Page 95 of The Daughter of the Scarred Elf

Unn, prostitute.

Margrethe, thief.

Astrid, orphan.

Underneath each namewas a short summary of how they eventually accepted the rune mark and what they had been forced to do for Sijur. Some killed, others tortured themselves so Sijur could see how far the rune mark’s influence went, and others performed certain tasks—like dancing, standing still for days, or starving themselves—for hours to see if the runes went beyond the body’s exhaustion level. All of them died, and all were women who likely wouldn’t be missed.

Kolfinna turned to the next pages and found even more names. But the most horrifying section was toward the end, the more recent entries.

Astra, beggar. Female, eight. Seems to be doing well with the rune marks. Will keep asking for simple tasks and see if she’s able to do something beyond her scope of understanding.

Noma, orphan. Female, nine. We gave her the task of never speaking to anyone except for me. It seems to be working well, but she spoke once to another child, and she felt the pain of the rune. She didn’t misspeak after that.

Olaf, orphan. Male, twelve. Understands his tasks well. His personality is bubbly happy, cheerful. We will test to see if the rune can alter his personalities and characteristics. Thus far, there have been no changes. Will update in a few months.

She didn’t wantto read any further, but she couldn’t stop herself. There were three more names written down with their respective ages scrawled beside them. There was no indication that they were killed, but each other these children had a different task set by the runes.

Kolfinna fought the urge to vomit right then and there. He was experimenting onchildren.

And Joran was playing right into it.

She released a shuddering breath. This was so much worse than she had first thought. It wasn’t just her life that was caught in this. Sijur would keep experimenting on other people and by the filled pages of this journal, he had already gone through dozens of experimentations. It would only continue, even if she left. So long as he had Joran, he would continue to abuse others. Even children.

But if these children were still alive, were they somewhere in this fort? She had already searched the rooms here when looking for the elf warrior and she hadn’t found any, so was Sijur keeping them in a nearby village?

A movement from Blár caught her eye. “I think … I found something.” He held a slip of paper in his hand. His eyes were narrowed to slits and he was holding the paper so tightly that it was crinkled around his fingers.

“Is everything all right?” She shoved the journal back where she had found it and went over to Blár.

He was still staring at the paper. Now that she was up close, she could see that he was pale. “Three Royal Guards took a month-long leave of absence seven years ago. All three of them retired soon after.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” she asked slowly, quietly.

“Seven years ago is when the attack happened.” He stared at her with unseeing eyes. He was somewhere else, in a memory. “They all were on their leave the same time it happened. All three were from different units. Old men, who served for a long time. Loyal to the crown.” He lowered the paper inside the open book he had been looking through. It looked like a record log, with hundreds of names scrawled inside of it, and with a few names circled.

Kolfinna watched him carefully. “Do you think …”

She couldn’t finish the sentence. Was it possible that the Royal Guards might’ve led an attack on Blár’s family? But why would they do anything like that? Blár’s family was normal; they hadn’t been extremely powerful or well-known. They were simple villagers. Why would the king, or the Royal Guards, want them dead?

“What if this is just a … coincidence?” Kolfinna asked.

“A coincidence? I don’t think so.” Blár flipped through the records with a look of disgust. “Sijur has been doing his research. I don’t think he was planning on telling me or Eluf anything.” He held the paper out to her. “Do you recognize any of these names?”

She scanned the paper and shook her head. “I’m sorry, I don’t.”

“They must still be alive somewhere. I’ll have to ask them myself.” He slammed the records shut and raked a hand through his hair. “If the Royal Guards are involved …” He cursed loudly. “I just don’t understand why they would kill my whole family? Is it because they didn’t want the military to take me?” He covered his face with a trembling hand—she wasn’t sure if it was a sign of vulnerability or rage.

“Blár …” Kolfinna hesitantly touched his shoulder.

He flinched at the contact but didn’t pull away. His voice wavered when he spoke next. “Why would they kill my family?”

“We still don’t know that,” she whispered. “But we can find out. You have a lead now. I’ll help you.”

She didn’t know why she said it; she had other things to worry about. Her own safety, escaping Sijur’s clutches by breaking the rune mark, figuring out how to elude Ragnarök and this supposed half-elf commander. The old Kolfinna wouldn’t have thought twice about leaving him to figure it out on his own. She would’ve felt bad for him, sure, but she would’ve left him tohis own problems. But she couldn’t do that to him. She had to find a way to help him.

Blár nodded and didn’t meet her gaze. He unclenched and clenched his fists. The emotions flitting over his face varied from anger to sadness to confusion, and all the ranges that came with those emotions.

“Do you think … Do you think my mother is still alive?” He barely whispered the words. “Why was she the only one taken away? Why didn’t they kill her right then and there with everyone else?”

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