Lyr chuckled. “You would be surprised. As a rule, most elves are not as formal with family and close friends, but Kai goes beyond most. I think he spends so much time being diplomatic with others that he has none left for us.”
“Speaking of Kai—”
A knock interrupted her before she could finish the question she had come to ask. Arlyn wanted to scream in frustration, but the delay was her own fault. She should have asked about the soulbond as soon as she entered. While she berated herself, Lyr rose, bidding the person to enter. Arlyn stepped back, almost falling into a bookcase, as her father moved in front of his desk. Should she leave? Lyr’s neutral expression gave her no hint.
Before she could decide, a slightly familiar elf with long, blond hair and full leather armor, except for the helm, strode in. Judging from the armor and the small arsenal of knives and swords he wore, Arlyn guessed he must be one of the warriors Lyr had mentioned. She frowned. What did they make all of those weapons out of, if not steel? Before she could think to ask Lyr, the elf stopped several feet from the desk, tapped his chest twice with his right fist, and bowed to her father.
He stood that way, head bent down, until Lyr spoke. “Good morn to you, Belore Norin. How do you fare this day?”
“I am well, Myern. I trust you and your family are the same.”
“Indeed, all but one.” Lyr inclined his head. “You may relax, Norin.”
As the warrior shifted to a more casual stance, Arlyn noticed the small bundle he held in his left hand. It was a bloody bit of cloth wrapped around a small knife. Was that the blade that had injured Kai? It had to be. She recognized the man, then, as one of those who had gone with them into the forest the night before. Had her father not noticed the knife? He seemed so relaxed.
Fingers twisting wrinkles in her gown, Arlyn stepped forward. “Lyr.”
The surprised glance of the soldier warned her she had probably just interrupted something she should not have. But damn, they were exchanging pleasantries while the warrior held Kai’s blood in his hands. Unsure what to do, she turned to her father. His eyes held either exasperation, amusement, or both, but it was difficult to tell. Lyr’s expression was more guarded than she had seen it since their first meeting on the forest path the day before.
With barely a pause, Lyr gestured for her to approach. “I must beg your forgiveness, Belore Norin. The lady Arlyn is not accustomed to our ways and meant no offense. I would offer introduction so you might be made comfortable.”
Arlyn blinked, stunned. She had never heard Lyr speak like that.
“Certainly.” The other elf nodded.
“Honored Captain, I present to you Callian Ayala i Arlyn Dianore se Kaienan nai Braelyn. Lady Arlyn, I present to you Callian iy’dianore Belore i Norin Tialt nai Braelyn.”
Had Kai’s name entered her title? She wanted to ask, but first, she needed to respond to the warrior, a daunting task since she had no idea what most of his title even meant. There was the branch name, Callian, but then she was lost. Arlyn bit back a groan. How had her father addressed the other elf when greeting him? As she tried frantically to recall, the warrior turned to her and repeated the chest tap and bow he had done earlier.
If the elf was surprised by her presence, Arlyn couldn’t tell it from his neutral expression. “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Ayala Arlyn, honored daughter of the Dianore line. May good health be yours for many happy centuries.”
“It is a pleasure to meet you, too, Belore Norin.” Thank all the gods everywhere she had actually remembered what Lyr had called the warrior. “May you remain safe in the hands of the gods through many victories.” Out of the corner of her eye, Arlyn caught her father’s slight smile. “Please excuse me for my interruption. I’m just concerned about Kai.”
“Of course, Ayala.” The warrior nodded politely, though she was certain he did not understand the situation. It had to seem strange to him that Lyr suddenly had a grown daughter, a complete stranger, who was so worried about Kai. Someone the warrior had likely known for several centuries.
Arlyn jumped at Lyr’s laugh. “Come, Norin, let us abandon such formality now that basic politeness has been met. It is difficult to maintain with you, considering you taught me to hold a sword. And I’m sure you are bursting with curiosity.”
With a grin, Norin relaxed. “That I am. I saw her earlier, of course, but I had no time to consider who she might be. Where have you been hiding a daughter all this time? And when did she become mated to Kai?”
Mated? So the necklace exchange had been some form of wedding. Shouldn’t she have to agree to be someone’s mate? Just as she stiffened in anger, a sound somewhere between a laugh and a snort caught her attention. She turned to see Lyr lean back against the edge of his desk as his mouth twisted in a grimace.
Frowning, Norin looked between them. “Did I say something wrong?”
“She doesn’t know about soulbonds yet. She just met me and Kai yesterday.” Her father released a long, drawn-out breath. “Arlyn grew up in the human realm. I had a daughter with Aimee, and I never knew.”
“Which of the nine gods have you offended, Lyr?” Norin’s chuckle held little real amusement. “I do not even need the full story to see that you have had an amazing tangle of events—and in less than a day. Unfortunately, it is only going to get worse.”
“Surely not.”
Norin strode forward and held out the blood-stained bundle. “I would take a look at this dagger before you get your hopes up.”
Kai drifted to semi-wakefulness but was uncertain why. It was not pain; Lial had blocked that during healing. Arlyn was not near enough to pull him from such a deep sleep with her worry. Perhaps it was a dream, if one could dream of being awake. His mind wandered, unfocused. His soulbonded was beautiful. One of the last things he remembered was the gleam of her red hair when she bent over him. Maybe she would not hate him. Maybe it would work.
“I always said you were too hasty. But congratulations anyway.”
Was that Moren? It couldn’t be. If it had been a few days since the attack, Lyr would have already notified his brother. But why hadn’t Arlyn come back? Surely…
“Leave here, Kai, and go far away. I would not see you harmed.”
“What are you talking about, Moren? I already am.”
Silence. Was he hallucinating? Lial would have killed any infection, but maybe the steel had affected Kai’s mind. It took him several moments to force his eyes open. No one hovered in view. He tried to turn his head, but his body refused to obey.
“I fear the next attempt on your life will not end this well, so heed me now. Take your mate and leave. I can give you no other warning.”
Before Kai could ask another question, he heard a door open, then footsteps. He still detected his brother’s presence, watching, but as soon as the hand touched his shoulder, Moren disappeared completely from his mind. Or had he ever even been there? Everything was muddled.
“Rest, Kai.” Lial’s face appeared above him. “Or you will delay your recovery. I do not want to block you from mental communication, but I will if I must. Who was agitating you so much?”
“Moren,” Kai whispered though he was surprised he could manage even that.
Lial’s brows rose. “Your brother is not here.” Kai could hear the frown in the healer’s voice. Or maybe he could feel it. He wasn’t sure anymore. “No one in your family has been notified of the attack, and the few here who do know what happened have been ordered to silence. Now let me help you rest while I check for infection. Perhaps I missed something.”
Between one thought and the next, Kai fell back into the darkness.
Moren jerked the hood of the cloak over his head and disappeared once more. His eyes slid closed as he slumped against the tree. Too close. He shouldn’t have stayed until the healer touched Kai, but Moren had wanted a glimpse of Lial’s intentions. And had almost been caught in the process.
Pulling the fabric tight around his frame, Moren straightened
. Even with his head uncovered, the cloak let him slip through the estate shields, but allowing himself the freedom to use telepathy also left him vulnerable to mental scans. He had to go, and fast, in case he’d been found out. Lial might have noticed something amiss.
Though no one could see Moren beneath the cloak, he took a reflexive glance around before turning to dart back down the path. He’d done all he could. If his brother wouldn’t take his advice, then so be it. Though he had sworn to their mother he would protect Kai. Moren bit back a curse. How could his brother have gotten caught up in this?
He needed to make himself scarce. If his father found out what Moren had been up to, Kai would be the least of his problems.
The explosiveness, not to mention the creativity, of Lyr’s curse surprised Arlyn. As she gaped at him, her father straightened from where he leaned against the desk and grabbed the knife, the steel knife, only the bloody cloth between his hand and the hilt. Before she could blink, he had turned the blade to examine the pommel. He made a sound almost like a choke, every ounce of blood seeming to drain from his face.
“Father?” He glanced up sharply at her voice, not missing what she had called him, but she did not give him time to dwell on it. “What is it?”
Lyr clutched the hilt in his hand so hard his knuckles were white. “I have seen this seal before. Once before.”
“Then you know who it belongs to?”
“No.” He spun, slamming the knife down on his desk. The metallic clank rang loud in the quiet room. “The last time I saw it, it was attached to the sword sticking out of my father’s back.”
“What?” The sudden wail drowned out Arlyn’s gasp. All three turned at the sound to see Lynia standing in the doorway, her mouth open in horror.
“Laiala,” Lyr whispered, aghast.
“It was an accident. They told me it was an accident. He had been experimenting with those damn steel swords, trying to find a way to overcome the allergy.” Lynia shook her head. “You were not even here. You were with Aimee.”
“Norin had Kai come get me right after he found father. Lial had sedated you by the time I arrived,” Lyr said in a soft, pained voice.
“You!” Lynia advanced on Norin, her hands fisted as though she would hit the warrior. “Why did you tell me it was an accident? You said he slipped in his workshop while testing spells on the blade. You lied to me.” She turned on Lyr. “And you continued the lie. Why?”
Lyr rushed over to his mother. “You were already insensible with grief at the severing of your bond. For a while, I believed you’d be lost, too. Would you have had us add to that?”
“It has been more than twenty years, but you have never told me the truth.”
“What would have been the point?” Lyr touched her face gently, lovingly. “I have worried about you every day since it happened. For years, it seemed you would never recover, but you have finally begun to return to yourself. I did not want to upset that.”
Lynia’s fingers wrapped around his wrist. “That was not your decision to make.”
Tension swirled through the room like mist, clinging. Arlyn lifted a fist to press against the ache in her own heart at the sight of her father and grandmother, their faces pinched with grief. After a moment, Lyr hung his head. “Forgive me. I should have. Everything was in so much upheaval.”
“Ah, tieln.” Lynia released Lyr’s wrist, then pulled him into her arms.
Eyes closed, they clung together, mother and child bound by love and shared pain. Arlyn lifted her other hand to her mouth to stifle a sudden sob. Her own mother had once held her just like that when she needed comfort.
When Lynia pulled back, tears glimmered on her cheeks. “I will always forgive you.”
“I know.” Lyr let out a shuddering breath. “Even when I don’t deserve it.”
“Did you stay here for me?”
“Laiala, please.”
“No, I know it. If not for me, you might have gone back.” Lynia brushed the tears from her face, but more fell to replace them. “You ruined your life, and your daughter’s, by upholding this lie. I am certain you spent much time shielding me from what truly happened.”
Arlyn gasped as understanding hit. Her father had been with Aimee when Kai had come to get him. He must have rushed home at once. And who wouldn’t have? Short of breath, Arlyn clutched at her throat. All the years of bitterness over her father’s perceived irresponsibly, all the hurt she had held close—a waste laid bare by the truth. Rather than carelessly slipping through her mother’s life, he must have left in a panic. Arlyn had always been told there was some kind of emergency, but she’d assumed her mother had only been trying to make her feel better. Why hadn’t Lyr told her about the tragedy when she’d confronted him?
Lyr’s hands balled into fists. “There was more to it than that.”
“I suppose you looked for Telien’s murderer.”
“Yes,” Lyr answered. “For years.”
Lynia’s brow furrowed. “If it wasn’t those things, then what?”
“She told me not to return,” he snapped, the pain in his voice stabbing like a blade. “We both agreed it would be too risky to take her through the Veil in a rush, but I tried to convince her.” Lyr’s jaw clenched. “I told her I would come back when I could though it might be a few years. She said it would be too late.”
“Oh, my love,” Lynia whispered.
“I might have tried anyway, but the search for the assassin took so long. For over ten years, I looked, following every lead. And I found nothing.” Lyr’s shoulders slumped. “I let fear rule. Fear that she hadn’t loved me. I stayed away. And now it will forever be too late.”
In the charged wake of his words, he pushed past Lynia and strode from the room.
Arlyn found him in a tower rising near the edge of the garden. Her fingers tightened on the small silk pouch in her hand as she looked up the staircase that spiraled up the center. From her mental map, she knew it was an observation tower. A lofty one. Blowing out a breath, she began the long climb, her steps growing ever heavier with the pain that emanated down from her father.
Either she was getting better at connecting with his energy, or her talent for empathy was growing in this place. Maybe both. From her limited experience, what Lyr had said—that energy didn’t lie—was true. Arlyn found in him a certain similarity to herself. To the power she’d struggled to grasp for years. And a certain resonance, like a song perfectly in tune, with Kai.
The staircase opened into a single room at the top of the tower, the walls almost entirely glass. Arlyn drew to a halt, her eyes going wide. She’d marveled at the view from her father’s study, but this? With a shake of her head, Arlyn tore her gaze from the window and searched for Lyr. He had to know she was there, either by her energy or the sound of her gasp, but he didn’t turn from where he stood, one hand braced against a column framing a window. Unsure of her reception, she took a few steps into the room, then paused.
“I should have told you earlier,” Lyr murmured.
Arlyn shifted a little closer. “About your father?”
“Yes. And that your mother denied me.” He turned enough for her to see his face in profile. “My cowardice. All of it.”
Her stomach pitched. And not because of the height. “I had no idea she told you not to come back. It makes no sense. She always spoke of you with longing. She loved you.”
His fingers whitened where he gripped the column. “So I’d believed.”
“No, I mean it. She did.” Arlyn lifted a hand to offer comfort, then pulled it back. “She never even dated anyone else to my knowledge. Mom told me over and over not to blame you for leaving. I grew up hearing stories of you and all you’d told her of this world.”
Lyr spun, his face pinched with frustration and hurt. “Then why?”
“I don’t know.” Arlyn lifted the bag between them. “Maybe this will tell you. Mom would not rest until I swore to bring it to you.”
With a frown, he took the smooth si
lk from her hands and unwrapped the ties. For a moment, he hesitated, then plunged a hand in. First came a chain with a pendant attached, much like the one Arlyn wore around her own neck. Lyr held it, a trembling thumb caressing the inscription carved into the metal. “My medallion. I never started the bonding, but I—”
His mouth pinched closed, cutting off the rest of his words, and his hand tightened around the chain. Lyr closed his eyes, then let out a long breath. A few heartbeats and he opened them again to loop the chain around his wrist and reach into the bag once more. This time, he pulled out a letter. Sealed. Arlyn had almost opened it several times but had never quite found the courage.
At first, she worried that her father would have the same problem. Lyr stared down at the envelope, one finger running along it with reverence, until Arlyn wanted to scream. Didn’t he want to know? But finally, he tore it open and pulled out the letter within. He paced the room as he read, his brow furrowed. Arlyn tapped her foot and forced herself not to snatch the paper from his hand.
Just as her patience was nearing its end, Lyr stopped, then folded the letter and slipped it back into the envelope. The eyes he lifted to hers were so full of loss that tears gathered at the back of Arlyn’s throat and teased at her eyelids. “What did it say?”
“She knew.” His voice was rough. Raw. “She knew she would meet me. That I would leave. That we could never be together beyond a month.”
“What?”
“She said she had visions.”
Arlyn let out a long breath as flashes of memory sprang forth. The times her mom had warned Arlyn away from danger. The things she’d just known. “She used to joke about being psychic. But psychics aren’t real. Are they?”
“I have no idea about humans, but seers are quite real on Moranaia.” Lyr unwound the chain from his wrist and held it up, his gaze drawn to the swinging pendant. “Aimee wrote that she’d seen more pain for all of us if I’d returned. Her body was too weak even then to make the crossing, and I’d be forever torn by my duties here.”
Soulbound (The Return of the Elves Book 1) Page 8
