Maysant screamed at the elf who had so blatantly ignored her commands. “I am Queen Ambrielle’s daughter! You will do as I say!”
Amusement danced in the elf’s eyes. “I’m already doing as the queen commands. If you are who you say, you know she wouldn’t take kindly to me ignoring her orders. Now move along. The shield will be completed in moments.”
“I have something that will halt this disease in its tracks,” Maysant insisted. “If you’d give my friends time to get beyond this limit, then you can finish lowering your shield. Please.”
“I promised the queen I’d do this now, and so I shall. She said no one comes in or out!” The elf thrust her arms in the air. “Go away!”
Maysant’s shoulders dropped. Everything she did was a complete failure. She had befriended Benin, who promptly left her for her mother’s service. She had made Ghrol run away. She couldn’t even get Hugh’s body back like she’d promised Hilthe. Nishta was right about her. She was a waste of air.
She slogged back to Hilthe, Nishta, and Gashta.
“What happened?” Nishta asked, her voice quivering with anger.
Maysant shrank back, sure the orc would rip her arms from her body when she told them. “I tried to tell her. I swear it. But she wouldn’t listen!” Tears spilled from her eyes and poured down her cheeks in an embarrassing stream. “The shield is almost complete. We’ve failed. I’m bad luck. I ruin everything.” The words came out between sobs and gasps for air.
“Buck up, child,” Hilthe said. “And before I say another word, I know you are older than me. But you certainly aren’t as wise. I’ll handle this.”
Hilthe hiked up her skirt and sprinted to an elf with speed belying her age. Maysant watched as the human approached the elf, then proceeded to talk, not letting the elf respond. Hilthe kept going until the elf nodded.
Hilthe waved to them, and hope surged in Maysant’s heart, brushing away the feeling of defeat.
“Let me help,” she said to the two orcs. She grabbed Hugh’s middle as Nishta and Gashta hefted him into their arms.
The three of them moved quickly to Hilthe’s side. The elf looked down at Maysant. “Your human friend has convinced me to let you in. I’ll hold this open for a few more moments, but you may not leave after that. Do you understand? Once I speak the final words, the barrier will be closed, and opening it will cause a rend I will be unable to fix. The entire barrier will shatter. Queen Ambrielle has ordered the barrier remain intact until the disease is cured.”
“We understand,” Hilthe answered. “Thank you.”
“Ready?” the elf asked.
She dropped one hand and pointed her palm toward the orange barrier. She twirled her wrist three times, then flicked her fingers. A tear appeared in the barrier.
“Go, now.”
The four ran through the hole. As soon as Gashta was through, the elf closed the hole behind them.
“There is much you do not know,” the elf said, “but you will learn soon enough, I’m sure. Now, go. Do what you have come to do...”
The elf muttered words Maysant didn’t understand, then clapped her hands together once. A loud snap reverberated inside the barrier as the boundaries took hold. Now nothing, and no one, could get in or out.
Maysant walked with her new friends to the general’s tent. Whereas most elves despised orcs, Maysant liked them. She genuinely wanted to stop the spread of this disease; she wanted them to get better. And once they were cured… well, then she could figure out where her life would go next. Likely she would have to return home.
Her heart was heavy at the thought of leaving Ghrol behind. She knew she might never find the human again, but she still hoped that perhaps he would turn up. She wanted to apologize for yelling at him. He was simple and only trying to protect her. He hadn’t meant to kill those orcs. It wasn’t in his nature to be cruel for cruelty’s sake.
General Dalgron emerged from his tent, grimacing. “You’re back. Good job, Gashta and Nishta.” He craned his neck. “Where are the two warriors I sent with you?”
Nishta shot a glare at Maysant. “This elf’s human companion killed them. Tore them limb from limb before they even had a chance to fight back.”
Dalgron turned to Maysant, clasping his hands behind his back. “Explain yourself, elf. And I only give you the chance to do so because your kind is here helping us fight this disease.”
“Ghrol is simple,” Maysant said quickly. “He doesn’t know what he does. If I had been able to stop him, I would have.” She told the truth where others might have lied to save their skin. She wouldn’t do that.
“And where is this Ghrol?” Dalgron asked. “Did you dispose of him, Nishta?”
“No, sir, he ran away before we could stop him. I am sorry I failed you. I should have returned with his head.” Nishta bowed her head in shame.
“No matter,” Dalgron said. “We will spread the word throughout our troops. As soon as this disease is eradicated and we leave the barrier, we will find him and deal with him.”
Maysant felt her stomach sink. Ghrol hadn’t meant to do anything wrong. Why wouldn’t anyone ever listen to her?
“Now tell me, Hilthe,” Dalgron said, turning to the human female, “how does this work?”
“With Alyna, all it took was wrapping a strand of Hugh’s hair about her finger. She began to get well within hours.” The old woman nearly bounced with anticipation. She was so sure Hugh’s relics would help. “I ask permission to try it on a few of your orcs.”
“Granted,” Dalgron said. “I already found some willing to volunteer. Not every orc will agree to this—at least not until they see some proof it works. We tend to be skeptical of humans, as you know.”
Hilthe nodded. “I understand and respect that. I, too, am often skeptical of my own people.”
“Three tents over to the left, you’ll find Logrut. He has agreed to try first. Gashta, will you accompany Hilthe?”
“Of course, General,” Gashta said.
“And me? What will you have me do?” Nishta asked. She seemed nervous at being separated from her sister.
“I need you to join me in a council meeting. I have a special task for you.” Dalgron then turned to Maysant. “As for you, stay out of my way.”
“With all due respect, General,” Maysant said, calling on all her strength, “I would like to attend this council meeting. I feel I can be of use to you. I am Queen Ambrielle’s daughter, Maysant.”
She heard Nishta gasp behind her.
Dalgron’s eyes grew large. “Really? A princess of Gailwyn? But it doesn’t help your case. The queen—your mother, if you’re telling the truth—hasn’t even been invited. If Kazrack asked, I’d turn him down flat. Why on Doros would I include you?”
Maysant steeled her hands into fists at her sides. “Because I am not like them. I am my own elf, and I want to be of use to you.”
Dalgron looked at Nishta, apparently asking for her input. Worry filled Maysant’s chest. Nishta hated her. She would never, not in a million years, endorse Maysant.
Nishta shrugged. “So far, this ridiculous little elf has been nothing but brutally honest. I have no reason to doubt her now. I suppose it couldn’t hurt to have her join us.”
Maysant’s jaw dropped.
Dalgron narrowed his eyes at Maysant. “Then you may join us. Come.” He went inside his tent, the canvas flap falling behind him.
Maysant turned to Nishta. “Why did you do that?” she asked.
Nishta looked uncomfortable. “I don’t know. Just don’t embarrass me—or you won’t live to regret it.” Her lips curled, her tusks bared.
“I won’t. I swear it.”
Maysant barreled into the tent, determined to finally be of use to someone.