Tracker (Outcasts Book 3) Read online

  Arrista just motioned toward the table. “Your meal is getting cold.”

  Sara nodded and moved toward the table. She wasn’t really hungry but it seemed rude to refuse.

  As she passed Arrista, the elf caught her upper arm and Arrista’s expression turned intensely serious. “You must tell no one what I have done. I would be severely punished if Lady Isolaund realizes you can understand us.”

  “I will say nothing. You have my word. But what does she want with us? Why did the male take us in the first place?”

  Arrista shrugged, but secrets lurked within her crystal-blue eyes. “I know only what Lady Isolaund tells me, which isn’t much anymore.”

  “But the male? Who is he?”

  A violent shudder shook Arrista’s narrow shoulders. “Lord Toxyn Jow. He is not nearly as important as he believes he is. The Guiding Council will not be pleased by his actions. They do not want war with your people.”

  Sara started to ask more questions, then changed her mind. Arrista had risked enough already just to give Sara this advantage. “Thank you.”

  She nodded once, then stressed again, “Don’t let her know you can understand our language. I am the only one who could have made this so.”

  “I won’t.” Arrista started to leave, but Sara stopped her. “Why are you helping us?”

  Looking back at her, Arrista’s eyes filled with pain and something darker, maybe shame. “I know what it’s like to be powerless. Those of my designation have no control over anything.” She said nothing more as she hurried from the room.

  “Wait! What about me?” Heather cried in a soft but urgent tone. “I want to be able to understand them too.”

  “You didn’t want to communicate with her,” Sara pointed out, and Heather went back to glaring.

  “What did she tell you?” Heather asked as she wandered back toward the dining table and the food waiting there. “She jabbered away forever.”

  Sara’s mind was still whirring with all the info Arrista had given her. “The female leader’s name is Isolaund. The male who originally took us is Toxyn Jow. The female is every bit as powerful as she looks, but the male has an exaggerated concept of his true worth. However, Arrista called them lady and lord, so I think they both have some authority.”

  “Arrista? Is that the one who just left?” Heather returned to the seat she’d occupied briefly and slid the tray closer to her.

  Sara nodded. She moved to the table as well, but rested her hands on top of one of the chairs rather than pulling it out. “Arrista didn’t know why Toxyn took us, but he didn’t have permission from their Guiding Council. He’s probably in big trouble.”

  “Maybe they’ll order Isolaund to free us once they find out we’re here.” Despite her apparent interest in the food, none of it had made it onto the plate she’d set in front of her.

  “That would be nice.” Sara didn’t want to be pessimistic, but she thought their chances of being freed were pretty damn slim. “Oh, Arrista will get in horrible trouble if anyone realizes she gave me the translation nanites. You can’t mention it, and I can’t react to anything they say in Sarronti.”

  Before Heather could reply, a disruption erupted in the corridor. Deep voices shouted, though their words were too distorted for Sara to understand. Then she heard the distinct thuds and clatter of a violent altercation. Suddenly, the door slid open and a massive, armored Sarronti warrior stomped into the room. He was burly as well as tall, and his hair, which was dark gold like antique coins or heirloom jewelry, had been cut short, accenting his brutal features. Damn he looked mean. His amber gaze was sharp and assessing.

  “Where is she?” he demanded in Sarronti.

  Sara stared back at him as if she hadn’t understood the question.

  He stalked toward her and grabbed her arms, giving her a firm shake. “Where is Lady Isolaund?”

  She quickly lowered her gaze and allowed her fear to show. “Please don’t hurt me. I don’t know what you’re saying.”

  Just as abruptly as he’d grabbed her, he shoved her away. She rubbed her bruised arms, but silently thanked God that was all the enraged warrior had done.

  The door slid open again and Isolaund stood framed in the opening. “How did you get in here?” Her tone snapped with resentment and anger as she glided into the room. “Where are the guards I stationed outside this door?” She motioned toward the door that had just slid closed behind her. “Explain this intrusion immediately.”

  The elves scowled at each other and spoke in their lilting, almost musical language. Thanks to Arrista, Sara understood every word.

  The male elf turned on Isolaund with the same lethal calm he’d used on Sara. “I told you to stop going above or your curiosity would blow up in our faces.”

  His even tone and nearly expressionless features seemed to calm Isolaund. Her shoulders relaxed and she tossed back her hair. Iridescent color rippled through the knee-length strands. Sara had never seen anything so beautiful. Like Arrista’s, Isolaund’s features were sculpted and well proportioned, but there was a hardness to Isolaund’s face that didn’t exist in the younger elf. Arrista’s eyes had been pale blue while Isolaund’s were colorless. They shimmered like faceted crystal or priceless diamonds.

  “My refusal to heed your warnings is what caused you to attack my guards and force your way into my private chambers?”

  So the rooms belong to Isolaund. Sara had figured as much, but it was nice to know for sure.

  “They have my son,” the male sneered the admission between clenched teeth. “You sent your lackey above to snatch a couple of females and—”

  “Toxyn acted alone,” Isolaund snapped, soft pink staining her pale cheeks. “I had nothing to do with this. And last I checked, Toxyn was yours to command, General Alonov.”

  He moved so fast his image blurred and Sara gasped. Suddenly his fist was tangled in Isolaund’s hair and her head was tilted way back. He towered over her, face a mask of rage and barely suppressed violence. “You might browbeat the council and terrorize everyone with your ridiculous cats, but it takes more than insolence to intimidate me. I went off to war with your father when you were still playing with dolls. Show some godsdamned respect!”

  She stumbled back a step as he shoved her away, then her head snapped back to its haughty angle. Those diamond-bright eyes gleamed dangerously for just a moment before she gained control of her expression again. “I apologize for my disrespect, but what I said is true. Toxyn acted alone. I had nothing to do with his decision to take prisoners.”

  “Toxyn isn’t smart enough to think this up on his own.” The general dismissed the suggestion with an impatient wave of his hand. “What really happened up there? Did you send him on a recon mission and he decided he wanted to play with a couple of human females instead?”

  She strolled across the room. Her movements seemed casual, but she put as much distance between herself and the volatile general as possible. “Why are you so certain I had anything to do with this?”

  “Because Toxyn is a fool and we both know it. If he was aboveground causing trouble, he was doing so because you sent him. Now stop mincing words and tell me what happened.”

  She smoothed down the back of her hair, a hint of irritation showing in her tense expression. She stood in front of the fireplace now, shoulders squared, chin slightly raised. “He was supposed to burn down whatever that is they’re building near the river.”

  Sara’s eyes widened, so she quickly turned her head. They hadn’t been Toxyn’s target. As the general said, Toxyn had seen some helpless females and couldn’t resist. What a bastard!

  “The Outcasts captured Farlo during their interaction with Toxyn, so now they’ve got a problem with me.” The general’s voice became a menacing rumble.

  “Farlo, your youngest? I didn’t realize he was old enough to serve?” Isolaund’s voice softened, so Sara looked at them again. The table was at her back, which meant Heather was as well, but the elves were far more interesting rig
ht now.

  “He has only served for two moon cycles. I can’t believe this is happening.” Suddenly the fearsome general was gone and a worried father had taken his place. His broad shoulders sagged and the lines creasing his face seemed to deepen. “If they harm him in any way...”

  “They won’t,” Isolaund insisted, but she kept the breadth of the room between her and the general. “He’s a bargaining tool, nothing more. They want their females back, and they know the only way to make that happen is to offer an exchange.”

  “Or find one of the entrances to our world and start slaughtering everyone they encounter until they find their precious females.” He shook his head, expression hardening again. “You’re too young to remember the Roriton raids, but I’ll never forget.”

  Sara shivered. No wonder these elves were leery of strangers.

  “The Outcasts are not the Roritons,” Isolaund said with sudden conviction. “They’re surprisingly devoted to their females. They will agree to the exchange.”

  “Offer one, see how they react. I would like the opportunity to question the other before she’s returned.”

  Isolaund didn’t look happy about the suggestion. “I doubt they’ll accept, but I’ll make the offer.”

  The general’s gaze swept over Heather, lust and cruelty smoldering in his amber gaze. “I want the red one, but I won’t endanger my son to have her. Offer to trade for the dark one and make them believe it’s the only offer they’ll get.”

  “Of course.” Isolaund was obviously trying to conceal her reaction, but a hint of resentment bled through. Maybe she had a soul after all.

  “We’ll speak again tomorrow.” Without another word General Alonov left.

  How were they triggering the door? There was no palm scanner and they hadn’t used a voice command. Sara had tried everything!

  “Who leads the Outcasts?” Isolaund asked in English as she moved slowly toward the table.

  Sara paused to see if Heather would speak, but as usual she remained in silent-watcher mode.

  “His name is Kage Razel,” Sara told Isolaund. “The others call him Overlord.”

  “And the one with silver hair, what do the others call him?” She didn’t halt her ambling progress until they stood toe to toe.

  “Depends on the day.” A hesitant smile bowed her lips, but Isolaund’s expression didn’t soften. Sara hesitated to reveal too much. Isolaund might have protected them from Toxyn, but she’d made it clear from the start that they were enemies. “He likes to be called Arton the Heretic, but the Rodytes also call him a harbinger.”

  “What are Rodytes?”

  Maybe if she answered some of Isolaund’s questions, the elf would return the favor. There was no harm in providing general information. Was there? “Rodytes are from a planet called Rodymia. Most of the Outcasts are hybrids, a mixture of Rodyte and other nearby races.”

  Isolaund’s face revealed no reaction or emotion. All of these elves had incredible poker faces. “And harbinger? What is this?”

  This information wasn’t quite as general as the other, so Sara tried to downplay the importance. “They claim he can see the future.” She waved dismissively. “I’ve never seen any evidence that he actually can. It’s just a rumor.” Except Arton had known about the elves long before anyone actually saw them. She also knew for a fact he was a strong telepath.

  A strange little smile parted Isolaund’s lips, then she motioned toward the table behind Sara. “Why are you not eating?”

  Sara shrugged. “Don’t have much of an appetite. Being kidnapped will do that to you.”

  Isolaund chuckled. “I’ll make your stay as quick as possible. Have something to eat.”

  The door slid open and Arrista returned before Sara could repeat that she wasn’t hungry. The younger elf moved immediately toward Isolaund. Thankfully, Isolaund moved toward Arrista too, which gave Sara a minute to catch her breath.

  “They know about Weniffa, mistress.” Unshed tears swam in Arrista’s eyes and her panic seemed real. “They’re going to kill her. We must do something quick!”

  “Where is she?” Isolaund demanded sounding nearly as upset as Arrista.

  Who was Weniffa? Did Isolaund have a daughter? If so, who was about to kill a helpless child? Sara took several deep breaths, forcing herself not to react to their obvious fear. You can’t understand them. You know nothing.

  “I moved her to my room, but that won’t fool them for long. We must get her out of the Underground. The council is determined to teach you a lesson in the cruelest possible way.”

  Dear God. Did these elves really murder children to teach their parents a lesson? Her stomach cramped and her lips began to tremble. She pressed them together until they stopped.

  Isolaund fisted her hands, and cried out in exasperation, “Even if I hide her above, she will not stay there. She knows the way back too well.”

  The child must be relatively old if Isolaund was considering hiding her aboveground by herself. It didn’t matter! Even at twelve or thirteen, a child was helpless.

  “Send one of them.” Arrista motioned toward the two humans. “Tell them the cost of their freedom is to care for Weniffa. Tell them you will check on her wellbeing and if you ever find her abused or neglected, they will pay a horrible price.”

  Suddenly Sara detected cunning in Arrista’s expression. What the hell was going on?

  Isolaund was too upset to hear the hint of insincerity in her servant’s voice. Was Arrista trying to help free one of them? Had she arranged this “crisis” for their benefit? Carefully keeping her expression bland, Sara remained silent and let the drama play out.

  “Which should I send?” Isolaund gestured toward the table without taking her gaze off Arrista. “Did either attempt to communicate with you?”

  “The dark one did. She is bolder than the red one, more compassionate too. I would send the dark one. She will be a much better protector.”

  But that left Heather alone down here, with general whatshisname panting after her.

  “You.” Isolaund motioned Sara over. “Arrista will take you to the surface, but it will cost you two things.”

  Sara swallowed hard, already hating herself for what she was about to do. “Please send Heather instead.”

  Isolaund narrowed her gaze, looking irritated and surprised. “You don’t want to be free?”

  “Of course I do, but I saw how that soldier looked at her. Heather needs to leave more than I do.”

  Isolaund scoffed and tossed back her hair. “General Alonov will happily shift his focus to you if your red friend is gone. He craves the novelty of bedding a human. Are you willing to take her place for that as well?”

  Suddenly Heather was right beside Sara, squeezing her arm. “Please, Sara. I can’t stay here. Let me go instead.” Now Heather was on the verge of tears and Sara wanted to scream. Why did everything have to be so complicated?

  “I did not make the offer to the red one,” Isolaund snapped, tearing Heather’s hand away from Sara’s arm. “You will go and go now! Arrista will explain the conditions.”

  Shit. She looked at Heather’s panicked face and felt tears sting her own eyes.

  “Please,” Heather sobbed. “Don’t leave me down here alone. Don’t—”

  “I said go!” Isolaund shoved her toward the door.

  Sara tried one last time. “But, Heather—”

  “I will protect your red friend as I have protected you. Go!”

  Arrista took Sara’s arm and pulled her out the door.

  “I can’t just leave her here. If that bully wants Heather, Isolaund won’t be able to stop him. Toxyn might back down, but Alonov is different. You know I’m right.”

  Arrista made a soft, scoffing sound that closely resembled her mistress’s. “You don’t know Lady Isolaund.”

  They rushed down one corridor and then another. Sara quickly lost track of which direction they turned and had no idea where they were going. As she’d thought, the tunnels went on for
ever and countless rooms were situated off short passageways that branched off from the one in which they ran. The elf stronghold was massive, and its primitive appearance was a disguise concealing the true level of their technology.

  “Who is Weniffa?” Sara asked as Arrista’s pace began to slow. “Is she really in danger?”

  “Yes. One of my friends told me the council intends to kill little Wenny. I was on my way to warn Lady Isolaund when I realized we could help each other.” She dragged Sara down one final corridor and paused before a nondescript door. “Do you like animals?”

  Sara scrunched up her brows. What did that have to do with anything? “I’m a vet tech.”

  Arrista shook her head. “I do not know what that means.”

  “I work at a hospital for animals. Most days I like animals more than people.”

  “Good.” With a hesitant smile, Arrista carefully opened the door, and hurried Sara inside.

  The room was tiny, even smaller than Sara’s apartment, which she frequently referred to as her closet. There was a chair, simple desk, and a bed, held off the ground by a functional wooden frame. As her eyes adjusted to the dimness, she noticed something curled up on the middle of the bed.

  “This is Weniffa,” Arrista explained as she crept toward the bed. “She’s the sweetest karron you could ever—”

  “Karron? Isn’t that...Weniffa is a battle cat?” Holy shit! Isolaund wanted her to rescue one of her battle cats? Sara’s system lit up with the strangest combination of fascination and fear. “Why is the council out to get, what did you call her, Wenny?”

  “We cannot let them find her,” she said firmly. “Let’s get above, and then I’ll explain everything.”

  Sara hadn’t actually agreed to take the cat, but already her animal-lover instincts were kicking in. Who would kill a baby animal just to torture their caregiver? That was as reprehensible as killing a child, well, almost.

  Arrista slipped her arms under the blanket on which Weniffa slept. “This has her mother’s scent on it. It helps calm her when she grows anxious. Karrons are very perceptive. Wenny might not comprehend all the details, but she knows something is very wrong.”