“Mother damn you, girl. This could have been quick, painless. Yield to me and it will be over in a heartbeat,” the Shadojak said as he stalked around the bench.
“Yield? So I can make it easier for you?” Elora growled, circling around the bench, keeping it between them. “I am not that girl. My blood does not catch fire.”
Without thinking she brought her dagger down on her own hand. The blade cut deep into her palm, blood welling around its point. She didn’t mean for it to sink in so far but like Grendel had warned her, Valerian steel had a sharp edge. Yet the wound hurt no more than a simple paper cut.
“See? It doesn’t burn, it’s normal blood,” she said, holding her palm up, the blood flowing around her fingers in dark streams.
Diagus paused but didn’t lower his weapon. “You may have lost your powers Elora, but it’s too dangerous to let you live. What if he returns and awakens your abilities? I’ve got to make the balance. Is your life worth more than all the lives on Earth? On Thea? Because that’s what it comes down to. Your life for Theirs.”
She hadn’t thought of it like that. He was right of course. And now she understood why her uncle had kept her hidden. There were those who would kill her, those who would use her. If she hadn’t sung that day in Gloucester, none of this would have happened. But she had, the damage was done and there was no changing that now, no going back. She doubted she could live with herself if anybody got hurt or died because of her.
“I yield,” she said, dropping the knife. She wouldn’t risk the lives of anybody, let alone two worlds’ worth.
Slowly she stepped around the bench and made herself kneel before Diagus, bending her head low and exposing her neck. “Make it quick,” she murmured, feeling too stunned, too numb to be scared. Perhaps it was for the best. Shutting her eyes, she waited for oblivion.
“No,” Otholo barked. “She could be useful.”
“I’ve judged her, and the balance doesn’t way up. I don’t want this any more than you, but the girl can’t live.”
“Yet she maybe the only person who can stop him.”
Elora let out breath she’d been holding - was there a hope she may live after all?”
“Explain,” said the Shadojak, sword still hovering above her neck.
“Solarius maybe her father but she still has the purist Minuan blood of anyone alive today. As pure as Minu’s daughter’s blood. If she were to sing the Eversong at the well in the High Church, it would strengthen the barrier that binds him. Making it as strong as it was over a thousand years ago.”
Silence engulfed them and Elora could almost hear the Shadojak’s brain working as he mulled Otholo’s words over.
“Can it be done?” Diagus demanded.
“Well, you would need to get to Thea, travel to Aslania and pass...”
“If she was to get to the well in the High Church, would it work?” Diagus asked more firmly.
“Yes.”
Elora glanced up and stared straight into the grim face of the Pearly White.
“Would you do this Elora? Would you sing this...Eversong that binds your father?”
“Yes,” she answered.
Diagus put his sword away and offered the empty hand to Elora, “So be it. But crossing me will be the undoing of you.”
She took his hand and allowed herself to be pulled to her feet, her legs feeling weak now that her life had been given back. She nodded to the Shadojak, showing that she understood, then slumped next to Otholo on the bench.
He offered her his bottle and this time she took it, putting it to her lips and taking a big gulp, then choked on the foul-tasting stuff.
“The second drink always tastes better,” laughed Otholo.
She tried a second time and swallowed the liquid, feeling it burn as it passed her throat. “Thanks for saving my life,” she said, passing the bottle back.
“Don’t thank me just yet. Chances are you’ll die before reaching Aslania,” he replied before up-ending the bottle and then dropped it to the ground. He then shuffled closer to her and took her injured hand in his and delicately wiped the blood from the cut with his handkerchief. “That’s some knife,” he said, placing the blood-soaked rag on the bench arm.
“Valerian steel,” put in Diagus, picking it up from the ground and handing it to her handle first. “And I see Grendel gave you a smuggler’s pouch.”
Elora was about to plea for Grendel, not wanting her to get into trouble when Diagus held up a hand. “It’s fine. only don’t get caught by any city guards on Thea.”
Diagus’s phone rang before she had chance to ask why.
“Did you find the sea witch?” he asked, the reply deepening his scowl. Elora couldn’t hear the person on the other end of the phone but guessed it was Bray. “Sixteen leviathans? Why?... They sing at dawn? That will be anytime now...Elora? What’s the girl to you? Solarius is alive, she is his daughter. I’ll explain more when we next meet...I’ve judged her already...” Diagus removed the phone from his ear and checked the display before placing it back. “Hello? Bray?” He shrugged his shoulders and placed the phone away. “Lost his signal.”
“Was that your She-girl?”
“Shaigun,” Elora corrected. Then caught Diagus’s glare.
“That boy seems too interested in you,” he said.
Otholo laughed. “That boy thinks you’ve killed her,” he explained to Diagus. “The line went dead right after you said you’d judged her.”
Again, Diagus shrugged his shoulders. “Probably for the best. He’ll be taking my blade over before too long. Then he will have no time for girls.”
Elora felt suddenly cold. Did Bray have feelings for her? The Shadojak seemed to think so and nobody knew Bray better. But now he thinks she was dead. Would he care? Would he shed a tear for me? She wanted Diagus to ring him back and tell her she was alive but couldn’t think of a good enough reason to ask him, other than for her own emotions.
“Sixteen leviathan,” Otholo said. “When do they sing?”
“What do you know about leviathans?” asked Diagus, taking the cognac from the bard and drinking deeply.
