Dallyn rolled the small golden fruit between his fingers before tossing it into the air. He caught it between his teeth, a look of sublime satisfaction on his face. Leaning back in the oversized chair, he propped his feet on the heavy wooden table, reaching for another fruit.
“You spend too much time playing with your food.” Darnee leaned against the wall, watching his performance.
“I don’t play with it. I enjoy it. Savor it.” He tossed and caught the fruit as he had before, popping it between his teeth, allowing the juices to spread through his mouth. “I learned that from the Mortals.” He grinned.
“How can you be so cavalier after what we just sat through?” Darnee paced along the opposite side of the table.
“I beg your pardon. I am rarely cavalier. And never without good reason. There is no point to be made in allowing the Council meeting to distress you. We have no control over them. Lest you forget, we report to them.” As always, she needed to relax. Telling her so, however, was likely to get his ears boxed.
“I feel certain there are those on the Council who could aid us if only they were not all so busy jockeying for their own position. We face a crisis, yet none of them will come forward to help. They tie our hands and then sit and look to us to find their salvation. Everything we have worked for is coming to an end.” She flopped into the chair across from him, propping her boot-clad legs on the table, the mirror image of his own position.
He took a moment to admire those long legs while deciding how to answer. Darnee really was a beautiful woman. She was also much too impatient. Much too bound by the rules. And quite lethal. Not a good combination. Unfortunately she was also too much like a sister to him to evoke feelings other than platonic, a fact he sometimes regretted.
“We will continue to seek the descendants. The only difference is that now we will have to shift our focus from searching out new Guardians to protection and defense of the females.”
Darnee pulled her feet from the table, and leaned toward him, “Why did you not tell the Council what happened in that clearing?”
“I did. They fought, Ramos risked his life to save Ian, and Reynard escaped after the Mortal woman shot Sarah.”
He reached for another fruit and she brought her hand down on top of his, trapping it against the bowl.
“You did not tell them anything about what happened to Reynard. What Ramos and Ian both saw Sarah do to him. Why not?”
He patted her hand, lifting it from his own. He’d lost the desire for fruit anyway.
“They would not have believed. A true Fae should not be able to be wounded on the Mortal Plain. It cannot happen.”
“But it did. Her hands burned into his chest. They both saw it. They both heard his screams.” She shook her head slowly. “Where do you think he is now?”
“He is off licking his wounds, I would guess.” He paused, wondering how much to say to her. Wondering that she hadn’t figured it out for herself. “Assuming he survived.”
Her eyes grew wide, understanding coloring them the deepest green. “You do not think he did, do you? That is why you did not tell the Council, is it not? It is against everything we have known for centuries that something like that could happen.”
Dallyn shrugged. It had happened. He didn’t doubt the story of either man. Which left him with only one possible conclusion. The gifts were returning to the world of man. The powers all Fae possessed at one time but could no longer access on the Mortal Plain were, after all these generations, reappearing in the hands of mixed-race Fae. Half-Mortal descendants. The potential for catastrophe was beyond frightening, especially to ones such as he and Darnee who had witnessed the original destruction firsthand.
“For now, it is enough that we know. That we be prepared. That our Guardians be prepared.”
“But should we not try to warn the Council? What if…”
“No,” he interrupted. “You saw them when we told them the Nuadians were actively seeking the females. You saw their resistance to accepting Ramos, to understanding that his father had a vastly more devious plan for that young man. Only his own innate goodness kept him from becoming a deadly weapon turned against us. How long did it take to convince them of something as simple as that? Something with the facts clearly in front of them?” He stopped, breathing deeply, reaching for the calm. He was too old to lose control. Was it his fault the Council chose not to pursue healing, deciding there were none qualified to carry on that work?
“So we wait.” Something eerily close to fear shone in her eyes.
“We wait. But while we wait, we make sure our Guardians are prepared for the worst. And we stay vigilant, aggressively searching—”
A knock cut short the discussion. Before either of them could rise to answer, the door opened and their visitor entered. Both jumped to their feet, bowing their heads respectfully.
Pol held up a hand, shaking his head. “No, there is no need for that. May I speak with you?”
“Certainly, Your Highness.” Darnee extended her arm in welcome. “Please be seated.”
“I was much moved by your impassioned presentation before the Council today. I have decided to help you. If…” He paused, steepling his fingers in front of him, concentrating his hard, unreadable stare on each one in turn.
Suspicion curled in Dallyn’s gut. This Prince of the Fae had long avoided the responsibilities of his seat on the Council, sitting back and allowing others to take the lead. Why now?
“If?” Dallyn encouraged.
“If we can keep this just between us. Knowledge of my involvement goes no farther than this room. I rather prefer the reputation I have worked hard to get. I find I can accomplish much more if everyone one is busy looking the other way.”
“And what do you want of us?” Dallyn was taken aback by that revelation, but waited to hear more.
“Unlike the others, I have maintained a connection to my descendants.” He paused and bowed his head while they absorbed this information. “They are, quite naturally, gifted. And their gifts are growing, as I suspect could be the case with other descendants. A tidbit of information I assume the two of you might also suspect, based on the urgency of your pleas today.”
Dallyn could do no more than nod his agreement.
“It has been many centuries since our people were ruled by Royalty. Few of the Royals are left. As a result, most have forgotten.”
“Forgotten what?” Darnee leaned toward the tall, elegant Prince.
“Our line was Royal for a reason, my dear. Our powers were stronger than those of other Fae. Therefore, it stands to reason that as powers grow in the descendants of the Fae, they will grow stronger in the descendants of Royals, does it not?”
“I had forgotten,” Dallyn murmured. It was so long ago, like a tiny detail from a bygone childhood story.
“Yes. Most have. And I must admit I have seen no reason to remind anyone. Nevertheless, based on your report”—he narrowed his eyes as he gazed at Dallyn—“or more specifically, what was not in your report, I believe the time has come for me to act, to press forward with my plan.”
“And that would be?” The suspicion flooded back. If this Prince thought to overthrow the Council, he had seriously misjudged the Captains of the Guard.
“I plan to set my descendants on the course of Healing. To give them the task of reuniting the Soul-mates torn apart in the Siege of the Fountain.”
“How is that possible?”
“I have children who are strong enough at last. One has even demonstrated the ability to control time.”
Dallyn sat back, stalling while he tried to accept the significance of Pol’s claim. If it were true, it would go far to explain why the Prince didn’t want anyone to know. Talk about rule bending.
“And how do you see us fitting into your plans?”
Pol stood and paced, much as Darnee had earlier. “I propose we combine our efforts. I organize my Healing army, for lack of a better name, and the two of you continue to locate and protect. I believe you were correct in your assessment of the danger. Now that the Nuadians have come so close to successfully reentering our world, they will aggressively pursue other female descendants to try again. Working together, attacking both ends of our problem, I believe we have the opportunity to rebuild what was lost. Before it is too late.”
Dallyn stood, glancing over at Darnee before replying. “I think I speak for both of us when I say, you can count on our assistance, Your Highness.”
Darnee nodded her agreement.
“Then it is done. We are bound by oath to the survival and security of both worlds.” Pol strode to the door, turning at the last minute. “I knew I had judged you well. I will be in touch.”
After his departure, Dallyn and Darnee quietly sat back down.
“I hardly know what to say. That was completely unexpected. And yet exactly what we needed. The Prince is an answer to our prayers.” She rose and walked over to the large window at the end of the room. Gazing out, she was clearly lost in thought.
“Yes, he certainly is.” Dallyn narrowed his eyes as thoughts of his own raced through his mind.
The ground rules for their new association were quite clear, the responsibilities well defined. Still. There could very well be those among the descendants of the Prince who were better suited to be Guardians than Healers.
Dallyn smiled as he reached into the bowl in front of him. Tossing the golden oval into the air, he caught it with his teeth and rolled the sweet fruit in his mouth.
The last time he’d bent the rules things had worked out quite well. Perhaps he had as much talent for Healing as for Protecting. Perhaps the lines weren’t so clearly drawn after all.
Perhaps he just needed to find a way to meet some of Prince Pol’s descendants.
He pierced the fruit in his mouth, and laughed.
“What?” Darnee turned to stare at him questioningly.
“Nothing really. I was just thinking how things are looking up.” He stood and reached his hand toward her. “Come on, we’ve much to do.”
She joined him and they left the Hall. They each needed to contact their Guardians to set the wheels in motion.
Dallyn paused to give her a light kiss before parting company. He rubbed his hands together as he left the building, enjoying the feeling of anticipation.
Darnee had been wrong earlier. Everything wasn’t coming to an end.
It was just beginning.