Page 64 of Elven Crown

But she didn’t even see Nyx.

Wherewasthe katari?

Just as Rebecca worried something had gone wrong, a soft pop rose behind her, and the shadowed area behind the shipping container flickered with violet light.

Rebecca spun around to see Nyx standing right in front of her. “What’s going on? Did we get a visual?”

“Not yet,” Nyx whispered, shaking her head. “Still waiting for the frogs to open up those trailers.”

Rebecca glanced across the docks again, her gut sinking. “So why are you here?”

“Um…to ask if anyone’s seen the elf.” Nyx’s eyes widened in realization before she blurted, “The new one, I mean.”

A cripplingly frigid vice clenched around Rebecca’s insides as the entire shipping yard seemed to close in around her from all sides. Like someone had shut her into one of these shipping containers instead.

“He’s not at his post?” she whispered.

Nyx didn’t have to say anything. Rebecca already knew.

Shit…

That frigid weight in her gut solidified into a horrifying certainty in the next fraction of a second.

Rowan hadn’t returned to his post.

Rebecca already knew exactly what was about to happen, and if she was only just realizing it now, that meant she was already too late to stop him.

20

Time seemed to slow as Rebecca’s pulse fired through her veins. Her breath quickened. Everything around her slowed into a cold, dead certainty.

And even then, she couldn’t move fast enough.

Still, she had to try.

She leapt past a wide-eyed Nyx, who turned and stared dumbly after her. Then Rebecca was at Maxwell’s side, leaning toward his ear to murmur, “Be ready to move.”

“What?” He did a double-take in her direction. “We didn’t get our visual yet.”

“Yeah, well, that fucking elf is about to get it for us. On my word.”

Whether Maxwell relayed the message to the rest of the team or used Nyx to do it, Rebecca tuned out everything else in her awareness as she slinked behind the shipping containers, hoping for a better view of the enemy and what they were transporting in those semis.

She didn’t go far before another pack of griybreki came into view. Her new location offered more sound projection from the echoes pinging off the metal shipping containers, making it infinitely easier to pick out the griybreki’s conversations as they moved around on the docks.

They still hadn’t opened any of the trucks’ trailers.

“Flinkin’ waste of my darksies…”

“You think I care? You think Boss Man cares?”

“Some guy should.”

“Pull your head out, boyo. Boss Man wants all goodies off ship and sittin’ tight, ready for takeoff.”

“Butthisgo-go? All of a sudden?”

“Shove it, Skinner. You wanna be Boss Man’s bag when he hears these goodies ain’t gettin’ where the need’s on time?”

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