Page 2 of Dark Elves of Ardani

But Jura’s face softened a fraction. He picked up the dagger she’d dropped and slipped it into his belt. “Keep up,” he said shortly.

A breath rushed out of her as he turned away. Hurriedly, she straightened Kashava’s hair and wiped the blood from her face, then gently took her limp arms and crossed them neatly over her chest, placing her sword in her hand. She said a silent prayer to the night goddess, Ravi.

They would leave the body where it lay. It was what they’d been doing with all of the fallen. They couldn’t afford a multi-week detour back to Kuda Varai to bring bodies home.

She paused to look down at Kashava’s face. She was aware this would be the last time she laid eyes on her. And as she looked, the pain and horror she felt slowly transformed into something harder, sharper.

It was frustration at first, and then anger, and then rage.

She looked over at the human murderer and suddenly wished his death had been more painful. It should have been excruciating. He needed to feel the pain she was feeling now. He needed to pay. But now he was dead, and no more payment could be taken from him.

This was unjust. It was wrong. And there was nothing she could do about it.

Giving Kashava one last look, she hurried after the others, who were already moving on. If the humans had found them here, then this area was no longer safe. They needed to move.

* * *

The elves movedthrough the trees without making a sound. Zara sniffed periodically at the back of the group, but otherwise mimicked their quiet steps. Night was coming on quickly now. If not for the enchantment woven into her collar, she would have been as night-blind as any other human.

“The humans are getting smarter,” Kurva commented, his voice low.

“They were hunting us,” Jura said. He was met with silent agreement from the group. Raiding had become both more necessary and more dangerous after the Ysuran-Ardanian war had ended in the previous year. The Ardanians now had more resources to devote to other things, and Queen Vasso had redoubled their efforts to rid their land of night elf intruders.

Zara sniffed.

“What are you sniveling for?” Kurva snapped.

She stopped sniffing and let her nose run, wiping it with her sleeve and breathing through her mouth rather than risk angering him further. If she angered them too much, they would hurt her. Perhaps they would anyway, even if she did nothing. No one would have dared touch her when Kashava was there, but now everything was different.

Jura slowed to walk beside her. She stiffened, staring at the ground ahead.

“She would not want you to weep like this,” he said. She glanced up at him from under her eyelashes. He almost seemed sympathetic. He put a hand on her shoulder, radiating warmth through her cloak, and Zara felt heat creeping up her neck in response to the touch. It was rare for her to receive a kind touch from a Varai. “You must be strong.”

Perhaps there was one person, at least, who she could still trust. She sniffed. “Thank you.”

They walked all through the night until the sun began to brighten the sky to a dusty blue-gray. They stopped to make camp in the shadow of a small cliff, then spread out to search for firewood. The climate in the foothills of northwestern Ardani was cold and desolate. The forests here were sparse, the trees ancient and gnarled, the land rocky and unforgiving. Dead wood could be hard to find.

The others mostly paid Zara no mind, and no one gave her new instructions, so she continued her usual work like nothing had changed. It felt wrong, going on as if nothing had happened. But at least the work distracted her from her grief. She walked quickly over the hills, each sharp step and each huff of breath filled with silent, impotent anger.

“I hope you’re not thinking of leaving,” came Jura’s voice from behind her.

She straightened as she turned to him, realizing she’d wandered far from the group in her search. She could still see the others in the distance, but she’d nearly lost sight of them.

“I’m not running,” she assured him. “Where would I go?” It wasn’t as if she’d been taken from Ardani as a child. She’d been born in the capital of Kuda Varai, Vondh Rav, and lived there all her life. That was her home.

He shrugged, coming to stand beside her. “To find other humans?” he suggested. “Isn’t that what you want?”

“No.”

He arched an eyebrow, but she didn’t know how to elaborate. She didn’t know what she wanted.

When Avan and Kashava had offered her the chance to join Kashava on a raiding trip in Ardani, Zara had been cautiously optimistic. She had been brought along as a translator to help parley with humans in the unlikely event that it became necessary. Typically, the Varai dealt with enemies with violence rather than words.

But the trip had also been a test run of sorts. It was to be an introduction to her own world, her own people. Avan had asked her to go for that purpose, even if she hadn’t said so. Her mothers did not want to acknowledge aloud that she would have to leave Kuda Varai at some point, but Zara had known it for a long time. There was no future for her in Kuda Varai, outside one of slavery and submission. She would never be a Varai woman, no matter how much she might wish she were.

And yet, Ardani would never be home to her, either. She did not feel truly human any more than Kashava did. They were not her people.

At first, this journey had seemed like the opportunity of a lifetime: venturing out of Kuda Varai for the first time in her life, exploring an entirely new land, perhaps even meeting other humans like herself.

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