Page 93 of The Broken Elf King

My expression became stony then. Lucien nearly killed me last time. I’d tried to play it off for Kailani’s benefit, but I’d seen it in his eyes—he would have done it had she not been there.

“He’s not the same friend we remember. Life has hardened him.” I didn’t know if it was just what I’d done, sleeping with his love, or something else, but he’d gone dark. All traces of the laughing jokester were gone.

Drae inclined his head. “Then we will have to remind him of who he is.”

With that, my oldest friend in the world pulled out a metal box, rusted at the corners and caked in dirt.

My mouth dropped open at the sight of it. I’d totally forgotten about it. “You dug it up!” I scolded him. It was something all four of us were supposed to do together when we all became kings. I didn’t even remember what I’d put inside. I was eight years old at the time.

Drae shrugged. “We’re all kings now, and none of us talk to each other anymore, so I thought I’d take initiative.”

I was actually excited to open it. I remembered that night vaguely. We’d all been roasting sweet potatoes by the fire at one of our annual retreats, and the memory box had been Lucien’s idea. He said we should bury something to remind us of who we were as happy children because one day we would become angry old kings like our fathers.

Taking this along was a good idea. The box might just bring Lucien back from whatever dark place he’d gone to. If I had put him there, I’d never forgive myself.

I guess it’s time to find out.

The End