The Tears of Elios

by Crista McHugh

  Her hands formed padded paws before she hit the ground, and she ran into the woods. Gregor's voice grew more and more distant as the darkness enveloped her. She ran until her lungs burned and her muscles ached. When a sob finally broke free, it manifested itself as a wolf's mournful howl.

  Exhausted, she sat beneath a tree and waited for the shaking to subside before she resumed her normal shape. She had trusted him. She had let him come closer to her than any other human before him. Yet he discovered things about her that no one should know. He cruelly reminded her of what she had been, and he wanted her to return to that. Her eyes burned from his betrayal. She was becoming disgustingly human if she was on the verge of tears, a sign she had been around them too long.

  Her body slid along the trunk until she was looking up at the moon through the branches. In the distance, her sister wolves serenaded the celestial body. She listened to their songs for hours and marveled how they harmonized with the blue sepharium she toyed with in her hand. Together, they created a soothing melody that lulled her to sleep.

  The moon had begun its descent when she awoke. The wolves were silent now. She raised her head and listened for another presence but only heard the wind rustling through the trees.

  She knew she should return to Gregor for the sake of the mission. They needed to find the Tears of Elios, and only she knew where they were. But she wondered if she could endure Gregor's presence after tonight. He knew far too many of her secrets, and he could use them against her.

  The cold pendant rubbed against her chest when she stood. Yet, despite having the ability to torment her, he had instead made her a gift—the first gift she had received since becoming a shape-shifter. Not even Galen had done so much for her. Yes, he had spied on her, but the necklace gave her the freedom to move among humans now.

  She lifted her eyes to heavens, shifted into a hawk, and soared above the trees as the icy wind whipped through her feathers. She’d gone further than she had first thought, and the first beams of sunlight peeked over the horizon when she returned to Gregor's cottage. She put on the muted green dress and brown cloak, changed into the plain human, and began saddling the horses in the barn.

  Duke found her first. She had just finished adjusting stirrups when the large dog ran into the stall, his ears flopping when he discover her there.

  “Duke, what is—” Gregor paused at the doorway, not recognizing her at first. Bloodstained strips of cloths wrapped his left hand, and she recoiled at the memory of her attack. “Ranealya?”

  She nodded, and a genuine smile lit up his face. She’d made the right decision to return.

  He inched closer to her but remained out of arm’s reach. “You came back?”

  “We have a mission to complete.”

  “Oh,” he replied, looking at his feet.

  She reached for his injured hand, and he flinched. Once he let her touch it, her fingers unraveled the bandages with great care. She winced when she saw jagged strips of skin that hung across his palm. Then an emotion she had not felt in years—shame—filled her chest, making it difficult to breathe. She hated that she had done this to him.

  “I'm sorry for last night, Ranealya.”

  She looked up in bewilderment. “No, Gregor, if any one should be apologizing, it's me. I need to learn to control my temper.” She slashed her palm with her nail and allowed the blood to seep from her fist onto his palm. As the drops fell onto his wounds, the skin knitted itself together, leaving no scar behind.

  Gregor pulled his hand away from hers and wiggled his fingers. “How did you do that?”

  Her wound healed faster than his. “Shape-shifters have their uses.”

  He finished admiring his hand and focused his attention on her. “I am glad you came back, though. I couldn't imagine doing this without you by my side.”

  Her throat choked up. By the Goddess, she was becoming sentimental over a simple human. She swallowed hard and pushed the knot down into her stomach so she could speak. “Precisely. After all, you don't know where to find the orbs.”

  “It's good to hear your sarcasm again.” He ran to the door with Duke close behind him. “I’ll be back a few minutes. Don't leave without me!” Then he disappeared from her sight.

  Will things ever return to normal between us?, she thought as she led the horses out of the barn.

  CHAPTER 14

  Gregor yawned as his horse plodded along the road. He stretched, trying to release the knots that had accumulated in his back over the last two nights and take the edge off the soreness in his thighs. He never realized how much he missed his soft bed. “Remind me again why we have to sleep on the ground?”

  “I want to avoid any unnecessary contact with humans.”

  He studied her as she rode ahead of him without showing any signs of fatigue. Of course, she was accustomed to sleeping outside. Just when he grew comfortable with thinking of her as a human, she would crudely remind him of her animalistic side. Last night, she’d produced a brace of rabbits for their dinner and regaled him with the story of how she had taken care to not rip their flesh when she caught them. He shuddered at the memory.

  “Ranealya, I always wondered something about you.” He waited until she cocked her head in his direction. “Do you have a favorite animal form?”

  She laughed a bit too long for his comfort. “What do you think it is?”

  “I'm not quite sure.” There was always something predatory about her—the glow her eyes, the way she moved, the sharp claws and fangs she displayed when in her normal form. “I've narrowed it down to a wolf, a hawk, or some sort of large cat. A cougar or a lioness, perhaps”

  Her response wasn’t as quick as usual. “I've never taken the form of a lioness before.”

  “But you still haven't answered my question.”

  “What if I told you that human was my favorite animal form?”

  “Humans aren't animals.”

  “To me, they are.” A low laugh rumbled from her throat. “I especially enjoy being human now that my eyes are disguised. It’s easier to blend in more with them.”

  Pride gushed through him when she mentioned his gift. “So you like the necklace?”

  “Yes, Gregor, I like the necklace.”

  “But you see me as an animal?”

  “I had thought about keeping you as a pet, but I realized you might bore me.”

  His shoulders grew heavy.

  He didn’t realize she had slowed her horse until she was riding beside him. She lowered her head to catch his attention. “Of course, I haven’t gotten bored with you yet,” she said with a smile, and his mood lifted. “What form would you take if you could be a shape-shifter?”

  He’d never considered that before, and his mind raced to compare the pros and cons of each species he knew. The image of soaring through the clouds filled his imagination. “I suppose I would be some sort of bird. I've always wondered what it would be like to fly.”

  Her smile grew faint, and she stared straight ahead. “Yes, I've always enjoyed flying.”

  He envied that she could experience the things he could only imagine. But then, she had also experienced things he didn’t want to imagine. His thoughts turned to Galen's description of her after she had been transformed and all the difficulties she had adjusting to her new form.

  She stopped her horse and sat rigid in the saddle, yanking him from his thoughts. “Quiet!” she hissed. She leaned forward and listened. He held his breath and strained to hear the faint stirrings that had unsettled her. “There are riders approaching.” She pulled her hood over her head, obscuring her face.

  He wanted to tell her not to be ridiculous, that her disguise was perfect now she had the necklace, but the thudding of hooves grew louder from where another road merged with theirs a few hundred yards away. He paused as the other horses came near.

  He knew the riders’ insignias as soon as he saw them. Two members of the Royal Guard appeared from the tree line and spied them. The riders approached them and rest
ed their hands on their swords as they stopped. “Make way for the Prince,” one of them ordered.

  “The Prince?” Gregor’s shoulders loosened. He’d been dreading an appearance by King Anilayus. “Is that Aemil ahead?”

  Ranealya, on the other hand, didn’t appear to be relieved to learn that it was the Prince approaching and not the King. Her head lowered, allowing the hood to cast deeper shadows along her face. Her knuckles turned white around the reins.

  The guard scowled. “You will address his Royal Highness in the proper fashion.”

  “Rubbish.” He urged his horse forward. Several years had passed since he had seen Aemil, and he couldn’t believe his good fortune to be running into him on the road.

  The guards crossed their blades in front of him, blocking his passage. “I said, halt!”

  “You don't understand.” Gregor tried to maneuver past them. Perhaps he’d been hiding in his cottage too long if the Royal Guard no longer recognized him. More members of the royal guard appeared from the tree line. “I just want to say hello to Aemil.”

  “You will do as I command.” The guard pressed the sharp point of the sword against Gregor’s chest, and he thought he heard a threatening growl from Ranealya.

  “Is there a problem, Captain Furr?” a familiar voice asked behind the guard.

  Gregor looked into hazel eyes not unlike his own, belonging to a man wearing the crest of the royal house. He had an olive complexion, like most of the natives of Castadilla, with dark brown hair that was just long enough to fall in loose curls around his face.

  Recognition flashed in his eyes. “Gregor, you old rascal!” The man dismounted simultaneously with Gregor, and they met halfway in a fierce hug. “What are you doing out of your cave?”

  “I'm on my way down to Arcana to do some research,” Gregor replied as the Prince released him.

  Aemil now sported a closely trimmed goatee, and he was a bit stockier than the last time Gregor had seen him. His eyes still danced with merriment, though, and they soon settled on Ranealya. “And who's this?”

  Her hands tightened around the reins as she sank further back into the hood of her cloak. She must have recognized the royal crest.

  “This is Ranealya.”

  “Ranealya, eh? Why haven't I heard of her before?”

  Gregor closed his eyes and took a deep breath, already preparing for the teasing that would come from the Prince later.

  Aemil had her horse’s bridle in his hand before he could think of an answer. “And why are you traveling with this old man?” he asked her as he peered under the hood.

  She looked in Gregor's direction, expecting him to answer. He knew he was supposed to say she was his wife like they had decided before they left, but there was no way Aemil would believe that. He opened his mouth to say something and hoped a reasonable answer would come out, but his mind drew a blank.

  She pulled back her hood. “I'm Gregor's assistant.”

  Gregor had to fight back a gasp when he saw her. The only things that had stayed the same about her appearance were her eyes, and that was only because she couldn’t change them. The mousy brown hair from before now gleamed like polished walnut. Smooth, creamy skin and petal pink cheeks replaced the sallow complexion. The features were more refined, and her lips had plumped up to a fuller, darker shade of pink.

  Aemil raised his eyebrows. “Assistant?” He let go of the bridle and whispered to Gregor as he passed, “Is that what they're calling them these days?”

  Gregor’s ears grew warm. “Aemil, you know me better than that.”

  His eyes flickered to her before settling on Gregor. “Yes, I do, but that still doesn't explain how someone like you ended up traveling with someone like her.”

  “I'll explain later.”

  “I look forward to hearing it.” Aemil mounted his horse and indicated Gregor should do the same. “Captain Furr, Lord Meritis and his assistant will be traveling with us for a while.”

  “Yes, Your Highness,” the guard replied with a bow his head.

  Gregor enjoyed gloating to the guard that had tried to block him. That would show him! However, his pleasure over showing up the guard waned when he looked back at Ranealya. The corners of her mouth tugged downwards as she picked at the reins of her horse. Her eyes focused straight ahead. She would want answers later tonight. He dreaded her reaction when she learned the whole truth.

  “Aemil, what's with the entourage?”

  Ranealya lean forward to hear his response.

  “Anilayus sent me on a ‘recruitment and morale’ tour around Elgeus,” he replied dryly. “You know, to reassure the subjects that all is well in the kingdom and to make sure our army is well stocked with young men eager to lay down their lives for my brother.” He thumped the insignia on his chest with his fist. “Apparently, he decided I was a suitable diplomat for the job in his absence.”

  For a moment, he feared Ranealya would change into a large wolf and attack him like she did the Azekborn, but she visibly relaxed when she heard the sarcasm in Aemil’s explanation for his tour.

  His eyes traveled between Gregor and Ranealya. “But imagine my good fortune running into you and your lovely assistant on the road today.”

  Gregor cringed every time Aemil sarcastically said “assistant”. He would have a difficult time explaining to him that there was nothing between them. Perhaps it would have been easier telling him she was his wife. That bit of news would have gone over well in Dromore.

  “What projects have you been working on that would now require an assistant?”

  He resisted the urge to roll his eyes and thought he heard her snicker behind him. At least she was amused by the Prince’s accusations. “The usual—translating old scrolls, recording knowledge where I can find it so it won't be lost forever.” Aemil leaned his head slightly toward him, indicating he would be interested in hearing more. “Let me tell you about some of the spells I've discovered.” He began sharing his findings from the elvan scrolls he had translated so far.

  It wasn’t until they stopped in front of a small keep that he realized he’d been rambling like an eager schoolboy for over an hour. He’d also failed to mention his discovery of sepharium or his knowledge of shape-shifters, which was probably due to the fact Ranealya rode right behind him. Some things should remain between just the two of them.

  He looked up at the stone building as he entered the courtyard. Something familiar about it nagged at his memory. “Isn't this—”

  “—Lord Brerton’s old castle?” Aemil finished for him. “Yes, although Anilayus uses it as a hunting lodge now that Lord Brerton lost his head. There are servants here year-round, so we should be comfortable for the evening. That is, of course, unless you're in some great hurry to get to Arcana.”

  Gregor followed his gaze to where Ranealya still sat on her horse just inside the gates. While everyone else in the party had dismounted, she continued to look over her shoulder at the road.

  Duke bounced around her horse. “Come down and play,” the dog begged with a wagging tail.

  He was so focused on the dog that he didn’t see Aemil approach her. “It's safe to come down, you know. This is a royal residence.”

  Her eyes flickered to Gregor before she dismounted.

  Aemil handed the reins to a waiting servant, who whisked to the horse away. “So, Ranealya—that is an unusual name—tell me more about yourself. How did a lovely lady like you end up as his assistant?”

  Her gaze lingered on Gregor as she smiled. He prayed she wouldn’t say something that would embarrass him. Or worse, tell the truth so he would end up like the former owner of the castle. “He saved my life,” she replied at last before turning her attention back to Aemil. “I am indebted to him.”

  Aemil raised one dark brow. “I see. And what exactly do you do to assist him?”

  He wanted to tell Aemil to stop harassing her, but her beauty captivated him. By the Goddess, she had given herself dimples when she smiled!

  “I
assist him with his translations,” She grabbed Duke’s collar. The dog tugged her arm in the direction of the kitchen, tempted by the smell of roasting meat that filled the courtyard. “I need to attend to Duke, if you don't mind, Your Highness.”

  Aemil took a step in the direction, then spun around on his heels and wrapped his arm over Gregor's shoulder. “If I wasn't already a happily married man, I'd go after her. Of course, I would try to restrain myself since you saw her first, but still…” He whistled lowly as he led Gregor towards the main hall. “How lucky can you be? Brains and beauty! You can't deny there’s something more going on between you two than just her assisting you with your translations. I saw the way you were looking at her.”

  Gregor rubbed his forehead. “Please, enough! There is nothing between us.”

  “Then perhaps there should be, eh?” Aemil grabbed his chin and turned his head in her direction. The afternoon sun cast a warm glow on her hair, making it shine like antique gold. “You'd be a fool to let her slip away from you. I know you're a little shy around women, and I don't blame you after what happened with Ingra, but it's been ten years!”

  At the mention of Ingra’s name, a stabbing pain in his chest radiated chills throughout his body. All he wanted to do was forget her, but it seemed lately, everyone had been trying to remind him about his first disaster with love. He didn’t even want to admit to having those kind of feelings for Ranealya. She would just hurt him like Ingra did. After all, why would a shape-shifter like her fall in love with him? She’d even told him she never stayed in one place for very long, and he knew it would be dangerous for both of them if she did. It was far better to keep his wits about him rather than lose his heart all over again. He was older and wiser now, after all.

  “Gregor, are you alright?” a feminine voice asked, dragging him from his thoughts. Somehow, he instinctively went to her, and she stood in front of him, calm and serene.

  “Why did you change your appearance on me? I thought you wanted to be plain so you wouldn’t attract too much attention.”