Laryn fell back as Ilydia sprang forward, fast as lighting. Food scattered across the ground. The elf grabbed Hela by the neck, eyes bulging.

  Ilydia shouted, an uncommon display of elven passion. “You stole this! You killed Savena!” He held the pendant, pulling the chain tight around Hela’s neck.

  Laryn sprang to his feet and pushed Ilydia off of Hela, sending him tumbling out of the shelter.

  “You’ve ruined everything!” Laryn spat at the woman as he followed the elf out onto the beach.

  The elf turned his fall into an elegant roll across the sand and sprang to his feet.

  Laryn activated his [Temporal Thinking Space] again. The spell hadn’t fully recharged, so his time was limited.

  He quickly checked how far back he’d have to rewind time to stop Hela. If he went back nearly forty seconds he could run out and stop the woman before she entered. But he had already done that with Kenna. Doing it a second time would certainly arouse Ilydia’s suspicion. He had to go back further, probably back to the moment where he’d diverted Kenna, adding another quick whispered message. That was more than a minute and a half ago; ninety seconds or more. He only had forty-five.

  “By Ishtoran,” he cursed. Maybe Hela deserved the title ‘witch’ that some of the villagers whispered behind her back.

  As the [Temporal Thinking Space] disintegrated, he resolved to deal with this disaster the old fashioned way.

  “Ilydia,” Laryn exclaimed, grabbing the elf by the shoulder. “What is the meaning of this?”

  Once, when Laryn was young, and before his father had ascended to the throne of Eltar, he’d witnessed an event he hadn’t truly understood at the time.

  Cobor, Yarin’s wizened advisor, had always been obsessed with ancient artifacts. The old man had collected many curiosities and trinkets, some said to be more than a thousand years old. One night Laryn had awoken and overheard his father shouting in the palace.

  He crept out to see what was going on. Yarin had pushed Cobor up against the wall, and prodded the man’s sternum with his earth finger. “I told you not to get caught!” he hissed. “I told you not to leave a trace! If this comes back to me, I won’t be able to protect you!”

  “Yes, sir, I know, sir,” Cobor said, trembling. “I understand, sir.”

  “They’ll come looking. Quickly, we need bring it down into the cellar. Perhaps we can divert them from the evidence…”

  The two of them disappeared deeper into the palace.

  Laryn tried to follow them, curious about what they were doing. But he couldn’t find where they’d gone.

  A few days later the royal guards of Laryn’s grandfather showed up and searched the palace. They discovered something in Cobor’s chambers, which they said proved Cobor had committed crimes against the crown. The guards shouted and threatened to arrest Yarin.

  Laryn watched his father pretend to be surprised. He knew his dad was pretending, because he held his hands behind his back, his fingers curled around his thumbs; the weird little quirk that of Yarin that betrayed his true emotion. He was scared.

  Yarin put on a show for the guards. He shouted at Cobor. He threatened to hang the man. Eventually the guards left, taking Cobor with them. Laryn never saw the man again. Nobody ever spoke of it again, but Laryn still wondered sometimes if the thing hidden in the cellar might still be there.

  This memory flooded back to Laryn as Ilydia turned to face him.

  “Don’t pretend that you don’t know!” Ilydia spat. “You sat there and listened to me blame the void cultists for the crimes that you and your people committed!”

  Laryn matched the elf’s emotion.

  “What are you talking about?” he shouted. “You’re accusing me of attacking you in the night? Of killing elves and stealing from you? How dare you! After we’ve shared a meal together…” His heart raced. He didn’t know if Ilydia would buy it. He wanted the elves to join him peacefully. He’d been so close, and Hela had to go and blow it for him. Anger surged as he thought of what she did, and he leaned into it.

  “I made this pendant,” Ilydia said, holding up the shimmering jewel. “I gave it to Savena, as a gift. It was stolen from her corpse by her killers.” His words dripped with venom.

  “Couldn’t it have been planted by void cultists?” Laryn protested. “You said yourself you didn’t believe we humans could have committed the crime.”

  “Bah,” Ilydia said. “This gem proves it. Ask the woman where she got it from.”

  Hela emerged from the shelter, face blank, eyes wide. Truly stunned, or merely acting? Laryn didn’t know.

  “Please, my lord,” she begged, prostrating herself before the elf. “I have never seen that pendant before in my life! I do not know where it came from!”

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  Laryn rolled his eyes at the lie. Simple denial of the truth. He’d thought the woman more cunning than that.

  But Ilydia’s mouth worked noiselessly. “It… You… It was around your neck,” the elf said.

  “I can offer no explanation for it,” Hela gasped. “I swear to the simple truth of it. I did not put that necklace on.”

  She gestured to the dozen straps she wore looped over her neck; leather cords, delicate chains, and dangling talismans. “I wear many protective fetishes,” she muttered. “What is one more?”

  “A set up, perhaps,” Ilydia growled. “I do not believe it,” he hissed. “You expect me to believe that someone stole this pendant and slipped it around your neck as you slept?”

  Hela whimpered, groveling in the sand further.

  “Void cultists are masters of deception,” Laryn said.

  Ilydia pursed his lips. “I know it was you,” he said, but the words fell flat, without conviction. “It had to be!”

  “If this is true,” Laryn said, “And some of my people committed this crime, it was without my knowledge or sanction. I will search them, and see that they are brought to justice.”

  Ilydia stared at Laryn, still holding the necklace in his fist. His fury softened a degree, and Laryn knew that they’d sowed confusion in his mind.

  “See what you can discover,” he hissed. “And if they hid among you, you will turn them over to us. Then we can talk about our agreement. Meet me at dawn tomorrow.”

  Ilydia spun on his heel and stormed away across the beach. Laryn sighed, relieved. The elf believed that he wasn’t involved.

  Hela watched the elf go. As soon as he passed beyond their line of sight, she picked herself up off the ground and brushed sand from her skirts and hair.

  “Stick grubber,” Hela hissed, examining her necklaces. “I liked that one.”

  Laryn nearly struck the woman. “Do you not understand what you’ve done?” he asked, his voice cold and even.

  He had a responsibility to his subjects. But he also had a responsibility to justice.

  Hela examined the bandage on Laryn’s leg. “We need to change this so that you don’t get infected. Come with me.”

  He followed her to the central fire and sat on a log while she worked to redress the wound.

  “What were you thinking, Hela?” he asked. “I told you to hide everything that was stolen from the elves.”

  She shrugged. “I forgot. I have a lot of necklaces, you know. And come on, what are the odds that he recognizes that one in particular!”

  “High, Hela,” he said. “Really high. In fact, it turns out, twelve out of twelve!”

  She rolled her eyes as she unwrapped the burlap strip that served as a bandage on his leg. She also examined the wound in his side.

  “I should just hand you over to them,” Laryn said. “I don’t know why I defended you.”

  “This one’s healing fast,” she said, peering at the raw, fresh skin. “You might not even need to bandage it any longer.”

  The wound should have taken weeks to scab up and heal, but thanks to the constitution benefits of the kingdom core and Hela’s skill, it had only taken days. Likewise, the injury on Laryn’s leg had healed faster than expected.

  “I’m a good healer, I guess,” Hela said. “You should thank me for that.”

  “I know. But Kenna’s good with medicines too. You will be punished for what you’ve done.”

  Hela scoffed. “She’s fine, but she’s no expert. And you forget yourself. I am valuable. I have touched the void, and not succumbed. I can help you spot cultists.”

  “I’m not sure you’re not a cultist yourself.”

  Hela feigned hurt. She started boiling a poultice over the fire, mixing ingredients into a small pot.

  “It sounded like Ilydia was afraid of the void cult,” Hela said. “He should be glad we killed that elf. She was one of the cultists.”

  “You were listening in,” Laryn stated long-sufferingly. This woman might be a good healer, but she certainly had a knack for sticking her nose where it didn’t belong.

  She pulled a ring out of her pocket and placed it on her air finger and began admiring it. A black gem set into a gold band. The same black substance Laryn had seen before, around the necks of other elves. Void heart. It sang in the sunlight.

  “Where did you get that?” Laryn asked, reaching for it.

  “I got it off the dead elf, but I’m not really a fan of rings,” Hela said, tossing it to him. “It’s all yours.”

  “This is void heart?” he asked, looking at the stone. It certainly looked like void heart. Hela nodded. He wrapped his fingers around the gem, and thought he felt a distant thrumming.

  “It is. Can’t you feel it, calling to you? Or have you blocked off your connection too strongly?”

  “There are definitely void cult elves in Annar, then,” Laryn said. “But Ilydia doesn’t know.”

  “Or he’s pretending not to,” Hela said. “And you’re falling for it.”

  “No,” Laryn shook his head slowly. “What good would that do him?”

  Hela shrugged.

  “You’re distracting from the problem. You heard what he said. I have to turn over the perpetrators when he comes back.”

  “Why?”

  “To preserve the peace. To form an alliance. If we fight… Even if we don’t lose, they’ll kill many of us. We won’t have enough people to thrive. Anyone that isn’t killed will still die, just more slowly. I’m going to have to turn you over to them.”

  “They’ll kill me,” Hela said.

  “That’s not my fault. You chose to strike at them. As [Ruler], I take responsibility for my own decisions, not yours.”

  Hela shrugged. “You need to know what I know. About the void. About how it’s spreading so fast.”

  “Then tell me.”

  “You’re threating my life.”

  “I don’t believe you have anything valuable to share.”

  “Oh?”

  She reached out to him, folding his fingers around the voidstone ring in his hand. She wrapped both hands around his fingers, frail fingers enfolding a large fist.

  With a rush, the world flew away from Laryn. He looked down on a whirling globe. He drowned in an inky sea, penetrated by pinpricks of light. Deep malice enfolded him, a pulsing, throbbing ferocity, smothering him like a wet blanket. Straining against the darkness, Laryn screamed.

  And he saw a voidbloom, blossoming to the north. It pulled essence from the ground, sucking it from plants, animals, and earth. Billowing upward, it exploded into a million spores, which—

  The vision cut off as Hela ripped the ring from Laryn’s hand.

  “Wait!” Laryn cried out. “I need to know—”

  “That’s what I’m saying.” Hela smirked. “You need me. I’m valuable to you. If you’re worried about keeping people alive, you need me. Give them someone else. Someone less useful.”

  Laryn pursed his lips. He frowned. The thought had already crossed his mind. He did not like it.

  “Who?” he asked.

  “The boys, perhaps. Widan and Gaten. Or Kenna. She knew the way to Annar. The elves might suspect her already. The easy lie is the one believed.”

  “No,” Laryn shook his head, wincing as Hela bound newly poulticed bandages around his injuries.

  “You already lied to Ilydia,” she said. “Don’t you want to do the right thing?”

  “I do,” Laryn said, rising. “I do.”

  He walked away. He needed to know more about the raid. Who had really been involved? Could he actually turn someone over as a scapegoat?

  One thing was for certain. Hela needed to be punished.