Page 37 of Revenge of the Elf Lord

“Why do you think he is driven like this? To kill?”

He shrugged, his fist twisting her long hair around his hand as he tightened his embrace, her floral scent filling his nose and separating him from the horrors in front of him. How could anyone do this to those whose bodies and minds were already broken?

If he had any prior doubts about how sick his stepfather was, he now knew for sure the man his people believed in as their healer was no more. To treat humans so horribly… Haman was evil, and he had to be stopped. Cyran just was not sure how.

Shalendra needed to leave this place. Her mind and body were in a roiling turmoil. “It feels like the walls are soaked with pain and sorrow.” All she wanted to do was curl up and cry for all the lost souls here and in all ghettos and camps throughout Europe.

A sound from somewhere close drew her attention. She held her breath, straining her ears to listen to the deathly still air around them. A soft scruff, like something being dragged over the stone floor, or maybe it sounded more like material rubbing together. She could not tell.

“What is it?” Cyran asked in a low voice. She shook her head, giving him a slight frown and placing one finger over her lips to silence him as he drew closer. Turning her head, she narrowed her gaze to a spot where something seemed to shimmer, but it disappeared.

Searching her memories for how to use her ghost sight, like she used to as a child in Niflheimr, she exhaled and closed her eyes, focusing on a small part of the magic she had not used since living in the death realm.

Opening her eyes this time, she saw the bodies through a white veil. On the other side stood a little girl who looked maybe five or six years old. It was difficult to tell, though, since most children were so malnourished during the war, they looked much younger than their age.

Dressed in what had once been an adorable pinafore jumper, the simple white shirt underneath had dots of what looked to be blood on one side of the rounded collar. The top button was missing, and the knees of the jumper were torn as if she had made a habit of crawling on the floor.

The child wore no socks but did have on scuffed and worn brown leather Mary Jane shoes. Her long brown hair was parted in the middle and braided on either side of her head. The ribbons holding the braids together were knotted, and the ends frayed.

The young girl pointed to the far side of the room and smiled. Shalendra returned her smile, hoping to put her at ease now that she knew she could be seen.

“Hello, little one. Are you alone?” The child shook her head and motioned again, pointing with more force to the back corner where one of the body piles was. Shalendra tilted her head. “Do you want me to go back there?”

The girl nodded and walked behind a pile. Shalendra could do nothing else but follow. Moving away from Cyran, she reached over, laced her fingers through his, and pulled him with her, hoping he would come without questioning what she was doing.

She felt a slight tug as he started to resist. She stepped closer and led him to the corner where the little girl now stood, her head bowed as she stared at something just out of sight.

Shalendra stopped next to the spirit and glanced at the floor. With a startled gasp, her gaze snapped to the spirit's, tears blurring her vision. “Your sister?” Shalendra whispered. The young girl nodded.

Glancing back at the curled-up form, she realized this child was a replica of the spirit staring at her. If this girl could rise as a spirit, why hadn’t her sister? Had all the people in this room moved on? She prayed they had. Being trapped in the place where they died would be a nightmare.

She squeezed Cyran’s hand to reassure him, then let go, her upper body shivering from the chilled temperature of the basement. Leaning down, she laid her palm against the unmoving girl’s form and exhaled. She knew if she did this, the girl could return to her body or, at best, become a shade like her twin.

Seeing the hopeful expression on the spirit’s face, Shalendra knew she had no choice. Before she changed her mind, she sent a quick burst of heat from her soul into the small body.

A few seconds passed but nothing happened. She sent another quick burst of heated energy and waited. The body twitched. The small mouth opened, letting out a low moan. The girl beside her squatted and placed her small hand on her sister’s cheek. Her eyes opened, and she stared up at her twin with a sweet smile. “You stayed.”

The squatted girl nodded. “I promised you I wouldn’t leave, and I didn’t. Remember the story Mama told us—about the beautiful queen of the underworld who would come and find us? She’s here, Ingrid. The lady queen is here. I brought her to you.”

“Really, Astrid?”

Shalendra met Astrid’s gray gaze as the spirit nodded. “I’m quite certain she is the one who will help us,” the spirit whispered.

Cyran stepped closer, and the space seemed to expand with his presence. When he laid his hand on her shoulder, the heat from his palm seeped into her, spreading throughout her body and erasing the chill. “Shalendra, what have you done?”

13

Cyran stared at the two spirits, their eyes wide in their slender faces. Twins, the two girls could not have been more than six, and their young lives had not been easy. If Haman had been involved, nor had their deaths.

“Shalendra?”

“It was nothing, Cyran. I sent a small amount of energy into the little one so she could reanimate enough to be with her sister.” Her aqua-colored eyes met his, sorrow in their depths. “I couldn’t leave her as a lost soul. I just couldn’t. It would be a fate so much worse than death.”

He exhaled, the held breath escaping with the force of a thousand knives lining his throat. He should have realized Shalendra would never have done something that would have harmed the young girl, much less do something without reason.

During this rescue, he learned that she was incredibly caring about others and would always have their best interest at heart, no matter what she suffered for it.

He moved his hand from Shalendra’s back, and the two girls disappeared. He reached for her hand and laced his fingers through hers. Hoping to ease their growing anxiety, he squatted to their level and smiled. “Hello. What are your names?”

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