Instructions for passive healing when there is no healer: Quickly perform a spiritual healing by singing to call the spirit. Immediately thereafter, place a double-terminated quartz on the wound or wounds. If the wound is magical in nature, place a crystal on the forehead and another on the heart. Let the elf rest until restored.
He remembered the box of crystals he’d seen on his search by the back wall. Hopping up and running to it, he searched for anything that looked like the crystals shown in the image from the book. There was nothing there. He had almost given up looking when he noticed that the box appeared deeper from the outside than it seemed on the inside. He used his ocular to scan it, and realized the container had a false bottom.
He picked up the box and felt all sides. Beneath it was a tiny button. He pressed it, but nothing happened. He opened the box again and pressed it a second time, and the top seemed to rise slightly. He pulled the top layer out, and beneath it, he found several velvet bags. The third one he opened contained many of the double-sided quartz pieces.
He took two out, put everything else back inside the box, and moved to kneel next to where Ithyll slept.
But before he placed them on her forehead and heart, he remembered the instructions: Quickly perform a spiritual healing by singing to call the spirit. He stood there for a moment in indecision. He wasn’t an elf, so he couldn’t do magic. And he wasn’t a female so he couldn’t use the crystals.
But the instructions had been very clear, and called it a spiritual healing rather than a magical healing. Who was he to say how spirit worked?
Against his will, his mind began searching for a song.
He hadn’t sung in over a year, since the Ardaks had invaded, stealing the joy from their lives. Even once they were free, there hadn’t been singing.
He thought back further, to the songs he’d sung quietly to his wife as she’d lay still and silent, just like Ithyll. But his throat closed when he thought of them. Those songs were filled with pain.
Casting his mind back further, a song came to him.
His mother had sung it to him before she died. It was one of the softest memories he had from his childhood, close to his heart. If there were a song to call the spirit, this would be the one.
Even though he was out of practice, he wanted to sing it for her.
He cleared his throat and began to sing. At first, he sang softly, his voice hoarse from disuse. The lyrics spoke of love and time, growth and loss, and as he entered the second verse, he realized he had actually lived the lyrics, knew firsthand the joy and the pain of life.
By the time he finished the song, an errant tear had broken a trail down his cheek. Looking at Ithyll’s unconscious form, he finally knew what the song meant. She was beautiful in face and form, but it was her spirit, the fire in her eyes, that was beyond her physical substance that called to him.
He wanted to bring it back.
Gently, he took two of the crystals, bringing one to his lips before placing it gently on her forehead. He repeated the gesture with the second before gently settling it on her chest just over her heart.
He didn’t believe the magic was going to work, but there was a subtle vibration, almost nonexistent, and he wondered . . .
He began to switch through vision settings on his oculars, but finally, in infrared, he could see it. Beautiful tendrils of light spread out from the crystals in a flowerlike pattern, entering her body.
He bowed his head while he watched, and slowly, the color came back into her face. Her breathing evened out, and he could tell she fell into a regular sleep.
Valdjan left the crystals where they were and sat beside her, taking her hand in his and laying his forehead on it. Paradiso had told him to take care of her, that his time was almost finished and he wouldn’t be able to protect her. What did that mean?
All Valdjan knew was that he’d vowed to keep her safe, and he wasn’t doing a very good job so far.
“Valdjan!”
The sound caused him to jump at the same time as Ithyll bolted upright. “I’m here.”
“The test!”
“I know,” he said in a soothing voice. “But stopping that wave took a lot out of you.”
She looked down at the crystals, which had fallen into her lap, and then turned her golden eyes to him. “Did you do this?”
“Yes. Paradiso helped me find your book of spells. I don’t know if it helped or not.”
“That was really . . . sweet.” She shook her head, as if surprised that someone would want to help her. “And they did help. Even if you couldn’t do magic, these crystals would have helped me heal myself faster.”
Her eyes found his. “Thank you.”
He leaned down and brushed his lips over her forehead, the gesture almost instinctive for him. His fear for her had been real, and relief that she was all right filled his chest with warmth. “I’m glad the crystals helped.”
“Yes.” She gathered them into her hand before standing. “Now we have to get you back into the test.”
He caught her when she swayed slightly, his happiness at her awakening changing as he reveled in the feeling of her pressed up against him. “I think a cup of tea is probably in order first.”
“Yes.” She pressed her head against his chest briefly. “It’s going to take another few minutes, I’m afraid.”
They parted, and he placed her hand in the crook of his elbow and led her to the table. Then he went to the fireplace, where the pot hung above. Everything was still damp, but the next moment, it was dry and a fire began to burn. He turned back to her. “Did you do that?”
“Yes, it was a simple task. It didn’t require much magic, but I wouldn’t be able to do this entire cave just yet. The tea leaves are to the left.”
The pot was full of water from the wave, which thankfully hadn’t been from the ocean, and he waited for it to boil before grabbing a mug and ladling a good portion into it and dropping the leaves on top. On second thought, he also took one for himself.
She sipped some of the tea and then tilted her head, her golden eyes swirling as she took him in. “I dreamed I heard you. Singing.”
He set his mug on the table and shifted uncomfortably. “The instructions said to sing a song.”
Her hand reached out to cover his for a moment. “It was beautiful. And full of power.”
He inclined his head. “My mother used to sing it.”
She pulled her hand away, but not as quickly as before, and he saw her cheeks pinken.
“Paradiso said to tell you he was here but that he had to leave. He said he would find out what the mermen are doing.”
Ithyll’s gaze fell, the corners of her mouth turning down in sorrow. “He’s been leaving more often lately.”
Valdjan remembered what the bird had said, that his time here was almost finished. What did that mean? He felt gratitude for the bird who had helped him find the book, and hoped he didn’t have to leave for good. “Perhaps he has other things to do. But I know he cares for you. He said he would come back again later to check on you. And you have me now, as well.”
Her lips parted slightly and her face lightened for a moment. “I do, don’t I?”
He nodded, and they sat in silence while finishing the tea.
Once both their mugs were empty, she reached for the crystal.
He put his hand over hers. “I’m worried about you. What if they try something else while I’m in the test and you haven’t regained enough of your strength to stop them? Should we go somewhere else?”
She smiled wanly. “I couldn’t leave the cave even if I wanted to, but if I managed it, the tests wouldn’t work.”
“Really?” He supposed he shouldn’t have been surprised at that, but he was.
“Yes,” she admitted, looking down at her hands. “Most of my magic comes from the crystals. Once I hand the care of the crystal cave to the champion, I go back to being my regular self.”
“Which is probably still pretty special,” he added and wa
tched her cheeks turn pink again.
“Just like you,” she commented softly. “The best way to proceed is to let you finish the tests as soon as possible. You have just under half your time left, and I’m confident you can do it.”
Her confidence buoyed his spirits, but he was torn between hurrying back into the test and protecting her in case the mermen tried to harm her another way. That wave had made him realize that the threat against her was very real, and the next time could easily be fatal.
Finally, he nodded. “All right. But please don’t open that entrance for anything. And call me back out if you feel in danger in any way.”
She nodded, and he stood, brushing his lips across her forehead.
“All right. I’m ready.”
She built her magic and gave a tiny wave as he disappeared back into the crystal again.
***
He reappeared inside his shuttle, and tried to remember what he was doing. Right. He was supposed to talk to Lord Ha’avel.
But as he was approaching the hatch, it burst open to reveal Elberos. “Where the vok have you been?” he cried frantically. “The council is reconvening right now!”
“I was called back to my time for a while. There was a . . . problem.” Valdjan spun Elberos around and pushed him toward the building. The both sprinted toward it, and once inside, Elberos led him directly to the chamber.
The elf turned to him, straightening his shirt. “I tried to talk to the others, but none of them would see me without you. Traako. I hope you can do this. Good luck.”
Then he opened the door and pushed Valdjan inside. The other ten elves were already seated, watching him.
“Lord Ilphthal,” Tahlavel said icily. “We’ve been waiting for you.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Ithyll
Ithyll started in shock when she saw the head of the elven council, almost inadvertently pulling Valdjan from the test.
Her father.
Her chest grew tight, and moisture pooled on her lashes. It had been so long since she’d seen his face. His golden eyes.
She wished she hadn’t missed the first part of the test, as she had no idea what was happening. With wide eyes bright with unshed tears, she watched the scene play out.
Valdjan gave an exaggerated nod and took his seat. “I apologize for my tardiness.”
Her father—Tahlavel—cleared his throat. “As you know, we are all gathered here to decide the fate of the portals, and along with them, the fate of those on the connected planets.” He consulted his notes. “Public polling has the public against us, with 79 percent wanting to keep them open and 21 percent wanting to close them. As you know, public opinion can be flawed, and in cases like this one, it is up to us to make the right decision.”
The door suddenly burst open.
“I wish to address the council,” a strong, feminine voice intoned, and Valdjan’s eyes went straight to her.
Ithyll’s own shock knifed through her again when she also saw her mother striding through the doorway. Her eyes began to blur, and she had to focus twice as hard to keep the test going. Tears began to stream down her face as her mother entered the council room, followed by another elf.
It’s me.
But she’d never been to the council, and her mother had never called her back. So, Valdjan’s actions must have forced the tests to veer from history into some type of alternate reality. She couldn’t take her eyes from her younger version, one full of life. Full of excitement. She hardly remembered feeling that way, but knew she had when she’d first come to Aurora.
Her mother glided smoothly to the front of the room, her back straight.
Her father was clearly lost for words. Weakly, he sat and gave his mate the floor.
“Thank you,” Tuhlann acknowledged him, a small smile on her lips. “After an unexpected meeting with Lord Ilphthal today—” she inclined her head at Valdjan “—I took the liberty of summoning my daughter from Aurora. I believe that, in your quest for security, you are denying the very thing that has made us what we are—freedom. Freedom to explore, to pursue other worlds, freedom to discover and to grow as a species.”
Ithyll was shaken to the core by her mother’s words. She remembered her father denying her request to go off-planet. Remembered defying him. But her mother had been quiet—maintaining a relationship with both of them until one day the portal had stopped working, and they lost touch with the other side.
She watched her younger self step up beside her mother.
“I have come to beg you not to close the portals. To find another way.” Her younger self glanced briefly at her father. “My father is angry that I defied him, that I went to Aurora against his wishes. But despite that, I can’t believe he would want to lose me forever.” She paused, looking at each of them. “And that is what will happen if you don’t stop this madness. How many other people will lose their daughters? Their sons? Sisters. Brothers. Mates. We aren’t just talking about a few elves. There are complete outposts on those planets. Over a hundred thousand elves will be separated from their families.”
At that moment, a pain Ithyll had never known ripped through her. She realized that her father had been the one to lead the council in the decision to close the portals.
He had stranded her here on Aurora. And all the elves on the other planets.
How could he?
Her father had always been her favorite person in the world. Had her betrayal hurt him that much? She wanted to stop the test, didn’t want to hear any more.
But at the same time, she had to let Valdjan finish it.
Her father finally seemed to find his voice. “And many of the elves in those outposts also went against the wishes of their loved ones.”
Her mother faced her father, her voice kind. “And for exercising their free will and embracing the freedom we hold in such high esteem, they should die? Or be exiled? Isn’t the duty of a parent to support their children, even when they don’t agree with their choices?”
For a moment, her father’s expression softened.
“This isn’t something you can come back from, my love. Once Ithyll is gone, she’s gone forever.” Her mother’s voice hardened. “And she’s already said that if the portals are closed, she will return to Aurora before they do.”
Her father looked at her younger self as if he’d been crushed. He sank back into his chair.
Valdjan faced the others on the council and surveyed them carefully, so she did as well. Some looked convinced, but she could tell others were wavering.
As she watched, Valdjan slowly stood. “The elves who left Melamar first were like Ithyll. The best and brightest of us, the most curious. The bravest. Those with the most passion and love for their people. Those are the people who explore, the people who conquer new frontiers for our empire. They are the ones you will be cutting off if you close the portals.” He paused and his face filled with pain. “I have seen a lot of lives go in my lifetime, and I can tell you that the regret you feel doesn’t abate. The hole in your heart never leaves. And if you make the decision to cut off half your people, you will never be the same.”
There was complete silence, and many of the elder elves shared glances.
When no one spoke, Valdjan went on. “In addition, I have read the files on these planets, and I believe I know what’s causing the mutations in the magical creatures.”
This got everyone’s attention, and they started lobbing questions at Valdjan.
“You do?”
“What is it?”
“Can it be stopped?”
Valdjan raised his hand for silence. “The crystals on certain planets have interacted with the energy from the brown and white dwarf stars in their binary systems. Together, they have magnified the energy from the generals of each planet, and creatures on these planets are evolving into beings that range from passive to extremely aggressive.”
“You can see it here.” He pushed a button and flashed a screen from his LINK device up onto
the main screen. “This is the chart with the benevolent magical creatures, and the malevolent magical creatures, their star systems, and their generals.”
Everyone was silent for several moments, confused looks on most of their faces. Then the room erupted into chaos. Everyone spoke at once, elves were yelling over each other, and Valdjan was trying to figure out what was going on.
That was why he didn’t see the elf coming toward him until it was too late; although, Ithyll saw it through the crystal and screamed. She tried to pull him out, but the test refused to relinquish him.
The elf thrust his sword straight into Valdjan’s abdomen, and Ithyll watched him collapse. She felt dizzy, as if she might collapse herself. Valdjan couldn’t die. He just couldn’t.
Other council members had worked together and used their magic to apprehend the elf, who was screaming at Valdjan. “This is your fault! Your fault!”
Ithyll didn’t recognize him or know whether he was angry about the vote or the scientific information.
“Security! Healers!” her father yelled into his wrist com.
Two armored elves burst into the room, looked around for the reason they had been called, and then shot to where Valdjan was collapsing onto the floor. They grabbed the elf, who was still holding the bloody knife, and dragged him from the room.
Her father strode to Valdjan, hauling him up to sit in his chair.
“Call the vote,” Valdjan croaked.
“Are you sure? The healers are coming.”
Valdjan met her father’s eyes. “No, we need to vote.”
“Attention!” Her father called. “Let’s have the vote! All in favor of closing the portals, raise your right hand.” The room went entirely still.
“Then it’s settled. The portals will remain open and we will investigate the properties of the stars.”
She caught a glimpse of her younger self rushing to Valdjan and her father, but she didn’t have time to watch anymore and cursed as Valdjan reappeared and fell to the floor, blood spurting from his side. The angle of the knife had been steep, the wound deep. The elf had been aiming to kill.
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