If only they could be so fortunate.
Lynia managed to drag her gaze away from Lial and Arlyn before he caught her staring. Removing her attention from what she’d seen wasn’t nearly as easy. Until today, she’d never seen him treat another person the way he had her after her fall. But then, she wasn’t usually near him when he was healing a patient. Even when she’d found him in the garden, struggling beneath the weight of Aris’s pain, Lial hadn’t been actively working. He’d merely received backlash through the healer’s link.
Was the man as overbearing with all of his patients as he was with her and Arlyn? If so, it suggested that he didn’t think she was weak. Or useless. Or any of the other negative words that had scratched at the edge of her thoughts during her recovery. Unless he had a low opinion of every patient, and she doubted that.
“I sense other books that could help, but they are not nearby,” Meli said, snapping Lynia back to the present moment.
Research. Research should be the focus of her attention.
Lynia blinked up at Meli. “Do you know where?”
“Well…” Meli’s hand lifted, and she pivoted until she faced roughly west. “The strongest is that way, but I sense that it is far. Thank goodness I’ve learned to resist the call of the stones, or Freyr knows how far I’d walk before you caught me. Another, fainter trail is that way.” Meli angled in a more southerly direction. “And I think there’s something over…”
Following Meli’s gesture, Lynia looked over her shoulder toward the northeast, but of course, she couldn’t see anything except the library wall. “I hope it isn’t as far flung as the dragons’ isle.”
Meli dropped her hand back to her side. “I’m sorry I can’t be more accurate.”
“I understand, and I appreciate the effort,” Lynia said. “It narrows down the possibilities, if nothing else. The one to the west might be the Citadel, and the royal archives could be one of the others. There are also a few estates to the northeast, but only a couple are likely sources.”
“That is good.” Then Meli grinned. “You’ll have to let me know if I need to start walking.”
The woman’s wry tone had Arlyn chuckling and Lial’s lips twitching, but Lynia had to fight back a surge of worry. Meli had once used the runes to find Lyr when he was injured, and they’d taken her over so thoroughly that she really might have walked across a continent, possibly until she’d collapsed. What if that happened again? Lyr would be devastated, and Lynia couldn’t stand the thought of being to blame.
Meli’s brows drew together. “I wasn’t serious.”
“I know.” Lynia forced herself to smile. “I suppose this situation has me nervous about everything.”
Not that she wouldn’t keep an eye on Meli next time she helped. Just in case.
Meli’s gaze grew distant for a moment before she blinked and focused once more. “Do you need me to search for anything else? Lyr just asked for my help with a report.”
“That’s fine,” Lynia said. “I need to speak with Arlyn, anyway.”
Not that she entirely believed Meli’s claim. There was a reason she was careful to knock on the study door now.
Lynia waited until Meli had given her farewells and closed the door behind her before she dared to look at Arlyn. As expected, her granddaughter was barely holding in her amusement, and as soon as their eyes met, they both broke into laughter. Arlyn settled her hand against her growing belly as her body shook with it, and the motion had Lynia’s humor settling into a perfect moment of joy.
“A report,” Arlyn said as her chuckles died down. “Sure. If we weren’t talking about my parents, I could pull out a list of jokes about that lie.”
Lial’s warm laugh had Lynia and Arlyn staring at him, so rare was the sound heard. “I am not so constrained,” he said, “But I will resist for both your sakes.”
With that laugh, her son was the last thing on Lynia’s mind. She was too busy studying the unexpected sight of an amused Lial. With the midmorning sun highlighting his relaxed expression and sparking his auburn hair to embers, it would have been difficult not to. She couldn’t deny he was a handsome man. If she didn’t have so many burdens, not the least a soul left raw from her broken bond, then maybe…
Thankfully, Arlyn broke that line of thought before Lynia could let herself drift so close to future heartbreak. “Not to bring down the mood, but Onaial said you wanted my help with your research? It’s nearing the midday meal, and this baby will give me hell if I miss food.”
Lial turned a frown on Arlyn. “You haven’t been testing that lack of food often, I hope?”
“Of course I haven’t.” Arlyn’s lips twisted, and she raised her brows at Lial. “Do you really think I’m going to starve my baby? Seriously.”
He straightened. “It is my duty to—”
“Stuff it, Lial,” Arlyn snapped, making Lynia snort. She didn’t entirely understand the slang, but she got enough of the intent to appreciate it. “And don’t bother trying to threaten me. You wouldn’t do a damned thing to a pregnant woman.”
Although Lial scowled, he actually shut up.
Lynia needed to take lessons from her granddaughter on that skill.
It wasn’t a long walk to the fairy pond, but Kai rushed along the path regardless. All he wanted to do was curl up with Arlyn in their room, barricaded from the world. But that wasn’t reasonable, and even if she would have put up with it, she shouldn’t. He knew that. His worries, borne of his own past, weren’t her fault or responsibility.
The fact that avoiding a plague was both reasonable and vital didn’t silence his protective impulse.
Moranaia is free of illness, Kai reminded himself—repeatedly.
Finally, he reached the border of the fairy lands, and he had something to focus his scattered thoughts on. As he paused at the line of energy shielding the pond, he considered what he should say and concluded that the unembellished truth would be best. It would make for a quick and hopefully productive meeting. Then he could return to Arlyn.
Light sparked at the center of the pond, and a fairy the size of his head appeared without preamble. Blue hair danced around her iridescent wings and tangled in the folds of her light purple dress as it rippled in the breeze. Princess Nia. Kai hadn’t had much reason to come this way until recently, but he would recognize Nia anywhere after she’d saved Arlyn. With luck, she would be willing and able to save many more.
“Enter in peace,” Princess Nia said, flying closer.
Unlike during his last visit, she had no attendants, and none appeared as Kai crossed the invisible threshold onto her land. She hovered there, her impassive gaze locked on him as he strode to the edge of the water. This time, the princess didn’t shift her size to match his.
So she also anticipated a short meeting.
Kai inclined his head. “Thank you, Princess Niesanelalli. I am honored that you granted me a meeting.”
“Relatives of the Myern are usually welcome.” The princess studied him for several heartbeats. “And in this case, I admit to curiosity. We aided the Ljósálfar by healing the poison invading their energy fields, yet I sense your distress. Neither our seers nor our healers have revealed to me a new danger.”
That was unfortunate, at least for his mission. Any time they’d needed the fairies’ aid, Princess Nia had known about it before they had. “I have come with a request from Myern Lyrnis, although he is fully aware that you might not be able to grant it.”
“A surprise.” The princess frowned. “Thank you for bringing the matter here on his behalf. I will hear his request.”
“One of our strongest seers, Prince Ralan, has foreseen the rise of a new illness,” Kai explained. “One not of the energy fields but of the body, much like human sickness. It is believed to be related to the energy poisoning spell you cleansed from Alfheim, but this version is capable of infecting elves and fae physically. Lord Lyrnis asks for the help of any healers who might aid in stopping this blight.”
Princess
Nia canted her head. “True illness affecting either of our kind? Impossible.”
Kai wanted to agree, but Ralan was correct far too often for him to believe it. “Perhaps it will be impossible for your people. That I cannot say. However, there is already evidence that this is feasible for mine.”
The princess considered him again, and he held her gaze until she nodded. “I will see this matter investigated amongst my own seers. As for the Myern’s request, I will need to consult with my healers. If any are willing, then we will grant aid. I will send a call forth when it is decided.”
“A mental call?” Kai asked, although he was certain that whatever method she used, it would be unmistakable.
“Yes,” Princess Nia confirmed. “I will ensure it reaches you.”
Her wings beat faster, and she began to drift backward. A dismissal, then. “I will await your call. Thank you.”
“Blessed journey,” she said, and then she was gone.
Kai didn’t waste time looking around. When the fairies bid you farewell, you left. They weren’t necessarily more powerful than elves, but their gifts were different enough that they could be tough to counter. Kai spun away, his steps carrying him toward the estate. Though the princess hadn’t agreed to give aid, there was hope. That was better than nothing.
Chapter 5
Lynia tucked her feet up against the arm of the chair and grabbed a book from the stack on the side table. She’d sent her request to Delbin and eaten a quick midday meal. Now, it was time to research. She’d considered staying at the large table at the base of the library, but she was more likely to be disturbed down there. Less so at the top, which took a fair bit of climbing to reach. The possibility of increased interruptions was certainly a disadvantage to adding the lift, but one she would manage.
Light poured in through the window, highlighting the empty chair across from her. Once, the glow would have gilded Telien’s brown hair with streaks of gold as he bent over some epic tale or a stack of reports that couldn’t wait. She could almost feel his presence at times, the memory of his laughter or wry comments curling around her body with every breath.
The memories should have made her lonely, but they brought more comfort than pain. They surrounded her, supporting her like the soft, deep chair where she curled. She refused to let that feeling go. Lyr had once asked how she’d gained the courage to return to the library so soon after Norin had ambushed her in this spot, leading to her near-fatal fall, but she hadn’t found the words to fully describe her drive then.
She’d come to realize it was a combination of stubbornness and nostalgia.
Not that it was always easy. She startled at times if someone else was using the library and their footsteps drew too near on the stairs. She’d almost thrown a book at Kai once when he’d come up to see if she needed anything, but that had been weeks ago. These days, the knife she wore tucked against her calf was comfort against those anxieties, and years of working in this spot meant she concentrated better here in spite of momentary disturbances.
Speaking of which.
Lynia shook off the memories and focused on the title of the book Meli had found for her. Import and Export Records for the Years 11,201-11,211, Volume 6. Such an unusual tome for this task. What in the world could she possibly find in a list of goods traded over twenty-six thousand years ago? Had Meli grabbed the wrong book? It made no sense.
Even so, Lynia opened the cover and skimmed the list of contents, and a hint of clarity hit at the names of each section—this volume contained information concerning trade with then-colonies of Moranaia. But where to begin? The book that mentioned the traitor Bleyiak hadn’t given a precise year, and she’d been unable to find another record of the colony.
The initial list was no help in that regard. With a huff, Lynia flipped to the first section and began to skim the endless lists. Colony name, date, trader name, item, cost or item bartered. At first, it was slightly interesting to see the flow of goods so long ago. Peresten and peresten-forged weapons had brought an even higher price then, and one colony had requested far more meat and timber than was generally offered. Telien’s great-grandfather had traded patterned fabrics from that colony in return, and she found herself wondering if it had been used on any of the furnishings still on the estate. No way to know from these records.
Unfortunately, it didn’t take long for even that novelty to fade, and the lines blurred together until she almost slammed the book closed in frustration. But she held out. She was on the third colony listed in the book before her patience paid off in the form of a trader name.
Bleyiak.
Had Meli’s runes not delivered this text into Lynia’s hands, she might have passed the name off as a coincidence. After all, someone else could have borne the same name, and it seemed incongruous that a simple trader could bring on the downfall of an entire colony with a spell. People with that kind of power usually became battle mages or guardians. But whatever the reason, she couldn’t dismiss the information as mere happenstance.
The question now was…what did she need to do with it? Bleyiak had signed orders for a variety of foodstuffs, herbs used in both cooking and healing, cloth, paper, a rare ink, and decorative pottery from the Seelie court—none of which screamed item used to begin a plague. Of course, the items themselves might have been a catalyst for the man’s rage rather than an instrument he’d used, but the dry lines of facts gave no indication of that.
Perhaps the two most useful things here were the name of the colony, Abuiarn, and the year, 11,208. It would be far easier to request information from other archives with these facts. Lynia lifted her small notebook from beside the larger pile and opened it. With a quick burst of magic, she transcribed a copy of the relevant pages into her own records.
It wasn’t much, but it was a beginning. One she owed to Meli, since Lynia wouldn’t have thought to grab this particular book. The colonies that had branched from Moranaia in the first few millennia had either disbanded, died out, or separated into their own kingdoms long before Lynia was born, so the lack of records might have driven her to this book eventually.
But with a potential outbreak to deal with, she didn’t have time for eventually.
This meeting wasn’t going to be easy, but it was necessary if Lial were to begin looking for his replacement.
Pausing outside the study, Lial took a deep breath. The last couple of days had shown him all too clearly that he wouldn’t be able to tolerate remaining so close to Lynia now that she knew—and didn’t return—his feelings. He valued his friendship with her, but even that would be at risk if he stayed. He’d begun to long for so much greater between them. Home. Family. A deeper connection. It would be pure misery to watch that dream fade as the decades blurred into centuries.
Certainly, there might be times when they would be able to avoid one another, but there was no way to prepare for events that might throw them together. And it didn’t have to be something as monumental as researching a plague. Injuries and births. Festivals and formal occasions. Too many things would bring her near.
But never near enough.
As much as Lial loved his position at Braelyn, he couldn’t imagine staying in a place that promised so much agony. It had been hard enough attempting to live at the palace after he’d unexpectedly lost his first love. To live each day dreading and hoping to see his second love? He couldn’t do it. Better to spare himself and everyone involved future turmoil by leaving now.
Resolved, Lial knocked on the door of Lyr’s study and waited to be invited inside. A more ceremonious beginning than they’d become accustomed to over the years, but it would be a good signal to Lyr that this would be no casual discussion. And as expected, Lyr was standing formally in front of his desk at the far end of the large oval room when Lial entered. Message received.
Crossing between the chairs grouped in the center, Lial stopped a couple of paces away from Lyr, inclined his head, and tapped his chest twice with his closed fist. While Lyr’s expres
sion was impassive, his hesitation in responding told well enough of his confusion. It couldn’t be helped. With luck, the formality would make this easier, at least as much as it could be.
“Good afternoon, Callian iy’dianore sebarah i Lial Caran nai Braelyn,” Lyr said. “I hope you fare well this day.”
Ah, his full title. Lyr had decided to really go for it, it seemed. Fortunately, Lial wouldn’t have to return the favor as a subordinate. “As well as can be, Myern Lyrnis. Is your family well?”
“I do hope you are aware,” Lyr answered, his brows lifting infinitesimally. “Considering you are responsible for healing their ills.”
Like Lynia’s. Lial wanted to growl at the thought, but it would do no good. The only thing that would help was escaping this intolerable situation. “That is true. It was mere politeness.”
“Not one of your finer talents, I’m afraid.” Lyr crossed his arms, his demeanor losing its cold, formal edge. “What is this about, Lial?”
“As to the first point, you were the one who rebuffed my inquiry with rudeness,” Lial felt compelled to point out. “But the second… I wanted to begin this meeting with the proper tone since my request is likewise serious.”
Lyr waved toward the chairs. “Sit. And I suppose I was a bit sharp in my commentary, although the point stands. You’ve been directly treating both my mother and daughter, after all. They are both well?”
“They are,” Lial answered as he lowered himself in the seat across from the one Lyr chose. “But you know I wouldn’t give you details without their permission, not unless there was no choice for the safety of all.”
“Fine. But again, I must ask.” Lyr tapped his fingers against the arm of his chair. “What is this about?”
Solace Page 6
