Long Live the Elf Queen: The Elf Queen Book 2
Long Live the Elf Queen: Chapter 7

Fire crackled in the great stone hearth that connected Layala’s room to Thane’s. Or what was once Thane’s room. It smelled of cedar and light smoke even if most of it went up into the chimney. She hadn’t dared open the stone wall until she had the cover of darkness and a slumbering castle. The stars twinkled outside her window and crickets chirped merrily. She rose out of the soft bed, her heart beating faster with each step.

Layala took in a deep breath and pressed her hand on the white stone mantel over the fire. It was warm enough in this room a fire wasn’t needed, but after many freezing nights in the tower, she’d insisted it be lit. Sweating was better than shivering.

Feeling along the top, the smooth stone had no blemishes. Was there a button or lever to open this thing? She dragged her hand along both sides and then stood with her arms folded, inspecting it. It looked ordinary, beautiful, and ornate with crown molding, but there didn’t appear to be any tricky switches. Did it only open from Thane’s side? She grumbled and paced the room. The food from dinner gave her energy she hadn’t had in weeks even though her swollen lip and hand throbbed from Tenebris’s abuse.

Her gaze kept drifting to the mantel and then she froze. The fire pokers. There were three of them. More than necessary. With her breath quickening, she hurried across the room and wrapped her palm around the middle one. It pulled free. She grabbed the left, and it too came loose. Damn. Maybe she’d been wrong. She grabbed the right and tugged. It didn’t come free. She pushed it back and the grinding of stone made her smile. The stone wall turned ninety degrees, leaving an opening on either side of the fire.

A masculine fragrance that smelled of forests and rivers and the wild hit her. Her throat tightened uncomfortably. The room smelled like him. She wrapped her arms around herself, and tears stung her eyes. She crawled onto the bed, pulling the soft fabric of his pillow to her nose, and inhaled deeply. Maker above, she missed him. She lay down, pulling the blankets up to her neck and tears spilled down her face until she had no more.

She rolled over and peered at the sheer white curtains over the glass doors. Could she slip off Thane’s balcony and get away? If she managed to get to the ground, there was still the matter of getting past guards and over the bridge. But if she found a way to escape, would Tenebris kill Piper, Fennan, Reina and Pearl? The guilt already nudged at her insides.

After basking in Thane’s scent for a while and relaxing on his bed, she got up and wandered the room. Her feet quietly padded on the cool stone floor as she made her way to the large nine-drawer dresser. Running her fingers over the ivy etching, she smiled at the candlestick set on top. She’d once thrown it at Thane in her failed attempt to murder him. Maker, that seemed like a lifetime ago. A corner of a piece of parchment stuck out from his top-right drawer. What is that? Curiosity getting the better of her, she tugged it loose. It was folded into a square. Should she peek at his private things?

Her fingers deftly peeled the edge back, and she opened it. She spread it out fully on the top of the white dresser and a chill rolled over her skin. It was a charcoal sketch of—her. Capturing her solemn elven features perfectly, wide eyes lined with thick lashes, black hair spilling all around her like a mass of waves. She looked so sad. Was this how she was perceived? When had Thane drawn this? On the bottom in a charming scrawl, it read: the maiden in my dreams.

“I’m going to replace you, Thane,” she whispered, choking on a sob.

The fireplace scraped and churned and Layala jumped. She looked about the room frantically for a place to hide, and shoved the drawing into the dresser. She slowly backed up, her pulse drumming in her throat. It was too late to go for cover now.

Soft brown curls and a beautiful blue gown came through. Talon looked left then right and found Layala. “You need to go. Now.” She jerked the fireplace closed and her heels tapped loudly, and her dress swished with each step as she marched for Layala. She held a glass bottle in her hand. “Here, drink this. It should give you enough energy to escape.”

“What’s going on?” Layala asked, pressing her back into the wall. She kept her hands at her sides, rather than take the bottle. She didn’t trust Talon. This was the princess who lured her into the woods to be skewered with an arrow after all.

“You’ll have to go out the window. Stay in the shadows. I’ll try to stall him.” Talon grabbed Layala’s uninjured hand and shoved the bottle of light-blue liquid into it. “Come on. Hurry.”

Layala shook her head. “I can’t leave. What if your father kills Piper and Fennan?”

“He won’t…” her wide green eyes showed real fear as if she hadn’t thought about that. “He’ll—He’ll keep them as leverage for now.” She glanced warily at the door. “I’m not as big of a fool as my father and Aldrich think I am. Oh, I might play the part well, but I know that wasn’t exactly what happened. Thane wouldn’t just walk away.” She took a deep breath. “And right now, my real brother is hurting, and he needs you. You’re a mage. You can help him. I heard that creepy lady talking about how she shoved her—hand through him. I know he can heal fast but—” she cupped her mouth, and a tear ran down her cheek. “Oh, Maker above, what if he’s dead? What if it’s too late? If he was alive, he’d be here to get you. I know he would.”

“He sent me a note. I don’t know why he hasn’t come but I believe he’s alive,” Layala said even though she wasn’t entirely sure, but she had to believe. “Do you have any idea where he is? Or where he might hide? Your father’s entire army will be searching for him.”

She slowly shook her head. “I can’t believe this is happening,” Talon cried, pushing her hands into her hair. “My father has one of them here. Here inside my home. He’s trying to hide it, but I saw him.” She started to pace, her breath coming faster and faster. “My father is a bloody traitor and so is Aldrich.”

There was much Talon didn’t know. It would take too long to explain. Three loud knocks interrupted the silence. It took her a moment to realize it came from her room.

“Open the door! We’re leaving!” She knew that malevolent voice too well for not having heard it much. King Tenebris was in the corridor with a host of guards no doubt.

“Leaving?” Panicky sweat prickled on her back. “Leaving where?”

“To the pale ones,” Talon whispered. “All these years he’s claimed he wanted to replace you to destroy the Void but—but I think he means to sacrifice you to them somehow.”

Sacrifice me? Holy shit. Maybe that was why they wouldn’t say how she could bring the Black Mage back. What if they had to sacrifice her life for his… “He doesn’t want to destroy the Void. He—”

Another jarring knock. “Open the door this instant or I’ll have it kicked down. You won’t like what I do next.”

“Go,” Talon hissed, and shoved Layala. She bumped into one of the large wooden posts on Thane’s bed then turned, tucked the small bottle to her chest, and ran. Throwing open the doors to a burst of cool night air, billowed her hair like stalks of wheat. Once at the balcony’s stone edge, she pulled the stopper on the bottle and drained it in two big gulps. The fizzy liquid burned her eyes and nose, but the effects trickled out from her chest to her limbs with a zing of energy and strength. Even her mind was sharper. She gripped the stone railing and peered down. This was the second story; she could make it.

Quiet voices drifted up. Guards. She ducked and caught sight of a tall tree to the right. It was a luminor with star-shaped blue-and-silver-tipped leaves, its branches strong. Clouds covered the moon, blanketing the castle grounds in darkness. She said a silent “thank you” to the Maker for the coverage and climbed up on the balcony’s edge. In a crouch, she held on as a gust of wind wobbled her. She cursed herself for not changing out of her dress. The heavy fabric around her legs would make this difficult. The tree was five—six feet away, but there was a branch she could grip; all she had to do was jump.

Loud booms and wood cracked as the door was kicked in. “Where is she?!” Tenebris roared. “Find her now!”

Layala took a deep breath. One. Two… She pushed off and leapt, flying through the night air. Wrapping her hands around the branch, it bowed under her weight. She almost yelped at the stinging of her injured hand. The healing balm hadn’t had enough time to work properly and with broken bones it might take days. She breathed through the pain and murmured to the branch, “If you snap, I swear…” Shimming sideways, she cursed Tenebris for crushing her hand every inch of the way, and quietly climbed down. Kneeling with one knee in the damp grass, hidden among the shadows behind the overgrown, thick bushes, she watched a pair of guards walk by, oblivious to her presence. The brick path leading around the castle was clear both ways. Ahead there was a large blooming poplar tree surrounded by round green shrubbery. There was a massive open space between that and the horse stables, the only other place to hide. The bridge over the river was at least half a mile from here. Steeling her breath, she lifted the bottom fabric of her dress and took off. Just as she crossed the path, the doors to Thane’s balcony crashed open. Layala glanced back. King Tenebris and a host of guards flooded onto the terrace.

“Stop her! Sound the alarm! Do not let her cross that bridge!”

There was no point in hiding now. Her legs and lungs burned with the effort as she ran like the galloping horses in the fields. Her eyes watered with the force of the wind. Heavy, armored footsteps thudded to the left. She veered to miss the guard as he reached out. He grasped the bottom of her dress and yanked. Layala pitched forward and crashed onto her hands and knees. “You bastard,” she spit and rolled. He stood over her and she shoved her foot into his belly, sending him flying back onto his ass.

Jumping up, Layala ran. “I swear I will never wear a dress again after this,” she mumbled, sprinting alongside the horse stable and pasture. On the other side of the fence, a huge black horse with a white star on his forehead fell into pace alongside her. His hooves pounded against the ground. “Midnight!” she sang. Another horse joined at his side. “Phantom!” They’re both here!

She glanced back; seven guards were hot on her heels. Pumping her arms and legs harder, she set her sights on the bridge. Three guards were at the entrance, but two of them leaned against the stone arch with their backs to her and one was lying on the ground. If the king saw him, it would be “off with his head”.

Layala smiled at the two horses when the fence came to an end, vowing to come back for them. But a loud crash and wood splintering made her jump. Phantom and Midnight broke through and raced up on either side of her. Taking the risk, she leapt and barely made it onto Midnight’s back, and swung her leg over. She grinned and a euphoric feeling swelled in her chest. I’m going to make it!

The guards behind her yelled obscenities and commands. The trio at the bridge finally took notice of the commotion and drew their weapons. She nudged Midnight’s sides; they couldn’t stop now. She’d seen Phantom run elves and pale ones down. That’s the kind of energy she needed.

Clinking metal like the sound of a chain being dragged over rocks dropped her stomach. No. The lowering spiked gate was closing off her escape. Hot tears welled up. No! She had to get away. She must get to Thane. The gate slammed to the ground and Midnight reared up, neighing as guards surrounded them. Phantom nickered loudly and slammed his shoulder into a guard before coming to a stop. “Curse this king, curse this place!”

Layala slid down and ran to the cliff’s edge. It was fifty feet, maybe more, to the river below and high cliffs on both sides. The waterfall roared like white thunder clouds and sprays of mist hit her face with the breeze coming up.

“Step away from the edge, Lady Lightbringer,” a guard said, palms up like he was surrendering.

Could she survive the fall and swim in these currents? Where was the land low enough she could climb out? She looked to the other side, desperately hoping to see Thane in the shadows. Please, Thane, please. He’d come before when she was in trouble; was he there now? “Thane!” she cried searching the swaying grass on the other side. Please be here. The longer she looked the heavier the pit in her stomach grew. She glanced over her shoulder to replace King Tenebris and at least fifteen guards closed in. No one was within arm’s reach, but they inched closer.

“Lady Lightbringer, we’re not going to hurt you. Please step back.”

She moved closer to the edge, rocks and crumbling earth dropped. Her stomach whirled taking in the distance. Risk the fall and water or go back to the evil king? With shaking hands, she took another step forward, more dirt and rocks spilled off the cliff’s edge. Jump! She sucked in a deep breath and tipped forward. She expected to feel wind rushing all around, hear her own scream, as she plummeted into the icy waters below but instead, fingers dug at her scalp and with a fistful of her hair, she was wrenched backward. Clawing at the person’s hand she tried to turn but he had such a close grip she couldn’t, until the gap between her and the edge was filled by soldiers. She was so close to freedom, to being able to search for Thane. The hold released and she turned to Aldrich. That bastard! Rage shook her entire being. His apologetic frown enraged her further. She clawed at his face with a scream that burned her throat. Guards grabbed her from the sides, holding her back from reaching him. “Let me go!” she seethed, kicking and jerking, sounding more like a wild cat than an elf.

One of the guards squeezed her injured left hand, grinding the already fractured bones. She bit down to keep from yelling out in pain. “Enough,” he said.

“Pig,” she murmured to the guard. “Only a low-life prick would use an injury against someone. I’ll remember your face when I am queen.”

The guard’s smug expression paled, and he released her hand.

“Good boy,” Layala said.

With his hands casually behind his back, Aldrich shook his head. “I couldn’t let you jump,” he said, full of bravado in front of his father. “You could have killed yourself. What were you thinking?”

Tenebris stepped in front of him, his long blond hair moving in the breeze. He lifted his chin, and the gold crown he always wore glittered in the moonlight. If he wasn’t such a sick bastard, one could call him handsome. The evil smile on his face reminded her of a pale one moments before the kill. “You are a foolish girl. And you need to be taught a lesson, so you won’t try anything like this again.”

Layala straightened her spine. She’d take his blow and wouldn’t go down this time no matter how hard he struck her. He wouldn’t get the satisfaction of that.

The guards at her sides shifted apprehensively and glanced back and forth between each other. Tenebris raised a hand and curled his fingers. There was something cruel and sadistic in his expression that made her stomach clench.

“Clear the way,” someone shouted from the back.

The host of guards parted to let in a pair of soldiers, and in between them walked Reina. Her normally tight bun on top of her head was loose and disheveled. Her deep-brown eyes searched the faces all around her but stopped on Layala. Her chin trembled and her cheeks glistened with tears. The two guards grasped her upper arms tightly, keeping her trapped between them.

Stomach dropping, Layala looked to the king, ready to plead for her maid’s life. Reina warned her this could happen. If he suspected Reina or Pearl’s involvement in her attempted escape, he’d execute them. Struggling against the guards’ hold, Layala said, “Wait, wait, this isn’t her fault. It’s mine. She didn’t know.”

Tenebris walked up to Reina. The glint of metal in his hand shone in the pale starlight, making Layala more frantic. “She has a child! Please don’t! Please!”

He dragged a blade across her throat. A thin line of scarlet erupted and poured down her neck, spilling onto her chest. Layala gasped, blinking several times in disbelief, unable to accept what was happening before her very eyes. Reina choked on her own blood; the sound of it bubbling up and out of her mouth made Layala want to vomit. The red liquid dribbled over her chin dripping onto her dress. This couldn’t be happening. This couldn’t be real. It was a delusion, a nightmare.

“Reina, no,” she whispered, and gulped down the rising bile. Who would take care of that little boy if she was gone? She must hurry and put her hand over Reina’s throat to stop the bleeding. But within moments, Reina’s face was colorless, her head lolled to the side, and her body sagged in the arms of the guards.

The booming in Layala’s ears from the rush of her blood drowned out the king’s voice. His mouth moved yet she heard nothing he said. But the sneer on his face, the arrogant smirk—Layala kicked her leg out, dropping the soldier next to her, and slammed her elbow into the nose of the other and ripped the dagger from his waist.

“My blade!” he shouted. Another soldier moved in her path, reaching out to grab her. She slashed at him. He threw up his forearms to block her strike and she dragged the dagger’s sharp edge across them and shoved her foot into his belly, sending him flying back. All she saw was Tenebris, the bastard who needed to die. He deserved to suffer and plead for his life, but she would have to make this quick. He slowly backed into guards, grabbing several to push in front of him.

“I need her alive.”

Coward. She moved through them, stabbing and kicking and slicing. Ducking under blows and blades, taking them down with speed and precision. She didn’t think; she moved like a storm taking down all in her wake. She thought all elves could move as quickly as her, but they were seconds behind her. Until a string of bodies lay behind her and she was in front of the coward king, his eyes wide with terror. With a roar like a wild beast that belonged in the cursed forest, she swung down at him. Aiming for the soft flesh between his neck and shoulder.

“Stay that weapon, Layala!” Mathekis’s command washed over her, freezing her muscles. The blade stopped a breath away from landing. His power pulsed through her, like her skin throbbed and invisible talons groped her flesh, pulling her back. No! He wouldn’t take this moment from her. The one thing she’d wanted since she was a child, her sole obsession. She grunted, pushing with all her might, her arm shook with the effort, but her body wouldn’t cooperate. Her gaze flicked to Mathekis, who stood among the soldiers, partially hidden under his hood but the strain on his face was noticeable. Was it only a battle of wills?

Tenebris smiled wickedly, the huge grin of a mad elf, and he started laughing. A dark, mocking chuckle.

“Now step away from the king,” Mathekis commanded.

“No,” she said through clenched teeth, muscles straining once more to force the strike. She broke through his persuasion and hacked down as Tenebris backed away. The blade slid across his tunic, but she didn’t puncture his flesh. Several guards grabbed her arms and around the waist, and no matter how she jerked and kicked, she couldn’t break free.

“You might be a warrior, Layala but you’re no match for Mathekis’s power,” Tenebris said.

“You’re dead already,” Layala growled. “You just don’t know it yet.”