Page 59 of A Serenade To The Elf Queen
“The spell carved on that stone…I’ve never seen anything like it,” Ragnar mutters, crossing his arms.
“This land is cursed,” Tierra lets out a low breath. “I suggest we remove ourselves from this place immediately.”
“Agreed,” Aelfric says, ushering me away. I feel a strange sensation as if I’m being watched. Surely enough, as I turn, those scarlet eyes stare at me again. I cannot look away from him.
“Will he be a danger to my niece?” Rainer suddenly asks, noticing the Nightwalker’s attention on me.
“You have nothing to worry about. The curse is already pulling him back to where he belongs.” Kheirall’s dark eyes flicker. “By dawn, he’ll be stuck there for another century, or millennia, or for the rest of eternity I suppose.”
My heart clenches at the knowledge. I have felt the despair and doom of being in that dungeon. Svenn has been imprisoned there in solitude for a thousand years.
I keep looking back to the vampire until he is completely out of sight. This nagging feeling in my chest is unbearable, but there is something important I must do. The Hlaryan elves have already started gathering the wounded. I search amongst the crowd for Lady Deirdre.
“I need you to come with me,” I tell Rainer and the healer urgently. They follow me without question. My eyes begin to water the moment I see him stir in the bushes.
Shade didn’t bite the poison after all.
“You came back,” he says, surprise filling his usual bland expression. His gray hair is caked with mud and blood.
“Of course.” So many terrible things happened since I left him. I’m just glad he’s all right.
“I need to remove this,” Lady Deirdre says, trying to unlock the mask on Shade’s mouth. The male shakes his head fervently, opening his wound.
“Leave the stupid muzzle on,” Rainer sighs, rolling up his sleeve. “Focus on the life-threatening ones first. I’ll heal the small cuts later.”
Their conversation grows distant in my ears. The clarity of my vision starts to muddle as exhaustion takes over. I don’t fight the darkness this time as it swallows me whole.
A heavy metallicscent of blood and magic greets me as I wake up in the healing tent. I don’t remember how I got here but Aelfric is by my side, polishing his blade. Hlaryan elves have already started their treatment of the injured.
I watch silently as an acolyte tries to set Ragnar’s dislocated shoulder. “That’s it. You’re doing good. So good.”
“Use that sparingly. He has a praise kink,” Kheirall mutters, his tone teasing and light, but I note the edge of concern in it. The berserker’s wound is not as bad as I thought.
It was bad but you pulled a lot for him, dearest,the Un whispers in my ear.Remember, there’s always a price.
“Should have attended to our own first,” I hear Eamon mutter to Ctibor. The disdain in their faces over the demons’ presence is as clear as day.
My eyes frantically search for Garrett and Darstan. Both of my knights are already being treated for their superficial bruises by Tallula and Lenna. I catch Rainer resting quietly at the far corner of the tent.
A sensation of relief radiates in my chest over their safety.
“I have enough healing me. Go help that smartass who tried to tackle a vampire head on,” Garrett jerks his chin to Kheirall.
“At least I’m not the mad lad who tried to strangle him,” the demon grunts. My stomach heaves at the sight of the grisly wound on his back. I can’t believe he is walking with that injury.
“Your wings may need stitches. Lay on the table,” Lady Deirdre directs, petting the malachite crystal bed. Her eyes show she will stand no nonsense.
“It’s fine. Give the room to others. I’ll sit,” he mutters, his voice rough with pain.
“Careful, people might actually think you’re a good guy,” Aelfric muses, crossing his legs.
The demon sighs, “I’ve been called much worse.”
Their conversation fades as my mind wanders to Svenn. The thought of him stuck for another thousand years underground is unbearable. I’ve seen the spell that traps him in the dungeon. It’s a cold and wretched thing. To have suffered that torment for years…
The soft tune plays in my head once again. I feel the symphony in my heart and every nerve playing like an orchestra. A strange longing rises in my bones at the siren call. I need to go back to him.
“Rhianelle.”
