Page 72 of Songs of Retribution

The minute we reached the darkness, I gave into it and tucked into the shadows. The neuvosto members looked up at the interruption and gaped at Orman and Kirsi. A few removed weapons and Kirsi slipped a pair of blades off her hips and pointed them at the elves. "Let's not turn this to bloodshed yet."

Orman, however, raised his empty hands. "I wish to speak. As you can see, I haven't run. I'm still here."

Sigurdur pointed a finger at him. "You evaded our sacred laws."

"No, Father," Kirsi spat. "I did. This narri"—she jabbed a knife in Orman’s direction—"would have died because his purpose burns brighter than the flames." She looked around at the others. "You claim to be beings of honor and wisdom, but you didn't give Orman Kuninkaan a fair chance to speak his words at the trial. He returned to face his death because he cares too deeply about the future of our race to do otherwise. Listen to him."

Tension pulsed in the space. The fire burning in the single dim bowl crackled over the silence. Kirsi didn't let anyone else fill the quiet. "I say you give him a fair chance to speak, then decide whether he deserves execution and if the elves should assist the Prasanna in a closed vote."

Sigurdur stood and clenched his fists. "You think you have some right to tell us how this council runs?"

Kirsi raised her chin. In the dim light, her eyes grew shadowed, only her lips and the line of her nose outlined. "I believe I have a right, as any elf does, to point out corruption when I see it. I'm not afraid of facing my shame, Father. How about you?"

Sigurdur glowered but another council member spoke up. "I think it's a good idea."

Others agreed, and Orman stepped forward, walking cautiously around them then sitting on the same bench we'd both faced the sham of a trial on a few days before. I released myself from the shadows and sat beside him as Kirsi stood at his other side. She’d put her blades away, but her hands lingered over their sheaths.

"Kirsi Kuninkaan is right,” Orman started solemnly. “I returned here because I believe the threat to the Prasanna and the elves is worth the cost of my life." He continued, explaining Carrington's plans, the magic the Prasanna had, rumors of dragons and about the Amentium.He shared with a ferocity in his voice that he feared if the Prasanna didn't hold Carrington, the Froh and the elves would be next. How Lira was positioned to receive the King's magic. That he believed combining forces would give all our races the best chance for survival.

When he finished, an elf with high cheekbones passed out slips of paper then collected them once all had finished writing. She considered them carefully and stood beside us.

"On the matter of execution, the vote is five to two in favor of not enacting punishment."

I released a breath and fell back against the wall. Orman didn't relax though. He leaned on his legs, his eyes fixed on the speaker, waiting for their verdict about joining the Prasanna forces.

Now that Orman was safe, the anxiety of what choice they might make and what that might mean for the fairies and my family sank in bone deep.

She peeled open another sheet of paper. "On the matter of whether the elves should join the Prasanna fairies in their stand against the Seelie, the vote is four to three, in favor of assisting them."

Sigurdur snarled and stormed out of the room. Kirsi frowned at his back as he exited. Orman released a shuddering breath, his eyes growing misty, as though all the emotions from the previous week had finally caught up with them. He turned and looked at me and I gripped his hand.

We'd done it. Somehow, impossibly, we'd gotten the elves on our side. I just wondered if we'd reach the others in time.

CHAPTERTWENTY-SIX

LENNOX

I strodeout beyond the war camp’s tents and into the woods, my feet crunching dried pine needles.

"Lennox," Shaan called behind me. "Wait. Please."

I couldn't stop. Feelings crawled up my throat, strangling me. The leaders in the tent had stared at Lira and me as though we were snakes tossed into their midst prepared to strike.

God, I was a fool to think anyone would ever see me differently, that I could stand at Shaan's side and not shame him, that I could make a difference in the world. I ducked beneath a low branch and kept crunching into the woods. I didn't know where I headed. Away.

Away from the suspicious expressions and doubtful stares, away from the fact that I wasn't good enough for the man I was in love with, away from the fact that our cause was likely doomed anyway.

"Lennox, please."

I finally slowed at Shaan's call. He was a beacon to me, and I couldn't deny him twice. When he caught up, he gasped in breaths and reached for my hand. I didn't snatch it away, but I didn't return his embrace. I'd never deserved this man and was a fool to believe I could be worthy of him.

"Listen," Shaan said, tightening his fingers around my drooping ones. "Ignore them. They're afraid—like the Seelie soldiers who left—and prone to acting stupidly."

"You don't understand," I whispered.

He stepped closer to me. His dark eyes reflected my face, and it sank deeper into me how much of a fool I was to believe this might work, that our story would ever be anything more than a tragedy.

Shaan rested his forehead on mine and placed a hand behind my neck. His touch was like a rush of cool rain in the sweltering heat, and I leaned into him without thinking about it. "Explain it to me then."

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