Soulbound (The Return of the Elves Book 1)

by Bethany Adams

Her presence grew faint, her breathing shallow. Ralan dropped to his knees and gathered her hand in his, barely glancing at Norin’s open, empty eyes. The bastard deserved far worse than such a quick death. If only Lynia had pushed him away instead of trying to tug free. In that future, Norin would have tripped on the book and fallen to his death alone.

  Ralan heard Lial’s strangled gasp from the open door, then the shuffle of shoes along stone. The healer dropped to Lynia’s other side, his hands already glowing blue as he hovered them along her body. Ralan’s throat closed in on itself. So many futures. So many possibilities.

  If he’d started using his talents sooner, he could have stopped all of this.

  “Even the gods can only know the possibilities,” Megelien whispered in his mind. “Free will makes a fool of prophecy more often than you know.”

  Lial’s hand closed on Ralan’s wrist, drawing him back. He met his cousin’s worried gaze. “Well?”

  “Help me lift her to one of the tables.” Hands shaking, Lial stood. “I have cast a spell to keep her spine from further injury while we do. But I can’t heal her like this.”

  Ralan wondered at his cousin’s reaction even as he rushed to help. Were Lial and Lynia friends? He could think of no other reason why a healer as experienced as his cousin was so visibly shaken. Lial had once carried on a conversation about lunch options while healing a man who’d impaled himself in a fall. He never faltered.

  “Do I need to call for your assistant?” Ralan asked as they settled Lynia on a nearby table, one she and Norin had narrowly missed in the fall.

  “I already have.” A glint of resolve entered Lial’s eyes. “Now move. I need space if I’m to save her.”

  Ralan took a few paces back and shielded his eyes as the blue glow flared, brighter than before. When it didn’t fade after several moments, he moved back farther, turning his face to the door. There Eri waited, her hands twisted together and her face wet with tears. Heart lurching, he went to her.

  “I’m sorry. I couldn’t warn you.”

  He sank to his knees. “Come here, Eri.”

  She shuffled her feet for a moment before moving closer. “I couldn’t Look at what you would say. Please don’t hate me for not telling.”

  “Hush.” Ralan pulled his daughter into his arms and buried his face in her sweet-smelling hair. “I’m the one who’s sorry. We will work out the future together. Always.”

  Lyr struggled to keep his eyes open as his energy drained steadily away. Kai and Arlyn, chained with their hands above their heads to two of the other three walls, stared at him as he let out a groan. His heavy overcoat pulled at him, adding strain to his shoulders, and his wrists burned from the constant contact with cold iron. How could he be in this ridiculous situation? He was a warrior feared on the battlefield, yet here he was, shackled to a damn wall with his magic draining away with each breath.

  His mind grew sluggish, and he struggled to form any kind of plan. Surely, there was a way to get free. They were not in a dungeon; Allafon had only placed them here while he completed some unnamed task. Of course, he hardly had to do more considering the effect iron had on all of them. They couldn’t break even these simple shackles with magic.

  “I know you said your father didn’t like you,” Arlyn muttered to Kai. “But damn.”

  Kai’s expression hardened. “If he is my father. Maybe I’m a half-blood, too.”

  “No.” Lyr shook his head, then paused to let the world settle again. “In all the times Lial’s healed you, I think he would have noticed. That kind of weakness would have been obvious.”

  “Hey!” Arlyn cried out.

  Lyr winced. “Nothing against humans. But they do not heal the same way we do. It would take Lial more energy to accomplish, at the least.”

  Though her mouth thinned into a line, she tried to shrug, rattling the chains. “He didn’t complain about me. I’d think he would have.”

  “With your mother a quarter elven, it might—”

  Pain tore through him, cutting off his words. Lyr convulsed against the wall, and the iron drew blood as his arms jerked against the restraint. Laiala. A mortal wound. A moan slipped from his lips, but he hardly registered the sound.

  “It cannot be,” he whispered. Surely, it was a trick, some terrible attack.

  But the emptiness that trickled in as her soul started to slip away told him otherwise.

  He would not fail. Could not.

  Lial pulled in more power from the world around him and channeled it all to his gift. To the blue fire that swept him up until he could see nothing but the one he healed. Though his own chest was tight with fear, he let his training take over. He'd loved Lynia for too long to let her slip away because he couldn’t gain control of himself.

  The damage to her spine was grave, but he first had to close the wound on her side. His breath slipped out in a sigh of relief to find that Norin’s blade had been stopped by Lynia’s rib. A wound meant to slow her, not kill her. Lial sent his power into the cut, knitting muscle and flesh. Still, her breathing stuttered. She started to slip away.

  He scanned her abdomen and…there. Internal bleeding. Deftly, he healed that, too, then sent more of his power into her body to bolster her. “Stay with me, Lynia.”

  Lial let his inner eye follow the length of her spine, and he shuddered. Shattered in at least two places, badly broken in more. He needed more energy, for his reserves would never last through such taxing work. Clechtan, but he knew better than to let himself get so worn down. He glanced up, hoping his assistant had arrived, but only Ralan and Eri were there.

  “Ralan,” Lial called. “Come give me energy. You’re close enough in blood that it should take less for me to convert it.”

  His cousin nodded, then slipped away from the little girl after giving her shoulders a quick squeeze. Lial returned to work. When Ralan connected, he soaked up all the power he could and let it dive into the fire of his magic. Blue light flared, and he shut his eyes. He didn’t need to see.

  He needed to feel.

  Arlyn gasped as her father began to writhe, his unfocused eyes filled with pain. Was it the iron? She pulled at her arms, panic sucking the air from her lungs, but couldn’t work herself free. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

  Lyr’s body went lax, his sudden stillness almost more alarming. “It cannot be,” he whispered, his voice raw and broken.

  Her concern grew. “What?”

  “Laiala.” He looked up then with a face more desolate than she had ever seen. “She was wounded. I can barely sense her now.”

  Arlyn frowned over at Kai. “How could he know such a thing? He must be wrong.”

  “We are connected to our mothers in a bond nearly as strong as a soulbond. We spend the first nine months of our lives held within her soul, her energy. The more magical the being, the stronger the connection.”

  “But you can still sense her, right?” Arlyn pushed back the fear rising up her throat. “Maybe someone there can help her.”

  “Almost gone,” Lyr murmured.

  Arlyn shivered at his words. They had to get out of here. Even without her grandmother injured, Lyr was not doing well. At all. His skin was so pale now it was almost gray, and even she could tell he was losing energy fast. So was she—and Kai, to a lesser extent. If they didn’t escape soon, they were all dead.

  Another tug against her chains did nothing but bite the iron harder into her flesh. Arlyn glanced at Kai. “Any ideas?”

  “Against iron?” Kai thunked his head against the wall behind him, his eyes slipping closed. “No. None of us can work magic around it.”

  She ground her teeth together. “That’s stupid. There’s iron in our blood.”

  “It’s something in the energy. We can consume iron from something that has once been living, plant or animal, because that iron has already been converted to natural use. But cold iron, mined from the ground? Magic won’t flow through. At least not if you have the allergy.”

  With a grimace, A
rlyn looked up at the chains. So some elves could convert iron within their own bodies, but others couldn’t? She glared up at the metal. Could it have to do with magnetism? The innate polarity of iron? She recalled the burn of her injury during archery practice. The flakes in her arm had almost resisted her power, but she’d been too caught up to worry about it.

  Yes, they’d resisted. Until they hadn’t.

  Arlyn straightened, her eyes slipping closed. She ignored the low moan from her father and the rattle of chains as Kai shifted. But how to proceed? Shrugging, Arlyn thought back to all the times she’d used her magic. She let it sweep through her, filling her body until it reached her wrists and the iron that bound them.

  Like two magnets with positive ends shoved together, her magic and the metal pushed against each other. She shoved even harder, willing her power through. Willing herself free. From a distance, she heard Kai let out a curse, but she ignored him. Ignored everything but the battle burning around her wrists.

  Then, with a nearly audible click, the iron gave.

  Arlyn almost slumped against the wall. But she still wasn’t free. She opened her eyes to find Kai staring at her. “What?”

  “That trick.” He shook his head. “How did you do it?”

  “I kept pushing until I won.”

  A slow grin crossed his face. “I’m not sure if that’s insane or brilliant.”

  “Yet here we still are,” Arlyn answered, rattling the chains.

  Lyr groaned again, and her breath caught as his head lolled and his eyes slipped closed. Kai exchanged a worried glance with her, then said, “Let me try it.”

  Lial plopped down onto the table, digging his fingers into the edge to hold himself upright. Too much longer, and he’d fall flat on his face. His gaze fell on Lynia, and he let out a long breath at the color returning to her face. The bones of her spine weren’t completely mended, but he’d fixed the worst of her wounds.

  It would take him hours of painstaking work to knit shattered bone.

  His assistant, Elan, worked with Ralan to levitate Lynia onto a narrow board. Though Elan’s power was too minimal to be a full healer in charge of an entire estate, he was invaluable for the small things that had to be done. Like getting patients ready to move to Lial’s workroom so Lial could conserve his energy for healing. Or tending to minor injuries during a crisis. Crucial.

  Lial pushed to his feet, biting back a curse as he swayed. Miaran. He needed a vacation. But then, he’d probably end up healing people there, too. Smirking at the thought, he turned to follow Ralan and Elan as they carried Lynia toward the door. And jumped when a small hand closed around his wrist.

  He met his youngest cousin’s eyes. “Yes, Erinalia?”

  “Just Eri.” Her lips curved. “I’m close enough in blood to give you energy, too.”

  He could only blink at her. “I will be well enough. I could never take from a child, especially one so recently ill.”

  “You will if you want to save her.”

  “Eri.” His voice cut off as he registered the odd glint in her eyes. One Ralan had so often worn. But a child of that age? “Your father can help if needed. You are too young to attempt such a thing.”

  Power flared through her, gleaming from her golden gaze. “I’ve seen more than you have despite your many years. Take my offering or let her die.”

  Lial shuddered, even as he fought to stay on his feet. By the Gods, she was right. “Fine. If your father says—”

  Energy rushed in, stunning away his words. He straightened as his body converted it with little difficulty and his weakness faded. Tricky child. She’d known perfectly well that Lial was about to tell her to seek permission from her father. He gave her a look of censure, but she merely grinned. Then danced away after Ralan as though nothing had happened.

  Lial’s mouth curved up into an answering smile. He didn’t envy Ralan the raising of that one.

  Kai let out a long curse. So close that time. So close, but his power never made it past the iron. “I’m not sure I can do this.”

  Arlyn bit her lip. “Maybe you’re giving up too soon.”

  “Maybe it takes having human blood.”

  “I’ll try something else, then.” She huffed out a breath, blowing a strand of hair from her eyes. “Maybe I can force the iron open. I transported us without knowing how.”

  “No!” Kai jerked forward with a rattle of chains. “That is too risky.”

  “We need to try something.”

  Kai forced himself to relax. As well as he could relax while chained to a fucking wall. “I’ll try again. What’s that human saying? Three is a charm?”

  “The third time’s a charm,” she muttered.

  Kai’s eyes slipped closed, and he took several deep breaths. Once his mind had cleared of worry, he pulled energy from the ground beneath him. His first home—the place of his birth, a connection not even Allafon could sever. His energy wavered, and he had to force his mind away from that distracting thought as he gathered more into himself.

  He could worry about his father later.

  As Kai had seen Arlyn do, he shoved the power up, toward the chains. Like before, it fought him, pushing his energy away. Kai gritted his teeth. He was not going to let Arlyn hurt herself trying to find a way free. Gathering himself, pulling in more, he gave one last shove.

  And felt something in the iron give.

  Panting, Kai fell back against the wall. Sweat dripped into his eyes, and he twisted to rub his face on his sleeve. Arlyn grinned at him. “Guess my threat worked.”

  His brows rose. “You were bluffing?”

  “Only partially,” she answered, shrugging. “If you hadn’t succeeded, I’d have tried something else.”

  A groan from Lyr caught his attention. “I need to get us out of here. It should only take a moment to break through these simple locks.”

  Kai looked up at his shackles, focusing his power on the mechanism. Simple indeed. His fath—Allafon must have relied on the iron itself as a deterrent. Kai had learned the counter to these types of locks playing soldier as a child. A few heartbeats and a breath of magic, and the metal slid free.

  Rubbing his wrists, Kai took a few steps forward, then paused to look between Arlyn and Lyr. His bonded met his gaze. “Save my father. He’s the worst off.”

  His leaden feet refused to move, and he glanced between them again. Then Lyr’s head shot up, and he pinned Kai with his gaze. “Arlyn first. As Myern, I command it.”

  “Lyr—”

  “Now.”

  Though Kai’s chest ached, he wasted no more time. He rushed to Arlyn, gripping her shackles despite the instinctual shudder that raced through him. But the iron didn’t burn his skin, and his magic worked on the lock. The metal let out a soft click, then released her. With a cry, she slumped against him for a few breaths before pushing away.

  As his bonded steadied herself against the wall, her pain beat at him. Her injured arm burned as her blood rushed through, making his own breath catch. Kai struggled to separate her feelings from his own as he turned to release Lyr. If he could even convert more iron so soon. Arlyn had been so much better at the trick, but it would be difficult for her to concentrate while dealing with so much pain.

  Kai was halfway to Lyr when the door snapped open, Allafon’s voice preceding him. “I hope I have given you enough time to appreciate—” His voice cut off at the sight of Kai, and he gave a quick gesture to the two men behind him. “Well, well. Seems you have learned some interesting tricks. Norin said you were allergic to iron.”

  Lyr’s head snapped up, the sorrow in his eyes replaced by fury. “Norin?”

  “Too bad the fool is dead. I could kill him myself.” Allafon strode forward, his iron blade at the ready, then stopped to dance the knife almost playfully across Lyr’s chest. “I suggest you two stay where you are unless you want me to kill him immediately. Not that it matters, since he’ll die anyway.”

  Kai froze, even as one of the guards jerked him back. I
f only his ceremonial blade had not been taken. Decorative though it was, any weapon was better than nothing. Cool metal dug into his neck, just short of breaking the skin. Peresten, at least. He heard Arlyn’s muttered curse behind him, and he tensed.

  “Stay still,” he warned.

  Exasperation passed along their bond. “I’m not an idiot.”

  “Why are you really doing this?” Lyr asked. “Even if your bonded did betray you, it is not our fault. My father had no control over her actions.”

  “Oh, but I am certain he did. Your entire line is foolish, forever associating with those beneath us. Had he not sent her to meet with those glamour-wielding…” Allafon’s voice choked off as he struggled to control his anger. “Worst of all, you mingle with humans. Our family lived almost like gods until the first Moranaians abandoned Earth. For centuries, we struggled to retain our power until we were finally overrun. There were not enough of us left to face the fast-breeding animals. And now I am expected to serve as some minor lordling for an elf who ruts with humans? I think not. I will rule them, or I will kill them all. Once I have your portal.”

  Lyr straightened, his head taking on a regal tilt. “I doubt a human would deign to sleep with you. You are more animal than any I have ever met.”

  With a cry of rage, Allafon struck.

  The blow seemed to take forever, though it fell so quickly Arlyn barely had time to cry out. She jerked against the guard who held her, his knife breaking through skin before he forced her still. With a curse, the guard lowered the blade but tightened his grip. Blood dripped down her neck, but the pain didn’t register. All of her focus was on her father as Allafon stepped back, revealing the gash sliced across Lyr’s chest.

  Metal glinted, and her eyes widened to see the pendant revealed by the rip in his tunic. The necklace her mother had asked him to wear. Allafon cursed as Lyr glanced down, gaze softening on the pendant that had deflected most of the blow. “Thank you, Aimee.”

  “You still have the necklace.” Allafon scowled down at the wound. “I see you lied about being bonded to the human. Too bad your deceit will not save you again.”