The word falls between us as we turn the corner and moonlight sweeps across an odd, branchless tree that appears to be sprouting…arms. Eloise gasps when we draw closer, her hand cupping her mouth.
“Is that? Oh my God, Damien, it’s a man, strung up by his feet!” She hops off Borus and runs to the body, placing her fingers on his neck. I already know he’s dead.
“This is an execution,” I tell her, dismounting and drawing closer to the blood-covered face. “I’ve seen this before. Sadly, this is what passes for justice among dark elves. They use light to keep their victims from shifting, then hang them from a tree by their feet before slitting their throats. It’s a painful and slow way for a shade to die.”
“Help me cut him down.”
I draw Dawnbreaker and sever the thick ropestringing up the dead man, then grunt as the body hits the ground. Although he can’t feel it, it’s hard to watch.
“What’s this?” A small object tumbled from the man’s pocket when he hit the ground, and she holds it up to the light. It’s a small wooden carving of a stag. “A toy? Do you think he had children?”
I stare at the tiny stag, then look back at the man.
“What is it? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Eloise places a hand on my shoulder, a hand I don’t recognize as we are both still disguised.
I swallow hard before answering. “The stag is familiar. Not this stag, particularly, but the type of carving.” I shake my head. “I think I know this man.” I kneel beside the body, but the face is so swollen and caked in blood that I can’t be sure.
“Eloise, could you?” I gesture toward the man.
A snap of her fingers and the blood is gone, the face slightly less swollen. That’s when I know for sure. I grunt in miserable recognition.
“Who is it?”
“The owner of the general store in Bolvet.”
“No,” Eloise says with a low, melancholy release of breath. “Wasn’t he the only one successfully smuggling food and other goods into the village?”
I nod. “And he has children. Children I believe he was raising alone.” I stand and turn back toward the tree, running my hands over the bark.
“What if the children are waiting? What if they’re alone?” she says more to herself than to me.
I find a lump under the bark and dig my fingers in.
“What are you doing?”
“When the elves execute someone, they usually list thecharges and post them on the tree. Ah, here it is.” My fingers catch on the corner of a folded piece of parchment, and I slowly work it out from behind the bark. The thick paper unrolls in my hands, and my stomach turns when I see the decorative crest at the top. “This was issued by New Stygarde, not Willowgulch.”
Scowling, Eloise comes to my side for a better look.
“It says he was convicted of hunting the queen’s stags without permission and therefore was sentenced to death. The order is signed by King Brahm.”
“So, they starve their own people and then execute them when they try to hunt food for their children?” Eloise is spitting mad. Streaks of red cut through the illusion of her dark hair.
“Careful, little bird,” I whisper, “Your anger is showing in more ways than one.” Taking a strand between my fingers, I hold it up for her to see. She glances down at the red curl, and her eyes widen. I drop the strand of hair, and it turns dark and straight again before it hits her shoulder.
“We need to take his body home, Damien, check on his children. Maybe Ariadne will know someone in the village who can take them in.”
“I agree.” I bend down to lift the man into my arms and then drape his lifeless body across Borus’s back. “I’ll walk. You ride Romulus.”
Thankfully, she doesn’t argue with me about riding, but then she knows the world we live in by now. Knows we can’t draw unwanted attention.
“Do you know his name?” Eloise asks softly.
“No.”
We fall into silence, the weight of loss heavy between us. We did not know this man well, but he was ours, acitizen of Stygarde, murdered by his own king. I can see in her eyes that she feels it too, the pain of having failed him somehow. We are already on borrowed time. Tolerating Brahm and Nevina on the throne has cost us the lives of just citizens.
At last, the forest opens, and I gaze upon the city of Bolvet, a place I haven’t seen in months, since we came here to buy Eloise her wardrobe. I have to stop to make sure what I’m seeing is real.
