by Tara Grayce
A few more physicians and elven healers fled past, loaded down with stretchers. Trying to save the wounded too injured to flee on their own.
Essie and Jalissa just needed to buy some time for the others to get to safety. Once the attack at the rear was reported, reinforcements would come, probably with Weylind and Averett leading the charge.
Would they come in time?
Essie banished all such thoughts from her head and focused on another target. She needed to get off as many shots as she could before the trolls got too close for her gun to make a difference.
She fired three shots before she had to pause and reload. With the gloves making her fingers thick and the snow blasting her with cold, she fumbled with the cartridges. Too long. This was taking too long.
The trolls rushed forward. Muskets and repeating rifles fired next to Essie, but only a portion of the shots struck targets. The rest were deflected with troll magic or missed altogether. Jalissa and the elves rained down arrows, but many were blown off course by the howling wind.
A few of the trolls paused long enough to raise their own repeating rifles. One of the soldiers not far from Essie cried out. She gritted her teeth. It was the most painful of ironies that her soldiers were being killed by Escarland’s own weapons.
She finally managed to shove the last cartridge into the gun. She levered the bolt to chamber the first round, raised, and fired. The trolls were close enough now she hardly had to aim.
Should she give the order to retreat? Did they even have enough men to make a defensive retreat? If they simply fled, the trolls would cut them down as they ran. More soldiers tended to be killed during panicked retreats than were killed in the actual battles.
No more time. The trolls were too close.
She reached for the heart bond, thankful Farrendel wasn’t blocking her. She wasn’t sure how to communicate goodbye to him. Was this goodbye? After all she had done to try to get him back, she certainly hadn’t planned on dying in the snow during a night ambush before ever reaching Gror Grar.
Farrendel’s concern flooded through her, along with the growing crackle in the heart bond that felt a lot like his magic.
I wish you were here. I wish you could unleash a wave of power to blast them back. Essie raised the rifle again for one last shot before the trolls reached them. This was all too much like those last moments of that ambush, when she had glanced at Farrendel, thinking she was going to die. She tried to will that same feeling she’d had, meeting his gaze then, through the heart bond to him now. She found herself reaching for that simmer of power, as if in a desperate attempt to draw on it.
The crackle built, humming in her ears. The warmth of the heart bond filled her chest. No, not just the heart bond. She gasped, struggling to breathe past the power filling her.
Some instinct, or perhaps it was a nudge through the heart bond, made her drop her rifle and raise her hands, as if warding off the oncoming trolls.
Sizzling blue power blazed in front of her before blasting outward, hurling the trolls several yards backwards.
Essie gaped at her hands. That had been Farrendel’s magic. Had she done that? Or had he done it through her? How had he managed to decipher the impressions she’d sent him enough to guess what she needed?
“What was that?” Jalissa gripped Essie’s shoulder, staring down at her with wide eyes. “Was that...”
“I don’t know.” Essie fumbled to pick up her rifle, then dropped it again. She wasn’t sure what she should be doing with her hands. Raise them for another blast of magic? Start firing her rifle again?
The sense of a question came from Farrendel. Asking if she was all right? Or if she needed more power?
Yes. Maybe. She didn’t know. How did she even go about telling him what she needed?
A few of the trolls had clambered to their feet. One raised a rifle, aiming it straight at Essie. Even with the yards separating them, that black muzzle gaped round and deadly, about to spew its lethal projectile.
Essie flung out a hand in the direction of the troll, squeezing her eyes shut as if that would make him disappear or miss or make the bullet hurt less as it tore through her chest. She tugged on the crackle in the heart bond. Farrendel!
Another crackle of magic built in her chest before exploding outward with jarring force. Essie gritted her teeth at the sulfuric sizzle that filled the air. Her scalp and arms prickled as if all of her hair was attempting to stand on end beneath her hat and coat.
A bolt of blue magic plowed into the troll, cutting through him and the troll behind him before blasting into a wave of energy that knocked the few trolls that had regained their feet back to the snow.
She wasn’t in control of this magic. The thought tightened her chest, her breathing coming in gasps. How did she stop it? Control it? She sensed the well of power that magic had come from, and the sheer vastness made her stomach heave.
Was this what Farrendel sensed when he unleashed his magic? No wonder he used as little of his magic as possible, as if he feared what would happen if he lost control over it.
And she didn’t even have his level of control over this power. Somehow, Farrendel was channeling his magic through her. He wouldn’t know what the battle looked like or what was truly needed.
Boots crunched on the snow behind her. She didn’t have the strength to turn to look.
But she didn’t have to. She recognized the voice shouting orders. Averett.
Another question from Farrendel.
No, no. Make it stop. Please. Too much.
She wasn’t sure how much of that he understood. Her mental voice was screechy with panic even to herself.
The crackle cut off instantly. The normal warmth of the heart bond returned, filled with worry.
Essie wanted to vomit. Or perhaps curl in the snow and pass out. Her head still buzzed, though that could be from her hyperventilating instead of all the magic that had poured through.
She forced herself to draw in a deep breath, then let it out slowly. Her head cleared, the cold air steadying her.
The worried impression from Farrendel had grown even more pronounced.
I’m fine. She tried to relax and send the relief of being alive to him instead of the panic of having magic unexpectedly blast from her hands. She glanced up to the fighting in front of them. Averett’s soldiers and Weylind’s warriors had pushed the trolls back, and it looked like the trolls were retreating, fading back into the snow and the mountains. I’m safe. Well, for now.
Farrendel relaxed, though some of the crackle of his magic still simmered in the heart bond.
Thank you. Essie wasn’t sure he would sense it. Even locked in the trolls’ dungeon, he had managed to save her.
Except, they had never done something like this before. How could he possibly wield his magic through her? Did she perhaps partially draw on the magic through the heart bond? That heart bond magic was half hers, after all, in some shape or form. Farrendel might be the one with magic, but it took two people to form a heart bond. He couldn’t have done it on his own any more than she could have.
The bigger question was, could she wield his magic again?
And did she want to?
If she could, then this could be the tipping point in pushing the trolls back to Gror Grar. But that would mean she would have to fight like Farrendel. On the front lines. Causing bloodshed.
It went against her nature. She wasn’t a warrior. She didn’t want to become one. Perhaps she was willing to take up a gun when backed into a corner. Or to fight her way to Farrendel to rescue him.
But to fight like her brothers did?
The noise of battle ahead of them died away. A figure dashed toward them through the snow. When he sank to his knees in front of Essie, it wasn’t any of her brothers, but Farrendel’s.
Snow coated Weylind’s long hair, though he wore a fur hat to keep his head and ears warm. His dark eyes searched Essie’s face. “Was that Farrendel’s magic I saw as we were running here? It felt
like his.”
“Yes, it was.” Essie shivered at another blast of the icy wind. Now that the power of Farrendel’s magic had faded, she became aware of the cold once again. Over Weylind’s shoulder, she spotted Averett trotting toward her. “But maybe let’s discuss it somewhere warm?”
Weylind rose to his feet. “Very well. Come.”
Jalissa gripped her bow and tromped through the snow after Weylind.
Averett halted in front of Essie and held out a hand. “Was that what I thought it was?”
“Yes, it was, and no, I have no idea how it was possible.” Essie took Averett’s hand and let him pull her to her feet.
Soon, she found herself crawling through the narrow door into her brothers’ shelter, this one much larger than the one Jalissa had grown for her and Essie as it also served as the command center.
Inside, she counted four bedrolls, not just three. Perhaps Weylind really had moved into here with her brothers for warmth. Or maybe there just wasn’t enough scrub brush to make two shelters.
Weylind already sat on one of the bedrolls, the one set the farthest from the other three. Jalissa lowered herself onto the bedroll next to him.
Essie sat on one of the other bedrolls. This explanation would have been so much easier if she knew exactly what Farrendel had done on his side of things. As of right now, her explanation boiled down to a big I don’t know that probably wasn’t going to satisfy anyone.
A few seconds later, Averett crawled inside, brushing snow from his shoulders. “I sent for Edmund and Julien.”
Good. She would be able to give her non-explanation to all of them at once.
Averett settled onto the blanket next to her. “I should have asked earlier. Are you all right?”
“Yes, I’m fine. Not a scratch.” Essie wrapped her arms around her stomach. The panic of so much magic coursing through her was fading, leaving her muscles aching and her eyes heavy. Though, the exhaustion could be because it was the middle of the night, and she hadn’t been sleeping even before the nighttime raid.
He wrapped an arm around her, and she leaned against his shoulder. It would have been far nicer to lean against Farrendel’s shoulder. But before Farrendel, her brothers had been her shoulders to lean against and cry on. That didn’t change, even though she was married.
“You don’t sound fine.” Averett’s arm around her tightened.
“Just tired.” Essie sighed. It was warm, leaning against him. “Maybe we should bunk with all of you. It would be safer. And warmer.”
“You snore.”
“I do not. I breathe loudly.” She tried to keep her tone light, but it was hard, remembering that same teasing argument with Farrendel. Farrendel, at least, had a leg to stand on. He slept as silently as a rock as long as he wasn’t having a nightmare. Essie’s brothers, though, were just as noisy as she was. “It’s not like any of you sleep silently either.”
Across the way, Weylind glanced at them and gave a tiny huff. It was the elf equivalent of an eyeroll. If he had been camping in here with all three of Essie’s brothers, then he would have been subjected to the full force of Averett’s nighttime lip smacking, Julien’s snoring, and Edmund’s...well, Edmund was mostly silent, except for when he talked in his sleep.
The cold swirl of snow blowing through the opening to the shelter made Essie peel her eyes open as Julien and Edmund crawled inside. The tent canvas fell back over the opening, keeping out the rest of the howling wind.
“What’s this I hear about a family meeting?” Julien glanced around before sinking onto the bedroll closest to the door. “A full, both families meeting, I see.”
“What happened?” Edmund jabbed a thumb over his shoulder. “Besides the sneak attack to our rear lines. If this was only about that attack, then I would expect we would be having this meeting with the generals. They weren’t too happy to be put off.”
“This is important.” Averett glanced from Edmund to Weylind across the shelter before peering down at Essie. “You’d better explain. I just caught a glimpse of it.”
“A glimpse of what?” Julien’s frown deepened as he glanced from Jalissa and Weylind to Essie, as if guessing this had something to do with elves.
Where did she even begin to explain? With the blast of power?
No, she should go back farther than that. She couldn’t leave anything out. Maybe, if she gave as much information as possible, Weylind would be more forthcoming instead of mysterious with any conclusions he came to.
“For the past few days, I’ve felt a...crackle to the heart bond. Like Farrendel’s magic.” Essie sat up straighter. It seemed more appropriate to sit properly instead of slumped against Averett when giving a report.
“And you didn’t mention anything?” Averett pulled back and turned to her.
“We were all a little busy planning for war and invading Kostaria and fighting for our lives through this blizzard. Besides, I wasn’t even sure that feeling was unusual. It isn’t like anyone handed me an instruction manual on heart bonds.” She resisted the urge to glare at Weylind and Jalissa. This all would make so much more sense if elves weren’t so tight-lipped about their magic. “All this reaching for Farrendel through the heart bond has made me more sensitive to it. I thought I was just sensing his magic in him, nothing more.”
Across the shelter, Weylind was frowning, but he didn’t deign to comment. Jalissa met Essie’s gaze and just shrugged. As Jalissa had never been married and experienced a heart bond herself, she probably didn’t have anything but stories to add.
Did Weylind have a heart bond with his wife Rheva? No one had said anything one way or the other. But as their cryptic grandmother Leyleira had mentioned, elves didn’t talk about personal matters like heart bonds unless forced to. Or if that heart bond reached legendary status. Then they had no problem talking about it.
“Then, tonight, when those trolls attacked, Jalissa and I were rallying the defenders and trying to give the healers and wounded time to escape. Things looked desperate for a moment there, and it reminded me of the ambush outside of Lethorel. I reached for the heart bond, for Farrendel. I’m guessing Farrendel sensed enough through the heart bond to know I was in trouble.” Essie shrugged and waved her hands in front of her. “Next thing I know, his magic is blasting from me. I’m not sure if it was him or me or both or how he even deciphered enough through the heart bond to figure out what I needed. Communication is hardly precise.”
Averett faced King Weylind. “Do you have any thoughts on how such...magic-sharing is possible? It won’t hurt Essie, will it?”
“I am unaware of such a thing happening before, though I suppose it is not out of the realm of possibility.” Weylind cleared his throat and glanced at the ceiling of their shelter.
Essie glared at him. “What does that even mean? And no cryptic answers this time. I don’t care if it is a sarcastic answer you would give to a two-year-old as long as it’s understandable to magicless humans.”
Weylind raised that eyebrow at her again.
Essie planted her fists on her hips. The gesture lost something since she was sitting down, and she managed to elbow Averett in the ribs. “Come on. Spit it out. This isn’t the time for your elven sense of propriety.”
Weylind’s shoulders lifted in the restrained, elven shrug. “As I said, I have never heard of those with an elishina sharing magic like this before. But there is much even we elves do not know about elishinas. And an elishina between a human and an elf with Farrendel’s magic is bound to be more unpredictable than most.”
That wasn’t much more helpful than his first comment, but at least Weylind was trying. Somewhat.
“I guess it makes sense. I mean, if we’re sharing enough life essence or magic or whatever for me to keep his heart beating while he’s grievously wounded and for him to extend my life by several centuries, that’s already a lot of sharing going on. What’s a little magic on top of all that?” Essie leaned her elbows on her knees. Now that she thought about it, she wondered
why she hadn’t thought of it before. Perhaps because it would have sounded crazy, if she hadn’t already done it.
“Most of the time in an elishina, both already have magic and have no need to reach for each other’s magic.” Weylind gestured to her. “But in your case, you do not have magic while Farrendel...”
“Farrendel has enough magic for both of us.” She probably hadn’t needed to say it out loud. Everyone there had to be thinking it.
“Indeed.” Weylind glanced around the shelter, at Essie’s brothers listening but not interrupting, before he focused back on her. Some twist to his mouth or hitch in his breathing suggested he was struggling to find words. But at least he was trying to accommodate her by being more forthcoming. “Each elishina is as unique as the individuals bonded by it. No one can predict exactly how it will manifest. It is known elishinas can be strengthened through ordeals, especially when the elishina is still new.”
So being young and in love made the elishina do such crazy things that even the elves didn’t dare predict what could happen? That was...comforting.
“But that doesn’t answer my question.” Averett pointed at Essie. “Will it hurt her?”
“If Farrendel’s magic was going to hurt her, it would have done it while surging through her.” Weylind’s voice was back to matter of fact.
Essie nearly snorted. So reassuring to know how worried her brother-in-law was about her.
“Guess that answers the question of whether I’m immune to his magic.” Accidentally wielding his magic against charging trolls probably wasn’t easier—and definitely not safer—than sticking her hand into his magic to test it, but at least she knew.
“There’s one big question no one has thought to ask yet.” Edmund broke into the conversation, glancing to Essie before focusing on Weylind. “How does Farrendel have the ability to use his magic? I thought the whole reason he was captured was that the trolls had a way to block his magic. If he can use his magic, does that mean he has escaped somehow? I think that would be rather important information to know before we march to Gror Grar.”
Right. Essie had told her brothers some of what she could sense through the heart bond, but she hadn’t shared all of what she suspected.
