The Prince's Mark

Chapter Eighteen

"She should be."

That did it. Ina pulled her hand away from Tracou's face as if she had been burned. Those words hung between the two of them for some time. It felt good to lash out at someone and have them recoil from him, but it would have been better if it was Pendaer. Then again, Pendaer wasn't the type that would be affected by anything Tracou could say.

"Listen," Ina said at length. "A dove brought a message to Pendaer."

Tracou's tears stopped. Sniffling, he gave Ina his full attention. This had to mean that the dove hadn't been Pendaer's. "A white dove?"

"Yes. The message said that we were heading in the wrong direction and that the prince went north. Did the prince tell you that?"

Face carefully neutral, Tracou glanced out the back of the wagon. Pendaer was lingering a ways away, but not so far away that he couldn't hear them.

"No."

Ina didn't press him. "The Elven Queen isn't happy with Pendaer's performance. It's been more than a month now since Pendaer started searching for the prince. She's threatening to send the Elven military into Winlea to get him back. I guess she's worried the Winleans will hold him hostage or something, I don't know. Pendaer seemed unhappy about it."

"Why would the Winleans hold him hostage?"

"Ugh, something about the border? Pendaer didn't exactly explain it to me."

That was something Tracou could believe; Pendaer wasn't the type to explain something so important to anyone if he didn't absolutely have to. But there was part of this that didn't make much sense.

"How does the Elven Queen know where Mirthal is?"

Ina blinked at Tracou, searching his face for something. The scrutiny made his cheeks heat up.

"What?" he asked.

"His name's Mirthal, huh? And you can call him by his first name?"

"Yes, I can."

"Pendaer won't use his name at all; he always calls him the prince."

"Pendaer is a buffoon."

Ina burst into laughter. All Tracou had done was state a fact, but to Ina it was apparently the funniest joke she had heard in a long time. Then again, that was probably true.

In the distance, he heard Pendaer curse.

Wiping her eyes, Ina took a deep breath to calm down. "Hah, wow. Okay. Anyway, I think the Elven Queen has some way to track her son. Maybe he doesn't know about it."

With a frown, Tracou tried to remember if he had felt any out of place magic around Mirthal. As far as he could recall, he didn't, but elf magic was strange. If Mirthal didn't know about this spell, it wasn't unthinkable that Tracou wouldn't be able to detect it either.

Ina patted Tracou on the shoulder. "I've done my part to explain things. Let's see how the buffoon does." Carefully climbing over Tracou, she left the wagon.

Oddly, Pendaer didn't come to talk to him for a long while. Tracou watched him hesitate. Whenever Pendaer turned to look his way, he would quickly turn back around. It was funny for a little while, but Tracou was still tied up.

"Hey!" he called. "When are you going to untie me?!"

Openly glowering, Pendaer approached him like one might approach a hissing cobra. If Tracou could spit at him and reliably hit him, he would.

"Dezmek," Pendaer said, still several feet away.

"Buffoon."

Closing his eyes, Pendaer started mumbling to himself in Elvish again, opening and closing his hands. Somehow, this did something for him because he looked at Tracou with renewed conviction.

"The prince is in Winlea. I need to bring him home. He won't listen to me, but if I use you he might be willing to return to the Elven Kingdom."

Tracou snorted. "And? What do I care? Mirthal wants to travel and I'm not going to help you ruin that for him."

Hearing Tracou say Mirthal's name as though it was nothing made Pendaer's eye twitch. It was incredibly satisfying to witness.

"What if going to Winlea did him more harm than good? Those Winleans are an aggressive people, even for humans."

A frown slowly consumed Tracou's face. Sometimes the Winleans and the dezmek got into spats about the ocean, but nothing serious had happened in at least a century. Still, it was true that Winleans were hot headed.

Gaining confidence, Pendaer continued. "Winlea often raises a stink about the border between it and the Elven Kingdom. Imagine what might happen if the Elven Prince fell into their grasp. I think the best scenario would be a kidnapping."

Tracou's heart sank. Maybe instead of defending Mirthal by giving Pendaer the wrong destination, he had only put him in danger. Maybe he had done all of this for less than nothing. Hopefully Pendaer was wrong, but what if he wasn't? What if Mirthal was trapped somewhere?

"But if that's true, how would I be helpful?"

"If it's true..." Pendaer crossed his arms over his chest, sighing. "I would give you your wand and we would fight to get him back."

Tracou's eyes narrowed. "Are you saying you won't give me my wand back otherwise?"
"I'll return it to you when we find the prince."

"Show it to me. I want to know you still have it."

Pendaer reached into his boot, pulling Tracou's precious wand out of it. The sight of it made Tracou both feel better and feel worse at the same time. Keeping it in his sleeve would have at least made sense, but keeping it in his boot was insulting.

"That's disgusting! I don't want my wand to smell like elf feet!"

"What?! I smell just fine!"

"There's no way your feet smell fine."

"You're trying my patience, dezmek," Pendaer hissed as he put the wand into his sleeve. "I have your stupid wand, that's good enough, isn't it? And I..." Face twisting, Pendaer hesitated. "I got rid of the chain."

That was a start. Tracou looked over Pendaer coolly.

"Anything else?"
"What else do you want?" Pendaer asked, voice tight.

"Don't tell Ina to hit me anymore!"

Anyone should have seen that coming, even Pendaer, but hearing it made him resume his glowering from earlier. Yet, he relented and nodded.

This didn't exactly make up for his earlier treatment, but it laid the groundwork for what would. If he got his wand back, he could give Pendaer a taste of his own medicine. More likely he would just get Mirthal to strip him of his title, which would be sweet revenge in of itself. Maybe he could even have him sent to a dungeon somewhere to rot.

More than anything, Tracou needed his wand. That was his first priority. If Mirthal was in trouble, then Tracou wanted to help him, too. After all, he had started helping him already and it would be silly to let that go unfinished. Especially if he had allowed him to get into more trouble. Tracou would be going far away from Ergakan again, but he had at least sent a message out. He would just rush home after confirming Mirthal was safe.

"Untie me. I'll go with you."