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Cal swung her head back and forth in stunned denial. The room’s plaster and stone walls spun around sickeningly, the cream and silver colors swirling together in a most unwelcome way. She was glad to be sitting down. As she waited for Talion’s study to right itself, she willed away the nausea.
Her gaze sought out Relian as he stood in front of her. “No. It’s not possible.”
She’d have an immortal life if she bonded with Relian? Anger seeped up through the shock. Relian had never once hinted at this. Well, she’d wished for revelations ever since arriving in Eria, and now they appeared to be flooding toward her in biblical proportions.
She pinned an accusing stare on Relian. “Why was I not told of this earlier? If you want me to seriously consider bonding to you, I need to know these things. You promised me no more secrets.”
“I’m telling you now,” he said quietly. “I promised not to lie to you from that day forward, and I haven’t.”
Cal crossed her arms. “Yeah, you’ve told me six months after you should’ve. I’m not impressed, Relian. How would you feel if you were in my place?”
“I...I wouldn’t like that I hadn’t been informed earlier.” He grimaced and dipped his head. “I apologize. I should have told you sooner but was afraid of how you would take it. At that juncture, I didn’t want to scare you away. To make up for my lack, I’ll gladly explain everything in detail. May I call in the others now? We can answer any questions you and Maggie may have.”
She nodded, not able to find words right now. Thought was barely possible right now. Though she was still sort of mad at Relian, there were so many other emotions swirling around in her head, she didn’t know how she should feel. Relian was probably hoping that by having the others join them, she wouldn’t blow up at him. And she wouldn’t. She’d save that for later.
In a matter of minutes, Maggie, Talion, Kenhel, and Avrin joined them. Given her friend’s dazed expression, she guessed they’d dropped the bomb on her, too.
Maggie sat heavily on the chair next to Cal’s. “I can’t believe it.”
Talion, sitting in a corner where he could easily watch the proceedings in the comfort of an exquisitely upholstered chair, questioned gently, “Are elves supposed to be possible in your world?”
Maggie tossed him a look of challenge and answered for her. “Yes, some people believe in them, particularly in other countries than the one we’re from.”
Talion shifted languidly in his chair. “It’s nice to know we’re remembered.”
Maggie snickered. “Yes, as the Wee Folk.” Her thumb and pointer finger approximated a height of a few inches. “A little, itty-bitty people.” She sniggered again. “Or sometimes you’re stuck in a tree, baking cookies. My personal favorite: snowed-in at the North Pole, making Santa’s toys.”
Talion merely lifted a brow before he looked at his son. “This, Relian, is why we left mankind a long time ago.”
Relian sighed. “Am I going to have to separate you two in order to continue this conversation? I knew it wasn’t a good idea, Father, when you suggested attending along with Maggie. How Kenhel and Avrin came to be here, I don’t know.”
Kenhel, seated in a chair by Avrin, offered a frown that would’ve been convincing if not for the twinkle in his eyes. “I’m here to offer you emotional support, remember?”
“Ah yes, how could I forget?” Relian said, his face implacable. “You are the undisputed master of emotional support.”
Avrin shot him a smile. “I’m here to offer Lady Maggie any guidance I can in this trying time.”
Talion rested his chin on his steepled hands, looking thoughtfully at Avrin. “And who will support you, Avrin, in your laborious, if nonexistent, duty?”
Avrin favored Talion with a tranquil smile, not replying. He didn’t need to. Cal knew what would come next and gave a silent groan. It was a sound Relian echoed through their growing bond. Now that she understood how the bond functioned, she was learning not only to identify which emotions she leaked to him but also to discern the ones from him. However, she suspected that he was much more adept at closing himself off when he wanted to.
“I’m sure he’ll use whatever support he’s utilized for the last millennia as an advisor to you, King Tut.”
Cal choked, somewhere between laughing and wanting to bang her head against the wall. Though nobody but she and Maggie probably recognized the reference, calling the king a “you’re so ancient, you should be dead in your grave” old wasn’t the way to go.
The king shook his head in a pitying way and gazed at Maggie through lowered lids. “My dear child, my name is Talion. Whoever thought humans were such forgetful creatures? As you’re young in years, I suppose your mind hasn’t had time to fully grow. A tutor shall have to assist you in the rudimentary basics.”
Maggie’s face turned blotchy red, and her breath quickened. Cal froze, fearing her friend would spout out a nasty comeback.
After a few moments, Maggie replied in a carefully controlled voice, “Your Majesty, I assure you nothing is wrong with my mind, only with other people’s asinine observations.”
Relian snapped, though Cal sensed no true anger. “I don’t know why I thought this was a good idea. Out, everyone out!”
No one moved, and Talion reclined deeper into his chair. “Out?” he drawled. “Last time I looked, this was my study, as was the rest of the palace.”
Relian inclined his head, sarcasm written in his every move. “Be that as it may, I didn’t intend this to become a comedic spectacle put on for your collective amusement.” He raked his gaze over the assembled males, daring any to argue.
Talion stared drolly at his son. “I think we can control ourselves if you go on.”
A sardonic smile lifted the corners of Relian’s lips, and Cal willed her thudding heart to cease its rapid tempo. She shouldn’t want to kiss him. As if aware of her eyes upon him and the direction of her thoughts, he turned and fixed her with a dark, heated stare. She’d have to mask her emotions and thoughts better if she were going to keep much private from him.
A strong bolt of desire not her own ran through her, and she nearly gasped out loud. It seemed someone else felt like sharing. Relian's smile hadn’t diminished, though it was more of a smirk now. “Cal, I believe you were expressing your disbelief when we last left off.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Yes, thank you, I was.” Curiosity soon overtook annoyance. “How?” The thread of command in her voice wouldn’t fool anyone, but hopefully, it’d bring about the desired response—a straight answer. Little hope of that happening, though.
“We can bestow immortality on those whom we will.”
Cal glanced at Maggie, and both rolled their eyes. He’d given the requisite vague answer. The very voice of God could come down from the heavens demanding an answer, and an elf would still dissemble, finding the most circuitous reply to give.
“How?” both she and Maggie prompted.
This time Avrin spoke. “Through bonds of love, romantic or otherwise, it does not matter.”
“Ugh, what does that mean?” Maggie glared at Avrin, who offered her a grin.
Kenhel fielded that question, apparently wanting his turn to play with the humans. “It means love can forge a bond that can grant immortality. It’s not lightly done.”
“No, it is not,” Relian agreed. “The giving of immortality cannot be forced by either party, to give or to receive. The process won’t work unless true love is found on both sides, as there’s no way to fool the magic that controls that aspect of a bond.”
Cal rubbed her forehead. “A good way to ensure it’s not taken advantage of or used wrongly. You call it a bond. Is it like the one between us now?”
“The bond we share as of now won’t grant you immortality.”
“As of now?”
Relian placed a hand on her shoulder. “If we complete the bond, it’ll affect changes upon you—mainly immortality.”
What? “I thought you said it was voluntary—the immortality thing. Why would I have to become like you if I have a choice?”
He drew circles on her shoulder. “You’ll not become like me. You’ll stand to gain a long life, not become an elf. No magic exists that could make you one.”
Relief flowed over her. She liked being human and didn’t relish any transformation negating that fact. Still, immortality...
He let that sink in before continuing. “For a mortal, accepting the fulfillment of the completion bond is seen as the concurrent acceptance of immortality. Both of these are intertwined and can’t be separated in the immortal person—one cannot exist without the other. Our very nature allows this whole process to occur. Thus, immortality is granted to the human partner through the bond.”
“So I won’t die?” Cal’s voice wavered, reality slamming into her. Death had always been a given. How could it no longer exist for her if she bonded with him? This did explain why Relian had never seemed overly concerned about her mortality, though.
Relian gave her an odd smile. “Not of old age. That’s not to say immortals can’t die. We do, just not of old age—at least not directly.”
“Huh?” Maggie uttered, which Cal matched with a “Come again?”
Relian spoke again. “Like all things, we can and do die. Age-related illness may not take us but the ages can. Untold years can take a toll on anyone’s mind. When that happens and it becomes too painful to endure, we give up our lives.”
Cal remained silent, for what words of comfort could she give? Somewhere in the background, Maggie said, “Sounds suspiciously like suicide.”
Cal agreed. She now realized with clear recollection the hints and glimpses the elves had given her. The people here didn’t equate immortality with eternal happiness or light. Conversations and emotions too often turned sour when she broached the subject of long elvin lives. It was a bittersweet ending to learn that death, too, came for them. But how does one give up life?
Relian seated himself next to her on the divan, taking her hand in his. She was sometimes still amazed at how well he understood her. While he couldn’t directly read her mind, the emotions behind those thoughts were up for grabs, especially if she didn’t guard them well.
“There are some who seek it out in a more violent manner, such as in war. Most prefer the peaceful way—slowing down respiration and heart rate until the body shuts down.”
How in the world did they bring about those mechanics to achieve death? Drugs? She dreaded to hear anymore, though. There’d be plenty of time to find out if she did bond with Relian.
It seemed all paths lead to him, and she couldn’t imagine her life without him.
Her mind screeched to a halt. She couldn’t imagine her life without him? Was Maggie right? Was she that crazy about him? In fact, had she passed “crazy” and now waded into “permanently and deeply”? It was a sobering thought. Sure, she’d dated and liked some guys well enough but nothing more. No one had ever made it past lukewarm. Until Relian.
“Cal? Cal? Are you okay?” Maggie’s voice floated to her.
Cal jumped. “What? I’m sorry.” Her heart pounded much too fast for her voice to sound normal.
Maggie clucked her tongue. “We’ve been trying to get your attention for the last half-minute or so. You had Relian panicking. I thought he was going to shoot down the hall to fetch a doctor.”
Turning to Relian, Cal was startled to see him kneeling next to her. Though he glared at her friend for the descriptive account she gave, his cheeks had lost all color and something greater than worry lurked in his eyes.
Cal gave him a weak smile. “I’m fine. I didn’t mean to concern you.”
He squeezed her hand. “As long as you’re fine, all is well.”
How could she resist him? His gaze burned into her, warming every crevice. They stared at each other until Maggie’s words drew them apart.
“The whole immortality thing for mortals—wouldn’t that upset some kind of mythical universal balance or something?”
Talion gave a hint of a smile. “Ah, but not everyone would choose to live through eternity. To choose to do so, one has to be offered the chance first. There are not enough mortals being offered the opportunity to cause that kind of imbalance.”
“Yeah, considering there are only two unwed mortals here to begin with, I wouldn’t think so.” Maggie’s tone was dry.
“There used to be quite a few unions of that nature in the past when I was a child. The world didn’t end. In fact, it was quite peaceful at that time.”
“Back when the dinosaurs walked.”
“We can’t all be fresh from the cradle, little one.”
“World War III, here we come,” Cal muttered to no one in particular. For a moment Maggie appeared as if she might launch out of her chair and greet the king’s face with her fist. Like so many times before, a potential disaster was averted. Avrin leaned nearer and whispered words in Maggie’s ear, placing a restraining hand on her arm.
Cal sat back while Relian stood behind the divan, a possessive hand on her shoulder as they listened to Maggie challenge the king.
“So tell me more about when you die? Where do you go?”
Talion lifted a lazy brow. “Me? I don’t go anywhere. I’m alive.”
Maggie huffed impatiently. “Not you. Your kind. I thought that was understood.”
He sent her a small bow of the head that came off looking more haughty than courteous. “When we die, we most likely go where you do, wherever that may be.”
Maggie looked at him through lowered lashes. “I thought there were legends about a paradise where only your kind goes. Wherever that is.”
His shoulders shook in a slight laugh. “You can’t believe everything you read. Some legends don’t have any truth in them whatsoever. That is one. As for the ‘wherever’ of death—why, as far as I know—no elf has ever come back for a visit after leaving this plane of existence or yours.” He smirked at Maggie. “That would indeed be a memorable occasion, but alas, sadly it’s never happened.”
Maggie closed her eyes and appeared to be counting to ten in an effort to control her temper.
Relian sighed in her ear. “Children.”
Cal couldn’t agree more.