“No ... not do this,” she shouted, her words broken in a language she couldn’t speak well.
Leesil jerked free and pushed Leanâlhâm back as Magiere hobbled into the intersection, with Osha still determined to help her. When Leanâlhâm saw Magiere, her eyes widened at the sight of the embedded arrow in Magiere’s thigh. Her cheeks were covered in tears, and she lunged, grabbing the front of Magiere’s studded hauberk.
“Make ... them stop!” she cried.
Magiere still didn’t know what was going on, but if Chap was angry and Leesil backed him up, Chap had good reason. She pulled out of Osha’s grip and shoved Leanâlhâm behind her as the tall man stepped out of the cutway’s far half.
He held anmaglâhk blades again, but he brushed off his hood with the back of one hand.
“Please,” Leanâlhâm whispered, as she grabbed Magiere’s sword arm.
But all Magiere could do was stare.
By the jostled lantern’s light, four old scars ran at a slant across the tall elf’s deeply tanned forehead. They cut through his right, feathery blond eyebrow, skipped over his hard amber eye, and continued at his cheekbone to disappear beneath the black cloth over his nose and mouth. His long, coarse hair was streaked with gray a tint darker than his people’s natural white blond.
Magiere didn’t need to see the rest of his face to know him. His full Elvish name was too difficult to pronounce, and she’d taken to calling him by a shortened version.
The sight of Brot’an, here in this city on another continent, was too much to take in after all that had happened this night. Brot’an ignored Leesil and Chap’s threats and fixed only on Magiere.
She was still at a loss, and she was weakening under Leanâlhâm’s weight pulling down her sword arm. The tears on the girl’s cheeks had begun to dry, but her face was stained by pure fright. Why would Brot’an bring Osha, let alone Leanâlhâm, this far across the world?
Magiere had once made a promise to an anmaglâhk who’d been their guardian. She’d sworn to Sgäile, Leanâlhâm’s “uncle,” that whenever possible she would protect his quarter-blood niece. Sgäile had later sacrificed himself to guard Magiere and those with her. And here was Brot’an, one of less than a handful of shadow-grippers left in the world, a master among the Anmaglâhk.
Magiere forgot about everything but Leanâlhâm; the girl would not see more bloodshed tonight.
“Chap, stop it!” she demanded, and then louder. “Leesil, you back off!”
Chapter 7
EVEN AFTER MAGIERE’S demand, Chap couldn’t control his anger once Brot’an—Brot’ân’duivé, the Dog in the Dark—pulled down the black scarf and revealed his face. All Chap could think of was the master anmaglâhk’s treachery.
Brot’an had manipulated Leesil into assassinating Lord Darmouth in order to start a war among the human provinces of that warlord’s region.
Brot’an had acted as Magiere’s defense counsel in her trial before the an’Cróan’s council of elders, but only in his effort to discredit and undermine Most Aged Father, the ancient leader of the Anmaglâhk.
Brot’an did nothing, helped no one, unless it furthered his own agenda.
What was he doing here, half a world away from his homeland and apparently at odds with his own caste? The possibilities kept Chap’s hackles raised, but try as he might, he could not dip a single rising memory in the master anmaglâhk’s mind. It was as if this butcher, as Leesil had so rightly said, was not truly standing there. And the more Brot’an stared at Magiere, the more Chap wanted to add more scars to the elder elf’s face.
But Chap still needed to understand what was going on, for nothing here made sense.
The group of anmaglâhk who had ambushed them had opted for a frontal attack—not their usual way. They clearly wanted Magiere alive, and Chap could only guess that they wanted to know more about what she had taken from the ice-bound castle. But only one of four anmaglâhk who had followed them to that place had escaped to return home.
Now an entire group had come after Magiere across half a world.
Brot’an waged war subtly, and since he had just “saved” Magiere again, Chap could think of no way to show her otherwise. She might not fully trust the elder anmaglâhk, but she had a blind spot when it came to him. In addition, aside from Osha, the sight of young Leanâlhâm was startling. What could have possessed Brot’an to bring a young quarter-human girl into his scheme?
Chap backed up into the crossing alley, bumping against Leesil behind him. Brot’an remained at the cutway’s mouth into the crossing alley. Chap turned sideways and peered around Leesil’s legs to where Leanâlhâm clung to Magiere. But when he reached for rising memories within the girl, he found nothing. Likely her conscious thoughts were too filled with the moment to let anything else rise. Osha, staring with concern from behind Magiere, offered nothing better than the girl. All Chap caught from the young man were flashes of the long journey back to Miiska after the first orb had been recovered.
And why were neither Brot’an nor Osha dressed as anmaglâhk? Even while spying on enemies, they always wore their identical garb. For that matter, where were Osha’s stilettos?
“What do you want this time?” Leesil nearly spat at Brot’an. “Who dies in this city to start another of your wars?”
Chap turned his attention upon the elder elf. Brot’an did not answer, and his gaze dropped slightly, as if he finally looked at something other than Magiere’s face. Chap did not turn to see what, keeping his focus on Brot’an and waiting for some memory to slip out.
Brot’an’s gaze rose as he commanded in Elvish, “Get them into hiding and tend her wound. I will make certain we are not followed.”
Unable to stop himself, Chap swung around, searching for the target of these orders.
Osha was looking directly at the shadow-gripper, but his eyes held no awe for the legendary elder of his caste. This, too, appeared odd. The last time Chap had seen Osha, the young elf had nearly worshipped Brot’an.
Osha took a slow breath through his nose and let it out in the same way, as if trying to calm some inner turmoil. Or was it resentment? A fleeting memory rose in the young elf’s consciousness, and Chap seized it.
A dark cavern, but the air was so hot Osha fought to breathe. A far precipice glowed with red flickering from below it, and the silhouette of a small, spindly form crouched before the edge of the great depths. Between it and Osha, on the blackened stone, lay a sword without a hilt. Red light reflected off its white metal, shimmering in the dark.
The memory vanished as quickly as it had come. Osha nodded once, finally acknowledging Brot’an.
Chap grew even more wary. For the first time, he noticed an odd, long, and narrow bundle of dark cloth protruding above Osha’s right shoulder, next to the young elf’s quiver. It was held in place by a cord running along the same path as the quiver’s strap across his chest. But such a minor curiosity had to wait.
Osha stood close behind Magiere, and when he finally looked her way, Chap saw a hint of Osha’s old innocence and purity resurface. Osha’s long-featured face softened as he moved in on Magiere’s side and softly grasped her other arm, like Leanâlhâm.
Magiere wouldn’t move and kept her eyes on the girl. When she finally did glance away, it was to Brot’an, and her gaze hardened.
“What is Leanâlhâm doing here?” Magiere demanded.
A good question, though not the first one Chap wanted answered. He did note that Leanâlhâm cringed strangely at the sound of her own name. The reaction vanished as Magiere’s balance faltered, and the girl’s grip tightened, the lantern jostling, as she tried to use both hands.