Page 32 of Rogue Elves of Ardani

There must have been a way to work around the soulbinder’s magic, or to trick her into releasing him, or to get someone else to, or…

He sighed, rubbing his face. He couldn’t decide if he was worse off now than he had been before. Both situations were their own kind of horrific.

No one at the prison had ever taken away his control over his own mind. That was the one thing that they could never shackle. Crow had not just one, but two ways to do just that.

He kept remembering all the times she’d touched him before. When he’d been weak and in pain and afraid.

Even he didn’t like being inside his own mind when he was that way—having to live with the knowledge of how pathetic he really was on the inside. He sure as hells didn’t want anyone else witnessing those parts of him. The humiliation burned anew every time he met eyes with her.

And he still couldn’t be sure whether she’d used empathy to control him like she’d controlled that guard back at the prison. She could have put things in his head, subtly, without him knowing. There was little point in asking her. She’d deny it either way.

He kicked at the yellow-brown grass beside the road. He had to escape her. He had no faith that she’d ever release him.

The part of him that had already given up almost wanted to stop fighting and just let her keep him on her leash. He’d grown accustomed to simply enduring. It felt doable. It was easy.

It occasionally felt unnatural, even frightening, to be walking around outside. He frequently found himself not knowing what to do next, as if he’d forgotten how to be a person—how to want things and make decisions and take action. Even simple things, like where to walk or look. And he was saved from having to do so when Crow told him what to do.

On cue, she came walking down the street toward him. “I’ve got us a place for the night,” she said.

He crossed his arms. “Won’t Alexei guess we came this way?”

“We crossed over several other roads on the way here. It’s not a direct route from the prison. It’s possible they’d come looking this way, but not likely. Don’t worry. I plan on getting us to Valtos fully intact.”

She led him through a patch of trees, around the back of the largest building in town. From this angle, they were relatively safe from prying eyes.

“That’s ours,” she said, nodding to a window. “You’ll have to come and go the back way.”

He was relieved to know she had a plan for sneaking him in. The hood wouldn’t do much to keep him hidden from a room full of humans.

“Go inside. I’ll be right back,” Crow said, and walked back around to the front of the building.

The binding’s compulsion instantly chewed at his insides. Quietly seething, he climbed through the window before it could get worse.

The room was larger than he’d expected, and pleasantly dark, with only a few candle flame lanterns lighting it. After an entire day spent in the blinding sun, it was a very welcome relief.

The door, curiously, had a peephole in it, like his cell had, except this one looked out instead of in. He nudged the cover aside and peered out.

He could see down a hall into a large space that was filled with tables and chairs and loud, grinning humans. So many humans.

He was really in Ardani. There were humans everywhere. He had been aware of it already, but the sight still shocked him.

He was at Crow’s mercy in more ways than one. He knew next to nothing of Ardani or its horrible people. The year he’d spent in this country had been behind stone walls and locked doors. He’d improved his skills with their language there, but little else.

It was common knowledge that Ardanians killed Varai on sight, like vermin. Right now, having let his body wither to a shadow of its former self, and having not held a sword in over a year—and not possessing one, anyway—he wouldn’t last long if he were caught by any of them.

Crow suddenly appeared on the other side of the peephole. He stepped back in time to avoid being hit as the door swung open.

She looked startled when she saw him closer than she’d expected. She had the audacity to watch him nervously, like she was afraid of him attacking her, when she knew very well that he couldn’t touch her. He wondered how she still managed to think of herself as the one who had to watch out forhim, when it was clearly the other way around. Maybe it helped her sleep better if she pretended that she was really the victim here, somehow.

She handed him a bundle of cloth with something inside. It was warm. “I got the cook to give me this. It just came out of the oven.”

“Got him to?” he repeated blandly as he slowly unwrapped the bundle.

She shrugged. “Persuaded him to. I can be very persuasive.”

“You used your empathy to steal it,” he surmised.

“You seem very eager to judge me even though you obviously don’t know how any of this works. I don’t go around willy-nilly forcing strangers to bow to my will.”

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