Shadows Grow

by Kara Jaynes

  Scent. “The elves will smell you,” I whisper. “Or rather, they’ll pick up my scent on you if they come to your room any time soon.”

  Stella nods, her face still buried in my shirt. “I already worked around that,” she says. “I’ll be fine.”

  I don’t know what she means by that, and my arms tighten around her. Stella’s a smart girl. She’ll be fine. I hope.

  Stella is the first to pull away. She’s blinking rapidly, and her face is red.

  I’ve made her cry, and I don’t know if I should feel upset or elated at the knowledge. “Tomorrow,” I whisper, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.

  Then I’m leaping up again, creeping across the roof in absolute silence.

  I’m growing stronger; I can feel it with every swallow of blood I take. But am I stronger than the elves, yet?

  I don’t know. Possibly, but instinct tells me to run. Because of the elves, of course.

  Nothing to do with getting as far away from Stella and her irresistible scent, and the sweet, sweet blood, coursing relentlessly through her veins.

  Nothing to do with that.

  I don’t breathe easy until I’ve put over a mile between us.

  24

  Eldaren

  I have to visit my mother. I don’t dare put it off any longer. Having her come here to Earth would be a complete disaster, and word of my current entanglement with a human girl would almost certainly reach my father’s ears.

  On reaching Stella’s door, my nose wrinkles. Even outside of her chamber, I pick up the scent of what is an outrageous amount of perfume. Staggering, actually. What is she up to?

  It’s already eight in the morning, so she’ll be awake.

  Except she is not. Stella is sprawled motionless on her bed, wearing a nightgown, the hem scrunched halfway up her thighs.

  Wow. The human exclamation rises unbidden to my head, as I cough from the cloying scent of citrus and vanilla. Stella is thin; too thin, maybe, but her legs are ‘something else,’ as Sol would say. They are very, very nice to look at.

  Her hair tangles about her face, a perfect nest of dark blonde strands. Her breaths are deep and even. Books lie scattered all over the bed, but my gaze is locked on her.

  There’s nothing wrong with me staring at her, I don’t think, but I know she’d say something about it if she were awake to know, so I avert my gaze as I stride up to her. I poke her in the ribs. “Wake up.”

  Stella sits up with a startled cry, jerking away from me and falling onto the floor on the opposite side of the bed. She jumps up, pushing hair out of her face with one hand as she tugs her nightgown hem down with the other. “What’s happening?” she asks.

  My heart softens at the notes of fear and confusion in her voice. “Nothing is happening,” I say. I cough again, my eyes watering from the scent. “Stars above, what—why did you spray all of this perfume in your room? It’s so strong I can’t smell anything else.”

  A strange look flashes across her tired features. Satisfaction and guilt. “Oh, sorry,” she says. “I guess you elves have a heightened sense of smell, don’t you?”

  I blink, my eyes watering. Stella is fiddling with a strand of her hair, looping it around her fingers. “You should only use a fraction of what you just did,” I tell her. “This is a disgusting amount.”

  She nods. “Understood. I sprayed my room last night. I imagine some of the smell has dissipated, hasn’t it?”

  I gape at her for a second, then stride to her window and open it. “Don’t do that again, Stella,” I say. “I can’t imagine breathing in all of that fragrance for hours is good for you. Why did you do it?”

  “It smells nice,” is the simple reply.

  I eye her over my shoulder. Her hair is wet, so she must have showered before going to bed. “How long were you up?” I ask.

  Stella glances at the clock. “Around three? Three-thirty, maybe. I don’t know. I was busy.”

  Ah, yes, the books all over her bed. She must have stayed up late reading them. “I came to let you know that I am about to leave. There is a matter on my home planet I must see to.”

  Quiet settles as Stella digests this new information. “Is everything okay?” she asks after a moment.

  “Yes,” I reply. “But I must go today. I’ve put it off too long as it is.”

  A wry smile tugs her mouth. “I didn’t know elves were capable of procrastination.”

  Procrastination. It takes me a moment to process that word, as I’m not overly familiar with it. My face warms when the definition mentally clicks into place. “That is because we are not prone to—” I fumble with the word, knowing my accent is coming out strong. “Procrastination.” My face warms further, and I glare at her. “Stars know I’ve had a lot to do here, on Earth.”

  “It’s fine,” she says, and she bites her bottom lip, looking down at the floor.

  I peer at her suspiciously. She’s not doing a very good job of hiding her amusement. But then, I can’t expect her to, being human.

  “Well,” I say slowly, “I’m going to leave. I shall try to make my visit brief, but it could be a few days.”

  Something shifts in her expression and is gone. “Okay,” she says.

  “You’re not planning on trying to escape, are you?” I say, and Stella flinches.

  “That depends,” she says, which initially alarms me, but then she continues. “Would you and Quinn be coming with me?” She smiles tentatively.

  Oh. Of course. She has nowhere to go, not without Quinn. And she mentioned me.

  Now a smile spreads across my face. “I’ll bring you a gift,” I say. “Something you don’t have on Earth.”

  “Really?” Stella’s face lights up. “Like what?”

  “That would spoil the surprise, Stella, mine,” I reply. I take her hand, kissing the knuckles. She smells strongly of soap. “Take care, my heart. Until we meet again.”

  I leave shortly thereafter. Going alone, with only a pilot, I leave Earth and its sad state of affairs behind. I look down at the brown and blue orb, a frown knitting my brows together. How can I heal the planet? We’ve been planting trees like mad. It’s the responsibility of every elf currently on the planet. I’ve personally planted trees. No one is above such a sacred duty.

  But is it too late? The earth groans in her pain, and even Liberty quakes. Reports from the east aren’t very promising, either. Elves are pulling radiation directly from the air, but the process is slow. We’ve found some human magic users, which is promising. Once they can gain mastery over their abilities, I am certain things will improve. Their magic is native to this planet, which in many ways makes their abilities more effective in healing. But still; is it fast enough? Or were we too late to begin with?

  Time passes, and before long, we’re skimming over my home planet, dipping down to land in the docking field.

  Leaving the small sky ship, I step out, breathing the air deeply. Even here at the dock, the air thick with dust, it smells so much cleaner than Liberty.

  I’m wearing my elven uniform, complete with the stitching and medals that show my status. I technically don’t need all of that; my people recognize me on sight, but it’s a formality my father expects me to uphold. What would he think if he knew I preferred the soft t-shirts and jeans that humans wore? They feel nice against my skin, especially the shirts. Elves are more concerned about appearances than they are about comfort. I frown and mentally fix my thoughts. We are more concerned about appearances than we are about comfort. There. Comfort is for sleeping, the ill, and the aged. I am not sleeping, and I’m neither sick nor old. This uniform, with its dark gray jacket, waistcoat, and trousers, suits me well enough.

  I draw near to the palace and enter, acknowledging the guards I pass with a simple nod. They all bow at my approach but remain expressionless, hiding emotion behind glittering eyes. Father won’t stand to have men serve in that position if they show any emotion whatsoever, so only elves who are capable of going through an ex
cruciatingly painful and mentally taxing training are allowed to serve as guards.

  I swallow as I walk up the steps that will lead me to the floor Mother resides. I underwent that training myself as well as other instruction. Father wouldn’t allow just anyone to oversee Earth’s healing. He doesn’t give favors to family unless they’ve earned them.

  Stars have mercy, I’ve earned every favor he’s given me, and I can’t decide if I’m better for it.

  Approaching Mother’s door, I ignore the guards standing outside and knock.

  “Go away,” a female voice calls.

  I smile. “Very well,” I say.

  There’s silence for a full second as Mother processes my voice. “Eldaren?” She sounds muffled, but she remedies that by opening the door. Her face breaks into a huge smile as she wraps her arms around me. “Eldaren!”

  I clear my throat, embarrassed by her emotion. The two guards are still impassive, but I can almost feel the disapproval emanating from them.

  I gently tug my arms free of Mother’s grasp and step into her room.

  “Oh, Eldaren,” she says, rolling her eyes at the guards. “It’s all right for a mother to hug her baby, and I don’t care how old you are.”

  Ears burning, I ignore her, and with a dramatic sigh, she follows me and closes the door behind us. “There, are you happy?” she asks.

  Holding back a sigh of my own, I smile and hold my arms out.

  All annoyance leaves her as she rushes over, flinging herself in my arms. “My sweetest child,” she chokes. “Oh, I’ve missed you, so, so much.”

  “How are you, Mother? And it’s only been a year since I left. That’s not long.”

  “Over a year,” she corrects with a sniff. She releases me and wipes at her eyes. “Stars, the palace is simply dreadful without your exuberance.”

  I wince. Exuberance is not a word I would like to describe me. “I’ve . . . missed you, too,” I say.

  My mother’s eyes narrow at my hesitation. She’s a beautiful woman. Even as her son, or perhaps, because I am her son, I can see it. We don’t look anything alike. I take after Father in that regard, thank the stars. He seems to find so little in common with his youngest son, at least we are similar in looks.

  But Mother has a feral beauty about her. If she were human, she’d probably look to be in her late thirties. She has emerald colored eyes and positively wild hair. Thick scarlet waves hang to just under her shoulders. It’s rather short for an elven woman, but she keeps it like that on purpose; probably to annoy my father. She’s rather fond of annoying people.

  “Well, I’m glad,” she sniffs. She looks away, glowering at the floor. “You have no idea what loads of nonsense I’ve had to put up with; I just wish I had someone to talk to. And don’t you dare suggest I talk to Aldriek. He’s terrible for conversation.”

  I bite my lip, trying to hold back a smile. Mother always complains about my father, but I know that doesn’t stop her from chattering on to him as much as she does to me—or to anyone else, for that matter.

  “I was about to come see you,” she says, switching subjects immediately. “You’ve been away too long. Maybe I’ll come back with you, and stay for a few weeks. I’d stay months, but you know how Aldriek gets without me here.”

  Yes, I knew. My father has as much expression as a slab of stone, maybe less, but if there is one thing that makes him agitated and stressed, it is being separated from Mother for long. What is considered a long time for an elf is very different for humans, but even still. Mother has never left the palace for more than six months at a time. They are mates, however, so I can sympathize. Even now, I miss Stella, and I’ve only been away for less than a day.

  Wait. My thoughts snap back to what Mother had said, and my gaze takes in the half-packed trunks lying about her room. “Stay on Earth?” I say. Stars, I’d come here so she wouldn’t go there.

  “Not at this point in time,” I continue smoothly. “Relations with the humans are rather strained right now, and I don’t want any harm to befall you.”

  Mother scoffs and folds her arms. “They’re humans, Eldaren. They can’t pose any threat to me.”

  That is probably true. Even though she is female, which makes her a good deal weaker than male elves, Mother is probably stronger than most human men on Earth. Not to mention her natural ability to heal quickly. She’d be fine.

  But I won’t be fine if she comes, and Stella won’t be fine. I need to stall her.

  “I’ll, uh, invite you later,” I say. A trickle of sweat slips down my back. “After Liberty is healed. I will throw you a party, Mother.”

  She beams. “I love a good party, dear son.” Her gaze narrows, curiosity flickering in their green depths. “You seem flustered. What about?”

  It’s very hard to hide things from Mother. She smells secrets like a pig smells truffles, though I will never voice that comparison aloud. “Things are rather complicated,” I say, keeping my answer vague. “It’s no trouble, though; I’ll figure it out.”

  She cooed. “Oh, my little Eldaren.” She pats me on the cheek. “I can speak to your father. If this is too much, then—”

  “No,” I say. I don’t want to interrupt, but I need to stop her now. “That won’t be necessary, Mother, thank you. Do not speak to Father. I am fine.”

  She tilts her head and then nods. “Of course. You can handle it.” Her fingers curl into fists, and she holds her head high. “You are my son, Eldaren. And the son of Aldriek. You can do anything you set your mind to.” Her gaze softens. “But remember this; it is not a weakness to feel. It is not weakness to ask for help.”

  “Thank you, Mother.” I manage not to roll my eyes, but only just. Mother wears her emotion like a badge of honor. I am also her only biological child, and she is fiercely protective of me. Yes, I have several brothers and a sister, but Mother is my father’s second mate. His first died, centuries ago. Elves mate for life, but if one dies, the survivor may take another mate. The Kenelky sparked between him and Mother.

  I sometimes wonder if he regrets it, but I know he doesn’t, despite the exasperation he feels regarding my mother’s antics. He loves her, more than anyone in the universe, but he doesn’t respect her. Not in the traditional sense, anyway.

  “Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you now?” she glances about her room. “Seems a shame to waste all of this work I put into packing.”

  “You have servants for that,” I say, and she waves a hand airily.

  “I like it,” she says. “No one knows what I need better than I do. And in the time it takes for me to tell them, I could have already done it myself.”

  “I plan to stay here a few days,” I say. “I hope that shall make you feel less anxious about my absence.”

  “I suppose it’s a start,” she says. “You’ll have to let me know when you’re ready for an earth visit. I read some of the reports you sent to Father, and it sounds like you’re making Liberty quite pretty with all of the trees and hedges you’ve been planting.”

  “Hardly,” I say. “It needs a lot more work.”

  “What else has been going on?” Mother asks. She begins to unpack. I pick up an armful of dresses, holding them for her as she puts them away, one by one. I tell her about the slow healing of the planet, the vampires, the dwindling gangs. I tell her everything.

  Everything, except Stella.

  25

  Stella

  The day drags. I don’t do much, my mind going over the events of the night before, and over what might happen tonight.

  I will have seen Wilder two nights in a row. The fates are very kind or cruel to give me such luck, and I can’t decide which it is.

  Aleere tsks when she walks into my room that morning with my breakfast tray, and after placing it on the table, she leaves and promptly returns with some cleaning supplies. She opens my window wider to aid the airing out and proceeds to wash the entire room down, finishing by stripping the bedding of its linen. I suspected she might do
just that, and had to foresight to hide my Wilder gifts in the wardrobe.

  Aleere refuses my offer of help, and anyway, as efficiently as she cleans, I would probably just get in the way.

  The remainder of the day passes by with agonizing slowness. I go downstairs and train. With Eldaren gone, and Sol nowhere to be seen, I exercise alone. Easy to do. The other elves that are working out and sparring don’t even give me a second glance.

  After that, I wander the halls, trying to familiarize myself with the base better. Some rooms I’m allowed in, others I’m not. I find myself in what looks like Miska’s office, and the tall, blonde elf woman ushers me out with a faint scowl, muttering in Elvish, which tells me she’s immensely irritated by my intrusion.

  I try to read, but I find myself repeatedly spacing out and give up after reading the same couple of paragraphs six times.

  By the time evening rolls around, I’m simply waiting. I pace my room, my body humming with pent up energy. Dinner comes and goes. Eating is almost impossible; my stomach is churning with nerves.

  I know Eldaren wouldn’t approve, even if this bookstore miraculously has information of a gaia. If I’m honest with myself, it probably doesn’t hold the key to anything. It’s just a bookstore.

  It does, however, seem strange that a bookshop, of all things, is in what is possibly the last Liberty underground market. Shops in such places typically sell illegal items; secretly, if not outright. Wilder is a reader, though, so it is more than likely that he has picked up a few books there in the past.

  With night having fallen, there is still no sign of Wilder. I dress for a night out of doors, including my now-favorite jacket and a pair of thick, wool socks, then climb into bed, putting my boots on the floor beside me. I don’t mean to sleep. I’m too nervous to, anyway. Every time Wilder comes is a huge risk to his safety. I shouldn’t have agreed to do this. But then again, every day he doesn’t come, means I don’t get to see him. I don’t like that option, either.