Sundered

by Bethany Adams

  “Ah, yes. I didn’t think about that.” Arlyn peered at Meli and then grinned. “Wait, was he naked? I’m definitely glad I missed that.”

  Meli sighed and cursed her pale coloring. “I imagine so.”

  It was confounding how familiar Arlyn seemed. Memories from the night before flashed through Meli’s mind, especially the one where she’d almost called the other woman her daughter. Could whatever bond she might have with Lyr cause that kind of confusion?

  Arlyn’s smile faded, replaced by a considering frown. “Have you ever been to Earth?”

  “No.” Meli twisted her hands together. “I’m only twenty-five, just at the age of traveling.”

  “Father was right. You are younger than me.” Arlyn stared at her for so long that Meli’s stomach pitched with worry. “Yet you still seem…familiar.”

  Should Meli tell the girl—woman—that she seemed familiar as well? That Meli felt like she knew both Arlyn and Lyr? It was nothing but the truth, but truth often came with its own consequences. Still, she deserved to know.

  “I feel the same,” Meli admitted.

  Arlyn’s forehead furrowed. “Interesting. I wonder what it could mean?”

  Before Meli could reply, Lyr and the healer returned. Both Lyr’s borrowed tunic and pants were a bit snug, and her body heated at the memory of what the cloth hid. Ah, curse it. Mortified, she spun toward the door before they could see her blush. She had no desire to face the healer’s mocking smirk once more.

  “Meli?” Lyr called, and she looked over her shoulder to see him swaying on his feet.

  “The others must be looking for me.” She smiled. “Besides, I’m sure you wish to talk to—to your daughter.”

  She fled before he could stop her. Had she almost said our daughter?

  “Do you need to sit?” Arlyn asked softly.

  Pulling his gaze from the door where Meli had stood, Lyr shook his head. He had no idea why Meli had run away, but she’d been right. He did need to speak with Arlyn. His daughter deserved no less than his full attention. “I’ll be well enough for a moment.”

  Her brow quirked. “You’re swaying.”

  “I’ll live,” Lyr said with a smile, though his body had tensed. Why hadn’t she yelled at him yet? “And…I’m sorry. As Lial rightly reminded me, I would have left you with quite a lot of trouble to deal with. You must be angry. If you need to—”

  Arlyn threw her arms around his neck, cutting of his words and knocking him a step back. “I’m not. I’m just glad you’re alive. I thought I’d never see you again.”

  “You almost didn’t,” Lyr whispered into her hair as he gathered her close.

  They stood like that for a while, squeezing each other tight. Lyr’s throat clogged with all the words he couldn’t say. He had a lifetime to apologize for, and it would never be enough. Now he’d done this. How had she forgiven him so easily? Clechtan, but it was time for him to stop living in the past. Time to be the father Arlyn deserved.

  When she pulled away, they smiled at each other, and something within Lyr eased. He tugged at a lock of her beautiful hair, so like her mother’s. “I suppose this means you have truly accepted me.”

  Arlyn laughed. “Somewhere along the way, I guess I have. But I need to work on my fierceness.”

  “You…what?” he asked with a frown.

  “Don’t you remember the first time I helped you with paperwork?” Mischief glinted in her eyes. “I seem to recall saying that if you ever grew suicidal, I’d kill you.”

  Lyr let out a chuckle. “Ah, yes. Though I swear I wasn’t trying to get myself killed.”

  “Tell that to your mother,” Lial said, his voice slicing through their moment of humor. “She was up until dawn sitting with you. Her injury pained her so much she could hardly walk back to her room.”

  The slice of iron through flesh was nothing to the agony of that thought. Lyr’s shoulders slumped. Of course she blamed herself. Wouldn’t he do the same if Arlyn had done something like this? “I’ll go speak with her. The meeting with the mages can wait.”

  Lial shook his head. “She’s only been asleep for an hour or two. Let her rest.”

  Lyr sucked in a breath. It would be beyond difficult to focus on estate business knowing how he’d hurt his mother. “You have a healing-link to monitor her?”

  “Of course,” Lial snapped.

  “Let me know when she wakes.” Lyr swayed again and then pulled in more energy to augment his waning strength. At least walking around injured for over a month had taught him how to ignore physical weakness. “I’ll push aside any other business for her.”

  The world would just have to get by on its own for a while.

  Chapter 17

  As soon as Meli opened the door to the tower, fingers wrapped around her arm and tugged, and she let out a yelp in fright. What was it with people grabbing her lately? Scowling, she jerked her arm free and straightened. As expected, the ambassador stood with mouth pinched and hand stretched out as though to reach for Meli again.

  “You have no right to touch me,” Meli bit out.

  “Well, well.” Lady Teronver sneered, though she dropped her hand. “Bold for one who disappeared without a word and stayed gone all through the night. Dare I ask where you have been?”

  Meli tilted her chin up. No one needed to know that she’d lingered outside the healer’s tower until dawn, unable to pull herself away until she could check on Lyr herself. “No, you do not.”

  The ambassador gaped. “You insolent—I will see you returned to Alfheim as soon as I can arrange it.”

  “I wish you good fortune in getting the Myern to agree to such a thing.”

  Teronver eased closer, expression suddenly sly. “So that’s where you were. Earning favor on your back, no—”

  At the crack of Meli’s hand against the ambassador’s cheek, everyone in the room stilled. Berris, the attendant assigned to be Teronver’s guardian, stood by the dining table with Orena, both trying to stifle a grin. Possible allies after all? Before Meli could explore the thought, the ambassador stepped back, a ball of energy growing in her hand.

  Meli drew her stinging palm against her chest and tried to pull up her meager magical shields. Teronver was no true mage, but just about any spell would be enough to harm Meli. It didn’t matter. By Freyr, she refused to cower any longer. She had done no harm to this woman, and if there was enmity, it wasn’t Meli’s doing. Disparaging another’s sexuality was a grave insult, and she would not back down.

  “Go ahead,” Meli said, her eyes narrowed. “The others will be certain to report your slur to my parents.”

  The elder merely shrugged. “My family is powerful enough to weather it.”

  The hum of magic filled the air, and Meli braced for the blow. But as Teronver raised her hand to cast her spell, Pol stepped from behind Meli to grasp the ambassador’s arm. The ball of energy winked out instantly. “Enough, hag.”

  “You!” The lady tugged, but Pol hardly budged. “You forget your place, and it is beyond foolish to ally with this one.”

  “There is only one fool here, and it’s not me.” A spark of fire seemed to light his eyes as he grinned. “Probably.”

  When Teronver pulled on her arm again, he released her. “I will send you back with the girl.”

  “You think so?” he asked smoothly, and something in his tone made Meli shiver.

  Pol stepped close to the elder and leaned forward to whisper in her ear. Had she heard him mention Hel? She couldn’t be sure, but whatever his words, the ambassador grew paler than Meli had ever seen her. The woman actually trembled where she stood. When he backed away, she nodded and then turned to rush up the stairs.

  Silence fell, and Meli exchanged looks of awe with the other two girls. Whoever Pol truly was, she was no longer certain she wanted to know. Then he turned his grin on her, power still flashing like fire in his eyes, and she amended that thought. She absolutely did not want to know.

  “Thank you,” Meli said
>
  He bowed before her with a flourish. “My pleasure. I take it you found purpose in your lessons yesterday?”

  “You knew,” she whispered. “Why didn’t you warn me? Or him?”

  His smile never wavered. “It was not for me to do. Didn’t you want to explore those woods?”

  “Not like that.” The memory of the darkness, the fear, the compulsion—Meli shuddered. “Never like that.”

  Lyr propped himself upright with one trembling arm and stared into the long mirror on his dressing chamber wall. Gods, but the gash had been a deep one. The line of his wound, well knit but still dark pink, stretched from just above his heart almost to his belly button. After a moment’s hesitation, he touched the healing injury with his free hand and winced at the dull pain that throbbed in his chest.

  No wonder Lial had argued against Lyr returning to work.

  Yet with the Neorans in such need, Lyr had no choice but to return to his duties. This was beyond the petty feud between House Anar and House Nari or the bickering of travelers in the tavern. He could spare a day or two away from those types of reports. The lives of thousands of Sidhe? Lyr wouldn’t rest abed while others went insane or died—not if he could do something to help.

  Just meet with the mages and see the details set for the mission to Neor, Lyr chanted to himself as he shuffled over to his clothing shelves. Just that, then rest.

  It took longer than Lyr would ever admit to get dressed, though he wore only a fine tunic and a matching pair of pants. His gaze fell on the heavy, embroidered overcoat he would normally put on next, and he snorted. Not even he would try to feign that level of strength. If the Taian mages were offended by his lack of formality, well…a small insult would be better than the indignity of collapsing at their feet.

  By the time he placed a small, silver circlet across his brow and returned to his bedroom, Lyr’s body felt heavier than his entire estate. Though he eyed the bed, he knew better than to risk that—he’d surely sleep the day away. Instead, he dropped into the seat next to Eradisel. His breath came in short gasps and his hands shook where they rested on the chair. How was he going to do this?

  “You need aid,” the sacred tree whispered into his mind.

  Lyr slumped as he looked at Eradisel. “You have given a great deal already, and that much I didn’t deserve. I forgot my most important duties to race away after—” His breath caught. “The assassins. I forgot the assassins.”

  “Ease yourself,” She said. “They have passed through the portal to the Veil.”

  “Passed through…” he said aloud, smacking his forehead with his palm. Why hadn’t he thought to ask Eradisel, living link to the Goddess of Portals and the Veil, if She could sense the assassins? “You can see through the cloaks they wear?”

  “Sometimes.” Vague, indecipherable images flickered through with the words. “Like rain on the wind. Here but not.”

  His brow furrowed. He’d grown adept at communicating with the tree, but there were times She couldn’t put her thoughts into a form he could understand. “Rain on the wind?”

  “Hints of moisture wrap around the leaves, but the source remains out of touch.”

  “Ah.” Lyr smiled as the confusion cleared. She meant the humidity of an approaching storm. “You get hints of their presence but nothing clear?”

  He sensed her affirmation—the touch of energy She used as a nod. “Until they entered the Veil. They revealed themselves on the way to the Earth-portal.”

  His breath hissed out at that, and he levered himself to his feet. So the source of their trouble did hail from Earth. “Thank you, my friend.”

  “Be well,” Eradisel whispered.

  Her words were not an idle benediction. Strength poured into Lyr, and he stood straighter, no longer in danger of toppling under his own weight. Maybe, just maybe, he could do this.

  Groaning at the sight of the new stack of papers waiting on his desk, Lyr sank into his seat. He didn’t have the time or energy to read about crop yields, especially since he had competent people in charge of those estates. A long sigh escaped, and he shifted the reports to the side. They’d have to wait.

  He let his eyes slip closed as he pulled in more energy from the world around him. The simple walk from his bedroom had burned off much of what Eradisel had given him, and his healing wound ached at the slightest movement. Maybe he should nap on a cushion of unfinished paperwork. He snorted at the thought. Wouldn’t that be a sight?

  A knock sounded on the door. Lyr had just managed to straighten before it opened and Kai strode through. “I can’t believe you just—”

  “At peace,” Lyr interrupted with a lift of his hand. “I know what I did was foolish. For what it’s worth, you were right.”

  Kai’s brow furrowed. “About?”

  “Remember when I yelled at you for trying to go after your attacker while you were still healing?” At his friend’s nod, Lyr continued. “You told me I wouldn’t handle being injured any better than you. Consider me humbled.”

  After a long pause, Kai let out a sharp laugh. “I hadn’t meant to curse you.”

  “I know,” Lyr answered, grinning. Then he shifted forward, and the pain that sizzled along his chest made him wince. “I just hope I recover quickly. I have no doubt that other assassins will be sent soon.”

  “Did you find out more about them, then?”

  “Only that they truly are from Earth,” Lyr answered, his fingers tapping an angry beat on the surface of his desk.

  Kai’s brows rose. “You know this for certain?”

  Lyr’s thoughts flashed back to the clearing. I hope my own bastard father has more power than this, the man had said in clear English. So much for half-bloods being rare. Lyr’s stomach dropped. He hadn’t known about Arlyn. How many other races of fae had left lovers behind on Earth without checking for children?

  Silence fell as Lyr’s fingers froze. “Gods,” he whispered.

  “Lyr?” Kai took a quick step closer. “If you aren’t certain, there’s no—”

  “It’s not that. Eradisel Herself confirmed they were from Earth.” Lyr’s nostrils flared. Why would half-bloods journey to Moranaia to attack him? How would they know the way? “At least one of the two was half-Dökkálfar.”

  “Dökkálfar?” Kai’s eyes widened. “I didn’t think their kind traveled to Earth very often. You think they’d be careless enough to leave children behind?”

  Lyr stiffened, his throat convulsing around a sudden lump. Careless. Lyr had certainly been that with Aimee. “We both know that once can be more than enough.”

  “Fuck it all,” Kai muttered with a frown. “You know I wasn’t thinking about you.”

  “I do know.” And he did. With a deep sigh, Lyr pushed a few stray strands of hair from his face and forced himself to relax. “But it’ll take a few centuries to truly forgive myself, no matter how inadvertent my actions.”

  Kai opened his mouth as if to answer, but they both froze at the mental ping the estate shield emitted to signify gate or portal activity. Lyr’s heart gave a quick jolt even as he scanned the magical link. Ah, the transportation gate that eased travel between estates in Moranaia. The Taian mages had emerged into the portal room.

  With a groan, Lyr heaved himself to his feet. His head spun, and he had to grip the edge of his desk until he was certain he’d remain standing. “The mages are here,” he murmured.

  “Are you sure you can do this?” Kai’s eyes narrowed on Lyr. “You look unwell.”

  Lyr let out a laugh. “That’s because I am unwell. But the only other person who wouldn’t cause offense for this type of meeting is Arlyn, since she’s my heir, and I’m not putting her through that. Though…” He frowned. “I suppose I should have included her.”

  “She’s working with Selia, anyway. They’re examining the cloak you were left under.”

  At the memory, Lyr’s hands tightened on the desk until his palms burned. “If I ever find the man who did that…”

  Kai gave
a sharp nod, his eyes full of anger. “Death would be too kind.”

  For a moment, Lyr let the rage pour through him. His vision went red, and his breath came in shallow gasps. Iron pierce the person responsible for all of this! Killing Allafon had only been the beginning. “Too kind, indeed,” he ground out.

  Three quick knocks sounded on the door, and Lyr stiffened. The mages. He forced his breathing to slow. In. Out. In. Out. He made himself let go of the desk and straighten before glancing at Kai. One of his brows was quirked, but he didn’t say a word as Lyr rounded the desk and settled into place in front of it.

  “You should stay for this,” Lyr said, “since you’re leading the mission.”

  Nodding, Kai crossed to stand beside him. “Ready when you are.”

  Lyr locked his legs to hide their shaking and pulled in more energy to augment his strength. Then he gave the command to enter, and Kera led the five mages into the room. Though none were as dark as Kera with her Dökkálfar heritage, all of them had duskier skin like Selia, a mark not just of ancestry but of life on the plains. Their thin linen robes swirled around them in shades of blue or green as they walked to the center of the room.

  One woman stepped forward, her knot of dark hair bobbing as she nodded her head and tapped her fist against her chest in salute. “Blessings of the Nine Gods upon you, Myern. I am Taian ia’Kelore ai’Flerin ay’mornia Maean i Ilera Erasan nai Fiorn, sent at your request by Lord Loren.”

  “Blessings upon you, Ilera. I am Callian Myern i Lyrnis Dianore nai Braelyn.” He smiled and introduced Kai by title. “Please be welcome in my home.”

  “It is an honor to be included in this mission,” Ilera said.

  As she introduced the other mages, Lyr inclined his head to each in turn. “I thank you for your aid,” he said. “I have arranged for you to stay in the garden tower, if that is acceptable.”

  Eyes going wide, Ilera’s gaze slid to the window before darting back to him. “In…in the trees?”

  “No.” He almost grinned, but he held it back in case she took offense. There were few trees on the plains of Fiorn and none large enough to hold structures. After meeting Selia, he’d thought the stories of plains elves being terrified of heights was an exaggeration. Apparently not. “The tower is tall, but it’s made of solid stone.”