Page 106 of Given

Laurent spun and threw out his hand. “Ricti.” A smoky, black wave lashed out. It caught Varick in the chest and sent him staggering back.

I clamped a hand over my mouth to keep from crying out. Laurent went quickly from tree to tree, smearing blood and muttering priestly words under his breath. Varick stood in the center of the clearing. He appeared physically unharmed, but it was as if his feet were glued to the ground. He fought, his muscles straining, but he couldn’t defeat whatever force restrained him. He clenched his fists at his sides as the fog rolled in faster.

“Laurent,” he said, his voice anguished. “I am begging you to stop. You put us all in danger using blood magic in this forest.”

“Listen to him!” I cried, awareness prickling over my skin. Something was coming. All around us, branches snapped. Slowly, I backed to the edge of the clearing. The wind picked up, carrying the distant sounds of men’s voices and steel clashing against steel. And then, a man’s agonized cry.

I jumped, my heart hammering so hard I felt lightheaded. The fog was so thick now, I could barely see Laurent. But I heard his hissing, foreign words.

“Laurent!” Varick shouted.

A flash of black mantle caught my eye. I gathered my skirts and rushed toward it, half-tripping, half-sliding in the snow. As I ran, the fog parted, and I saw Laurent touch his thumb to the final tree.

“Hesseth,” he rasped.

Power flared, and a barrier snapped into place. For a moment, I even saw it—a streak of light that raced from tree to tree.

It encircled Varick, who crashed to his knees.

At the edges of the eerie green fog, shadows moved. A sound like the thunder of horses’ hooves filled the air. Close by, a high-pitched cackle rang out.

At last, Laurent seemed to notice something was wrong. He spun, confusion stamped on his features.

A horse burst from the fog. A knight from the Midnight Palace was mounted on its back. He pulled hard on the reins, and the horse stopped at the edge of the circle of trees. In the center, the fog was so thick that Varick was barely visible.

The knight’s eyes were wide, his expression terrified. Blood streaked his face. “Your Grace! There’s been an attack. Many are dead. You have to come with me.” As he finished, three more bloodied knights burst from the trees. All had their swords drawn.

“Save the king!” one bellowed, hurtling toward Laurent. “They’re coming!”

The thunder of hooves and the snapping of branches grew louder. The fog covered everything. Shadows rushed the clearing from all sides.

“No!” Laurent yelled. Through a gap in the fog, I saw him grapple with a knight who was trying to pull him onto a horse. “I won’t leave Varick!”

Everything seemed to slow down.

The fog parted more. A massive horse with glowing green eyes emerged from the trees. On its back was a male with flowing black hair and eyes like burning sapphires. His clothes were richer than anything I’d seen in any royal court. The blade of his sword was dark gray and appeared to flow like liquid metal, shiny rivulets running down the blade.

He was beautiful, with ears that curved to tapered points.

Impossible, I thought, my knees loosening. No elves survived the fall of Eldenvalla. The creature before me simply could not exist.

More riders emerged behind him, each one more beautiful than the last. Their eyes glowed like gems. All had ears like the black-haired rider.

The shadows swarmed Varick. His body jerked backward. An invisible force dragged him from the clearing, his boots leaving two furrows in the snow.

Laurent’s mouth stretched wide, but no sound emerged. The Nor Doruvian knight hauled him into the saddle, wheeled his horse around, and fled.

Shadows pursued them.

I pressed my back against a tree smeared with Laurent’s blood.

Slowly, the black-haired elf turned his head toward me. Behind him, the other elves did the same. Their heads swiveled in perfect unison, and dozens of glowing eyes latched onto me.

The black-haired elf smiled. “Given. Now is a good time to run.”

I grabbed my skirts, spun, and sprinted away. Laughter rose behind me, the sound high-pitched and unnatural. Mud and snow flew as I ran. Branches lashed at my body. One caught me in the face, and I cried out but kept going. Ahead, the fog thinned, and the edge of the forest was visible. Beyond it, the curve of the road leading to Wesyfedd beckoned. But I was never going to make it. My lungs burned. The sound of horses and the wild, terrible laughter drew closer. They were right at my back. They could have easily caught me by now.

They were letting me run, I realized. Playing with me.

---