Elessan stepped around yet another dead bird laying in the grass, tracking four sets of footprints in the dirt. The morning sun poured its heat onto his back, as though mocking the ice in his heart.
Something terrible had happened here.
Where was she?
One of Tsara’s scouts called out ahead, so he picked up his pace.
“Over here,” the man said. “I found their camp.”
Elessan broke into the clearing, nodding at the scout, whose name he’d never bothered to learn. A pile of dew-damp wood lay in the middle of the space, with a discarded set of flint and steel in the tall grass.
“There was some sort of scuffle.” Tsara pointed as she stepped beside him.
Elessan narrowed his eyes. They’d tied Aliya to the tree. She’d spent several hours curled up in a ball, laying on her side.
When he caught up to them, they’d be dead before the intruders knew what hit them.
“Princess, I found this.” The elf clutched a silver container, about half the length of Elessan’s forearm.
Tsara’s lips thinned, and her eyebrows drew together as she took the canister and held it in the sun. She passed the tube to Elessan. “Any idea what this is?”
He turned the metal cylinder over in his hands. What a strange contraption. Unfamiliar symbols wrapped around the edges. One end jiggled a little in his hand. Giving the top a slow turn, the cap clicked into place. Nothing happened.
Elessan shrugged. “I’ve never seen anything like this. It resembles a courier case, but the ends don’t come off, and the tube’s too bulky for official correspondence. Besides, messenger canisters aren’t made of silver, they’re tin or leather.” He tried to return it to Tsara, but she shook her head and turned away. With a shrug, he shoved the unusual find into his backpack.
“There’s nothing else here,” she said. “We should move on.”
Elessan frowned, exhaling through his nose. She was right. Without Aliya, he had no reason to linger. He studied the clearing. “They went this way.”
Hours later, as the last of their scouting party disappeared back into the forest, Elessan pushed himself up from his knees. “I can’t tell for sure.” He kicked at the tall grass. “Valek! Why couldn’t they have parked their…whatever-it-was in the dirt?”
Tsara scowled at his temper. “It has four wheels and needs two horses—it’s obviously a cart. You say it sat here for several days?”
He nodded. “But I can’t tell if they used a carriage, a wagon, or a prison transport.”
She shrugged. “Does it matter? What way did they go?”
Of course it mattered. The information would give him a definite answer as to Aliya’s situation. He pointed down the road. “They went southwest.” Toward King Malkov’s castle. They were probably only a few hours ahead of him, but it would be hard to catch up with them. Unless… “Any chance of snagging some horses?”
Tsara raised an eyebrow and, with an exaggerated head turn, stared in each direction. The edge of the forest marking the border to the human lands disappeared, uninterrupted, into the distance.
He sighed. It was unlikely. Any villages in the borderlands had long since been abandoned.
He turned in a circle, comparing the sun to the mountains. “I could be mistaken, but I think we have an outpost a few miles west.” He glanced at her. “We may be able to commandeer mounts there.”
Tsara studied him for several seconds, her lips pressed into a thin line, before she nodded. “Very well. If we can find the settlement, and they have horses, I’ll allow the appropriation.”
Elessan slumped as he exhaled. “Thank you.”
She hefted her pack higher on her shoulders. As they headed down the road, Tsara peered at him from the corner of her eyes. “You’re certain they’re taking her back to Lions Grove? And not somewhere more…discreet?”
He brushed his hands off on his slacks and shrugged. “That’s my best guess. They’re going to be impossible to track on the roadway, or to tell if they take one of the turn-offs. The main route leads straight to King’s City.” There was plenty of room in the castle to hold a prisoner. And if the king took Aliya elsewhere, there was no chance they’d be able to locate her before it was too late.
Lead congealed in his stomach. He shook his head, setting the second possibility aside. He would make the most of the information he had. Distracting himself with worst-case scenarios wouldn’t help Aliya.
Tsara threw him a wicked smile and sped up her pace. “Then let’s find this outpost of yours.”
The sun hung four finger-widths lower in the sky, burning into Elessan’s shoulders as he stood, jaw slack, in the entrance to the outpost.
