Death Wind (Elven Alliance #3) - Tara Grayce Page 0,4
the person who best understood how to meld elven and human cultures since she had been doing just that for the past three months. Julien would need her help to find his way around Ellonahshinel, at least for the first while. And she wasn’t about to miss Julien’s and Edmund’s first visit to Estyra. At least, she assumed it was Edmund’s first visit. If he had been there before, that trip was classified and officially didn’t exist.
It would hurt being in Estyra without Farrendel. She had been there alone before during the times Farrendel had been called away to fight raiding trolls.
But even though he had been going into battle, she had never truly doubted he would return. He was Laesornysh, an elven title meaning Death on the Wind.
This time, he wasn’t coming back unless she went and got him.
She raised her chin, meeting Averett’s gaze with as much bravado as she could muster. “I’m fine, Avie. I’ll go to Estyra with Julien and Edmund. They’ll need me to show them around.”
Edmund rested his arm around her shoulders. “We’ll take care of her.”
“All right.” Averett nodded, shifting like he wanted to give her a hug. “I’ll come to Tarenhiel myself just as soon as I can, assuming that is acceptable to King Weylind. It would probably be best if I were there to keep the army leadership in hand.”
“It is acceptable to me.” Weylind nodded. “Mutual trust or mutual destruction.”
In other words, if Weylind was going to put himself on the line inviting Escarlish army officers to Estyra to plan the invasion, then Averett needed to be at risk as well. Neither side would start anything with their kings present. At least, that was the idea, anyway.
Jalissa straightened her shoulders. “In that case, I will return to Aldon with the Escarlish king. We need an elven representative in Escarland to answer any questions that might arise.”
“We would be happy to continue to host you, Princess Jalissa, and will gladly accept any assistance you can provide.” Averett gave her a regal nod.
Edmund smiled past Essie toward Jalissa, but something in his expression wasn’t as relaxed as it normally was.
Essie resisted a frown. Edmund had been flirting with Jalissa from the moment she’d arrived, but was it more serious than Essie realized? It was hard to tell with Edmund. Or with Jalissa, to be honest.
But at this point, neither of them would probably pursue anything. All of them would be too busy planning and carrying out this war.
With Tarenhiel and Escarland working together, the trolls wouldn’t know what hit them.
One day earlier...
THIS WAS NOT going as planned.
Melantha, princess of the elves of Tarenhiel, fumed. It would have been so satisfying to scream or stamp her foot or somehow release this rage boiling her blood and heating her skin.
But an elven princess did not scream or pound her fist or in any way display such uncomely emotions. Elven princesses were serene. Calm as the still water of a morning lake.
Not the roiling, seething storm Melantha was and had been for nearly as long as she could remember.
If that human princess had not gotten away, none of this would have happened. Melantha could have gone back to her family, put on a proper show of mourning for the loss of her brother and his human wife, and start the process of finally building a life free of the scandal of Farrendel’s illegitimate birth.
Instead, she stood at the border of Tarenhiel and the trolls’ kingdom of Kostaria, and there was a very good chance the trolls were not going to let her go.
Prince Rharreth of the trolls gripped her elbow, steering her from the platform that formed the end of the train line across Tarenhiel toward the thin stretch of evergreen forest separating the train platform from the Gulmorth River, the foaming stretch of water that separated Tarenhiel from Kostaria.
“There is a guard post ahead. You will never get through with only three of you.” Melantha had to trot at an undignified pace to keep up with the troll’s long stride. Perhaps if he released her arm long enough to fight, she could disappear into the forest and return home.
The troll just glanced down at her, his eyes a hard dark blue against the gray of his skin. His white hair was cropped short, revealing his tapered ears. He plucked a mountain goat horn from where it hung on his belt and blew into it. A deep, sonorous note rang through the forest.