“She never said a word to me.”
“That she didn’t explain.” Some of the tension seemed to ease from her father as he slipped the chain around his neck. “But if I were to guess, I’d say she wanted you here now and thought telling you might change the timing. Then again, guessing the plans of a seer is almost always impossible.”
Arlyn’s eyes narrowed on the necklace. “She wore that for as long as I can remember but never said it was yours. Now that you have it back, does it mean you can bond again?”
“We never bonded in the first place. I didn’t want to speak the words until she was here.” Lyr shook his head as his hand closed around the metal. “But no. I’ve never heard of anyone finding a second aenac—soulbonded. There are a few rare bondings with more than two partners, but that isn’t quite the same. I’ve never been drawn to multiple partners, in any case.”
“Ugh.” Arlyn coughed. “I didn’t need to know that.”
A slow smile split his face, although his eyes barely lightened with it. “Sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”
“Yeah. So.” Arlyn gestured at the pendant he still held. “It’s something you wear anyway, even with no intention of bonding?”
“Each necklace is unique to the owner. It is engraved with indicators of our House and family and imbued with our own energy.” He let the pendant drop against his chest. “Many wear it their whole lives and never find a bonded. Your mother asked me to put it back on. In her letter.”
“Why?”
Lyr shrugged. “In her memory. That’s all she said. And I will do so.” His face twisted with the pain that seemed to hum through the air. “Even unto my grave.”
Arlyn stared down at her food, uncertain what she was about to eat or if she even wanted to eat it. After they had checked on Kai and found him resting peacefully, her father had insisted she come with him to the dining room she’d found on her rambles the night before. The room was even more beautiful in daylight, the broad windows giving the impression of eating in the garden. Well, attempting to eat.
Their bread was easy enough to understand. It was dark and seemed to consist of several types of unfamiliar grains, but she could still tell exactly what it was. Beside the plate of bread, there sat a bowl of some kind of large, nut-looking objects, a saucer filled with a dark, syrupy liquid, and a small, steaming cup of tea. No utensils in sight. Frowning, she picked up the napkin that lay on the table next to her food and placed it in her lap.
“Arlyn,” Lyr said with amusement. “This is not a formal meal. Just follow what I do and stop worrying.”
“It isn’t just that.” She held up one of the nut-things. “I have no idea what most of this is. Last night, I was sent a tray with bread, cheese, and meat. Different, but nothing this unusual.”
“Ah, yes.” His lips curled up into a smile. “I wasn’t thinking. Your mother was quite confused when I asked for nuts and fruit in the mornings. Watch.”
Lyr took one of the nuts and dipped it in the syrupy substance, twisting it over the saucer until nothing dripped off, then ate it. After a brief hesitation, Arlyn did the same. The taste of honey burst upon her tongue, blending with the warm tones of the nut. Her eyes slipped closed as she savored each nuance. Like macadamia dipped in chocolate-infused honey.
When she opened her eyes, her father had sliced off a piece of the bread and was dipping it, too, in the honey. Instead of copying him this time, she decided to try the tea. The odd, light mix of minty, sweet, and spicy was more pleasant than it should have been. So far, the breakfast was strange but delicious.
Her father offered her some fruit, and Arlyn took a wedge, lifting it closer to examine it. It had a pale center like an apple or pear but with a thick, light orange skin. With a frown, she sniffed. It smelled for all the world like a grape. “What is this?”
“Kehren fruit.”
“Is this world different?” Arlyn watched him settle a few pieces of fruit around the rim of his syrup bowl. “Am I on another planet?”
“Yes.” Lyr shrugged. “And no. There is much debate on the subject. Our best theory is that this is a dimension far, far removed. So far away the planet that takes up this space is not the same at all. But it is impossible for us to prove.”
With a wince, Arlyn set her own fruit in the syrup. “I don’t think I understand. You mean this planet takes up the same space in the universe? But it has two moons.”
Lyr took a bite, frowning as he chewed. “You’ve heard of alternate realities? Parallel dimensions?”
“Sure,” Arlyn answered. “There are tons of theories on that. Different timelines, even.”
“Though we cannot cross time, the fae are quite deft at traveling between dimensions. When the humans began to grow in numbers and power, many of our kind did just that. But they stayed fairly close to Earth.”
“Like the Sidhe and their hills.”
“Yes.” He nodded. “Our queen searched the Veil for a place much farther removed. And found this place. Much of it is a mystery even after millennia.”
Arlyn stared at the bowl of syrup as she processed his words. Too bad she couldn’t take in what Lyr had said as easily as the fruit absorbed the syrup. Another planet that wasn’t? She groaned. “Never mind. I’m going to have to think about this.”
He grinned. “You and a few hundred Moranaian philosophers.”
With an answering smile, she braved the slice of kehren. Then her eyes slid closed on a moan. What magic was this? Like eating a grape-flavored candy apple.
At her father’s chuckle, she shrugged. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be. Laiala has much the same reaction.”
“What does that mean?”
“Laiala? It means mother.”
Arlyn enjoyed a couple more slices of fruit, then pushed the dish of syrup away. She took a deep breath, bracing herself, and met Lyr’s eyes. “So are you going to tell me about the soulbond?”
He pushed aside his own dish. “Now is as good a time as any, I suppose.”
She lifted a brow. “That dire?”
“No.” Lyr let out a huff. “I’m still upset at Kai.”
“Okay. So spill it.” Arlyn grimaced at her father’s blank look. “Sorry. Tell me about it.”
Lyr leaned back in his chair. “Elven relationships are both extremely complicated and quite easy. We have many levels of courtship, from satisfying physical needs to alliances for the purpose of producing children to long-term commitments. And then we have the soulbond.”
“But what is it?”
His lips twisted wryly at her interruption, but he didn’t comment on it. “Each of us has one, or rarely more, whose soul matches ours perfectly, called our soulbonded. It’s similar to the human concept of a soul mate, except we do not see ourselves as being completed by our mate. We are not each one half of the same soul. It is simply that one is able to bond with the other. Literally.”
“Are you saying—” Her mouth worked a few times before she could force the words from her throat. “Kai connected our souls? Oh my god, I am going to kill him. How dare he!”
“Arlyn, let me finish.” His smile slipped away. “Few elves ever find their soulbonded, yet that is the most sought-after relationship for our kind. It is something to be treasured above all things.”
“So you think it’s okay for him to bond to me without making sure I understand what it means?”
“Absolutely not.” Lyr shifted forward to grip her hand. “It was not okay. Even he knows that.”
Arlyn pulled away, then regretted the move at her father’s stricken expression. She took a deep breath to steady herself before putting her hand back in his. “I’m sorry. It’s not your fault. You just seem so calm about it all.”
His grip tightened. “I almost throttled my best friend of five hundred years.”
“Oh.”
Lyr looked down at their hands, and his expression tightened. “Kai only started the bond. To be complete, you would have to give him a token in return. Then the
re is consummation.”
“Consummation?” Her brow wrinkled. “So this is a male/female kind of thing?”
His lips quirked. “No. It’s not about how sex is done. It’s about intimacy.”
This time, when she pulled at her hand, he released her with no sign of upset. Really, though, this was not a discussion she wanted to have with her father. “That’s—” Arlyn almost choked on her nervous laugh. “Anyway. So can I undo what he started?”
Lyr seemed to pale some as he leaned back. “A priest can break the bond. But it can’t be reforged.”
Her mouth fell open on a gasp. If soulbonds were so rare, then severing this one would end her only chance. Why had she taken that necklace? She should never have been so hasty. “What would happen then?”
“Little would change for you.” Lyr looked down at the table, where his fingers tapped a restless tune. Then his eyes met hers again. “But for Kai? Severing a bond is only done when one of the partners has done something unspeakable. Everyone would assume he had committed an unforgivable act. Something horrible, anathema. He would no longer be part of our family, and I doubt his father’s house would take him back.”
Arlyn pressed a hand against the ache in her chest. “Harsh.”
“None would blame you if you decided to go before a priest.” Lyr sighed. “But give it time. Consider what you really want. I’d not see you be as hasty as Kai in this.”
“I will think about it.”
“Good.” Lyr stood, offering her a hand. “Now, go get some rest. Then we’ll go see Lial and have him test you.”
Arlyn winced but let him help her to her feet. “If we have to.”
Kai’s head was thrashing back and forth across the pillow when Arlyn returned to her room. She checked herself at the last moment, closing the door gently instead of slamming it, before she rushed to his side. The healer had said the wounds were barely knit together, and Kai’s movements could reopen them. With soft, meaningless murmurs, she stroked a hand through his hair, over and over, until he stilled.
Kai broke into her thoughts. “Arlyn?”
“Why aren’t you sleeping?”
“Nightmares, hallucinations. I don’t know anymore.”
She pulled a chair up to his bed, sat, and took his hand. “You have to lie still, Kai. I will stay if it helps.”
“Yes. Please.” He fell silent for a moment. “Have you seen Moren? I thought he spoke to me earlier, but Lial said he wasn’t here. Then I dreamed he was trying to kill me. He wouldn’t do that. We’ve never been close, but he’s my brother.”
“Kai, hush. Your brother has not been here. As a visitor, he would have spoken to Lyr before coming to your room, right?”
“Of course.”
“I have been with Lyr since I left you, and no one named Moren spoke to him. It was just a dream.” At her words, he relaxed. He drifted back to sleep as she continued stroking his hair.
The door clicked open, and the healer strode in. Glaring at Arlyn, he halted on the other side of the bed. “Please stop upsetting him. I have already had to calm him once.”
“It’s not my fault.” Arlyn scowled back. “He was thrashing around when I came in. After I got him settled down, he told me he was having nightmares and that his brother had been here.”
“That again. I do not understand it. He is not feverish, nor does he have an infection. No reason for hallucinations. But after such a trauma, and as sleep-deprived as he was, nothing should have been able to wake him. I am surprised he is even capable of dreaming.”
Lial stopped speaking long enough to sketch some kind of symbol over Kai. It glowed for only a moment before disappearing. “Clechtan. Kai has not regained any of his energy since being here. In fact, he has lost some. He is low enough to be delirious.”
“But why?”
“I am not certain.” Frowning, Lial ran a hand through his hair. “I made sure the foreign iron from the blade was flushed from his system, but I can think of little else that would drain energy in such a steady stream.”
A sudden suspicion sank into Arlyn’s chest, tightening it. She tossed a look over her shoulder, then groaned. The sword she’d brought from Earth was propped in the corner next to her pack. “Damn,” she breathed.
She heard the healer mutter something in Moranaian. Probably a curse. Arlyn stood and retrieved the sword, then took it to the far end of the room. When she looked back, Lial’s glare had intensified so much she began to worry what he might do. Healers didn’t usually hurt people. Did they?
“Are you trying to kill him?”
“Excuse me?” She stiffened. “That was uncalled for.”
Letting out a long sigh, Lial rubbed his forehead, some of the tension seeming to drain from his body. “Forgive me for my ill temper. In the last thirty hours, I have attended a difficult birth, set and healed two broken bones, and stitched up Kai, a long-time friend. Every time I go to rest, he stirs. But I should not have taken out my frustration on you.”
Arlyn stared at him, noticing then the white lines of exhaustion around his mouth and the dark circles under his eyes. Meeting his gaze, she hefted the sword. “Fine. I get that. If you’re done harassing me, do you happen to have any ideas about this?”
His lips twisted up. Considering his own attitude, maybe he appreciated her snark. “Put it in the closet for now. I’ll see if I can find some silk to wrap it in later.”
“Okay.” Arlyn opened the door leading to the changing area and waved back toward Kai. “You go do…whatever you do.”
When she returned, Lial was sitting in the chair she’d pulled up to the bed, his fingers massaging his temples. He looked even more pale and drawn than he had moments before, and Arlyn wondered what cost he paid for healing. From the looks of him, a high one. Her stomach muscles unclenched as the anger she’d been nursing released.
He glanced up. “I placed Kai into a deep sleep. You should take the opportunity to rest.”
“You’re one to talk.” She smiled, softening her words. “But yeah, I should. Lyr wanted me to. He wants you to test my bloodlines later.”
“I can do that now.” Lial stood. “Come, sit. I’ll take care of that before I go.”
Arlyn hoped he didn’t notice how her hands trembled as she approached. “Now? Surely, it can wait. I’m sure Lyr will want to be here. And you’re tired.”
Lial moved aside and gestured to the chair. “Sit. It’s a simple spell, and I’d like a few solid hours of sleep without interruption. I’ll have to check on Kai soon enough as it is.”
Her fingers twisted together as she took the seat, her stomach tightening once more. Arlyn had no reason to be nervous. None. But she was. As his magic swirled around her, she squeezed her eyes shut. Whatever the healer found, she would just have to face.
Despite all that had happened in the last day, Lyr could not afford to ignore his work. He had countless tasks to attend to for his estate and the nearby village, and many of them had been forgotten in the wake of Arlyn’s arrival. Since the season had just turned to Toren, which began the day after the solstice, everyone wanted to finish outdoor projects before the harvest. He had to review requests for home repairs and additions and even a few for new houses to be built, though that was usually done in the spring when the weather was cooler.
Lyr signed yet another paper and shuffled it into a stack. As he slid the pile aside, the back of his hand brushed something hard, and he shifted a few more papers to find the source. His palm hovered for a moment over the leather cover of the book before he settled his hand on the top. His record book. The one he always returned to the drawer of his desk. He opened it to the latest page and found it wrinkled as though someone had tried to rip it out. Lyr had spelled it against being torn or copied, either physically or magically, but someone with a good memory could have gained quite a bit of information.
He read the last words recorded: Nothing that can’t wait for my written report. It seemed too coincidental that someone had tried to remo
ve the record of Kai’s latest mission about the same time he was attacked. But why? Lyr was not accustomed to this kind of intrigue. For at least a millennium, diplomatic relations with Earth and its related fae had been quiet. The underhill elves had rarely spoken to them, and the Moranaian ones cared little for the humans. Everything had changed.
Lyr traced an additional glyph over the book, ensuring only someone keyed to the estate could read it. He should have done so sooner, but it had seemed unnecessary. Now he had to discover how word of the negotiations with the Seelie had gotten out and to figure out the apparent connection between Kai’s attack and his father’s murder.
When he’d reached out to Kai after the attack, Kai had said something about the Sidhe, but his words had been jumbled by pain. A warning about interfering in their affairs? But if a Sidhe assassin had made it undetected onto Moranaia, Lyr had greater problems. The portal was spelled to alert the land guards of any such access. Someone powerful enough to interfere with that could cause a great deal of harm.
Lyr tucked the book back in its drawer and added another locking spell. The warning had probably been a false one. No, it was more likely that a Moranaian was to blame. But finding who would dislike his work with the Sidhe to this extent? Next to impossible. It would be easier to find someone who did want to travel to Earth on behalf of the Sidhe.
Forty or so millennia of relative peace—well, except for the early wars with the dragons—tended to make a people complacent.
As Lyr lifted a report on potential crop yield from yet another stack, he sensed Lial’s presence, seeking communication. “Yes?”
“I have completed my analysis of your daughter’s bloodlines.”
Lyr sat the paper down before he wrinkled it. “And?”
“Her mother was a quarter Moranaian. Aimee’s grandfather was from the Baran family on the Taian branch.”
“You are certain?” He let out a long breath, ruffling the stacks on the desk. “You have no doubt?”
A bit of Lial’s impatience slipped through their link. “I trained for ten years alone on identifying every bloodline on Moranaia. I am sure.”
Soulbound (The Return of the Elves Book 1) Page 9