DIABOLOUS SWAMP SERIES

Princess Isolde had heard the humans bartering, and was saddened when they began to leave earlier than usual. When she reached for the window, her cape fell off her shoulders but was secured by a neck clasp. Queen Zayden's sigil, a golden eagle in flight, with tiny black diamond eyes held the cape. Blood slowly trickled down her forearm as she scrapped her hands and arms on the sharp rock. The princess didn't care, it was her only connection to the outside world, and she took it. Cuts and bruises will heal, she thought. But not my heart. The princess watched with interest, because there were things here she needed to know. There are so many humans, she thought, I had no idea. In the courtyard, the raised sidewalk kept the human feet dry and clean. But when she stared past the soft leather, knee-high boots and over the colorful sea of satin slippers, Princess Isolde could see elves being dragged through the mud. Their hopelessness and fear grabbed the pit of her empty stomach and twisted. Choking down a sob, she hardened herself against the tears, and watched. A pale gray elf stumbled and fell. For a brief moment, he lay staring at her, his skin so pale, she knew not which kingdom he called home. When he smiled, she was sure he recognized her, and even his dry lifeless eyes brightened momentarily. Dragged from view, the elf was lost in a sea of mud. Isolde glared at the spot, trying to remember where she had seen those beautiful, rich, amber eyes. Shaking her head, Isolde closed her eyes a moment before opening them to the window again. I will remember, she assured herself. You must! A deep green elf, whose skin had just started to pale, fell face first in the mud. He was so close, the princess wanted to reach out and touch him, reassure him he would be rescued. How could I reassure anyone, when I too am stuck here in the dungeon, she thought. Placing her right palm on the dirty glass, she saw the elf reach under the raised sidewalk, toward her. Even stretching his long arms and fingers, he couldn't reach the pane. Yet, she still felt his sense of kindness, and gasp in pain when she sensed his broken heart. The gentle elf wore a wide leather collar, and the human who owned him roughly tugged his lead chain, jerking him forward. In a moment, he was gone. Taking a deep breath, tears rolled freely down Isolde's face, streaking her dirty emerald skin. Not wanting to see more, Isolde held tightly to the sill and forced herself to watch. Enslaved elves from all three kingdoms, passed her window, their beautiful skin colors fading because they weren't eating the appropriate herbs. Herbs grown only on this island, kept the forest elves emerald skin dark and luxurious, the mountain elves a rich silver, and desert elves with skin deep golden-brown. Without the herbs, elfin skin dried into a wrinkled dull pewter, that would fade to dust and blow away. Some of the elves Princess Isolde witnessed, had already turned gray, and she hoped it was not too late to save them. They won't make me a slave, she grumbled to herself. Never. Never. Princess Isolde wasn't sure how, but she was determined to escape. Biting hard on her bottom lip, she tasted blood, but she kept watching. Days ago, her stomach stopped grumbling for food, but she was extremely thirsty, and cold, always, always cold. What little bit of water she got from the ice melting off the wall helped some, but nobody had brought her food or clean water for days. What will I drink when the ice us gone, she thought? Slowly shaking her head, Isolde wondered, what magic do these ugly humans have to control us? Her answer came quickly, for when the sun shone directly into the courtyard, and shadows disappeared, a pale green elf fell into a puddle, and the Princess saw a coppery flash. Copper, her mind screamed. The humans are using copper. The elf's neck was tugged, his head jerked, and he was stumbling forward, disappearing into the fray. Princess Isolde released her hold on the sill and stood facing the wall fuming. She paced again. "These horrible humans, must have been driven from their homeland forever." Balling her fists, she pounded her thighs. Never, never, she repeated over and over. Leaning against the rough sidewall, Isolde whispered the realization. "Mt. Erol. The dead volcano." That's why the humans invaded here, for the copper. Pulling the cape back onto her shoulders, she crossed her arms and thought. "How did humans know there was copper on Turtar Eilean?" Isolde said aloud while she paced. Who told them? she thought. rubbing her arms in thought. We have a traitor...but who?