Page 106 of Rogue Elves of Ardani

He didn’t hate Crow much at all, now that he thought about it. Quite the opposite, actually.

Goddess, what a horrifying thought.

Resting a hand on the hilt of his sword, he started toward the manor.

Chapter 30

The next time Crow awoke, she was lying on cold, hard stone.

Groggy, she shifted. To her relief, she was no longer tied down, but her head felt like it had been stuffed full of cotton. It was an effort to sit up.

She was in a tiny, pitch dark room, alone. There were no windows. There was no light except for a dim glow that shone beneath the tiny crack at the bottom of the only door.

Unsteadily, she climbed to her feet. She could hardly move, hardly think. The nightshade was still affecting her. Gods damn Toreg.

She approached the door, reaching a hand out in the dark until she found the handle. She pulled.

The door was locked.

Her heart stuttered. She pulled again. Nothing happened. She yanked on the handle as hard as she could. The door rattled a little, and that was it. She was trapped.

“Hello?” she called. There was no answer. Just the cold and the dark and the silence.

Fumbling, she reached in her pocket for her mage torch. It was gone. As was her knife.

She slammed her hands against the door. “Hello!” she shouted, her voice cracking in panic. “Toreg? Let me out!”

How long would they leave her here? It could be forever.

“Let me out! Please let me out!” Her voice echoed uselessly around the room. She pounded the door until her hands bruised.

And then the door opened.

Toreg stood in the hallway, watching her impassively. Her hands were still raised as if to hit the door again. She lowered them, looking daggers at Toreg. Then she saw the person behind him.

Patros stood on the other side of the hall, arms crossed. Crow’s blood ran cold.

“Must you make so much noise?” he said.

Crow’s hand darted out and clutched Toreg’s neck. He tried to duck away, but was too slow, and Crow’s mind was instantly invading his.

She felt him resist, and she pushed harder, crushing him under her will. It was surprisingly difficult. But he’d half expected the attack, and he’d been prepared to defend himself. It didn’t matter, in the end. She was too well-practiced in this.

Obey me,she thought. Toreg waited, trembling with energy and exertion, ready to follow her commands.

She tried to order him to kill Patros. She really did. She tried until it felt like her brain was bleeding out her ears.

But she couldn’t. She could hold the intention in her own mind, but she couldn’t put that intention into Toreg. The thought wouldn’t quite come together. It dissolved the moment it began to form. Planning Patros’s theoretical death was one thing. Carrying it out was quite another. It was different, wishing death on him when he was standing right next to her.

The longer she tried to force it, the worse she felt. Something in her chest was contorting and squeezing as if on the verge of bursting through her rib cage.

With a gasp, she let Toreg go and fell to her knees. Toreg staggered away, clutching his head. Patros laughed.

“Did you just try to have him kill me?” he said, walking toward her. He took a pair of gloves from his pocket and began putting them on. Crow stiffened.

“Get up,” he said, stopping in front of her.

She slowly stood.

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