Traitor (20 page)

Jace took it better than I expected, though. He only cussed at me a few times. Sitting on his pallet again, angrily lacing his boots and vambraces up, he shot me several scathing glares. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me any of this before?”

“I didn’t tell many people,” I admitted. “I was afraid of what would happen, or that I’d be accused of being a traitor for something that isn’t my fault. I can’t help what I am, or what I can do. The dreams I had were terrifying to me. And I had no way of knowing what they were supposed to mean.”

He didn’t look sympathetic. He shot me another punishing look and stood up to buckle his kidney belt around his waist. “And now we’re stuck here with the savages, being held captive until they decide to butcher us again.”

“I don’t think that’ll happen,” I said. “We’re not captives anymore.”

“You aren’t,” he corrected me and put an accusing finger in my face. “I’m still the one who murdered three of the king’s sons. The magical elf rock didn’t choose me, idiot.”

I scowled back. “You think I’d just toss you to the wolves? I’ve already stuck my neck out for you. Araxie wanted to let you die. I wouldn’t allow it.”

He snorted. “Maybe you should have.”

“My sentiments exactly,” a sarcastic female voice chimed in. Araxie was standing in the doorway, her hips cocked arrogantly. She was looking at Jace appraisingly, like she was sizing him up in case she found a good excuse to kill him later.

He started to glare bitterly back at her, his lip curled into a challenging sneer. But for whatever reason, he seemed to have a hard time keeping that expression up for very long. Maybe it had something to do with the way the light of our oil lamps made her darkly tanned skin gleam like bronze. Or maybe it was the way her long, platinum colored hair flowed over her chest all the way to her narrow, bare midriff.

Whatever it was—the longer Jace stared, the less angry he looked. I saw him swallow stiffly.

Araxie obviously wasn’t as impressed with him. She just made a dismissive
pfft
sound and looked right back at me. “My father desires that you come and join us tonight for a feast in your honor. You and your human pet.”

Jace growled a few profane words under his breath that I couldn’t quite make out. He turned around and started angrily fidgeting with his sheath and twin swords.

“We’ll be there,” I told her.

The princess flicked a quick, spiteful smirk at Jace’s back. “Excellent. I hope you’ll both enjoy our hospitality.”

“I’ve had about all of their hospitality I can stand,” Jace muttered after she had gone. “That little witch is just waiting for a chance to put a blade through my neck. You just wait. They’ll find some excuse to do it. I’ll be roasting on a rotisserie with a big fat apple in my mouth by nightfall.”

I smirked and shook my head. “On the contrary, Jace. I think you like her.”

The whole village had worked tirelessly all day to prepare for this feast, and they wouldn’t let me lift a finger to help. A bonfire was built in the middle of the courtyard, stacked high with the pieces of my golem that couldn’t be used for anything else. By the time it began to grow dark, things were beginning to get lively. Lanterns were lit throughout the tree-born huts and walkways, making the jungle around us sparkle like a sea of warm yellow stars. Slabs of meat from the graulers had been marinated in fruit juices and herbs and now sizzled over red-hot coals. Barrels of wine and strange smelling breads were passed around.

A group of older men and women were playing bizarre pipe instruments and beating on drums. They filled the clearing with music, which in turn got the young women dancing. Children ran to and fro, chasing each other and laughing. Young men and warriors sat together in small groups, talking and eyeing me from afar. I couldn’t tell if they were just curious or trying to decide if I was a rival or not.

Jace must have been incredibly nervous. I couldn’t think of any other reason he’d stick so close to my side as we approached the festivities. I’d managed to talk him out of carrying his weapons, since that would definitely send the wrong message. He wasn’t happy about it. Not one teensy bit. And I had a sneaking suspicion that he was sticking so close to me not because I made him feel any safer—but because he planned on using me as a living shield if things went badly.

Blankets and furs had been spread out on the ground for everyone to get comfortable on. I found a place next to Araxie to sit down, but I still didn’t see her father anywhere. She smiled at me, and passed another quick, unenthusiastic look at Jace who sat down on my other side and began to sulk.

Araxie was dressed in fancier, more intricate clothes than usual. Although, they still showed way more female skin than I was used to seeing. There were colorful feathers and beads woven into her hair, and a bit of red paint dabbed onto her lips and in a pretty flower design on her forehead. Long dangling earrings made of hammered copper hung from her pointed ears, and there was a string of crudely cut precious stones around her neck. Most of the young women were dressed up sort of like that, but her attire was decidedly more extravagant. It marked her as a notch above the rest on the social ladder.

“Father should be here soon,” she said as she passed me a goblet of what smelled like some sort of sweet, fruity wine. “Does your pet want anything?”

Jace’s jaw clenched as though he were gritting his teeth. He scowled, crossed his arms, and looked away. Thankfully, he didn’t retort. Since I wasn’t interested in repeating my last experience with alcohol, I passed the goblet of wine to him. He sniffed it, curled his lip, but took a drink anyway.

When King Erandur finally made an appearance, the music fell silent. No one spoke or moved, apart from leaning so they could get a glimpse of him. I thought at first it was only because he hadn’t come out of his chambers in several days.

I was wrong, though.

The king had cut his hair. All those flowing locks of silvery white were gone. His hair was as short as mine now, lopped off right at his chin.

“Why did he do that?” I gave Araxie an uncomfortable glance because I had a feeling it had something to do with me.

“To express his shame and sorrow for what was done to you,” she whispered.

The king didn’t look happy at all about being here as he made his way to where we were sitting. Araxie scooted away from me, offering him the seat of honor between us. But before he could sit down, I decided I needed to do something to smooth things over.

I stood up swiftly and stepped toward the king. He regarded me with a wide-eyed, cautious expression and hesitated, as though he wasn’t sure what to expect from me. Granted, I probably did look much more intimidating now that I wasn’t beaten to a pulp. I was younger, a lot taller, and far more muscular than he was.

Sitting on the ground behind me, Araxie was watching me like a hawk. In fact, everyone in the whole village seemed to be holding their breath to see what I was going to do.

“Lapiloque—” the elven king began to address me.

I hugged him.

Sure, I was well within my right to be furious for what he had put me through. He’d nearly killed me. No amount of chopped off hair was going to fix that. And yet I wanted to get past this somehow. I wanted to get to know him. He was family.

King Erandur was completely stiff. It was like embracing a corpse. So I didn’t force-hug him for long. I squeezed him once, just for good measure, and stood back to smile.

“I’m glad to officially meet you, Uncle,” I said.

Erandur’s mouth was hanging wide open. It was awkward. I could tell he was struggling to regain some of his composure. At last, he extended a hand toward me with uncertainty written all over his face. “I am … pleased to have the honored Lapiloque amongst my people again.”

Araxie giggled. She was smiling from one pointed ear to the other. I guess from where she was sitting, it looked like things were going well. That was reassuring.

I wasn’t so sure, though. The king wouldn’t acknowledge me as a blood relative. I didn’t know if that was because I was expected to act as Lapiloque first, and as family second—or if it was because he still harbored a lot of resentment toward my mother.

I hoped to get to the bottom of that as we all sat down again. The music resumed, and the villagers began passing around big platters and bowls of food. It was a different way of eating a meal than I’d experienced before. They didn’t make themselves a plate—they just ate a few bites off the platters as they were passed around over and over.

The food was delicious, though, and even Jace seemed to be enjoying it. He never said that out loud, of course, but I noticed he was eating a lot. He also apparently liked their sweet wine, too, because he refilled his cup four times before I lost count.

The feast also brought out a side of the gray elves I’d never seen before. Young women in their flashy, revealing clothes danced together before the light of the roaring fire. They smiled and swayed their hips in teasing ways, stopping only long enough to pull other people up to join in. It didn’t take long for the men to take them up on that offer. They approached me, too. Thankfully, I was able to respectfully bow out of every invitation. I had a good excuse. Despite lots of practice and coaching, I was a horrible dancer, and the way the gray elves did it was even more bizarre than what I’d attempted before.

Araxie had been sitting quietly beside her father while we ate and drank, but her eyes never left the dancers who were frolicking in the firelight. When another pretty elf woman came over to invite us to join in, she jumped up and linked arms with her. The two women giggled and wandered back toward the bonfire, disappearing into the crowds.

Now I was alone with Jace and the king—neither of which were making for very good company so far. Jace was scowling at the dancers, although I noticed his eyes were scanning the crowds like he was watching someone in particular. The king, on the other hand, had produced a long wooden pipe and was puffing smoke rings over the rim of his wine glass.

Great. Lucky me.

After what felt like an eternity of sitting next to each other and awkwardly avoiding eye contact, King Erandur finally spoke up, “My daughter speaks very highly of you.”

I spotted Araxie through the moving crowds. She was smiling and moving with the music. The firelight gleamed off her silk clothes and jewelry. “I feel as though I haven’t done anything to deserve that kind of loyalty from her. But I’m thankful. I owe her a lot already.”

“She is a good judge of character,” he said as he puffed another smoke ring. “Far better than I am, it would seem.”

As long as he was talking, I decided this was as good a time as any to start trying to get some answers. Too bad there wasn’t a smooth way to broach that topic. “I’m sure I don’t have to tell you that there’s a lot we need to talk about.”

“Yes. I know.” His reply was hushed and somber. When I turned to meet his gaze, I was surprised to catch him staring at me with that mournful look in his eyes again.

“I hate to spoil the party, but there’s a lot of people losing their lives in a war that—as best I can tell—my father is responsible for. I’d like to do what I can to put an end to it.” I wasn’t going to try to justify what Ulric had done. He didn’t deserve that.

“Answer me this first.” Erandur began studying me intensely. “How did my sister die?”

I let my gaze wander back toward the bonfire. Talking about my mom was still difficult. And it was even harder to do it with someone like Erandur, even if he was her brother. “Of a sickness. I honestly don’t remember much beyond that. I was young, and losing her meant I had to go live with my human father, who had nothing but hatred for me.”

The king sat quietly, as though he were reflecting on those words.

When he didn’t speak up, I kept talking. I realized this was my chance to argue my mother’s case and heal some old wounds. “We lived in a refugee ghetto in the royal city. Our house was tiny, but she could make anywhere feel like home. She grew things all the time. Our house was always filled with all sorts of flowers and vegetables. She never told me anything about you, or Araxie, or that she was the Lapiloque. When she gave me this necklace, I had no idea it meant anything at all.”

“That is the totem of the Lapiloque,” Erandur explained. “It is passed on to whoever inherits the gift. Legend says that it is carved from the bone of Paligno.”

I instinctively ran my hand over the smooth, white bone pendant. “It’s the only piece of my mother I have left.”

“And the human man? Your father? Did she marry him?” His voice was stiff.

I frowned. “No.”

“Did she love him?”

That was a difficult question for me to think about. As a child, I’d never paid much attention to which men my mother seemed to prefer, so I had to think it over. “Ulric had another family. He had a human wife and children. Whatever relationship he had with my mother began and ended with me—at least, that was the impression I was always given. I already told you how he felt about me. I never saw any evidence that he felt any differently about my mother. He never talked about her at all. And she never told me that she cared for him, either.”