Edgelanders (Serpent of Time)

by Jennifer Melzer

  “Logren tells me you wish to make an alliance with the U’lfer.” He jumped straight into the business at hand, not wanting to drag it out any longer than necessary.

  “This is true,” Hodon nodded, layering chunks of cheese onto his plate and crumbling a bite off with the tips of his fingers before feeding it between his bearded lips. “For far too long we have been scorned by the U’lfer because our blood was impure and we were unable to rouse the beast beneath our skin, but the return of the Light of Madra from her quest will change this, will make us equals, so to speak. We are willing to overlook the sins of the past and embrace them as brothers.”

  “For a price,” Vilnjar added cynically. “He has also told me you would have the dwindling numbers stand with you to face the world of men, but this is folly. Even if the U’lfer were to accept such an alliance, we would be less than two thousand.”

  “Two thousand wolves,” Hodon began, “are worth more than ten thousand men.”

  “And you expect that the waking of your spirits when the Light of Madra returns from with the Horns of Llorveth will teach you all you need to know about being wolves?”

  “We have been wolves since our birth, just like the U’lfer. What is there to learn?” Logren interjected, garnering a steady raise of Hodon’s hand to silence him.

  “And even more, how can you even be certain that these horns your seers speak of will even wake your dormant spirits?”

  “Because it has been seen!” Logren’s open palm slapped the top of the table, ringing silence that lingered several minutes after he’d shouted his anger.

  Hodon pinched his lips tight together, still chewing behind his lips, and then he casually swallowed. “Logren tells me you are not one to put stock in the word of those who’ve seen.”

  Vilnjar lowered his head. “The only living seer in Drekne chose silence when our people needed guidance most,” he muttered. “Your aunt,” he lifted his eyes again to Logren, “Rhiorna. In a time when word from the gods could have brought us all hope, she allowed the Council of the Nine to overrun her and abandon everything we were. She played feeble, mute and blind for ten years, only speaking the night my brother brought Lorelei into our hall.”

  “Because she knew that it would come to this,” Logren argued. “She did what she had to do, what Llorveth willed her to.”

  A disbelieving scoff caught in the back of his throat and for a time he stared over Logren’s shoulder at the billowing plume of black smoke rising from the oil lamp that hung behind him. None of them had been there, none of them could even begin to imagine what lies were spoken after Rhiorna closed her mouth and her eyes.

  “You have no idea what our people suffered because of her silence. She was a wise woman, her wisdom revered. They say she walked so closely with Llorveth that she could clear see the thread of every path that sat before her, and yet when the time came she allowed the council to betray her own brother and his men. She could have intervened.” She could have saved all of them with just a few well-placed words, and yet she had said nothing. “No, I’m afraid you’ll have to forgive me if I do not celebrate and hang upon the words of those who’ve seen.”

  “The visions of those who see are both a blessing and a curse, Vilnjar,” Hodon began, crumbling bits of dry cheese between his fingers and watching them dribble onto the plate in front of him. “Because we do not see, we cannot even begin to imagine how difficult it is for them to discern how much is too much, when it is not enough. The gods whisper in their ears, tell them what they can and cannot reveal, and for many a seer this knowledge is nothing short of madness. Tell me,” he paused thoughtfully, the hunk of cheese in his hand dangling from slack fingers over the plate as he postured, “If Llorveth came to you right now and told you that your brother was going to die and you could not tell him, would you defy the will of a god?”

  The thought of his brother dying out there on the fool’s errand he planned to partake had been a very real possibility in the back of his mind, and though he wanted desperately to stop Finn from pursuing utter madness, he had made his intention very clear.

  “Llorveth could never trust me with such a secret.”

  “And that is why is you do not see. We cannot begin to understand the will of the gods, for we only hear what they have to say through those they choose to speak through.”

  “How do we know that it is truly the voice of Llorveth who speaks to these seers and not madness, or even worse some treachery on the part of Foreln or some other vengeful god who would steer us into extinction?”

  “We do not know,” Hodon shook his head. “But when we see the evidence of those visions come to pass it is wisdom to ensure they continue on as they were meant to unfold. Not even the U’lfer can deny that when it is presented to them.”

  Lifting his hand, Vilnjar’s fingers scratched through the stubble on his chin.

  “We would offer your people freedom,” Hodon went on. “A place here among our walls where they are free to embrace their wolves.”

  “In exchange for their promise to ally themselves with you in another foolish war? The council would never accept this.”

  Hodon leaned back in his chair, his strong hands curled into loose fists atop the table. “The Council of the Nine is only seven. Seven disposable figure this world will surely not miss.”

  “You mean… to kill them?”

  “If they resist our terms, though that is a small if. Yovenna has already told me that our offer will not be well-received by the council.”

  “I cannot…” he shook his head.

  “You still consider yourself one of them?” the old warrior in front of him asked. “Even as they cast you out, tried to have you killed while you were vulnerable and shackled in silver? Tell me this, Vilnjar the Strong, what is to become of Deken and Eornlaith’s daughter? The sister you left behind? Will they treat her fairly? Or will they punish her simply for being your sister?”

  Swallowing hard, his throat ached with thoughts of Ruwena, of her sorrowful protests as he told her he had to go, he had to look after Finn. The hurt look in her eyes when he chose to ignore the bond between them in order to keep his brother in line—a task he was failing most miserably. He remembered the last words he’d said to her, that he was doing the right thing, he could feel it in his heart, but his heart had only been thinking of Finn and the promises he’d made to their mother.

  Before he could answer Hodon continued. “There is a home for her here, Vilnjar. A place where she can be the strong wolf the seers tell me she is meant to be. A place where she can be herself, perhaps even find her mate.”

  “What is your plan?” he finally asked.

  “A simple missive, well-worded with your help, announcing our presence and proposing an alliance.”

  “And if they refuse?”

  “They will not.”

  “But the council…”

  “As I’ve already said, the council will not be missed.”

  He closed his eyes, his mind swarming with discontented thoughts, the beast within pacing the confines of his confused soul. Not a moment passed when he didn’t suffer the guilty conscience of leaving his sister behind, and though he hated to admit it, even if just to himself, Rue would thrive in a place like Dunvarak. More than thrive, she would rise a great leader among them all if given the chance to prove her worth.

  “Perhaps you should bypass the council altogether,” he said meekly, the guilt churning like fire in his gut. “Send word instead Galfon Wild-Heart. He was my opponent when I ran for council, and unchosen because he sought to return to the old ways. Many supported him during the election, and some even claimed the results were fixed when I was chosen over him.”

  “Galfon Wild-Heart,” Hodon nodded slowly, steepling his fingers beneath his chin. “I remember the man. He was fair, treated the half-sons and daughters well, as I recall. Loyal to Rognar and all of his ideals. How best can we appeal to his senses on this matter?”

  And so Vilnjar ignored the painfu
l burn in his stomach, yielding to Hodon’s wishes just as Logren said he would. For his sister, he told himself later, but inside he knew it went so much deeper than that.

  CHAPTER FORTY

  Lorelei started dragging him all over Dunvarak shortly after they rose from bed that morning, making preparations for their departure on the morrow. For the most part he got a good night’s sleep, probably the first he experienced since she came into his life, and when he woke to find her snuggled up on her side against him, her small hand intertwined with his, Finn felt more than just content. He laid there on his back for a long time while she slept, listening to her breath, feeling the simultaneous rhythm of their hearts and ignoring the tightening of his trousers as the beast whispered inside him.

  Take her, show her, make her feel how strong the bond between us can be.

  A pure wolf would appreciate such a dominating gesture, the full-force of her mate’s desire consuming him until he had no choice but to overpower and claim her, but she was not a wolf. Not yet. Taking her without consent would damage the bare thread of trust he had managed to establish with her and destroy any chance he might have of ever coming to know her in that way.

  The wolf disagreed. It felt the beast inside her in ways the man could not; it knew what wonders they could share if only she let him show her. If only they could feel that way together, enjoy the pleasures of the flesh and soul as one, she would never doubt their bond.

  He fought with his beast for almost an hour, mentally exhausting himself before it was even time to get out of bed. That aching weariness followed him everywhere he went for the rest of the day. He could feel it in the marrow of his bones, which did not bode well for the evening festivities Logren announced that morning at breakfast. Another feast in the great hall with music, food, drinking, singing, dancing and more stories from the old woman.

  A farewell feast for the Light of Madra, where everyone’s well wishes could be received.

  By the time they were leaving the lyceum, where the archmage enchanted her blade and shield, Finn felt relatively sure that a good long nap was next on his to-do list, but the princess wouldn’t hear of it. She promised to pay a visit to the old woman, which Finn insisted she could do without him, but she drug him along anyway, only stopping at the sound of her name on the steps of the lyceum at their backs.

  “Lady Lorelei.”

  Finn felt chills of annoyance trickle the length of his weary spine when he recognized that voice. They’d managed to go all morning without a single interaction from the half-elven mage, and Finn actually started to foolishly believe he would get an entire day alone in her company before embarking on the long journey with Brendolowyn tagging along, vying for her attention and affection.

  “Brendolowyn,” she gasped, spinning around to greet him.

  He swore she cooed when she said the mage’s name, like the pulse of her aura lightening with intrigue and excitement that immediately triggered Finn’s jealousy. She had never cooed his name that way, and the beast inside tsked at him when he thought that, pointing out that she’d have more than just cooed his name if he had taken her as it urged him.

  “We were on our way to see Yovenna,” she explained, as if it was any of the mage’s business.

  “I had hoped to find you before the festivities. After you left last night I spent hours combing through the tomes in the library, searching for information on that matter we discussed. It was nearly sunup when I found this, but I think it may be of some use to you.”

  He glanced over at Finn cautiously, as if worried he might somehow expose some secret matter, but Finn was more concerned by the fact that she’d been to see Brendolowyn in the night and hadn’t told him. Had she gone to him after her visit with the seer, or sneaked out in the night while he slept? The rhythm of her heart altered slightly, a guilty rhythm that flushed her cheeks a soft shade of rose when he tilted his head downward to look at her. A jealous flare tightened the muscles of his stomach, his slack fists clenching almost unconsciously at his sides.

  “The former archmage, an old Alvarii who died some years ago, brought several old books with him from Thulasaliir when he made the passage. I remembered after you left that he’d bequeathed them to the library, and thought there might be something among his collection that would be of use to you. I sifted through them and came upon this. It is a book of first stories,” he went on, “the creation myths and legends of old recorded by ancient Alvarii scribes many ages ago so they would never be forgotten.”

  “That sounds promising.” She tentatively reached for the faded, well-worn book he held out to her.

  “It is written in Old Alvarii, but I took the liberty of translating the passages for you. The very thing we spoke of last night is in these pages.” The thin corners of his mouth jerked upright in a grin that seemed so desperate for her approval Finn thought he might throw up.

  Beneath his skin he could feel the overprotective beast within stirring at the thought of a challenge, and though he could almost hear his brother’s voice reminding him not even his beast would fare well against elven magic, Finn wanted to tear him apart nonetheless.

  “I’m not sure if it will be helpful to you in anyway, but I thought perhaps…”

  “I’m sure it will be very helpful,” she beamed, drawing the tome toward her chest. “Thank you for this, Bren.”

  “Of course,” he conceded with a humble lowering of his head. “I will not keep you from your tasks. I’m sure you are very busy and I too have many preparations to finish before we depart tomorrow. I should get back to them.”

  Yes, you should, Finn thought.

  “Have you slept at all?” There was so much concern in her voice, her head tilting and worry flashing in her eyes.

  “I slept a couple of hours this morning, and I will sleep like the dead tonight. I have known about this journey for so long, one would think I’d have better prepared for it before you arrived here.” The elf’s laughter only served to further stoke the fire of Finn’s jealousy. “Will I see you at the feast tonight?”

  “I’m a bit nervous about it, all those expectations, all those people looking to me for hope,” she confessed, “but I will be there.”

  “Good,” he nodded, glancing quickly toward Finn, then back to Lorelei before adding, “I hope we have time to speak there.”

  “I will make time,” she promised.

  He seemed to linger, the few seconds of his presence feeling like hours before he drew away reluctantly, heading back up the steps but pausing to look back at her again more than once. Finn scowled at him, an unspoken warning the elf didn’t miss, but seemed to smile at before finally ducking through the doors of the lyceum.

  “I hate that elf,” he muttered under his breath.

  “What?” Lorelei withdrew the satchel she’d slung over her back, opened the ties and slipped the book inside before drawing them tight again and shrugging it onto her shoulder. She really hadn’t heard him, he could tell by the way she lifted her innocent, almost tentative gaze to his, but the thunder of her guilty heart told him she got the gist of that muttered admission.

  “When did you find time yesterday to tell him all your secrets?” He sounded like a child, and he knew it, but he couldn’t help the way it made him feel. “Was it before or after you shared them with me?”

  “Does it matter?” She hiked her satchel up a little higher and started walking, her head lowering as she moved, as if she thought she could hide her shame from him. The fact that she felt shame only made him feel worse, angrier and more jealous than he’d ever felt in his life.

  “Does it…” he stammered. “It matters to me, Lorelei!”

  She could feel the rising flare of his temper, and the flippant use of her name frightened her a little. She stepped to the side to put some space between them, but still refused to look at him when she answered. “I couldn’t sleep last night,” she finally said. “I kept thinking about it, everything Yovenna told me and I thought… I don’t know, Finn. H
is people were the first to walk this world. I thought maybe he might know something.”

  “I know things.” He realized as soon as it left his lips it was probably the stupidest thing he’d ever said, but he couldn’t stop himself from furthering down the path of idiocy by reiterating it. “I know a lot of things.”

  “Not about that,” she shot back, her blood warming with anger. “You looked at me like my head was on fire when I told you what she’d said to me.” She stalked up onto the porch of an old cottage and scowled over her shoulder at him. “Maybe you should just go back to my brother’s.”

  “Why, so you can head back up to the lyceum and cozy up to your little elf friend? Share more secrets with him I couldn’t possibly understand?”

  Her wide eyes flitted toward the street, toward the few people whose attention was drawn by the sound of their raised voices. Pulling in a deep breath through her nose, he watched her nostrils flare outward as she took a step off the landing and planted herself right in front of him. She barely came to the middle of his chest, but the look in her eye terrified him more than any enemy he’d ever stood before in his life.

  “You think I haven’t seen the way he looks at you,” he gritted his teeth when he said that, felt bits of spittle fleck between his lips when he added, “or the way you look back?”

  “My eyes are my own,” she reminded him, an unspoken point that while every part of him belonged to her, she belonged to no one she did not choose, and the likelihood of her choosing him in that moment was slimmer than it had ever been in the short time they’d known one another. “I will look upon whoever I please, talk with whoever I wish, whenever I wish, and nothing you say or do will ever change that.”

  She knew those words were like a slap to the face, their sting bitter enough to numb his anger and make his jealous heart leap with regret. He had never felt so helpless against a woman before, completely at her whim because he know if she rejected him, he was doomed to spend the rest of his life broken and empty, alone and without her love. Why couldn’t he just make her see that, that simply knowing another man sought her affections was enough to shatter him into a thousand pieces and scatter his spirit to the wind.