Bound by the Mist (Mists of Eria) (34 page)

She stuck her tongue out at him as he stepped out of the bath and kept her gaze above his navel, which was a very difficult thing to do. He took her teasing action as an invitation to pull her up off the tub and delivered a soul-scorching kiss that left her weak in the knees. She ignored the wetness of his skin seeping through her dress and pressed closer to him. Their mouths opened fully as their tongues danced around each other.

He released her abruptly and grabbed a towel, saying “I need to dry off.” Her lust-addled brain blanked, and her throat went dry. He smirked after wrapping the fluffy cloth around his waist. “I see you’re not un-phased. Neither am I. Time to get dressed before I end up undressing you.”

She gritted her teeth and swore he was repaying her for the remark about him being gone for only a week and a half. But his tone couldn’t mask the huskiness in his voice or the flush on his cheeks.

“Was there any doubt about that?”

He shrugged and grabbed another towel to dry off. As she watched him, she groaned. He’d make a great masseur with those hands of his. She couldn’t wait to see if the experience lived up to the fantasy.

“So what have you occupied your time with since I’ve been gone?” He glanced at her from his bent position, the play of his sensuous hands relaxing her until he posed that question. Then it all came rushing back.

How could she forget about the prophetic scroll she and Maggie worried about for the past two days? Well, all clues pointed to love and, apparently, love played havoc with one’s memory. And engendered stupidity, at least in her case.

She stuttered a bit. “Oh, well about that.... I have to talk with you about something. But can we wait until after we eat lunch?” She prayed for that reprieve.

Relian wore a look of concern on his face but agreed readily to her request. She tried to keep her mind on the conversation while they ate but found it challenging. He noticed her monosyllable answers all too soon and sent her searching glances.

Blanching, she knew she needed to talk to deflect attention. “I didn’t hear any commotion coming from the main courtyard. How did you manage to arrive so quietly?”

He smiled, taking the bait or, at least, humoring her. “Even though my rank is higher than a mere messenger’s, I was chosen to serve in this very capacity. I brought news of our battle and how those wounded fare, so everything can be readied for them.”

She grabbed onto this. “Why were you picked for this if it was beneath you?”

“I’d never say it was beneath me or anyone else to carry out that post, but the simple reason I was chosen was because of my upcoming bonding to you. We’re to be mated soon. Nearly bonded couples fare better together than apart until the bond is fully completed.” His cheeks flushed. “Besides that, everyone seemed aware of my great need to see you, to be with you in some way.”

Her heart dissolved into a puddle of goo. She couldn’t resist him when he said things like that. But too soon, that feeling gave way to dread as they finished eating. Now came the hard part.

Chapter 32

“Let me see this scroll.” That was the first and only thing out of Relian’s mouth as Cal finished speaking. The urgency in his voice startled him. And Cal, too. Her eyes widened before she took an uncertain step back from him. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he cautioned himself patience, with both himself and Cal. He’d already resisted the overwhelming urge to run down the halls in search of the mysterious scroll, even though the feeling hadn’t truly left. If the parchment contained what she thought it did….

He hurriedly pulled Cal from the room, causing her to stumble. As soon as she righted herself, he was eating up the distance to their destination in long strides. But something about her gave him pause. Ambivalence radiated off her, and something else. He could’ve sworn she— He searched through their bond. She
was
fuming behind him. Dismay clouded his mind for a moment. When did she become so upset? Admittedly, she’d been nervous from the start, even before their meal was over.

But of what? She was his betrothed and should be secure of her position—there his thoughts drew an uneasy parallel—
she was human.
Reality crashed down on his exhilaration, almost pulling him up short. How obtuse to ignore her nature in his excitement. Now that snippet of conversation he overheard earlier made much more sense to him now than it had before. To her, it might seem like she had some valid fears.

He’d never let harm come to her, or Maggie, for that matter, but he must convince her of that. One part of him wanted to be offended she had reservations, but in truth, he hadn’t addressed or even noticed her emotional distress until now.

He stopped, halting Cal as she attempted to walk on. She kept her face level with his chest. Even when he tried to get her attention, she mulishly ignored him. Her body went stiff as he drew her into his arms.

He’d offended her with his behavior. He
had
been abrupt with her. Time to rectify that. “My lady, I didn’t mean to cause umbrage with my actions.”

“Jerk.”

He winced. This wasn’t going so well.

She wouldn’t even glance at him as words spewed from her mouth. “I don’t like being treated like a sack of potatoes that needs to be lugged around. I get you’re anxious about this news, but I’m not a servant to unquestionably follow orders,
Your Highness
.”

He recoiled from her furious words. “I’m truly contrite. My impatience with you wasn’t intended or planned. The information you presented...just overwhelmed me, making me forget all else temporarily.” He touched her cheek, knowing she couldn’t resist such a move on his part. “I’m sorry. Please understand if you’re right, what this could mean to the people of Eria. That would be no small piece of knowledge.”

She finally looked up. “I know, but in truth, that’s partly the reason I’m afraid.” Her voice caught. “I’m human, and so is Maggie. We don’t want anyone to misread that passage and think it calls for human blood in totally unacceptable ways.”

“I can see your fear. But even you mentioned it has to be willingly given, so I don’t think many would misunderstand that part.”

Cal shook her head. “All it would take is a few, though.”

“I would protect you and Maggie. You know that. But I think the best course right now is for me to actually read what’s written on that scroll.”

She sighed and took his proffered hand. She was still hesitant, but he no longer sensed her distress honing in on him. That he could handle.

They walked in silence at a steady pace, side-by-side. Once they arrived at the den, he opened the door and motioned for her to go inside first. She immediately went over to one of the shelves lining the room and reached between books and multiple scrolls. Pulling out a rolled-up piece of parchment carefully hidden behind the others, she placed it on the nearest desk and stepped back. “It looks to be quite old.” A wry smile flitted over her face. “But then, old is relative here, or so I’ve come to learn.”

Looking at the scroll, he could see how she arrived at that conclusion, even though it was as she admitted. While it was tattered at the edges, it wasn’t that old, given the style of the parchment and its overall shape. “It’s probably only seven or eight hundred years old, if that.”

“That old? How is it still in one piece, lying in the open air as it has been?” The wonder in her voice told him this wasn’t a common occurrence in her world.

He shrugged. “It’s probably a combination of how we formulate and manufacture our paper, coupled with the natural magic that sustains our world.”

Now that he was there, now that the scroll rested before him, he hesitated to pick it up and read it. So much could rest on that one sheet of paper. His hands shook as he reached for it. The parchment was smooth against his hands, like any other piece would be. He didn’t know why, but it surprised him it wasn’t any different.

As he smoothed the scroll out on the desk, he perused it carefully and came to the same conclusion Cal had—that mortality or humanity factored heavily into whatever means they were to take. He let out a long breath he hadn’t known he kept hostage, his mind reeling at what to do next. First, they had to determine if the passage was a real instance of foresight or some flight of fantasy. If it were real, the practical application of that information would be the next hurdle faced. He glanced over at Cal, who’d moved closer.

She put her hand on his arm. “Well, what do you think?”

***

Relian shifted anxiously as his father finished reading the scroll. The moment stretched on, even though only a matter of minutes passed since he read it himself. Cal stood by his side, hands clasped together.

Talion looked up, disbelief in his eyes. “I thought this seemed familiar.” He must’ve seen astonishment on their faces, for he chuckled. “No, I wasn’t referring to the prophetic passage but to something else within this scroll.”

He furrowed his brow. “What, Father?”

“The handwriting. I know that script.”

To his disappointment, his father didn’t add anything more to that last statement. “Whose?”

Talion gave another chuckle, that time without any humor. “I’m not sure if you want that answer.”

Relian rolled his eyes. “Father, I’ve long been of the age to hear unpleasant tidings.”

“Yes, but about your family?” Talion shuffled papers around on his desk, arranging them in neat piles. “Your mother’s family, to be exact?”

A sick feeling swept over him, and he leveled a piercing look upon his father. He had better explain what he implied.

“The person who wrote this was known to have some foresight. It was your mother’s father.” Talion raised his hand, forestalling his flood of questions. “I can only hazard a guess as to why this was buried somewhere inconsequential, but I need to do some research before I reveal that reason to you.”

He was about to argue the point when Cal’s humorous voice chimed in. “Huh, I guess you all pull that mysterious “I know something you don’t” stuff on each other, and not just on the poor ignorant humans you happen to run across.”

***

“Andrian was ther—” Talion’s voice asked quietly before breaking off. Cal and Maggie stood outside the door, ready to knock, and shared a knowing glance. All talk inside had come to a halt when the occupants of the room discovered their presence.

The king bade them to enter. As they walked in, the men’s gazes lay heavily upon them. Cal gulped. The feeling of being on trial wouldn’t go away, but she knew why they all gathered there. As she glanced around, she saw only the most trusted of advisors and councilors there. Relian had taken her aside earlier to tell her of the meeting and who would attend. Besides the king, Relian and Kenhel, Avrin and Sardon were also there, along with a few others.

Talion gestured with a hand, favoring them with a slight smile. “Please sit down, my dears.”

They took their seats, ensconced between Relian and Avrin, while the king got down to business. “All here were previously informed as to why we gather here today. I give leave for everyone to speak freely.”

Kenhel spread out his long legs before him. “Like we ever wait for permission.”

Avrin threw an amused look at the irritated king. “Indeed.”

Talion cast his gaze upward but offered no response. Those had to be his closest friends and advisors, for only people at ease with him would dare to tease him so. It definitely didn’t happen at the more public functions.

Talion cleared his throat. “I believe we’re all in agreement about the mortality part specified? There seems to be something in the blood of mortals that’s pointed to as a possible cure.”

Maggie grimaced. “As long as it’s not construed as a blood sacrifice, I’d have to admit, yes, there is something in our blood to which the passage refers.”

Sardon wore a distasteful look on his face. “We’re not primitive and don’t practice blood sacrifice, especially the way in which you mean it. We’re not so savage as to think we can find a willing victim, slit his or her throat, and that everything will return to how it should be with that mere act.”

Maggie stared at Sardon, her mouth agape, until Avrin’s voice filled the void. “What my dear friend is so eloquently trying to say is we think the passage refers to blood being collected. To be freely given, yes, but in small amounts that come nowhere near to approaching the point of death. We’re sure the freewill part is a warning to some of our more over-zealous people who might be tempted to take matters into their own hands. Again, I’m not saying most would cause any lasting physical harm, but the willing part might be somewhat overlooked. Sleep can be easy to force upon another, especially a human not used to our ways. As Sardon alluded to, we’ve never dealt with notions of sacrificial death, at least in our recorded history, and see no reason to start now. Now we only need blood willingly offered that we can study and analyze, so we can dissect this puzzle.”

Cal’s cheeks, like Maggie’s, flamed as their seemingly erroneous worry was called out. But relief also infiltrated her mind. While they hadn’t really believed death awaited them or hopefully any other human the elves got their hands on, they’d still pictured more devious and sadistic ways the elves might use to extract human blood. Maiming hadn’t sounded like such an impossibility with the stakes so high.

She voiced another concern that Avrin’s words brought up. “But do you have the needed knowledge and technology to work with blood? At least in our land, it takes regimented procedures and equipment to carry out that kind of research.”

Talion steepled his fingers. “That could be a problem area for us. Our sicknesses are few, so research of the kind you speak of has been infrequent. We possess some basic knowledge of microscopes, but much of our equipment literally dates back to the time when elves and humans lived on the same Earth.”

Maggie made a derisive sound. “Of course.”

He gazed at her in bemusement. “Back then, we were much more heavily involved with research involving sickness and disease—mostly yours, not ours.”