Page 29 of The Night Prince 3
But his own mind wasn’t allowing him to think. He remembered the taste of Finley’s skin on his lips. He remembered the way Finley pushed his glasses up his nose when they slid down. He remembered how those big, blue eyes got even bigger when Rhalyf demonstrated magic to him. He remembered–Declan slid past him.
Aquilan was then at Rhalyf’s side. “Is there any sign of…”
A body? Violence? Death? Aquilan did not finish that sentence. He didn’t want to. To say it was to make it manifest. But, nevertheless, just like Snaglak had said, there were none of those things. So that meant if a Leviathan got to Finley that it hadn’t killed him. At least not right here. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t dead. The Leviathan were notorious for taking some victims back to their nests where they would feed them to their young. As Snaglak had said: Finley taken. But even if that terrible fate had befallen Finley, the Leviathan could have taken the young man to any number of places here or in the Under Dark.
“Did he go back upstairs?” Elasha glanced up the stairs to see if Finley was lingering up above. “Maybe he just retreated a bit. The fighting was rather fierce. He might have become afraid and backed away.”
“Why wasn’t he in there fighting with us?” Darcassan asked.
And that had Rhalyf snapping.
He suddenly had Darcassan by the throat and had shoved him up against the wall. Darcassan stared at him open-mouthed. Shock retreated to terror though as Rhalyf got into his face.
“Because he was human, you stupid fool! But we needed his help to find you! So he came with us! Another life put at risk for you!” Rhalyf spat and snarled. “You who wanted to steal from the gods damned Night King! You who would have started a war between Night and Sun Elves because you’re too ignorant to know that taking anything from Illithor is death!”
“I–I–what? Why would it–”
“He’s always watching! The Night King is always watching!” Rhalyf slammed Darcassan against the wall again and again. Tiles cracked. Dust rained down. Darcassan was making alarming choking noises. “All so you could steal a few swords or axes or spellbooks? You think that the paltry things you could carry with your own two hands would turn the tide against the Leviathan if they were really massing against us?”
Elasha was tugging at his arms. “Rhalyf, please stop! You’re hurting Darcassan!”
“I don’t care! He needs to be hurt! Elasha, he got Finley killed!” Rhalyf’s voice bled as he said those words. “Don’t you understand that?!”
She stopped hitting him. Her eyes went wide and her face paled.
“Finley lived less than a quarter of a century, Elasha! He was brilliant! You’ve no idea how brilliant and–and he died because your useless brother thought that a few trinkets he’d never be able to truly master could turn the tide of a war that’s done!” Rhalyf shouted.
Tears were running down his face. He hadn’t even realized when they’d started. He couldn’t breathe. His blood was pounding like a drum in his ears. He felt like he wanted to howl.
“I–I didn’t know!” Darcassan gasped out.
“What you don’t know would fill universes!” Rhalyf shouted.
He felt Aquilan’s hand on his left shoulder. “Please, my friend. Please, brother. I know you’re full of grief, but Darcassan–”
“Isn’t responsible?” Rhalyf let out a bark of ugly laughter as he dropped Darcassan like a pile of garbage on the ground. “Didn’t intend for anyone to come save him because he didn’t even have the sense to know he needed saving? Or more like stopping? You’re right. He didn’t. I should have stayed with Finley. I should have set wards around him. I should have done something to keep him safe!”
“I should never have allowed him to come down here in the first place. I was foolish to think he would be safe,” Aquilan murmured. “You are not responsible, Rhalyf. I am.”
Darcassan coughed as he clutched at his throat. Elasha dropped down beside him and patted his shoulder as if he were a little boy who needed comfort. Rhalyf felt the urge to kick them both. Finley was worth a dozen of them. A hundred. More. But he was gone. Gone.
“Maybe he’s–he’s not dead,” Darcassan got out. “The body isn’t here! Maybe the Leviathan took him back to their nest at Illithor. We could follow after them. Maybe it won’t be too late!”
“Snaglak and Glom go Illithor. Get Finley back,” Snaglak nodded.
Glom burped.
Rhalyf was quivering at Darcassan’s words. That could be true. Finley could still be alive in Illithor. Another rift could open. But the Sun Elves could not go there without risking a war with Vex. But he could. Declan could. It was time to end this life to save Finley’s.
“What do you know about the rifts here, Darcassan?” Helgrom was asking. “How many go to Illithor? How often do they appear? I assume this is the best place to find one as you staked it out.”
Darcassan got shakily to his feet. He was still rubbing his neck where Rhalyf had held him. His voice was rough as he said, “I was tracking magical traces. Illithor has a certain something about it. I’ve tracked most of it here. The rifts open every few hours.”
“Hours?” Helgrom grimaced. “That’s not…” but he bit whatever he was going to say off and said, “there could still be time even if that is true. We need to wait for the next rift to open and go through it. You can use a locator spell there, can’t you, Rhalyf? I know you can’t track between planes, but–”
“I can do that,” Rhalyf agreed. It was something. Something he could do.
“You saw how many Leviathan there were that came out of that last one!” Elasha cried out. She gripped her brother’s arm. “If there is a nest there, it would be suicide to go through!”
