Page 39 of Treasured

Prinos met my gaze. His eyes still contained traces of silver, and his voice held echoes of the strange magic his kind possessed. “They are in the east,” he rasped. “I have Seen them… searching…”

I lurched forward, grabbing the side of the bed. “Searching for what?”

He coughed. “A… key.”

I let go of the bed, my brows furrowing. “What do you mean? What key?”

“I do not know,” the Fortune Elf replied, closing his eyes once more. “The silver planes are dark, My Queen. The Dragon—”

“Do not speak to me of her!” I yelled, shoving my chair. It toppled back as I stood and leaned over the Fortune Elf. “I don’t want to hear about Ithenmyr. I want to know where my son is hiding.” My voice increased in pitch until I was yelling. I didn’t care. I’d scream all night long if it brought me the answers I sought. “Why won’t he respond to my summons? Why has he turned against me?”

There were so many questions and so few answers.

Prinos trembled, shaking his head. “The darkness is here, Your Majesty. I warned you it was coming.”

“So?”

He licked his lips. “Seeing the future is nearly impossible. The silver planes are awash in shadows, and the paths are murky.”

“I don’t care. Look again.” I bared my fangs at him. “I need my son’s exact location.”

“That’s not how it works, My Queen.” Prinos’s eyes widened. “I’m afraid if I Look again, I might Fade.”

I didn’t care if he Faded. It wasn’t my fault elves lacked the immortality of vampires. They lived for a long time, but all other species in the Four Kingdoms would eventually Fade. Shifters, elves, merfolk, werewolves, and witches could all Mature and live for centuries, but only the vampire was truly immortal.

I looked as good as I did the day I was Made.

Or at least I had until my ruby started to dim.

My nostrils flared at the reminder of the gods-damned wrinkle on my forehead, and I slammed my fist into the headboard.

“Try. Again,” I seethed. Shadows slipped from my palms, wrapping around the Fortune Elf’s neck. I squeezed my fist, slowly stealing the life from his lungs as he writhed on the bed.

Finally, he gasped, “I… shall… try.”

“Good.” The shadows slithered back into my palm, and I righted my chair, dropping back into it.

Silver shone from Prinos’s eyes, and his head fell back onto the pillow.

I wasn’t exactly sure what Fortune Elves saw when they Looked into the future, but I knew communication was futile.

Instead, I waited.

And waited.

A minute passed, becoming five, then ten.

Still, Prinos’s eyes remained silver.

Tapping my foot on the floor, I ran my finger over that wrinkle again and again until the very shape of it was engraved in my memory.

Waiting was terrible.

In the waiting, long-forgotten memories resurfaced.

My footsteps echoed as I stormed down the stone hallways of Castle Sanguis. Servants took one look at my face and paled, scurrying out of my way. Those that did not move fast enough, I shoved aside with my shadows.

Anger was a throbbing, writhing mass of hurt pulsing through my veins, making even drawing breath difficult. My fangs ached, my head throbbed, and I yearned for blood. Hearing news of war always did this to me.

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