Page 33 of Court of Treachery

“Lord Saradon,” snarled the goblin upon the throne, his mouth struggling to form the syllables.

A current shot through Harper.Perhaps she had misheard. It was so loud. But she stared at the elf all the harder, recalling Aedon’s tale of the dark elf Saradon, whose mark she bore on her charm bracelet.

“You bring me no gift?” snarled the leader of the goblins.

The elf narrowed his eyes and turned back to him. He gestured at their surroundings. “I gave you Afnirheim. That is more than sufficient to show you my intent.”

The pascha laughed, showing bloodied, pointed teeth, and waved at the hall before him, which teemed with swarming goblins. “Take what you want of the spoils, Lord Saradon.”

“I do not need your loot. I need your scourge.”

“And you shall have it.” The pascha grinned wickedly. The scourge of goblins around them shrieked and cavorted with glee at the prospect of further conquest.

“Good.” Saradon’s lips curled into a mirthless grin. “I expect you to come when the banners are called.”

The pascha hissed. “We do not take orders from Elfkind.”

“But you will take mine if we are to succeed,” said Saradon forcefully. He took a step forward.

The pascha’s eyes seemed to unfocus for a moment as his gaze slid away. “Yes, we shall,” he said dully, before he blinked rapidly and returned his attention to Saradon.

Saradon gazed around them. His lips thinned as he viewed the goblins with distaste. “I shall leave you to your spoils.”

Harper floated away as the sounds, sights, and smells receded, fading into darkness once more.

She woke upon the ground with Aedon’s cloak wrapped around her and a warm hand upon her forehead. She opened her eyes slowly. Above her, stars pinpricked the night sky. The shadowed faces of Aedon and Brand, cast in the fire’s glow, hovered in the fringes of her vision.

“Can you see me? Harper? Can you hear me?” Aedon asked.

“What happened?” she mumbled, closing her eyes for a long moment again. Her head pounded to the point it hurt to look around. She opened her eyes to slits—Aedon’s troubled face hovered inches above her.

“I don’t know,” he answered. “You collapsed, and you’ve been twitching and mumbling for several minutes.”

Harper slowly looked around. At the edge of her field of vision, she saw the company of dwarves lurking. Some openly looked toward her. Others glanced over subtly or pretended not to be listening.

She lowered her voice. “I saw something when I passed out. I don’t know what it is. But I think it might be connected to the dwarves, the goblins, and Afnirheim. I just cannot make sense of it.” She stopped, frustrated.How can I possibly explain it?It had already started fading at the edges of her memory, and she clung to it.

“You can show me, if you wish?” said Aedon. “I will be able to see what you saw. It might help us make sense of it.”

Harper swallowed as Aedon reached his hands out. For some reason, she wanted to shrink away from his touch, despite them clarifying the boundaries between them. Instead, she forced herself to lace her fingers through his, as if there were nothing amiss.

The faint caress of his magic stroked through her, and she closed her eyes, sinking into the memory once more, trying to remember every detail. Aedon’s hand grew tighter upon hers, until his grip became painful. Harper opened her eyes as the memory faded, and Aedon’s grasp loosened. She pulled away. His pale face told her he had seen everything. She had hardly seen him so speechless before. A premonition of fear curled up her spine as he helped her sit up, then offered her a drink from his waterskin.

Halvar loomed over her. “Is she well?” he asked, frowning.

“Exhaustion,” said Aedon with a reassuring smile that betrayed none of the consternation he had just shown Harper. “Humans, you know. Not as strong as you fine folk.” The dwarves around them guffawed at that—and their attention peeled away, back to their own circles. “If we may have a healer at Keldheim check it is nothing more untoward perhaps?”

“Of course.” Halvar waved his hand dismissively and returned to his own company.

“What is it?” Brand asked, a sharp bite to his voice.

“Far worse than we feared,” whispered Aedon. “Harper, I believe you just had a vision—of inside Afnirheim.” He swallowed, and his eyes darted around to the dwarves, who lurked close. “I cannot explain. Let me show you.” He reached out to grasp Brand’s and Erika’s hands.

A few minutes later, looking at their faces, Harper knew they had seen what she had witnessed. She tugged her cloak closer as her body shook from fear and exhaustion. “What does it mean?”

“It means we must speak with the könig at once. Afnirheim is not only lost, but it is lost beyond their reach.Saradon,” Aedon cursed. “Goblins are the least of our problems now.”

“Was it really him?”

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