“Your Majesty,” I said, bowing to the king pacing back and forth around the massive white stone throne. “Have you any news?”

  “None. None!” Aelir was a mere moment away from a panicked outburst, a wholly understandable reaction for a young father. “Nothing in the nursery was touched, no signs of a struggle, just the empty cups that the children, Vilde, and Tezen drank from. If my children are not found soon…”

  The threat was clear. I nodded, ready to return to the barracks to change into armor. Teryn arrived behind us just as the thick doors of the throne room opened yet again. We all turned, hopeful, but saw only the small crew of the ambassador’s ship being herded like sheep at swordpoint.

  “Lower those weapons,” I barked as a robust male with bangles galore clad in naught but a short skirt of bright blue, sporting a round gut with ink markings that I could not read, barreled up to me, his big belly bouncing off my stomach. On his hip hung a scabbard with a dangerously large dagger. “Sir, I suggest you step back now.”

  “Porgo, please do not add to the tensions,” Teryn called out, walking over to slide himself between me and the bald elf. “Captain, this is Porgo, the captain of the Simin Draya. I shall assume responsibility for all Sandrayans who ventured here with me.” With that, the ship’s captain eased back a few steps, his seafoam eyes snapping. “I will state now for all in this room to hear,” Teryn announced loudly, his gaze touching mine for a brief moment before his attention went to Aelir and his advisors. “I personally chose each and every member of this diplomatic team myself and shall vouch for their integrity.”

  “So says you, but please explain to us why it is that every time something foul happens to those here in Avolire, your people’s dark magicks and poisons are involved?!” Umeris, in his sleeping robes, long silver hair knotted, barked down at the Sandrayans. I climbed the stairs to stand with my king, leaving Teryn standing below with his people. It felt a deep cut indeed, but my fealty was to my ruler. My friend. My king. “When the previous ruler of Melowynn fell face first into his food, it was discovered that your heathen herbs had been used to kill our king!”

  Le’ral winced at the rather tasteless description of his beloved’s death. Aelir resumed pacing, his sleeping gown covered with a thin robe of white and blue, his hair brushing the backs of his thighs with each step.

  “While it is true that many use our herbs for nefarious reasons, those in this contingency would not,” Teryn stated firmly, his attention fully on the three with the most power. Aelir could easily have them all thrown into the dark, damp dungeons below the castle. I prayed he would not. “Your Majesty, if I may offer the services of my son in any capacity. He is well versed in all of our native plants, their uses in potions and the treatment of those exposed to the darker sides of their uses. Your men said the pixie is close to death. I imagine the dose given to the nanny and children might be a critical overdose for beings so petite.”

  The young man nodded, thumbing some black hair from his face as he approached the stairs leading to the throne. I stepped forward, hand reaching for the hilt of my sword, only to find nothing but air. My sword and shield were locked in my room with my armor. The huff of exasperation I wanted to let loose was muted. Teryn’s eyes flared in hurt. I chose not to let that flash of pain interrupt my duty. My life for the king’s was never without question.

  “Your Majesty, my father speaks the truth,” P’tash said softly, easing up to stand beside his sire. The son and the daughter resembled their father strongly, aside from a slight tilt of the corners of their eyes that must have come from their mother. A flash of curiosity about the woman who had captured Teryn’s heart flared to life. I squashed it like a bloated tick. This was not the place nor the time to fret over such things. “I have studied for over two hundred seasons with the best healers and potion makers of the Black Sands. If I could just verify that the additive to the evening milk was indeed that of the dark spear bloom, I can then quickly stir up a remedy.”

  I’llra appeared at her brother’s side. Her sleep shift wrinkled. Her face still bearing marks of where her cheek rested on her pillow. The family stood strong, proud, their expressions honest and open.

  “Pah!” Umeris coughed out. “The words of poisoners and kidnappers are not to be—”

  “Grandfather!” Aelir barked. The old elf fell into silence, his lips puckered. “We do not know for certain that the ambassador and his entourage are in any way responsible. I will not have centuries of distrust taint us even in this time of distress.”

  Fylson, in a worn shirt and common brown trousers with leather slippers, nodded quietly off to the side.

  “I cannot allow anyone to roam about alone until we have found my son and daughter, but I will not turn down skilled help. You all will be questioned if my children are not found. Guards take P’tash to the Hall of the Sanguine with all due haste.” I motioned to two of the royal guards to step forward. “Give him access to whatever tonics, herbs, and tomes the grand cleric has in his stores. If Grand Cleric Herren objects to his presence, tell him that the king commands it. That will stall the old toads croaking.”

  Teryn smiled sadly at his son before the boy rushed off with two of our guards. Side doors to the throne room opened, my cousin and five other members of the guards filing in. Aelir spun to them as they stopped to lower their heads and place a fist to their chests. “Tell me you have found them.”

  “No, Your Majesty, there is no sign of them anywhere in the castle,” Rolim announced as his sight darted to me. I nodded at the news, unwilling to let my growing concern worry the king and his grandfather even more. “We have searched every room, under every bed, even climbed to the upper tiers of the royal library to no avail.”

  Aelir looked stricken. Alone as he was without his queen or her consorts, he would have to shoulder this burden with only his grandsire to offer him succor until his loved ones could return.

  “Then spread out across the town. I want the city guards to be summoned immediately. They are to sweep through the city like a plague! My son and daughter are missing. Ihdos only knows what harm could come to them!”

  I gave my cousin a quick nod. Teryn, seemingly calm as a radish from the field, took a tentative step closer to the throne. Just one bare foot on the first step. His gaze touched mine. I did not move.

  “Your Majesty, if I may be so bold, might I be shown the nursery? The guards said that the children were taken from there, so perhaps there may be a clue or a scent trail to pick up?”

  Umeris scoffed. “Scent trail. What foolishness. Are you a hound as well as a kidnapper and poisoner?!”

  Teryn stiffened at the accusation. His daughter gasped.

  “No, I am not a hound, but I do possess a keen nose. If you will permit me to use it to aid in the search for the prince and princess, I would be most happy to assist.”

  Umeris began to bluster when a coughing fit took the wind from him. He hacked up some dark fluid into a white cloth, his eyes wide and watery.

  Aelir summoned Jaska. Umeris waved his personal guard off.

  “We’ll not have…your sand magicks in…this keep,” Umeris gasped into his cloth.

  “Teryn, I am sure that whatever assistance you can offer would be appreciated,” Aelir said, his attention darting to his grandfather before coming back to us. Umeris looked to argue but could not due to his breathing troubles.

  “Thank you, Your Majesty. I would ask that Pasil remain at my side?”

  Aelir bobbed his head, fell to one knee beside his grandfather, and took the old elf’s wrinkled hand. Teryn then whispered to his daughter to stay here with their people, to calm them with her words of prayer. Ah, so the beautiful I’llra was a practitioner of their goddess Shamsira. What powers that imbued her with I could not say. We knew very little about the religion of our cousins, that knowledge deemed unholy by our church. Only recently had the wood elves and their druid magicks been accepted—in a small way—here in Celear.

  “Pasil, you shall go with Mahouk Nouradi.” Aelir then glanced at the visitors in our midst. “The rest of you shall remain here in the castle under guard for your own protection as well as ours. Until we can prove that none among you has taken my children, you are to remain under our watchful eye. You will be well fed and treated as the dignitaries that you are, but you are not to leave the suites you now sleep in. Please do not make me regret this offer of friendship given even as the gloom of suspicion envelopes us all.”

  “By your command,” I replied softly, my words floating off into the ether as the envoy from the Black Sand Isles moved a hand—the same hand that had stroked my cock not that long ago—in a slow circle. I stood torn between emotion and duty. The flash of pain when I’d placed myself in front of Aelir had been real, quickly covered, yes, but real. Knowing that I had caused this man, who had given of himself so freely, suffering did not sit well. But yet my oath of allegiance to keep my king safe was a solemn and holy responsibility. I felt as if I sat on one of the human teeter-totter toys.

  A small whirlwind of sand appeared, engulfing him, then settling. Where once stood a man, now stood a short fawn-colored canine, thick tail, enormous ears, one with a long chain dangling from it, and a small, pointed snout with a black nose. Those of us who were not used to the druidic ways of shaping their forms gasped as the fox trotted out from amid Teryn’s robes, shook its fur, and gazed up at me.

  “He wishes you to lead the way,” I’llra explained. Clearing the surprise from my mind, I nodded at the king.

  “Please find my children,” Aelir said, his voice shaky.

  “I shall do my best,” I vowed, turned on my heel, and made for the side door on the right. The fox darted ahead of me, placing its nose to the ground, its tail twitching as it sniffed the many footprints left behind. I’d heard many tales of Kenton’s husband, Beirich, an arch druid, shifting into a stag but had yet to see the transformation. Many of the wood elves could also take the form of animals. Those of us who had left the woods or had driven others to the Black Sands had long ago given up on the study of magical ways to embrace science and book knowledge.

  Talking to the fox now trotting along at my side seemed silly. He could not reply. We passed several maids. They gawked at the fox as we climbed stairwells that only the staff used. The nursery was a great, airy space, with large, high windows to allow the sun and sea breeze to rush in as the children played. As we entered it, the joy seemed to have withered. The guards posted outside gave me a short nod before entering with us and closing the door with a melancholy snap.

  “This is the nursery,” I told the fox. Teryn. He yipped, head tipped. “Yes, well, that was easily ascertained, since there are children’s tables, beds, and toys, I agree.” I threw the two young men in royal armor a dark look as if daring them to question why I was speaking to a Sandrayan fox with a bejeweled ear. “He is trained to find children lost in the desert,” I lied to my underlings. Teryn made a disgruntled canine sound.

  There was no sign of Tezen or Nanny Vilde as both were in the healing halls now. I offered up a prayer for my dear small friend and the old woman who always had a smile for anyone she saw. What vile person would offer up warmed milk laced with a paralytic? If the prince and princess of Melowynn were in the hands of an enemy, this country could be launched into turmoil over such an egregious act. I hoped it was not anyone of Sandrayan blood. Umeris would surely call for an attack on the isles, his dislike for any elf with differing skin and religion well known. Fylson and Aelir possessed calmer heads, but a father’s love would muddy a normally rational man. What the queen would do was unknown. Raewyn was normally levelheaded, but as with Aelir, she was a mother first and foremost. Wars had been fought for far less…

  The fox—Teryn—worked his pointed snout into the coverings on the small beds. His nose remained in the bedding for some time, his plush tail upright. The three mainlanders—and yes, the knowledge that I was now referring to myself and my people as such did not go unnoticed to me—waited silently.

  He then left the beds, jumping off with a pounce, then pressed his nose to the floor. Moving gracefully between small shoes, a tiny rag doll that the princess would be terribly upset to have left behind, and a wooden circus playset, Teryn sniffed about. Moving in circles, he padded this way and that. One of the younger guards began to whisper to his partner. I threw a dark look at him. His lips compacted instantly.

  A brisk yip pulled me from glowering at my men. Teryn stood by the far wall, his head pushed under an armoire of yellow moss oak, the doors ornately carved to show a crane fishing in a pond. He lay on his side to begin digging.

  “Come, help me move that wardrobe,” I said, jogging over to place my shoulder to the massive console. My guards came to my aid as Teryn skittered back, his plump tail lashing. The armoire moved slowly across the floor. Looking down, I saw small bits of toys—a tiny doll’s dress, a broken wooden warrior’s sword, an old, half-eaten plum tart. “If you have made us move that monstrosity over a mouse-chewed tart…”

  Teryn kicked the tart aside with his back leg and began digging frantically at the stone wall.

  “Captain, may we ask why we are following the dictates of a fox?” the young man with brown curls tentatively asked. I had not the time or the patience to explain.

  “No,” I said as Teryn curled back a lip to begin chewing on an irregular bit of stonework. I knelt down to run my fingers over the off-colored block. The limestone was indeed out of place, rough and not as pure white as the rest of the stonework. My fingertips found a small divot on the top. I pressed on the indentation. The door slid open without a sound to reveal a dark doorway large enough for one thin elf. I sat back on my heels, trying to puzzle out how a door this heavy could come open with such ease when it took a duo of guards to move a simple wardrobe.

  “Magicks,” I whispered as the only explanation popped into my head. Teryn bolted into the darkness. The sandy tip of his tail disappeared into the inky nothingness. I got to my feet to speak to the guards. “One of you is to return to the throne room to enquire of the grand advisors and the king if they know of this secret passage in the nursery. One of you shall post guard outside the door. Allow no one but the king or his advisors into this room. Am I understood?”

  “Yes, Captain!” One tore off. The other closed the door and placed his back to it. Nodding, I picked up a small lamp from the windowsill, lit the squat candle, and closed the engraved door. Tiny dancing horses appeared on the walls, the shadows moving along as I did.

  Stepping into the darkness, the lantern cast a small circle of light. The air was not musty as one would assume if this passage had been sealed off for ages. So, someone must have come through recently. Looking above me, lantern held high, I saw no stairs leading upward, nor any webbing. Again, another sign of recent use. Taking one step and then another, I saw a winding stairwell leading down. Small paw prints mingled with larger footprints. Soft-soled, not armored, for stealth.

  “Teryn,” I called out and caught myself. “Mahouk Nouradi?” A small bark echoed up the musty flight of steps. “If only these druids would shift into a creature that possessed the ability to speak.”

  Heading down the narrow passageway, I kept a hand on the cool wall while circling downward. The sound of the ocean grew louder as I neared the bottom. The smell of brine and fish met me at the bottom. As did a sandy-red fox. Teryn sat primly on the lowest step, tail tucked around his body, as water rolled in and then out, lapping at the smooth stairway.

  “The tide is low now,” I commented, using the lantern to illuminate the mossy walls of the cavern we had discovered. “You sit while I go see if I can find where this takes us.”

  He nipped my calf. I thought to call him a snitty little shit, but he was a dignitary. Who I had slept with not long ago. Giving in to my desires was complicating things just as I knew it would.

  “Fine, you may come, but if you get washed out to sea, I will not be responsible.”

  He stood on his back legs, front paws on my thigh. Heaving a sigh, I lifted him up, tucked him into my shirt like a wee babe at its mother’s breast, and began sloshing forward. Seawater soaked through my leather boots. The corridor was tall, rounded, hewn from the very rocks that held up Avolire, and coated with fine salts. So the water here rose to engulf the passage with the lunar tides. Whoever had used this hidden path had to have known they had limited time to enter the castle and exit with two children before the waves began to roll in to block them off. Or trap and drown them. Teryn’s fur was damp but warm against my bare chest. His toenails dug into my hip as I carefully made my way along. He smelled of wet dog. Tiny black nose kept high, he worked the air currents, large ears perked forward.

  “Do you smell the children?” I asked, rounding a corner and pausing as I gazed out at a large cavern. He never answered. Probably because the trail had been washed away. The walls were water-worn in places, rough and craggy in others. Large rocky stalactites hung down from the ceiling. Rotting seaweed and the stink of dead fish filled the moist air. The sea lapped at the gravel under my feet. Stepping onto a small dock, I stared out at the Silvura, the twin moons painting the rolling sea milky white. “Fuck,” I moaned and sighed. “Whoever this was knows the castle far better than I, and that in and of itself is distressing.” Teryn licked my jaw and whimpered softly. Automatically, I pat his soft head, holding his small furry form just a little closer. “Let us go back to the king and fill him in on this.”

  “That won’t be necessary,” Aelir announced from behind us, pushing through the tide with Le’ral on one side and my cousin on the other. His robes were soaked up to his knees. His eyes were wild with panic as he joined me on the slippery dock to stare forlornly out at the ocean, ever placid, small whitecaps falling over themselves as they had since the first elves drew breath. The king began to weep. Quietly, his face buried in his hands, the shuddering of his shoulders was the only outward sign of his torture. I stood at his back, as did Rolim, and allowed Fylson to comfort the monarch.