She gritted her teeth and repeated her question. “Who are you?!”
Ellyesce shook his head, his expression pained. “You know who I am, Jahrra. I traveled with you and Jaax from Lidien. I taught you how to play Astral cards. In fact,” he turned to pull something out of a pocket hidden within his cloak, “I brought them over just in case you were awake and wanted to play a game or two.”
He presented the stack of worn cards to her but it felt like a slap in the face. The Astral cards. The very instruments he’d used to gain her trust. She had grown to like him, despite her misgivings, and had thought he liked her as well. He’d become another precious friend along this strange journey her life had become, and his constant company had been like a balm to her spirit. Now she just wanted to hit him for deceiving her and Jaax.
“No!” she snapped.
Ellyesce let the hand holding the cards drop slowly into his lap. He frowned and furrowed his brow, then took a breath and said, “You hit your head in the fight. Perhaps this is just a side effect of the concussion.”
He didn’t understand that she knew about his past. Very well. Jahrra pressed her hands into the mattress to keep herself upright. “I remember you,” she said in a quiet, harsh voice.
Once again, Ellyesce looked slightly perplexed. Then he grinned broadly, his pale green eyes lighting up. “You see. Just a result of the trauma from the other day.”
Jahrra didn’t smile. “No, I know who you really are, and you are no friend of mine. You may have tried to fool me, but I know about your past.”
Ellyesce’s smile vanished in a flash, and the brightness in his eyes evaporated. The elf that stared back at her looked almost lifeless, menacing even.
“Whatever do you mean?” he said in a deadly quiet voice.
“How can you call yourself our friend after what you’ve done? You know what Jaax and I are fighting for! You know he would never approve of your actions!” Jahrra shouted.
Ellyesce sat up straight, a modicum of life returning to his gaunt features.
“Perhaps you should tell me what it is you are accusing me of, Jahrra, before you jump to conclusions,” he demanded, his voice as brittle as ice.
“Slave trader!” she spat, no longer able to hold back. “I saw you in Edyadth when I was a young girl. It was a long time ago, but I remember your face, and your eyes! You looked right at me, then back at those poor people standing up on the seller’s block to be bartered away like cattle! Do not deny that you were there.”
Jahrra took a breath, then repeated, “I saw you!”
Ellyesce let out a long breath, then ran his hands through his hair. He looked almost relieved. “So, this is why you attack me?” he murmured, his eyes still pointed downward. Slowly, he glanced back at Jahrra, the remorse or defiance she expected to see in his features absent. “But why question me now? Why didn’t you accuse me on our first meeting?”
The elf slumped forward in his chair.
Jahrra bit her lip, then took another deep breath. “I had forgotten the memory until,” she paused, “until I dreamt it, just now.”
Ellyesce had placed his elbows on his knees, his fingers loosely laced in front of him. “Very well, then I shall answer for my sins and hope that the explanation I give will rekindle our friendship.” He cleared his throat, then said in a resigned voice, “Jahrra, you are correct. I was there, and I was purchasing slaves, but not for the reason you think.”
Jahrra opened her mouth to speak, but Ellyesce held up a hand. “No, let me finish. I purchased those people so I could grant them their freedom.”
Another memory rushed to the forefront of Jahrra’s mind, one of a discussion with a young Nesnan man she’d met long ago. Lahnehn, the same young man who’d helped her when she’d fallen from the canyon wall at Eydeth’s and Ellysian’s party, and who had aided her when she and Jaax first left Oescienne. He’d told her a story, about an unknown savior who’d come to his rescue, buying him off the slaver’s block and setting him free. Could it have been Ellyesce who’d given her old friend his freedom?
Jahrra let her shoulders relax. Of course it might’ve been, and furthermore, Jaax probably already knew all of this. Which meant Ellyesce wasn’t the one feeding information to the Red Flange, after all. She looked up, feeling very much ashamed of her reaction, but the elf did not appear offended. He gave her a grin, and she smiled back, her cheeks feeling warmer than usual.
“I’m sorry,” she mumbled. “Sometimes I don’t think things through before I speak my mind. And I guess I’m still a bit rattled from the attack.”
“All is forgiven, young lady.” Ellyesce smiled. “If you’ll forgive me. Had I known you were there at the auction so long ago, I would have explained myself shortly after we met.”
Jahrra gave a small laugh, wincing as her movement caused injury to her useless leg. She reached down to place a hand over the laceration on her calf, only to realize her entire lower leg was wrapped in a sturdy cloth.
“It keeps the stitches protected,” Ellyesce told her, when he noticed her surprise. “And will keep your knee stable so it will heal faster.”
Jahrra groaned. “How long do I have to wear it?”
Ellyesce’s mouth quirked up on one side. “For now, you need to keep it in place for as long as possible, a week or so. Then, we can wrap cloth tightly around your knee to keep it stabilized so you can start using crutches.”
Jahrra leaned against the pillows, her face falling. A week!? Weren’t they supposed to have left Cahrdyarein already? They couldn’t afford to linger for that long, not with the enemy gathering outside, ready to lay siege to the city any day now. They had to leave the city behind, for their safety and the safety of the citizens of Cahrdyarein as well.
“Jaax is going to kill me,” she eventually mumbled. “We were given a gift, time to leave before the Red Flange could overtake us, and now it’s been thrown away because of my stubbornness.” She took a deep, shaky breath, then added, “And Keiron has been captured as well, all because of me.”
“Keiron? Was he at the Round with you?” Ellyesce asked, becoming fully alert.
Jahrra nodded. “When I arrived, those assassins already had him. He got away from them just long enough to tell me to run, but it was too late by then.”
Emotion caught in Jahrra’s throat, but she fought it back. She looked up at Ellyesce, only to find the elf staring at her, his expression serious.
“What?” she asked.
“We thought Keiron orchestrated this whole thing,” he answered, his tone careful. “Considering he’s currently nowhere to be found.”
Jahrra’s fingers curled into fists. “That’s because he’s been kidnapped by the Tyrant’s men!” she cried. “Did Dervit not tell you?”
Ellyesce shook his head. “No. Although, come to think of it, he seemed rather anxious and reluctant to leave when I relieved him of his guard duty earlier. I shouldn’t have sent him off so hastily. I was irritated after spending the morning listening to Morivan brush aside our concerns as he insisted his son was merely playing a prank.”
Ellyesce gave a dry, humorless chuckle and rubbed his hands over his face. “I don’t know which is worse: playing audience to the regent’s insufferable, self-aggrandizing speeches, or waiting to hear Jaax’s teeth crack because he is doing everything in his power to keep from burning the Resai elf to a crisp.”
Jahrra groaned and let her head fall back against her pillow, covering her eyes with her forearm. “Now Jaax is going to roast me instead of out-right killing me.”