Bound by the Mist (Mists of Eria)

by Kumar, Lisa

  A voice drew her back to the present. “The training grounds are to our right. This is where our warriors practice and hone their skills.” Relian withdrew one hand from behind his back, where he had them neatly folded, and pointed to his right.

  She spotted many elves sparring or practicing their archery on the ranges. “The study of weaponry is popular here?” If so, was it out of need, or merely an art form they sought to perfect?

  “Sword and bow are two weapons we favor. Alas, while it is a form of art like any other, it is one we take no delight in when it comes to actual warfare. Sadly, we have use for it as the latter.”

  “You have wars here?” She itched to slap herself for sounding so stupid, but the thought of there being actual enemies for these elves to fight terrified her. Who would appear more frightening—the elves or their enemies? She shuddered. If what she saw on the green displayed what the average elf warrior could do, she wanted no part of it and could only wish the elves’ foes luck. They would need it. It wasn’t that the elves’ fought with barbarism. The opposite was true. These warriors battled in a ruthlessly intricate dance with absolutely no feeling, no mercy.

  “Why do you shudder, my lady? Don’t humans wage war any longer?” he asked softly, leveling steady eyes on her.

  She struggled to follow his words. For all they were simple, they left her to flounder in their meaning. “I...of course, we have war. The layperson normally doesn’t see it practiced in person, at least where I’m from,” she finished lamely. Why did he stare so intently?

  After watching her for a few more seconds, he swept his gaze back over the training green. “Then you are fortunate. Once viewed, it’s not something one should forget. What you see here is nothing like true war. Never forget that, my lady. This is nothing but a parody.”

  Finding herself spellbound by the cadence of his solemn voice, she stumbled over a stone skewed by the roots of a tree. Strong arms banded around her waist, saving her from yet another fall. He made a chiding sound as he gently deposited her back on her feet. “There you go again. I’m always saving you from the ground.”

  She couldn’t deny this, no matter how much she wanted to. Her face heated. “How humiliating!” she muttered under her breath, hoping he didn’t hear her.

  His sudden laugh told her he had. “Never fear, my dear, you are quite charming to catch.”

  Cal raised a hand to her cheek. The skin radiated heat and felt impossibly warm. Please, would the mist appear and swallow her before she made a bigger fool of herself?

  “Nay, let’s have none of that.” He gently pulled her hand away and held them lightly between his own. When she tried to tug them from his grasp, his grip tightened but not uncomfortably so. Forcing herself to look from where she’d found an interesting spot on the ground, her eyes met his. Immediately, she wished she hadn’t. While he remained outwardly calm, his gaze stripped her naked with an intenseness that scared yet excited.

  He leaned in, his breath fluttering on her lips. His hands slid up underneath the sleeves of her gown and left a trailing wake of sparks. Was there some jacked-up faery dust glowing on her skin? There had to be for her to tingle like she did. Her gaze zeroed in on his mouth, that delicious, firm mouth. Would his lips incite the same sensation as his fingertips? God, she wanted to know.

  He blinked, and then as suddenly as it had come, the moment passed. Whatever he’d experienced, he tamped down, and his gaze skimmed over the archery range. Her haze dissipated, and an odd disappointment settled in at the fact she hadn’t gotten her kiss. She should be rejoicing. They weren’t even in a proper place for a make-out session. And while her hormones were ready to roll, she wasn’t.

  “Shall we finish our tour?” Before she could offer up a response, he released her hands and placed one on his forearm. He led her away in silence. Their conversation grew stilted as they toured the rest of the grounds before heading to the village.

  The town formed a ring that enclosed the palace, with the palace lands serving as a buffer that stretched over a mile deep. The immaculately clean village bustled with activity. A vaguely medieval feel suffused the place, yet that was not the accurate term at all. There wasn’t a precise way to describe it. The houses and shops, made of white or cream-colored wood and stone, shouted out gracefulness. Their smooth lines continued the theme that ran throughout the palace and its grounds. There didn’t appear to be anything ugly in Eria.

  When she said as much to Relian, he nodded. “We elves like beauty surrounding us. That would likely be our main vanity, if one could be so assigned to us as a whole.”

  Cal’s brow furrowed. “There are worse things to be vain about, I suppose. For such a seemingly perfect race, I’m surprised you would admit to any faults at all.”

  “Ah, who says vanity is a fault?” he said seriously, though a teasing light gleamed in his eyes. As if he noticed her face darkening, he laughed but with no true humor. That mysterious light faded from his eyes, leaving her to wonder if it had ever been there. He held his hands out in a placating manner. “Who said we are perfect? I don’t believe any here would claim we are.”

  “Oh.” She shook her head. What was up with his changes in mood and demeanor? He could switch with astonishing speed from complete reserve to gently teasing and then back again. She wasn’t used to such behavior from a man—one that seemed to dislike her one moment and more than tolerated her the next. Women’s purported mood swings certainly had nothing on his. Did elvin men suffer from PMS?

  Confusion, it appeared, was going to be a normal state for her here. As a straightforward person who considered herself even-tempered, Cal hated the mind-games so popular among her peers. This “what you see is what you get” philosophy had worked for her.

  Here, everything seemed so foreign and distant to her, as if she viewed a distorted image through a camera lens she couldn’t bring into focus. The picture would come closer only to retreat, taking any clarity she gained.

  So now she walked alone with Relian. Well, not exactly alone. People—elves—surrounded them on all sides. She swam in a sea of elves. Again, as so many times since he had come into her life and dreams, she fought down the manic giggling that wanted to break free from her throat. If she started laughing now, she’d sound demented. They didn’t need another reason to look askance at her. Her humanity seemed to be doing a perfect job of that on its own.

  When virtually everyone in the town stopped to stare at her and Relian, any hope of her situation improving slipped away. Their gazes felt accusing, as if she’d no business being there, especially with their beloved prince. Could she blame them? She was the lone human in the area, if one discounted Maggie.

  How was Maggie faring? Did her friend feel as conspicuous as she did? If Maggie had returned to their rooms, there was the distinct possibility she might be bored. If so, Cal wished she could switch places. Being with a prince was a highly overrated thing.

  Chapter 17

  “How did it go? Get any smooches?” Maggie asked, her cheeks unusually bright against the backdrop of her chamber.

  “Maggie!” Cal narrowed her eyes and shot her friend a look.

  “What? Come on, that’s the question burning in everyone’s mind, and you know it.”

  Cal rolled her eyes and crossed her arms before throwing herself down on Maggie’s bed. “Yeah, I’m sure it’s preying on every elf here. I know it’s certainly not burning in my mind. I want none, especially from him.”

  Maggie grinned maniacally, color still staining her cheeks. “Like you want them from any other elf.” A thoughtful look covered her face. “Though you’d be hard-pressed to find a truly ugly guy here from what I’ve seen, so it couldn’t be all bad. But yeah, you find him so distasteful, you watch every smile and frown of his voraciously. Makes a lot of sense to me. You’re fooling no one, least of all me.”

  Deflated, Cal couldn’t come up with a good rebuttal. Her attraction to Relian was pathetically clear, and Maggie knew how strongly he drew her. Aft
er learning the truth, she’d been by Cal’s side, helping her cope with the dreams and their accompanying emotions.

  Cal sought to change the subject to something safer—at least safer for her. “What are you flushed about?”

  Maggie exploded from the bed and started to pace around. “That rat!”

  Confusion hit Cal. What was going on? “Kenhel? Or Relian because he didn’t kiss me?”

  Maggie stopped in her tracks, and her shoulders shook. Now concern ran forefront in Cal’s mind. Just as she rose to offer Maggie comfort, her friend faced her. She was laughing, not crying.

  Her friend must’ve noticed her bewilderment, because she started guffawing. In between her snorts, she managed to get out, “Like I’m mad at Relian for not kissing you. Please! As for Kenhel, I haven’t even seen him since this morning. No, I’m talking about a truly insufferable rat bastard.”

  At her bitter tone, Cal had more than a niggling idea of who the person might be. Who else could get Maggie riled up so? “Is it the person I think it is?”

  “If you’re thinking it’s the...the thing your boyfriend calls a father, you’re right.”

  Cal forced down a sigh. “What did you do now?”

  “Me?” Maggie sniffed in outrage. “More like what did the King of Asses do.”

  A headache with her name on it was knocking at the door. She was sure of it. “Okay then, what did he do?” Cal paused in her questioning and smirked at Maggie. Wanting a little revenge for the drama sure to come, she pointed out a flaw in the description of the king. “I bet his parents were married or bonded, so the bastard part is probably wrong.”

  Narrowing her eyes, her friend grumbled, “That wasn’t how I meant it. You know that.” Maggie glanced away, a tactic that cried guilt.

  Cal hated to ask but knew she had to find out. “You did, didn’t you? To his face? Maggie, he’s the king, and we don’t know the rules or etiquette here.”

  Her friend had the good grace to look shamed-faced. “Well, I may have said it in slightly different words, but the gist was the same.”

  Cal closed her eyes. “How did he respond?”

  Maggie flung up her hands and resumed her pacing. “He just laughed and walked away. How dare he!”

  “How dare he what? Walk away instead of ordering your head lopped off? That would’ve been preferable to you? What did you expect him to do? He probably had to ignore what you said, so he wouldn’t have to punish you somehow.”

  Maggie blanched. “You think so?”

  “I don’t know. But he’s king and historically most have demanded respect, at least back on Earth. As the society here seems traditional, like something we might’ve seen hundreds of years ago, I would guess he is a king in every sense it entails. I doubt he’s a figurehead. Why didn’t you stop and think? You’re normally brighter than this.”

  Maggie’s shoulders slumped. “I can’t seem to keep my cool around him. I don’t plan on acting juvenile, but he brings it out in me.”

  “Because you rise to the occasion admirably. I believe he gets a kick out of seeing you act like this. Just be careful you don’t push him too far.”

  Maggie agreed quickly. “I’ll try my best to keep a level head, so I don’t lose the one on my shoulders.”

  Cal rubbed her forehead. “Yeah, I think that’s wise.”

  Maggie perched on the bed by Cal. “Hey, have you noticed anything peculiar?”

  “Peculiar?” She gave Maggie a disbelieving stare. “What peculiar happening could you possibly be referring to? After all, I think everything ranks up there pretty high in peculiar-ness.”

  Now Maggie rolled her eyes. “I meant above and beyond the normal strangeness that being here brings. For instance, the language—have you noticed anything strange about it?”

  Understanding overtook Cal, along with a measure of relief. Maggie, too, had noticed. “Their language used to sound like English to me. Still does to some degree, I guess, because I can follow what everyone is saying. But now it takes a lot of concentration. It’s almost as if I’m listening to a foreign language that I have to translate into English before I can comprehend what they’re saying. I take it the same thing’s happening to you?”

  “Unfortunately, yes.” Maggie chewed her bottom lip. “We seem to be losing our ability to understand. At least, that’s how I see it.”

  “That’s crossed my mind more than once. It’s the only explanation I can think of that makes sense.” Cal snorted, looking down. “Not that it really makes sense, you know?”

  “Oh, I hear you. I totally know what you mean.” Maggie bumped her shoulder against hers, eliciting a grimace, though Cal didn’t move away. The contact comforted her. They sat there for a few moments, silent.

  Cal didn’t want to be left to her own thoughts. “Still happy you joined me on this little adventure, one that may never end?”

  A look of mock admonishment spread over Maggie’s features. “Of course, I don’t regret it! How can you even ask?”

  She gave Maggie a naughty grin. “Well, you do have to brave the King of Rat Asses while you’re here with me.”

  “Yes, that’s a trial. Still, it’s nothing overly major.” Cal sent her a knowing glance, and she hedged a bit. “Okay, maybe he’s the one person so far I’ve met here I can’t stand, but that’s nothing in the face of friendship!”

  A real laugh escaped Cal. “Just how many elves have you met? He is one of the few, I believe. Maybe if you wait, someone else will take his exulted spot.”

  “Arrhh, don’t say that! I can’t imagine anyone worse.” She shuddered. Then she brightened. “At least, he’s not going to be my father-in-law.”

  Casting up her gaze skyward, Cal scrunched up her face in annoyance. “Just for that, I think you’ll be the one to tell the king and his son about our worries concerning the language.”

  ***

  “Yes, we’ve noticed the same effect.” The king gestured to include Relian. They sat out on a terrace, and the scent of flowers and greenery permeated the air. “We fear the effects of the veil’s magic are wearing away, causing our mutual understanding of one another’s language to fade with it.”

  Relian nodded. “I believe it was only meant to last for a short time, to facilitate your transition here. Now that the initial conversations and introductions are concluded, the veil no longer sees the advantage of making the language barrier so easily overcome.”

  Cal cocked her head to the side. “How’s it an advantage if we can no longer communicate with each other?”

  Maggie threw the king an antagonistic look. “Oh, I can see the advantages.” The king merely lifted a brow, giving a ghost of a smile.

  Cal wanted to groan. They’d been acting like this all night. Fortunately, Maggie hadn’t said anything more hostile than what she’d just muttered. But who knew how long this pattern would last?

  Relian shot his father an exasperated glance before turning back to Cal. “How can you hope to learn the Elvin language if you only understand it as the English you speak? You are hearing our Elvin speech through an English filter, just as we are hearing your language through an Elvin one. As the veil apparently desires our bonding—for it has brought you here—it also seeks for you to learn the language of your future people.”

  Cal’s dismay ran through her. Why was it so important to the veil she bond with Relian? She hadn’t considered it from that aspect before, merely thinking the veil was a means of bringing her here. The veil as a distinct entity that wasn’t under the control of the elves hadn’t occurred to her, and the ramifications of it having its own agenda were sobering. What did it truly seek if it had acted independently of the elves?

  Frowning, she wanted to question the elves on her concerns but had the feeling they wouldn’t be so forthcoming in the sharing of any answers. A decided lack of information flowed from them, no matter how she and Maggie pressed. Oh, they answered any queries they both made. Only upon reflection did Cal and Maggie notice that none of the elves tr
uly answered their questions. The elves excelled at vagueness and misdirection. She wouldn’t go so far as to call it disinformation, for they didn’t seem to lie. They offered carefully placed truths, momentarily allaying any suspicion of misguidance.

  Maggie’s reasonable observation drew Cal out of her thoughts. “Since it seems we’re to be stuck here for some indefinite period, we’ll have to learn the language. I don’t like it but see no other way.”

  Everyone looked at Maggie, astonished, and she shrugged. “What? Contrary to evidence and popular belief, I’m bright enough to realize when being reasonable would be a good thing. This just so happens to be such an occasion.” She smirked at the king. “Don’t expect this to happen with any regularity.”

  Without missing a beat, the king smoothly replied, “I would expect no other behavior from you, my dear.”

  Cal cut in before Maggie rattled off whatever barb that lay on her tongue. While she didn’t want to learn the language—doing so seemed like admitting defeat in regards to going home—she realized the usefulness of it if they were stranded here. Who knew if and when the veil would decide to give them a ride back to Earth? But surely after her decision…. “So how long do we have before we can no longer understand each other?”

  Relian reached over and gently untangled her grasping fingers that threatened to strangle each other. Lifting a hand from her lap, he intertwined his fingers with hers. Electricity shot through her palm and fingers. She bit back a gasp. The sensation zoomed into her chest and down to her most private parts. The feeling was exhilarating…and scary. But she couldn’t remove her hand without making a scene.