Page 16 of Elven Crown

This was the basis of their relationship back home and in her old life. Pieces of their past together meant to infiltrate the blue potion inside the flask and make this initiation that much more personally painful for the Blackmoon Elf.

And that much more dangerous.

It was the only solution she could think of, but now that Rebecca stared at the dark streaks of black and silver billowing within the glowing blue, she couldn’t help but wonder if she’d just taken this too far.

6

The risks of tampering with The Striving barely registered against Rebecca’s resolve. This was her only chance. She couldn’t turn back now.

There was no other way.

She swirled the flask a few times and studied it. If she’d done this correctly, the reaction should settle down soon, if not back into the potion’s regular blue glow then close enough for it to pass inspection.

It had to look like every other potion delivered to a potential initiate of The Striving. No one could know she’d tampered with it. Certainly not that she’d concocted something specific and tailored to Rowan Blackmoon.

That would only raise more questions. Specifically why, if they were complete strangers, Rebecca would want to force the failure of this new elf at Shade’s door.

They weren’t strangers, but that was one of the truths she needed to keep locked up and hidden as long as she possibly could.

With a final swirl of the flask, Rebecca watched the last bit of mercurial silver light flash within the blue-glowing potion before the last trace of her added magic faded.

At the same moment, an ominous, crackling burst like someone had just set off fireworks filled the training gym. The iron brazier in the central circle and the sconces mounted on the walls all burst to life with blazing green flame.

Green light flashed across the gym, flooding every corner and shadow while sending new ones dancing across the wooden floor.

Rebecca barely had time to react before a voice echoed around her.

“What are you doing?”

She whipped her head up and spun around in her crouch, eyes wide, both the flask and her secret vial in her hands, reminding her just how suspicious she looked right now.

Finding Bor standing there just inside the gym’s double doors, his dark eyes narrowed as he studied her, was a small relief.

Then the flames settled, their foreboding green replaced by the deep, familiar orange glow of natural fire flickering cheerily away at the semi-darkness.

At least it wasn’t Maxwell.

“Just…inspecting the materials,” she told him. “I wanna make sure this is done right.

The old giveldi snickered as he leaned sideways against the doorway. “Do you have any idea just how many of these I’ve personally overseen? I can promise you the materials are immaculate.”

“I’m sure they are.” She returned the flask to its place within the circle, covertly slipping her personal vial—now empty—backinto her jacket pocket. “It’s nothing against you, Bor. This is me doing my due diligence and everything.”

“As is the Roth Da’al’s.” He pushed himself away from the doorframe, then made his way across the room in that slow, shuffling gait of his.

As he walked, Shade’s resident cook—and magical master of ceremonies, apparently—scanned their surroundings, taking in every detail of the space he had prepared. The room that looked like an entirely different place with all the decor, the added wards and casting circles, the various initiation spells readied and waiting for to be used once The Striving began.

Bor finally stopped a few yards from the central circle and raised an eyebrow—scarred so badly, most of its hair refused to grow back. “Just as it’s also the Roth Da’al’s right to alter any aspect of the four stages for a particular challenger, should she or he deem it necessary.”

Rebecca finished straightening from her crouch and froze.

Shit. Had he just called her out on what she was doing here? How much had he seen?

She pretended to inspect the materials at her feet again, trying to sound casual when she asked, “Why would it be necessary?”

“Who knows? Your reasons would be your own. I’m just saying. If that were the case, sneaking around in here half an hour before The Striving would be entirelyunnecessary. Just one of the perks your current position offers.”

She let out a wry chuckle, still very much aware of how slowly Bor moved in his old age and how far away he’d been when entering the gym. Maybe he’d seen her meddling with the flask, maybe not. But did it really matter?

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