Just a happy family here. Never mind that he was trying to kill my mate, that he laughed at the thought of her starving to death. Never mind that I fantasized about severing his head from his body.
“I said, why am I here?” I growled.
I watched as the pale hair on his arms rose, and he seemed to shrink away from me. Even before he answered, I winced as the Helm of Awe began to hum. This close to him, the circlet was hypersensitive to anything even vaguely threatening. The anger in my voice alone was enough to activate it.
“I need you to open this.” He pushed a small, folded piece of parchment across the table.
“What is it?”
“It’s your lot.”
I didn’t touch the paper. Was this his plan? Unleash Galin, Sword of the Gods on his enemies?
“For the Winnowing,” said the king. “All elves have been given lots so we may choose those who will represent us. We’ve got the Night Elves exactly where we want them. Your sister struck the terms, as she has a talent for negotiation. The winning tribe will lead all the elves. When we triumph, I will become king of all elves, and the Night Elves will be dealt with once and for all.”
Dread snaked up my spine as I thought of Ali. “The Night Elves agreed to this plan?” Was that why she wasn’t in my vision? Because she would die?
“They are desperate to be free of their caverns. There’s not much food down there. It was easy to convince them a Winnowing was in their best interests when they’re watching their children die.” Gorm laughed. “I think they believe they may actually win. Can you imagine that?”
I looked at the paper on the table, but still, I didn’t touch it. “Why lots?”
“It was their idea. The Night Elves were concerned that we’d only send our best men. They demanded the choosing be randomized for all.”
Revna grinned. “But what they don’t know is all High Elves are required to enlist in the military. We are going to absolutely crush them.”
I picked up the folded parchment. I knew Gorm had rigged it, that he wanted me there as his secret weapon. But now, I knew I needed to be there. I needed to protect Ali if she was chosen.
Standing, I ripped it open.
No surprises there. I dropped the parchment on Gorm’s plate, then turned to leave.
“What did you get?” Revna’s voice tinkled.
“I’m sure you already knew,” I growled over my shoulder.
She began to laugh. “Galin, brother, of course you’re in the fight. Did you actually think you wouldn’t be involved? You’re the best fighter we have!” As I walked out, Revna called after me, “And won’t it be fun to watch your tunnel-runt die?”
She was wrong.
I would personally slaughter every one of the High Elves before I let anyone lay a finger on Ali.
Chapter 7
Ali
When the lots were counted, only five of us had the mark. The warden sent the rest of the prisoners back into the mine, and a pair of guards lugged Hulga off to the infirmary.
Then, they took off our shackles for good.
With the warden and two guards in the lead, we were marched up the long, winding tunnel. No one spoke; I heard only the shuffling of our feet over the rough stone.
We stopped when we reached an opening in the mine. A bit of brighter light glowed on the other side. Freedom.
As I crossed through the opening, my breath caught at the view. We were on an upper slope of rubble surrounding the main cavern. Granite spread out beneath us. In the distance, buildings rose from the stone.
After living in tunnels no wider than my wingspan, the enormity of the main cavern was overwhelming, with stalactites and stalagmites so large they would dwarf Boston’s skyscrapers and a ceiling so high it disappeared into a murky gloom. The faraway city lights glittered like thousands of stars.
I’d made it. I was free.
Even hungry as I was, euphoria roared in my chest, and I shouted, “Woooooo!”
I listened to my voice echo, and the other marked prisoners joined me.
“Woooooo! Woooooo! Woooooo!” We howled together like a pack of wolves, the excitement of freedom overwhelming any sense of decorum.
“Quiet,” growled the warden, but we ignored him, shouting into the darkness, celebrating our escape.
Maybe we were headed to battle, but this was more than we could ever have hoped for. An opportunity to breathe air free of rock dust, the possibility of redemption, the dream of revenge and triumph. The five of us danced and shouted until the warden ordered his guards to beat us if we didn’t shut up.
When we were silent, the warden pointed to the distant tower of the Shadow Lords. “We’re to go to Sindri,” he said as he started down the sloping, dark hill toward the city.
We followed. On the way down the slope, we marched past slag heaps and dilapidated colliery structures. My fellow convicts kept their mouths shut until we crossed onto a narrow road.
A tall elf fell into step beside me. “What were you in for?” he asked quietly.
He probably already knew. “Treason. How about you?”
He winked. “Been here a week but it feels like years. Theft, smuggling, a little bit of this and that—”
“Quiet,” said the warden before the elf could continue.
I rolled my eyes. There was no reason for him to threaten us. We were warriors now, not prisoners. “What are you going to do? Kill us?”
The warden fixed me with his gaze. “I will if you run.”
I looked at my fellow convicts. They were dirty and thin. “We won’t run. Anything is better than the mines.”
The warden pursed his lips and stared at us for a long moment, then turned his back and kept walking.
“Is it true you met him?” The tall elf asked me, eyes gleaming. It took me a moment to work out who he meant.
“Galin? Yeah. Unfortunately.”
Another elf cut in, “So, what are the High Elves like?”
I couldn’t say they were beautiful, with golden hair, that they towered over us. Instead, I said, “Uptight. Most of them speak like they’ve got flutes up their asses.”
The elf sucked in a short breath, and his eyebrows shot up. “You’re kidding.”
“King Gorm demands your fealty,” I said in my best High Elf impression.
“Are you serious? That’s how they talk?”
“She’s right,” said the tall elf. “They sound like utter knobs.”
I grinned at him then held out my hand. “I’m Ali, by the way.”
“Bo,” he replied. “So, how’d you end up in the mines?”
With a sigh, I launched into the story of how I’d literally been to Hel and back. After spending my days alone shoveling rock, it felt great to talk. And by the time I’d finished telling them how I’d descended the Well of Wyrd, we’d reached the fluvial plains. Here, we walked past fields of mushrooms: cremini, portobello, matsutake, and black trumpets. But my stomach clenched with horror as I realized something was very wrong with them. They reeked of something foul, and they were growing withered and green. Diseased. No wonder the Shadow Lords had agreed to the Winnowing. The entire city would die if we didn’t do something.