Page 82 of Forged in Fading

She wouldn’t do the smile. After everything she’d been through, Alvara could face anything with a calm demeanor.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

She was absolutely going to do the smile.

The anxiety had started as a small buzz in her stomach and extended through the tips of her fingers and toes, leaving her teetering on the edge of pure panic, and that smile would find its way onto her face when they saw the humans, whether she willed it or not.

Along the border, odd crimson plants sprouted through the thinning snow, as if the land itself had been gouged where the magic barrier had once stood. A scream sliced through the air. The horses whinnied and bucked underneath them, and Alvara stroked her beast’s neck as they slowed their pace. Maybe they were already too late.

A wall of timber towered before them, likely packed inside with earth for reinforcement, not that it would do much against Nyrian wielders. Wooden spikes ran along the top, an efficient way to defend against other humans, but in the face of Valonian elves…

Boden left his horse behind and approached a long line of guards clad in chainmail, helmets, and wooden shields. They carried mostly spears and axes, brandished in a way that communicated their readiness to kill at a moment’s notice, while the bows of archers followed him from the watchtowers.

He lifted his hands in what she, and any sane person, knew as surrender, but the humans all sprang into action, shoving their weapons in his direction. Harsh foreign words rolled off his tongue as he took a tentative step forward.

“Dismount from your horse as slowly as you can,” he said to Alvara. The guards encircled Boden at the first word of Elvish and ripped her from her saddle, the assault to her wounds blanketing her vision with white.

Alvara sagged in the man’s grip, the only thing keeping her upright. She regained her eyesight only to find an axe pressing into the base of her throat.

This was going swimmingly.

“We want nothing with your kind,” one of the guards sneered in heavily accented Elvish. He shoved his weapon with enough force that it drew a small trickle of blood from Alvara’s skin. Boden tensed beside her, and she brushed his hand, a signal to stand down.

He asked something in the human tongue, though his eyes never left her face.

The guard only drove the axe harder into Alvara’s throat, slicing open her flesh. She ground her teeth together to keep from screaming and startling him further.

“Leave our language off your filthy tongue. Magic of your kind destroy town. I strike you where you stand.”

“Please, listen to us,” Boden said. “King Einar has destroyed the barrier that has kept you safe for so long. We need to speak to your leaders and prepare for war.”

The guard narrowed his eyes. “Why must I believe you?”

“You know me. I have helped the humans and demi-elves for a decade, saving who I could. Some of them I brought back to Gosibik myself.” Boden inclined his head toward the town. “Nothing has changed.”

And, Alvara wanted to add, We could have killed you with our magic the moment we set eyes on you, but we didn’t.

“For what we know, you fed information to your people.” The guard turned his attention to Boden and loosened his grip on his axe.

Alvara allowed herself a single, slow breath. What could they say to gain their trust when Boden had already done so much for them, and it made no difference?

“I’ve never been in the human realm,” Alvara said. “You would have recognized me at the gates. So you know I wouldn’t have been able to give them any information against you. Take me to your elders. I will explain the threat coming, and if they find it’s not worth their time, you can dump me back here and we’ll leave you in peace.”

The guard jerked his head toward one of his companions and said something in the human tongue. The other man wrenched Boden’s arms behind his back and poked a spear into his chest.

“Do anything, he die.”

Die. That cursed word again. Boden’s life was on the line, and the only thing between him and certain fading was Alvara’s people skills, or lack thereof. He wouldn’t risk hurting the humans and destroying any hope of an alliance—he would allow them to kill him if it came to that.

“I trust you,” Boden said, his whisper following her into the town of Gosibik.

Chaos wasn’t a strong enough word to describe what lay before her.

Humans scurried from every direction, lugging buckets of water and trying and failing to douse the numerous fires that consumed their wooden buildings. Cries of pain and outrage laced the air with an undercurrent of violence, and throngs of angry spectators surrounded their fellow humans, or demi-elves with round ears, with weapons.

Releasing the elves’ magic had freed the powers of the demi-elves, most of which likely hadn’t even known they possessed anything of the kind. Their panic sparked and grew, froze and burned, fluctuating wildly with their emotions. If someone didn’t help them soon, they would kill not only those around them, but themselves. And who knew how long their fragile life forces would be able to feed their powers.

As Alvara passed by, both humans and demi-elves skewered her with their hatred, as if she were the one who had unleashed this nightmare upon them. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears, and the faint smell of smoke crawled up her nose. If she showed one drop of her magic, she and Boden would both fade.