Hammered: Legacy of Magic, Book 1 by Buroker Lindsay

Author:Buroker, Lindsay
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Lindsay Buroker
Published: 2022-11-09T00:00:00+00:00

16

I was leaning over the desk, trying to figure out how to open the blue box or determine the results, when I sensed the elf female leaving. I was relieved their battle of wills hadn’t led to them having sex, in part because I hadn’t wanted to be trapped in the office if they got busy in the living room, and in part because she’d been a bitch. Even though Sarrlevi was an arrogant prick, he could do better than that.

Sensing him walking toward the office, I leaned back and clasped my hands behind my back, nobly resisting the urge to grab the box and try to shake information out of it. When he stepped into the doorway, he still looked pissed.

“That bitch isn’t really a princess, is she?” I asked.

He blinked. Maybe he hadn’t realized we’d communicated. “She told you that?”

“She thought it into my head—” I pointed at my temple, “—and I somehow understood her.”

“She was a princess. Her family, including the former king and queen, plotted against the dragons and attempted to remove them from power. They successfully assassinated more than one. The dragons weren’t pleased, slew the king and queen, and appointed a new ruling family to lead the elves. Slehvyra, her sisters, and a number of their cousins begged forgiveness and, because they weren’t found to have personally committed any crimes against the dragons, were permitted to live, but some are still secretly plotting against their kind.”

“Are they all as snotty as she is?”

Some of the irritation faded from his face, and his tone grew lighter as he asked, “Do you refer to all elves or all of her kin?”

“I guess my they was unspecific, but both. I’d be delighted to meet a non-snotty elf.” I thought about amending that statement so that it didn’t include him but didn’t.

“The current princess is an academic studying goblin engineering, which is about as unlikely a field for our people as you’d think. Judging by your taste in colleagues, you’d like her.” His gaze shifted toward the box, and he walked toward it.

Nerves fluttered in my belly. Would Sarrlevi tell me the results of whatever he learned?

He waved his hand over the top, and an image appeared in the air. I guessed shaking the box wouldn’t have worked.

A picture of a male dwarf formed, then rose a foot as another picture formed underneath it. A female dwarf.

“That’s my mother,” I blurted.

Her face was solemn, though she was younger than in the Polaroids. It was as if she had, as a teenager, posed for a portrait and her painter had sternly told her not to enjoy the process.

Sarrlevi looked at me but didn’t comment.

The image of my mother slid to the side, and another headshot appeared, another young dwarf female with frizzy red hair, though hers was pulled back in a severe bun, and her snub nose had a haughty tilt. A line formed between the two females and another pointed up toward the male, a dwarf with a

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