Page 91 of The Daughter of the Scarred Elf

“What?”

“Can I borrow your mana? Like last time?” She held up her wrist hesitantly. “I want to try to break this rune, but I don’t have enough mana.”

“I’m a bit on the low side when it comes to my mana.” Blár gestured to the ice surrounding them in the room. “But I probably have enough for your needs.”

He held his hand out to her and she took it gratefully. If he noticed that the wounds on her palms had healed, he didn’t show it. He stared ahead at the icy walls, and she wondered if he was thinking of his family. Kolfinna squeezed his hand and reached into his mana, trying to be as quick as possible, before he noticed.

Dipping into his expansive mana came quicker to her than it had last time because this time she knew what she was doing. There was none of that tentative tug, like she wasn’t sure of how much to take. She pulled at his mana and gathered it into her body, particularly into her hand. His cool mana felt like a breath of snow, of wintry ice, and cool early mornings. It budded on her fingertips, cooling her down to the bones of her fingers.

She placed her cold hand atop the rune on her wrist. She poured as much of their combined mana into it, willing it to crack and shatter like splintered ice.

Kolfinna must’ve been at it for five minutes before Blár touched her shoulder and broke her from her concentration.

“Hey now, you’re going to drain me at this rate.”

“Oh—” Mortification rushed over her and she released his hand. “I’m so sorry?—”

“No, you’re fine.” Blár winced and ran a hand over his face. She had used too much of his mana and too quickly too, which probably made him want to drop on the floor and sleep.

Stupid.

To make matters worse, the rune on her wrist was still there, as vibrant as ever.

She cursed to herself and then rubbed his shoulder apologetically. “I’m really sorry about that. I didn’t realize I took so much.”

“It’s not a big deal.” He yawned and then stretched his legs out. “I think I’ll go take a nap for an hour or two. That’ll give us enough time until dinner, yes?”

“Yeah, probably.”

“I’ll ask Gunnar or Eluf to help me keep that slimy asshole occupied.”

“Ew, gross. Those two words don’t exactly go together well.” Kolfinna laughed, but she really wanted to cry. The rune was on her wrist, golden as ever, and if Blár’s mana wasn’t enough to break it, she would have to find another way.

20

Kolfinna and Blárwalked casually to the lower levels. The soldiers who passed them barely glanced at Kolfinna but gave nods of acknowledgment or greetings to Blár. She could see the awe on their faces when they were around him. It was strange for them to give more attention to the black rank rather than the fae on his side, since she clearly stood out more than he did. It was bizarre that her white hair and her pink eyes seemed to have somehow become normal around this base.

After the fifth soldier that greeted Blár, Kolfinna pulled at his elbow and whispered, “This is a mistake. Everyone will remember that you passed by here.”

Blár raised an eyebrow and stared pointedly at her iron-like grip on the crook of his arm. “No one will assume anything. Why would they?”

“Sijur probably has these people keeping an eye out here. You and I stick out too much.”

He frowned. There were still three more levels to go down before she would need to create an opening to go deeper underground to where the secret office was—an office Kolfinna assumed was Sijur’s and held information he didn’t want in hisnormal office. They didn’t exactly have much time, either, since dinner wouldn’t take more than half an hour at most.

“I don’t think we stand out too much—” Blár started.

“We do. Everyone’s greeting you.” As if on cue, another soldier passed by and bobbed his head to Blár. She thrust a hand in the soldier’s direction when he had already passed them. “See?”

Annoyance flitted across his face and he crossed his arms over his broad chest. “It’s not my fault people know who I am.”

“I’m not saying it’s your fault. I’m just saying …” Kolfinna sighed loudly, resisting the urge to rip a hand through her hair. “I don’t know! Maybe this is a mistake.”

“Why do you doubt yourself so much? You’re always overthinking.” He scowled. “We’ll be fine?—”

“No, we won’t.” Her own irritation flared.Of courseshe was overthinking things. She needed to because the alternative was much worse. If she was caught, who knew what Sijur would do to her? She had seen what he was capable of, and she didn’t want the same fate as Birgitta or Olia.

There were too many people passing by to go to the dining hall. Too many people who could spot them and later tell Sijur.

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