Forever

by Pati Nagle

  Finally Len got up and started clearing away plates. I offered to help, and Lomen helped carry the dishes and the leftovers to the kitchen. Len put on a kettle for tea and asked me if I wanted coffee.

  “No, tea’s fine.”

  She smiled. “You’re getting acclimated.”

  “Less caffeine. I’d like to get a good night’s sleep. So quiet out here.”

  “Yeah. You’ll sleep well.”

  She gave me and Lomen bowls of nuts and fruit to take back to the greatroom. Savhoran and Pirian had joined the table, which caught me off guard. I snuck a look at Pirian while I set a bowl of fruit in front of Madóran.

  He looked less haggard; merely unwell. The anger that I'd felt toward him earlier had changed to confusion. Had he really saved Manda's life?

  Savhoran was sitting across the table from him, with a glass of wine in front of him, listening to Caeran with a serious expression.

  “The most important thing is that we all work together,” Caeran was saying. “To that end, we will have one Evennight ceremony. Clan Greystone will stand on one side of the circle, and Clan Ebonwatch on the other.”

  That produced an unbalanced image in my mind, one that smacked of segregation. It probably wouldn’t look that bad; Greystone would be more like three quarters of the circle to Ebonwatch’s quarter, and I would be in there somewhere. Maybe I could be a buffer, like a no-man’s land.

  I slid back into my chair, catching Lomen’s eye as I did so. “That way maybe Mirali will feel comfortable attending,” I added.

  Savhoran shot a sharp glance at me. I couldn’t see Pirian’s face.

  “We will have the ceremony after sunset, so that Ebonwatch may be present. Afterward, Savhoran and Amanda will make their cup-bonding vow.”

  I looked at Manda, whose cheeks were a little flushed. I wondered if it was too late to come up with some kind of gift for her. After all, I basically owed my connection with Lomen to her.

  “And after the cup-bonding,” Caeran said, “I propose we formally admit Steven to Clan Greystone.”

  My heart gave a thump of surprise. Caeran was smiling at me, looking amused.

  “Oh—ah, wow. I’m honored,” I said.

  “You have already contributed much to the clan.”

  I ought to be thrilled. Instead I felt hesitant. Lomen tilted his head, watching me. I took a swallow of wine and shielded.

  I needed to think about it. It was a huge honor, yes—and I needed to be sure I felt right accepting it.

  “I’m not exactly sure what that means,” I said. “Are there duties that go along with being a clan member?”

  “Keep the creed, be loyal to the clan,” said Faranin.

  “I don’t even know the creed. I mean, I know a little about it, but not everything.”

  Len came in with a tea tray. She poured some for me, steam rising from the mug. I decided to let it cool a bit, and sipped some more wine.

  “You make a good point,” Madóran said. “Although the creed really applies to the ælven more than to humankind.”

  “There’s no reason humans can’t keep the creed,” Len said. “I swore to do it when you brought me into the clan.”

  “But you had studied it, Len. Steven has not. Perhaps we should ask him to learn the creed, with the object of abiding by it.”

  “It that fair?” Lomen said. “It is asking him to promise in the future to abide by a rule he does not understand.”

  My hero. I gazed at Lomen, wishing I could hug him right then.

  “We have no intention of making unreasonable demands,” Caeran said.

  “I do want to learn the creed,” I said. “But I don’t want to make an uninformed promise.”

  “No one asks that of you,” Madóran said.

  A thought was forming in my brain. I drank some more wine, swishing it around.

  “The creed is the difference between the ælven and the alben,” I mused, half to myself.

  “I would say, rather, that the creed is the difference between Clan Ebonwatch and the alben,” Caeran said.

  I looked at Savhoran, seated at the opposite corner to me. He sat erect, his hands folded around the base of his wine glass, which was still full. Easy to forget how hard his life was, and that it had only recently become so.

  I suddenly understood what had been bothering me.

  “I’m really honored to be invited,” I said, looking at Caeran, “but I wonder if it might be more appropriate for me to join Clan Ebonwatch.”

  = 18 =

  All the ælven looked shocked, except for Lomen, who turned a sudden chortle to a cough. His eyes glinted glee at me for an instant before he looked away.

  Savhoran gazed at me in disbelief. “Why would you want to join Ebonwatch?”

  “He cannot join Ebonwatch,” said Faranin. “Ebonwatch’s duty is to guard against the alben. He has not the strength to oppose them.” He looked at me. “Forgive me, but it is so.”

  “That is Ebonwatch’s traditional duty,” said Madóran, “but this is a new embodiment of the clan. Guarding against the alben need not be its sole purpose.”

  I nodded; he seemed to understand where I was going. I took a pear from a bowl and rolled it around in my hands.

  “See, I keep thinking about what we want to do—figure out this disease and cure it. That’s what I signed on for, with Ebonwatch, the company. But that could apply to the clan, too. Ultimately, it’s for Clan Ebonwatch that we want to beat this thing.”

  They were all silent. Either I’d said something profound, or something really stupid.

  “And for all those who would otherwise be doomed to Ebonwatch’s fate,” said Bironan quietly.

  Manda gave me a look of burning excitement, then stood and picked up her wine. “I want to join Ebonwatch, too.”

  She walked down the table to sit next to Savhoran. He looked at her, and even though he was facing away from me I could practically feel the love radiating from him.

  “Well,” Caeran said, “I see no reason why our mortal friends cannot join Ebonwatch if they wish. Savhoran, do you have any objection?”

  Savhoran was beaming like a kid who’d been given a new toy. “None. They would be welcome.” He tore his gaze away from Manda and looked at me. “But Ebonwatch is strict in following the creed; we must be. If you are unwilling to commit to that...”

  “I’m willing to commit to learning the creed, and to following what I understand of it so far. If I run into something I can’t handle, I’ll discuss it with you, and either we’ll reach a compromise or I’ll withdraw.”

  Savhoran nodded. “That is reasonable.”

  “Very well,” Caeran said. “Then I propose a slight change. Before the cup-bonding, Amanda and Steven will be formally admitted to Clan Ebonwatch.”

  So that Mirali would see our support for those stricken with the curse. Subtle, Caeran.

  Maybe it would make an impression on her. Even if it didn’t, it was a statement I wanted to make. I was in this for all of the ælven, for their ultimate survival. Conquering koilohemia was the first step.

  I felt Lomen’s touch and looked at him. Gently, he took the pear from my hands and cut it in half with his knife, offering half to me. We shared it silently, and for some reason that made me incredibly horny. His eyes, dark green in the candlelight, were filled with a soft warmth.

  Madóran looked at Len. “How is your translation of the creed progressing? Have you had time to work on it?”

  “A little,” she said. “I have questions about a couple of things.”

  She said something in ælven and they started discussing the subtleties of its meaning. Faranin put in his opinion. I stopped listening; I would read Len’s work when it was done.

  I finished my wine and sipped my tea. Savhoran and Manda slipped away together; the others were deep in discussion.

  Caeran asked Lomen a question, drawing him in. Unable to contribute, I got up and went to the kiva fireplace in the far corner of the room.

&n
bsp; The fire had burned down to just coals, glowing orange in the little cave-like space. I sat on the banco, took a small log of piñon from the bin and propped it over the coals, watching new flames sprout to lick at its edges.

  So you would be my clan-brother.

  I winced at the prickling that came with Pirian’s thought-touch and the memory of horror it brought. Turning, I saw him just a couple of steps away. My skin crawled and my breathing shortened, but I kept myself together.

  Why does your khi feel like that?

  He grimaced.

  The curse. It mars the khi. Did they not tell you that?

  Not in so many words.

  I suppressed a shudder. The prickling sensation was so much like the female alben’s khi that I had trouble thinking straight.

  A wry smile twisted Pirian’s lips, and I sensed an echo of contempt. He must just love the idea of having humans as clan-kin. His opinion of us was perhaps slightly higher than Mirali’s.

  That was an improvement over what it had been when I’d first met him, I realized. I remembered the crack he’d made about my being a pet.

  Pirian’s eyes narrowed.

  That was unkind of me. I apologize.

  I gaped at him. Apologize? To me?

  Madóran assures me that I owe you my life. I am grateful, however unpleasant you find my company.

  Or you ours.

  A flash of amusement crossed his face. Indeed. I confess I am still mystified as to why Greystone is so interested in you humans. I must assume something—the promise of a cure for the curse, perhaps—has clouded their judgment.

  We will find a cure.

  A shadow flicked through his eyes—doubt? Hope, quickly suppressed?

  It’s not just a game, Pirian. Len is devoting her life to this. She’s brilliant, in case you hadn’t noticed. She deserves your respect.

  She has it. She, too, kept me alive.

  Movement behind him caught my eye—Lomen, coming toward us. I looked back at Pirian.

  Yes, we’ll be clan-brothers. You’re better off with Clan Ebonwatch.

  Am I?

  If you hadn’t joined Ebonwatch, and you’d met those two alben on your own, would you have taken them up on their offer of entertainment?

  His nostrils flared and his face went grim. Lomen took a step closer. I glanced at him and gave my head a tiny shake, then looked back at Pirian.

  Amanda says you saved her life. Is that true?

  It was inadvertent. I do not deserve credit for it.

  What happened?

  Kanna was holding her. Fool that I was, I sought Kanna out to reason with her. Our—discussion—gave Amanda the opportunity to escape.

  I stared at him, absorbing that. Why had he declined to take the credit? I was seeing a side of him I hadn’t glimpsed before.

  Where did you find Poppy?

  I braced myself for an answer I probably wouldn’t like. Something softened in Pirian’s face.

  They had already chosen her when I joined them. I had no idea she was known to you.

  Would that have mattered?

  Probably not.

  At least he was honest.

  His head turned slightly and he glanced toward Lomen, then looked back at me. Your friend awaits you.

  Pirian turned away, heading for the door to the north portal. The uncomfortable contact faded and I breathed a sigh of relief.

  What was that about?

  Lomen’s touch was like cool water on a sunburn. I closed my eyes.

  Just getting better acquainted.

  I sensed his skepticism, but I was still a little freaked out. Felt like I’d been fencing for half an hour.

  Lomen came and sat beside me by the fire. I basked in his khi, grateful for how wonderful it felt. I’d explain—or share—later. Right now I just needed the comfort of his touch.

  The ælven remaining at the table got up. Faranin and Bironan followed Pirian outside, and Len and Caeran came over to say good night.

  I sat up straighter and looked at Caeran. “I hope you don’t mind my turning down your offer. I really am honored by it.”

  “No, I think you have made a wise choice,” he said, smiling. “Ebonwatch will be stronger for your presence.”

  “Well, I hope so.”

  They went out, leaving me and Lomen alone with Madóran. He joined us by the fire, sitting on the couch that faced the fireplace, and for a moment we sat together in silence. Madóran gazed at me, smiling.

  Shall we try your experiment?

  My mouth went dry with sudden desire. His khi and Lomen’s both at once; it set me on fire.

  What I wanted to try was how comfortable we might be on the couch, but I ignored that thought. Madóran was watching me, waiting.

  Lomen, are you willing to try talking with us both?

  Sure.

  Are you talking with Lomen?

  Yes. I looked from Madóran to Lomen. Can you both hear me?

  Lomen nodded. Madóran looked at him, a slight frown of concentration on his brow.

  I hear you, and I sense a connection...does Lomen hear me?

  I looked at Lomen. Anything?

  Is Madóran talking to you? I felt something, but did not hear.

  I stifled a sigh. I guess it doesn’t work.

  No, there is definitely a connection. Madóran gazed intently at Lomen. I believe it is something we could build upon.

  Madóran took Lomen’s hand, which sent a zing of jealousy and desire through me. After a moment, he reached for my hand as well. I clasped his, and the desire intensified while the jealousy faded. Lomen took my other hand, closing the circle.

  The air was tingling, and I thought I could actually feel khi flowing through our hands. So intense; I just sat there, awash in awareness of both of them.

  This merits further practice. I believe you have given us a start, Steven.

  He said something, didn’t he? I could feel it.

  Yes.

  If we two could learn to speak together...

  The hope in Madóran’s thoughts was almost painfully intense. It surprised me; he was such a gentle soul. He wanted this so strongly.

  Well, of course. To share the intimacy of mindspeech with another ælven; Lomen had said it was rare. If they could accomplish it, they’d have that special gift forever.

  They’d have it after I was gone.

  I put that thought aside, quite deliberately. No mooning over my mortality; that was useless. I’d treasure what I had, for as long as I had it. If I was lucky, I’d spend the rest of my life with the ælven.

  Madóran turned to me, smiling with delight.

  Thank you, Steven.

  Entirely my pleasure.

  His gaze shifted to Lomen. Speaking of pleasure...

  A deep tingle went through me and settled in my groin. Oh, god.

  Madóran released our hands, but the connection remained. We all stood. Abandoning the table mess for later, we went out to the plazuela and across it to Madóran’s room.

  It was a beautiful room, was my fleeting impression. The bed was large and comfortable, and I can’t begin to describe what we did there, because it was so much more than physical. I think that night changed me forever.

  I woke the next morning, alone in the bed but not lonely. Twin threads of awareness connected me with Lomen and Madóran. They were not nearby; out in the house somewhere.

  I stretched, luxuriating, taking time to observe the room and the furnishings. All of it was lovely; most if not all was Madóran’s work. There was plenty of carved and polished wood, both furniture and artwork. Lush fabrics of deep blue and green covered the windows and the bed. I was still lying there soaking in the atmosphere when the door opened.

  Lomen came in, bringing me a mug of tea and a bowl of plain yogurt with sliced pears. Perfect.

  Everyone spent that week preparing for Evennight. The ceremony might be simple—they all told me that it was—but the feast was apparently going to be elaborate. Madóran sent a written n
ote to Mirali and her family, formally inviting them to supper followed by the ceremony. She sent back a note of acceptance, for which I quietly cheered.

  The kitchen was the center of activity. I wandered in and out, chopping things when told to, generally trying to stay out of the way except when I was hungry. There was always something good to eat when I went looking.

  When I wasn’t helping with the food, I studied. Caught up on all the homework I could do outside of the lab. Read ahead in the textbooks, and got started reading the molecular biology book I’d checked out.

  I found it fascinating. Whenever I read about what could be done on a molecular level to fight disease, a glow of excitement lit in me.

  At Madóran’s request, I spoke with him and with Lomen in mindspeech whenever possible. Part of his plan for building a connection between him and Lomen.

  Lomen, Bironan, and Faranin decorated the plazuela for the ceremony. I didn’t offer to help, because I suspected I’d just get in their way. They installed colored banners on tall poles at the four sides of the plazuela—yellow to the east, red to the south, blue to the west and green to the north—and strung wires of hanging lanterns between them. They moved the patio furniture to the portal, and on the afternoon of the feast day they poured dried herbs and flower petals in a big circle around the fountain.

  I watched them through the kitchen window, open to let out the heat from all the cooking. I was at the small table chopping vegetables for a dish that was part of the feast. The smell of a turkey roasting in the oven was driving me crazy. Earlier, Madóran had baked bread, and I’d had a hard time keeping my hands off those golden loaves as they cooled.

  I finished my chopping and carried the cutting board full of veggies to Madóran, who was at the stove. He frowned as I presented my work to him.

  I think we’ll need a few more carrots. Would you mind pulling some from the garden?

  Glad to. Four? Eight?

  Six. Thank you.

  I went down the hall and out through the utility room. Didn’t bother with the hat; I wouldn’t be outside long.

  It was mid-afternoon and the soil was warm from the day’s sun; the rich smell of it rose to greet me. A cool breeze reminded me that it was fall. I knelt by the carrot bed and coaxed a half-dozen of them from the ground without breaking any of the tops.