Spellweaver

by Tamara Grantham

  I wouldn’t. I couldn’t let him go. There had to be a way for us to be together. Perhaps Kull could shirk his duties as prince and we could escape to Earth. He could become a regular guy. Maybe he could get a job as a trucker or something. Yes, or a pro wrestler, or a linebacker. There had to be something he could do.

  My thoughts weren’t right. I’d have to accept my fate at some point or another. Kull was meant for bigger and better things, and I couldn’t be a part of them. I’d known it from the beginning. King Herrick’s words shouldn’t have given me such a shock.

  As I climbed a hill, the forest was quiet, with only the faint sound of squeaking wagon wheels echoing from the town below. I stopped under a leafless tree with broad, gracefully curving branches. The moonlight descended through its skeletal limbs, painting patches of light on the forest’s leaf-strewn floor. The evening’s chill seeped through my thin sweater.

  The sound of footsteps came from behind me, and I spun around to face Kull, who carried an extra cloak. He didn’t speak as he handed it to me. I gratefully put it on, though the fur-lined robe did nothing to melt the chill in my heart. I was thankful for the darkness. Otherwise, Kull might have seen the tears misting my eyes. He must have seen them anyway, though, because he hugged me to him fiercely.

  His arms were so warm and comforting, and with my face pressed to his chest, I listened quietly to the steady sound of his breathing. The lump in my throat made it impossible for me to speak. I couldn’t let him go. I refused.

  He kissed my hair. “We’ll find a way.”

  “How?” I managed to say. My hands were quivering, so I pressed them to his chest, but it did no good. Why couldn’t I stop shaking?

  He took my fingers in his. His hands dwarfed mine. I’d never felt skin so warm and, though callused, so tender. The moonlight made his usually intense gaze seem more piercing, catching me off guard.

  “How?” I repeated quietly.

  “We’ll think of something.”

  I knew he was trying to make me feel better. Maybe it didn’t matter. Maybe I should just be thankful for the time I’d had with him, which, in truth, was more than I could have asked for.

  The moonlight made the sharp features of his face more pronounced—his strong jaw, his chiseled nose and cheekbones—and reflected off his fair hair, almost as if he wore a crown. The look of authority and raw power he exuded was nearly overwhelming. It was the look of someone noble. Of a king.

  My common sense seemed to evaporate as I ran my fingers along his jaw, over his brow, and then trailed down his lips. He didn’t stop me as I caught his face between my hands and drew him to me.

  My lips met his. I kissed him softly at first, learning the taste of his mouth, soaking in every detail. The slight metallic taste of blood. The scent of his hair, like the fresh spring rain. The feel of his stubbled cheeks between my hands.

  He ran his hands down my back until he gripped my waist. My skin erupted with tiny goose bumps as he drew me closer, pressing my breasts against his chest. I twined my fingers behind his neck.

  He moved the cloak away from my face and let his kisses trail down my neck. I let out a tiny gasp as his hands found my shirt and moved the fabric off my shoulder. He lowered my bra strap and then kissed my collarbone. Gently, Kull kissed the top of my chest, just above my breasts. His hands wandered under my shirt to my back, his fingers teasing at the waistband of my jeans.

  I wanted him. I wanted him so badly it hurt.

  My heart pounded against my ribcage, and I arched my back as his mouth found mine once again. His hands cupped my butt. I breathed in every inch of him as he pressed my body tightly against his. I could feel him through the layers of fabric, hard and strong, his muscles rigid and hot.

  Finally, he pulled away. I struggled to catch my breath. Despite the chill, my body burned with desire.

  He clasped my hands and rested his forehead against mine, his broad chest rising and falling as he breathed heavily. “I won’t let you go,” he said quietly.

  “I know.”

  With gentle fingers, he fixed my bra strap and arranged my shirt carefully over my shoulder, which made my heart beat with a wild cadence. He pulled my cowl over my head, and then kissed my nose. “You looked cold. Why you would want to be out here half naked is beyond me.”

  I playfully jabbed his stomach with my finger. “You haven’t seen me half naked,” I said.

  “Hmm.” He groaned a deep, masculine sound, laced with need and heat. “I’m sure there is a remedy for that,” he said, brushing a kiss over my ear.

  Reaching under my shirt again, his hand ran the length of my back, caressing my skin, making me shiver and driving me mad with his touch. Kull locked his gaze on me and then brushed a strand of hair away from my cheek. He smiled his teasing grin for half a second, but then his face fell and he looked away.

  “What’s the matter?” I asked.

  He grabbed my hand and pulled me to a downed log. As I sat beside him, he wrapped his arm around my shoulder. The faint sound of crashing waves came to us from below, and I rested my head on Kull’s shoulder, listening to the steady sound of his breathing.

  “We’ve chartered a ship to take us to the outer isles,” Kull said. “My father will be watching our every move. I am his son, and I know he loves me, but I also know how stubborn he can be. He will follow through with his threats, even if he regrets it later in life. He will not hesitate to exile me.”

  No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t think of a remedy for our situation. “Isn’t there some way to reason with him?”

  “I’ve tried. The gods know I’ve tried, to no avail.” He let out a heavy sigh.

  “Then for the moment,” I said, “we’ll keep our distance from one another, at least while we’re on the ship. We’ll give your father what he wants for now.”

  “No,” he said. “My father demands that I marry someone of high rank, someone with connections, but he cannot stop me from being with you. As long as we do not marry, he has no authority to exile me.”

  “You really think he’ll agree to that?”

  “It doesn’t matter if he agrees or not. I respect our laws and our ways. I understand that I will be king someday, but that is a long time from now. My father cannot not keep us apart, not as long as I am searching for someone suitable to marry.”

  My stomach formed a tight knot. Someone suitable to marry? I pushed my panic aside. I had a habit of reading too much into people’s words. He must have meant he would only appear to search for someone to marry. Still, the immediate problem with his father persisted.

  “I still think it would be wise to keep our distance. You know your father will be looking for any excuse at all to throw me off the boat,” I said.

  “And if he should, I will simply jump in after you. We will swim to the farthest island where he’ll never find us. We’ll live off wild boarhound and drink the nectar of fairy dew blossoms. We will make passionate love as we lie under the stars.”

  “That sounds wonderful,” I answered, “except that our world will be destroyed unless we restore the magic. It will be a very short-lived romance.”

  “Then we shall die in each other’s arms and be blissfully happy as we make our way to Valhalla.”

  I smiled. “I’m sure we will.”

  “Yes.” He sighed. “Until my father dies, joins us, and makes us miserable once again.” He worked his jaw back and forth as if debating something.

  Where had his thoughts wandered?

  “Perhaps you are right,” he finally said. “On the voyage, I will do my best to keep my distance from you, but I do not swear it, and I make no promises that I will succeed.”

  I brushed back a clump of hair and kissed his forehead. “That’s good enough for me.”

  The sound of snapping twigs caught my attention, and I turned to see lights glowing in the forest behind us. A group of people moved through the wood and toward the village. I recognized them as elves. They wore flowing robes lit by the b
aubles they carried, although the delicate glass orbs glowed with actual fire instead of the magical enchantment they usually depended on. The band of travelers moved with an ethereal grace, as if they were part of the wood.

  Kull and I walked to the edge of a small precipice to get better look at the procession.

  “The elven envoy has arrived,” Kull said. “And not a moment too soon. I hope they’re up for the voyage.”

  Though we were too far away to be noticed, I still searched out my father and found him walking amidst the others. He was easy to spot. He’d always been tall for an elf, and he walked with dignified refinement, although now, he also seemed to walk with a slight limp. His dark hair gleamed under the firelight, worn in a loose ponytail that trailed down his back. His gray robes blended in with the shadowy forest. Even from this distance, I noticed he looked paler than usual. Without his aura of magic, his countenance had become haggard.

  The other elves also shared my father’s pallor. Trailing behind the rest, I found Princess Euralysia, Kull’s former fiancée and a person I dreaded seeing again.

  Her air of elegance had disappeared, replaced with sagging shoulders and a slow gait. She’d always been a powerful practitioner, perhaps even more powerful than my father, which made the loss of magic exact an even greater toll on her.

  I glanced at Kull. Was he anxious to see his former fiancée? Although I knew they’d never really had romantic feelings for one another, I also knew they had been friends. What would he do when he saw her again?

  He placed his hand on my back. “Let’s go back to the inn.”

  I nodded, and then followed him through the forest until we reached the village.

  After crossing the town square, we entered the Sailor’s Reprieve. Bodies crowded the suffocating room. It seemed there was some confusion over where to put the elves. Eventually, the innkeeper appeared at the top of the staircase and announced where each party would be staying, although I noted that he was assigning six or seven bodies to each room. The grumbling continued as the elves and Wults disagreed over their arrangements. Finally, the innkeeper threw his hands in the air and told them to sleep in the bloody sewers for all he cared.

  If this was how the entire voyage would be, perhaps it would be best if I took Kull up on his offer of surviving on a deserted island after all.

  As the room cleared, I found my father sitting at a table near one of the fireplaces. He didn’t see me. He stared blankly at the crackling fire with a mug held between his hands. Strands of his dark hair had come loose and fallen over his pale face. I couldn’t remember ever seeing him looking so disheveled.

  Kull parted ways with me as I pointed out my father. I dodged a few lingering people as I made my way to his table. What would I say to him? Our relationship had always been strained. Lately, it seemed we were communicating a little better, but how long could I expect it to last?

  My father focused on me as I took a seat across from him.

  “Olive,” he said, his voice hoarse. “What are you doing here?”

  “I’m helping to restore the magic. What are you doing here?”

  He sighed. “I’ve come to do the same thing.” His gaze wandered back to the fireplace.

  He worried me. I’d never seen him like this before. We all knew the dangers of traveling to the outer islands. Few had survived the voyage, and those who did were greeted by an island full of wild dragons. It was a mystery to me how the Wults had found a willing sea captain. I could only imagine they’d used their characteristic negotiating tactics, which consisted of blades and bloodshed.

  “Father,” I said, “will you able to make the voyage? What do you expect to accomplish without your magic?”

  “I shall manage.” He forced a smile.

  “You will?”

  He looked at his half-empty tankard. “I admit the loss of magic has taken its toll on me. You will forgive me if I am not myself.”

  “Then why make the journey? Wouldn’t you be safer in Lauressa?”

  “No. There is no place safe in Faythander as long as the magic dies. The elven council was decisive in their choice of sending me. I have a unique… position. I must make the quest to the outer islands. I fear all will be lost if I do not.”

  Father and his secrets. I had no clue what he meant by ‘his unique position’. He was a magistrate, although in elven terms, there were much higher positions. Why was it so important for him to travel while in his condition? There had to be other elves stronger and more fit to travel.

  “Do not worry for me,” he said. “I will be well enough.”

  I adjusted my pack’s strap as it dug into my shoulder, reminding me of the item I carried inside. Not the bloom, but my father’s memory charm. Should I tell him about Mom? After all these years, did he care? He’d never once tried to contact her. He seemed so caught up with his duties as magistrate, and it had been so long since he’d seen her. Still, it seemed wrong of me not to tell him.

  “I’ve spoken with Mom,” I said.

  He raised an eyebrow.

  “The loss of magic caused her memories of Faythander to surface, so I was forced to do a spellcasting. She remembers everything now. She remembers you.”

  His eyes widened. “You did what?”

  “She was having major side effects from the memory loss. She was suffering. I did the only thing I could think of.”

  “This is not good at all.”

  “Why?” I asked. “Aren’t you glad she remembers you?”

  “Glad?” he said. “Olive, do you realize what you have done?”

  I didn’t understand what the big deal was. Shouldn’t he have been happy that his wife remembered him?

  “That spell did more than remove her memories. It kept her safe.”

  “Safe from what?”

  His voice grew hushed. “Don’t you realize who she was?”

  “Umm—your wife?”

  He sighed, a bone-tired sound that made him look wearier. “The spell will have to be recast. As soon as the magic returns, we must notify the sky king. Only he has the power to cast the spell. How you were able to undo it is a mystery to me.”

  “But why is she in danger?”

  He shook his head. “It’s not my place to say.”

  “Does it have something to do with you?”

  “Olive,” he said, his voice stern, “I will not speak of it. It would be best for you not to pry. She cannot be allowed to have her powers back—that is all you need to know.”

  “Powers? What powers?”

  “I will say no more. I have said enough as it is.”

  I crossed my arms. I hated when he got this way. Riddles and nonsense. “Just so you know, she’s never been happy on Earth, living alone in her huge, empty house. I realize now that I never knew her. How could she be herself as long as she had those fabricated memories to keep her from the truth? After I restored her mind was the first time I ever saw my real mother—the woman she really was. I spent twelve years of my life with a stranger. If you restore the spell, you’ll take who she is away again, and she’ll have you to blame for it.”

  He looked on me with his impassive stare. It made me wonder if he had emotions at all. I’d just relayed to him that the woman he’d once loved had suffered for over a decade of her life and would continue to suffer because of him, and he’d had no reaction. Perhaps I only imagined that he still had feelings for her.

  Gathering my bag, I stood, feeling too frustrated to carry on our conversation. I turned toward the staircase when my father stopped me.

  “Olive,” he said.

  I turned.

  “You may think me cruel for taking part in casting the spell, but trust me when I tell you that what we did was for the best. The alternative would have been much worse.”

  “Alternative?”

  “It was either the loss of her memories or the loss of her life.”

  “You would have killed her?”

  “As I said, memory loss was a much more human
e alternative.”

  I looked on my father as if seeing him for the first time, watching the firelight glow over his pallid skin, watching his amber eyes as they reflected the flickering flames. Who was he? What was so important that he would consider killing his wife? Killing my mother? I didn’t know what to say, so I said nothing. Turning away from him, I found the staircase, feeling as if the world reeled around me.

  I wandered through the inn until I found my assigned room. Several elves occupied the other beds, so I lay down on the only empty mattress, trying to ignore the faint scent of urine coming from the worn fibers.

  One of the elves said something to me. I did my best to make an answer, although my mind wasn’t on the conversation. The elf who’d spoken made a huff about extinguishing the light.

  Tears burned my eyes as the room darkened. I hugged my pack close to my chest, feeling the magical orb tucked safely inside. As I ran my hands over the glass bauble, I also felt the curving, leaf-shaped pendant of my father’s memory charm through the canvas fabric.

  I’d almost believed he was someone worth admiring. But lies were usually easier to believe than the truth. What was worse, my own stepfather, the sky king of Faythander, had been involved in removing Mom’s memories.

  I would never get to sleep if I kept rehashing my fears, so I did my best to push my worries aside. My mind drifted as sleep took me. As usual, even ignoring the conversation with my father didn’t quell my worries. Instead, my memories took me to another conversation from the evening. My last thought was of Kull.

  Until I find someone suitable to marry…

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  The next morning, I stood with Brodnik as we waited to board the ship. The tall masts of the Sea Ghost rose above us. It was one of the largest vessels at the dock. Tatty sails flapped in the stiff breeze, and the maidenhead, carved in the likeness of a skeleton wrapped in frayed robes, was crusted with years of sea salt.

  I pulled my fur-lined cloak tighter as the crowd pressed in around me. After waking this morning, I’d washed up as best as I could and then eaten a scant breakfast of dry biscuits. After that, I’d packed up what little I had and headed to the docks. Brodnik, with his flaming red beard and overbearing voice, had been the only familiar face I’d seen in the crowd.