even my Dokkalfar eyesight couldn’t pierce those shadows, and he wasn’t making a single sound. I could smell him a little, though. And it wasn’t a bad smell, either—like wood smoke and burned sage. I breathed it in. There was almost something alluring about it, despite how terrifying he’d appeared.
I sat on the stone bench, trying to work out a plan. Apparently, the guard hadn’t seen me as much of a threat, because he’d hardly searched me. For safekeeping, I’d stashed the vergr crystal in my shoe—a possible route out of here, I had thought, if I could manage it.
And yet it couldn’t get me out of here. I’d already tried.
About twenty minutes earlier, I’d slipped the crystal between the cell bars. I’d actually escaped my cell and walked to either end of the cellblock, only to find the doors to the block were solid and locked. There was no way to get my crystal through, so I was stuck here for now.
Unfortunately, waiting for someone to open the door so I could toss the stone through meant sweating in my winter coat. The acrylic fur was making my neck itch, the fake goatskin trapping in the heat. But there wouldn’t be time to throw it on if the door creaked open.
I searched the darkness for my prison buddy again—the terrifying man with the cold eyes who seemed like he might eat my soul. Nothing.
“Skalei,” I whispered, and the knife appeared. I wasn’t sure what I’d do with it; I just felt better with it in my hand. The blade was magically sharp, and it could slice through the flesh of my enemies in an instant. Not, unfortunately, troll arms or iron bars.
I began to hum the Rick Roll song as I flipped the blade in my hand. Five full rotations of razor-sharp steel. Once with my eyes opened, once with them closed. An old assassin’s habit to pass the time.
I hoped a guard would be showing up at some point with food. That was when I’d make my move. Although there was every possibility they planned to let me starve down here. Might explain the stench of death.
Just as I raised Skalei for another toss, light and voices flooded the cellblock.
“In with Marroc?” came a feminine voice, followed by tinkling laugher. “That is brilliant. She’s probably pissed herself with fear.”
I was getting the impression that they had no idea who I was.
Another voice, this one masculine but still with the mellifluous tone of the High Elves: “I still can’t believe Father sent us down here. This place is vile.”
“Sune, you know how he is. He only trusts his own family. I, for one, am honored to do as he asks.” The woman’s tone dripped with sarcasm.
I peered between the bars, and my stomach sank. A trio of High Elves had entered the cell block. If I threw my crystal, they’d almost certainly catch me.
So, instead of escaping, I watched as the High Elves walked down the corridor between the cells. Leading the way was a stocky guard with blond eyebrows. He tried to look confident, but his knuckles were white on the hilt of his sword.
Behind him walked a pair of taller elves—a man and a woman. They were dressed in the ivory robes preferred by nobility, and both wore a thin hawthorn-wood wand on their hip. The woman was beautiful, with the honey-colored hair and eyes typical of their kind. The man, however, looked too pale, like he’d faded in the sun.
I slid Skalei next to the crystal in my shoe to hide it as they drew closer to me. I tried to look peaceful when the trio stopped in front of my cell, folding my hands in my lap.
“You’re the one who tried to break into Silfarson’s?” asked the woman. Her voice was musical but unmistakably hostile, like a flute played in a minor key.
She irritated me already.
I sighed. “I successfully broke into Silfarson’s.”
“You know, she’s technically right, Revna.” The man laughed. I recognized the voice as Sune’s. “She was caught escaping from the bank.”
“Semantics,” she snapped. I regretted my impetuousness, considering her expression said she’d love an excuse to rip my throat out.
Sune’s eyes narrowed. “Tell us why you tried to rob the bank.”
I shrugged, feigning nonchalance. I couldn’t let on the truth. “Because I want to be rich.”
Revna arched an eyebrow. “Even Night Elves aren’t stupid enough to break into our banks without a good reason. We know your name. Ali, daughter of Volundar.”