Page 39 of A Fractured Song

She nodded, seeing a reflection of her own relief at their narrow escape. “You?”

“Of course.”

Marieke wasn’t convinced, but she let it drop as Rissin strode toward them. She and Zev stared down at the elf, whose confidence clearly wasn’t suffering from the fact that he was half their height.

“We’ll take you to Svetlana, but it’s too much hassle to move through the canyon with your feet bound. Just know that if you run away, we will kill you.”

Marieke saw Zev’s eyes narrow, and she cut in again before he could express his opinion of that offer.

“We risked our lives to climb down into the canyon specifically to see Svetlana and the others,” she pointed out. “If you’re taking us where we want to go, we have no reason to run away.”

“So you claim,” the armed elf said. “But I’d never trust a human’s word. Not unless the human is bound by the magic of a bargain he or she can’t control. Otherwise they’ll always try to wriggle out of what they say.”

“Unlike elves,” Zev said in a tone of cold and unconvincing politeness. “Whom all the legends say were trustworthy and transparent, never known for being unscrupulous.”

Rissin chuckled. “And here I thought our reputation had been lost. It’s nice to know our good name remains known in some corner of the so-called Sovereign Realms.” He gestured imperiously toward them. “Now put your hands behind your backs so we can bind them.”

“I’d rather not,” Zev said flatly.

“Then we’ll end it here.” Rissin showed no particular emotion with the words, although it was clear to all present that byithe meant their lives. “I won’t take you anywhere unbound.”

“Come on, Zev,” Marieke murmured. “Live today to fight tomorrow.”

Zev stared at her, something strange in his expression that she couldn’t read. It was a common enough saying. He must know what she meant.

After a prolonged moment, Zev sighed, putting his hands behind his back. Marieke could see that it went against his every instinct, and could only be relieved that he wasn’t letting his pride get in the way of good sense.

“Elves have excellent hearing,” Rissin commented as he stowed his cylindrical instrument into a pack at his side. “Trying to fight us tomorrow will get you killed just as surely as trying to fight us today would have.”

Marieke ignored him, instead moving close to Zev and giving his arm another quick squeeze before she put her own hands behind her back.

“I’m sorry about your sword,” she told him.

Zev was glaring at the armed elf, who was now chatting with Rissin and ignoring the humans completely.

“It was my favorite weapon,” he muttered, still clearly irked.

In spite of the gravity of their situation, Marieke felt her mouth twitch. She quelled the reaction quickly, before Zev’s eyes fell back to her face.

“We’re no happier about it than you are,” commented the elf now tying up Zev’s hands with a length of rope he’d produced from who knew where. “That’s two powerful talismanswe’ve wasted thanks to you being where you shouldn’t be.”

“Talismans?” Marieke stared at him, her mind reeling at this mention of items in which magic could be stored for later use. The artifacts were incredibly rare. “You have talismans?”

“You’ve just seen us use them.” The elf’s voice was pitying. “Humans truly are dense. Of course we have talismans. Our craftsmanship is the best quality you’ll ever encounter,” he added proudly.

“Craftsmanship…” Marieke trailed off. “But no one remembers how to craft talismans. That knowledge was lost.”

“Lost, was it?” the elf said dryly. “Along with the knowledge of the fact that humans share this continent with real, living elves?”

“Are you telling me that elves were always the ones who crafted talismans?” Marieke asked. She glanced at Zev to see what he made of this new development. He seemed as thrown as she was.

“I’m not telling you anything,” the elf said in the contrary way she was fast coming to associate with the miniature species. “I’m talking, and you’re drawing your own conclusions.” He tugged at the rope around Zev’s wrists, studying his own knot with a critical eye.

“I can’t make sense of this,” Marieke said, raising one of her still-unbound hands to her forehead. “I’ve never read any record about elves being the ones who made talismans. I’ve never read any record about elves at all!”

“No, you wouldn’t have, would you?” the elf quipped. “Any more than you’ve read records about the slaughter of the monarchs.”

Marieke started, her palms beginning to sweat at this bald statement of the truth Zev had hinted at but never said soplainly. Any doubt she’d retained about what really happened during the singers’ coup melted away.

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