Page 40 of The Elven Spymaster's Thief

We stood in companionable silence for a few moments before he bowed to me. “I must depart. I wish you a good evening, Lady Avril. May you have a pleasant walk.”

“Thank you.”

Then he was gone.

The moon rose over the palace. Its glow waxed and waned as the clouds blew across the sky. I reached the pond and perched on the bench in the shadow of a towering pine. Floating globes of light hovered above the water, casting a silvery glow to the ripples caused by the breeze. It created an intricate play of shadow and light.

How quickly all this beauty had become comfortable. Only a matter of weeks in the past, I had been creeping through this exact garden with the intent to steal. Like Blagden, I hadn't taken the time to appreciate the landscaping, the quiet, the tranquility. I drew in a deep breath. So much had changed since then.

A soft gust of air signaled the arrival of a shadow elf behind me.

“Convenient,” he muttered. Grabbing my shawl, he dragged it down, baring the back of my left shoulder to the cool air. Then with a vicious slash, he ripped a blade through the cloth and deep into my shoulder. I gasped in pain and surprise.

Instinct finally kicked in as I scrambled to pull the blade I still carried, but I was too slow. He was gone. I hadn’t even been able to identify him.

A violent crack of rushed air whipped my hair into my face. I raised my good arm and fisted dagger, ready to defend myself, but the new arrival caught my wrist in his dark hand. “Lady Avril?”

Relief flooded through me. I knew him. It was the scarred shadow elf with the silver-streaked hair. I didn’t know his name, but I instinctively trusted him. I dropped my knife and sagged to my knees as I struggled with a sudden wave of pain. A warm rush of blood coursed from my wound as tears threatened.

“I was attacked,” I managed. “It was a shadow elf.”

The elf standing over me tensed.

Suddenly, the crack of an angrily arriving shadow elf interrupted me. Followed by Illeron’s voice. “If you weren’t my brother—”

I didn’t need to lift my head to know who had transported Illeron—Casimir.

“Avril.” Illeron knelt so closely that I could feel the heat of him. A shiver jolted through me, bringing with it a fresh flare of pain. His warmth surrounded me as he pulled me close. It more than made up for the pain. I willingly leaned into his solid reassurance, breathing deeply of his familiar scent.

“It is deep,” Casimir observed with a foreign note of concern in his voice.

Illeron’s warm hand settled over my wound, and the tingle of healing magic permeated my shoulder.

I lifted my head to meet his gaze at just the right moment to see the air behind him begin to glow and waver. Then, the very fabric of the world seemed to rip in two. Through the tear, I glimpsed part of Illeron’s study. A statuesque man dressed in gold and silver stepped through the rip, which closed behind him. He was strikingly handsome, with strong bone structure and sharply observant eyes. The powerful essence surrounding him had nothing to do with the enormous gleaming sword in his right hand or the shadow of a glittering, sparkling crown across his brow.

“There was no need to come, your majesty,” Illeron said from next to me, confirming my suspicion that the King of the Seelie court had just graced us with his presence.

“I beg to differ.” The king glared in the direction of the pond. “I believe that is a siren, and considering the wound in the woman’s shoulder, she has targeted your companion. They hunt by blood scent.”

Before I could look in the direction, he indicated, an unearthly sound rent the air. A strange vibration began throbbing through me. It was as though my veins were resonating with the sound. Beginning almost pleasantly, it swiftly turned uncomfortable. Thrumming and then buzzing pulsed through me. The pain escalated swiftly until I realized someone was keening in pain. That someone was me. I was vaguely aware of a flurry of activity around me.

Standing, not wholly of my own accord, I stepped toward the siren. The pain eased slightly. I had a brief impression of an ugly bird-like woman dressed in weirdly floating gossamer layers. It was almost as though she was suspended in water, not air. Her golden eyes focused sharply on me, bloodlust making them glint.

“No!” Illeron planted himself in front of me, wrapping his arms around me and blocking any forward motion. Threading his hands through my hair, he guided my head so that his mesmerizing green eyes locked with mine. “Don’t move. Once you are in reach, she will kill you and eat you.”

“We could transport her,” Casimir suggested.

“It won’t stop the siren,” the king pointed out.

“We can attack the creature directly then,” the unnamed shadow elf suggested.

The siren’s song intensified again, ripping through me. Illeron’s arms tightened, and his heels dug into the gravel pathway as he fought my unwilling efforts to move toward my doom. Determination flared in his eyes.

The king spoke. “The siren’s spell won’t be broken unless we attack her with a bronze blade covered in the victim’s blood.”

Illeron’s eyes darkened. After firmly pressing his lips to my forehead, he called out to his brother. “Casimir, hold her.”

“Why?” he demanded. “No foolishness.”

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