From within a nearby bush, a pair of deep blue eyes watched the strange girl with a mixture of curiosity and caution.
The leaves parted. A young elf boy stepped out — pure white hair, pointed ears, a face of almost startling beauty — and looked down at her with innocent eyes that carried, underneath, a sharp scrutinising edge.
"Who are you," he said, "lying so pitifully on territory that doesn't belong to humans?"
Chasey could only stare at him.
"There's something special about you," the boy said, tilting his head. "You're different from the greedy humans I've met before." He frowned. "That's strange. I can usually hear the inner voices of humans. With you I hear absolutely nothing at all."
"You can read minds?" she managed.
"Of course," he said calmly. "It's an innate ability of my kind."
Back at the camp, the atmosphere had grown unbearably tense and grim. The scouting party had still not returned to report. Damian sat beside the campfire with his eyes fixed on the map spread over his knees, deep in thought, though his mind was not on the map at all; it was on the whereabouts of a young lady nobody had seen for hours.
The prince stood up abruptly. He began to pace the campsite, visibly impatient, checking on everything and satisfied by none of it.
"Where is she?" he demanded of his subordinates. "How long has she been out of sight?"
Nobody had a good answer.
He announced that he would go into the forest personally and search for her. There were immediate objections — his own safety, the unmapped ground, the hour — and he ignored all of them.
"Damian. The rest of you." He was already fastening his sword. "Not one word to anyone in this army about where I have gone, or who I have gone after."
"Where are we?" Chasey asked. She was terrified now that the first shock had worn off, and her voice showed it. "Why did you bring me here?"
The elf boy looked straight into her eyes.
"The goal of humans like you, coming here," he said, "is to slaughter my people."
She was stunned. It was a terrible accusation to hear from a child she had met minutes ago, delivered as flatly as a fact about the weather.
"Wait," she said, keeping herself as calm as she could. "Are you — do you belong to the race that's been kidnapping people from the local villages? Is that what this is about?"
The boy reacted fiercely, drawing himself up to his full and unimpressive height. "My people have always lived peacefully! We would never commit cruel acts like that against humans. Never!"
And there it was, Chasey thought. An enormous misunderstanding, standing between two sides, with weapons on one of them.
"Listen to me," she said. "The prince would never harm innocent people. He wouldn't."
"I can sense killing intent," the boy said, unconvinced. "It's coming off all those weapons your army is carrying, so close to my territory. I can feel it from here."
"The army came because they heard that another tribe was harming the local people," she explained, keeping her voice even and slow. "They came to put a stop to that. That's all. If the elves truly aren't attacking anyone, then the prince will certainly never lay a hand on you. I promise."
The boy looked deeply into her eyes for a long moment, and something in him settled.
"You're an incredibly honest person," he said, sounding faintly astonished by it. "You seem completely incapable of lying." He nodded to himself. "It isn't only my mind reading. I can sense the sincerity in your emotions. And there's your scent."
Chasey blinked. "My — scent?"
"Humans who lie give off a very distinctive smell," the boy explained, matter-of-fact.
She wondered whether that was some kind of animal instinct, and decided this was probably not the moment to ask.
The air in the forest changed. It happened all at once, the way a room changes when someone hostile enters it, and the boy's head snapped round.
"Hide," he said urgently. "Now. Find somewhere to hide, right now — this is about to become extremely dangerous."
They came through the trees before she could move: a group of fierce-looking half beasts, broad and heavy, teeth showing.
"Humans," one of them said, lifting his muzzle. "I've got the scent. Humans, here."
Despite his small size, the elf boy planted himself in front of her and stood his ground. "This territory is not yours to trespass on so freely."
The half beasts laughed at him with open contempt. "Listen to it. A weak little half-breed, giving orders. You've no authority over anyone, mongrel."
Then their eyes found Chasey, and they let out a triumphant roar at the sight of their human target.
She stood stunned. It was the first time in her life — in either of her lives — that she had come face to face with a race that was not human, and the fact of them, the size and the smell and the noise of them, took a moment she did not have.
"We have to run," she said, grabbing the boy's hand. "Come on — as fast as you can—"
The half beasts attacked, and the clearing dissolved into chaos.
At that exact moment a sword came flying through the trees and cut clean through the ferocity of the charge.
"You," said the crown prince, stepping into the clearing, "have caused another massive mess."
Chasey froze where she stood.
Raven walked past her toward the half beasts, and the killing intent that came off him was so overwhelming that the very leaves seemed to hold still. A sharp glint flashed in his eyes: the look of a man entirely prepared to punish anyone who dared threaten what belonged to him.
With a few decisive strikes of his sword he cut down the whole group.
"Your Highness," Chasey said weakly, awestruck by the sheer power of it.
He turned on her. "Why are you here?" he demanded coldly. Then his gaze moved to the white-haired child clinging to her sleeve. "And what exactly is that creature with you?"
He suspected it immediately — that this elf boy was the one who had lured her, or led her, into a place as dangerous as this.
"No, it wasn't like that," Chasey said hurriedly, putting herself between them. "I was caught in a tangle of vines. He's the one who saved my life."
The boy tugged at her sleeve and whispered, quite audibly, "I strongly dislike this man. His heart is far too loud. And turbulent."
Chasey laughed awkwardly. "He's a good person. Really. He is."
Their friendly little exchange made the atmosphere among the three of them turn rather awkward, and the prince watched it with visible displeasure.
"I don't like this," he said bluntly. "Any of it. Not one bit."
Then, since standing about in a clearing full of bodies served nobody: "We're going back. Immediately. We regroup with the soldiers."
Chasey took one step and cried out in pain.
Both of them turned. The prince was at her side before the sound had finished.
"Where," he said. "Tell me exactly where you're hurt."