Death Wind (Elven Alliance #3) - Tara Grayce Page 0,40

Farrendel right back into his tormentors’ hands.

She could not undo what she had done. But she would not allow her father’s sacrifice to be in vain. Somehow, she would make sure Farrendel survived this, no matter what it cost her. Perhaps it would be best if she died here. Better for her family to mourn her after she had given her life to save Farrendel’s than for them to try to decide what to do with a living, traitorous sister.

Leaving the bars, she stalked across the room and sat on the one wool blanket she had been provided. She needed a plan.

About an hour later, the door at the end of the passageway opened again, and Prince Rharreth strode inside, carrying two bowls of the stew that seemed to be the only thing the trolls served their prisoners. He set one bowl on the floor outside her cell while he opened the locking bar.

Melantha stood a few feet from the door, back straight, her hands clasped in front of her where he would be able to see them. This was a battle she intended to win, and that started with appearing cooperative and meek.

He held the bowl of stew out to her.

She did not take it. “Prince Rharreth, I respectfully request to be allowed to tend to my brother.”

He raised a thick, white eyebrow at her. “Why should I allow this?”

She kept her tone even, her face serene. She had a lot of practice hiding her inner turmoil. “My healing was rushed earlier. I should examine him to make sure there is not more internal bleeding that I missed earlier.”

Prince Rharreth studied her face with his dark eyes, and she had a feeling he was seeing right through to her true motives.

So what if he did. Melantha clenched her hands. He could refuse her. If he were as cruel as his brother, he would.

But she did not think he was that cruel.

“I am a healer. I cannot break stones with my magic. I cannot free him. I have taken the oath of a healer, a magical binding so strong I would likely die myself if I attempted violence against you or anyone.” Melantha let some of her anger seep into her voice as she pointed in the direction of Farrendel’s cell. “All I can do is provide him with a little comfort. Surely you will not deny him that. You claim to be honorable, but can you truly call it honor to torture even an enemy like this? You would not keep a rabid animal in the deplorable conditions that my brother is currently suffering.”

Something flashed through Prince Rharreth’s eyes a moment before he glanced away from her. His broad shoulders were tense beneath his leather jerkin.

Melantha suppressed her reaction. She had guessed right. Prince Rharreth did not approve of Farrendel’s treatment. “And you call me despicable. At least I am willing to do something.”

His jaw tightened, his fingers flexing on her bowl of stew. “Very well. I will allow you to examine him.”

She resisted the urge to breathe a sigh of relief. She could not let him see how much she wanted this or that it was just the beginning of her plan.

Prince Rharreth thrust her bowl at her, and this time she took it. He spun on his heels. “Come.”

She snatched her blanket from the floor, draped it over her arm, then hurried after the troll prince. She paused to retrieve Farrendel’s bowl of cooling, watery stew from the floor, then quickened her pace as much as she could without sloshing the stew. It would not do to waste even a drop when they were already given so little.

Prince Rharreth unbarred Farrendel’s cell door and waited for her at the door, his expression stony.

This time, Melantha took a moment to take a deep breath and brace herself before stepping inside.

Her deep breath had not been enough. Last time, she had been in too much panic to notice the details. This time, the smell struck her first. The trolls so feared Farrendel they did not even allow him to take care of the most basic of needs.

She would not allow herself to flinch. She was a healer. This was, after all, what she had trained for. She had managed to fake compassion well enough to fool her instructors into training her and allowing her to take the oath even though her heart had never been in healing. Surely she could manage it when, for the first time, she truly