Page 21 of King Elijah (The Zemiran Chronicles 2)

Janelle paused to take a steadying breath, and Elijah drew his gaze to her mouth. Her bruised lip trembled, just slightly, as if she were gathering her thoughts to continue. When she let her breath out, Elijah felt something in him settle. Nothing about the situation had changed, but the ever-present tug between him and the elf was somehow grounding. Her bright, intelligent eyes looked up and bore into him.

“Kieran knows me, Elijah,” she sighed. “The village of Newick was a safe haven for so many who could escape Zemira after your father banished magic, and I became one of them years later. Like all the others, that coven took me in and made me feel like I belonged. Like I was safe.” Her gaze drifted down to where she rubbed her fingers together in small circles. Elijah felt her drift away as if parts of her were experiencing it all again: the hunger and fear, suddenly replaced by a sense of family. “I was adrift at sea, and suddenly I had a home. Of course, I wanted to believe whatever they told me. I wanted to make them proud. I already hated Matthias for his part in destroying my people; it didn’t take much of a push for them to make me hate you too.”

Elijah was struck by just how much chaos the girl had survived. Her tone shifted to something hard when she continued. He felt the barriers between them build back up.

“Kieran trained me to be faster, stronger, and ready to kill for him; and he demanded my loyalty in the process. There’s nothing about me that he doesn’t know. He knows that I would sacrifice anything in the world to save Aiden from his magic, and he wasn’t afraid to take advantage of that.”

Janelle’s eyes flashed with a quiet rage at the memory. Elijah could hear the choke of emotion in her as much as she tried to hide it. “Two weeks,” she said. “I have two weeks to kill the King of Zemira, and if I fail—”

Aiden’s hand reached toward her in comfort, but she flinched away from him. Her arms slid around her own waist as she seemed to fall in on herself. There was still fear in her eyes, but it was more than that. She looked side to side, rabbit-quick because she still hid something.

Her gaze grew distant as she avoided Elijah’s eyes. He could almost feel the shame curling around her—shame for allowing Elijah so deeply into her thoughts.

But why? he wondered. If there was a creature devouring powers from one city to the next, why would they plot murder before they even considered warning the rest of the world?

He was missing something. All the subterfuge, all the fleeting looks of fear, Janelle’s refusal to truly open up to him . . . She was holding something back. Elijah just needed to find the right combination of words to get her tough exterior to crack. He was tantalizingly close, and the frustration of it was beginning to drive him mad.

“Would they even listen to us?” Aiden suggested, drawing both their eyes to his. “We can agree to fight with them to take out that monster. We could send it back to its world. No one would have to die; we work together until it is dead.”

“He sent your sister to kill me, Aiden, or have you forgotten?” Elijah reminded him. “You want me to make peace with my enemy? I’d rather sit back and watch it devour every single one of those damn witches while we prepare for the fight on our own land.” He turned from them again and placed his hand against the wall. “You’re completely out of your mind if you believe I would ever help that man.”

Aiden shook his head. He put his hands on his knees, pushing up from the table and beginning to pace across the small chamber.

“It may be the only way,” Aiden added. “If we can convince him that we would fight alongside their people, that we could help send that creature back to where it came from, or kill it—we don’t have to go to war.”

“I may have deserved a bit of punishment for my part in all this, but what about the four men he made her kill to get inside the palace?” Elijah asked. “Am I to forget that blood was shed inside the palace gates? Regardless of my sins, no one touches my people or me.”

Aiden blinked and Janelle looked away to the floor.

“Yes, Elijah,” he said. “That is precisely what I’m suggesting. Forgive me, but we are still rebuilding after the battle that solidified your reign. I can travel to their land and—”

“No,” Janelle said quickly. “Kieran does not make treaties with kings. He takes. You will be dead the moment he sees you and your ship on their shore. You are not to go there, Aiden. Ever!”

Elijah watched Aiden’s eyes turn dark. He would do anything to protect his sister, but he agreed with Janelle for once. Going onto Mylorian land and charging into the village of Newick without proper protection and a solid, carefully constructed plan would be more idiotic than what the pirate crew had done.

“How much longer did you say before he sends someone else?” he asked her. “Since you failed to cut off my head.” A smile curled upon his lips.

“He may have already sent another, Elijah,” Janelle replied.

“Alright,” he said. “I will call for Lincoln to return to Zemira. In the meantime, you will continue to stay here at the palace under my protection.” He turned to Aiden. “Your job is to make sure she does not leave that room!”

“I’m a prisoner again?” she asked, aghast, jumping to her feet.

“For now,” he sighed heavily. “I still don’t trust you fully, little elf. For all I know, everything you just shared is tactical. So, you will take your ass back up to that room until I know it’s safe for my people—and for you.” He held her eyes with his.

Her lips pressed together, and Elijah knew she fought hard to control her tongue, but she remained silent.

Aiden reached out. “Let’s go,” he said. She placed her hand in his and let him pull her gently to her feet. An angry scowl covered her face as she turned to sneer at Elijah before they left. It was a face he had seen her make countless times, but that time, she paused. Their eyes locked again, and her practiced sneer began to falter. There was a softness in her gaze as she looked at Elijah for just a moment. Something like regret filled her eyes. Elijah felt his lips part, felt his body subconsciously lean toward her, into the pull of her soft expression. But then her mask of anger snapped back into place. The moment was over and Aiden led her to her room.

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ELIJAH PULLED OUTthe Voleric pendant, placing it at the center of his palm.Branches danced in the wind surrounding the docks, the sound of ice sheets cracking from the moving sea below.

He had no idea where the Sybil Curse was; whether they were in their world or another. If the Oracle witnessed the Shadow Creature escaping through the portal, would she have seen their attack? Or worse—their deaths? Surely Janelle would have said something about their demise.

His mind centered on Lincoln, interlinking their bond through the magical device. Whatever was happening on the ship, Lincoln was elated. Elijah hadn’t seen his brother, and the pendant was the only way they had been able to communicate for the last two years.

He shivered at the coldness surrounding him. The Voleric pendant had always been somewhat of a mystery. The magic gave him the sense of being trapped in a dream. A dream where he saw everything from the outside, not experiencing it from within. Not until recently could he feel his own magic becoming a part of it. The more he used it, the less he used his own magic to harness its power. The more it became his power. He could feel, smell, and touch it as if the stone were reality itself.

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