Page 50 of Fate Calls the Elf Queen

“When you say ‘they’, who do you mean?” Layala asked as she watched the owl spread its wings and take off. Although she had a feeling she knew.

He stopped and turned his head to look at her. “The Council of the Gods, love. They declared war on us a long time ago.”

“Us?” Layala drawled. “There isn’t exactly an ‘us’.”

She hoped Thane would back her up on this, but he was busy inspecting the broken window. “This was the bigger problem you kept hinting at,” Thane said. “You could have simply told me.”

Hel chuckled. “I knew you’d figure it out sooner or later. And Val, you know what they say, the enemy of my enemy…”

“Is my friend,” Layala breathed. She didn’t want to admit he could be right.

His smile widened making the dimple on his cheek deepen, and Layala’s breath hitched. For all his wickedness making him ugly on the inside, he truly was beautiful, like gazing up at the vast starry night and the wonder that came with heavens.

Hel’s voice whispered in her mind, Careful staring like that, little rabbit, you might give the wrong impression.

Chapter17

THANE

Thane stepped out of the bathroom after discovering the broken windowpane the assassin used to reach through and unlatch the window’s lock. Must he place bars on the windows? Or maybe Hel could set a shielding spell of some kind. Atarah, the keeper of the mage’s tower, did once say “If he could think it he could do it as long as he had a rune to hold the spell.” And from what Thane remembered, Hel was capable of just about anything.

Not only did he have to worry about pale ones and radical elves who may hurt Layala, now the gods’ council sent assassins. The broken bedpost left splinters across the floor and sharp edges on the stump. Broken glass, and scattered bits of crumpled paper from the terrible notes Talon, and others, left the room in shambles. He inspected Layala for what felt like the hundredth time to make certain she wasn’t going to suddenly drop to the floor from a lethal wound. The tiny pink scar across her neck from the blade that could have ended her life was almost invisible now, but the blood staining her shirt was something he could help with.

His sister looked like a pathetic child still whimpering on the ground while conversation went on around her. He stooped down, grabbed hold of her arms, and raised her up. “Come on, enough of that. You’re not hurt, are you?” Talon gripped him around the waist and held onto him like her life depended on it. Groaning, he unlatched Talon’s arms and moved her away a step. “Please go and find Fennan and tell him to put the guards on high alert. Tell him there’s been an assassination attempt.”

“Sure, but I’m writing to Mother too. She’ll probably be over the moon when I tell her Layala was the target. She’ll only be upset that the assassin didn’t get the job done.” Talon grew an almost comedic grin.

“Talon,” Thane snapped.

“You know, princess,” Hel said. “A mouth like that is bound to get your neck snapped. If you think Valeen will tolerate such disrespect once she remembers, you’re dead wrong. Emphasis on dead.”

Thane pursed his lips. Would Layala change so much? He feared who she might become; if the last battlefield was any indication, she’d have no remorse for taking lives if it gave her what she wanted. Seeing her and Talon together again reminded him of all the blood, his sister’s ragged breaths, and her at death’s door in his arms because of Layala’s hand. In some ways, she chose her aunt over him that day even though he’d always chosen her.

There was nothing he loved more than the elf standing there watching him with those pretty blue eyes, searching his face as if she wondered what he might be thinking. It was torture distancing himself from her. Maybe it was the wrong decision. Maybe she’d always be the same, and nothing would change.

Talon stared at Hel, and the smug look she usually wore vanished. Her throat bobbed and she took a half step to put herself partially behind Thane. “Who are you?” she asked softly instead of her usually rude demanding tone.

“You know exactly who I am. I can hear it in the pitter-patter of your rapid heart. I can smell it in your fear.”

With a trembling hand, Talon gripped Thane’s arm. He nudged her toward the door. “Talon, go find Fennan. Now.”

“I’m not going out there by myself,” she hissed. “What if the cat-shifter is out there?”

“I’m the most dangerous thing in this place, sweetheart,” Hel said with a dangerous smile. “You should listen to your brother.”

Talon sucked in a quick breath, and hurried out the door, slamming it behind her.

“I’ve always despised entitled princesses, even if she is your sister,” Hel murmured. “Or now that you’re remembering, what is she to you?”

“She is still my sister, always will be,” Thane said. He’d already considered this as memories of his first family on Runevale came to mind. He loved them too, but it didn’t change that his elven family was still family. His elven mother still carried him in her womb, birthed him, and raised him.

“Huh,” Hel said and carried on, “what did the assassin look like? Be as detailed as possible.”

Layala stood up and her face contorted from putting weight on her leg. “Leopard-like markings on the side of her face. Wildly curly brunette hair. She bore a rune mark, twin diamond shapes, one slightly higher and to the left of the other. Her light tan leather bodysuit cut from her shoulders to her ankles. I’ve never seen the fashion before. A brown belt around her hips with turquoise beads… the rune mark, what is it for?”

“If it’s the one I’m thinking of, it allows non-gods passage through realms. We could travel anywhere at will through the portals. It’s part of being keepers of the realms, but most can’t.”

“If the gods are keepers of the realms, why don’t we ever see them here?” Thane said. “They—we used to come, but we haven’t seen anyone for—”

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