by Pati Nagle
I sang the “Amen” of the chant, then fell silent. Madóran stood motionless, wreathed in golden light. Savhoran’s fingers relaxed in my hand.
For a long time we were still. My hand was going to sleep, but I didn’t want to disturb Savhoran by moving it. At last Madóran stepped back, and I withdrew at the same time.
He was frowning, dissatisfied. I adjusted the blankets and waited for instructions. Madóran turned away, going to the counter and collecting his tools. I gathered up all the used cloths and Savhoran’s shirt while Madóran filled a tray. I poured water into the glass I’d brought and left it within Savhoran’s reach.
He hadn’t moved, and his forehead was contorted with pain. I felt helpless, and wished I knew better what to do for him.
Madóran opened the door, and I followed him out, bringing the laundry. He paused to close the door, then stood with his hand on it for a moment. He looked worried.
“What is it?” I whispered.
He looked at me. “I may have been too late.”
It frightened me even though I didn’t fully understand what would happen if he was right. I swallowed.
“You did everything you could.”
He nodded. “But that does not make failure easier.”
“Maybe you didn’t fail.”
“Time will tell.”
He turned away, heading down the portal. I followed him to the laundry room, where I put the cloths and shirt into the washer. Remembering my own laundry, I rinsed my hands in the work sink. Madóran made room for me.
“Did you get a chance to eat?” I asked.
“Yes, earlier.”
“Anything else I can do?”
He glanced up at me. “No. Thank you, Lenore. You have been a great help.”
This was gratifying, though I suspected he could have done without me. I started to pull my things out of the dryer.
“I would not have done as well without you. You have an instinct for healing.”
Blushing, I mumbled a thank-you, and with my arms full of laundry, headed back to my room. I yawned, and wondered what time it was. Dead phone and no clocks in the place that I knew of. It didn’t matter, I guessed.
Putting away the clothes took all of three minutes. I was tired, but I didn’t want to turn in yet.
The fire had died down to coals, so I scooped them together with the poker and added a couple of pieces of wood, then coaxed a flame out of them by blowing on the coals. I sat there warming my hands until I was sure it wouldn’t go out.
There were only three pieces of wood left in the bin. Have to get more tomorrow. The woodpile was outside the house—I’d seen it as I was driving in, a huge wall of cut firewood stacked along the driveway as it continued into the property. I would have to ask for an escort while I fetched wood.
I glanced toward the open door. I wanted to see Caeran, to reassure myself that I hadn’t imagined his interest. Silly, I knew, but I was bedazzled and insecure.
He was probably in the front room with the others. I hadn’t seen any of them walking around, so I assumed the great debate was back in session. I went out and along the portal to the north door into the room, and listened.
Voices. Not as strident as before. I opened the door a crack and peeked through.
Everyone but Savhoran was there. Madóran leaned against the wall beside the door into the entryway. Caeran sat with Tiruli by the fire, holding her hand.
My hackles rose. I told myself he was just comforting her. She did look pretty glum; staring at the floor instead of paying attention to the discussion.
One of the men was talking, his back to me. I looked away from Caeran and started listening to what the speaker was saying.
“We cannot afford to wait. We know how to lure him here; let us do it.”
“It would place her in deadly danger,” said Nathrin. Mirali, beside him, shot him a glance that I couldn’t read.
“We can protect her,” said the first guy.
He was one of the ones I hadn’t met until recently, and I had completely spaced his name. Annoyed with myself, I looked at each face in the room in turn and tried to remember the name that went with it. Nathrin and Mirali were easy. Tiruli next to Caeran, and the guy sitting on her other side was Lomen. Faranin I remembered because it reminded me of Faramir. The guy with his back to me was Bir—Bir—something.
Caeran was frowning. “It is not our decision. She is not some lesser creature to be used as we will. The choice must be hers.”
“If you asked her, she might be inclined to agree,” said Bir-whatever.
Caeran’s eyes narrowed, and I began to have a bad feeling that they were talking about me. Madóran’s head came up, and he looked straight at me.
Oops. White light, white light.
“There is another possibility,” Madóran said. He was looking at the speaker now, not me. He ignored me as he went on. “Gehmanin came here seeking me. Let me serve as the lure.”
“No!” cried the others. Mirali looked alarmed and half rose from her chair. Several of them started talking at once, all protesting Madóran’s suggestion.
“Your skills are too valuable to be risked,” Nathrin said above the others. “I am sure any of us would place ourselves in danger rather than it be you.”
Madóran smiled wryly. “My skills have not been available to you for centuries. It would hardly be a loss to you.”
“Madóran, no,” said Mirali in a worried voice. “We are so grateful to have found you.”
Caeran spoke up. “Let it be me. He will want to finish our dispute.”
Madóran shook his head. “You have not recovered your strength.”
“I am well enough.”
“Gehmanin is not to be underestimated!” Madóran’s eyes flashed as his gaze swept around the gathered ælven. “You must all see that. If he was able to isolate and defeat Savhoran—”
“He was not defeated!” said Faranin. “We intervened—”
“And he may yet die, or worse!”
I heard a note of anguish in Madóran’s voice that made my heart ache. He had done all he could for Savhoran, and it might not be enough.
The shock of his shouting had silenced the others. Fear hung heavy in the room; dread of a solitary monster who had once been one of them.
I opened the door and stepped in. All eyes turned to me, and two or three of the ælven scowled. Ignoring that, I looked at Madóran.
“I thought I should ask if there’s anything I can do to help.”
“Thank you, Lenore, but this is not your battle. You must stay here in safety.”
The first speaker, Bir-something, turned to me. “Actually, there is a way you can help. We have been discussing how to lure the alben close to the house again, so that we may capture him. You could help us by showing yourself outside.”
My stomach clenched, a reaction I wasn’t expecting. Sweat broke out in my palms. The memory of my last trip outside set me trembling.
“I can do that,” I said.
Caeran shook his head, frowning. “Len, no.”
“We will be in wait, of course,” said Bir-something to me, smiling now. “You will not be harmed.”
“She was promised that before!” Caeran stood, dropping Tiruli’s hand and striding toward me. “I will not risk failing her again.”
“You could accompany her. That would improve her safety, and perhaps entice Gehmanin to come forward.”
I frowned. “Wait—no—”
“I will not let you go out alone,” Caeran said.
I bristled, but this was not the time for a discussion of my rights. I knew he meant well, and inside I was secretly pleased by his protectiveness.
“Look, how do we even know he’ll come back here? Maybe you scared him off.”
“He will return,” Madóran said. I met his gaze, and realized he was thinking of the past.
Quickly dropping that thought, I re-envisioned my shield, then turned to the instigator. Bironan—that was his name.
<
br /> “What do you plan to do when he shows up?”
He stared back at me, surprised. Apparently they hadn’t thought that far.
“If you’re outside he’ll know, won’t he? He’ll be able to sense you.”
“We can mask our khi. If we wait along the north side of the house …”
“He will sense you,” Madóran said. “He is older than any of you, unless I am mistaken. Do not underestimate him.”
“And anyway, what if he’s watching from the north?” I added.
Bironan frowned. Caeran came up beside me, his arm brushing mine and making my skin tingle.
“He may be outside even now,” he said.
“So there’s no way to set up any surprises for him.” I looked from Bironan to Madóran for confirmation. Madóran gave a grim nod. “Then whoever is going to be the cavalry will have to wait at the door, and come out as soon as he shows. When do you want to stage this?”
“By day,” Bironan said. “He will be at a disadvantage.”
“He might not approach in daylight,” Madóran said. “Before dawn or at dusk would be better.”
“Before dawn, then. If he does not come, we try again at dusk.”
Ugh. I hoped he would show up the first time. I wasn’t looking forward to this.
Caeran slid his arm around my waist. I could feel the disapproval in the room. I looked at him, and he smiled.
“At dawn, we venture out to your car.”
“Or to the woodpile. I’m almost out of firewood.”
“The woodpile,” Madóran said, suddenly intense. “He will be less likely to suspect an ambush there, and we can come at him from two directions.”
“How?” I asked. “I thought there was only one door.”
Madóran gestured to the windows, which were all tall, floor to ceiling. “These are as good as doors. The library has some as well.”
Bironan nodded. “Nathrin and Lomen can stand ready here. Faranin and I will wait in the library.”
Madóran turned to me. “You will both carry wood bins. If need be, you can use them to block him.”
I nodded, knowing that at best that would buy me a few seconds. I wasn’t about to underestimate Gehmanin, not after what I’d already seen of him.
It was a plan. Madóran and Bironan started discussing details. I’d had enough, and since I was feeling a bit paranoid in the midst of all these semi-hostile ælven, I whispered to Caeran.
“I’m going to my room. You’re welcome to join me.”
I felt the color creeping into my cheeks as I said it. He answered softly.
“I will, in a little while.”
He squeezed my waist, then let me go. Slightly dizzy, I headed toward the inner portal, and sighed with relief as I closed the door behind me.
A soft, blue light illuminated the courtyard. Moonlight, I realized. It had been dark earlier, but now the snow was all aglow, and the fountain danced glinting in the night. It was breathtaking. I stopped to watch for a while.
This was a magical place. Madóran had breathed beauty into every part of it. The more I knew of him, the more I admired and liked him. It didn’t hurt that he seemed a lot more tolerant of me than most of the others. Maybe that came from taking care of humans for a few centuries. He was used to us.
The research partnership I’d proposed to him might shift everything for the ælven. Perhaps that was an ambitious hope; Madóran might just be humoring me, but I truly believed our working together could benefit both humans and ælven enormously. If I was up to the task.
It felt good to have a mission. My life had changed drastically in the last twenty-four hours. When I got back to school I’d have to reevaluate my course load and start shifting my emphasis to pre-med.
I went to my room and sat by the fire, leaving the door open. The warmth was soothing, helping me relax. I suddenly realized I was dog tired. It must be pretty late.
Have to learn to pay more attention to the moon. Could tell time that way, maybe.
Maybe time didn’t matter so much.
It probably didn’t, to the ælven. They probably thought humans were obsessive, breaking the day into hours and minutes and seconds. We were like ants; busy all the time. The number of hours and seconds we had were limited, so it mattered to us to keep track of them.
What was it like to be immortal? It had always sounded like a fairy tale, but I was beginning to think it might be daunting, and a lot less fun than silly humans supposed.
Madóran was probably older than the others, if what he’d said about Gehmanin was true. And he seemed to feel more pain from life’s misfortunes, not less. He must have failed to save hundreds, thousands of patients over time, and yet his grief that he could do no more for Savhoran was acute.
Savhoran. I should check on him, make sure the fire hadn’t gone out. I got up and went to his room, quietly opening the door.
A sudden movement startled me and I gasped. There was someone in the room. For a heart-stopping second I thought it was the alben, then Caeran turned to me from the bed against the wall.
His eyes were wide. He glanced at Savhoran, still lying on the table, and gestured for me to be quiet. I nodded and came in, carefully picked a piece of wood out of the bin, and added it to the fire.
Savhoran stirred and muttered. I stepped to the table to look at him, though I wasn’t sure what I could do to help him.
His brow was dappled in sweat. I fetched a cloth from the cupboard and poured some cool water on it, then bathed his face. Caeran watched me, silent.
Maybe I shouldn’t have added wood to the fire. Savhoran was in a high fever, it looked like. I wasn’t sure, but I thought you were supposed to keep people warm when they were in a fever. Who knew if that applied to ælven, though.
Madóran. I hoped he’d come to check on Savhoran soon. Laying the folded cloth across Savhoran’s forehead, I stepped back and looked at Caeran.
He came to me, taking my arm and steering me toward the portal. When we were out in the cooler air, he carefully closed the door.
“Madóran asked me to stay in this room tonight, to watch over Savhoran.”
“Oh. Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.” I sighed. “It’s been a long day. I should probably get some sleep if we’re getting up at yuck o’clock.”
Caeran looked puzzled for a moment, then smiled. “May I visit with you briefly?”
“Sure.”
He offered his arm. I took it, feeling strange about this sudden stateliness. He escorted me to my room and we sat by the fire. I added a piece of wood and sat watching it catch, enjoying the crackle and the fresh heat.
Twice in the last two days I’d been attacked by Gehmanin. Tomorrow might make it three for three. I rubbed my upper arms, trying to get rid of goosebumps that had nothing to do with the temperature.
A crazy impulse to seduce Caeran right then, just in case one or both of us died tomorrow, came into my brain and made my nipples tighten. I swallowed, hiding the thought under a blanket of white light.
“Have I upset you?” he asked.
“No! No … sorry, there are just some thoughts I don’t want to share.”
He pressed his lips together, then spoke carefully. “If it is one thought you wish to protect, you need not hide them all.”
He looked at me and the yearning was in his face. Instantly my heart filled with an answering ache. I saw another meaning in his words; he wanted to touch my thoughts as he’d done before. I felt giddy just at the thought of it. Oh, how I wanted that! But I’d promised Madóran to keep his confidence.
“How do I protect one thought?”
“Take the thought and surround it with light. Layers upon layers, until it is a glowing globe. Then set that globe aside in safety.”
Sounded too simple, but what the hell. I closed my eyes and renewed my shield, then thought about my conversation with Madóran in the kitchen and swathed it in light. With each indrawn breath I added another layer of light, and the memory became an image:
a globe of light, with me and Madóran inside it, talking—or rather Madóran talking and me listening. The image began to fade as I wound more and more layers of light around the globe. Finally all I could see was the light.
Now to set it aside. I had no clue how to do that. Where to store a thought safely? My brain produced the image of a safe deposit box. The glowing globe obligingly shrank down until it would fit in the box. I closed the lid over it, slid the box into its drawer, and locked it with my key.
Maybe that would work, or maybe it was futile, but at least I’d tried. No way was I going to give up a chance to be close to Caeran.
I opened my eyes. Caeran was leaning against the adobe wall of the fireplace, watching me. He smiled.
“Your khi is very bright for a mortal’s. Have I told you that?”
“Not in so many words.”
I reached for him, and he drew back, glancing down at my borrowed shirt. I looked and saw that it was smeared with blood. No wonder the ælven had grimaced at my appearance.
“I could take it off,” I said.
He smiled. “You’d be cold.”
“You could warm me up.”
His expression grew wistful. “You did a great thing, assisting Madóran. Any of the others would have been placing themselves at risk, to be in contact with Savhoran’s blood.”
I hadn’t thought of that. Caeran was already at risk, but no need to make it worse. I got up and went to the dresser where I’d just put away my clean clothes, took out my t-shirt, and changed into it, dropping Madóran’s shirt on the floor.
I returned to my seat by the fire. “Better?”
Caeran reached out and caressed my cheek. I leaned into it, hungry for more, for as much of him as I could get.
His arms slid around me, drawing me close. I felt the heat of the fire on my side, but it was a shadow compared to the blaze in my heart.
Oh, yes. I felt my brain shutting down as pleasure sensors leapt to life. Warm breath on my neck. Strong arms wrapping me tight, and strong shoulders beneath my arms. The silky touch of his hair on my cheek. The clean, salty smell of him—I would never get tired of that smell.
My left side was roasting. I didn’t care. Caeran must have noticed, though, because he shifted us to the bed. I practically floated, shamelessly willing to go with him anywhere.
