Page 75 of Elven Throne

Without him, what would be the point?

22

Rebeccaslippedthroughtheshadows without a sound, grimacing at every startling snore and subtle shift of weight across rustling bedrolls and sleeping bags, every burst of coughing and snorting.

But so far, none of those noises meant anyone around her had woken up, which was exactly what she’d wanted.

Getting out of here with all of Shade and the entire Sparta pack still asleep, a little more than an hour before dawn, was so much easier than trying to do it in the light of day. Where everyone could see and bombard her with questions or form their own opinions of what was happening.

At this point, the feeling of some giant clock ticking away her available time to get things done hovered over her shoulder constantly. She didn’t think there was much time left at all to go hunting for the Bloodshadow prophecy before some other catastrophic event inserted itself into her life and had to be dealt with immediately.

Right now, she had several current and potential enemies waiting to serve up such a catastrophic event, and she preferred not to give any of them a running head start.

Then she reached Maxwell waiting for her beside the last tent erected in a long row of them across the yard, his silver eyes flashing in the darkness as he nodded.

“Time to go,” she whispered and only made it halfway past that last tent before the rustle of the entrance flap whipping aside rose above the cacophony of sleeping sounds from nearly two hundred people on the compound.

“What the hell did you get yourself into this time, elf?”

Rebecca spun around with wide eyes.

“Zida,” she hissed. “What are you—”

“I’m old as shit, kid,” the healer muttered, standing clear of the tent flap as she let it fall shut behind her before folding her arms. “When you get to be that age, you try telling me sleep’s exactly the same as it always was.”

The healer’s beady black eyes flickered between Rebecca and Maxwell before she pursed her wrinkled lips. “So now that we both know I’m not going back to sleep, what did I just ruin?”

Rebecca backtracked toward the old woman with a sigh. She had to tell Zidasomething. All things considered, it probably was best the healer had caught her and Maxwell in the act of sneaking out.

“We have to go,” she whispered, “Hannigan and me. There’s something I need to take care of. It won’t affect you or the others while we’re gone, but I can’t keep waiting on it anymore. It won’t take long, but it has to be done now. And it’ll keep everyone here safe for a lot longer.”

“Uh-huh.” Zida raised a hairless eyebrow. “Going after some horrible villain on your own while the rest of us miss all the fun, huh?”

“If we’re lucky,” Maxwell grumbled.

The healer snorted. “I can’t say I didn’t see this coming. Or something like it. How long do you need?”

“I don’t know exactly,” Rebecca said, wishing she’d thought of answers to these questions beforehand, just in case. “If everything goes well, we should be back before Shade’s week of…gracious hospitality is up. But I can’t make any promises.”

“Join the club.”

“But while I’m gone,” Rebecca added, casting wary glances around the enormous yard now studded with tents and last-minute shelters amidst the trailers and yurts and other outbuildings, “you’re in charge here.”

“I’mwhatnow?”

“Running things for me. Answering questions. Making up answers, if you have to. Just until I get back.”

“The fuck I am,” Zida hissed. “You think I’ve been a healer this long because I thought it would get meintoleadership?”

Something rustled behind her in the tent, then the entrance flap whipped aside, and Bor shuffled out, scowling and squinty-eyed. “What now?”

Surprise, surprise. Bor and Zida sharing a tent.

Rebecca widened her eyes at the healer.

Zida pointed at her with a gnarled, claw-like finger. “Not another word.”

“What about me, huh?” Bor groused. “You gonna shut me up too?”

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