Page 26 of To Save a Kingdom

The door was open, though whether that was because Elessan had already passed this way or because someone else had left it so, she had no idea. She pressed herself against the wall on one side and listened for any movement.

She counted to twenty and, hearing nothing beyond her thudding heartbeat, she peeked into the darkness and slunk inside.

The coppery smell was stronger here, as was the aftertaste of ozone she associated with the use of magic. She also detected the faint stench of excrement.

Holding her hand at eye level, palm facing up, she conjured a fireball and levitated it until it hovered just below the ceiling, illuminating the interior of the building.

“Valek, Aliya!” Elessan stood halfway across the room, shielding his eyes from the sudden onslaught of light. “Why didn’t you stay where I told you?”

She barely heard him. Scattered on the floor were the ten guards and several mages. Most of them lay in pools of blood, gruesome wounds in their torsos or necks. Furniture and other objects were strewn throughout the space. There had been a vicious fight.

Her gut twisted, and she swallowed, forcing the nausea roiling up her throat back down. Maybe she should have stayed with the horses, after all. Squeezing her eyes shut, she took a deep breath. She wouldn’t vomit in front of Elessan, wouldn’t betray that weakness. If she didn’t look too closely, everything would be okay. It wouldn’t be real.

But her nostrils told her otherwise.

“Aliya?” The hard edge was gone from Elessan’s tone. “Are you alright?”

Pressing her lips together, she opened her eyes. Keeping her attention fixed on his face, she nodded.

“The Whisperers are missing,” he said, the finality in his expression turning her blood to ice.

No. That couldn’t be. She must have misheard him. “Are you sure?”

A crackling noise rose in her ears, threatening to drown out his words. This couldn't be happening. She’d promised the dwarves she would destroy them, that she would guarantee they could never be used again. And Roland had wanted them so badly.

“Did the sun elves do this?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Elessan picked his way over to her and pointed to the body of the mage closest to her. “I don’t think so. See?”

Aliya frowned, turning her attention to the indicated corpse. A woman with soft brown hair the color of chocolate stared at her with empty eyes. Her skin was thin, almost papery, like she'd lived far too long. It draped over hollow cheeks.

“Yesterday, she didn't look any older than you,” Elessan said.

Aliya shook her head. No. The woman before her was at least three-quarters of a century old. Though… She leaned closer. There wasn’t a strand of gray on the mage’s head.

Aliya’s forehead wrinkled. “What does this mean?”

Elessan’s voice vibrated her bones. “That’s what happens to people after they’ve had their magic drained.” He swallowed, the sound audible across the several paces still separating them. “You would’ve been the same, had Malkov managed to do it to you.”

She bit her lips, pressing them into a thin line. She’d never been told what happened to mages who lost their power, but she’d never seen anyone drained before. If she had, she wouldn’t have looked close enough to notice the discrepancy.

“You’re certain?”

“Yes,” he said. “Trust me. I’ve witnessed it many times.”

“And Roland can’t do this?”

He turned to her, his eyes flashing. “Why do you ask?”

She hadn’t mentioned Roland’s request. Between the awkward introduction to his mother and the fact that he hadn’t come to see her tonight, there’d been no time. “Roland wants the Whisperers, as well as the artificer who created them.” The words scraped past her dry throat. “As payment for the use of his army and the death of his soldiers in overthrowing Malkov.”

Elessan muttered something in Elven that Aliya couldn’t make out. Judging from his dark expression, she should probably be glad she couldn’t.

“So,” she asked, repeating her question. “Could he have done this?”

Elessan pressed his lips together for several breaths, thinking. Eventually, he shook his head. “No. Not the magic-siphoning part, at least. Though I’m sure he could cut down a bunch of unarmed mages with a sword, if he was inclined to do his own dirty work.”

Aliya frowned at the hard edge to Elessan’s tone, but set it aside to ponder later. Right now, they had more important things to worry about. Like missing Whisperers.