Sundered

by Bethany Adams

  “And I you,” Ralan answered, though he was startled by his brother’s lapse in courtesy in leaving his companion without introduction.

  Teyark followed his gaze back to his companion, and he gestured the other man forward with a smile. “Beloved, come meet my brother, Moranai Elaiteriorn i Ralantayan Moreln nai Moranaia. Ralan, this is Moranai Mierorn i Corath Moreln se Teyark nai Moranaia.”

  Despite his time away, Ralan picked through the title for the relevant information with ease. His heart lifted at the revelation. “You found your soulbonded. Congratulations!”

  Teyark’s eyebrow raised. “You seem surprised. Was I not supposed to?”

  “I looked once a few centuries ago, but I didn’t see a future then where you found him. Something must have changed to open up the possibility.” Ralan grinned. “Well met, new brother. Please call me Ralan.”

  The other’s face lightened with pleasure beneath his short, blonde hair. “As you must call me Corath. It brings me much joy to meet the brother so long mourned by my beloved.”

  “Teyark—” Ralan began.

  His brother held up his hand and shook his head. “We can speak of it later, in private, though I will say that I’m not angry. I have come to urge you to return. Father announced your new status as heir, and the nobles at court are growing nervous at your absence.”

  “It’s not right, me being heir. Even knowing what the future holds, I cannot be happy about taking your rightful place.” Based on a prophecy by Ralan’s aunt, the king had long ago decreed that the first to have a child with an outworlder would be his heir. Now that Ralan was using his talents once more, he could see why his aunt had made such an odd declaration, but it wasn’t easy. “It feels biased to base this decision on who can have a child.”

  “That’s what’s bothering you?” Teyark laughed. “I’ve met women here and there that I fancied well enough in my thirteen hundred years. If I’d cared about being king, I could have looked for an outworld woman before you were even born.”

  The tension eased from Ralan’s body as he considered his brother’s words. If Teyark had thought this through and made his choice, then Ralan could release some of the guilt.

  “Regardless, I cannot return right now.” He glanced at the guards before meeting his brother’s eyes once more. “It’s a matter of state. I would speak with you without your loreln.”

  The bodyguard closest to Teyark, likely the leader, removed his helmet and stepped forward as if to protest but halted at Ralan’s raised eyebrow. Though the guard scowled, he gestured to the others and led them out the side entrance. Lyr’s study, an oval-shaped room on the edge of the estate, was lined with floor-length windows. Even though the estate was well protected, the royal bodyguards surrounded the exterior, backs to the room. Ralan had forgotten how seriously the loreln took their jobs.

  He led the others to the seats situated beneath skylights in the center of the room and waited for them to get settled. It was finally time to reveal a little of what he’d seen. “The Sidhe are in trouble. If we don’t help them, we’re all doomed.”

  Chapter 4

  Doomed?

  The air left Lyr’s chest in a rush. When the hell had they gone from a small but serious problem to doomed? For a solid month, they’d discussed possible solutions to the energy poisoning, and not once had Ralan suggested something so dire. “By all the gods of Arneen, why are you just now telling me this?”

  The seer shrugged, his expression unconcerned. “Now is the right time.”

  Teyark and Corath exchanged confused glances. “I’ve heard nothing about any problems with the Sidhe, nor has father mentioned this,” Teyark said.

  The censure in the eldest prince’s tone caused Lyr to tense. “Your Highness, I assure you that I have not neglected my duties to the king. Until recently, I thought this a minor issue. Poisoned energy has been trickling into the Sidhe realm for some time, but it has only just begun to cause illness or madness. I’ve been gathering more information and planned to send a report soon.”

  Corath frowned. “Our world is not closely connected to Earth, unlike theirs. I fail to see how this concerns us.”

  “So I thought, too, except for any diplomatic complications,” Lyr said. “However, Kai reports that the Veil between worlds is becoming increasingly chaotic. Just today, a colony of the Seelie Sidhe came to request our aid.”

  Brow furled in concentration, Teyark listened intently to the day’s events, including Kai’s experience on Neor, and then turned a questioning glance on his brother. “Bold of you to offer our help without consulting Father.”

  “Father had no problem using my talent when it suited him, at least until my prophecy involved Kien.” Ralan sat with head held high, golden eyes free of worry. “If he wishes me to be heir, then he will heed me now. This problem is closer to Moranaia than you think. I can only do my best to guide us to a favorable outcome, though so many things can change the paths. When navigating the futures, timing really is everything.”

  “Miaran dae fe onai!” The curse slipped free before Lyr could pull it back. Iron in the heart. Though not the best manners for such a formal meeting, the sentiment was echoed in both newcomers’ eyes.

  Teyark smirked. “Well said, Lord Lyr. I’ve no doubt my father will feel the same.”

  “Especially when he reads my latest report, if he hasn’t already.” Lyr leaned forward, lowering his voice. “Whoever is responsible for the poisoned energy may have an agent here. The late Lord Allafon, Kai’s supposed father, was working with someone to eliminate this House, and Kai’s brother believes the two problems are related.”

  Teyark’s brow lifted. “Supposed father? What has happened here?”

  “More was brewing than either my father or I knew. Kai’s mother wasn’t Allafon’s soulbonded as he’d claimed. He murdered her in part because Kai wasn’t his.” It was Teyark’s turn to curse, but Lyr only sighed, exhausted with it all. “For five hundred years, he plotted, and none of us suspected. Not until he trapped me, Kai, and Arlyn and tried to kill us.”

  Corath broke the sudden silence. “But how was he connected to poisoned energy reaching the Sidhe realms?”

  “He might not have been,” Lyr conceded. “But the assassin he first sent warned us to stay out of Sidhe business. The pommel of his knife was engraved with the same symbol as the one on the sword used to murder my father—Allafon’s work. And Kai’s brother, Morenial, believed Allafon had an off-world connection.”

  “It seems we have more questions than answers,” Teyark said.

  Lyr let out another sigh. “Indeed.”

  The small fragment of iron taunted Lyr from atop the silk cloth placed carefully on his desk. It was well past the twenty-fifth hour. Teyark and Corath had adjourned to their room. Kai had finally returned from a fruitless search of the estate, and Arlyn had gone to work with her magic teacher, Selia. After spending several hours making simple mistakes on the same batch of paperwork, Lyr had given up on productivity and switched to his newest obsession. Iron conversion.

  Arlyn had had been the first to discover the trick and was on her way to mastering it. Like many of his kind, Lyr was allergic to the metal, and his daughter shared a milder form of the allergy. The secret seemed to be related to iron’s magnetism—the polarity in the iron worked against their energy, repelling it or sometimes draining it. Arlyn could push her own energy through the metal and reverse the polarity, but so far, she was the only one among them who could reliably do the trick. Lyr couldn’t do it at all.

  He could feel the strain on his shields just from the tiny shard on his desk. While previous attempts to replicate Arlyn’s spell had left him shaken and weak, he was determined to master iron conversion. Maybe then he could move beyond what had happened. Maybe he wouldn’t feel the bite of iron at his wrists every time he heard the rattle of metal against metal. Most of all, maybe he could covert the iron flakes left in the wound on his chest so Lial could finish healing it. He was tired of hidin
g the problem, but he couldn’t bear to confess it either.

  Lyr lifted a shaking hand to hover over the shard and closed his eyes before sending his energy forth. The iron repelled his power like a dam against a flood, and he struggled to keep control. Such a small fragment, yet his magic wanted to bounce away in a thousand directions. He gritted his teeth and pushed more energy toward the iron. Bit by bit, it started to give way. Sweat began to bead his brow. So close this time. Almost…

  The click of the door latch penetrated his focus, and he made the mistake of looking up. His energy fractured, the rebounding streams absorbing into the shielding he’d set around his desk for that purpose. Kai stood frozen in the doorway as Lyr released a string of profanity that would have made his soldiers proud. The closest he’d ever come to success, only to be interrupted. The glare he turned on his friend could have melted the metal that had defeated him.

  “I’m sorry to interrupt. What—” Kai’s eyes widened at the sight of the shard. “What the hell are you doing with iron?”

  Lyr took his time wrapping the fragment back up in the silk and stuffing it in the pouch, being careful not to touch the iron. Before answering, he opened the most secure drawer to his desk, the one keyed only to himself and Arlyn. When he had the pouch put away, he turned to his friend once more.

  “I’ve been working on the conversion trick, for all the good it has done me. I think I would have had it this time but for your interruption.”

  “You might try putting a sign on the door, you know.” Kai advanced to the edge of the shield around Lyr’s desk and waited for him to remove it. “But I am sorry. I forgot to ask earlier if you had spoken to Selia about the security breach.”

  “You need to know this now, in the middle of the night?”

  Kai sighed. “Not really, but I can’t sleep. Something about this whole situation disturbs me.”

  “Yes, well, Ralan claimed that if we don’t help the Sidhe, we’re doomed,” Lyr said wryly as he slumped back in his chair. “Perhaps you have good reason for your concern.”

  “He actually said doomed?” Kai snorted. “Drama queen.”

  “What?”

  “Sorry. I picked that slang up from Arlyn.” Kai’s eyes lit with humor despite the situation. “It seems like an extreme way to phrase it.”

  “Perhaps, but I can’t disregard a seer of his power.” Lyr tapped restless fingers across the surface of his desk. “And yes, I spoke with Selia. Neither she nor young Iren sensed a thing. If there was a breach in the estate shields, Arlyn was the only one who detected it. It could be another half-blood, but if so, how did they get here? Your brother said Allafon killed the half-bloods he’d tried to send against us.”

  Kai’s expression sobered. “The person behind Allafon’s actions must be based on Earth.”

  “Yes,” Lyr said, suddenly weary. “How and why—two words that are rarely as simple as they should be.”

  Meli could almost feel time slow and stretch. Hours, days, years—she had no idea how long they had wandered the endless mists. Rolling gray fog surrounded them, even beneath their feet, though it held as firm as ground. Sometimes, they encountered small springs of pure water bubbling up from seemingly nowhere, but it was impossible to use them to gauge how far they might have traveled or where they had been. Strands of color floated through the gray here and there, and on some instinct, she’d followed the emerald green line that matched the haunted eyes from her dream.

  But how long should she trust instinct before using the emergency beacon in her necklace? Half of their food was already gone, and one of the attendants, Berris, had started to look a little wild-eyed at the constant monotony. The other two seemed withdrawn, barely speaking to the rest of the group, and the ambassador…well, she appeared as annoyed as always.

  Gods, what a fool’s mission. Meli had no idea what she was doing.

  For all she knew, the emerald strand led to nothing. And yet she felt drawn in a way she had only experienced in dreams. As though another part of herself lingered somewhere ahead, just waiting for her to claim it. Despite the ambassador’s hostility and the furtive glances of the attendants, Meli followed that thread of feeling and prayed devoutly that it was the correct one.

  “You realize that if you get me killed my family will seek redress from yours?”

  Meli flinched at the sound of the elder’s voice, cold with fury, and met her gaze. “I should think they would seek such from the king, since he ordered this madness.”

  “Perhaps.” A hint of something like jealousy passed across the ambassador’s face. “But my family will hold you to blame. How much longer do we have in this accursed place?”

  With a shrug, Meli faced forward. The ambassador had threatened her often enough that she no longer cared what the other woman thought. Meli had asked for none of this, and she refused to be castigated for their king’s command. All that mattered now was following that green strand. “Until we arrive.”

  Though subtle at first, the shifting mists began to roll around them with increasing intensity. Other strands began to swirl and snarl around the green one, causing Meli to shift directions. Her feet and legs ached with each endless step. Gods, how long had passed? The way had grown harsher, the mists growing thick around them and making each movement seem tougher. It could have been a turn of the moon or millennia.

  The withdrawn attendants began to glance around uncertainly. The third hugged herself, rubbing her arms in a rhythmic, almost frantic pattern. Meli no longer acknowledged the ambassador. She could feel the elder’s presence through the spell on her necklace. She didn’t need to see the living reminder of the pressure she faced.

  A cry of pain ripped Lyr from his troubled sleep. Gasping for air, he jerked upright and clawed at his chest in search of the wound. The dull ache of the healing flesh added to his panic before memory returned. Shaky, he dropped his head to his knees and tried to slow his breathing. Some nights, it was the iron biting into his wrists and sapping his energy. Other times, he relived the pain of his mother’s near-death. Then, like tonight, he envisioned the iron dagger descending, only to glance off his necklace and cut through his flesh.

  The nights after he worked on the conversion spell were usually the worst. This time, though, the dream had been different. Before the knife vision, Lyr had wandered through the mists of the Veil, completely lost. Though he didn’t possess the gift of the guide himself, he’d traveled through often enough with Kai to learn now to find the path to anywhere he needed to go. But in the dream, the mists had writhed around him, the gray pushing and pulling him until he had no sense of time or place. Just as that panic filled him, the scene had cut to the small room where Allafon had kept them captive, the iron blade already descending.

  His long hair clung to his sweat-drenched chest and back as he shifted off the bed and stumbled to the refreshing room. A pull of a plug, and water trickled over his head and down his body. Thank the gods he’d had a shower created after discovering them on his visits to Earth. He kept the stream cool like the mountain falls on an early summer day, though the spell that purified the water could have warmed it as well. With the stone stall carved to resemble a cliff face, he could almost imagine himself outside.

  Lyr dried himself with a simple spell, one even non-mages could learn. He could have cleansed himself the same way, but it wouldn’t have been as satisfying. The cool water usually soothed his mind and emotions, bringing him some peace, though it failed to erase his troubled thoughts this time. Besides the ache of his wound, the clinging mists wouldn’t leave him. Now that his panic had faded, he thought about the dream, and...he’d swear it had felt like someone had traveled with him—someone who felt like Aimee, the soulbonded he’d lost years before.

  He hadn’t dreamed of his bonded in some time. Why now?

  After pulling on a lounging robe, he padded over to the balcony that overlooked the massive trunk of Eradisel, one of the nine sacred trees of the nine gods of Arneen, in this case Dorenal, Go
ddess of the Veil. It was his right and privilege, as guardian of the tree, to consult with her whenever needed. In the two decades he’d been Myern of the estate, Lyr had become almost friends with the sacred tree, an honor he tried never to abuse. Perhaps she would know the meaning of his dream.

  He placed his hand on the smooth trunk. Eradisel’s energy pulsed around him, and he opened his mind to her gentle voice. “What pains you this night, young one?”

  At almost five hundred and fifty years old, Lyr smiled to be called such. “Besides the usual nightmares, I dreamed of the Veil. It was puzzling.”

  Her energy stilled in the equivalent of a sigh. “You know I cannot share the secrets of the Veil with you.”

  “I do know. It’s just…I thought I sensed Aimee, dead for years now.”

  “Dreams can rarely be trusted, though they are the closest you mortals come to living the Veil.” A sense of peace flowed through him through their link, though her next words hurt. “I can only say that Aimee Moore is not traveling through the mists of any time or place. You will never find her in the Veil.”

  Chapter 5

  “Relax into the pose and clear your mind of all thought.”

  Sitting on a mat in the specially-shielded training room, Arlyn allowed her muscles to go soft and attempted to follow her teacher’s instructions. The hour was early, a few marks until breakfast. The cold of the stone beneath her thin cloth cushion seeped into her body, numbing her lower limbs, but it did nothing for her turbulent thoughts. How was she supposed to clear her mind with everything that was going on? With a sigh, she tried her hardest, locking up each thought as it began to intrude.

  “I want you to search your mind for the spell that connects you to the estate,” Selia said. “Examine it and see if you can figure out what portion is the estate shielding.”