"I am sorry," Edeline repeated yet again.

  Myronel let out a long low sigh as he continued to pace back and forth in front of where Edeline and Hamond sat. He knew he shouldn't be too angry as his sister, given the threat they had been facing. But if he understood what they'd told him...really? Attempting an untested spell against the likes of the Witch of Wrath? Foolish did not even start to describe that.

  It was hard to know what he should think. Grateful that they were alive? Upset that she had took a very pointless risk? Regretful he hadn't been there to protect them? That last couldn't have been helped, Myronel had to admit. Someone had to make sure Anthyla had been safe, and a pair of guards showing up to attack them while the bigger battle was happening proved it.

  Myronel had easily dealt with those two himself. Even if he was no thaumaturge, his skill with the sword still held up. That, he supposed, would be one of the few key roles he had - to fight when spells would draw too many eyes to them. Those eyes would be upon them even sooner, once word got around that someone had defeated the Witch of Wrath.

  A burden for another day. Right now, he needed to go help Anthyla search the house. "You two sure you will be safe here?" The small parlor, one of three on the ground floor of the massive manor, was tucked out of the way with a single entrance. It had to be intended for more private and personal meetings, compared to the others.

  "We'll be fine," Hamond answered.

  "Go find Lord Kelshir," Edeline added, reaching over to adjust the cloak covering her.

  Myronel nodded, and exited the room. Looking down the long hallway, it occurred to him that he had tracked dirt and dust across the floors here. It was something that once, long ago and far away, he had been told to never do. Either he wiped off his boots at the door, or a servant came by to clean them for him.

  And if the truth was to be told, he no longer cared.

  He arrived in the main entrance hall to find the others standing around waiting. Nela had left earlier to go tend to Ugotlas's injured leg, which looked much better now. Claris and Anthyla stood off to the side, looking awkwardly at the floor between them. Myronel prepared himself for the worst.

  "Is Edeline feeling better?" Nela asked. Though her tone was casual, he could see the worry on her face.

  "She should be fine," Myronel said, echoing Hamond's words. "Both of them will be, I hope. Now, Lady Kelshir, have you seen any sign of your family?"

  The look on Anthyla's face made him wish he'd chosen a more delicate phrasing. "Two of my brothers were cut down in the other room, along with a hex or so of guards. I do not know where the others are. But that woman did say my father's still alive, right?"

  "We'll know for certain once we've searched." Myronel wasn't about to trust the Witch of Wrath's word, not after everything that had happened. "If he did live, do you know where he might have hidden?"

  "He'd always lock himself away in his bedchambers whenever he was in a foul mood. Perhaps that is where he went."

  "Even if a locked door wouldn't stop her, it's worth going to look at," Nela said, "Also, if he was going to hide anywhere, it'd be some place with a chamberpot or such there."

  It took every bit of control Myronel had not to burst out laughing at the stunned stares Anthyla and Claris had. He understood what she meant, since having to relieve yourself in that dangerous a situation would risk exposing you. Maybe it was from his battlefield experience, something that most priestesses and noblewomen would not have.

  "What? I'm being...oh, never mind." Nela looked up at the ceiling. "His bedroom's on the top floor, right?"

  "The second," Anthyla answered, "The top floor is mostly the servants' rooms."

  That was very different from the arrangement of his father's home. Myronel supposed there was a reason for it. It didn't even to be anything malicious, just simple personal preference like being the room that Lord Kelshir felt most comfortable sleeping in at night.

  They'd get their measure of the man soon enough. "It's as good a place to start as any. Can you lead us there?"

  "Right, of course," Antyhla said, following Nela's gaze to the upper levels of the house.

  "I shall wait here," Ugotlas declared, "Your stairs are built far too narrow to accommodate me, so I have little choice but to guard against further intrusions."

  Could've just admitted having no interest in what had become of Lord Kelshir, Myronel thought. Although, he couldn't argue that this place hadn't been built with a sphinx in mind. Most buildings here in Hyarch would not be. It had to be different in Remuat, where the Sekhmati were more common.

  Giving Ugotlas a nod, he turned and followed Anthyla around the corner to where the stairs were. They were much closer to the entrance than in his old home, another difference Myronel couldn't help but notice. Maybe he shouldn't keep falling back on making those comparisons. Even while trying to embrace a new life as an Elefae, there were parts of him that weren't easy to let go of.

  "Here it is." Anthyla gestured at a massive pair of double doors, with images of twisting vines and blooming flowers carved into the aged wood. If Myronel were to guess, these doors were older than most of this entire house.

  "Is that the...shit, you're kidding." Nela ran up and began running her hands over the carving.

  "What is it?" Claris asked.

  "You see this arch?" Nela traced a finger, following the vines across the door's surface. "This is an old elf symbol, the Fae Gate. It's part of the tale of the Elefae Tor, marking the entrance to...I don't remember it exactly, but it's the home of the Fae, or something like that. I've seen engravings of it before. I think all the elders in Hallowscroft had one somewhere."

  The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

  "Do you know when these doors were put in?" Myronel asked, thinking rapidly. The elves had been forced out of Kelshir some years ago. Anthyla would've been a child, but it was possible she remembered if the doors had been replaced around that time.

  Unfortunately, Anthyla was already shaking her head. "I cannot say. Another thing I wish I had paid more attention to. My apologies."

  That didn't confirm it, but for Myronel it made too much sense to be anything else. Stealing these doors was minor compared to the other things Lord Kelshir had to answer for, but he knew at a glance that Nela was fuming. He was starting to worry he'd have to hold Nela back if they found Lord Kelshir in here.

  Reaching forward, Myronel tried the door with one hand. It was, unsurprisingly, locked. So he'd have to find a way to break down the...wait, no, he couldn't do that. The door was solid enough that it would take quite a bit of force to get through, and that would damage the carvings. While Myronel hardly knew Elefae traditions, keeping these doors intact and preserved had to be among them.

  This would've been so much easier before undergoing the First Ascension.

  "Do you have a key?" Claris asked Anthyla.

  "No. Only father and mother kept keys to this door." Oddly, Myronel couldn't recall Anthyla having mentioned her mother before.

  "It has to be one of those two then," Claris said with a frown, "But does that mean we'll have to wait until they come out?"

  Instead of answering, Anthyla marched up to in front of the doors. "Father!" she called out, with a voice stronger than Myronel would've expected. "It's safe now!" A long silence followed. Anthyla shook her head, and moved back away from the door. Myronel was considering the possibility of seeking out a locksmith when a sharp metallic sound echoed from the doors. Then one swung open, hinges squealing.

  "Hurry, it's not safe!" The figure of a man, half hidden behind the Elefae door, peeked through at them. "It will not be long before-" The man's eyes widened as he spotted Myronel, and started to pull the door closed again.

  Acting quickly, Myronel stepped forward, catching the edge of the door with one hand. Pushing his shoulder against it, he forced the door back open. The man tumbled backward onto the floor with a strained grunt.

  "Lord Kelshir, I presume," Myronel said, straightening as he moved aside to let Anthyla pass. Nothing about the man particularly stood out. If it weren't for the fine silk tunic, Myronel would just see him as any other heavily-built old man. Thin graying hair outlined an aged pale face, one now staring up at them with a visible mix of fear and fury.

  "Indeed it is," Anthyla said, confirming Myronel's assumption. "Greetings, father."

  "How dare you come in here!" Myronel could not tell if those blustering words were aimed at him or Anthyla.

  "Very easily," Nela commented coldly, entering the room as well. Claris followed, slipping around so that the other of the two doors was behind her.

  "Cursed elves," Lord Kelshir growled, "The Witch of Wrath's attack was part of your plan, wasn't it? You are all traitors!"

  "The Witch of Wrath is gone, father," Anthyla told Lord Kelshir, "But this city cannot afford you to keep making enemies like this. It is already almost broken, all because you sought the destruction of the Elefae."

  "Do not blame me for acting to protect Hyarch," Lord Kelshir shot back, rising to his feet. "With the threat of the Spellking-"

  "If we keep turning our swords on our own people, the Spellking won't need armies to take all of Hyarch." Anthyla's face began to redden. "If he is such a dire threat, then we will need every able hand working to defeat him, Elefae or not! This cannot continue!"

  "You still fail to understand. The Spellking believed in the power of magic. The elves believe in the power of magic. Do you still not see how they are the same? If only...if only that boy hadn't gotten himself foolishly slain, maybe you would've learned this lesson eventually."

  "What boy?" Anthyla asked, sounding as confused as Myronel felt.

  "That Hallowscroft boy. The one you were to marry, remember?" Lord Kelshir turned and looked towards the window. "Lord Hallowscroft is a good and loyal man. He understood the sacrifices needed to protect this kingdom. Living there with him and his son, you would have come to see the elves for what they really are. You would have learned the form real leadership takes."

  Myronel exchanged a glance of disbelief with Nela. What in Aether's blood could he even say to that? His father had encouraged him to include the Elefae in their mustering of men. He wouldn't have met Nela otherwise. If Lord Kelshir had expected time in Hallowscroft to change Anthyla's mindset regarding the Elefae, he couldn't have been more wrong. That was not even starting on him, thought dead by so many, now standing in the same room.

  "Is that all that marriage ever was then?" Anthyla asked quietly, "A means to teach me a lesson? Or just trying to be rid of me?"

  "What other value would you have?" Lord Kelshir spun, a scowl on his face. "You are not my heir, and for most of your life you gave no thought to the running of Kelshir. And when you finally did, you wasted my coin on helping the treacherous Elefae. Consider yourself lucky I haven't yet ordered your death."

  If Lord Kelshir was now making threats, it was time to intervene. Myronel drew his sword and stepped forward. "She's not the one who has to worry about dying," he warned.

  "Now you see what the elves are like," Lord Kelshir told his daughter, a mirthless smile appearing on his face. "Do you count them as allies? Or do you still not understand?"

  "The only one here who doesn't understand is you, you arse." Nela pushed past all of them to stand face to face with Lord Kelshir. "The knights are dead. Half the guards are dead. You have no allies left!"

  Lord Kelshir looked like he had been struck. "What?"

  "You talk all this shit about protecting Hyarch." Even though Nela was easily the shortest person in the room, it felt like she was towering over Anthyla's father. "You better start worrying about protecting yourself. I'm not the first elf you've made an enemy of. If you keep being stupid though, I will be the last."

  "You...you've made your point." Lord Kelshir looked even paler than when they'd first entered. "What do you want? As Lord, I can offer any amount of coin needed. I'm sure we can come to an agreement."

  "That would have worked years ago," Anthyla answered, "But the damage you have done is too great now. Any solution must start with you abdicating your position."

  "This has to be a joke! That's impossible!" the man shouted, gesturing wildly. "You have no idea of what I've had to do to make this kingdom stand proud! The merchant deals! The forges! They are our might! Our strength! Without me, Hyarch will fall! And you all will be to blame!"

  Myronel turned to meet Anthyla's gaze as Lord Kelshir continued to rant. It was apparent that nothing they said was going to accomplish anything. He would never let go while he lived, leaving them only one way forward.

  Anthyla's shoulders slumped as she nodded. "I leave him to you then. Goodbye, father." She spun in place, and then moved towards the door.

  "Where are you going?" Lord Kelshir demanded.

  "To clean up your mess," Anthyla answered without sparing a look. Claris followed the noblewoman out of the room, grabbing the door handle with one hand on the way out. The door, the other side equally adorned with the symbols of the Elefae, was pulled shut.

  "You can't...you can't." Whatever bravery and defiance the man had held vanished. He stumbled backwards as Myronel advanced, finally ending up with his back against the wall to the right of the window.

  "Just like so many other things you've said, you're wrong. We can, and I will," Myronel said, meeting the man's fearful gaze. "However...there is one matter you were right about. Myron Hallowscroft is indeed dead. I, however, am very much still alive."

  "Wait, do you mean-"

  Myronel thrust his sword forward, then pulled it free.