Elves Invasion

13

Mia opened up her mind to her coven. Thoughts? Comments?

I don’t trust him, Erye said.

I don’t trust you. That hasn’t stopped me from working with you, Mia replied. Fresh hurt chased across his face and she looked away rather than feel the hurt with him. I don’t think we have that many more days to decide. Do we stay or try to go? Her coven didn’t have an answer for her, but Joel did have another question.

Is Bower City so bad? Everyone shot him a look. I’m not saying it’s ideal, but what place is?

It’s run by the Woven, Windyard said, disgusted.

And it looks to me like it’s run pretty well, actually, Joel argued.

Except for the tiny fact that the people seem to be incarcerated, Juliet said.

Think of Salem. Think of those walls. Were we any less incarcerated there by the Woven?

Seems like you’ve already made up your mind, Erye said. But you don’t know what it’s like to smash your willstone.

You survived it. I’m not as weak as you think I am, Ro.

I’ve never thought you were physically weak, Joel. But you’re choosing this gilded cage the Hive has created for the humans over hardship and freedom. Try and tell me that’s strength.

They could all feel how deeply Erye’s words hurt Joel. As if against her will, Mia recalled what Avahad just said over dinner about her coven eventually breaking her heart.

We don’t all have to stay, Joel said sullenly.

You want to split up, Una said, surprised.

A long pause followed. “I think we should all decide on our own,” Mia said. She looked at Erye. “Some of us might have personal reasons for wanting to leave the coven.”

Mia left them to discuss her without interfering. She was desperate to get out her kimono and wash the makeup off her face, and desperate for silence, both around her and inside her own head.

The thought of losing this Joel to Bower City had hurt less than it should. She was almost relieved to not have to see him, to not be constantly reminded that he wasn’t her Joel, and he never could be. As she realized that, guilt folded over guilt until it was piled high on top of her head. She was at her door when she heard Erye’s voice behind her.

“Mia.” He stopped several paces from her and kept his hands at his sides where she could see them. He didn’t even try to initiate mindspeak. “Are you thinking of staying?”

“I’m not thinking anything yet,” she replied. “What about you?” Mia hated that his answer meant so much to her.

“I’ll stay if you stay, and I’ll go if you go.”

“Why?” Mia sighed and shook her head. “There’s nothing for you here. Not with me.”

“I can live on nothing,” he said, and for the first time since he’d returned, Mia saw him smile.

Samuel finished his glass of wine and went back to work on the steak. They’d tried to give him some kind of raw fish and seaweed for lunch, and he hadn’t touched it. He was sure in a classy place like this they had fresh fish, but even still. Didn’t they know they could get worms that way? Samuel always cooked his fish through and through, even if he’d just caught it himself.

“Hungry?” AvaBendingtree asked.

Samuel shrugged. “I’ve been hungrier,” he answered. The tilt of his lips let her know how big an understatement that was. He’d been literally starving to death more than once in his life, but as he considered it, maybe this Governor Bendingtree had no idea what hunger was. It was difficult to tell. She lived high now, but she seemed broken in to him. Her features were worn smooth and her eyes were placid from years of weathering strife. Then again, she looked young, too. Samuel couldn’t quite place it, but he’d bet she had some years on her.

“Would you care for some more wine?” she asked.

“Later,” Samuel said. He sat back in his chair. The cushions were plump. Samuel disliked padding on his furniture. “Why don’t you just go ahead and ask me what you came here to ask me?”

Bendingtree smiled at him, slow and knowing. She wasn’t in any rush, but she still wanted something from him. Sure, he was her prisoner, and although this palace with its servants and fancy food and the tub so big he could swim in it didn’t look like any of the dungeons Samuel had been in before, he knew what was going on here. Some captors t*****e their prisoners, and some pamper them. Samuel knew so much about this dynamic that he saw to the truth of it. If he wasn’t dead, she needed something from him. Strangely, that gave him all the power. He’d respect her more if she tortured him a little.

“You’re an interesting man, Samuel. Do you have a last name?” Bendingtree asked as she poured him an unasked-for glass of wine.

“Bait men have no family names to give their children. They are what they do. Every Outlander knows that.” He wanted it clear that even though she wore beads and feathers, Samuel knew she wasn’t like him.

“So you are Samuel Son of Anoki and nothing else?”

Samuel narrowed his eyes. Not that many people knew who his father was. Had to be an Outlander who told her, but if any Outlander knew about this western city, they all would. Things like this place couldn’t be kept secret no matter how much you paid someone.

“How do you keep your spies from talking about this place?” he asked.

She smiled a pretty smile that Samuel didn’t particularly care for. “Why would you think I have spies?” she asked merrily.

“Don’t be coy. It doesn’t suit you.”

“I have eyes on the situation in the east.” She weighed her words before disclosing her hand. “Enough to know that there are two Lillian Proctors.”