Page 63 of Sun Elves of Ardani

“I’d get you a more comfortable one.”

She shook her head. “A different one won’t be any better.” She kept fidgeting with the collar, discomfort plain on her face. “What will happen to me now?”

He straightened, eager to reassure her. “Nothing. You’ll do the same things you have been doing. Researching and helping with spellcasting when we need it.”

Perhaps he shouldn’t have used the word “we.” It seemed to remind her that he was the enemy. She gave him another glare. “It will be difficult to spellcast without access to my magic, won’t it?” she said.

“Rhian will remove the collar while you’re casting. But you will be supervised during those times. It would be unwise to try anything.”

“If I cooperate, will she let me stop wearing it?”

“Perhaps.”

She looked away, her gaze distant as she grasped the collar in her fist.

“How do you feel now?” Neiryn asked softly.

She lowered her hand to her side. “Talking helps.” She swallowed, glancing up at him self-consciously, then added, “You being here helps.”

Warmth clutched his heart. He clung to that feeling, that rare bit of softness from her. “I’ll be here as long as you need me.”

Chapter 17

Neiryn was right about the collar. That isn’t to say it wasn’t horrible. But it wasn’t the unbearable torment Kadaki had imagined. After a few days, she had almost grown accustomed to its weight on her neck, and to the lack of magic at her fingertips. The feeling that something important was missing was omnipresent, like a constant faint hunger. But she got better at ignoring it after a while.

The feeling of helplessness was the worst part. She had no power now, and everyone who looked at her knew it. Her vulnerability was advertised in the form of a very ugly, oversized necklace. She could almost feel the elves’ smug disdain whenever she crossed their paths. The miners watched her with renewed wariness, or perhaps pity. Either way, they stared more than usual. Even Safana had started giving her guilty looks. Maybe she felt shame for sharing the race of their oppressors.

Kadaki watched the miners and soldiers in the garden every morning, waiting for the day when they would announce they were ready for another descent into the ruins. That was what she was holding out for. Neiryn said Rhian had agreed to allow her to come with them the next time they went, and when they did, she’d finally have a brief respite from the collar.

She spent most of her time in her library and in Refka’s small book store. The proprietor was one of the few people in town she was on good terms with. After their first tumble into the ruins, she’d put in an order for a stack of books that had information about anomalies, Auren-Li obelisks, and beings that consumed magic. She intended to find a way to deal with both the anomalies and the magic-eater. She and Eliyr agreed that the latter was the most likely cause of the former.

And the magic-eater was indeed still alive. There had been sightings of an eerie blue glow at night, mostly in the fields on the outskirts of town.

Their fights with the creature appeared to have angered it, making it more active. It was making journeys to the surface now, perhaps with magic or by some yet unknown path from underground to above. And if the brief freeze in town had been anything to go by, the anomalies were going to get worse.

Oddly, Kadaki began to notice Roshan and Eliyr spending more time together. She would find them immersed in conversation in the halls, or even eating together. Eliyr even smiled sometimes.

Rhian kept to herself except to give orders to her subordinates. Kadaki had to wonder what she did when she wasn’t working. She seemed to have no joy in her life. Or perhaps giving orderswaswhat gave her joy. All of the sun elves seemed to spend all of their time working. It was a part of their culture. And Kadaki supposed you didn’t earn the rank of commander without being dedicated to your work.

And of course, she still ran into Neiryn often, usually at night, in the hall upstairs, when neither of them could sleep. Usually his pupils were suspiciously dilated. Whenever she saw him, she inevitably thought of the times she’d touched him and he’d touched her. More and more often, she found herself imagining things going further. She found herself wondering what it would be like if he came into her room at night and climbed into her bed, or if he trapped her in his arms in the hall. But he never did.

The fifth time they crossed paths in the upstairs hall, both leaning against the sill beneath the large windows, she asked him directly, “Why do you keep coming here?”

“Why do you?” He looked down at her. The moons were high. All the light of day was long hidden behind the horizon, but the bright moonlight lit his face. His eyes looked normal, for once.

“You’re not dreaming tonight?” she asked.

“Tragically, no. I didn’t realize I’d run out of it until I went to take it just now.”

“It’s not the worst thing, being fully sober, is it?”

“It depends.”

“On what?”

He smiled darkly. “On how much I end up wishing I were inebriated.”

She bit her lip as she considered him. He watched her back, and almost seemed to be waiting for her to do something.

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