Surrender, Book 3 The Elfin Series by Quinn Loftis
“Oh, fine,” the dark elf drawled. We’ve only had one ancient visitor as of late. “And yes, he is still here. Through that door and to the end of the hall.” He pointed to a door along the wall where another elf in a dark suit was standing guard. Rezer gave a hand signal and the elf shifted to his left a couple of feet, presumably leaving the door accessible to the light elves.
“Which one is it?” asked Tamsin.
“Vyshaan.”
Tamsin did not miss the way his Chosen tensed. She was probably thinking the same thing he was—of all the elders, why did it have to be that one? Syndra had only ever discussed her history with Vyshaan once, and after that they had tucked the knowledge away in hopes that it would never surface again.
“Personally,” Rezer continued, unaware of Tamsin’s thoughts or his mate’s reaction to the elder’s name, “not my favorite. Bit of a bore, if I’m being honest, but we’ll take what we can get nowadays, I guess.” The dark elf airily waved his hand about.
“There now, that wasn’t too difficult now was it, Rezer.” Tamsin gave the dark elf a pat on the shoulder and moved past him with Syndra and Lisa in tow.
“Ah, just one more thing you might be interested in, oh gracious former king and queen…” Rezer face was a smug mask as he let his voice trail off, half turning away from the trio.
“And what is that?” growled Syndra.
“You three aren’t the only strange visitors we’ve received this evening. It’s rare we get light elves in here and humans are even rarer still. But half-elves, well, that almost never happens. And I must say” ―he stared directly at Lisa― “the resemblance is uncanny.”
Chapter 10
“Things stir in the far recesses of my mind. They lay in shadow, just out of my grasp. The more I try to shine a light in those dark corners, the darker they appear. Somehow I know that these are more than long ago lost memories. Pieces of my soul lay shrouded in that darkness. I know with every cell in my body that I need to remember them. I must remember them.” ~ Elora
Cassie shivered as the day drew on. Fall was coming to the swamp and, even this far south, a ten degree drop in temperature didn’t go unnoticed. Priestess Chamani stood motionless, staring at them. Her weathered skin covered her like the worn surface of a concrete monument. She hadn’t moved an inch since her declaration that they would be waiting for Elora to arrive, and she gave no indication that she was planning on doing so any time soon. Cassie’s feet ached and she wondered if the priestess also felt a similar pain. After all, Cassie was young and Chamani was, well, the complete opposite of that. Despite the temperature, threat of alligator attack, and constant buzzing of mosquitoes, neither Trik nor Tony appeared bothered in the least.
“Have you heard from Rin?” Cassie whispered to Trik. She watched as he pulled his phone from his back pocket.
“I asked him how things are going,” Trik told her holding the phone so she could see the text message. “This was his answer.”
“Tell my queen that everything is chill,” Cassie read Rin’s answer. She laughed under her breath. It was a strange thing to hear in such a dismal place, but she silently thanked Rin for the brief moment of lightness during this gloomy time.
It was several minutes later, when Cassie spoke again, once the humor from the text had worn off and anxiety seeped back in.
“And, uh, how long will she be?” asked Cassie glancing around, as if Elora would be walking out from behind a Cyprus tree at any moment.
“No man knoweth the day nor hour, chile.” At this the priestess threw back her head and let out a long hearty chuckle that reminded Cassie of a colony of bats shrieking through the night’s sky. “Besides, there be plenty a good stumps round here to be resting on.” And with that the old woman plopped down on a gnarled stump and placed both of her hands on her knees, leering at Cassie all the while. “And dat be givin us some more time to parlay while she be coming.”
Cassie wasn’t exactly in the mood to have afternoon tea with a Voodoo priestess―especially smack-dab in the middle of the Louisiana bayou with darkness quickly creeping up on and her parents still missing.
“Great idea,” broke in Tony. “These old dogs could use a rest.” He too found a suitable stump, which seemed to be everywhere around them, and dropped down on it, propping his feet on a fallen log. Despite the muck that splattered his suit trousers and his expensive Italian loafers, he appeared unruffled. “So tells us again, priestess…uh, what did you say your name was?”
Again the old woman cackled. “You be a clever on, chile. But you be knowing better than that. Names be having power, and I not be givin mine out for free.”
“Chamani,” said Trik. “Her name is Chamani, and she and her family have trafficked with dark elves for centuries.”
“Ah, you be no fun, Triktaptic,” the old woman croaked with mirth in her eyes.
“So tell us, Chamani,” Tony continued unphased, “why exactly does your mistress want Trik to keep his throne so badly.”
“Hmm, that be an interestin question right der.” The old woman’s eyes rolled back in her head momentarily and she sucked in a deep breath. Seconds ticked by and no one said a word as they all anxiously watched her. After a few moments, she exhaled and her eyes refocused on Tony. “It be yo lucky day, pretty boy, I can give dat information out fo free. It ain’t no secret Lorsan be bad mojo, chile. And Tarron, da potions mixer, be even worse. Now by dem selves, well they be no never mind. But they has someting now, someting powerful.”
“The Book of the Elves,” said Trik quietly.
“Dat be sho nuff right, assassin king. And wit dat book they might be being too powerful. Maybe they take over de whole of de human realm. And maybe dat make dem even mo powerful dan my mistress herself. We sho can’t be havin dat now, can we?”
“Who’s to say I won’t challenge your mistress myself when I have the book?” Trik asked her.
The priestess narrowed her eyes at the elf. “That be another interestin question right der,” Chamani responded.
“A good king doesn’t seek out trouble,” Cassie interrupted. “He would never needlessly put his subjects into harm’s way. Lorsan doesn’t understand this. He only understands power and he will sacrifice anything or anyone to get it. That is why he isn’t fit to be king. A good king picks his battles and puts his people’s safety above his own.” She reached out to Trik and put her hand in his.
“Well spoken, chile,” the old woman said.
An uneasy silence fell over the group. Chamani stared at the sky, seemingly in another world. Trik and Cassie took turns glancing at each other and glancing at their surroundings, communicating without spoken words. After a few minutes, Tony, eyes closed and head slumped forward, began to snore.
“Some help he is,” Cassie said, nudging Trik in the ribs. Trik was just about to go and warn about him staying alert when they heard noises coming through the bushes. Tony snapped up and every head turned to investigate. They could clearly hear someone lumbering through the trees, breathing heavily, with footsteps making squelching noises in the mud.
“Here be our girl now,” said Chamani, a serene grin plastered to her face.
With the exception of the priestess, they each stood, alert, facing the direction of the oncoming noise. After a few moments, Elora broke through the trees, but hers weren’t the footsteps that had caused the sounds. In fact, she wasn’t walking at all. Rather, she was being carried by one stunned looking dark elf who had seemingly been so startled by happening upon this group that he froze in his tracks. Trik, however, was anything but frozen.
“You,” he gritted out through clenched teeth, all the while stalking toward Tarron who still held Elora in his arms. Trik reached his hand back, balled up a fist that was white hot with magical power, apparently ready to unleash his full fury on the dark elf.
“Wait!” cried Cassie. “You’ll hit Elora.”
Trik froze and sucked in a breath. He lowered his arm as the light faded from his hand.
“That’s right,” hissed Tarron, who took a few steps backward away from the elf king. “Don’t want to go spoiling this beautiful creature’s face.”
“What have you done?” Trik growled.
“What have I done? What have I done?” Tarron repeated, his voice rising to a maniacal pitch. “I’ve found my Chosen at long last. Just like you, Trik.”
“She’s not your Chosen and you know it.”
“Oh isn’t she?” the mad chemist responded. “If she were awake right now, I think this little raven would say differently. Wouldn’t she, priestess?”
“A deal be a deal, dark elf. Da spell be working as intended. Now you be going ya own way.”
“Wait a second,” broke in Cassie. “You can’t just let him leave with Elora. She’s my friend.”
“Don’t ya be tellin da mistress Chamani what she can and can’t be doin, chile. Da mistress always keeps her word. She not be interfering with something that not be her concern.”
“Trik, stop him,” wailed Cassie.
“Stop right there, assassin,” barked Tarron as he took another step away from Trik. “You don’t want to do that. This girl and I are linked now. The Voodoo magic courses through both of our veins. If you kill me, then she dies too. Right here, right now.”
Trik stood motionless, clenching and unclenching his fists. He wasn’t sure if Tarron was bluffing, but he couldn’t take the chance. “I’ll find you,” he said at last.
“No, no you won’t. You’ll leave me alone if your little Chosen ever wants to see her parents again. Once I’m far, far away, I’ll send you a message letting you know where I’ve hidden them. Until then, if I even suspect you might be following me, they’re dead.” With that the dark elf turned and shifted Elora onto his shoulders. “I mean it, blondie. Make sure your big bad assassin doesn’t follow me.” With a quick glance back at Cassie, he awkwardly bolted into the cover of the trees.
“Well, that didn’t go anything like I had pictured in my head,” Tony said into the silence that had dropped over them.
“What did you picture?” Cassie asked as she continued to stare in the direction to which Tarron had just vanished.
“A lot less talking and a lot more ass kicking.”
Trik’s eyes narrowed as he continued to watch Tarron run, his superior elf vision allowing him to see what the humans could not. “Don’t worry, Tony, that picture is coming, very soon.”
Cush continued to stare around at their surroundings. Though he still sensed an evil presence, he couldn’t get see or hear anything tangible close by.
“Oakley, have you ever heard the saying, discretion is the better part of valor?”
“Oh, don’t tell me you’re giving up already. I’m alright, man. One little imaginary noose isn’t going to slow me down.”
“I appreciate your concern for Elora, I really do. But the spirits that are inhabiting this swamp may be more than I can handle. I have to find my Chosen, but it won’t do her any good if we both end up dead in the bottom of a bog.”
Truthfully, Cush knew that he could probably survive the swamp just fine on his own. But he wasn’t sure he could do that and protect Oakley. And he knew that Elora wouldn’t be too pleased with him if he showed up without her brother because the weaker half-elf had been killed by some Voodoo swamp magic. Cush was nearing his breaking point. He knew, instinctively, that Elora was somewhere nearby. But he didn’t know how to find her. With each passing second he became more and more confused. Why had she come here of all places? Every second away from her was tearing him apart. He could only figure that Trik had some answers. How Trik had known that she was here, Cush couldn’t say and right now he didn’t care. He only cared about getting Elora back. If anyone could help him do that, it was Trik.
“Ugh, this sucks,” said Oakley. “I’m a half-elf. Why can’t I do all the cool juju that you and Trik and the others do? You shouldn’t have to babysit me? What is the point of being half-elf and not having any powers?”
“Doesn’t work that way. Half-elves always have more in common with humans than with elves, at least the ones I have met anyway. Half-elves are very rare and most that exist don’t even know they have an elvish side.”
“Great,” huffed Oakley.
“Being an elf isn’t all it’s cracked up to be anyway,” Cush continued.
“I can see you are really struggling to get by. Must be terrible walking around looking like you do and, oh by the way, shooting freaking beams of light from your hands.”
“Don’t whine,” Cush chuckled. “We can continue this man crush pity party thing you have going on later. We’ve got to get out of here.” And with that he started tromping back the way they came. Oakley had no choice but to follow.
It only took a few minutes for Cush to realize they were in serious trouble. Like most light elves, Cush was uniquely attuned to his natural surroundings. Which is why he was able to note every tree, rock, bush, and stump that they passed, marking them in his memory. After he passed a familiar looking gnarled cypress tree a second time, even though he knew that he and Oakley had been walking in roughly the same direction, he thought it must be a coincidence. But when he passed the tree a third time, he knew without doubt that they were somehow going in circles.
“Stop,” Cush whispered, coming to a halt so suddenly that Oakley almost ran into his back.
“What now?” Oakley whined.
“Hush,” the elf responded, slowly crouching and staring intently around. Without knowing why Oakley copied his movements. “Does it feel like we’ve been going in circles?” he asked.
“I don’t know, man. I’ve been following you. I didn’t really stop to check the cross streets.”
As he said this, all noise in the swamp seemed to shut off like a light switch. The crickets ceased their chirping and the frogs quit their croaking. Oakley hadn’t realized how loud the surroundings had been. After so long wandering around, he had unwittingly become accustomed to the sounds. Now their absence went straight past ominous, all the way to creepy.
“Be very still,” Cush whispered.
A murder of crows exploded from a tree behind them, cawing and flapping, swooping down at the pair.
“Stay down,” yelled Cush. He threw his body over Oakley. “They can’t hurt us,” the elf ground out at he put his hands over his head hopefully protecting the tender parts from the beaks and claws. A second later the crows didn’t so much as fly off, they just vanished.
“An illusion,” the elf said calmly as he stood up, his eyes searching their surroundings. For what, Oakley did not know. “Just like the noose. You mustn’t let her fool your mind.”
“Easy for you to say,” Oakley responded, rising to his feet. “What about this?” He pointed to the top of his ear, which was now dripping blood onto his shoulder. Apparently one of the bird’s beaks had found a target.
“Voodoo magic,” Cush said as if this explained everything.
“What’s that supposed to mean? And what did you mean by her?”
“The crows were an illusion, but that doesn’t mean they can’t still cause damage. Just like the person who feels the “real” stab when the doll gets pricked, so can the Voodoo priestess cause damage from afar. She’s toying with us.”
“Toying with me is more like it,” responded the young man. “Okay, I’m convinced. We should have waited for the others. How are we going to get outta here?”
“I only wish I knew,” said Cush.
Lisa took a step forward, attempting to maneuver around Syndra. The light elf queen held out an arm, preventing her human friend from getting any closer to the dark elf, and Tamsin stepped around his Chosen to protect both females. Rezer had tossed out the information to see if the half elf meant anything to them. Tamsin knew that he was attempting to see if he had any leverage over them with the knowledge he possessed, and Lisa had handed him his answer on a silver platter.
“Did she tell you her name?” Lisa asked as she struggled against S
Tamsin turned and placed a hand on Lisa’s shoulder and whispered under his breath. Later, once things had calmed down, Tamsin knew that he would pay for his actions but it was for her own good. Lisa stilled, unable to take another step forward, as though her feet had been encased in concrete. She could still move her arms and speak, but Tamsin’s magic held her legs in place.
Lisa shot him a glare that would have had lesser men backing up. But Tamsin was not a man and, other than feeling bad because the human was his Chosen’s favorite friend, he was not bothered by her ire.
Tamsin looked back at the dark elf and did not like the interest with which Rezer watched Lisa. He could practically see the ideas forming in his mind, and the light elf king had a feeling he wasn’t going to like the conclusion Rezer came to.
“Something about you seems very familiar,” the dark elf murmured. He tilted his head slowly, examining Lisa as though she was a new toy that he was all too eager to play with. “Have I met you before?”
“She’s not from this city. There’s no way you could have ever met her.” Syndra scoffed. “Not to mention, she’s human.”
“Not entirely.” His eyes zeroed in on Lisa like a hawk sighting its prey. Rezer clucked his tongue and moved his finger back and forth like a pendulum at the light elf queen. “You’ve been a naughty girl, dearest queen. What spell is it you have cast on this one to prolong her life so?”
Tamsin felt Syndra tense next to him and when he looked back at her, he saw that Lisa’s eyes had become large round saucers, and if her mouth opened any wider, her jaw would be resting on the club floor. He reached over and took his Chosen’s hand and reached for her mind.
“I was not aware that Rezer was that powerful.” Tamsin didn’t have to point out to his Chosen just how odd it was to find a dark elf hiding away in the human realm with enough power to sense hidden spells. Then again, Rezer’s power might be why he was hiding away in the first place. Lorsan did not take kindly to other dark elves having enough magic to challenge him. It would not have been surprising, had Rezer stayed in the dark elf realm, to find that the elf had mysteriously come up missing.