CHAPTER 8

Eleven years ago

They were comfortably ten and the city that rose up in front of them was that of a dream—or a nightmare. Neither twin was entirely certain yet. On the one hand, this was everything the stories they’d begged for talked about and more. The verdant city in front of them was magnificent and awe inspiring, with spires and citadels that towered over the jade-green walls, and such finery and power that the trees themselves seemed to bend and give way to it. The buildings nestled securely in the embrace of the mountains, as though they’d been hewn out of the rocks or were grown from them. It was full of magic and full of grace.

On the other hand, it wasn’t home.

Their fellow travelers straightened in recognition of their imminent arrival, but all the twins could do was to reach out to each other and entwine their fingers.

These last few days, they’d seen more of the world than they knew existed, and neither one of them knew exactly how to deal with it. Vex withdrew further within herself, speaking only with her brother and even then barely. Vax contemplated all the ways he knew how to escape this company, grab his sister, and bring them both back to the only world they needed.

“Syngorn is a wondrous place,” the elven guard to Vax’s right said quietly. “You’ll find a home here, even if it may take some getting used to.”

Out of the three guards that showed up at their doorstep with a letter from their father, Tharyn had been the youngest and the only one to initiate conversations with the twins. When they camped together on their way here, Tharyn had sat down next to them by the fire, comfortably quiet and whittling away at a small wooden horse. They answered the twins’ questions with a ready smile and nothing of the distance that the other two guards showed. They told the twins about the beauty of Syngorn, new stories about the Gladepools, and scary tales about the dense, dark part of the forest they passed, where all the trees seemed knotted and twisted and hungry.

“Your father is a well-respected man,” they continued. “And being part of his household will offer you opportunities that you may never have found back in your village home. He’ll make sure you have the best education Syngorn can offer, and connections far beyond your wildest dreams.”

Vex’s hand twitched inside her brother’s, and Vax peeked up at Tharyn. The elf spoke with sincerity, as best as Vax could tell. They’d tied their long auburn hair back in a single tail and they stared up at the city with a reverence so intense it made Vax’s stomach ache, because it was the sight of someone who’d left to see the world a hundred times—if their stories were to be believed—but never saw a sight so perfect as their first glimpse of home again.

The two other guards rode on ahead of them, leaving Tharyn with the twins, while they announced their arrival at the imposing gates, warded with deep blue sigils.

“Will there be others like us?” Vex asked quietly.

Tharyn looked at her and furrowed their brow. “Children? Yes, some, for our lives are long and our Dreamweavers take great care in selecting the right parents for our next generations. But you’ll find others your age, I’m quite certain.”

Vex bit her lip, leaving Vax to ask the question he was sure his sister had meant. “Will there be other half-elves like us?”

A shadow crossed over Tharyn’s face, and for the first time they looked uncomfortable. They threw a glance in the direction of the other guards, who were not quite out of earshot, and their hazel eyes were guarded. “Not many. You will be the only ones that I know of.”

“Why? Are there no other people than elves in Syngorn?”

“There are a few with the High Warden’s leave to stay inside our walls, so long as they respect our customs. They are visitors, and they keep to themselves. None but elves are citizens of Syngorn.” It was quite clear that there were other things Tharyn couldn’t say—or wouldn’t say—and frankly, the idea that they would be the only ones was disturbing enough. Byroden may look like a scruffy village compared with the might and glamour of this place, but they’d never been alone. Feena’s father was a half-elf too, and she had pointier ears than any of her brothers. Though it had never been spoken out loud, everyone in town was convinced Duncan had not just halfling but gnomish heritance. No one batted an eye at mixed family trees, because they all considered one another neighbors.

When the guards in front of them turned and beckoned them forward, Vex sat up straight all of a sudden and she looked at Tharyn intently. “Does that mean we’ll be considered visitors too?”

Tharyn grimaced at that. They nudged their horse in the direction of the gates and their shoulders dropped. They didn’t look back at the two of them when they answered. “You have the High Warden’s permission to stay, at the bequest of your father. You are welcome here.”

When the eldest guard—a gray-haired female elf with broad shoulders and proud eyes—announced them to the watchers at the gate as “Ambassador Syldor’s half-elf children” and those words were met with frowns and disgust, Vax doubted every single word of that welcome. But all he could do was tighten his grip on his sister’s fingers and follow their guards into the city and to the home of their father.

INSIDE THE WALLS, SYNGORN WAS as beautiful as Tharyn had promised it to be. The houses and other buildings showed a level of craftsmanship that every farmer in Byroden would eye with jealousy and, perhaps, a hint of practical suspicion as well. The grace of the buildings was that of the forest around them: ageless and unconquerable.

But it wasn’t the buildings that took Vex’s breath away. It was the vastness of it all. With the sun high overhead, the white citadel in the distance shone like a beacon and the city stretched as far as the eye could see. The sunlight also refracted on the lake in the center of the city, causing the calm waters to sparkle vibrantly. The occasionally blinding light didn’t stop elves from wandering along the lakeshore, or traversing it in small, colorful boats. A family of three—two sharply dressed, dark-skinned elves and a girl a few years younger than the twins—stepped into a narrow boat with violet flowers strung on the side, using some kind of magic spell to propel them onto the lake. Vex could hear their voices and laughter echo across the water, as though no one here had a care in the world.

Syngorn was a place of promise, and above all else that was why she and her brother had followed their father’s instructions. The promise of a better life and a future far beyond what Byroden could offer them. But with every elf they passed who looked at them with sneering contempt, that promise morphed and twisted into something far less palatable, and all she wanted to do was run home again.

“It’ll be better once we get to our father’s home,” Vax whispered, so quietly Vex doubted anyone but she could hear.

“He’ll accept us,” she said. “It’s why he invited us to come in the first place, right?”

“He said so in the letter he sent Mother. We’ll want for nothing.” Vax’s voice took on an edge of determined desperation.

But when their traveling companions guided them to the eastern side of the city, where the houses were large and imposing, meticulously crafted to mirror the proud, tall trees, their unease grew. As with every enterprising child in Byroden, there were times when they’d played the wrong prank, angered the wrong person, and were made to feel small. They felt smaller here and more vulnerable than ever before.

Especially so when Tharyn pointed out Syldor’s house to them: a mansion easily three times the size of their old home, with cracked white marble walls and a jade-shingled roof. Ivy climbed up every wall and circled the high windows, and a handful of large red trees were placed around the building like ancient sentries. Small, strawberry-colored birds darted between the branches.

“This will be your new home,” Tharyn said. “Your father will have been informed of your arrival.”

If that was the case, there was no sign of it. The door remained closed when they rode up to the building, where the twins dismounted and the three Verdant Guards remained in the saddle.

“We’ll leave you here,” the gray-haired woman said, with no hint of kindness or consideration. “The horses are the ambassador’s. He’ll see to their—and your—care.”

“We can wait until they’re inside,” Tharyn argued, with little force behind their words.

“Our duty was to see them to the ambassador’s home safely. That ends here. We have other duties to see to, Tharyn.” The last words held a note of warning.

Tharyn colored slightly and straightened. They adjusted their uniform and nodded once in the direction of the twins. “Goodbye then. I wish you well here.”

“Thank you,” Vex whispered, her throat clenched tight. Next to her, Vax had pressed his lips together in a thin line, and he turned away from the guards. She reached for him. “Let’s go.”

Vax clung to her hand. He tightened the traveling cloak their mother had made for them around his shoulders and flinched at the sound of horseshoes retreating on the road. “Let’s go back.”

It was an alluring option, and she imagined it for a moment—turning around and giving in to her inclination to sneak back past the gates and find a way home through the forest. “We can’t. We should try to stay here, right? It’ll be good for us. It’s a chance for a better life.”

It was what Tharyn had told them. It was what their father had written. It was what their mother had said, when she’d wrapped her arms around them and whispered she wanted only the very best for them.

“I don’t want a better life. I want our life,” Vax said. He pulled away, and lines of tension still crawled along his shoulders and spine.

“We’ll have to make this ours. At least for now.” Vex breathed in deeply, the air as potent and powerful as everything around them, and stepped up to the door.

Before she could knock—or before her brother could stop her—the door swung open and a young man stepped aside to reveal the same elven traveler they’d seen in Byroden so many months ago.

Syldor Vessar looked different here. He’d traded in his practical traveling gear for heavy brown robes with golden embroidery. The long sleeves were cut open to show fine gold silk underneath, and the garment’s high neck made him appear taller. Sterner too, if that was at all possible, for the way he looked at his children was nothing like the way he’d looked at Elaina. He regarded their travel-worn appearance with distaste and snapped his fingers to the other elf—who appeared to be a servant of some sort. “See to their horses and whatever belongings they carry. Discard their clothes and find them something more suitable. Son, daughter, come in.”

It wasn’t so much a request as an order, and Syldor turned, clearly expecting it to be followed. The servant took the horses from the pair of them and led the mounts away. The door stayed open, reminding the twins to follow their father.

Vex swallowed her hurt, even as she felt her brother’s anger radiate. She took a step back, purposefully aiming to land on top of her brother’s foot, and she hissed, “We have to try to make this life ours. Mother expects it of us.”

“I hate him already,” he bristled.

“Maybe he’s just not used to us yet. He didn’t even know we existed. Give him time.”

“He’s had six months. He could’ve chosen to keep out of our lives.”

She reached for his sleeve and tugged him in the direction of the building. “It’ll be fine.”

“You don’t know that,” he threw back.

She didn’t answer. She didn’t know that. But it had to be, because it was the only reason this trip and leaving everything behind was worth it. Besides which, he was family. Did that not count for something? This wasn’t supposed to take them away from their home, but be a home too.

But when they walked through the wide hallway, with light filtering in through the overhead windows, the walls paneled with wood, and the comforting smell of cedar wrapping around them, it felt like they were trespassing.

At the end of the hallway, past a number of closed doors, Syldor stood in the opening to a large office. With his arms folded and his eyebrows quirked, his impatience was palpable. “Get in. Sit down.”

He closed the door behind him and took his place behind a large wooden desk. It was as artfully made as any of the buildings they passed, with the legs carved like branches and the handles to the countless small drawers like leaves inlaid with emeralds. Two of the walls were covered in bookshelves, with tomes and scrolls from ceiling to floor. The wall perpendicular to the door boasted a long and narrow window, equally as tall as the shelves, with stained decorations along the edges and a view of a forgotten herb garden, while the last wall had a large painting of a beautiful lake, shimmering in the pale light of the moons. On one of the shelves, in front of a row of books bound in red leather, stood two charcoal drawings of elves, without any markings or names to identify them.

Everything about this house could be beautiful, Vex realized. Instead it was as cold as the reception they got.

Syldor rested his hands on the desk and leaned in their direction. “I appreciate that your mother chose the wiser path in sending you here. Your existence came as a surprise to me, or I would’ve acted sooner, but you are still young enough that all hope is not lost.”

Vax cleared his throat, his expression defiant. “What does that mean?”

“Your education is abysmal, even for ones such as yourself,” Syldor continued, as if Vax hadn’t spoken at all. “I’ve already seen to it that you will be given the finest tutoring and schooling in the land, until such time that you can learn among others your age and not bring shame upon my name.”

“Wouldn’t that be our name?” Vax pressed. He’d raised his chin, and only Vex could see how hard his hands were trembling. Although neither of them had known what to expect from this meeting, they’d surely not expected this.

Syldor’s mouth thinned. “Of course. Our name.”

He twisted the bracelet around his wrist and stared past his children. “Once Alin has seen to your horses, he will show you to your rooms. Your tutor will arrive in the morning. You will not leave the house unless you have my express permission. You will not dress in those peasant clothes anymore. You will not disturb me during my meetings or my work.” His gaze snapped to Vex, and she could only imagine how she must look to him. Dirty, unworthy, and on the verge of tears. All her thoughts were tangled together with hurt and confusion and contempt at the small part of her that had been cautiously excited about meeting her father. She’d wanted him to be pleased to meet them, to realize how much he could care for them, and what a wondrous thing it could be to become a family together.

She pressed her fingernails in the palms of her hands and did the only thing she could do: tilt her head like her brother and refuse to blink.

He sniffed and took a scroll from the case next to him. “You are welcome here. Now leave me.”