Into the Twilight: a Between the Worlds Novel

by Morgan Daimler

  “And so I am willing to work with you,” Bleidd said, “because it will negate my debt – however small you believe that debt to be – and because it will protect her life.”

  Jessilaen nodded again. “Yes. I will accept your assistance in finding the location of the Dark court agents within the bounds of this town, in payment for the healing that Brynneth rendered to you. But let us be clear, you are to find them only. I will grant you no authority to confront them.”

  Bleidd controlled his face carefully making sure that he looked properly annoyed by that, despite his elation. “Those terms are very restrictive. If I find them and do confront them should I be worrying about repercussions from the Guard?”

  “Those are the terms I offer,” Jessilaen insisted, exactly as Bleidd had expected him to. “When you find them you will alert me and I will handle dealing with them.”

  Bleidd took another drink of his coffee, as if debating what the other elf had said. He had to be careful not to answer either too quickly or too slowly. “If those are your best terms then I accept them. Without my help tracking them down you will certainly never find them.”

  To his surprise the commander agreed. “Yes, you have a much greater chance of success than we do.”

  Seeing Bleidd’s surprise, Jessilaen merely inclined his head in a shrug. “There is no reason to deny what is obviously true. They have been here, likely since they first attacked her, and we have not only been unable to track them down to wherever they are lairing but have been oblivious to their presence these past months. I would have to be a fool not to let you aid us in finding them.”

  Bleidd’s eyes narrowed. “You planned to ask me for help with this, yes?”

  “I had been considering it,” Jessilaen agreed.

  “And yet you let me come to you,” Bleidd said, angry despite his real reason for being there. Since he was using the Guard as a means to his own end it should not ultimately matter whether they approached him or he approached them, so long as he found the target and they eliminated the threat to Allie. Yet he found himself disproportionately annoyed.

  “I said I was considering asking you, not that I had decided to do so,” Jessilaen replied holding his hands up in a calming gesture.

  Bleidd realized that he had started to stand up in his anger, and he sat back down carefully, feeling the muscles in his chest and shoulder pull against the motion. “And what made you hesitate, if you agree that I am your best chance to find them?”

  Jessilaen didn’t answer immediately, drinking slowly from his own coffee. Bleidd began to think that the proud elven commander was not going to answer him at all, but then he did speak, his voice soft and low. “What you will be doing is dangerous. Even if you do not confront them there is risk to you, that they will discover you following them for example. It has become clear to me that you matter very much to Allie and it would grieve her greatly if you should be killed.”

  “And you do not want her to blame you for my death?” Bleidd asked, intrigued by this sudden turn. A week ago he’d have thought Jessilaen would gladly have handed the blade to the Dark court agent if he thought it would remove him as a rival for Allie’s heart.

  “I do not want her to suffer more than she already has,” Jessilaen said simply. “When you were both wounded all she could think about was saving your life. When she awoke after her own injury was healed the first thing she did was ask if you still lived. I could see then how much she cares for you, and I do not want to see her lose part of herself with your death.”

  Bleidd sat back, stunned at the other elf’s words. After a moment Jessilaen smiled, “And perhaps I am starting to see that you have some redeeming qualities. Certainly you are very loyal and have proven true in many difficult circumstances.”

  The compliment was wholly unexpected and caught Bleidd off guard. He responded with proper courtesy and offered a compliment in return automatically, “As have you. You have shown yourself remarkably loyal to her far beyond what I had expected.”

  He saw a flicker of understanding move behind the other elf’s eyes, and he was certain that Jessilaen knew now that Bleidd was aware of the secret he kept for Allie. The other elf nodded slightly, his expression softening. “We both love her enough to do what we must to protect her.”

  Uncomfortable with the sudden surge of respect and even friendship he felt for the Guard commander who had been his rival, Bleidd was compelled to add, “Of course you might only be feeling anything kind towards me because of the way your link with her affects you.”

  Jessilaen smiled widely at that, giving Bleidd an appraising look, “You underestimate yourself Bleidd. But if it is her influence I do not mind.”

  Certain he must look as shocked as he felt Bleidd watched as the Guard commander stood and carried his now empty mug to the sink. He found himself thinking, for the first time, When he isn’t being an arrogant ass he’s actually quite personable. And it’s not hard to see why Allie is attracted to him, he is quite handsome. That led down a fairly inevitable track, before he stopped himself. Bleidd shook his head, then forcibly reminded himself And I should not forget that he has her and I do not. Sitting here and fantasizing about him gains me nothing but more frustration. I have a mission now, and better if I accomplish it sooner rather than later.

  ***************************

  Sam had arraigned to meet Allie in front of his great-aunt’s house the next afternoon, as soon as she’d closed the store and he was off duty. Allie had been nervous all day, and either luckily or not the store had been slow so she had spent a lot of time worrying over this meeting. Part of her wanted very much to find an excuse not to go through with it, but her common sense kept winning out. She could not go on the way she had been for the past few months, with her empathy controlling her and other people’s emotions influencing her actions. She needed to be able to help catch this killer and that wasn’t going to happen if her own psychic gift was dragging her along like a leaf on the wind.

  She parked her car on the street in front of the house at the address Sam had given her, glad she’d arrived first and he couldn’t see her reaction. Located in one of the best areas downtown the huge Victorian sat behind a heavy iron fence. The yard was a sprawling expanse of well-manicured grass and topiaries. The long, perfectly kept driveway ended at a huge carriage house that could not ever be called anything as simple as a garage. In fact everything was in such great condition that Allie not only felt overawed by the luxury of it but also oddly as if she’d stepped back a hundred years in time.

  As she sat admiring the giant house a long black hearse pulled up and parked behind her. With a growing sense of inevitability Allie stepped out of her car and went to stand on the sidewalk, watching without surprise as Sam emerged from the driver’s side of the hearse. He was still dressed all in black and carried his dragon headed cane, a big grin spreading across his face as he watched her reaction to his vehicle.

  “You drive a hearse,” she said, not sure if she should be amused or horrified.

  “It’s an excellent vehicle, very dependable,” Sam said innocently. “And roomy.”

  “Right,” Allie agreed thinking to herself and so convenient if you need to move bodies.

  Sam stood regarding her for a moment as if waiting for her to say something else. When she didn’t he gestured towards the house, “Well, we might as well get on with this. I’ll bring you in and introduce you. After that, well you’ll see how she is. Either she’ll be willing to teach you or she won’t.”

  Allie nodded wordlessly and followed Sam over to a gate in the fence. He punched in a security code and swung the gate open; Allie walked through eyeing the wrought iron cautiously. Sam must have seen the look she gave the fence. “Does iron bother you that much? I’d have thought being half human it wouldn’t.”

  “Well it’s not my favorite thing,” Allie answer vaguely as they walked down a decorative mosaic path towards the front door. The house was even more intimidating up close and she bit
her lip reminding herself that this was necessary. She suddenly wished that she had given in and brought someone with her, but Sam had been insistent that his great-aunt would not allow anyone else in the house. She didn’t know what he’d said to get her invited in but she gathered that the elderly woman was living as a recluse and hated company. She’d had a difficult time convincing Jess to let her go alone, and in the end only the fact that the police mage would be there too had soothed him enough for him to stop insisting on sending one of the other elves from their squad.

  They were met at the door by a maid in uniform and Allie struggled against the nervous laughter that always seemed to overtake her when she was in tense situations. The hallway to the house was expensively decorated, making the reason for the security system clear. The maid greeted Sam as “young Mr. Kensington” and nodded politely at Allie before escorting them to a parlor off to the left. This room would have made any antique collector have fits of envy; it was all vintage Victorian era and all pristine. Not to mention luxurious and expensive. Allie caught herself before she could apologize for wearing sneakers on the thick oriental carpeting.

  The maid left and she and Sam waited several minutes in silence. A slight noise at the back entrance of the room drew Allie’s attention and she turned in that direction. The woman who entered the room walked slowly and carefully, like someone unsure of their balance. She was tall, nearly six feet, and even extreme age hadn’t stooped her proud shoulders. Her body was gaunt, the skin stretched tight over the angles of bones and pooling in paper-fine wrinkles everywhere else. Her light blue eyes peered out sharply behind small round wire rimmed glasses, taking in everything with obvious acuity. In defiance of the current trend that dictated even elderly women color their hair in imitation of youth, her hair was completely white, pulled back into a mercilessly tight bun. Her clothing was as expensive as the décor of the room, but the styles were all years out of date, and Allie couldn’t help but wonder if she had them specially made to her own taste.

  All of Sam’s usual impudence had disappeared and he was the image of complete respect. “Good afternoon great-aunt Amelia. This is my friend Allie, who would like to train with you.”

  “Your friend?” the old woman’s voice was strong, and she managed to pack an enormous amount of derision into those two words.

  Sam actually flushed under her scrutiny. “I’m sorry great-aunt Amelia if I misspoke. I know Allie through the police department. We are working on a case together.”

  “Well,” the old woman said, seeming mollified, “it’s always interesting to meet one of your co-workers.”

  She turned to Allie, her sharp eyes speculative. “So you are the untrained empath Samuel told me about.”

  “Yes ma’am.”

  “Call me Miss Amelia,” she said, then glancing at Sam. “You may go Samuel.”

  Sam opened his mouth as if to argue, then obviously thought better of it. “Yes great-aunt Amelia. Allie I’ll meet you outside when you’re done here.”

  Allie nodded numbly, wanting him to stay but afraid to ask. It was obvious Miss Amelia wasn’t someone that people argued with.

  After Sam left the room the old woman turned back to Allie. “So you have come here seeking training.”

  “Yes ma’a – er, ah, Miss Amelia,” Allie said.

  “How old are you? Twenty? And you’re helping the police with an investigation even though you have no training?” her words were scathing and Allie could feel the disapproval filling the air around her.

  “No Miss Amelia. I’m thirty-seven. And I am helping the police but technically I sort of work for the Elven Guard and the elves don’t know how to train empathy.”

  The woman’s attitude changed so quickly it was miraculous, the stern disapproval giving way to a wave of nostalgia and longing. Her face and voice gave away none of this but Allie could sense it all as clearly as if the other woman was yelling it out. “You are part elven?”

  “Yes, I am. My mother was an elf,” Allie replied cautiously.

  Miss Amelia looked closely at her for a long time, her face softening. “I had an elven lover once myself. Back before the worlds were joined and reality Sundered. There were gateways back then connecting the realms that people could pass back and forth between. He liked to come here to be with me, and he taught me many things…”

  Her voice trailed off as she lost herself in her own memories of some distant time. Allie stared back, stunned. Before the Sundering! That would make her…at least, what? A hundred and twenty? Allie guessed. How is that possible?

  “He taught me many things,” Miss Amelia repeated, sighing. “Certainly enough to help you learn how to help yourself.”

  Allie nodded, still speechless and her shocked expression finally pulled the older woman back to the present. “I’m sure you are trying to guess my age. You won’t be able to, I assure you. I was given the gift of extra years, of time, and nothing is more valuable, but there is always a cost.” Miss Amelia stared at Allie, her gaze challenging. “So the question is, what price are you willing to pay little half-elf?”

  Allie struggled not to wilt under the scrutiny. “What price are you asking?”

  Miss Amelia closed the distance between them and placed one hand on Allie’s forehead. Allie could feel the other woman’s energy going through her, weighing and measuring something. Miss Amelia dropped her hand with a sigh. “You have no idea what you are, do you?”

  “Ummm,” Allie mumbled caught off guard. “Apparently not.”

  The old woman nodded. “You’ll find out in your own time. For now I can teach you how to control your empathy. And in payment I want you to visit with me and remind me of the elves.”

  “Remind you how?” Allie asked carefully.

  “Surely you speak Elvish? And you know stories, children’s tales, songs?” at Allie’s nod she went on, “Then you can come here and entertain me with those.”

  “You speak Elvish?” Allie asked hesitantly.

  “Not much nor well, but I love to hear the sound of it,” Miss Amelia said. “It reminds me of better times. Do we have a bargain?”

  “I will agree to stay after our lessons for the same length of time that the lesson lasts and speak to you in Elvish, or tell you elven children’s stories, or sing to you,” Allie agreed.

  For the first time Miss Amelia smiled, the expression softening her face. Allie imagined that she must have been quite striking when she was younger. “Spoken like a true elf. Then our bargain is made. The first lesson begins now.”

  Allie followed the woman obediently to the closest couch where they both sat. Miss Amelia perched on the cushion with her back ramrod straight. “You know how to ground and center, yes?”

  “Yes.”

  “Shield?”

  “That seems to be my problem,” Allie admitted reluctantly.

  “Your problem is that you deny your true nature and try to be something you are not,” the woman said sharply. “Is it not true that you can gain energy from other people’s feelings, especially other people you have bound to yourself?”

  “Yes, how did you-? Wait bound to myself? What does that mean?” Allie felt the words tumbling out as she tried to process what the woman was saying.

  “I know because I’ve seen another like you before, a full elf,” Miss Amelia replied cryptically. “He didn’t fight against what he was though. He embraced it.”

  “Did he ever hurt anyone?” Allie asked quietly.

  The old woman grinned wolfishly. “Not with his gift, only with his fists, a sword, and his words. Using his gift to wound might have been less painful.”

  Allie looked down, embarrassed, and Miss Amelia shook her head slightly, her expression sobering. “So shielding. You say this is a problem for you?”

  “Yes,” Allie said, trying to keep her expression calm. “I can’t seem to hold my shields. They stay up sometimes and then they collapse others.”

  “Indeed. And let me guess, when you shield you visualize a wa
ll surrounding yourself, keeping everything out?”

  “Of course,” Allie said, confused.

  “And that is why they fail,” the old woman said, shaking her head.

  “What do you mean?” Allie said, frowning. “That’s how everyone shields.”

  “Of course it isn’t.” Miss Amelia said dismissively. “It’s how you were taught, and it’s the basic method that many witches use but it’s hardly how everyone does it. You of all people should know that the elves use color. I’m disappointed that such a basic fact escapes you actually. I was under the impression that you knew more than you obviously do about different magical systems.”

  Allie blushed, suddenly remembering her mother holding her close when she was a little girl, whispering ‘Picture the silver light all around you Laine[1]. Can you see it? It will keep you safe…” She had not thought of that in decades. Only her mother had ever called her Laine, her father had found it too hard to pronounce and had nicknamed her Allie instead…and when she moved in with her grandmother she had been taught other ways to shield and had stopped using the light. “I…am sorry Miss Amelia. I did know that but I had forgotten it.”

  The old woman looked at her shrewdly. “Forgotten or been told it was the wrong way? Well it doesn’t matter, elven shielding won’t solve your problem either, it’s too dependent on ambient magic. You’ll find it unreliable on mortal earth as well as the sections of Ashwood with less magic.”

  Allie blinked slowly, thinking how do you know all this? But the elderly woman was already going on. “So your first lesson is this: as an empathic being it is imperative that you not block yourself off from the emotions you need to sense and draw on, but also that you be able to filter and control what affects you. Putting up a shield that acts as a wall is like trying to cut off your vision or hearing and then function – your own subconscious mind rebels against the idea, and that is why you fail. Your instinct, whether you realize it or not, is to use your ability to protect yourself, to read other people in order to know if you are safe or in danger…”