across the room. He’s amused by my solitary presence in a corner. The room parts for him as he strides directly toward me. And I struggle to control my beating heart, the breathing that grows faster with every step he takes.

He seems to feel it too. Even from here, I can see his pupils dilate as he approaches me. But he can’t avoid the elixir any more than the others. He slows as he gets closer, drawing to a complete stop a few feet away. The arrogance in his face drops away, replaced by confusion.

“Why do you,” he pauses as his nose wrinkles, his lips twisting into a look of disgust, “stink?”

“Girl problems,” I tell him with the most saccharine smile I can muster. “You wouldn’t understand.”

He watches me for a moment, his eyes watering a bit from the aroma he can’t avoid. Finally, he speaks again. “I told you to leave.”

“It may have slipped your notice, but we do not stand in a forest. Or a library. I left. But not because you told me to.”

“You know what I meant. You shouldn’t be in the Nest.”

“Next time, be more precise. Or better yet, don’t say anything. I’m not yours to command.”

He snarls at me—literally snarls—his eyes somehow growing even more narrow. Still, I can see the fire in them. I incite the same emotions in him that he does in me.

“You’d be wise to listen to me, but maybe you’re as foolish as you seem.” He takes one step toward me, lowering his voice. “You don’t belong here. They’ll catch you if you stay.”

I sigh, forcing my tongue to drip boredom. “Perhaps you could use a distraction.” Lifting my arm, I wave toward a few of the couches. “They may be able to give you the attention you seem to need. Go bother one of them.” And then I smile, my eyes twinkling. “But they go by rank here. You could be waiting a while for your turn.”

His hands clench as his jaw tightens. I can almost hear teeth grinding. “So fucking dangerous,” he breathes, almost to himself. He inhales again and then exhales slowly before biting out his next words. “I will not tell you again. The Dróttning comes. She’ll detect your presence, and she’ll kill all of you. The others will die for bringing you here. If you somehow manage to escape, you’ll never know peace again. Once she realizes you live in Revalle, she won’t rest until you’re found and captured.”

The strange man snarls one more time, as if for good measure, and then turns on his heel. He stalks out, a handful of soldiers gathering behind him to follow.

I ignore the intense emotions vibrating through me—a heady desire combined with an aversion so deep it seems unnatural. As if fate is fucking with me.

None of that matters. The Dróttning is coming. We can’t be here when she arrives.

It takes nearly ten minutes to find Frida. She’s in the furthest room, entertaining a woman whose squeals should have drawn me here in the first place. I don’t bother knocking—nobody cares who sees what—and almost laugh out loud at the scene.

Frida’s partner is thin as a reed. I can’t see a bit of fat on her body. Even her tits are tiny, as if the gods had little material left when they made her. It’s good she isn’t standing, I think, because her legs appear incapable of holding her up.

But her pussy has swallowed the biggest dildo I’ve ever seen.

It’s fully inserted when the door swings open and—because they’re too distracted to notice me—I watch in amazement as Frida pulls it out, her tongue reaching in to take its place for a few seconds, and then shoves it back in. The woman squeals again, legs that are thinner than the beast in Frida’s hand lifting her ass as she tries to take in more of it.

This girl is very happy with her chosen bedmate. I hate to interrupt her pleasure, but we need to go.

“Frida,” I whisper as I stride forward.

The woman’s eyes widen, but she doesn’t move at all. Her butt is still suspended a foot above the bed, the dildo stuck in place. “Oooh, a surprise.” She licks her lips as she looks down at Frida, who’s gone still. “You don’t need to stop. She can join us. Maybe I can watch you two when we’re done.”

“I’m not here to play,” I respond with a smile, “although it looks like you’re having fun.”

“So, so much fun,” she agrees, wiggling her hips a little to get Frida’s attention, or maybe just to restore the friction she was enjoying a moment ago. “And we’re not done. If you’re not here to strip naked and drop onto this bed, go away.” Now I can see the soldier in her. She’s accustomed to people following her commands.

“She needs to come with me,” I explain as I stride forward and reach out for Frida.

Before I can touch her, a hand snakes out and takes my wrist. And then she smells me.

Her lips twist, the ends dropping like rocks, as her eyes start to water. She spins her head to glare at Frida and then turns that haughty, hateful stare on me.

“You’re making a mistake. I’ve taken lives for less. Get the fuck out of this room, or your scent will be the least repulsive thing about you.”

“Let me finish, Sifa,” Frida urges, her eyes pleading with me, even as she tries to hold back her own tears. “I won’t be long.”

“You’ll be as long as I need you to be,” the woman demands.

I nod once and turn to return to the hall. In almost no time, the woman’s shrieking again, her cries escalating quickly. She ends with a few moans and then a whimper, whispering something I can’t catch when she’s done. Less than a minute later, she stomps out the door, glaring at me as one hand rises to cover her nose.

“Frida promises she didn’t, but I know she rushed me. You’re lucky she gave me such a good orgasm. I’ve killed people for less.”

I watch as she marches away, fully a soldier again.

“You are lucky, you know,” Frida murmurs. “She’s very powerful. You’d be dead if she ordered it.”

“I’m sorry to interrupt. I saw the man from the forest. I think he came to warn us. The Dróttning is coming here. We need to leave.”

“You’re wrong,” Frida insists, resting her hands on her hips. “Knut would have told me if she was coming.”

“I only know what he told me. I don’t think he’s lying.”

“I’ll check with Knut, but if you’re right, we need to go. Get the others. Tell them to be ready. I’ll have our mounts prepared if Knut thinks it’s possible.”

I glance down the hall and then back at Frida, a question in my eyes.

“Start there,” she relents with a sigh, pointing to a door. “He probably came in the first few minutes and is spending the rest of his time cuddling. She can help you gather the girls.”

“Good. We’ll pack and meet you at the stables.”

Frida’s afraid. Leaving at night will be dangerous.

But not as dangerous as staying if the Dróttning comes.