Page 12 of Dark Elves of Ardani

His voice took Zara by surprise. It was soft and clear, and his accent was unlike any she’d ever heard. He did not sound like he was from Vondh Rav, where Zara was from.

There was a rustling sound from the bed. The shadow’s head snapped toward the sound just in time to get smacked in the face with a metal rod. He tilted off of Zara and sprawled on the floor, unconscious. His fade dissolved, revealing a hooded man in form-fitting black leather armor. He’d never drawn the sword at his side.

Basira dropped the rod on the mattress.

“You keep that under your bed?” Zara asked, bewildered.

“A woman’s got to protect herself, hasn’t she?” Basira replied. “As you can see, it’s a good thing to have around. Is he dead?”

Zara gingerly pulled at his hood to turn him toward her. His head moved limply at her prodding, revealing a face that was not night-blue like Kashava and the other Varai, but a paler steel-blue framed with long, raven-black hair. His eyes were closed, and blood oozed from a wound on his forehead. Zara moved his hair to peer at his ears. They were short and only slightly pointed.

She stared at him. Even with all the human slaves in Kuda Varai, she’d never seen a human-Varai hybrid. In Kuda Varai, the results of interracial unions were steadfastly avoided, and were dealt with stealthily in the rare cases where they came to term.

“He is half human,” Zara said. He was also startlingly beautiful, which she felt embarrassed for noticing. Now that she knew what to look for, there were other signs of his human ancestry: his limbs were thicker than a full-blooded elf’s, his body slightly less willowy and more muscular.

Basira peered into his face, looking less intrigued than Zara. “And half night elf,” she pointed out.

Zara tentatively put her fingers to his throat. His skin was hot, his pulse strong. “He is still alive.” She looked up at Basira, not knowing what to do next.

But Basira seemed to know what to do. She gave a sharp nod. “Keep him here. Don’t let him get up,” she said, moving to the door.

“How should I keep him—?” Zara began, but Basira had already left the room.

She stared down at the man. She had sparred with Kashava many times, but she’d rarely been this close with a real enemy. She’d lived a rather comfortable, easy life with her mothers before this journey into Ardani.

He could wake up at any moment. Or, perhaps his head wound would get the best of him and he’d succumb.

She found herself hoping he wouldn’t.

There was a dagger at his belt. She unsheathed it and held it to his throat, waiting for his eyes to open. They didn’t. Belatedly, she reached down to unbuckle his sword belt from his waist, then threw it across the room. She found a knife in his boot, and a pouch of some kind of powder that she suspected was enchanted or poisoned. She threw all of it out of reach. He still showed no signs of waking.

She wondered if he was someone else’s Kashava. If he died, someone out there would probably mourn him the same way Zara mourned.

“I’m sorry,”she murmured.“I know you were just doing what you thought you were supposed to do.”

Basira returned, carrying a coil of rope.

“You are going to tie him?” Zara asked nervously.

“What other option do we have?” Basira asked. “Kill him?”

Zara felt the blood drain from her face.

Basira nodded. “I thought not.”

They rolled him onto his front, and just as Basira began tying his hands behind his back, he shifted, slowly waking. Zara’s heart pounded as his eyelids fluttered and then opened.

They were red-violet, like the sun during smoke season.

The eyes focused on her, blinking and then narrowing. His expression hardened in anger, and she saw his body tense as if to try to fight them off.

“Stay,”Zara warned, pressing the dagger to his skin. It cut, drawing a trickle of blood.“I have killed others before. I’ll do it again. Don’t force my hand.”

Hatred simmered in his gaze. When Basira finished securing his arms, Zara stood up, eager to move out of his sight.

“Now what do we do?” Zara asked quietly.

Basira cleared her throat. “You, elf. Do you speak Ardanian?”

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