Page 50 of Heart of Shadows

He sent his magic to sense her. She felt strange. She was magical, that was certain, but hers was weak, suppressed deep within her. He cocked his head. She seemed foreign. Her scent was other, yet her blood was elven and sang to his own, calling him closer, drawing him in. They were kin, as all elves were. How could she be elfkind, yet not? He had never met anyone like her.

When none of them replied, Dimitri suppressed a sigh. Just as he did not wish to reveal his personal interest in the Dragonheart, they did not wish to reveal they had it. He continued to circle them, keeping them constantly on guard and shifting. “The king knows his Dragonheart is missing and he wants it back,” he said casually, admiring the surroundings as though he strolled through the beautiful manicured gardens of the palace. Meanwhile, he noted with pleasure their shock and suspicion that he knew what they carried. Suspicion toward him, and perhaps toward Harper, as their emotions roiled over one another in quick succession.

“You can give it to me now, and I will leave you to your miserable existences, or I shall take it from you.”

He felt Aedon’s magic well up before he saw the elf’s crackling palms. Aedon’s companions raised their own weapons, and even the girl wielded a knife.

Dimitri laughed. “Are you going to carve me up like a roasted dinner?” he asked Harper sweetly, then leapt back as they attacked as one.

Aedon’s fireballs scorched the earth where he had stood. Any trace of mirth dropped from Dimitri’s face. Now it is my turn. He straightened his collar and glared at them. They froze, gasping as his vice-like grip of magic tightened around them, just as Saradon had done to him.

“I can crush you without a second thought. I suggest you not be so foolish next time.” After a few moments, he released them. “There. See?” he added mockingly. “That’s not so hard. I’m not a monster. I’ll give you a little time to decide.” Whilst I eliminate the competition, he thought to himself, wondering where the Tir-na-Alathean elves were. “I’ll be back.”

Dimitri faded into the void, watching with glee as their eyes widened at the sight of him vanishing into nothingness. Once he was gone, he raced away quicker than a flash of lightning, seeking a different trail—that of the Tir-na-Alathean elves.

He was almost certain they sought something different from Aedon and his outlaws, but Dimitri had to be certain. The last thing he needed was the wood elves stumbling onto his Dragonheart. They would take it into the living forest for their queen, never to be seen again. If that happened, his hopes—now more alight than ever—of crushing King Toroth, his father, and the entire blasted establishment of Pelenor would be dashed.

It was a complication he did not need, but whilst the stone lay hidden from Toroth, and other prying eyes, Dimitri would eliminate the only potential leak of information. It would be worth it to know he would be secure in the knowledge only he would have the stone’s location.

He found the wood elves not far away, nursing their wounds. Dimitri sundered their cocoon of protective magic. They were on their feet at once, casting around for the source that had broken their barrier. As they espied him, their welling attack turned into a rush of defences. Good. They knew who he was.

“What would two wood elves of Tir-na-Alathea be doing so very far from home, on a miserable day such as this?” he asked, keeping his tone light. They would know he meant business. Anyone who knew of his reputation did. As he felt their defences rising, he flicked his finger, wiping them out. “There’s no need for that. It’s a pointless waste of energy.”

Despite his words, their defences began rebuilding once again. Dimitri clenched his jaw. “Fine. You brought this on yourselves.” He had not decided how to deal with them. That depended on what they knew. He took a deep breath and shattered open their minds, walking through centuries of memories without breaking a single bead of sweat. He did not need the previous centuries. They would make for interesting perusal on another day perhaps.

He saw their Queen’s recent anger at the theft of some aleilah potion from her stockpile. Their own dogged attempts—all failures—to waylay the elf, Aedon, and his companions to recover it. Their latest skirmish. Dimitri raised an eyebrow at the bravery of Harper, despite her naïveté. She had no training, magical or otherwise. It was an unforgivable weakness for an elf, but he had already drawn the conclusion she was no normal elf. He stilled as he found the memories he needed most. Their knowledge of Aedon, their meeting with Harper, and their sudden realisation that she carried a magic more powerful than that which they sought.

They knew. His own blood sang with the first tinge of fear. He saw their desire for the Dragonheart’s powerful magic. Their wishes to take it for themselves—for their Queen. Dimitri listened to their conversations through their memories.

“It could be useful to her,” the male said.

“It is an object of great power. She will desire it whether it be useful or not,” his sister remarked, then raised an eyebrow. “What of the girl?”

The male elf paced back and forth. “She feels… strange. Great power resides in her, yet she does not know how to use it. I suspect she does not even sense it.”

“A curiosity.”

“Yes, quite.”

“The queen enjoys curiosities.”

“You think we ought to take her and the aleilah, sister?”

“Precisely. She carries something of great power that the queen would no doubt covet, perhaps punishing us if we return without it. And the girl, well… She might be of use or interest to the queen. If not…” She let the sentence hang in the air.

Dimitri knew the girl would be disposed of, or become a toy at the leisure of the queen. It was not uncommon. The queen liked collecting pets.

The he-elf smiled. “We shall bide our time and strike them when she, and whatever she carries, is most vulnerable.”

And indeed they had. The elves stilled as Dimitri relinquished his grasp upon their minds. They knew precisely what he had seen. “Well,” he said, keeping his tone conversational as he shoved his hands deep into his pockets to save them from the chilled air. “We seem to have a problem, don’t we? It’s wrong to steal, you know.”

“Not if it’s from a thief,” the he-elf growled.

“Not if it’s the King of Pelenor’s property, Ta’hiir of the Forest,” Dimitri fired back.

The elf glared at him with defiance, but did not seek to attack. He knew it was futile. “Our queen does not recognise the authority of Toroth as above her own.”

“Your queen can recognise whatever she likes—or not. I don’t give a damn.”

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