Page 93 of To Kill a King
Someone hissed behind them. “Both of you shut up, will ya? Yer yammering’ll bring the elves right to us.”
Aliya frowned. The voice was female. She hadn’t noticed any women among their attackers.
But then, she hadn’t really been paying attention to details like that.
Keeping her arms loose, she pulled them apart and met the cold resistance of the iron manacles. Well, she wasn’t expecting her captors to be stupid enough to take them off while she was unconscious, but a girl could hope.
The metallic clink of gears in a hollow canister sounded near her ear.
Stephen, the man carrying her, whirled around. “What are you doing? You can’t set one of those off here. We’re way too close to Filathas.”
“He’s right,” Brooks said. “Put it away, Anabelle.”
“This is the only way to make sure we’re not followed,” the female said.
Aliya’s blood turned to ice. Elessan would surely track her as soon as he realized she’d been taken. If her kidnappers had some way to murder anyone who came after them, she may be the cause of Elessan’s death, as well.
She bit her lower lip to hold back a cry.
Brooks’ footsteps passed around Stephen. A scuffle ensued and Annabelle swore under her breath. “What do you care? A few more elves will die. So what?”
“If we kill everyone in Filathas, it’ll provoke the fae to attack before we’re ready. Our heads’ll roll. I’ll be holding the Whisperer for now, I think.”
Aliya frowned. What in the mages was a Whisperer?
She opened her eyes, peeking between her lashes. Long grass and brambles rushed by on either side of their path.
“We need to stop somewhere for the night,” Stephen said. “I don’t wanna continue carrying her dead weight.”
“Awww,” Annabelle said, “is the little bitty girl too heavy for you?”
Aliya bit down on a bitter laugh. If only she’d drunk enough water to quadruple her size. A five-hundred-pound prisoner would put a serious kink in the assassins’ plan.
Brooks growled. “Will y’all quit your bickering before I decide to cut my losses and kill the both of you?”
No. Keep up the infighting. Maybe someone would pull a weapon on the others and the group would degenerate into a full-out brawl so she could escape.
Her first step was to find out if her shapeshifting still worked through the iron and antimonite manacles. Though she couldn’t adjust her density, she might be able to alter her looks. But she needed to be subtle. If the woman behind her noticed anything awry, she’d lose her best chance of surprising them.
As a child, one of her maids had suffered from rheumatism in her hands. She could try to change one of her knuckles in a similar way.
She squeezed her eyes closed and concentrated. Stephen stumbled, his shoulder digging into her stomach. Aliya opened her eyes and sighed. Her hand appeared the same as before.
She bit back a groan as fear stirred in her gut. Subtle changes were harder than drastic ones. She may be better off drinking more water and waiting until everyone fell asleep.
The world heaved without warning, and she flew through the air, hitting the ground with a thud as the breath exploded from her lungs. She groaned but managed to keep from opening her eyes.
“I’m done. We stop here for the night.” From the sound of his voice, Stephen stood above her, brushing his hands against his pants.
“You idiot,” the woman hissed. “If you damage her, the king’ll claim all our heads!”
Footsteps approached. Brooks. “Damnit. Do you see anywhere around here to camp?”
Stephen cleared his throat. “Ain’t elven forests supposed to adapt to our requirements? I say we need a campsite.”
“We aren’t elves,” the inquisitor said. “The trees don’t give a rat’s ass what happens to us.”
Aliya cracked one eye open to peer at the three kidnappers. She wasn’t human and had been welcomed in Filathas. Hopefully the forest would welcome her, too.