Elven Blood (Imp Book 3) (9 page)

Two elves walked forward and made a downward motion, as if they were unzipping the air. There was a crackle of power and the gate shimmered before us. Diablo rolled his eyes and hopped backward like a rabbit.

“Come on boy, these guys have some really nice mares you want to meet,” I encouraged him as four of our party walked through the gate.

I managed to get him right up to it, but he refused to go further. He danced back and forth, skipping sideways as I urged him forward. The elves snickered patiently behind me. This went on for what seemed like hours before I finally nudged Diablo up, nose to the gate. He sniffed at it tentatively, almost ready. As I encouraged him to go through, I heard a laugh behind me, then Diablo rocketed through the gate and took off through the woods. One of those asshole elves had jabbed him with a sword.

My horse raced out of the tree line, practically mowing down the surprised elves that had preceded us through the gate, and shot across the meadow. Trying to slow him, I braced on his neck with one hand and pulled back on the other rein. In theory, Diablo would circle, and I would spiral him in tighter and tighter until he was forced to slow down. That was the idea anyway. In reality, I had his nose crammed solidly against my knee, his head bent nearly backward as I tried to turn and slow him. It didn’t work. He charged ahead. This was rather alarming because it meant he was running blind, absolutely unable to see where the fuck he was going. I finally gave him his head, figuring it was better to let him run it out then plow into the city gate, or throw me by stumbling over an unseen hole. I rethought my logic as he tore through the open city gates and down a well–populated street, scattering screaming shoppers and merchants.

He did finally stop. Slamming on the breaks right in front of a troop of guards, and launching me over his head to skid across the flagstone pavement. An entrance fitting for the mighty Iblis. I lay on the pavement and looked up at their astonished faces, while Diablo nudged me apologetically. Bastard.

My breathless escorts eventually managed to catch up with me while I was flat on the ground with a troop of guards pointing arrows at my chest. Luckily it didn’t take the scouts too long to arrive behind me. Elves were fast. Very fast. I really had no idea why they bothered with horses.

“This is the Iblis. To see his Lordship,” one gasped to the guards. The guards looked back and forth between us in shock.

“
This
is the Iblis?”

“Yeah, that’s me,” I informed him, standing and dusting my jeans off as they lowered their arrows. “Wanna see my sword?” I figured it was kind of like an ID card. I always carried the Sword of the Iblis—the artifact that symbolized the title I held—but in the more portable form of a barrette.

“No, there’s no need to display your sword,” the guard assured me. He motioned me to follow, parting the crowd before us. Diablo was subdued behind me. I think he knew he’d behaved badly. I should punish him, but it really wasn’t his fault. He’d never experienced any of this before, and he
was
a horse, after all. This had to be far scarier than a plastic bag.

Diablo was more than happy to abandon me once we got to the stables and he saw all the other horses. I left him in a groom’s capable hands and followed my huge entourage into what, for want of a better term, was the palace. I’d been in elf palaces before, invited for various social events with my demon peers, or summoned to hear requests for services. They were all organic, merging in with the natural surroundings and complimenting the beauty of the woods and meadows around them. The other buildings in their cities were the same. Still, the palaces had a kind of ostentation to them, a false modesty. They seemed to bow in deference to the nature they mimicked, but with a deeper look, they had a faint superiority. As if the elves felt they engineered a better nature than the very goddess they worshipped.

This palace was the same: lofty spires resembled the oaks, granite floors as moss–covered stones, windows that shot beams of light down through the cathedral ceilings like sunshine through a forest canopy—beauty with an unflinching eye to detail and cold perfection.

I expected I’d be led straight to his lordship, but instead my huge group of guards and scouts herded me up a set of winding stairs to a suite of rooms. Halfway up, another elf emerged from an adjacent hallway and joined our procession. He was wearing the same uniform as the other guards, but with chains of gold leaves draped across the front. I assumed the jewelry indicated a higher status than the others.

“Please feel free to relax and freshen up,” the one with the bling told me. “You will be our guest tonight at a banquet and festival to celebrate the birth of the snow king.”

Snow king? It didn’t snow in Hel. And if they meant Jesus, they were about a month too late for that one.

“As I mentioned to your messenger, I have a very full schedule. Would it be possible to see his Lordliness right now, so I can begin my return journey?”

The elf smiled sympathetically. “I’m afraid not. This festival is a much–anticipated event in our kingdom. We were given the impression you would be here much later in the week, so we’re a bit thrown by your arrival. We would be honored by your presence at tonight’s festivities though. You needn’t feel out of place; other demons will be in attendance.”

I’d hoped to avoid other demons. Once they knew of my presence, they’d gleefully alert Haagenti. He may not risk coming onto elf land to get me, but he’d be laying in wait the moment I stepped a foot across the borders. And there was always the possibility he’d bribe an elf to turn me over.

“Will his Lordship be able to see me after the party?” I asked hopefully. Maybe I could meet the guy and bolt for the border before the other demons ratted me out.

The elf shook his head. “He’ll see you first thing in the morning. You’ll want to be rested and refreshed when you meet him.”

He turned and left, along with the dozen other guards and scouts that had been tagging along after me. I stood in my lavish gold and silk draped suite and thought. How long was this whole thing going to take, and how in the hell was I going to make it home in once piece?

7

I
stared at my reflection in the ornate mirror, and at the jeans and t–shirt in a heap on the floor behind me. My brown hair was in a simple braid; the dress was one of several I’d found in the closet. I had no idea whose they were. Hopefully they were left specifically for my use; otherwise I’d probably be accosted by an angry elf for clothing theft. The dress was one of those complicated wrap designs; it could have fit a variety of figures. It had taken me an hour to figure out how to get it on, and I wasn’t sure I had it right. I hoped so.

Normally I went to these parties in a typical demon form. Scales, feathers, beaks, fangs, wings, claws. That had been my first thought. My second to just go as Samantha Martin, in the jeans and t–shirt I’d traveled in. Then I’d had an idea. It was a long shot, but if I could masquerade as a slave human, and avoid the demons, maybe I could remain undetected. I didn’t leak energy. I’d been living with the humans for over forty years. If I kept my distance, the demons shouldn’t suspect anything. The big challenge would be fooling any humans who were here, and ensuring the elves didn’t blow my cover.

Of course, if this was a trap, and Taullian was intending on turning me over to his demon guests, then my appearance would be moot. But if they were just some invited guests, I might be able to squeak by this evening without detection.

There was a knock on my door, and the elf guard that entered stopped abruptly, his eyes wide at my appearance. He wasn’t as ornately accessorized as the earlier one, but clearly not far below him in rank. A gilt oak leaf decorated his forearm, and his berry shaped buttons were equally shiny.

“Iblis,” he stammered. “I am here to escort you and announce you at the banquet.”

“Yeah, about that,” I grinned. “I don’t want you to announce me, or usher me in as the Iblis. Can I just blend in as one of your humans instead? I’m sure you understand that in my particular situation, I really do not want other demons to know I’m here. Even if they are friendly.”

Comprehension dawned in his eyes. He looked me over carefully. “Not a human servant, but an apprentice, or a mage maybe? Not one of ours, though. You could be visiting from another kingdom, sent on business and attending the festival as a guest.”

“Are there sorcerers here? Other mages? I’d be up shit creek if any of them approached me to talk shop.” I didn’t know much about their magic, beyond what it took to summon a demon.

“An apprentice then. One newly brought over, so you would be somewhat ignorant of elf customs and our sorcery teachings.”

“But would an apprentice be out and about on her own after being newly kidnapped?” I asked. Adult humans were snared through the elf traps and usually spent a lot of their first decade trying to escape. They weren’t allowed much freedom early on.

The elf looked affronted. “Not all of our humans are unwilling. We do have some, those who are strong in witchcraft and other magic, who jump at the chance to come here and learn from us. They find us far more accepting of their talents than their human brethren.”

“Ok, so I’m a human witch, newly arrived, who is still learning the basics of sorcery and elf society. Shouldn’t I be studying or something? Why would my master send me to another kingdom so soon?”

“Gaial, up north, sometimes sends people down to swap scrolls and magical items. It wouldn’t be unusual for them to send a new apprentice to experience southern culture.”

I nodded. “Is there anything I’d need to know?”

“Not that I could tell you in the next two minutes, no. This dress is in our style, but you could have easily borrowed it for the festival. Of course, you have it on backwards.”

I looked in the mirror. The light green silk draped in folds over my shoulders and my breasts, to cross and wrap around the waist before opening up into a full skirt that barely came to my knees.

“You’re going to have to help me with it then, because I have no idea,” I told him, removing the long strip of fabric to stand naked before him.

Elves have no problems with nudity, so the guy didn’t bat an eyelid. He walked over and began to wrap the fabric around me, casually brushing against my breasts and rear as he worked.

He stood back to look at me with a critical eye. “If I may say so, Iblis, your form is nicely done. I honestly would take you for a human if I didn’t know differently.”

I’d heard that compliment before, but it was particularly gratifying coming from an elf. Their standards were high and they didn’t express approval lightly, especially toward demons. I looked once again at my appearance in the mirror. Yikes. If I’d been at a party with Wyatt dressed like this, I would have been arrested. The silk wrapped around my neck, then over my shoulders to run along the outer edges of my breasts, looping under them to cross and wind around to my back. My boobage was totally exposed, pushed up and together by the strips of fabric. Somehow, the rest of it wound around my hips to hang in the front and back like a sort of loincloth drape, leaving my legs uncovered. I would be flashing my crotch and ass with every step. I’d seen elves, male and female, in lesser states of dress, so I was confident that the guard knew what he was doing and wasn’t playing a prank on me. If the elves didn’t care about seeing all my naughty bits, then I didn’t care either.

“Let’s go,” I told the guard and followed him out of the suite and down the stairs.

The banquet hall was cavernous. A marble fountain complete with stone swans spraying a fan of water towards the heavens stood in the middle of the room. A carved marble tree emerged from the center of the fountain showering the swans with a gentle cascade of water from stone branches. At the far end of the hall was a fire pit that could easily fit a grove, and a series of long tables filled with food. Fresh fruit of all shapes and colors, loaves of hearty bread, and a cornucopia of vegetables loaded down one table. Roasted meats with dishes of savory sauces and gravies were spread across another. There was more food here than the attendees could possibly eat and I rolled my eyes at the overabundance. Elves were always excessive when it came to food. High metabolism had its benefits.

Most elven events I’d attended featured flowers: tons of colorful bouquets and greenery artfully woven around tables, chairs, ceiling and walls. There were none here, just some stick–looking grapevine things, and rocks. I really wanted to check out the composition of the rocks, but it wouldn’t do to have my energy out and about right now.

“The Iblis would be at the head table,” the guard indicated in a hushed voice. “An apprentice would eat from the buffet, over there.”

That actually worked to my advantage. If I had to sit next to other humans, or elves, and make polite dinner conversation, I’d be discovered in less time than it took an elf to drain a goblet.

“Good luck,” the guard told me before leaving my side. A human apprentice would hardly be entering the banquet with an elven guard.

I stepped into the hall and it hit me immediately. Cold. Temperatures in Hel ranged from hot to hotter. The elves did some temperature control of their areas to provide greater variation in support of their beloved foliage, but this was far outside the range I’d ever experienced. It was below freezing in the place. My skin rose in goosebumps and my nipples became like rocks. I was amused to see the humans shivering around the fire, some cupping hands around a steaming beverage. Elves and demons would be reasonably at ease, but humans had a narrow window of comfort when it came to atmospheric parameters. They’d be cold, especially in these ridiculous scraps of clothing the elves considered fashionable. I had an urge to grab the tablecloths and pass them around.

“Here. This helps.” Something warm and hard nudged my arm. I looked down and saw a hot steaming mug.

I followed the mug to an arm and upward to a smiling, male, human face. Shit. Not two seconds over the threshold and one was accosting me. This game would be over real quick.