Page 31 of The Elven Spymaster's Thief

“Solon?” I asked.

My brother’s fiery red head swiveled. His brown eyes widened. “Avril! A little help here?”

I eyed the shadow elf. “Dargan?”

He surveyed me with a glint of amusement in his light-colored eyes. “Do you have a request, my lady?”

“Don’t kill him.”

Dargan’s eyes lightened in what I had begun to understand was a sign of amusement in an elf. “I mean him no harm. I am merely defending myself.”

“Really.” Solon sputtered. “You started it with abducting me.”

Dargan regarded Solon coolly. “You requested that I bring you to Master Whispier when I informed you that he had contracted your sister as a companion.”

“I never gave you permission to take me with you through shadows like a wraith. Neither did I agree to manhandling.”

“You pulled a knife on me.”

I scanned the floor, spotting my brother’s favorite blade glinting on the rug in the center of the room. “Do you have any more weapons?” I asked Solon.

My brother snorted. “Like I would say in front of this thug.”

“My lady, if you would?”

I crossed to the knife, picking it up. “Confiscated,” I informed Dargan.

“Throw it here,” Solon demanded, extending a hand in my direction.

“What do you mean to do with it?” I asked.

“Carve that meddling, backstabbing spymaster a reminder of his betrayal, preferably in the middle of his chest.” His eyes narrowed in on Dargan. “But first, I intend on teaching this bully a lesson.”

“In that case, I am going to have to hold onto it.”

That caught Solon’s attention. “Say what?”

“You see, I made a vow.”

Solon cursed. “He made you trade places.” He cursed again before arching his back and bellowing as best he could, considering he was pinned to the wall by a very patient shadow elf. “Whispier!”

“No need to yell.” The calm voice came from directly behind me. I had not heard his approach, but I strangely wasn’t surprised when he ran his fingers along my arm, caressing the inside of my wrist as I released the knife into his hold. “Thank you,” he whispered in my ear before stepping around me to face Solon. “Release him, Dargan.”

Dargan slid Solon down the wall until his feet touched the floor and then released him.

Solon rubbed his chest as he straightened to his feet. “I have a complaint to register with you, spymaster.”

“So, I have heard. In fact, I suspect my whole household heard. We elves have sensitive hearing if you recall.”

“I do.” Solon took a deep breath and then groaned. “Did you really have to punch me in the ribs?” he complained at Dargan.

“You cut me.” The shadow elf made the statement without emotion.

“Sounds like a reasonable response to me,” Whispier commented. “This your blade?” He held up the knife.

“It is.”

“I will return it to you later. What is the matter you wish to discuss with me?”

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