by Kumar, Lisa
Turning to go in that direction, Cal stumbled to a stop.
Just ahead of her, slightly off to the left in a corner, was a familiar soft mist. Like a marionette on a string, it drew her. When she neared, just discernable were tumultuous gray eyes that glared in a pinched face.
Cal shook her head at the accusation in his gaze. “I didn’t ask for this.” She didn’t know if she meant the party and the over-eager guys, or him and his crazy world of dreams and mists.
“I’m sorry.” Her apology came out a whisper. Turning, she shoved through the crowd toward the exit. Maggie called after her. Thankfully, her friend must’ve gotten caught in the crush of bodies because she didn’t follow.
After she left the noisy party, it didn’t take her long before she arrived at the apartment. She closeted herself in her room and sawed away at the bracelet, but it did no good. With a yell, Cal threw the scissors across the room. They bounced off the wall, leaving a nasty dent, before they clattered onto a table.
As she held and rubbed her left wrist, tears coursed down her face. Damn it, she wanted no part of…whatever this was. Relian and everything else related to him needed to go back to fantasyland. Her breath hitched. But running wouldn’t tell her why she’d been medicated for most of her life, why she’d seen things nobody else had. Flames ignited in her chest. Her childhood had been ruined by him, by that mist. He owed her some answers.
“Cal,” Maggie called softly.
She started and looked up as Maggie interrupted her righteous plan for justice.
“Please tell me what’s wrong.”
Cal ignored the plea. Maggie walked closer and focused her gaze on her wrist, which was red and raw in places. She grabbed Cal’s hand to still her movements over the inflamed area. “What did you do?” Her voice rose in pitch.
“Nothing! The blasted thing won’t come off, and I cut myself instead of it.” Cal yanked on her bracelet to give credence to her words. She couldn’t help it. The truth was about to tear her up inside. Who better to tell than her best friend? Maggie might not think her too crazy.
“What do you mean, it won’t come off?”
She sounded disbelieving, and Cal couldn’t blame her. Maggie gave her a frown before she stood up to go over to Cal’s desk to grab another pair of scissors.
Maggie brought them back to the bed. “See, this is how we cut things. By opening the scissors like this, you can make a nice, big cut.” She demonstrated this for Cal, showing her how they opened and closed. “And now we line it up like so,” Maggie said and showed her by opening the scissors and placing the bracelet between the blades. “Now we make that nice, big cut like….” Her words trailed off as she attempted a cut, and her eyes widened.
Nothing happened. No surprise there.
Maggie tried again to cut the cord of hair and silver thread. “Does this baby need a blowtorch or what?” She threw down the scissors and examined the bracelet for a cut. “Not even a nick?”
“See, I told you.” Cal offered her a wavering smile.
Maggie choked out, “What? How?”
Cal shook her head. “I don’t know. All I have are suspicions. And before you ask about what,” she said, cutting Maggie off, “I will explain, but please let me tell you this...story without interruption. Otherwise, I might lose the courage to finish.”
Maggie mutely nodded. She looked shocked and numbed at the same time, and Cal hadn’t even begun her tale yet.
“Okay.” Cal let out a breath she hadn’t been aware she held. She began at the very beginning with the dreams and visions she’d experienced since she was a young child, of how she’d seen the “Fair Folk” when she was twelve. Then came the latest tale of the mist and meeting Relian.
True to her word, Maggie spoke not a word. She just sat there with a slack expression on her face. A few times Cal wondered if she even listened anymore. But Maggie most likely hung onto every detail and worked hard to process all she said. The supposedly impossible becoming possible would bog anyone down.
After Cal drew to a finish, her friend sat there for a few minutes, mouth agape. Anxiety welled up. What would Maggie say? Fortunately, she didn’t have to wait long to find out that answer.
“The story would be unbelievable coming from almost anyone else. But I know you. You don’t lie for kicks. You’re a little strange at times, just like I am, but not crazy. There’s also the proof of this irremovable bracelet. Given that, I’m sure we’re not both subject to the same hallucination.” She paused before finishing with her usual panache. “Wow, so totally awesome in a really disturbing, terrifying way.”
Cal’s heart lightened as if a great load had been lifted. “Oh, how you read my mind and stole that description from me word for word.”
After the emotional outpouring that occurred, Cal was glad when she and Maggie decided to stay in and watch a movie together. In a silent mutual agreement, they didn’t talk of what they discussed earlier in the evening. The rest of the night would be about normality, just the two of them having fun. They started their DVD, threw a bag of popcorn in the microwave, and lazed on the living room’s sofa in something that approximated happiness.
Her troubles were not over, far from it, in fact. Still, she was determined to find peace where she could and would make the most of this night. She didn’t know when she might get the chance to have another such evening but had the feeling it would come none too soon.
During the following week, Cal settled back into a semi-rigid routine while she could. Time ticked down to the day when she wouldn’t have any control. She just felt it and would’ve bet her favorite guitar, her only guitar, on it. But there was some solace in knowing she wasn’t crazy.
She went to classes and field experiences, wrote papers, practiced and rehearsed for her private lessons and her upcoming performances. Work was stuffed somewhere between studying and sleep. While she maintained this hectic clip throughout the next couple weeks, she kept her intruding thoughts to a minimum. The coming storm would soon sweep away this time of clear skies.
Her dreams of Relian returned and remained constant, but the mist didn’t pay her another visit. They were almost calming in their consistency. The reliability of timing and uniformity of content became a familiar presence in her life. It became a time she strangely looked forward to after a tough, challenging day.
***
Relian’s pacing reached a frantic level, but at least he hid away in the privacy of his own chambers where no one could look upon this behavior. The beige rug under his boots muffled any sound that may have escaped the room.
He was more than upset. Distraught was the word, and over a mortal. These thoughts settled over him like a wave of cold water and caused him to stumble. Relian swore his feet had grown a few sizes too large. His body, as well as his mind, no longer functioned under his control.
How could he feel the way he did? He hardly knew the human girl. And she hadn’t seemed to be enjoying herself at that party a few days ago. She promptly stopped wandering hands from roaming to inappropriate places—his places. After the dance—if that gyrating could be termed that—was over, she’d walked away without a backward glance. Those were not the actions of a woman who sought out attention. Relian would know. He’d been the focused object of such affections countless times.
He’d never been attracted, physically or mentally, to an eivai to the extent of wanting to bond. At his age, he’d all but given up on finding the one who would be his complete-bond mate.
Even his father had never found his own, but wanting an heir, he’d made Relian’s mother his queen. But they were never complete-bond mates. That was what had kept his father sane, whole, and alive after her death. Many of those in total bonds weren’t so fortunate.
Relian had assumed he would either follow his father’s lead, choosing an incomplete bond, or none at all. An ironic snort escaped his mouth. His complete-bond mate hadn’t existed in Eria for the simple reason she was human. Why would fate play this trick on hi
m? In his most outlandish thoughts, he’d never imagined such a thing. He could only foresee problems if he brought her here.
A despairing laugh welled up in his chest. Even if, once here, she agreed to break the binding, he didn’t know if he could do so. Every fiber in his being cried out for it to be completed, to be whole. It was the nature of the binding. That was why, in all the history of his people, he could count on two hands all the bindings that had been undone, and there would still be fingers left.
He had to bring her here or face the consequences. Otherwise, he would never be the same again. Closing his eyes, he sought to block the truth but couldn’t. Regardless of which course he chose, nothing would ever be the same.
The tantalizing idea of fresh air and battle swept over him. He threw on appropriate clothes and sought out the person who would give him both.
Relian soon found what he sought on the training grounds. He sparred with Kenhel, while the other soldiers either looked on or practiced whichever art of war that called to them. In a wide-open space, he worked his mind and body in an intricate dance. The human, for once, didn’t take up all his thoughts. He could also drop his guard, that stiff formality he often adopted because of his station, age, and race.
His and Kenhel’s sword work was renowned to be some of the best in the land. They were not far behind in archery. As young elves they’d often competed with each other for any honor, be it a run to the kitchens in the effort to get the first sweet cake to taking part in a formal competition.
While they both participated in such rivalry, neither one normally cared which one came away with the prize. Instead, they honed their skills on each other. It didn’t hurt that they usually had an entertaining, if not challenging, time in their endeavors.
On this early afternoon day, they’d been sparring for well over two hours. Relian didn’t foresee signs of abatement anytime soon, though both he and Kenhel were hot and perspiring.
Kenhel sent him a wicked smile and feinted to the right before spinning behind him. Relian, quite familiar with this maneuver of Kenhel’s, was not distracted from his target. By the time he turned, his friend would be ready to deliver blow after blow. Relian was ready.
“Still using that tired old trick, hmm?” questioned Relian mockingly.
A mock look of outrage painted Kenhel’s face. “I almost knocked the sword from your hand with the strength of my blows, you old elf. I swear if I didn’t know better, I would think you were getting old and decrepit like a human.”
Relian faltered for a moment but quickly recovered. That last remark hit a little too close for comfort. He pivoted around to miss a swing aimed at his shoulder. “If I am getting old, then you’re surely following behind. After all, you are only five years younger.”
Kenhel blocked a blow and whirled to put some space between them. “Oh yes, we’re both nearing our decline.”
“You will certainly be meeting your decline at the end of my sword.”
“I would like to see that, old man.”
Again, his friend’s words snagged on something in his mind. Cal was by no means old, but she would age…. This time, Kenhel caught on when Relian didn’t recover soon enough. He halted his attack and raised an arched eyebrow at Relian, his way of asking if something was wrong. Relian shook his head, implying he didn’t want to discuss it right now.
The weight of his friend’s gaze bore down upon him. Because they’d been close friends since childhood, Kenhel would be able to sense a change within him. His friend was worried and hadn’t hid his delight when Relian made the time to come out to the training grounds today. Of course, it helped that the king previously insisted Relian take the rest of the afternoon to “have recess and play.” Relian had given a small snort at this but complied because he longed for some physical exertion. He just found it distasteful when his father treated him like an errant child who needed permission to go about his day.
They finished their match—a draw. He and Kenhel washed their face and hands with water the servants had provided. After toweling off, they walked back toward the silver-stone palace to find some food before heading out on a short ride. Most of the disquiet that had been blissfully absent returned. He frowned. Even the beauty of the grounds and buildings didn’t soothe him.
He and Kenhel stepped into an arched doorway that led to a hallway partially open to the air. Trees grew among and into the architecture, blending nature with civilization, but he found no pleasure in the sight. As he removed his left vambrace from his forearm, the movement pulled the sleeve of his green tunic up above his wrist.
Kenhel reached a hand out to touch the binding. “What is this?”
Relian gave him an incredulous look and yanked down his sleeve. “You know what this is.”
His friend turned a perturbed stare on him and narrowed his eyes. “You know what I mean. Where did this come from, or should I say from whom?”
His evasiveness wouldn’t work for long, but he still turned a blank face to his friend. “I know not from where it came. At least, not for sure.”
“What?” Kenhel practically exploded. “How can you not know? It cannot just”—he snapped his fingers—“appear like that.”
“Strange things have been happening. The veil has been busy.”
“We all know that.” Kenhel rolled his eyes. “Stop trying to sound like one of our cockamamie Mystics who say much but, in reality, nothing at all. Or better yet, stop sounding like an elf.”
Relian gave his friend a long-suffering glare that conveyed he thought Kenhel a fool for not understanding his vague explanation. “No, I mean the veil has been interfering in my life.”
“How so? The veil, to my knowledge, doesn’t toy with an individual’s fate. I don’t know what’s happening to our world if that indeed has occurred.”
Relian ripped his sleeve up again and shoved the binding under his friend’s nose. “This! With this.”
Kenhel shot him a doubtful look. “How can it be responsible for your binding? Such a thing has to be mutually agreed upon by both parties.”
The blatant skepticism in his friend’s tone told Relian he had a long story ahead of him. He gave a tired sigh mingled with exasperation. “I don’t know how or why, but the veil has exerted its influence here.”
“I fail to understand why the veil would want you to bond with an eivai so desperately. To be sure, such a bond is a very special thing, but it has never forced a binding between two people. That”— Kenhel pointed at the binding bracelet—“couldn’t have appeared on your wrist all by itself.”
“The binding was there a few days ago when I woke up.” The hardest part of the story was yet to come. In spite of his self-confidence, he did something he rarely, if ever, did. He mumbled. “It is not an eivai from Eria or Vieria.” He waited to see how Kenhel would take that news. Fortunately, he didn’t have to wait long.
“Not an eivai from Eria or Vieria? Where are there other eivain, if not in these places? Unless the veil wants you to bond with someone from another fey species, your choices are limited.”
Relian sighed again. Kenhel would fail to see the other possibilities. “It is not an eivai or another fey species. It’s a human.”
“What?” Kenhel’s voice rose. “A human? It can’t be a human, at least a full-blooded one, for there are none here.”
“I said it was not a person of Eria.” Relian’s voice sounded weary to his own ears.
“Where else could….” Kenhel trailed off. “It is a person from...Earth?” He whispered this idea as if it were a poisonous animal he had to handle carefully.
“That’s exactly what I mean.”
“How do you know for sure? I believe there must be many details you’ve left out because I can’t see how you’re aware of all this.” Kenhel gave him a look that demanded confirmation and clarification.
“There are many things I haven’t told a soul. If you wish to discuss this further, let us go to the kitchen for our supplies. We can speak about th
is while we ride. I desire privacy when talking about such matters.”
Kenhel nodded. “That’s understandable. Let’s go before the afternoon is gone.”
Once in the countryside, away from prying ears, Relian began his story. Kenhel listened, his eyes wide and his lips parted, and hardly even bothered to guide his horse on the trail. Relian knew his story sounded fantastical, but his friend believed him. Kenhel’s expressions played over his face, leaving no doubt of that fact. Although his friend could apply that mask of elvin inscrutability as well as Relian when needed, he often didn’t do so around close family members and friends. It was a side of Kenhel that Relian had always appreciated.
The story finished, Kenhel shook his head, awe written across his features. “Simply amazing, my friend! Leave it to you to liven up this place when I’ve been trying to do so for centuries.” He threw a pout at Relian before growing serious. “Have you thought about looking in the main library for any information or prophecy on the veil? How about the smaller studies and libraries that litter the palace?”
Relian shook his head. “There’s been much research done because of the recent rending of the veil. I know there’s nothing of help. Besides, we were both there for the forming of the veil, even though we were very young. We would’ve certainly heard about a case like mine involving a human had there been one.”
“That’s true, but there were a few humans who crossed over with us before the veil’s final closing. Some, albeit not many, Erians have human blood.”
“But as you said, all this happened before the final closing of the veil. Anyone with human blood, even a smattering, will have gained our longevity, if they’re still alive, that is. But this isn’t important to the discussion.”
“You’ll soon have to tell your father. Otherwise, he will find out somehow. It won’t be a peaceful scene if he learns of it through gossip or some other means. He has quite the temper, which I am afraid you inherited from him. Thank the heavens you two rarely display even a portion of it.”
