Page 12 of Enslaved

“Oh, well, I’m afraid I can’t help you there. You see, Darling here has gone and fallen in love with the little scamps. I can’t bear to break her heart, you understand how it is.”

A terrible growl rumbles in the pale man’s chest, echoed by his followers until the whole space around us seems to reverberate with thunder. Why don’t they all throw themselves at us, overwhelm the Prince, and rip Sis right out of my arms? But the Prince squares his shoulders, and an ineffable sense of purepowerradiates from inside him. Even in great numbers, theHrorarkhesitate to charge him.

“The choice is yours, Prince,” Anj cries in desperate defiance, his voice rising above the din. “You can please your woman or you can spare your captain’s life. Which is it to be?” He begins to slide the dagger along Khas’s throat.

The Prince spreads his hands. Magic gathers, glinting and sparking around his fingertips. In mere moments, he will let it go. But to do so will activate the curse on his blood. He will blast those furious, desperate trollfolk to oblivion, and in the process—

“Stop!”

I didn’t realize I meant to speak. Not until I find myself standing at the Prince’s side, gripping his arm. Right in full view of Anj and his followers. The Prince turns sharply, staring down at me. His violet eyes are bright with magic, orange sparks shimmering on the edges. “Please,” I beg, my voice tight in my thickened throat. “Please, don’t do this. Spare them.”

“What would you have me do instead, Darling?” His voice is unexpectedly harsh. “Is it the child you want or these fellows? Or perhaps you’re willing to sacrifice Khas to your tenderheartedness.”

With difficulty I swallow. Then: “Give them me instead.”

“What?”

I shake my head and force out my words in a tumble. “I am a librarian. That must count for something in their eyes. Tell them I’ll trade myself for Sis and Khas.”

He blinks twice. A third time. Then slowly, he shakes his head. The wild fierceness of his expression softens into something incredulous and . . . strangely tender. “How can you be so foolish and so brave all in the same breath?”

I open my mouth to respond, but he lifts his hand, brushes my cheek. Trails a knuckle gently down my skin. And all words are quite stolen away. Then he whirls and faces the crowd once more. “It’s your lucky day, Anj, old boy. I’m prepared to bargain and bargain generously in exchange for my captain.”

“I want none of your fae bargains,” the troll growls. “I want only the child and her brothers. Them for her. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“What if I offered you myself?”

“What?” The breath leaves my lungs in a rush. Then I lunge, grab his arm again. “No!”

But the Prince is already stepping forward, pulling himself from my grasp. He holds his hands out, showing how the magic he’d accumulated dissipates, leaving him unarmed. “Turn over my captain,” he says, “and I’ll give you myself to do with as you will.”

Khas roars and lunges in her captor’s arms. In his surprise, Anj lets her go, but she simply collapses, falling on her face, too weak from her beating to do more than mutter a feeble, “Don’t do this, my Prince!”

Anj stands over her, large and threatening. His beautiful face is thrown back, the light of the glowing crystals revealing the shock in his expression followed by intense calculation. “You have to know we will kill you,” he says at last.

“Of course,” the Prince replies. “I figured as much. Though you’d be a fool to do so.”

“A fool to kill theguthakugelfkin who has ruled over us from on high these last four hundred turns of the cycle?”

“Yes. Because once I am gone, the King of Aurelis will send someone new to take my place. Someone not so charming, we must assume.”

“Then we will kill him too.”

The Prince shrugs. “Sure. If you get the chance. But let’s say that you do. Then another will be sent. And another. And another and another, and meanwhile the library up there—the very prison containing the worst horrors ever unleased upon Eledria—will fall apart. More and more, faster and faster, with no one left to stop it. Do you think just anyone has the wherewithal to keep Noswraiths in check?”

Anj hesitates. He’s witnessed his fair share of Noswraith outbreaks over the cycles. He knows perfectly well he doesn’t have the means to deal with them.

“If I have your ear,” the Prince continues, taking another step forward, “perhaps I might tempt you with another offer. Turn Khas over. Leave little Sis in the arms of her human mother along with her three siblings. Let us proceed unharmed back to the palace.” He pauses, draws a deep breath. “And I vow to turn the governing of Vespre over to trollfolk in the next ten turns of the cycle.”

The whole of the city seems to fall silent. It’s so still, I could well believe the denizens have turned to solid stone. Anj’s eyes are wide as two moons, his face white and tense. I force myself to draw air into my lungs.

“Yes,” the Prince continues, turning his head to take in the crowd. He seems to look into each one of those hard, ugly faces by turn. “You will choose your own king by whatever means you prefer. Vespre will be under troll rule once again.”

“You haven’t the authority,” Anj says at last, his voice several degrees higher than before.

The Prince nods in concession. “This is true. But I am the only one in all of Eledria who can manage the library. This gives me sway among courts and kings. Sway I will promise to use in your favor.”

Anj’s teeth flash. “I’m thinking I would rather go ahead and kill you now while I have the chance.”

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