Page 96 of The Daughter of the Scarred Elf

Kolfinna’s heartstrings tugged at the desperation and vulnerability in his voice, on his face, and the slight tremors in his hands. “We can find out once we question them.” She didn’t want to bring his hopes up high. Truthfully, after all these years, it was likely she was already dead, but she didn’t want to tell him that.

“Do you think Fenris knows anything?” Kolfinna asked.

He ran another hand over his face. “Maybe. He became the captain of the Royal Guards six years ago, so this happened under the previous captain.”

“Can we ask him? The previous captain, I mean.”

He grimaced. “He died two years ago.”

“But these three men … they’re probably still alive, right?”

“I hope so.”

Kolfinna stared at the names on the paper.Braggi Mikkelsen. Gorm Aaberg. Ulrik Helgason.

She paused at the last one.

“Do you think Ulrik Helgason is related to Hilda Helgadottir?” She pointed at their last name. Ulrik’s last name stated son of Helge, while Hilda’s said daughter of Helge. It wasn’t an uncommon name—Helge—but one thing Kolfinna had learned in the Royal Guards was that it was common for manyrelated nobles to be in the guard together, since their family’s influence was what got them there in the first place.

Blár’s brows knitted together. “I’m not sure. I don’t remember much about her family, but I think she had two brothers. Edwin’s father’s name is … Karl, so it’s not his father.”

Before Kolfinna could brainstorm more, a noise in the upper level caught her attention. Her ears perked up and she canted her head in the direction of the noise—toward the ceiling. It was a banging noise. Not like the previous bang she had heard last time she was here. But more of a … boom?

“Is something—” Blár started.

A vibration ran along the walls and the ceiling, followed by another distant bang.

Blár’s expression morphed from surprise to grimness. He stuffed the paper in his pocket. “What was that?”

“I don’t—” The walls shook again and dust fell from the ceiling.

There it was again—another distant booming. An attack, maybe? Or maybe Joran was practicing in the other room?

The walls trembled.

Kolfinna’s panicked look met Blár’s confused one.

They were in the basement level—nothing should’ve been able to shake the foundation of the entire fort. Unless …

Kolfinna ran to the wall and placed a hand over it. She really hoped it wasn’t what she thought it was. There was only one thing that could make the entire fort shake like a leaf.

When she pressed her mana into the wall, the presence of another person’s mana flared against the workings of the stone, practically shoving her minute amount of mana out from the fibers of the stone. She wrenched her hand back, eyes wide.

There was another fae manipulating the stones. The mana had felt … cold, so unlike Joran’s warm mana, so it couldn’t be him. So who?

“What’s wrong?” Blár came to stand beside her.

“Someone’s manipulating—” Her mind raced to Rakel. She was an elf, yes, but what if she was also part fae?

Kolfinna ran to the office door and pulled it open. She was met with the dark hallway. Blár followed behind her as she ran to the door at the end of the hall. Rakel was probably strong enough to shake the foundation of the fort, if she had been able to fight toe to toe against Blár. If she was trying to escape, then Kolfinna needed to stop her immediately. Rakel knew what Kolfinna was, and if she told the half-elf commander, the entire army would be here.

Kolfinna couldn’t let that happen.

She jerked open the door to the room. It took her eyes a split second to adjust to the darkness; the only light was from the bobbing candle in Blár’s hand.

It was empty.

The ring of runes on the floor were gone, and there was a single line etched into the dust on the floor written in rune writing.

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