By the time his brain could function at all, and think of the appropriate words of gratitude, the elf had disappeared. He looked down at the note. His name—without the title, he noted dazedly—was on the outside flap in deep green ink. His hand started to shake . . . was still shaking, he didn’t know.
He did know who the note was from. And considering his last conversation with her, he wasn’t looking forward to any afterthoughts she might have forgotten to mention in her first assault. He opened it anyway. He liked to think it was a brave action. Something to tell his children about someday.
Seek out Valdys in the kingdom of Torar-Araldyn.
He flipped the note over, looking for more, but there was nothing. No other information.
Seek out the king of Torar-Araldyn? Why? He glared at it in frustration for a minute before he stuffed it in his bag, leaving it for later. Maybe Auri would understand what the queen meant.
Why did everything have to be so obscure? So difficult? Why couldn’t it just be simple for once?
He sighed then set out to search for Auri.
Auri walked beside the river, treasuring the time alone. She wanted a few moments to say goodbye to El`ness Nahrral, to El`dell. . .
She also wanted a moment alone to say goodbye to Liran.
Because Liran was gone. And neither she nor any of the Vi`dal she had asked to look for him could find any trace of him. That was something else that she could add to her growing list of information about Liran—if he didn’t want to be found, he wouldn’t be. Not by anyone.
Wolf suddenly stopped. “Good boy,” she murmured softly. She stroked the fur around his ears as she watched her aunt gracefully cross the clearing toward her.
Her aunt turned to look at her once then slowly started walking forward in the same direction Auri had been traveling. Her eyes were troubled. They held a strange combination of fear and determination.
Fear for what? Her? Auri shook her head in bemusement.
“Whatever it is, just say it,” she said resignedly.
Alera’s intense eyes flickered toward her and then away. Her mouth pursed in deep thought. “I wanted to help you to understand why I chose to pull our people back to El`ness Nahrral.”
“It doesn’t matter the reasons. The results are the same.”
Alera’s face went ashen. “The reasons matter to me! You think that I am a monster, but if I have been a monster, it has been for the right reasons. You don’t understand because you are not one of us. You don’t understand what place El`dell holds within Terradin.”
Auri clutched the downy fur at Wolf’s nape. “Because I’m not one of you?” she questioned quietly.
Her aunt looked stricken. She closed her eyes. “I didn’t mean that,” she said in a low voice.
“Yes. You did.”
Alera opened her eyes. Sound became subdued, almost distant as if from a long tunnel. They stared at each other.
“I’m sorry, Aurelias.”
Auri nodded. What else could she say?
“Explain what you said, please. Place? I thought we were separate?”
Alera shook her head. “No. Just the opposite in fact.” She began walking again. “Think of it like a human body with systems that are interdependent on each other. What would happen to that body if its heart became diseased?”
The answer was obvious. “The body would die.”
Alera nodded. “If the heart was diseased, it would fail to function properly. Only in this case it is sending diseased blood circulating throughout the body first, before it shuts down.”
Auri gazed at her, making those instant connections that she always seemed to be able to make at almost blinding speed. “You were trying to protect the heart,” she said in a daze, her eyes wide. “You’re saying that El`dell is the heart, and that when you called all of our people home, you were trying to protect it.”
“Yes.”
“But it wasn’t enough. Protecting the heart isn’t enough when the whole body is already diseased. No matter how strong it is, the heart won’t be enough on its own.”
Alera looked away from her.
“You are wiser than I, for that is what I failed to see.” Her voice had gone soft, but with a vicious undercurrent. At her next words, Auri knew the viciousness was directed at herself. The pain of a flayed conscience.
“I was so arrogant. I thought that, if we protected ourselves, we could, in time, lend Terradin our strength and find a way to combat the decay. But we couldn’t—I couldn’t—and trying to stop it only made it worse.”
“How?”
Alera gave a sharp shake of her head, refusing to answer. Her wild eyes came back to Auri’s face. “I thought that I was doing the right thing,” she said hoarsely. “I was faced with an impossible decision—a decision that no being should ever have to be faced with—and I did what I thought would give us all the greatest chance of survival.”
“I understand why you made the choice that you made,” Auri said quietly, “but it was still the wrong choice. You tried to preserve what you felt was the most vital thing, but they are all vital.” She let the anger go when something else suddenly made sense. “It’s killing you isn’t it?” she said with certainty. “That’s why everything is dying here. It’s killing you.”
Alera jerked her eyes away from Auri’s probing ones, and was silent for a long time.
“Yes. We are dying.”
“Why? The others are not sickened by the decay! The humans. The dwarves. No other race that I know of is dying like this!”
“We are the caretakers of the land,” Alera whispered hoarsely. “There is a connection, an unbreakable connection, with that which we care for. As the land dies, so too do we.”
Auri swallowed; tears burned her tired eyes. “There is no hope for them then.”
Her aunt swung toward her. “You are their hope, Aurelias.”
Quiet had pierced the thicket again. Auri held the queen’s gaze with her burning eyes.
Numbness descended.
How was she going to change any of this? Things had been set in motion before she was even born. She—as her aunt had pointed out—was not even fully elven-kind.
“Your mother was first-born,” the queen said quietly, in answer to Auri’s slightly panicked train of thought. “And she felt the same way. The difference between us two is that, though she did not feel she would succeed, she determined to sacrifice everything to try while I, so arrogantly certain of my success, determined to sacrifice nothing and still win.” Her eyes gentled, but still held a poignant intensity. “Nothing good can ever be won without great sacrifice, Aurelias. And the most important things demand the highest sacrifices. Jenna understood that far better than I. And I have the feeling that you do as well. You are very much like her.”
She brought her hand to Auri’s cheek and held it there tenderly for a moment. “Whatever you may believe about me, know that I would have given my last breath for your mother, and that I will give my last breath for you. I will try to make it right again. Be well, Aurelias.” She dropped her hand and walked away, disappearing quickly into the shadows of the forest. Auri watched the spot where she had vanished then sat down next to Wolf. He nuzzled her hand with his muzzle.
“I don’t think she misspoke, Wolf, do you?” He looked at her with his crystal-clear blue eyes, and she read his answer within them.
No. He didn’t think so either.
The thought left her cold.
She was still sitting there, less than a quarter of an hour later, when her aunt’s thoughts touched her own. It felt unnerving to have another being push their thoughts into her mind. She had always thought of her mind as inviolate. Her own sanctuary. To have it invaded left her feeling exposed. An exposure of self that she didn’t feel ready for.
Aurelias. Your friend Nachal, does he not look like someone else you know? He is descended from royalty.
Auri spoke aloud to nothingness, feeling slightly foolish. “He is? Who ar
e his parents?”
Silence. Frustrating silence was her only reply.
She closed her eyes, searching through every royal line that she could think of—she had long since had them all memorized—but couldn’t find a single connection. A single link. Unless. . . She gasped. Wolf’s head shot up in alarm, and she stared at him in stunned shock.
“Valdys,” she whispered hoarsely. “Nachal’s father is Valdys.”
She was trying to figure it out. To make sense of it all. There were some elements that did made sense. Valdys had a brother, who, roughly a score of years ago, tried to overthrow him and usurp the throne. Failing that, he had stolen Valdys’s wife Arista, and presumably murdered her. There had been no request for ransom, no information whatsoever. Every possible lead had led to another dead end. Until there were finally no leads left, and Krellys had disappeared and gone into hiding, was still in hiding.
“She must have had the baby, Wolf. And somehow, Cerralys rescued him. But how? And why didn’t he return the child the moment he knew who he was? What possible reason could he have had for keeping him?
He must have known. The story of the kidnapping must have been on everyone’s lips. Why would he keep him then?”
Her eyes locked with Wolf’s. “Unless. . .” Understanding slowly dawned. “Unless he was worried for Nachal’s safety. If he thought the child would be in danger if he returned him, he might keep him close to him until he was sure that the danger had passed.”
Wolf’s gaze remained steady. “But the danger never passed. Krellys is still in hiding. That makes him a viable threat to Torar-Araldyn. To Valdys and to Valdys’s son.”
It made sense. From what Nachal had said of him, Cerralys seemed the kind of person to do such a thing. And whether it was right or wrong to keep the prince from Valdys all of these years, it had more than likely been done to protect him from the threat of his uncle, and not for anything untoward.
Nachal said that Cerralys—through the power of the Dragon Dreams—could see things that others couldn’t. Maybe he saw through one of those dreams that if he returned Nachal, the boy would die and any attempt to communicate what had happened would create the very situation that he was trying to avoid.
She didn’t know how she knew she was right. She just did. She was right. Perhaps there was some connection between herself and her father, some parent-child link. It was a nice thought anyway.
She stood quickly as the sound of snapping twigs and crunching leaves intruded on her thoughts.
Nachal.
Nachal with a puzzled scowl on his face.
He held out a note to her without any preemptory introduction. She took it, quickly reading the single line of green, elegant ink.
“Nice handwriting,” she commented inanely.
“What does it mean?” He asked in a frustrated growl. “Do you know?”
Auri nodded hesitantly, unsure how to say it. “I think it means. . .” She trailed off, sighing, and looked away. Better to just say it. He needed to know. Her eyes found his again resolutely. “I would guess that she wants you to get to know your father.”
His grey eyes widened.
Several days later, they were nearly to the shore that the Tide Skimmer was moored off of. Auri watched Nachal out of the corner of her eye. He had been quiet since she had told him about Valdys. Quiet and contemplative. She was too.
It was strange for her to think that they had been raised by each other’s fathers. She by Valdys and he by Cerralys. It was almost as if it had all been orchestrated carefully by some merciful hand that ruled the heavens. Regardless of what it was, design or strange accident, it was something that gave her pause.
After another few hours, they reached the shore . . . and Liran.
She stopped abruptly, stunned to see him there.
The others, Nachal, Dhurmic, and a few of the Vi`dal, headed for the skiff that was pulled onto the beach.
Liran walked toward her.
She stood there numb, counting up the changes since she had seen him last. His eyes still burned, she didn’t think that would ever change, but they also—she hadn’t thought this possible—obscured his feelings more. He had withdrawn wholly behind his own personal barricade, barring her from seeing whatever it was that he didn’t want her to see.
He reached her and stopped, waiting for her to speak.
“I’m going to see my father,” she said quietly.
“I’d like to come with you.”
“Why?”
His eyes burned into hers without voice.
“Why?” she asked again. “I need to know why.”
He let the barricade fall, only for an instant, but it was all that she needed.
“I’ll see you on the ship,” she said softly then she turned and walked away.
Chapter Twenty- Friendship
From her vantage point, high above the deck in the crow’s nest, she watched the misted elven isle disappear. She was surprised at how difficult it was for her to leave. The time she had spent there had been so brief. But . . . in a way, that was part of the difficulty.
She wanted more time.
She sat on the wooden lip with her feet dangling over the edge. Thick rope netting, attached to the main mast, ran beneath the soles of her feet, all the way to the deck far below. A safety measure to prevent sailors plummeting to their deaths, and an easy way to get up in the rigging and do whatever work needed to be done.
Her gaze fell on Liran at the aft of the ship. He was facing away from her, watching the ship’s gentle wake. They hadn’t spoken since they had boarded several hours before. Nachal and the dwarf were asleep in their quarters. And Wolf. . . She looked over the rim and down to the planks seventy feet below. Wolf was down there on the main deck of the ship. Still. He hadn’t moved since she had climbed up to the crow’s nest. His body language seemed relaxed, almost languid, but his blue eyes tracked her every movement intently.
“That’s what he does. His job is to protect you.”
She gasped, startled so much that she fell forward, losing her balance on her precarious perch. Liran grabbed her before she fell onto the net.
“Careful,” he said with an audible smile in his voice.
She clutched his hand, regaining her balance, and twisted her body inward toward him, rather than outward toward the net. She studied him for a while. Whatever smile she could hear in his voice didn’t make it to his face. He looked . . . slightly ragged. Unkempt. His clothes looked like they hadn’t been changed in weeks. His hair was mussed. And his face looked haggard. He looked exhausted.
“You should rest.”
“Noted,” he said dryly.
“How did you get up here so fast?”
“I climbed.”
She frowned, looking in disbelief from him to the rope.
“I climbed quickly,” he amended.
She laughed. He was hopeless. “What was that you were saying about Wolf? His job is to protect me? Since when?”
“Since you were born. But considering you weren’t raised on the isle, since Wolf found you.”
“Well, I could have used his protection a few times in Ardalan,” Auri said quietly.
“I’m sure you could have,” Liran said just as quietly.
She stared at him, her thoughts going around in circles. His eyes softened. Before she knew what he was doing, he hopped over the lip of wood she was sitting on, and jumped onto the netting. He sat on it with his knees drawn up, probably trying to give her some space. The weight of his body flattened the netting in places, and made it bow in others. He seemed comfortable with the height. His eyes never left hers.
“Wolf is older than most. He is a puzzle actually. Training on the elven isle can take years, though some manage it in merely a few months. He is part of a genus of canines called the White Alpine Wolves. This particular breed is coveted for a few reasons. They are very disciplined animals, and very intelligent. They need only be shown once or twice how to do something befor
e they catch on and are able to do it for themselves. They are also extremely loyal and strong. I’ve seen one of these wolves take on a fully grown bear and come out the winner.
Auri’s eyes widened. She had swung back around when Liran moved, and now she leaned carefully over to look down at Wolf.
He was still following her with his liquid blue eyes. They stared at her face, as if he likewise were contemplating her.
“How did he find me?”
Liran shook his head. “I don’t know, Auri. They have unparalleled instincts. He must have known your scent somehow and tracked you.”
“How did he get to the mainland? Are the White Alpines on the mainland or are they from El`ness Nahrral?”
“Both. We raise them on El`ness Nahrral, but once, long ago, they originated in the northlands of Terradin. In the snow and ice locked mountain ranges far to the north of Eldaria.”
“So he could have come from there?”
“If he did it means he hasn’t had any training. I don’t believe that’s true. He behaves like he’s had training before.”
“Well, he can’t have just crossed an ocean,” Auri said with a little laugh.
Liran’s face grew sober. “I wouldn’t dismiss it. It is possible. These wolves are relentless.”
Auri sobered too. The thought that Wolf had possibly crossed an ocean for her made her throat try to close up. She nodded at Liran who was watching her carefully—the way a spider might a fly—and broke the disconcerting contact of their eyes by staring down at the sea. It was gentle today, but thankfully there was a steady wind at the aft that pushed them toward Eldaria.
“I’m sorry, Auri,” Liran said gently.
“Don’t, Liran. Please, just don’t.”
“I shouldn’t have left,” he said, ignoring her words. “But I needed some time.”
She nodded without answering. She knew that. She also knew why.
“Why?” he asked hoarsely as though afraid of her answer, reading her thoughts again.
Well, that made it easier. If he was going to intrude, steal her thoughts, she might as well make use of it. There were some things that were easier to think than say.
You were used to being alone, and I wanted something from you that you couldn’t give. You didn’t want to hurt me. You needed distance.