“You and I are more alike than you might care to admit,” she said. “We may not be compatible in all of the ways that would make things interesting, but we do share a craving for power and its uses. You would rule the Children of the Hawk and through them, your people. I would rule the Elves. Both of us will not hesitate to remove any obstacles that stand in our way. Both of us use subterfuge, deception, and cunning to advance our interests. Other people are of no importance except insofar as they can help us achieve our goals. I do not fool myself that anything I seek is done with a righteous and noble mind-set. I do not pretend at being honorable or considerate in any way. I was poor and dismissed by everyone for years, and I will not let that happen again.”
She paused. “The Trolls that besiege our valley will eventually find a way to get through our defenses—if not those of my Elves, who are skilled fighters, then certainly those of your humans, who are not. When that happens, an escape will be necessary for both of us. We cannot remain if the Trolls seize the valley. We are no match for them.”
“Do not presume to speak for me,” Skeal Eile warned.
“But I do presume,” she said at once. “I know of your small magic. Yet I have something far more powerful. I have magic born of the Faerie world and brought over into this one. I have Elfstones, Seraphic, and I can stand against anything.”
Skeal Eile had heard of Elfstones, though he had never seen any. It was said that no one had seen them in many, many years—that no one even knew where they were at this point.
“You have possession of these?”
She smiled. “They were hidden by Phryne’s grandmother, but their hiding place will be revealed to me soon enough, and then they will be mine.”
He grimaced. “Will they, now? Then why is it I worry that your expectations might be unrealistic?”
“Because you do not have the faith of your convictions,” she said. “And I do. I know how to get what I want. You would do well to keep me as your ally instead of threatening me with reprisals. We are both faced with a dangerous situation that could turn around on us at any moment—if not through the invasion of the Trolls, then through the interference of our own peoples.”
He held her gaze for a moment without speaking. “I think that perhaps I am better prepared to face dangerous situations than you are.”
Her eyes glittered. “You might do well to hope that you don’t have to find out.”
She stood abruptly, giving him a dazzling smile. “I think you should go now. We have an understanding. You will hear from me within the week—an official invitation to visit Arborlon and speak to the High Council and the Elven people, as promised.”
He started to get up, but she quickly motioned him back again. “Oh, I don’t think you should walk out with me, Seraphic. We don’t want to create an appearance of impropriety. Let me send someone to escort you out.”
“That’s very kind,” he replied with a smile. He motioned toward her face with a slow, vague gesture. “By the way, I wouldn’t let those scratches go unattended. They look rather nasty.”
She smiled back. “Accidents happen, Seraphic. You might want to bear that in mind.”
Then she turned and was out the door before he could respond. But it didn’t stop him from thinking that he would have given anything in that moment to be able to strangle her.
HE WALKED BACK through the city to the small inn at which he was staying, one frequented by non-Elven travelers, and retired to his room to brood. He could not remember the last time he had been this unhappy. What made his situation even worse was he lacked a way to change that. How could he bring Isoeld Severine to heel? He couldn’t expose her by revealing her part in the death of the King without revealing his own. He couldn’t send Bonnasaint after her because killing her gained him nothing; it just put him further away from his goal of persuading the Elven people to his cause. And threats were pointless. A woman like Isoeld was immune to any threats that he might muster.
He needed something else, another way to get to her, a form of leverage that would force her to do what he wanted. He had believed wrongly that he had gained that leverage by giving her what she wanted—her husband dead and herself poised to gain the throne. Where was her gratitude for that? Nowhere in sight.
What troubled him even more was her failure to take control of things when she’d had the chance. The Elven people were in shock over losing the King; they would have rallied to her at once if she had demanded it. Instead, she had dithered about with her stepdaughter’s fate and tried to handle it discreetly. She might have intended to kill the girl, but she had failed to carry out the act. Now it might be too late. In spite of what the Queen thought, the girl would not be easily found. She had family and friends and allies, people who didn’t like the baker’s daughter who had married their King. They would help her. They would hide her. It could take weeks before anything further happened.
Weeks that none of them had. The Drouj wouldn’t sit idle while the Elves worked out their internal problems. They didn’t care about the Children of the Hawk or the Seraphic. Both were nothing more than obstacles to be eliminated when they invaded the valley.