Page 10 of Enslaved

This draws another bark of laughter from the priestess’s craggy lips. “You can beg until you’re blue! It’ll make no difference. Neither elfkin nor humans can hope to comprehend the complexity ofgubdagogs.”

“It is true.” The Prince inclines his head in acknowledgement. “I for one certainly do not understand their workings. But she”—he points to Sis, busy weaving a little knotted tangle with her piece of thread—“seems to have the knack. Have a look at this if you will, greatumog.”

So saying, he pulls the frame containing Bheluphnu from the inner pocket of his coat and holds it out for Grush’s inspection. She accepts it, turns it around several times. Then starts when the Noswraith contained within makes a lunge for her, only just restrained by Sis’s clever weaving.

“It’s breaking down,” she says at last, handing it back to the Prince. “Won’t last the day.”

“Well, it is removed from the rest of the working, is it not?” The Prince shrugs and slips the frame back into his coat. “Even you must admit it’s impressive work.”

“I admit nothing.”

“What’s more,” the Prince continues, just as though he’d scored a point, “there is another member of my household who is said to have shown a knack for this. She too may be able to bridge the gap between the temple and the palace.”

Grush narrows her eyes. “You speak of theva-lakgirl, I suppose.”

“Lir,” the Prince replies. “Raised by two of my librarians but born pure troll blood.”

“She is too far outsideVagungad.”

“Perhaps by aiding in the salvation of her city she might find her way back into the holy cycle.”

“Such a thing has never been heard of.”

“Such a thing as Noswraiths had never been heard of until the human mages brought them into being and set them on the courts of Eledria. Vespre was not and is not immune to their malice. Even stone may dream,umog.And anything that dreams can be drawn into the darkness of the Nightmare Realm.” He takes a step forward, his hands clenched into fists. “If the Noswraiths are to be stopped, everyone must band together. Trolls must learn new ways to be wholly troll, even as my kind must learn, perhaps, to be a little less . . . elfin. In the learning, we may grow into one another. Become stronger together.”

Umog Grush settles back in her seat. Her gaze shifts from the Prince to Sis once more. She watches the girl’s nimble fingers fly, twisting ever more complex knots into her thread before unraveling it and starting all over with a still more intricate design. After an interminable silence, the priestess nods her heavy head. “I will train the child. She has natural talent.” She looks down at the Prince once more. “Send theva-lakgirl to escort her to the temple tomorrow. I’ll inspect her then. But I make no promises. If, as I suspect, her soul is too far gone from the stone to be reclaimed, I’ll send her from the temple and never admit her again. If not . . .” She tucks her jutting chin into her thick neck. “As I said, I make no promises.”

The Prince bows again. “What you have given is enough.”

Realizing the interview is over, I hastily drop a curtsy. I’ve been silent through the whole of this exchange, little more than a fly on the wall. But when I sink into the pool of my skirts, the priestess shoots me a look. I cannot decide if it’s overtly antagonistic or merely suspicious.

Grush turns to Sis and speaks a few words to her. The child stands, balancing on the chair arm, and in typical Sis fashion, drops a kiss on the priestess’s broad brow before springing down and dancing to my side. Taking my hand, she leads the way out onto the bridge without a care for how it sways and creaks. The Prince follows just behind us.

We are nearly to the far side when the light goes out.

“Gods blight it!” the Prince hisses. The whole bridge rattles when he jumps in his skin. The next moment, I hear the sharp snap of his fingers. “Come on, Darling, you know I can’t manage without you.”

I freeze, one hand gripping the frayed rope of the bridge, the other holding tight to Sis. A moment of decision hangs before me, a decision that feels far more fraught than perhaps it should. I draw a breath, blinking against the absolute darkness.

Behind me, I feel the Prince reaching out for my hand.

Slowly, I force my fingers to uncurl from around the rope. My stomach plunges as my body sways on those rotten old boards, suspended above that terrible drop. But I reach back nonetheless. Back into the shadows.

Almost at once, the Prince’s fingers close around mine. A shock of pure courage seems to ripple up my arm and burst in my chest. My heart surges, and blood pounds in my ears. It doesn’t matter that we stand above a pit of black nothingness, surrounded by a dark more impenetrable than night. He’s here. Just at my back. His hand clasped warmly in mine. Though deep down I know it’s foolish, I’m suddenly convinced that we will solve whatever problems lie before us. We will save this city. We will stop the Noswraiths from spreading. We will fortify the library and strengthen our numbers.

And somehow, however improbable it may be, we will find a way to navigate the terrible rift between our two selves as well.

The feeling is there and gone again in a moment. I shake my head and growl, “Come on then,” before starting forward, tugging him after me.

“Not so fast,” the Prince protests. “I’m liable to trip, you know.” His graceful fae stride belies his words, however, and he easily navigates the last few paces of the bridge. His hand affords me more support than I like to admit.

We’ve no sooner stepped from the bridge than Sis gives an unexpected tug, pulling free of my hold. “No, wait!” I cry and try to lunge after her.

The Prince’s hand restrains me. “Not so fast, Darling. Remember, she can see well enough, but you’ll run face-first into a block of stone. Slow but steady does it now.”

I hate to admit he’s right. I’m forced to slow my pace and creep back up the long, narrow path through the lower temple. This time, the awful heaviness of stone doesn’t oppress me as intently. I’m too eager, too hopeful. Umog Grush is willing to meet with Lir! Willing to train Sis, willing to give my mad little scheme a chance. I’d scarcely dared hope for this outcome and even now fear to believe it.

“I have to thank you, you know.”

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