hope they haven’t had a trial for him yet, because the first thing I want to do when I’m back is really let him know how I feel. Then, I want to explain just what he was risking for all of Midscape, too, by hiding me. No one in Capton seems to really understand what’s happening behind the Fade.
The city is quiet. Lampposts shimmer with blue fire, giving everything a sapphire-crusted sheen. The houses are just as tall as my brownstone in Capton, if not taller. I can see the dark shops of milliners, cabinetmakers, smiths, and cobblers—all the trades one would expect to find in a city, but the wares in their windows have me slowing my steps despite myself.
Elf goods are rare in Capton, and extremely precious. Here, my elf-made kettle is just a kettle. I see another one just like it in a silversmith’s shop window as I pass.
Everything I once saw as exotic, precious, and magical is common in Midscape. From blue flames to cool magic and all-too-perfect architecture that spires into wicked points on many of the buildings, it’s a land that somehow feels like both home and anything but.
A few nighttime revelers are milling about, but they keep their distance. I mostly avoid the taverns where they seem to be congregating. I rake my hair over my ears, trying to hide the fact they aren’t pointed like everyone else’s here.
I see the occasional city guard patrolling in pairs of two—their outfits just like those who arrived in Capton with Eldas. But it’s a peaceful night. Everyone keeps mostly to themselves and no one casts suspicion my way.
Laughter and shouting echoes across the lake, catching my attention. I look to see Harrow and his friends emerging from a dimly lit alleyway. Harrow is suspended between the two men. Aria twirls around them, laughing and prodding at his limp form.
I walk faster.
When I arrive at the end of the stairway that leads into the mountain tunnel Eldas and I emerged from, I pause. There’s no stealthy way to ascend. It’s a strip of pale moonlight leading all the way up.
Looking back, I can barely make out the vines on the side of the castle, like a green ribbon unfurled from the window. They’ll know by dawn that I’ve sneaked out. But shrinking the vines back down to a rose was a risk I didn’t want to take. I need my strength for whatever is about to come next.
Yes, they’ll know I ran. So the best thing I can do is get a far enough head start. If I can make it to Capton tonight, then I can explain that I’ve held up my part of the bargain here and the council will hopefully shelter me. Maybe Luke—for all I loathe the idea of working with him—still knows a way to conceal me. Or maybe there can be an exception made for the fact that a sleepy little coastal town needs a healer desperately.
I take a deep breath and begin running.
Elves don’t cross the Fade for anything other than the rare trade of goods, wives, or war. There’s no reason a lone elf would be leaving the city at this time of night. I have no doubt Eldas personally picks who can cross the Fade and when. I run as fast as I can and pray no one sees.
I don’t stop running as I plunge into the earthy darkness of the tunnel. I sprint into the obsidian mist that blots out the light. I nearly run headlong into a tree, stopping at the last second as it emerges from seemingly out of nowhere.
With two hands I prevent myself from smashing my nose on the trunk. I lean back and look around. The light from the city of the elves has vanished. Sentient darkness surrounds me.
I don’t remember taking any turns when Eldas escorted me through the Fade. But perhaps we did. I step around the tree and move forward more slowly and deliberately this time.
It’s only possible to see a few feet in front of me at a time. All visibility has vanished and now it is as if I am the light. I am the only entity that is real here. Everything beyond me is shadow and nightmares.
The damp moss sags beneath my feet. I look for stones and signs of the temple pathways. I’ve been walking for a while now, haven’t I? Though perhaps it seems longer because I’m alone. I am very, very alone.