“And?” Kai asked.
“He reminded me of our deadline.” Lyr’s jaw clenched. “Today is the last day for you to cross the Veil to bring him and his daughter home.”
Kai set his cup on the desk hard enough to slosh a few drops of tea over the rim. “Surely, he isn’t still insisting I come?”
Arlyn’s brow pinched as she looked between the two. “What’s the problem?”
Both men turned incredulous looks her way. Kai shook his head. “You’re injured. My soulbonded. How could I leave at a time like this?”
“I’m not dying.”
Kai took a few steps toward her. “You almost did.”
“I don’t think so.” Arlyn lifted a hand as he opened his mouth to argue. “I don’t think I really would have left my body behind. Not that your comfort wasn’t helpful. But the wound wasn’t that bad.”
“By itself, no,” Lyr interrupted. “But your allergy to iron is severe. It’s why Lial can’t fully heal you. Some flakes were too small for him to extract. If they don’t work out on their own, he’ll have to find a way to purge them. There is still great risk.”
“Yeah, but I’m just sitting here. Kai can travel to Earth.”
Kai huffed out a breath. “It’s not that simple. Our bond is in the first stage, still tenuous, and you are weak. I’m not sure what the strain of such a distance will cause.”
“Maybe nothing,” Arlyn said.
“Fuck it all,” Kai bit out. “How can I take that chance?” He ran a hand through his hair. “How can I not? It’s to save a child.”
Arlyn’s breath caught at the turmoil he transmitted. “I’ll deal with any problems.”
Lyr and Kai exchanged glances. Her father frowned down at her. “Perhaps we could have Lial put you into a deep sleep. It would help you heal faster, too.”
“You’re joking, right?” Arlyn sat forward, jostling the tray on her lap. Thunder cracked outside, a satisfying counterpoint to her anger. “Stop talking around me. If there’s pain, or discomfort, or even agony, I’ll deal with it. Because I am a grown woman.”
Her father looked away. Kai shuffled his feet, then threw up his hands. “You’re right. But there are other guides. I don’t understand why it has to be me.”
Lyr’s shoulders slumped. “Ralan has Seen it.”
“Seen it?” Arlyn asked.
“He’s a seer,” Kai answered, frustration laced into his tone. “His vision apparently told him it must be me.”
“Then you’ll go.” Arlyn lifted her brows. “And let me worry about myself. Now get out of here. I want to take a nap.”
By the time Kai returned a couple of hours later, Arlyn was almost ready to crawl out of her own skin. How long could a person sit in bed and stay sane? She ran her finger along the flowers embroidered on the coverlet. Again. For the thousandth time. She swung her legs over the side of the bed just as the door opened.
“Arlyn!” Kai rushed forward. “You can’t get up.”
She shoved against his chest when he urged her to lie back down. “If I stay here much longer, I’m going to scream.”
“But your arm—”
“Hurts. The rest of my body doesn’t.” Arlyn scowled up at him. “Didn’t I tell you to stop treating me like a child? As helpless?”
Beneath her hand, his muscles tightened, and heat flared in his eyes. “I assure you I have never considered you such.”
“Really?” She pushed at him until she could stand. “You can’t blame your protectiveness on me being unarmed the way you did after the presentation.”
“That’s true. I can’t.” Kai’s hand cupped her cheek. “This is all feeling.”
Arlyn shivered. “Oh.”
He shifted, pulling her closer. “The thought of you in danger. Hurting. Upset here without me.” Kai’s hands tightened on her waist. “It rips at my heart.”
His mouth found hers, and she was lost in him. Lost in the desire that swirled around and between them. Her hands slid into his hair, and she stifled a wince. Arlyn didn’t care about the pain in her arm—she wanted to be closer to him. But Kai sensed the twinge and pulled back to rest his forehead against hers.
“Yet again, my timing is poor,” he murmured.
Arlyn couldn’t hold back her grin. “Are you forming a habit, or is this normal behavior?”
“I’m not sure.” Kai shocked them both by laughing. “You’d have to ask around.”
Her breath hissed out as she pulled back, putting strain on her wound. With a huff, she cradled her arm against her chest. Damned inconvenient. “I did want to talk to you.”
“Oh?”
The casual tone he tried to put into his voice didn’t fool her. His sudden, tense stillness would have given him away even if she couldn’t sense his emotions. “About our bond. You say it’s tenuous?”
“Arlyn…”
She took his hand. “Maybe we can fix that.”
Kai finally understood why people said their blood ran cold. “It’s your decision.”
“Relax.” Arlyn squeezed his hand. “I’m not calling for a priest just yet.”
His heart thundered in his chest like the storm that had woken them before dawn. “What do you want to do?”
“I’ve been thinking about this.” Arlyn released him, her hand moving to wrap around the pendant that bore her energy. “There’s something about you. About this bond.” She smiled. “I could be perfectly complete without you. But I’m not sure I want to be.”
Even his breath stilled as she lifted the necklace Lyr had given her over her head and raised it high. “i’Tayah ay nac-mor kehy ler ehy anan taen.”
Kai looked into her eyes, their green depths filled with amusement and uncertainty, and reached out to enfold her fingers and the chain with his own hand. Light flared, brighter than when he’d given his necklace, and he shivered as the bond tightened. His hand shook as he took the pendant and gathered it, still warm from her body, in his palm.
He caressed the engraving with his thumb as his eyes held hers. Heat sparked between them. And frustration. Kai dropped his gaze to her arm, cradled once more against her chest. Though his body was hard at the thought of completing their bond, he couldn’t. When they finally came together, he would have no risk of pain between them.
Gods, he hoped she felt better soon.
“I can’t believe you want to do this now,” Kai grumbled.
Arlyn smiled and leaned against him as he helped her down the stairs. She was still weak, but her legs only trembled a little as the two of them descended. “If I’m going to give our bond a chance, it means I’m going to stay. My father should know. Besides…”
Kai gave her arm a reassuring squeeze as they stepped into the entryway. “He’s not going to tell you to go away.”
“Probably not.” She lifted worried eyes to meet his amused ones. “But he might want to. I’ve caused him a great deal of trouble. And I might never fit in here.”
He paused beside the hallway that led to Lyr’s study. Gentle energy from the sacred tree buffeted Arlyn from behind, and she chuckled at the hint of reprimand within it. Kai lifted an eyebrow. “What?”
“Eradisel did not approve of my words.”
Kai glanced toward the tree. “She knows the foolishness behind your fears. If you want to make a place here, then you will. You have centuries to acclimate.”
“Easy for you to say.” Arlyn rolled her eyes and pulled him forward. “Come on.”
She knew he wanted to say more, but he let the subject drop. How could she argue the point, anyway? Only time would tell which one of them was right. So Arlyn walked on in silence, concentrating instead on keeping her steps firm. She couldn’t hide her weakness from Kai, but she would prefer her father didn’t guess.
Lyr’s voice sounded absent as he called for them to enter. Arlyn loosened her grip on Kai as they passed through the tiny hallway linking the estate to the study, then drew up short. Though Kai looked back at her in question, she could only stare.
Stacks of papers covered her father’s desk, more than she had seen there before. Lyr leaned over one small pile, his forehead resting on his hand as he glared at what he read.
She shuffled her feet, and Lyr looked up. “Forgive me. More reports arrived while you rested. It’s always busier as we approach harvest.”
Arlyn bit her lip. “We can come back later.”
“No.” Lyr straightened. Then his eyes narrowed on Kai. “I believe you have news of import?”
Arlyn took a deep breath and stepped closer, letting go of Kai. When she looked back at her bonded to see if he followed, her gaze caught on the pendant gleaming on his chest. No wonder her father seemed to know. She turned back to Lyr, but his expression was closed. Was he upset by what she’d done?
“I guess it’s obvious.” She locked her trembling legs when she reached the edge of his desk and prayed they would hold. “I decided to give this bond a chance. I hope you aren’t angry.”
Lyr leaned back, and his posture seemed to ease. Was that a hint of relief in his eyes? “Why would I be?”
Arlyn choked back a laugh. “You almost beat up Kai just a couple of days ago over the issue.”
“I’ll not deny it’s difficult,” Lyr said. “Part of me wishes we’d had time together, just the two of us. Time to get to know one another.”
Kai took her hand, offering silent support. “I would not interfere with that.”
“I know.” Her father studied Kai for a long moment. “I know that. I’ve had time to think, when I take breaks from all this paperwork.” His lips twisted up. “If you are happy, then I could be nothing less.”
“So you…” Arlyn swallowed against the sudden dryness in her throat. “You don’t mind if I stay?”
Lyr stood and joined her on the other side of his desk. “Arlyn. I’ve come to find that you staying here is my greatest hope. Never think otherwise.”
Arlyn sat in a seat by the window, one of her etiquette books open on the table beside her. She’d been hesitant to offer to help, but the weary look in her father’s eyes as he’d turned back to his desk had swayed her. Besides, she didn’t have anything else to do while Kai gathered supplies for his trip across the Veil.
She could hardly believe her father’s easy acceptance of her assistance. Lyr had keyed her to everything, including the secured drawer in his desk. No questions asked. Biting her lip, she lifted one of the papers from the pile he’d given her and hoped she wouldn’t be useless. He only wanted her to write out a summary. Surely, even she could do that.
After three hours of work and only two reports done, Arlyn had started questioning that assumption. She’d found herself consulting the etiquette book over and over, trying to separate the important information from the layers of politeness. Too bad the spell that gave knowledge of a language could not also give her an instant understanding of the culture.
Another half hour had passed before Arlyn glanced over at her father, a groan of frustration slipping free. “I can’t believe this is actually helping you. I bet you would have finished all of these plus ten or twenty more by now.”
Smiling, Lyr leaned back in his chair. “That may be so, but the time you have spent on those has allowed me to deal with other issues. The reports I gave you were the least urgent, so there is little rush. Besides, it helps you learn more of our world and of the people and lands you will someday have charge of as my heir.”
“Don’t remind me.” Arlyn rubbed her heavy eyes. At this rate, it would take her decades to pick out a simple greeting. She had to hope he’d live a long time—and not give up on life since he didn’t have the hope of finding another soulbonded. “If you become suicidal, I’ll kill you.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Lyr answered with a laugh.
They worked through a light lunch of salad, cheese, and a white, oddly tangy meat. Arlyn found she was getting faster at picking through the reports, but she had still only completed eight in all. Her father had worked his way through countless more, his expression rarely shifting from barely masked boredom. On occasion, he shared with her the more frustrating or amusing cases, like that of a man who petitioned for redress after being temporarily paralyzed by a mage whose wife he had insulted.
Lyr continued to chuckle long after he had finished explaining the situation. “I cannot imagine what he was thinking to insult someone from House Bian. Their tempers are almost as well-known as their magical skills.”
“You did say it happened in a pub. Glad to know such things aren’t limited to humans.”
“They are not, indeed, though they tend to happen less frequently here. The repercussions are often more dire.” He frowned down at the paper with a shake of his head. “Though I laugh at the situation, it must be handled with care to avoid a feud. Both were in the wrong, but that doesn’t always matter.”
Arlyn glimpsed out the window at the valley in the distance. “I still find it difficult to believe there is a village down there. I can’t see it from here.”
“Once we have ended the threat to our House, I will take you. I doubt we would enjoy the trip surrounded by the necessary number of guards. And I’d rather not alert those outside the estate of our troubles.”
Shoulder’s slumping, Arlyn returned to work on a rather dull report concerning the expected crop yield of a farming estate. Thankfully, her father chose that moment to stop for a while, and she put the paper aside with a great deal of relief. She’d have a difficult time knowing what he would find important in all that information. Was the lord or lady of the estate expected to remember it all? If so, she was doomed as heir. They’d all better hope her father lived a long time.
Arlyn walked between Kai and Lyr on the way to the portal, although both had wanted her to rest. But she’d napped again after helping her father—an easy task after the farming reports—and had even gone through another healing session with Lial. So long as they kept the pace slow, she could handle it. Especially since some of the heat had faded with sunset. Not much of the heat, but enough.
“So how does one properly greet an elven prince?”
“Greeting a prince and greeting Ralan can be two different things.” Lyr laughed. “I would not worry too much about formality with him.”
“I disagree, actually,” Kai said.
Lyr’s brows lifted. “How many times has he gotten angry or irritated at us for being formal?”
“At us, sure. He knows us. But Ralan is a perverse creature.” Kai shook his head. “Despite all of his protestations, he is still royal. He spent the first three hundred years of his life being deferred to, and he has hardly led a life of humility in the human world. He might not think he wants formality, but I wager if a stranger greeted him casually on his return, he would be taken aback.”
“Do you really think so?”
Kai shrugged. “He has never succeeded as well as he thinks at losing his princely attitudes. Look at how he commanded you to send me through the portal for him. He slips easily into the role at need.”
Lyr frowned. “You have a point.”
“Which leads us back to my original question,” Arlyn said, interrupting their debate.
“If I had time, I would teach you the High Court greeting.” Lyr smirked. “He might expect deference, but that would really get him.”
Arlyn stared at her father. “You seem to take an inordinate amount of pleasure in annoying a prince. Is this some kind of bizarre tradition I should be aware of?”
“No, not at all. I have been good friends with Ralan for centuries. I suppose it is simply a longstanding joke between us.”
They reached the portal, the simple stone arch glimmering in the moonlight. Had she not herself emerged from the mists in that very spot, Arlyn would not have believed it marked anything important. It resembled a large doorway missing its building. The stone wasn’t even carved, the absence of adornment striking after the beauty of her father’s home.
The clearing was equally sparse, with only a few logs that might se
rve as benches. Arlyn half expected to see crumbling ruins in the background. “It looks quite small for something so important.”
“The deception makes it harder to find and easier to guard,” Kai answered, hefting the pack he carried.
They stopped a few steps from the stone arch. Though the trees were visible behind it, the energy crackled in Arlyn’s bones. The same energy she’d followed from Earth. “How long will this take?”
Kai shrugged. “Depends on the Veil. A few minutes to a couple of hours.”
“Great,” she muttered, hoping her energy would hold out.
Kai pulled her into a hug, then just as quickly released her. His worried eyes met hers. “I wish you were resting. The pull is going to be uncomfortable.”
“Maybe staying close to the portal will help.”
“I suppose we’ll see.” He looked at Lyr. “Try to distract her.”
Without another word, Kai turned to the stone arch and walked into the mists. For a heartbeat, he disappeared from her senses just as he had her sight, and she gasped, her hand flying to her chest at the sudden lack. But almost at once, she could detect his presence again. She let out a long, shaky breath. The bond was still there, though her stomach pitched with the twisting and stretching of it.
Lyr gripped her elbow. “Let’s sit down.”
With a grateful glance, Arlyn plopped down on a nearby log. She tried closing her eyes, but it only made her disorientation worse. Instead, she took a deep breath and focused on her father. “So tell me about the elven prince who has chosen to live with humans for so long.”
“Now?”
She nodded. “A distraction, remember?”
“For the whole of the story, you will have to ask Ralan himself. I am sworn to secrecy.” Lyr’s gaze drew distant, considering. “It is mostly his father’s fault. Ralan is the most powerful seer born into the royal family in two generations. After the death of his great aunt not long after his one hundred and twelfth birthday, he provided visions for his father in her stead. Ralan hated it. I can only say that the king went too far in his requests, and Ralan left with a vow never to return. His daughter must be in dire shape for him to break that vow.”
Soulbound (The Return of the Elves Book 1) Page 20
