Page 30 of Fate Calls the Elf Queen

Maker above, everyone thought Tenebris was the evil one, but what if Thane joined with him too? What if that had been his plan all along? She couldn’t imagine she’d been played for a fool this entire time, but it felt like a serpent coiled itself around her stomach. Had Thane known that he and Hel were related before? Her breaths came faster.

Did he use her to wake him?

“No. I—I have to get out of here.”

Piper’s brow furrowed. “And go where?”

She slowly backed further into her room; her fingers scraped against her scalp.It can’t be true.But she couldn’t deny that since the day Hel woke things were different.He wouldn’t make love to her and wouldn’t marry her.Her backside bumped into the window ledge, and she turned.

Piper followed her into the room. “Laya, talk to me. You’re panicking. I can see it.”

I must get out of here. I have to think.

“I want to be alone. With the snap of his fingers, Hel put me to sleep. It was that easy. I just need to get away from him.” She snatched a cloak draped over the back of the chair and shoved the window open.

“Hel isn’t the only danger. There are radicals in the city who’ve hated you since you were born, people who want to string you up and hang you from a noose because you woke the Black Mage, thanks to thePalenor Scroll, and not to mention the pale ones, it’s too dangerous. At least we know Hel doesn’t want you dead.” Piper pressed her lips together and shook her head. “I never thought I’d say this in a million years, but he wants to protect you even if it’s in his own twisted way. You’re safer here.”

Even Mathekis, the pale one general, had told her long ago that she didn’t need to fear Hel. He also said she’d one day stand at his side and that thought made her panic even more. “I’ll come back.” She used her vines to build an escape and then shattered them before Piper could follow.

Guilt would eat her up if she looked back so she kept her eyes forward. Wind tore through the loose strands of hair around her face as her quick feet carried her across castle grounds. The guards on patrol watched her go by with wary looks but none of them spoke. With a burst of speed, she ended up at a small grove of bushy horse-chestnut trees and stood at the edge of the castle grounds.

This part of the deep ravine didn’t boast powerful or loud waters fifty feet below, more of a slow melodic dance. It would still be one nasty plunge to the bottom she wasn’t sure anyone would survive, but the waterfall, and impressive whitewater currents were half a mile up as was the bridge to cross. But Layala had her own way now. The first time she’d created the bridge she was terrified she’d fall, which brought her magic to the surface easy enough. Simply standing at the edge of the cliff was enough for her magic to break free, to assure its master wouldn’t die.

Magical black vines grew from her feet and tore across until they anchored on the other side. This part always made her nervous.Just run as fast as you can, she silently prepped herself. She could grow several and create an intricate bridge with no risk of falling but that took time and something about running over this made her feel alive. Her stomach tickled as she quickly sprinted across her makeshift bridge. On the other side, standing in knee-length grass, she turned with a triumphant smile and with the flick of her fingers the vine vanished. For everyone’s criticism of her magic, at least she’d learned to make her vines disappear on her own. She checked the area to make sure guards didn’t see her. The bushy horse-chestnut trees provided ample cover and she didn’t believe she’d been followed.

After she slipped her cloak on and pulled up the hood, she started toward the city. The Valley was notorious for architecture reflecting the grace and precision of the elves, with intricate patterns, delicate carvings, and sweeping arcs adorning many structures. Even at night a sense of tranquility washed over her, accompanied by the fragrance of blooming flowers and the crisp scent of the surrounding woodland.

The high elf city had a delightful blend of natural aromas, tinged with hints of magic and mystique. The air carried the gentle perfume of jasmine, lavender, and wild roses, intermixed between the houses and buildings. Wisps of aromatic incense wafted from open windows and drifted through the air, offering a soothing and calming ambiance despite the danger of pale ones lurking in the dark beyond the city limits.

During the day the main streets bustled with an array of charming shops, each offering unique and exquisite wares. The storefronts were adorned with shimmering crystals and sparkling potions from the many magical plants in the Valley, each offering remedies for anything from sleepless nights to faster-growing hair.

At night, however, the streets were quiet, the shop windows dark with closed signs in the doors. She ventured deeper into the city with more shops dedicated to craftsmanship. Elven artisans renowned for their exceptional skill and mindfulness to detail, highlighted their mastery in delicate elven jewelry, intricately woven tapestries depicting ancient legends of kings and wars and rare creatures like unicorns, and finely made swords. Her father would have had his smithee and storefront here. She wondered which building was his from all those years ago.

The melodies of elven harps and flutes drifted from taverns and other gathering areas at this hour, adding a serene and melodic backdrop to the city’s soundscape. Layala pulled her cloak tighter as a pair of elves strolled by. They talked quietly to each other and didn’t seem to notice her presence. She hurried past the grand library where sages and scholars gathered within, their tomes containing secrets and lore spanning centuries. She’d snuck in there for several nights to read alone, looking for answers of the old gods, of the night goddess, but even the oldest of books and scrolls didn’t have answers.

Past the library the scenery began to change. The human district lacked the majesty of the elves. Many of the buildings were made of red brick, and the flower gardens contained weeds. The wrought iron fences surrounding the trees along the streets were rusted in places and needed a good polishing.

She paused in an alleyway, watching one door in particular. Pipe smoke rolled out the entry of the old red brick building into the cool evening air. Rambunctious music from tambourines and harmonicas with steady foot stamping drifted out as well. The orange light from within gave a familiar sense of nostalgia. Many nights she’d ventured to the Smoky Dragon back in Briar Hollow.

A tall balding man with a crooked nose stepped into the entryway, belched loudly then rubbed his protruding belly. “Best drinks in the Valley,” he crooned and swayed down the quiet cobblestone street, whistling.

Layala stayed in the shadows. The building across from the establishment had a hanging sign of a five-petaled pink flower that read below the blossom “Nerium Oleander”, the most poisonous flower in the world. In the day, remedies and tinctures were sold, and at night, it was a gambling den. The new human establishment in the Valley was opened by none other than Aunt Evalyn.

A quiet wind brushed down Layala’s spine despite her cloak, and the sound of leaves skittering across the stone in the alley behind her made her shudder. Gripping the hood of her cloak, she tugged it back slightly and turned. The alley was dark and there were no shapes or shadows but despite what her eyes told her shefeltsomeone. Maybe it was all talk of cloaked figures and a feeling of dread, but she felt like someone was around every corner out to get her.

She shook her head and stepped into the firelight produced from the torches mounted on the buildings, lining the street as far as she could see. That itch at her back, the tingle of her spine made her turn once more. Again, no one stood in that alley, but Layala learned to trust her instincts long ago. She hurried across the street and stopped outside “Nerium O”, as she and Aunt Evalyn called it for short. The west side of the Valley, on this street alone, was for the humans.

The elven guard didn’t patrol here, and if the humans saw her, she wouldn’t be welcomed. It wasn’t that most humans in Palenor hated the elves. In fact, many unexpectedly praised and worshipped them for their beauty and grace, but as with everyone in these times, they feared the pale ones and it was a curse synonymous with the fair folk.

With a deep breath, she slipped inside and was hit with pipe smoke and loud chatter. It took a moment for her sight to adjust to the new brighter light, but she spotted Aunt Evalyn behind the bar top pouring a drink. As if sensing her presence, Aunt Evalyn’s brown eyes snapped to Layala, and she pushed the glass toward the customer and waved her over.

Keeping her hood up, Layala casually walked along the outside row of the gambling tables. A woman in all black with bright red hair that looked like a human Piper, laughed, and raked in her pile of winnings from the center of the table. The rest of the players, four men, all threw their cards and moaned about women being bad luck.

“Bad luck for you,” the woman said.

All five of them turned and watched Layala walk by as if they could sense she wasn’t one of them—an outsider. For this reason, if Layala came here it was usually during the day when the place was mostly empty save for a few customers.

When Layala stepped up to the bar top and placed her hands on the smooth, glossy surface of the black stone, Aunt Evalyn grinned and rested her hands over Layala’s. “About time you come and see me.”

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