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“You go. I will stay and hold them off,” I say to the soz’garoth.
“This is madness!” Kryon shouts, and when he turns to me, I can see the fury in his eyes.
“You have a death wish over a human woman!” Denzig mutters, equally furious.
“I also need to protect the tome,” I remind them sagely. I have realized why the elves are in the village. “Why do you think the elves are here?”
“But you cannot hold them off on your own!” The soz’garoth calls.
“I will do what I can. I will try to hide the tome.” I suggest.
“Get instructions from the King and return quickly. Do not forsake me!”
EIGHTEEN
TESSA
The dark elf is beautiful, I must admit. But as he flips through the pages of the Tome of Ledantis, I can see the beauty slip.
It reveals something horrifying. The face of a cold-blooded killer.
The face of someone you only read about in horror stories.
I had always known dark elves were the most vicious beings around. But seeing one up close without his glamour is chilling.
“Well,” he says, getting up and closing the book carefully. “We will be going now. I can smell the orcs and naga close by.”
“Naga?” I said, shocked. My throat is still dry.
Maybe if I ask nicely, I can have some water before I die.
I hear the commotion then, loud, sharp, and blaring. It’s so loud that it sounds as though it’s in the room with us.
I wince, covering my ears, and the sorcerer elf looks at me with sharp eyes.
The noise is the sound of every villager discovering that we are under attack by naga and orcs. And maybe they have discovered that there are dark elves in the village too.
I can feel the fear of the villagers seeping into my bedroom. The fear runs hot and cold. It shudders and slows at the same time.
I’m completely human and have never had magical abilities. But for a second, I can feel the frantic heartbeat of every human in the village.
And it’s horrible. It’s like feeling the frantic flapping of a thousand Pavos right in the middle of my chest.
A wave of dizziness rushes over me, and I swallow convulsively, closing my eyes and curling my hands into fists.
The pain of my nails digging into the flesh of my palms helped calm me down, and I opened my eyes.
When I do, the intensity of the villagers’ fear has subsided. And the dark elf is looking at me with sympathy.
“Fear before death is different for everyone, my dear.” He says. His voice is almost soothing.
“Will it hurt?” I’m not sure why I’m asking. The dark elves are notorious for their love of pain.
He smiles, still sympathetically, and shakes his head once.
“Let us not dwell on that. It will be over before you know it. The orcs and the naga are quite close by. Bring the book. It won’t allow me to carry it.”
When we leave my bedroom, my parents are nowhere to be found.
