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“But I don’t know how to convince her to come back.” He rasped the words, his pride splitting down the middle to admit how inadequate he was to solve this problem. “I could guilt her into returning, and you know she would…but how do we fix this without robbing her of her choices? I need to get a binding stone to make a proper proposal—”
Trap leaped out of her seat and smacked her palms flat against the table as she leaned to stare down the table at him.
“None of this will matter at all if you don’t first catch the girl,” she snapped at him. She had a bit of heat in her cheeks and a glint in her eye. “If you’re going to make this right, you need to go get her first. Get her, get the book, get that brother of yours…and then tell her how you feel. And I agree with Math: use your words and forget the stone. I don’t care how you say it, just do it and bring our girl home.”
A cheer erupted from the children, half of them jumping onto their benches and leaping up and down. They waved their arms as if they stood on the sidelines of a royal parade in Elysium, the ones his mother liked to organize with the streamers and trumpets and big drums.
But his tongue felt glued to the roof of his mouth. Jael worried that he wouldn’t be able to speak a word in that moment, not to save his life. And that was the crutch of it, right there. His life—and the lives of everyone here and all over Agmon—would depend on his eloquence in the next few hours.
But what if he wasn’t suited to the task? What if he caught up to Anrid—a slim chance all on its own—and couldn’t find the words to say? Or said the wrong words and drove her away?
As he stewed on the dilemma, the cheers from the children subsided into coughs. One of the little girls, a stocky thing with rather unusual lavender eyes, wobbled unsteadily on the bench and reached out to tug on Trap’s sleeve. “Missus, I don’t feel good,” she began moments before she slumped off the bench and crashed to the floor in a motionless heap.
Chapter 35
Kora threw an impressive right hook that caught one of the elves squarely on the nose. The sickening crunch of cartilage and bone reached Anrid even over where she stood. The unfortunate fellow who caught the well-aimed fist tumbled backwards with a cry, both hands covering his face. Exhilaration momentarily erased the fear from the young goblin prince’s features, but his elation was short-lived. The rest of the elvish delegation descended on him.
Anrid found herself moving before she took time to consider her course of action. She snatched at the nearest elbow and tried to pull its owner away from Kora. “Please, don’t—” But the elf shook her off and dove back into the fray. Undaunted, she threw herself after him and tried to worm her way into the struggling mass of arms and legs pulling in all directions at once. “Please, don’t hurt him!” she begged over the grunts and shouts.
Hands caught her around the waist and swung her around and out of harm’s way. “Stay out of it!” Teague hissed in her ear moments before he threw her away from the tangle of cursing, shouting elves.
She went down on one knee and managed to catch herself against a stalagmite jutting out of the ground. Instead of doing as she’d been commanded, she struggled to her feet and once again dove toward the goblin prince.
“Kora!” she shouted, her voice rising to a shriek. “Kora!”
As Kora went down, three elves on top of him and another approaching with a rope, Anrid flung herself on top of the pile and pummeled with both fists. “Let him go! Leave him alone!” The poor fellow trapped beneath her writhed to dislodge her, but she caught fistfuls of his long dark hair and pulled mercilessly.
Movement from the other side of the tangle of arms and legs brought her eyes up, but not soon enough to avoid the hand swinging toward her face. She gasped moments before a palm streaked across her cheek, the blow so violent she spun sideways and tumbled across the ground. She rolled twice before skidding to a halt. Hot tears mingled with spackles of light and shadow, the pain so great she couldn’t see anything for several agonizing moments.
White hot rage tore through her. The Bifrost snarled and struggled to reach her, to defend her, but the magic felt far away somehow…as if she’d journeyed so far it couldn’t reach her.
Shoving up on one shaky elbow, Anrid pressed a palm to her throbbing cheek as tears dripped over her eyelids and down her knuckles. She looked up to clash eyes with Talos and felt her heart shrivel beneath the weight of his disapproval, his fury.
The tangled knot of confusion in her stomach shattered beneath the knowledge that she couldn’t go through with this. No matter what was at stake, she couldn’t allow her desire to do her duty or her desire to help cause her to bind herself to someone who hurt and abused those under his care. Duty and compassion were powerful things, but they weren’t the only things that mattered in life.
What of desire and belonging and personal conviction? Was there not a place for those things, even in this harsh world?
There had to be another way for her to help her people, to protect Dagmar, to help Jael and his people.
To save Medda.
There had to be some way without forcing her to marry Talos and put herself perpetually beneath his hand.
She launched to her feet, staggering toward him, finger shaking as fury of her own rose unbidden to her lips. “Release him at once!” she spat as her hair tumbled loose around her shoulders, torn from its bindings. Her entire body felt on fire, and she hoped she was something to behold, something to fear.
But her betrothed curled his mouth in derision and raised his hand as if he meant to backhand her yet again. She threw up an arm to block the blow as Kora bellowed, “If you lay a hand on her, I’ll gut you!” A sickening sound followed this pronouncement, wrenching a cry of pain from the goblin prince.
The fool of a prince.
“Why are you doing this?” Anrid turned her attention back to Talos, who still held his arm upraised to strike her if she drew any closer.
His scowl deepened. “You will return to your charge at once, unless you wish to be beaten and hogtied along with the stone lover.”
Kora snarled and yanked against the hands pinning him to his knees. They had him hunched forward, arms stretched to both sides. One of the younger elves yanked a fistful of his white hair to tip his head back and expose the unprotected region of his throat. His Adam’s apple bobbed as Kora swallowed, eyes locking with hers.
She saw regret, fear, resignation…and warning? He shook his head and flicked his gaze toward Medda’s sling abandoned in the corner of the cavern.
Anrid took a step back, arms still raised to defend herself if needed. Talos made an approving sound in the back of his throat as he clutched the magical book to his chest. “That’s a good girl.” His voice caught somewhere between croon and sneer. “Perhaps there’s a mark of sense in you after all. Remember your place and do as you’re told.”
