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Cal suppressed a sigh as Relian laid her down on the bed. His arms felt so good around her. But all fairytale moments had to come to an end. Now was the time to face what’d happened. The thought of it made her quiver. She wasn’t used to the idea of nearly dying. Thank heavens the pain wasn’t bad. Was that due to the adrenaline or the stuff he’d put on her cheek, neck, and chest?
Relian removed her slippers, pulled the counterpane up to her waist, and made a show of fluffing up her pillows. He couldn’t seem to settle down. Were his hands shaking?
He continued fussing around her, much to her annoyance. As he leaned over, hair fell over his shoulder and tickled her face. That was it. They needed to talk. She yanked on a strand. “Relian, stop. You’re making me nervous.”
He stood up straight. “My lady.”
She rolled her eyes at the stiffness of that title. “I think you can call me Cal.” Too bad the slowness of her words somewhat ruined the effect she’d been going for.
Relian ignored her comment. “A medic will be here soon to treat your wounds.”
“I’m not hurt that badly, am I?”
He grimaced. As he sat on the bed, the edge dipped. “Any scratch that touches your skin is too much. Though not deadly, the wound on your chest is fairly deep and will be painful. We’ll give you medicine to dull the pain and impede infection. This will also ensure we don’t chance any scars.”
“You have a way of ensuring no scar tissue forms?” Surprise laced her voice. Though such marvels were becoming commonplace back on Earth, she hadn’t thought of equivalent knowledge being available here. Her mind screeched to a halt. Earth? Since when had she stopped calling Earth home?
“For shallow wounds that are treated promptly, yes.” He bent over her, examining her cheek and neck. His gaze slid to the compress and lingered a bit too long on her chest for purely medical purposes.
She nearly giggled. Men were the same everywhere.
He finally ripped his gaze away. “Those scratches on your cheek and neck are shallow enough to heal quickly. The injury on your chest will take a little extra care but should be fine.”
“That’s good.”
He nodded. The silence stretched between them and left her alone with her thoughts—something she didn’t welcome.
“Wouldn’t an arrow to the wrist be a fatal wound?”
Relian reached out and took up one of her hands. “Yes, if not treated quickly with the proper techniques.”
Again, like so many times before, electricity shot up and down her arm. She ignored it. Flights of fancy would have to wait. “So what’ll happen to him?”
“He’ll live or die.” Unconcern for the ultimate fate of Eamon tinged his voice.
“Relian!”
He arched an arrogant brow at her. “What? You wish the best for your would-be killer?”
In a daze she shook her head. “No, he should be held accountable for his crime, but....”
“And to that end, my cousin will either live or die. It matters not to me.”
Cal reared up against the pillows and attempted to tear her hand from his grasp. Relian held on tight.
“Cousin? He’s your cousin?” If so, this changed everything. She couldn’t come between family and sure didn’t want to belong to one where certain members wished her dead.
Relian shrugged. “Yes, you couldn’t guess? We do look somewhat alike.”
“I thought that might be a coincidence. You’re all more similar than not, at least at first glance.”
His mouth curled. “Meaning we all look alike? One elf is as good as another?”
She shot him a wary glance. Was he joking? If not, she didn’t want to dig herself in deeper. Better start talking. “Not exactly, but you all have an inhuman quality you share.”
“The same could be said for you and Maggie of your humanity. It makes you more alike than different.”
“Exactly. What am I doing here?” She gestured from herself to him. “This, us, it’s insane. And apparently, humans aren’t regarded that highly here. I don’t wish to stay where I’m not wanted.”
“You’re wanted. You’re very much wanted.” He leaned closer, the gleam in his eye leaving no doubt of her welcome right now.
“Relian, the med—” His mouth cut her off. The rasp of his tongue against her lips sent tingles ricocheting through her body. She moaned, half in pleasure and half in despair. How could he make her lose control like this?
His hands came up to cup her face. “You’re an enchantress,” he murmured against her lips. Then he deepened the kiss until time and space narrowed down to him. Nothing else existed.
“Ahem.”
She and Relian broke from their embrace. His father stood in the doorway, Maggie and a medic behind him. Heat swept across her cheeks. Great, they had an audience.
Talion pretended to peek around the hand he’d raised to shield his eyes. “Everyone clothed?”
Relian sent a cool stare toward his father, though a streak of red highlighted his high cheekbones. “Everything is and was in its place, Father.”
Maggie smirked and pushed Talion aside. “Except your lips.”
Cal closed her eyes. This was degenerating faster than anticipated.
Talion snaked out a hand, stopping Maggie in her tracks. He ignored her objections, keeping her next to him, and considered the couple on the bed. “You two have that flush of health. Come, Mirdir, let’s make sure the lady retains her glow.”
As the medic treated and bandaged up her cuts and scrapes, they talked about what awaited Eamon. “Banishment,” Talion said.
His proclamation rang in Cal’s ears. She tightened her fingers on Relian’s. “So he’ll be banished if he survives?”
Relian caressed the back of her hand as his father answered. “Yes, and only renegades will take one such as Eamon in. No kingdom will have him.”
Cal frowned. That seemed a dangerous decision. What would stop Eamon from seeking revenge at some further time? And there were other kingdoms? She filed that knowledge away for later. “How can you trust he won’t come back and do more harm?”
Relian answered the question. “More than likely, he won’t survive long. Worse things are roaming the land than renegades.”
The room went quiet until Maggie’s voice broke the silence. “Animals?”
A wry smile curved Relian’s lips. “You could say that. But unfortunately for Eamon, even the darkindred no longer favor traitors, as it doesn’t bode well for their armies. They like to corrupt the pure of heart.”
Cal seized onto this information. “Darkindred?” Her mind went back to the creature in the courtyard. “The creature in the cour—”
Relian laid a finger over her lips. “Our traditional enemies. Nothing for you to be concerned about.”
Talion walked to Relian and placed a hand on his shoulder. “I think this knowledge will do little harm.” He turned to the medic. “You are done?” After Mirdir nodded, the king took a protesting Maggie by the elbow and ushered her out. The medic followed.
After the door closed, Relian surprised her by lifting her sideways onto his lap. He wrapped his arms around her. “You haven’t studied much of our history yet, have you?” At her shake, a dark smile played over his lips. “The darkindred are patterned closely after elvinkind.”
She tilted her head so she could shoot him an inquiring look. “How so?”
“They were once elves but are no longer. The darkindred are converted creatures. Using dark means, they change others into what they’ve become.”
“So they can change anybody?” Her voice quavered. She couldn’t imagine fighting such beings, but she couldn’t imagine fighting elves, either. Whenever the two clashed, it was sure to be a hell of a fight.
Relian tunneled his fingers through her hair. “Yes, but it’s a secret process known only to them. They can’t convert us through simple bites or slashes on the battlefield, or we would all be darkindred by now.”
“Bites and slashes?” That sounded very animal-like, not at all like the elves she’d come to know.
His hands caressed her neck, carefully skirting the bandage. “That is their main difference from us. Their animal senses override any ingrained elvin restraint, especially in the newly converted. The older ones are still animals but can act as civilized as an elf when the situation calls for it. Newly converted darkindred appear feral and wild in appearance. You saw the one we brought into the courtyard. He was young. As they become older, they revert to their original form, looking very much like they did before the conversion. Except for their eyes. Those are yellow and stay that way, for the most part. Only the strongest and oldest of their kind can control their eye color for limited periods. Still, there are other ways for the ones who’ve returned to their original form to hide their eye color. I believe you can see how all this could be troublesome?”
She leaned her head against his shoulder, a shiver racking her. “It’s becoming harder to tell who is who or what.”
“Yes. It’s posing a problem as more and more people are taken. In the beginning, it wasn’t such a dilemma, for the darkindred started out of a very small group. We knew exactly who and what they were capable of, for we were the ones who’d determined their punishments.”
“Punishments?” She sensed a story there.
Relian sighed. “That’s for a later day.”
Cal didn’t complain at his refusal, as her mind already overflowed with all she’d learned. Who would’ve thought it would take almost getting killed to squeeze some information from him?
***
Two days later, Relian watched as his father slowly rose from his elaborately carved chair. Strolling at a leisurely pace, his father headed toward a glaring Eamon, who stood bound in chains and surrounded by soldiers. A thick bandage was wound around the accursed elf’s wrist, and his pallid complexion more than hinted he was still in pain from his injury.
All in all, the enjoyable sight made Relian smile coldly. The terror of Eamon holding a knife to Cal’s neck haunted his dreams and every waking second. Even now, a cold sweat broke out on his skin at the memory. A quick glance at Cal, who stood toward the front of the crowded room, calmed his fears. She was here—alive and well. The cuts on her neck and cheek were vanishing, thanks to elvin medicine, and the healing wound on her chest would do likewise in another week or so. As if she felt his gaze on her, she turned a sad smile on him.
Talion’s voice rang out in the throne room, drawing his attention away from Cal. “Lord Eamon, for the attempted murder of Lady Calantha, you are hereby banished.”
A jolt of satisfaction coursed through Relian as Eamon stayed sullenly quiet. Though the elf before him might be his cousin, Eamon had long severed any ties through his behavior. A quick death was too good for him. Banishment would make him suffer more than anything else he could think of.
Relian looked at Cal, and his jubilation cooled. Her already pale face drained of whatever color it’d possessed. She wasn’t used to seeing justice meted out firsthand, but as his princess, it’d be a hard lesson she’d learn by experience all too often.
“Any last words you would like to say?” Talion asked Eamon.
A sneer came to Eamon’s lips. “Only that you all will be sorry. You know not what you do to our world.”
Relian nearly snorted at Eamon’s overdramatic reply. Though precautions would have to be taken to make sure his cousin didn’t sneak back into Eria, the thought of no longer harboring the viper sweetened his mood.
Talion gave Eamon a derisive look. “I think we’ll take that chance.”
***
Trying to put the Eamon event of the last few days behind her, Cal smiled at Relian. The creeper had been banished yesterday, so there was no cause for worry anymore. She breathed in the scent that permeated the enclosed patio that housed a dizzying array of plants and flowers. To get here, Relian and Kenhel had guided her and Maggie through a dizzying number of hallways in the royal wing.
When she and Maggie had first arrived in Eria, she hadn’t realized how the paths, corridors, and courtyards interconnected everything. The many structures merged and flowed together into one big edifice. She’d never seen this section of the rambling palace before, though. As with almost anything concerning the palace area, she wasn’t disappointed by what she saw.
Maggie, probably eager to try out the new language they’d been learning, cleared her throat. “What are you exactly?” she asked slowly, but her words were clear. “I know you told us you’re all elves, but is that what you really are? Is it what you call yourselves?”
Relian and Kenhel shared a look before Relian spoke, taking care to enunciate his words. “Tuatha de Danann, the sídhe, the Fair Folk—we were called all those and more over the years. None of them are accurate but none false, either.”
Cal frowned. That was his explanation? “How so?” It couldn’t be true and false at the same time. Did he delight in giving such responses just to make her head spin?
Kenhel fielded that question, a definite gleam in his eye. “Our being, our existence, gave rise to those stories, but they don’t reflect who we are, as they aren’t true representations of us.” The seriousness of his tone belied the expression in his eyes.
Maggie rolled her eyes. “But that still doesn’t explain how you think of yourselves or what you are. Don’t even think about giving us another cryptic answer that sounds smart but tells us nothing.” She leveled a firm glare at both elves to punctuate her statement.
A voice came from the doorway that led to the adjoining study. “They wouldn’t think of such a thing, my lady.”
Talion. Oh, no. His tone of voice inferred that he wouldn’t have any such compunction in doing so and would, just to frustrate her friend.
Maggie froze and closed her eyes. Cal wished she could give her friend a shot of strength.
To Cal’s surprise, Talion merely gazed at Maggie before he spoke. “Haven’t you been learning about and observing us in our everyday tasks? Let that suffice to tell you how we think of ourselves. I believe that the answer as to what we call ourselves rests in the language you’re now speaking.”
Maggie narrowed her eyes to a slit, clearly suspicious this gentle rebuke might turn into all-out war. “Still can’t figure out the answer. However, I’m sure you’ll tell me.”
Relian slid his hand over Cal’s knee and up her thigh until he reached the hand in her lap. As her eyes met his, a smile flitted across his face. He nodded toward his father and Maggie, shaking his head in amused consternation.
“Of course.” Talion inclined his head, face impassive. “As you know, ‘eivana’ is a term we use when referring to ourselves, so we are eivana or elvin, which is the closest word that is available in English, according to our sources. ‘Eivan’ roughly means ‘elves’ in your language.”
“That does make sense,” Maggie begrudgingly admitted before her eyebrows shot up. “Sources?” She tapped her index finger to her lips. Her glare encased all three elves as she apparently remembered something that’d been niggling at her alarm-o-meter.
Cal couldn’t say she blamed her. It appeared the elves had been keeping more secrets from them. Before she could say anything, though, Maggie beat her to it. “How do you know all the different names you are called in English if you’ve never been to Earth?”
Talion neatly sidestepped Maggie’s questions by ignoring her. “As Kenhel was saying, there are no true tales left about us on Earth, only half-forgotten lies. What truth remains has seeped into distant memory. It had done so before we even left your kind to its own devices.”
Cal hesitated, glancing at Relian before looking back at his father. What did he mean by “left”? Were the elves once part of their world? There were so many unanswered questions that tumbled around in her head that she didn’t know where to begin. “The veil—I still don’t understand what it is. I know it’s some sort of doorway between our worlds.”
Talion glanced at her. “That’s a fair enough definition. The magic that ties nature and elf together also formed the veil. But even that is about as far as our knowledge stretches.”
“That’s what Relian said. But we want to know more. We’ve been here for nearly four months and still know virtually nothing of it.”
Talion nodded approvingly. “What little we can tell you of the veil is best started at the beginning.”
Maggie nudged her under the table and mouthed, “About time.”
All three elves watched them. Had they somehow overheard or lip-read what Maggie said? She thought it possible because Relian did show a beginning command of English. Cal wouldn’t be astonished if he actually knew more than he let on. She’d actually tried to trick him into revealing his knowledge once or twice, but it hadn’t worked.
She suspected there were still many secrets between them, and the possibilities of that had been on her mind frequently. Even her teenage years, which were largely messed-up due to the mist and Relian, had been haunting her lately. Something was hovering on the edges of her mind, but she could never figure out what it was.
“Relian, would you like to tell the tale?” asked his father.
“Nay, I learned it from you and my tutors, as I was not much out of childhood when it occurred. So I believe you are best situated to speak of it with assurance.”
Talion seated himself at Cal and Maggie’s end of the table, so he was adjacent to them. He was quiet for a while. “So much hinges on the veil.” Whatever else he thought, he didn’t voice and only offered a smile as his eyes cleared. “In truth, at one time there was no veil. Humanity and elf-kind had once been wary friends, but that slowly changed with the inevitability of time.”
That answered Cal’s question about whether elves had ever lived on Earth—now to discover what had made them leave. Whatever it was, it probably wouldn’t paint humans in the most favorable light.
Talion continued. “When mankind started to forget the bonds of friendship and, instead, cultivated fright and distrust of elves amongst themselves, the veil began to appear. It took many centuries to happen. As fear poured into the making of false, hurtful stories, my people retreated. We learned to distance ourselves by disappearing behind the veil and venturing out less frequently. The mist, which always signaled the development of the veil, formed before us in times of need. By the time most of us had abandoned humanity, the veil had such a grip on the two lands that even we were hard-pressed to cross easily back and forth. After the final passage, the stories of our previous presence passed into legend and myth.”
Maggie’s eyebrows drew together in puzzlement. “You mean that the veil only hid your homes away at the beginning, not separating them by dimension or whatever this is?”
Talion smiled. “No, it was always a dimensional shift of some kind. It just became more permanent as time carried on.”
“Oh.” Maggie said nothing else.
Another thought popped into Cal’s mind. “Wait, is travel still possible? It must be. Maggie and I are here.” She stared at him with narrowed eyes. “Why do you act as if the veil won’t let us go home now?”
Relian let out a slow breath, his jaw twitching. “Because it won’t, at least not until your year is up. Travel for us is still possible, but the veil governs it on its own terms. Very few of us have wanted to leave the relative safety of our lands for the unknown. Except for the occasional scout or two we sent every few hundred years, traveling through the veil has been frowned upon. After all, we willingly left Earth, so why return?”
“Curiosity?” Cal couldn’t imagine that a small yet sizable portion of the populace wouldn’t have a thirst for adventure. Exploring a world they’d long left behind sounded like an exciting tale to her. Maybe this was one major way in which elves and humans differed?
Relian shrugged and leaned back into his chair, still keeping a firm grip on her hand. “I’m sure we’ve had a few sneak onto Earth when the veil has made itself known, but for the most part, our people are happy here.”
“If people do go, wouldn’t their disappearance be noted?” Cal asked.
Kenhel snorted, propping his elbows up on the table. “People disappear all the time. On purpose or through attack. Sometimes they come back. Sometimes they don’t. I’m sure it’s the same way back on Earth.”
“Yeah,” both she and Maggie said at the same time. At least they’d found out a few answers. Talking about answers... Cal looked at Relian in bemusement. So that was the origin of all fae stories. “It’s hard to believe that Maggie and I are in a place that used to be a myth back home.”
Relian squeezed her hand. “Some would argue that reality is as much myth as anything else.”
Cal sent him a suspicious stare. “Oh no, I don’t want to talk philosophically with you all. I’m not falling into that trap.” She wasn’t about to open that can of contention. Given the collective ages of the elves assembled—something she could only guess at—she wouldn’t come out ahead in that discussion. Age didn’t always equate with wisdom, but that many years had to count for something.
The elves’ laughter rang out. Maggie scooted closer to Kenhel, and Cal watched her with curiosity. Was it just to be nearer to him or farther from the king? Kenhel seemed to like Maggie and she apparently felt the same, so was more than friendship in their future? Maggie gave no indication either way but had spent a fair amount of time in his company. Cal wanted her friend to be happy. Still, as she didn’t know her own future here, she didn’t want to push Maggie toward something that might not last.
As Relian drew circles over her palm with his thumb, contentment flooded her. At times like these, the attack from a few days ago seemed so far away. So did all the issues that could plague a relationship between her and Relian.
She touched her neck. The skin bore only a slight mark from the dagger, and Eamon had been banished. Time did solve some problems, but would it solve all?