by Nesa Miller
“A rub of the hands heated up the waffle iron,” he said, performing a live reenactment, minus the waffle iron. “A quick whip of batter and…BAM…homemade waffles, Freeblood-style.”
She chuckled, reaching for her glass of milk. “I hope you didn't hurt your hands in the process.”
“Oh, uh... No. Both are fully functional.” All ten fingers wiggled in front of her face. “Shall I demonstrate?”
“I don’t know, sir.” She set down the glass and made a closer inspection of said fingers. “They appear to be somewhat lacking. I detect a short lag in the wiggle.”
He frowned. “Really? They don’t feel any different.”
“The owner is usually the last to notice. There’s definitely a lag.” She shifted her tray to the side of the bed. Freeblood wiggled his fingers in front of his face, while Faux placed his tray beside hers on the floor. “Trust me. I’m an expert.”
“Expert at what?” he asked, impressed by her acute perception.
“To ensure they’re fully functional.” She lifted the edge of the comforter, smiling. “Step into my office.”
“Physical therapy?” He grinned, jerking the comforter over their heads. “I’ve heard it works wonders.”
Later in the morning, after a playful session of sexcapades, the two relaxed back on the bed. A ringing coming from Freeblood's pants on the floor made Faux sit up.
“Tell me that isn’t a cell phone. What’re you doing with a phone?” She reached for the pants.
He rolled off the bed and snatched them up, jabbing a hand into the front pocket. “To communicate. It’s mainly for emergencies.”
“Why, when we have this?” She pointed at her head, then his, and back.
“The only person I have this with…” He copied her move, “is you.” He held his phone up. “I need this to keep in touch with my family.”
“Family?”
Nodding, he put the phone to his ear. A feminine voice on the other end began talking before he could say anything. “Joe… Thank goodness. I was afraid you weren’t going to answer.”
“Hey, Mom. What’s wrong?”
“It’s good to hear your voice. How are you, sweetheart?”
“I’m fine. What is it?”
There was a hesitation on the other end. He heard her take a breath. “Look, I know you've been avoiding the family lately-”
“I haven't been avoiding anyone, Mom. I’ve had a lot going on…traveling and such. I’ve met someone.” He looked at Faux. “Someone special.”
“How nice for you, son.” Her voice broke.
“What is it, Mom? What’s wrong?” His heart skipped a beat, afraid of what she had to say.
“I’m sorry, Joe. This isn’t the way to handle it, but no one knew where you were.”
His stomach churned. “What?”
“Your brother…” She paused, sniffling. “Oh, Joe. He’s gone. My baby is gone.”
He felt as though he’d been punched in the stomach and struggled to catch his breath, feeling the air whoosh from his lungs. “G-gone? I-I don’t understand, Mom.”
“Not long after you disappeared, his doctor told us he had cystic fibrosis…” Her voice trailed off.
His legs turned to rubber, giving out from under him. He collapsed on the floor.
Faux peeked over the foot of the bed. “Who's gone?”
Freeblood looked at her with sad eyes, shaking his head, unable to say his brother’s name. “Cystic fibrosis?”
“Yes.” His mother’s voice was tight. “Joe, he was so sick.”
“My god, Mom.” Nausea made his stomach roll. “I’m coming home. When's the funeral?” Silence. “Mom?”
“A month ago...” The phone slipped to the floor. “Joe? Joe, are you there?”
He wiped his eyes and picked it up. “A month? Why didn’t you call me sooner?”
“Your father-”
That was all he needed to hear. He threw the phone across the room.
Faux watched him from the bed. “Who’s gone?”
“My baby brother,” he said, hopping from one foot to the other as he jammed legs, then arms into his clothes. “He died a month ago.” He dragged a comb through his hair for some ungodly reason, a habit inflicted on him by his mother.
“Is there anything I can do?”
Freeblood sensed her genuine concern and gave her a quick kiss. “I'm just going to visit his grave. I won’t be long.”
After a sonic speed run along the southwestern coastline of the island, Freeblood jumped onto a land bridge that connected to the mainland, breezing into the cemetery within minutes of leaving Sólskin. He stopped just inside the gates, approaching the family plot at a human pace.
This part of the cemetery was laid out like a family tree. His great-great-grandparents lay at the top, farthest from the gates, followed by their children, a spinster or two, a bachelor great-uncle, and so on. His brother’s grave was the first of their immediate family, one small grave set apart from the rest. Freeblood held back, recognizing a familiar silhouette standing by the grave.
Damn.
Freeblood dragged his feet through the grass, stopping just short of the grave. “You should have let me come,” he said to his father standing on the opposite side. “Why wasn’t I told about Paul or the funeral?”
His father pulled out a pack of cigarettes and tapped one out. “You clearly have no interest in family.” Reaching into another pocket, he brought out a lighter and touched the flame to the tip. After a long draw, he blew out the smoke and looked at his son. “Money, power, prestige… You threw it all away, walked out without a word.”
“If you’d have paid attention, you would’ve known none of that means anything to me. However, my family means everything. I went out on my own, true. I had to… Don’t you understand? I had to find my own way…without your interference. It did not mean I didn’t care.” Freeblood couldn’t believe what he was about to say but knew every word was true. “I’ve found a new family, people who accept me as I am, without money, power, or prestige. People who I respect even when we disagree.”
“Lowlife trash, no doubt. You're an insult to this family.” He dropped his cigarette on the ground, crushing it with the tip of his shoe. “Don’t bother coming to the house. You’re not welcome.”
Freeblood laughed, shaking his head. He knew it would come down to this, but a small part of him clung to the insane hope his father would experience a change of heart and accept him for who he was. “Glad I can finally make you happy, Dad.”
When his father looked up, all he saw was an empty field.
Time.
Time was what he needed at this moment…time to think, to sort out his feelings, to grieve. But not on the same ground his ass of a father walked on. Freeblood needed to be alone in a place that would help him come to terms with the passing of his brother. He had to find some semblance of peace before he returned to Faux. Aware of her nature, he also knew his own all too well. He felt their budding relationship deserved his full attention…heart, mind, and body. God knew it was going to take all his wits and energy to keep up with the likes of her, but he believed he was up to the challenge.
Life had been a whirlwind since meeting Etain, and it looked like it wasn’t about to slow down. The small mishap with the eighteen-wheelers had been a mere glitch, but one that paid off in the end, thanks to a blood transfusion given by the silver-haired stranger. Dashing out of the hospital, he’d felt stronger than ever, and hadn’t looked back, not even to think about the family he left behind in the human realm. Everyone had been well, and life was good.
Freeblood lifted his head to a heart-stopping sunset in the Highlands, streaks of orange and gold blazing on the horizon, casting a red glow on the clouds. Jagged silhouettes of trees and hills, shadowed in black, served as the perfect division between a sky on fire and its molten reflection in the loch below. He shivered from the cold evening air, but his mind was elsewhere. He knew where his future lay. As tough as his
relationship was with Dar, he was more a father figure than his own father. Pushing his hands through his mop of brown hair, he sat on a rock and let the tears flow.
14
Awakenings
A sharp knock brought Etain to her bedroom door, a towel wrapped around her. “Linq. I wasn’t expecting you. Has something happened?”
He sucked in a breath, surprised again by her state of undress, and turned his head. “No. Nothing has changed. Apologies, milady. I wasn't aware you were bathing. I can come back...”
Etain looked down at the towel, hitched it up a little higher, and laughed. She reached for his arm. “Don't be ridiculous. Come in. I was just soaking my sore bum. It’s been a while since I’ve sat in a saddle the better part of a day. Come on,” she said, pulling him into the room. “I was turning into a prune anyway. Let’s have a chat.”
He moved no farther than the door. “Dar would not appreciate-”
“Dar doesn’t appreciate anything at the moment.” She linked her arm through his. “Please stay. You’re as much my friend as you are Dar’s. I promise no one’s honor will be compromised.”
He displayed an uncomfortable smile, trying to forget the image of a naked Etain atop his best friend. “The wizards have found something on your brother.”
“Already? How’d they find him so quickly?” Etain motioned him to the overstuffed chairs in front of the stone fireplace.
He sat across from her but kept his eyes on the orange-and-yellow flames of the fire. “He’s been located in a village north of Inferno's.”
“Seriously? How long has he been there?”
“Nothing is certain.”
She popped up from her seat. “My brother…,” she murmured, pacing back and forth, then stopped. “How far north?”
Linq could no longer maintain propriety and looked her in the eye. “On horseback? A day, maybe two.”
Her eyes glittered with excitement. “Forget the horses. Inferno’s truck will have me there in a couple hours.”
“That would not be in your best interests, Etain. As the High Lord is out of commission, others may take…liberties.”
“What liberties? I’ll be there and back before anyone even knows I’ve left.”
“Think, Etain. You are the High Lady of Kaos.”
She dismissed the warning with a roll of her eyes. “It’s my brother, Linq.”
Confronted with the lady’s stubborn streak, his voice took on a more commanding tone. “Then a few more days won’t make much difference. We'll borrow horses from Inferno and take the back roads.”
“We?” Etain shook her head. “Oh, no, no, no. There is no ‘we’. It’s gonna be weird enough trying to explain me, let alone having an elf to explain, too.”
Linq pushed out of the chair. “I hate to disagree with our High Lady, but you will not leave this palace alone. Dar would have my head if he knew you left with no escort, nor could I forgive myself should something untoward happen.”
Sparks of silver glinted through her hair and her eyes sparkled with defiance. “I think you love to disagree, especially when it’s our High Lady. I don’t need an escort. I’m quite capable of finding my brother and bringing him home without anything bad happening.”
Suddenly, he understood Dar's desire to be with this vexation of a woman. Granted, her outward beauty caught one’s attention, a misconceived perception of vulnerability drawing you in, but it was her courage, her determination, and her willingness to face her fears that ensnared loyalty to the end. Although impressed by this sudden revelation, his words did not betray his thoughts.
“You may well be capable of finding the boy, but what happens when he turns out to be exactly like Midir? Dar won’t be waiting in the shadows to step in and save you this time.”
She threw herself into her chair and stared at the fire. Linq returned to his seat, feeling satisfied his point had been made, albeit not well-received. “Dar can’t protect you, and I won’t allow you to leave alone. He’s been my friend for many years and I don’t plan to compromise that friendship by watching his new bride traipse off after someone she hasn't seen since she was a child. I guarantee your brother isn’t the same person you remember.” Sulking, she cut a sideways glare at the elf. “Have you forgotten the evil Midir perpetrated on Dar and his family…or, for that matter, your family? I don’t see how living with that demon could’ve left a positive impression on a young boy.”
She sat up straight, reclaiming a semblance of regal composure. “Fine. We leave before dawn. I suggest you get some rest. We have a lot of traveling to do.” She escorted him to the door.
Before stepping out, he had one more thing to say. “You're right about you and me, Etain. We may have met because of Dar, but we’ve become friends, too. Something I’d like to believe would’ve happened with or without the Krymerian.” He disappeared down the hallway before she had a chance to speak.
Early the next morning, long before most of Nunnehi awakened, Etain and Linq shared a light breakfast while the cook’s assistants packed a bag with enough food and drink to last them several days.
As they finished their meal, Alatariel joined them at the table. “I'm glad I caught you before you left. Linq, I know you will take good care of our Lady Etain.”
“If for no other reason than to avoid the High Lord's wrath,” Linq teased. He picked up the bag of supplies and headed for the door. “You coming, Etain?”
She didn’t budge from her seat. “I'll be with you in a minute, Linq. Meet me by the back gate in five minutes.” As he walked out, her gaze moved to the queen. “I want to thank you again for your generosity. You didn't have to help us.”
Alatariel gave her a serene smile. “Etain, you are a part of my family now. We take care of each other.”
“Yes, you did say that,” she said, ruminating over her words. She eyed her with a questioning look. “You keep saying we're family. I assume it’s meant in a figurative way?”
“All I will say is that my and Dar’s grandmothers were sisters, both elves. One fell in love with a tall, handsome Krymerian, while the other found love with one of her own.”
Etain’s eyes widened. “Shut up. He didn’t tell me that part of his family history.”
Alatariel chuckled. “I doubt he knows. His father swore us to secrecy.”
“How do you keep something like that secret? Didn’t Dar know his grandmother?”
“He did, but she was a clever woman. Very few Krymerians knew of her heritage.”
“Why hide it?”
The queen sighed. “A king of Krymeria must be of pure blood. A custom Dar’s grandfather didn’t believe in. Or perhaps it was a show of rebellion. He and his father, Darieous, didn’t always see eye to eye.”
“Well, I think you just broke your promise.”
A mischievous grin on her lips, Alatariel winked. “I only promised not to tell Dar. The old man never counted on you coming along.”
“I should go before Linq comes looking for me again.” The women embraced. “You’ve made me feel so welcome. If I may, I’d like to think of you as a sister.”
“I would like it very much. Be safe and return soon.”
“Please tell Dar…” She hesitated, unsure of what to say. “Well, tell him I’ll be back. Please explain why I had to leave.”
Alatariel touched her hand, giving it a comforting squeeze. “I will make sure he understands.”
“Thank you.” Etain turned to leave. “Oh, I forgot something in my room. See you soon, Rie.”
With no intention of returning to her room, she glanced over her shoulder and changed direction, heading outside. She veered from the back gate, where she had told Linq to meet her, to the front gate.
Please forgive me, Linq. Dar needs you more than I do.
Even though it was too early for most in the city to be up, she kept a vigilant eye, keen to make sure no one followed her. Those who were awake, having better things to do such as set up shop, didn’t show much interest in the H
igh Lady, other than an occasional wave or ‘good morning’.
Once in the countryside, it took time, but she finally found the right hill and meandered up to the spot from where they had originally entered. Happy as she was in finding it, she frowned.
“Damn...”
“Not much of a strategist, are you?” Linq stepped out from behind a large boulder.
Hands on hips, she grinned. “Obviously not. How long have you been here?”
“For a bit. I was about to head down when you came up the hill.”
“Yeah, I didn’t think I’d ever find the right place.” She looked away, shuffling her feet. “You know, Linq-”
He waved her off. “I would’ve tried the same thing in your place.”
“Perhaps, but you would've been successful.”
“Definitely.” He smiled. “Come on. We have a brother to find.” Speaking the sacred words to open the portal back to the Alamir world, it soon appeared. “Where to first, milady?”
“Inferno's to beg the use of his horses.”
He raised his eyebrows. “No Hummer?”
She smirked. “No Hummer.”
When they stepped through the portal into a wet and chilly Welsh evening, Etain fell to her knees, scratching at her throat. “Can’t…breathe.”
Linq nearly went down with her but was able to maintain his footing. He crouched beside her. “What is it?”
She gasped and choked, desperately trying to pull air into her lungs, stabbing a finger at the portal. Linq closed the rift with a wave of his hand. Her throat opened, and she gulped in mouthfuls of air.
He shoved his flask at her. “This will help.”
She took a couple sips. “Thank you. Dar’s awake.” She handed him the flask, pushing the hair from her face. “And he’s furious.”
“You’re doing the right thing, Etain. They’ll have him to rights in no time.” Linq helped her up.
“I don’t envy their task,” she said, slapping the dirt from her leathers. “It’s gonna take the patience of a saint and whatever else a war wizard can come up with to deal with that tiger.”