by Lori Devoti
The Paladin stepped back. The throne was behind him. It was as she remembered it, a simple silver chair. But it no longer intimidated her. It seemed happy—if an inanimate object showing emotion was possible—glowing with warmth.
She held out her hand and looked for guidance from inside herself. In her mind, power leapt from her palm—formed into a vine like she’d used to overpower her uncle and Anton, but this one was thicker with lush leaves and flowers dangling from its length. She didn’t direct it, just let it grow. The vine zigzagged over the elves’ bowed heads, wove its way toward the Paladin and the throne.
No one else could see the dancing vine, but Marina could, and she knew what it meant. She held her breath, afraid of what her own magic was telling her.
“Marina?” Raf touched her on the shoulder. She jerked. The vine jerked, too, paused and raised up, like a snake poised to strike.
Raf ran his fingers down her back, a soft stroke that made her tilt her head and close her eyes.
“Princess?” The Paladin prompted.
Marina ignored him. Her heart ached, as if it were tearing in two.
Raf didn’t say anything. He seemed to sense she was battling something.
“I can’t leave,” she muttered. The words hurt to say, but she forced them out. She had to face the truth. She had called the throne; it was her destiny. The vine quivered in approval.
Raf’s palm flattened against her back, warm and tempting. “You want to stay here? In Alfheim?” She could feel his frown; knew he was confused. She’d never acted as if she wanted to stay in Alfheim. It wasn’t right to spring it on him now, but she had no choice.
“What do you want, Raf? More than anything, what do you want?” she asked.
She knew what his answer would be; he’d never hidden his mission from her. Still, when he said the words it would hurt just a little.
“To find my family’s killer. To right, just a bit, the mistake I made by leaving them unguarded. And you. I want you.”
She let out a breath—not just revenge, he wanted her, too. This answer hurt even more than the one she’d expected, made what she had to do all the harder. “Me, too, but we can’t have both.” Raf had to leave. If he didn’t, the stone’s prophecy would come true—she would turn on him, betray him again.
Raf grabbed her by the shoulders and twisted her around. The vine snapped and danced over their heads. She closed her hand into a fist—cut off the power. There was a pop and the vine disappeared. The decision had been made; there was no turning back.
“What are you saying?” he asked. His gaze was intense, almost blazing. He lowered the stone to the ground.
She could feel the throne behind her, calling her. She licked her lips.
She forced herself to look at Raf to keep her gaze steady. “We can’t have both. We have to choose. We can’t undo our past mistakes and be together.” Alfheim had shown her what would happen if she walked away. Gunngar amplified a thousand fold. She couldn’t live with that.
Raf dropped his hands from her shoulders, stared at her as if she’d slapped him. Her stomach clenched. She felt his pain, but it was best this way, best he thought she was forcing him to choose. He could walk away without guilt.
“What game are you playing, Marina? I thought you wanted to leave Alfheim.”
“I can’t. I have to stay, and you have to leave.”
He dropped his hands from her shoulders. The line between his eyes deepened. “You aren’t telling me everything.” The words were flat, almost dead, but there was a flicker in his eyes—hope.
She had to crush it.
“I’m choosing the throne. I wanted it all along.” She waved at the crowd around them. “This was just build up. I had to put it off, to increase the excitement. But now, the throne’s here and I don’t need you anymore.”
He said nothing for a second, then turned. His back to her, he ran a hand through his hair. The muscles of his back bulged.
He spun back. “You are lying. I don’t know why, but you are.” He held out one hand. “Let’s leave, talk.”
She stared at his hand, wanted to slip hers into it. But as she reached out, the Paladin called. “Your sister is coming. The throne won’t wait.”
A line of cars appeared in the distance, their drivers blaring horns and screaming at the elves who jammed the roads.
Raf stared at her, then lowered his hand. “Why are you doing this?” he murmured.
She gestured to the elves surrounding them and the line of cars approaching. “I’m the princess. I’m meant to rule, not spend my life in some other world with a hellhound.”
His hands formed fists; his knuckles turned white.
The cars’ horns grew louder. A woman screamed. Marina turned and saw a man disappear under the carriage of the first vehicle. A woman threw herself at the car’s window, but the vehicle kept moving.
She was out of time.
Marina glanced back at Raf. “I’m sorry if I hurt you.” She moved and the throne did, too—appeared before her. She touched the arm.
“Marina!” Raf called, but it was too late. She was already moving forward, could already feel the throne becoming part of her. A millennia of Alfheim history flowed through her mind. She staggered under the weight of it, grasped the throne’s arms with both hands to keep from falling.
“Sit. You have to sit,” the Paladin urged and he shoved her forward. Her body twisted and she collapsed against the throne’s back. Everything went quiet for a moment, then faded. Her vision became a tunnel and she was zooming along it acquiring knowledge and experiencing things she didn’t even know existed. A weight landed on her lap; she clawed at it. Knew she had to learn something, share something. Answers bubbled out of her; she couldn’t speak fast enough. There was yelling, arguing. Someone trying to talk to her, but she pushed him away—couldn’t concentrate on anything with all the knowledge and power whirling through her brain. There was tugging and more yelling.
None of it mattered. All that mattered was learning what the throne had to say. She collapsed into it, the metal collapsing with her until it was molded to her body, cradled her. The tunnel appeared again and she was hurtled through it, faster and faster, until all she could see was light—red, blue, purple, every color imaginable whizzing past her. She gave up watching them, gave up thinking at all, gave into the power of the throne and let her mind wander…let the world around her disappear.
Chapter 23
R af lunged for Marina; his fingers wrapped around her arms and he tried to tug her from the throne, but the throne held on…seemed to have melded with her. He cursed and tried again. The Paladin appeared behind him with a sword and shoved it against his throat. “She made the choice. You can’t undo it.”
Raf ignored him. Marina’s head fell back; her eyes were open but blank.
Rage coursed through Raf. He spun on the Paladin, grabbed the small male by the throat. “What is happening to her?”
“The throne has accepted her. It’s sharing everything it knows with her.”
Raf dragged the elf towards Marina—thrust him forward until he was almost lying across her lap. “Make it stop.”
The Paladin gasped and shook his head. “No one can stop it, but she’s fine. She’ll be fine.”
Raf didn’t believe or trust him. His gaze swept over the crowd, searching for some weapon or tool he could use to separate Marina from the throne.
The Paladin held up one hand. “If you interfere, you will only increase the chaos, and I don’t know how her body would handle an abrupt separation. It might kill her.”
Raf’s fingers tightened on the elf’s shirt. He wanted to shake the male to force him to make whatever was happening to Marina stop.
“Do you want to help her?” the Paladin asked.
Raf lowered his brow. He didn’t bother with an answer, just stared at the elf until the smaller male began to squirm under the pressure of Raf’s gaze.
“If you want to help her, you’ll leave. Alfhei
m is on the brink of civil war, disaster. If she sees you, her doubts may return. If there are rumors that she…that you and she…” He glanced to the side.
Raf growled. “What?”
The elf let out a breath. “Now is not the time to try and prove your place. Alfheim isn’t ready for a ruler who…”
Raf pulled the elf close, mumbled into his face. “Loves a hellhound? Did you tell her something? Is that why she lied?”
The elf’s eyes narrowed. “There’s no reason to lie. You know how hard her job is going to be. Do you want to make it harder? If you care for her, leave, take care of what you came to Alfheim for in the first place.”
Raf glanced at Marina. She’d quit struggling, seemed to have fallen asleep. Her breathing was smooth and easy and her color was good.
The Paladin gestured to Marina. “She’s fine. Leave.”
Raf crossed his arms over his chest, assessed what was happening around them. The other elves still sat with their heads bowed. The cars that had been approaching had stopped. Ky stood outside of one, her hands wrapped around her arms and a lost expression on her face.
Seeing the direction of Raf’s gaze, the Paladin waved a hand. “It was the chaos. Now that the throne is claimed, Ky will return to the pliable child her uncle raised her to be.”
Raf let his gaze linger for a minute on the female. Perhaps her actions hadn’t been her own, but somehow he doubted she’d return to what she had been before all of this. How could she?
The elf gestured for Raf to release him. Thinking he’d seen reason, Raf loosened his hold. The Paladin took a few steps away and placed his hands on his hips. “The throne will protect her now.”
Without warning, he jerked a sword from his belt and slashed it towards Marina’s throat. Raf jumped, but the elf was too quick, too close. The blade sliced the air just above Raf’s hand. The Paladin released his hold and leaped back, but the blade kept moving.
Raf’s heart seizing in his chest, he roared and lunged. The elf danced backward, yelling and pointing toward Marina as he did. Afraid of what he would see, but unable to keep himself from looking, Raf glanced over his shoulder. The blade hung frozen in midair. It began to vibrate. A whining noise pierced the air.
Raf stepped back, confused. The Paladin smiled and gestured again. There was a snap, and another. Then the entire sword disintegrated, until a pile of metallic dust lay on the ground below Marina’s feet.
The elf drew up onto his toes. “The throne will protect her far better than you. If you truly want to help her, there’s something else you can do.”
Raf cocked a brow.
The elf reached into his jacket and pulled out a piece of paper. “I’ve discovered her parents’ killer. He’s here, hiding in the human world while he gathers forces.” He shoved a map into Raf’s hands. “Marina won’t truly be safe until her parents’ killer is captured.”
Raf glanced at the map. It was a large city in the United States that he had never visited. “Who is it? Have I met him?”
The Paladin’s gaze darkened. “Of course. It’s her uncle, Geir. He wants the throne for himself, always has. Once Marina’s parents were gone, he thought the throne would accept him. But it didn’t. It disappeared, waiting for Marina to be ready. Now that she is, now that the throne is back—Geir is determined to kill her and take it for himself.”
Raf frowned. Some of what the Paladin said made sense, but some didn’t. “Why didn’t he kill her long ago?”
The Paladin made an impatient noise in the back of his throat. “He needed her to lure the throne out of hiding.”
“And he’s in the human world? Now?” It didn’t fit. Geir hated humans.
“It’s the last place you would look for him.”
Raf stared at the paper again, then at Marina. Knowing who killed her parents…she deserved that. She could have the closure he had yet to find for himself.
Raf retrieved the stone and laid it on Marina’s lap. Then shimmered all of them, Marina, the Paladin and the throne, back to the castle.
He turned his gaze on the Paladin. “If anything happens to her—”
The Paladin raised a hand, cutting him off. “Go. If you are quick you can be done before she awakes.”
With one last unsure glance at Marina, Raf shimmered.
When Marina awakened, her hands were wrapped around the chair’s arms and her breath was coming in puffs. The stone’s box lay on her lap. She placed her hands on top, waited for the pounding doubts and questions to start. They didn’t.
Slowly, she lifted the lid. Inside lay the stone, dull gray, cold and totally unimpressive in the room’s bright light. She stared at it, hated it for showing her what it had.
She looked up, expecting Raf to still be beside her, to still be outside near the portal, but he wasn’t and she wasn’t.
She was in the palace, in the throne room and only the Paladin was with her.
She moved to stand, but the Paladin held out a hand. “Sit, adjust.”
“Where’s Raf?” she asked. Gone, she hoped. If he wasn’t…she glanced at the stone. Dread filled her. She couldn’t kill Raf…she wouldn’t…
“He left.”
She placed her hand on the stone’s rough surface, waited for relief to wash over her, but it didn’t. She felt sick and alone.
“Where did he go?” she asked.
The Paladin tensed. “He left. I don’t know why. Forget him. You are ruler now. We have to start the broadcast, to let the people know. A switch is over there.” He pointed to the wall by the door. “The broadcast runs automatically when the switch is up and you are sitting on the throne. One of your mother’s later additions after she’d hired the elf lords to bring in technology.” He glanced at her as if expecting a comment, but she had none. He nodded, pleased. “I just need to check something. Then we will start.”
Marina watched him leave. So, that was it. Raf was gone and she was the ruler of Alfheim. Nothing left but to tell the citizens. Everything was as it should be. The throne should be happy.
She should be happy.
But she wasn’t. She wasn’t at all.
Raf stood outside the address the guard had given him. It wasn’t what he’d expected—it wasn’t a ritzy mansion or a sexy high rise. It wasn’t the opposite, either…a sleazy bar or unoccupied warehouse (Raf’s personal choice when hiding in the human world).
It was a nice, middle-class human home—brick with a two car garage, a swing set in the front and a minivan in the drive.
Raf stepped onto the concrete sidewalk that lead to the front door.
Had the guard made a mistake?
If so what other mistakes, might the elf have made?
Marina. Was she safe?
Just thinking her name, made Raf want to shimmer back to her. He took a step, let the first tingles of his shimmer begin.
A scream cut him off. His gaze darted to the house.
A woman was standing by the front window, her mouth open and her eyes huge. A dark arm shot into view and she fell out of sight.
With a growl, Raf let his shimmer take over—but his destination changed. He pointed himself to right behind that arm, to the back of whoever had just struck the woman.
Marina was glad to be alone. She needed time to adjust, to force her mind away from Raf, where he was and what he thought of her. He’d believed her lies or he wouldn’t have left.
That hurt. Which wasn’t fair. She’d meant for him to believe, but deep inside she’d hoped he wouldn’t, that the two of them had been through enough he’d see through her deception.
But he hadn’t and it was for the best.
She forced her spine to relax against the throne, forced her mind to relax, too. To her surprise, the second was easy. Her eyes drifted shut and her mind opened.
Images and thoughts flooded through her. She was standing in the tower, but she wasn’t herself, she was her mother. The stone that had been resting on her lap was in her hands and her father stood beside her. The Pa
ladin was there, too.
Something inside her tensed, but she didn’t try to leave. She wanted to see what was in the stone.
The stone glowed green, the color almost blinding. Her father murmured something she couldn’t understand. Then, “Are you sure? What do we do? Do we tell anyone? Is Alfheim ready?”
Her mother spoke, her voice seeming to come from Marina. “It’s years and years away. The stone can’t be wrong. By then Alfheim will be ready. We will make them ready.”
“And Marina?” Her father again.
“She will be part of it—the biggest change Alfheim has ever seen.”
“No!” The Paladin stepped forward and knocked the stone from her mother’s hands. Marina watched it fall, desperate to see inside it as it tumbled. It landed hard, made a clattering noise as it rolled across the floor. “This is not the future of Alfheim. It can’t be. We can’t let it be.”
Her parents looked at each other, their faces cautious. “It will work out. The stone, like the throne, knows best.”
The Paladin shook his head. “Your daughter yes, but the other—That can never happen.” He turned and strode from the room.
Marina’s father bent and scooped up the stone, held it out so Marina, through her mother’s eyes, could see inside.
Framed by the stone’s green glow was an image of Marina sitting on the throne, but she wasn’t alone, sitting beside her—holding the stone was Raf.
“A hellhound, a ruler of Alfheim. Who would have predicted it?” her father muttered.
Her mother sighed and took the stone. “Neither of us, but we’ll do our part. We know our direction now. It is time for Alfheim to change, to grow—to accept other beings as we never have before.”
Her father grasped her mother’s hand. “We can do it.”
“And if we can’t, our daughter can.” Marina’s mother slipped her arm around her husband’s waist and the two walked from the room.
The image faded. Marina looked up.
The Paladin stood staring at her.
