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Nivira wasn’t so certain, but she hummed softly in agreement and didn’t pry too closely at the note of uncertainty within her sister’s voice. It would be fine. It was the middle of the day, and they were safely within the carnival. There was no reason to be concerned. The tension eased from her shoulders, and she lifted her needles again, their soft click soothing as she slowly began on her new weave. This would be something excellent, she was sure.
ChapterThirty-Three
Raskyuil frowned impatiently as he watched Elwyn dig through the papers piled on the small table beside him with his brows drawn low over his narrow nose as he muttered quietly to himself. He bit back a growl of irritation as his eyes followed the male from one pile to the next.
Naturally, he hadn’t been informed as to the reason he was waiting or why his presence was even required when the aelf was clearly busy with something else that had nothing to do with him. He snorted irritably. And supposedly he was summoned for a matter of some importance too. This was a waste of his time. He could have spent his afternoon fucking his mate. It would have been a more productive use of his time in any case.
Completely oblivious to his rising annoyance, Elwyn shuffled a few more papers into another pile before glancing up at him as if, somehow, he were the one at fault for whatever was missing.
“Can you not make yourself useful?” he snapped.
Raskyuil blinked slowly as he considered the male. “If I recall, my duties begin only when the carnival opens for the night and end upon closing,” he replied coolly. “As this is my free time, perhaps you should enlighten me as to what you think I should be doing.”
Elwyn paused, and Raskyuil watched in fascination as the faintest hint of pink climbed into his cheeks before he spun around and snapped a book up from the table and began to hastily flip pages.
“Your job is what I say it is,” the aelf sneered as he peered down at the fanning pages and snapped the book shut with a quiet snarl. Setting the book back down, he lifted his pale eyes briefly to peer over at him. “Have you any word regarding the vampires?”
Raskyuil grimly shook his head. “Barok, Lushen, and I looked all around the grounds with the help of several of the goblins. We didn’t find anything that would suggest any reason someone would have done that, or who may be behind it. I’m not confident that we will find our answers in town either. This seems like a calculated strike on the carnival. If there is any animosity against us, I am not sure it will be easily discovered.”
Barok and his brother Lushen had agreed with him, but he kept that to himself. Noble aelves typically didn’t care to hear the opinions of orcs and made no secret about the fact—or any of the races of fae they considered “lesser” unless they were specifically assigned to gathering information. That wasn’t precisely Raskyuil’s job, but he suspected that his opinion was only tolerated because he answered for the carnival’s security as a whole. Otherwise, he doubted the aelf would have had much use for anything he had to say either.
“I’m not worried about the towns,” Elwyn replied dismissively as he peered around the room with a thoughtful look on his face.
“Oh?” Raskyuil replied inquisitively, his arms crossing over his chest. “And why is that?”
The male chuckled, his gaze darting briefly toward him again before resuming his search. “You have not been with us long enough to understand what we do for these miserable towns. We bring them a little magic and adventure, a little thrill.” He smirked and shook his head. “There is not one person in any of the towns who would threaten us. They would be lost without us to enliven their dreary little lives.”
“But itwasa threat,” Raskyuil replied slowly, his eyes following the aelf as he watched him closely.
Elwyn’s lips pursed as he picked up another book. “Perhaps—or perhaps it was someone who has a grudge against vampires and our grounds just happened to be a convenient place to dispose of them. But I do wish to make sure that there is no danger to us, naturally… ah!” He crooned triumphantly, withdrawing a page filled with golden script. “I knew I had it in here. The Wail of Terseriel, I knew it would be among Arch-Mage Hurandor’s papers. It will be the perfect beginning to Hallow Night!”
Raskyuil, feigning disinterest, gave the paper a curious glance. “The what?”
Anything hidden in the archives of an arch-mage didn’t sound like anything anyone should play with. Moreover, while he had heard of the dark aelven sorcerer, Terseriel, he could not imagine what possible benefit could arise from any of the male’s accursed magic. The very name sent chills up his spine. Such magic was the last thing any of them needed. But what if it was connected to the spell? Having heard the legends of Terseriel, he wouldn’t put anything past the sorcerer when it came to deviant magic.
The aelf’s mouth curled into a disdainful smirk. “I suppose a troll would not know anything of Terseriel and the dark litany of his song.”
“No,” Raskyuil agreed flatly. “We forest trolls are raised to care for little beyond bathing in mud when we’re not eating anything in the woods that we can get our hands on. I know nothing of this Terseriel.”
And clearly Elwyn knew less than he thought if he truly believed that. Did he truly not know how Terseriel met his end? Every troll worth their salt and ax knew of the sorcerer—they would never be able to forget the one whom they had protected from the aelven kingdoms and foolishly sheltered within their woods.
Raskyuil nearly laughed, however, at the look of revulsion that crossed the other male’s face.
“I am hardly shocked,” Elwyn muttered as he opened a thin book and set the page inside of it before snapping it shut. “I will not bother with any lengthy explanations suffice to say that I managed to acquire the arch-mage’s library at considerable personal cost, all for the hope of acquiring this specific spell. The carnival is impressive, but it needs to reach its next stage of evolution. To extend the radius of its influence even farther, drawing forth all those in need of its dreams. And that can finally happen now that we have this spell. There is more to be done, but it will just be a matter of waiting until the appointed hour of the Hallow Night. And it is that for which I require your assistance.”
“It doesn’t sound like something within my job description,” Raskyuil drawled as he hunted for and located a cigar in his jacket and tucked it between his teeth.
Elwyn gave him a hard glare. “I will pay you handsomely in return for this… excess.” He suddenly huffed, disgruntled. “I will not be asking for much in return. I will fill your pockets with fairy coin, more than you can possibly spend on your fragile little mate.”
Raskyuil raised a brow, suspicious. “For what exactly?” he growled around his cigar.
A sour look crossed the aelf’s face. “Just acquire what I need in town… nothing more, nothing less. And you will be generously compensated.”
He grinned and struck a fire with a flick of his claws, enjoying the look of frustration from the other male. It was not a bad bargain. It would not only help him take care of his mate but it would keep him abreast of what Elwyn was doing and potentially closer to understanding what was happening within the carnival itself. If there were a chance that the aelf was hiding the younglings, he could catch wind of it if he was in a trusted position.
He dragged on his cigar and nodded, noting the disgust on Elowyn’s face as his eyes narrowed on the cigar. It was a small pleasure made even more enjoyable by the fact that his pretense of being oblivious would further frustrate without coming back on him. After all, Elwyn did think that trolls were particularly stupid, and Raskyuil was more than happy to play into that stereotype.
“Very well,” Raskyuil growled at last. “Provide me with a list and I will see to it.”
