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Authors: Lexi Johnson

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The Elven King (7 page)

BOOK: The Elven King
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Sade hesitantly put the first spoonful into her mouth. Then she smiled with obvious delight. “This is great!”

“Yes,” Meldigur said, “Aran’s always been a passable cook. But now, bond-brother, you have some things you need to share…”

Aran nodded.

This was dangerous ground. He could not lie. But nether could he risk revealing that he’d crossed into the mortal world, however briefly -- especially since he had taken a life there.

So he thought back, and began at the start: at the hand-fasting ceremony where he’d first met Lairelithoniel.

“I admit,” he told them, “I spied on her briefly before the ceremony. She was talking with someone, but they had a geis of silence between them, and I couldn’t hear what they spoke about.

“While they were talking, she called one of the birds of the upper canopy to her. As I watched, she whispered something to it -- before she ripped free its primary feathers, one by one, and tossed the bird off of the ledge. The poor thing flapped madly, but without the flight feathers, it plummeted.”

And how the princess had giggled, hiding her teeth behind her hand, her face sharp with delight. Aranion shuddered at the memory.

“I swear by all the Gods, I felt that bird’s terror and pain right up to the moment it died. Whatever mask the Bane Sidhe are putting on to foster this pretense of peace between us, it is a lie. Their ways are all deceit and betrayal. We cannot allow this taint into our home.”

Meldigur’s face had lost all mirth. He nodded seriously. “And that’s when you decided to run?”

“No,” said Aranion. “That’s when I spoke with my father. I wouldn’t have betrayed his sworn promise without speaking with him first.” He sighed. “But ever since Herion died, and his successor has been interpreting the Gods’ signs, things have…changed.”

Meldigur’s eyebrows rose sharply. “Are you saying Talathion is manipulating the signs?”

Aranion shrugged. “He’s young. Far too young for the job. That’s what I’m saying -- and I’m not the only one. But, as you know, my father believes that if he follows the Gods’ path exactly, he will find a way to bring my mother back from her endless sleep. And Talathion is aware of this too.” He shook his head. “It’s not a good situation, however you view it.”

“So, you would claim to know better than the Gods?”

“I know evil when I see it,” Aranion said decisively. “If I stayed and participated in this farce of a marriage, it would give the Bane Sidhe free rein -- as family -- to intrude in our halls. Then, unavoidably, their ways would taint ours. They wouldn’t need to conquer us. They could simply devour us from inside. Our people would be left as what the Bane Sidhe already are: only a beautiful shell, around a rotting core.”

Sade had been listening intently, looking from one to the other. Now she said, “So… Your marriage is arranged?” She seemed to have grown calmer. “That’s not right at all.”

Aranion shrugged. “It’s how things are done,” he said. “We don’t marry for love, though love can develop as a result. And a husband or wife may take pleasure as they will, and any children of such unions are met with joy and respect. To tell the truth, it’s so difficult for us to have children that any child is welcome. But…” He paused. “A soul-bond is a different thing.”

“It had better be,” Sade said. “If you’re with me, you’re with me and only me.”

Meldigur coughed. “Well, you mortals aren’t so long-lived as we are.”

Aranion was no longer so sure that was the case, as much as that time there moved more rapidly than time did on this side of the Veil. What would have happened to his lifespan, if he’d crossed over and stayed? Would he have lived only a mere 70 or 80 years?

“So, it’s like dating a vampire?” Sade said. “Like on that show? You’ll stay young and beautiful, while I get old and die?”

“Not if you stay here,” Aranion quickly assured her. He’d learned that much from his childhood lessons about mortals. “But,” he added, “when you go back, whatever intervening time has passed in your world will soon settle in your flesh and spirit. That is why it’s so dangerous for mortals to cross over for more than a short time.”

“I—“ Sade’s eyes widened. Her voice caught. “So you’re saying even when the gate opens again, I might still be trapped here?”

“Trapped?” Aranion echoed dumbly.

The thought that Sade would feel trapped with him was startlingly painful. Although, of course, that was essentially what had happened. It was why he had tried to resist the bond -- why he had tried to send her back through the gate before it closed.

“I never intended to keep you here against your will,” he said.

“But now we’ve got this soul-bond thing, right?” she said urgently. “And time is passing faster in my world than here? That’s what you said.”

“Yes,” he explained, “but it’s not that simple. I don’t know how quickly time passes there. You might have a moon -- a year, even -- before it becomes too late.”

“I
might?
Maybe?” Her hands had started shaking as she gripped her cup. “That’s not good enough,” she said. “I have to go back, somehow.”

She looked at Aranion. “I’m not trying to leave you, but…” Her eyes were shining, and she bowed her head. “God—the cops—the blood. Charles – my brother… he’s going to think I’m dead! They’re going to think Michael took me somewhere and killed me! I can’t leave it like that. I
can’t.”

“I—“ Aranion could hardly breathe or think through the waves of pain, guilt and fear that Sade was projecting through their bond.

He had never considered this complication. He had been prepared to leave everything he’d ever known; he had already come to terms with that. But when Sade had chosen to cross the gate, it had been without any understanding of the consequences. Of course, she must have family and friends among her own people. And now, minute by minute, they were growing farther and farther away.

“How long before I’ve been here too long?” she said. “That gate opens when the moon is full…my aunt told me that.” She sat upright suddenly, as if struck by a thought. “Oh, God! I bet that’s what happened to her. She was here, wasn’t she? She wandered through, and she stayed too long!”

“I don’t know,” Aranion said. Sade’s hands were still gripping the cup. He reached out to cup them in his own.

“We’ve had mortals come through to our world before,” he told her. “If they end up in the hands of the Bane Sidhe, terrible things can happen to them. To be truthful, we Sidhe like to play our games with them as well, but…we don’t hold cruelty as our highest form of pleasure.”

“I can’t leave my brother like that -- thinking I’m dead or worse. I just can’t,” Sade said. She met his eyes, her own full of determination. “You have to take me back to where we came through,” she said. “The gate comes every full moon, Nana said. I’ll just wait for it.”

The thought of her leaving was agony. It was all Aranion could do to keep his thoughts focused, and his voice calm, as he tried to explain: “Wild gates don’t work that way. It could reappear at another place -- past the forest. Or in the Bane Sidhe lands, even.”

“That’s it, then? No options? There has to be
something
we can do.” Sade had started to shake again.

Sade’s emotions were consuming Aranion’s mind, making it almost impossible for the elf to think. He wanted to take her into his arms and dampen her pain. But the burden of carrying her distress and anxiety on top of his own was making it impossible for Aranion to do anything more than hold her hands in his – though he doubted that even that was helping much. Just as her fear and pain were heightening his, Aranion’s emotions must also be magnifying hers, amplifying them back to her in a loop.

Thankfully, Meldigur still had a level head. He said: “The best thing for both of you is to return to the Sidhe court.” They turned to look at him.

“There is a captured gate in the temple,” he went on. “You can speak with the priests -- they understand gates better than any of us. And…” He exchanged a meaningful glance with Aranion. “… since that’s where we have to go anyway, it’s really the only solution.”

Sade looked at Meldigur, and then back at Aranion. “Is that right?” she asked.

Aranion nodded. “The priests are the only ones who truly understand how the gates work; how to hold them captive, and direct them to the Gods’ will.” But they would have to speak with the priests quickly. For every sunrise here, who knew how many days were passing in the mortal world?

Sade’s fear was easing, if only a little. Aranion found himself also calming.

With each moment, the soul bond brought them closer and closer together.

He couldn’t stand the thought of letting Sade go. But he also couldn’t escape the grief and guilt she was feeling about leaving her family.

The Gods had a cruel sense of humor, that was sure. Why else would they have bonded by soul two people so ill-suited to be together?

 

 

Chapter 7: An Elven Bath

This was not a strange dream, nor even a nightmare. Sade knew that, because you could wake up from nightmares.

And, in spite of everything, the warmth of Aranion’s hands around hers was still compelling.

‘More fool you, Sade,’ she thought, and raised the cup of soup to her lips, effectively dislodging him.

Sade gulped down the dregs of her now lukewarm soup as Aranion packed his few meager possessions.

Sade just couldn’t imagine never seeing her brother again. Mama’s accident had been hard enough, in part because she’d lingered. Even when she and Charles had agreed, together, three weeks later, to turn the respirator off, Sade had been praying the whole time for a miracle that never came.

The pain had pulled the siblings together, while at the same time pushing them farther apart. It was why Charles had moved away – he had said he needed to “get some space from the whole thing.” But that didn’t mean that he wouldn’t notice when Sade stopped picking up her phone.

She would never have followed Aranion through that gate if she’d thought that it meant walking away from everything she knew and cared about. Aside from one night of unbelievable sex, what did she know about Aranion, anyway
? That he was an elven prince who had run away from a forced marriage to a sadist?

And yet… after only this one night and day, she couldn’t imagine life without him. To feel this intense a connection
to a man she’d known less than a day was terrifying. She didn’t want this, she thought – the intelligent part of her really didn’t want this. But at the same time, it wasn’t as if she had a choice about what she wanted.

Buck up, Sade, she told herself. You’ll find a way through this. There’s always a way through.

Finishing her soup, she handed the empty cup to Aranion, who promptly tossed it onto the ground. “It’ll return to its own form in time,” he said, absently.

Sade nodded, already turning her thoughts to more significant things.

It was more important than she had ever imagined that she make a good impression on the Elven King -- and she looked like a mess. She wished she had some way to get herself clean, and do something with her hair, at the very least. But failing that, she simply put it in a rough braid, smoothing down the halo of frizz that always seemed to blossom from her temples no matter how recently she’d had her hair relaxed. She decided she wasn’t even going to think about how terrible she must smell. Meldigur watched her beauty routine with interest. Sade wasn’t sure if that bothered her.

Aranion had finished gathering his things from the tree hollow that had been, very briefly, their home. Clearly, it was time to leave.

Sade asked, “How long will it take us to walk to the castle?”

“Castle?” Meldigur laughed. “Walk! You mortals are so odd.”

Sade wanted to smack the condescending amusement from Meldigur’s face, but Aranion put a hand on her shoulder.

“Don’t mind him,” Aranion said. “He’s always had more humor than sense.”

Meldigur shrugged. “If by that you mean I don’t choose to spend my years in a cloud of earnest despair, then, certainly, yes.”

Sade looked at Meldigur carefully. He was slightly thinner than Aranion, and half a head taller, too. His body was all whipcord muscle over fine bones, his hair a burnished gold, in contrast to Aranion’s moonlight silver. Both elves were pale, graceful, and possessed of a beauty that compelled full attention.

For Sade, Meldigur’s looks held no candle to Aranion’s, but had she met Meldigur first, she would have found him attractive… at least, until he opened his mouth.

“Ignore him,” Aranion told her. “What he was trying to say is that even a Bane Sidhe wouldn’t bind themselves in a cave of dirt and rock. Our people live in the branches of the World Trees, far above the earth. Most live their lives without ever setting a foot upon the ground.”

“So…” Sade ventured. “Does that mean we have to climb?”

“Hardly,” said Meldigur. “Since I’ve no need for stealth, I can simply use a homecoming spell.”

Aranion reacted quickly. “Sade and I must speak with my father before we are seen by anyone else in the court,” he said firmly. “An interrogation would be…difficult.”

He took his silver knife from his belt. In one quick motion, he sliced free a hunk of his pale, shining hair. “Hide us somewhere in the court,” he said. “Give this to my father. And have him come to us.”

Meldigur said warningly, “You’ve given your word you won’t run.”

“And I won’t,” Aranion assured him. “But this requires the greatest delicacy. Please -- as my bond-brother, will you do this for me?”

Meldigur sighed.

“I’ll take you both to my home,” he said. “It’s already been thoroughly searched, so you should be safe there. And I’ll do my best to persuade your father. But, as you know as well as I do, the King follows his own rules. We dance the steps of
his
choosing.”

Aranion nodded, and handed the hair to Meldigur who, with a flick of his fingers, made it disappear.

Even a few hours ago, Sade would have marveled at the trick. But now she was too tired, too confused, and too scared to care. Magic was real, then. Wouldn’t Charles be surprised?

Sade shook her head. No, better not to think of Charles.

BOOK: The Elven King
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