by Kumar, Lisa
“I’m afraid it will not be a restful scene, no matter how he finds out.”
“Aw, Relian, do you want me to hold your hand while you face your father?”
Relian made a face at him. “No, I think not. I’m quite past the handholding stage of elfling-hood, thank you. Now, when will you be?” He raised a taunting brow. “I can remember a certain elf who had to learn self-control over his temper. He once broke his friend’s toy horse when he wanted one like it but didn’t get one.”
“You’ll never let me forget that, will you?” He frowned at Relian in displeasure. “I was only a hundred years old—just a babe.”
“I forgave you a long time ago. But when you had to help the carpenter in his shop, gathering the proper materials to recreate what you broke, I found it quite pleasing.”
“Yes,” sourly replied his friend. “I’m sure you found great joy in it.”
They kept riding for nearly an hour until they came to a secluded waterfall that cascaded high up from a sheer rock face into a crystalline pool. As young elflings, they’d often snuck out of the royal city and into this wonderfully fun paradise.
Once they saw to both horses, they set about feeding themselves. With full bellies and after a slight rest, they stripped down to loincloths to swim. While they splashed around and tried to dunk each other, Relian’s stress floated away. His father was right, as much as it rankled. This outing relieved much of his tension, as had telling Kenhel of his binding to Cal. Though he still had a great deal to worry about, for the moment all seemed brighter.
Chapter 7
Relian stood with his arms folded, his face plastered with an expression of forced neutrality that started to crumble in a fine dust. He gave an inward snort at the mental image of so dirtying his father’s pristine cream and silver study.
The situation was happening exactly as Relian predicted. For the last fifteen minutes, he’d listened to Talion rant about his supposed apathy toward the unfolding events.
His father didn’t take kindly to the almost certain possibility he was to bond with a human. Relian hadn’t been able to tell him much beyond, “I am to be bonded, and not to an eivai, but to a human.” From there, his father had cut him off and monopolized the conversation.
Of course, it helped matters not that Relian came off as “too flippant despite the seriousness of the circumstances.” He tried not to make light of his binding, but he hadn’t wanted to unduly stress his royal sire with the woe he still felt. His father had enough angst on his golden platter to handle. Alas, this hadn’t stopped his father from reacting strongly.
After finally stopping to take a breath, his father stalked over to him, where they proceeded to stare each other down. Amusement mingled with irritation. Talion hadn’t lost control to such an extent for nearly a few millennia. Like any elf of his station, his father had taken to heart only too well what he’d been taught with age and race. Restraint was often a good thing, but it was best done away with on occasion before the person in question forgot how to do so. He himself was much like his father in this.
Talion had mussed up his pale golden hair in a very un-kinglike fashion, his circlet long tossed off in his agitation. Aside from the differences in hair color, his father wore an almost identical face to that of his. Only their expressions differed wildly right now. He paused in his inspection of his father. Yes, the aggravation on his face and the frustration that burned in his eyes were greater than Relian could remember seeing for many years.
Talion grasped Relian’s wrist, seeming to want, no, seeming to need some modicum of emotion from him. “What do you play at? This is no trifle trinket you carry around.”
“I never said it was.”
His father took a deep breath, appearing at last to develop a calmness of mind. “There’s an explanation in order. Now.”
Relian gave a wry laugh. “An explanation? How I would also desire one. But I don’t believe one is forthcoming for either you or me.”
“Stop being facetious. You risk certain insanity or worse if the matter isn’t resolved satisfactorily.” Talion’s voice thundered in Relian’s ears.
“I am being serious. You exaggerate. Bindings in and of themselves don’t cause bodily harm to that extent. Only finalized bondings can cause that kind of damage.” Relian nearly quivered at the uncertainty in his own voice.
His father gave a huff. “Much damage can come from a broken binding, even if not death, when the binding is left in place too long beforehand. After all, what’s the difference between a bonding and a binding? It is all a matter of degree.”
While strangely amusing to watch his father’s iron control slip, he needed to defuse the situation before it ignited his own temper. He sensed a lull in his father’s agitation and held out a hand. “Peace. I’ll tell you whatever you desire to know.”
Talion’s face returned to a calm mask, and he gave an imperious nod for him to continue. Once Relian was done with his tale, he watched as a resolute emotion filled Talion’s face. His father had come to a decision. Relian’s heart dropped to his stomach. He could only hope it was in agreement with his own. If not, he would have to do some quick thinking.
Shooting Relian an amused glance, Talion spoke first. “You guard those dreams like a lord hording his gold.”
Heat crept up Relian’s neck even as relief trickled through him. From his father’s words, he knew he had his full support for the upcoming days and whatever they may bring. “They’re not exactly appropriate for public consumption.”
“When fate—or the mist, since it seems to be playing that role—brings you together, I just hope your…human appreciates the great regard in which you hold her.”
Relian stiffened. “Though she’s human, I give her the respect she deserves as my affianced, nothing more.”
“If that’s what you tell yourself.” Talion laughed outright. “You’re a stubborn elf. Add a human woman into the mix, and who knows where the whole situation will go.” He sobered. “I’ll accept her because I must. But we don’t know the state of her emotional health and must proceed with care. Humans can be fragile. Regardless, we must engineer acceptance of the human woman and secure some measure of contentment for you. And thoroughly research whether she’s associated with a prophecy.”
Now assured of Cal’s welcome by his father, Relian blinked as another thought assailed him. That had seemed a little too easy. What was his father up to?
***
Relian tried to relax his posture as he watched the door. After two weeks of deliberation, his father had decided to call a council to session. This special gathering would be the first to know of his binding.
Though ambivalent about the whole affair, he recognized they couldn’t hide such news for long. Especially from perceptive elves who had centuries and more to hone their skill. All pretense of a polite smile slid off his face. He didn’t enjoy the notion of a skill he prided himself on being used against him and sat up even straighter when the council members and advisors started to filter into the room. The breakfast he’d eaten churned in his stomach. Everyone would soon know how his life was about to change.
His father sat in the seat of honor, an ornately carved chair of wood with scenes of nature depicted. Relian sat to the right of him, as was his duty and right through not only blood but for the leadership he provided to their people.
At that moment, Kenhel strode into the room. Flashing a smile, he asked one of the councilors who sat next to Relian if he could have that seat. After the councilor complied, Kenhel sprawled into the chair. He grinned impishly. “Surprised to see me? I wouldn’t have missed this for all the eivain in the world.”
Relian gave a barely audible snort. As a commander, Kenhel was a “sometimes” member of the council and participated in meetings when time allowed. Unfortunately, Kenhel seemed to participate only to increase his torture. “Why would you? You’ve many millennia to flirt with them, no such bribe could keep you away.”
His easy smile re
mained. “I’m not sure if that was a compliment, but I’ll take it as one. I’m glad you have such faith in my abilities to achieve such a staggering number.”
“It’s not so much faith in your abilities of persuasion as it’s faith in your blind persistence.”
“Ah, but persistence cracks the most wary heart.”
“And sometimes lips.” Relian’s lips twitched, but he quickly suppressed any farther motion.
Kenhel laughed outright. “That, too. Smiling lips are much easier to flirt with and mayhap even steal a kiss from.”
Relian said nothing more as other chief advisors and councilors closed rank around them, leaving a remainder of the chairs in the circle open for lower-ranking officials.
Once all members seated themselves, Talion addressed his court. “You have my gratitude for responding to my messengers with all due haste. My good lords and ladies, you probably wonder why you are all here for a last-minute assemb…."
Even though his father spoke, his words faded away until Relian only heard a soft murmur.
“Relian, your hand, please.”
The king's request intruded on Relian's consciousness. He blinked, becoming aware of his surroundings.
He swallowed thickly. Though he’d suspected that his father would support him in such a manner, nothing had prepared him for this moment. But he had to see this through. The king's open affirmation of what was to come would help to somewhat smooth the path for Relian in the face of any opposition. Not that many would be brave enough to express but the briefest of doubts to either of them, but they wanted to curtail as many possible rumors as possible.
His father also made the assumption that while the veil unfortunately sought a human to bring to their world, it must have good reason to do so. He didn't believe that the magic forming the veil, the same magic that protected them and nature, would choose a truly undesirable complete-bond mate for his son. Relian hoped his father was right. Would Cal be able to handle all they would tell her and all they couldn’t?
He fortified himself and offered his father his hand. Talion took it, giving him a supportive glance as he slowly drew back the sleeve of Relian’s robe. His father now seemed the one who was tense if the furrow of his brow was any indication. Relian’s mouth twitched. It amused him when his sire was more atwitter than he was.
Once his father revealed the binding for all to see, many gasps and accompanying shocked expressions arose. All around the room, people asked the expected questions: “To a human woman? How is this possible? Why would the veil do this?”
Talion allowed this talk to continue for a full thirty seconds before he held up his hand to forestall a rising tide of questions. One of the last voices to die down spat out, “This is a travesty.”
Relian narrowed his eyes and sent his cousin Eamon a quelling look, while his father raised an inquisitive brow at the vocal elf before speaking. “Is that all, Eamon? It is a travesty only if I say it is.” Eamon flung his black hair over a shoulder but remained silent.
The king addressed the room. “We know this seems dire news: the binding of one of our own to someone who is of human birth and the involvement of humankind in our world, even if it is only one woman. After all, we have been closed off from humankind for thousands of years.”
Kenhel gave a whispered sound of disbelief. “Closed off? Is that what everyone is calling it now? Who closed us off but ourselves?”
Relian shook his head but didn’t worry. Kenhel might have some unique views, but he wouldn’t air them at this time.
He caught the end of his father’s speech. “It’s a sobering thought in these shadowed times when everything hangs in a balance we cannot quite fathom. But maybe this woman will hold some answers for us. While we couldn’t find any prophecy regarding her existence in the main library’s prophetic scrolls, we still hold hope of finding one.”
While the assembled council looked none too pleased, they appeared to see the wisdom of Talion’s words and talked amongst themselves. Eamon stayed conspicuously quiet. Relian smothered a sigh. He and Eamon looked much alike, but that was the only similarity they shared. Thank the skies for that. Relian glanced at his father, who watched the whole scene with a gleam in his eye.
Talion leaned over to him and said with a hushed satisfaction, “Do you hear what they say amongst themselves? ‘Could an ordinary human woman truly make a difference?’ They can’t know for certain, but it opened more possibilities than they previously had. As such, they feel the compulsion to cling strongly to this possible notion, for we've nothing else of significance. Not to mention the veil seems to sanction your upcoming bonding. Our council realizes it isn’t something to take lightly or ignore. We’ll have to watch a few of our members closely, though. They gave their compliance too soon, without quibble. I expected a token resistance at the very least.”
Relian nodded his agreement. If discounting those individuals who often sought out strife—he shot a look at Eamon—the binding did give the councilors some hope of an answer. Admittedly, they had to wonder what a human woman could achieve that their own people could not. He certainly did. Maybe it wasn’t that simple. Might it not be a matter of guidance rather than achievement? But what could a young human offer to a people who were centuries, millennia, older?
The king finished his planned speech. “We now need to look closely into the various options that the bond might provide if it’s completed. There’s still the problem of his affianced arriving in our world, though the veil may well take care of that for us. Otherwise, we will have to devise a way to retrieve her.”
Relian and his father outlined their thoughts and opinions for the council and asked that the other members do the same. Everyone had the chance to confer his or her ideas during the two hours that the king closeted them in the room. For the most part, any hostility at the thought of the human woman was carefully hidden, but he knew it existed. Body language could only hide so much.
Before the council came to a close, the king made his final announcement. “There is to be a celebration tomorrow evening to announce Relian’s binding. The sooner it’s publicly announced, the better. I will require everyone’s attendance with the expectation that you will serve as buffers by allaying any negative thoughts that might be voiced. Please tell Relian or I of any concerns that cannot be resolved. Also, please don't discuss the information presented here in any way until the royal announcement of the binding has been given. Your discretion is much appreciated and expected.” He swept a steely gaze over all those assembled.
Kenhel lost no time turning to Relian and placed a hand on his shoulder. “You’ve achieved the chaos I’ve always so desired to create. Well done, my friend.”
Chapter 8
Relief and satisfaction rolled over Cal. Leaves swept across the sidewalk and crackled under her feet as the cool autumn air washed over her. She inhaled before letting the air slowly out of her lungs, which intensified her feelings of exhilaration. The jacket she brought with her was stowed away, not needed yet.
She and Maggie had just finished a performance in the university’s auditorium this evening. When they managed to break away from the backstage crowd, they’d decided to head home. Lugging their assorted instruments and accouterments out of the building, they set off for Maggie’s car.
“Ouch, Cal, watch it.” Maggie tried to rub her elbow where the guitar case had hit but couldn’t because of her full hands.
Cal straightened from her stagger. “Sorry.”
Maggie turned and stumbled under the weight of her belongings, crashing into Cal.
“Maggie!”
“Oops. Just returning the favor.”
Cal, a retort on her lips, stopped abruptly. A rippling fog, made of a mist that carried the glistening of tiny minuscule stars, began to appear before them. It would’ve been a beautiful sight if she hadn’t known what it was.
They both stood still as Maggie choked out, “Is that what I think it is? I’m pretty sure it is, but I still need
a reality check.”
Cal nodded. She couldn’t believe Maggie saw it, too. “This looks like the same one.”
Maggie shook her head. “But I can see it! You said nobody ever noticed it but you. This is getting strange—well, stranger than it had been and that’s saying something.”
Cal looked at her, feeling the frown form between her eyebrows. “It’s the same mist.” She bit her lip. “Should we try to turn around and hope to outrun it? Maybe it will leave us alone. I don’t want to involve you.”
“Do you really believe that the mist will disappear without it doing what it came here to do?” Maggie shot back.
“No.”
“Alright then, that’s agreed upon. As for being involved, I already am by the mere fact that I know. And, not to mention, because I can see it. So don’t worry about me. Anyway, you shouldn’t always have to face this by yourself. If this thing...mist desires your company, it will also have mine, if I have any say in it. I’m not leaving you.”
From Maggie’s tone of voice, Cal knew she wanted in on any action that might happen, no matter the cost. “I just hope you won’t regret it.” She eyed the mist. It seemed to expand and reach out toward them like a beckoning hand.
“Nah, how could I regret an adventure with you? Nothing exciting ever happens to me, so I have to take advantage of excitement wherever I find it. And if I do seriously regret it, I won’t have anybody to blame but myself.”
“You’re saying you have to live vicariously through me?” She spared Maggie the briefest of glances before her gaze flew back to the fog.
“That’s exactly what I’m saying,”
Maggie’s words barely registered. When the cool mist enveloped them, Cal shrieked and Maggie joined in. Even though she’d seen it coming, she wasn’t prepared for the reality of it. And neither was Maggie, apparently.