Page 57 of Forged in Fading

“They deserve as much of a life as anyone else. King Einar has been persecuting them and the humans⁠—”

“Humans? Alva, please.”

Heat crawled up her neck. “Humans are the only godsdamned reason you’re alive, Pyry.” Alvara tossed his dagger at his feet. “Here. I’m sorry for what Kat and Boden did, but keep your ignorant opinions to yourself or we won’t hesitate to dump you in the nearest town.”

He snatched the dagger and tossed it behind him, as if the blade might attack him out of its own free will. A sour feeling twisted Alvara’s stomach.

“Where did you get it?” She already knew the answer, but she wanted to make him say it.

“Alva—”

“Show it to me.”

With a slight shake of his head, he freed the blade, metalwork Alvara would have recognized anywhere.

Because she had helped forge it, only a few months ago.

“It’s not what it looks like.” Pyry reached for her hand, but she yanked it away.

“Really? Because it looks like Jalomir and I had to craft a custom blade for you, days’ worth of work, just to convince you to accompany me to Tasírath. It’s worth what, at least a hundred coins? We both know even you wouldn’t spend that much on a weapon.” She closed her eyes, speaking more to herself than him. “He had to bribe you to come with me. Unbelievable.”

Pyry didn’t even try to argue or plead his version of events. He didn’t know how to talk his way out of anything. Especially not this.

It shouldn’t have hurt. Gods, why did it hurt? It had been years since they had even spoken, but some pathetic part of her had believed Pyry traveled with her simply because he cared for her. It was starting to feel like the horses were the only ones in the godsdamned camp who hadn’t betrayed her in some way.

She needed distance.

Ice and snow crunched under her boots as she marched away from all of them. But on her next step, her foot remained lodged in the ground, where green roots had entwined themselves around her ankles.

Elan elves. Just when she thought this day couldn’t get any worse. King Einar had found them.

“Going somewhere?”

Her hand darted toward her dagger, but spiked vines looped around her arms and wrenched them behind her back.

“What do you want?” she gritted out. If she could distract him, one blow of magic, and he wouldn’t be a bother anymore.

The male cocked his head. “We’re here to kill you and take that pest”—he pointed to Boden, battling another elf—“back to⁠—”

She snapped the leash on her magic and encased him in a block of ice that toppled to the ground with a thud. Not efficient, but it got the job done.

Only a few paces away, a different Elan elf strapped Pyry to a tree trunk with a rope of thorns. A line of crimson dribbled down his neck. Why was he always bleeding in these situations? Pyry was a prick, but she wasn’t going to let him fade, at least not today.

Alvara immersed herself in memories of Eloisa and cast an arrow from her magic. It lodged in the arm of Pyry’s attacker, who cried out and staggered backward. With a rough shield in place, she bent down just far enough to clench her teeth around the blade of her dagger, but a wave of heat melted her shield to a puddle. Her pulse quickened. A Valonian elf. She would never last on her own.

A stream of fire hurtled toward Alvara. She scrambled for her magic, but an earthen barrier erupted in front of her, absorbing the blow meant for her. Kat slid to the ground at her feet and made quick work of Alvara’s binds.

“Apology accepted,” Alvara said, and Kat flashed her teeth as she skirted around Alvara and sawed the vines around her hands.

A thunderous roar echoed through the camp, and Alvara choked on her next breath.

If one of their attackers was a shifter, they were all doomed.

The huge beast flicked its amber eyes to her before it barreled through the Valonian elf in a bloody tangle of limbs. Oh gods, a bear? And the scars on its back…

It wasn’t a bear. It was the bear she had seen in the Grove of Souls. Boden. Son of a⁠—

“Alva!”