"That isn't fair," Ella said.
"Well, let me tell you, being an elementalist isn't like that. Blessings, girl, I don't know why I'm bothering with you."
"Perhaps because she's the only one preventing them from locking you up for the duration of the war," Bartolo said. He'd taken his zenblade out of its scabbard and was making a show of looking down its length, examining it for marks.
Shani had arrived the previous week; the scouts had found her in Altura's south, scratched and starving, her dark skin instantly giving her away as a Petryan.
Her arrival had caused consternation among the commanders. With the Wondhip Pass blocked, the Petryans weren't supposed to be able to cross over into Altura. Yet Shani had surprised them, for she was happy to show them the precarious mountain path she'd taken, and yet another way between the two lands was made impassable.
High Lord Rorelan didn't trust the elementalist, and had wanted to keep her under guard for the duration of the war, but Miro had wanted to give her a chance, and had found surprising support from his sister.
Ella had to be honest with herself — she had never met an elementalist, and was eager to discover more about their lore. Rorelan didn't seem to agree, but Ella knew that, with essence running desperately low, it would take more than conventional warfare to defeat the Black Army. They would need to be creative rather than rely on force alone. She had so many ideas, but convincing High Enchanter Merlon to allow her to test them was proving to be more difficult than the lore itself.
At least Ella could learn something about Raj Petrya's lore, and she had been surprised to discover that her quest for knowledge had led to the growth of a real friendship.
"Bartolo," Ella said. "Shani has joined our cause. She's unhappy with the direction her house is taking, and —"
"Listen to you," Shani snorted. "'Unhappy with the direction my house is taking,'" she mimicked. "You mean my brother and my nephew were murdered in front of my eyes — tortured to death. The gilden I've saved over the last ten years was confiscated for 'war funds'. Oh, and my High Lord's a sadistic warmonger. Yes, Ella, I'm 'unhappy.'"
Bartolo looked away, and Ella placed her hand on Shani's arm, but the Petryan shrugged it off. "I don't need your pity," Shani said. "I just want to help my people. And kill my enemies. It pays to be strong."
Ella frowned when she thought about Shani's comments. Was she really weak? The Petryan was certainly as opposite to her as two women could be. Where Ella was slight, Shani was statuesque, her red robe belted with a white rope and filled out with the curves of her breasts and hips. Ella's eyes were a startling green, her skin pale, and her hair a light gold, the colour of sunshine. In contrast, Shani's skin was the hue of amber, her hair wild and dark and her eyes smoky and intense. The Petryan lined her eyes with some kind of coal-coloured paste, giving her an undeniably exotic appearance. Ella thought Shani was beautiful, but she would never say that to her friend's face.
"I'll try to save you some to kill," Bartolo said. "Enemies, that is."
"The way you handle that sword, perhaps you'd better leave it to me," Shani said. "You're far too pretty to be waving something so sharp around, who knows what could happen?"
Bartolo opened his mouth and then closed it again. Shani usually got the best of their exchanges.
Miro may have been opposed to locking Shani away, but that didn't mean he was going to take a risk with his sister. He'd admonished Ella to keep an eye on the elementalist, and then assigned Bartolo to keep an eye on them both. High Lord Rorelan was content with this arrangement; Bartolo was a bladesinger, one of their best, and even an elementalist was no match for a bladesinger, so they said. Ella wondered how true that was.
Shani turned to Ella again. "Let's start again, shall we?"
Ella nodded.
"There are two cuffs, one for each wrist. They aren't the same, and it's very important that you put the correct cuff on the correct wrist."
"Or?" Bartolo asked.
"Or you're dead."
"And you think I'm the one waving something dangerous around?"
Ella glared at Bartolo. "Go on, Shani."
"My robe has runes that protect me from the elements, but only from the lightest touch. A direct fireball will kill me just as easily as it will kill anyone else. Are you sure your dress is as protective as you say it is? I can lend you my robe."
Ella smiled. "It is. It's what we do best."
"Ignore what she says," Bartolo said. "Lend Ella your robe, Shani. Don't mind me. I'll just sit here and watch."