Sundered

by Bethany Adams

  “Oh, yes. It was the Sidhe.” Kai’s hands fisted at his sides as his furious gaze lifted to Lyr’s. “The Seelie court sent an army through their own colony.”

  Anger shoved into Lyr’s gut like a blow, and he pushed himself away from the desk to pace the room. Too bad there were no Sidhe available to throttle with his own hands. “Seelie? How certain are you?”

  “The three adult survivors able to talk all agreed, and some of the older children could identify them. They specifically left the children alive, knowing this. I think they wanted us to find out.”

  “They cannot possibly expect aid from me after this,” Lyr said through gritted teeth.

  Kai snorted. “I wouldn’t be so sure. They feel it is their right.”

  “To exterminate their own people?” Lyr wanted to slam his fist into something. Anything. He paused by the window, hands gripped behind his back to keep from smashing the glass. “Cold bastards.”

  “Always have been, though they hide it better than the Unseelie.”

  Lyr flicked a glance at Kai and then strode back over to the book. Something in his friend’s gaze said there was more to tell that didn’t need to go in the official record. Not yet. “Is that all you have to report?”

  “I’ll send you my written account soon.”

  “Then I thank you, Taysonal, for the news you have brought.” With the formal words, he closed the spell and the book. His fingers tapped across the leather as he stared at his friend. “Was there more you wanted to say outside of the report? I assume your thoughts on the Unseelie did not belong there.”

  “You assume right,” Kai said with a sharp nod. “We can discuss it at length later, but…I’m concerned. It’s not like the Unseelie to be absent during so much upheaval. Surely, they are equally affected, but we’ve heard nothing from them. According to the survivors, an army of Seelie Sidhe swept through, but some of the murders reminded me of Unseelie work.”

  Lyr’s fingers stilled. “You didn’t think that belonged in your report?”

  “I have no proof.” Kai shrugged. “Only a feeling. Nothing substantial enough to include.”

  “I’ll not have you recount your reasons now. You need rest.” Lyr ran a hand across his face. “I’ll have to speak to Lord Meren to gauge his level of involvement, though it’s almost certain with a Seelie army involved. Later, once I’ve calmed.”

  “Good luck.”

  Lyr wasn’t sure if his friend wished him luck for the discussion or the calm, but it hardly mattered. He desperately needed both.

  Meli paced the garden, relief and fear driving her feet in a restless beat. She’d done it. Actually cut ties with Alfheim. Maybe the fairy had infected her with some madness, for what was said could not be undone, not to the Ljósálfar. But I’m free, she thought, her muscles going lax with the joy of it.

  Then Meli stiffened as worry rolled back in. Lyr might have welcomed her, but he had his own interests in that regard. If she decided not to bond, would she have to leave here, too? No. He was too honorable for that. But that didn’t mean she would find a place to belong. The rest of his people might not feel the same about her presence.

  And what about her family? They were from an ancient line, one of the first noble families after the establishment of Alfheim. That status protected them from many things, but their social standing would be shaken considerably by Meli’s refusal to return. And her brother would surely suffer scorn from his fellow warriors. Could she convince them to leave Alfheim behind if the situation grew too terrible? With a sigh, she sank down on a log by the side of the trail. She would just have to try.

  “Good choice,” Pol said from behind her.

  Meli gasped in surprise and turned to glare at Pol. “It’s rude to sneak up on people.”

  “But it’s my specialty.” His familiar smirk lit his face. “I like you, Ameliar Liosevore. Few dare give me that look.”

  Sensing the potential for danger, she stilled. “Perhaps I wouldn’t, either, if I knew who you really were.”

  He nodded. “Probably true.”

  She doubted this day, or perhaps any day, would be the day he confessed that. “Escaping the ambassador?” she asked, changing the subject.

  “She does not concern me.” The light of flame flickered in his eyes. “Don’t worry about her once she returns. She will be dealt with swiftly. There was always the chance it might be different, but she performed as expected.”

  Did she dare ask what he meant? Meli straightened her spine. “You’ve never been an attendant, have you?”

  His grin widened. “Attentive, yes. Attendant, no. Maybe I’ll tell you more one day.”

  “Well.” Meli hesitated, not wanting to risk his ire. “If not to explain your place here, why did you seek me out?”

  “You’re freaking out.”

  Brows quirked, she leaned back against the bench. “What?”

  Pol shook his head. “Sorry. Too much time on Earth. You’re panicking.”

  On Earth? She refused to analyze that right now. “I exiled myself, though I had no plan to. It was the right decision, but…I’ll never see my home again. My parents will be heartbroken.”

  “If they’re lucky, they’ll find themselves here.”

  The breath left her lungs. “You think Alfheim can’t be saved?”

  “Not if they remain in isolation. Poor Freyr has no idea.” Pol stood and gave a flourishing bow. “Be at ease, Lady Meli. I haven’t led you astray.”

  Meli stared after him as he strode away. Pol spoke so casually of Freyr, God and High King of Alfheim, that he could only be someone of great power himself. Maybe even a god. But who would dare intrude in Freyr’s domain? As she thought through the list of possible deities, she blanched. Surely, she had not just argued with Him.

  Chapter 22

  Hours had passed, but Lyr’s stomach still roiled with fury and disgust. He commanded a third of the Moranaian army, but he couldn’t imagine unleashing them on a portion of his own populace for anything short of unprecedented treachery. And to order them to massacre the ill? He swallowed down bile. It was a betrayal of all things decent.

  In a single day, he could discharge much of the trouble brought to him from the other realms. Whether Meren was responsible or not, the Sidhe had broken all faith, and the Ljósálfar insulted him at every turn. Lyr was well within his rights to leave them both to their own fates.

  Except for one thing: Kien.

  Kien, who had not even been exiled to Earth. If he had, Lyr’s scouts would have kept up with his every move. The prince should not have escaped the world the king had sent him to.

  Now he, and all his actions, became Lyr’s problem.

  Giving up on calm, he strode to the mirror and activated the spell that would connect him to the Seelie lord. He expected to wait or to have to leave a message, but Meren appeared almost at once. As if he’d been waiting. “Good day to you, Myern Lyrnis.”

  The Sidhe smiled, and Lyr clenched his hands behind his back where Meren couldn’t see. “It is certainly not good for the Neorans.”

  “Am I to understand that you did not stay out of our business as I said you should?” Meren asked, a smirk playing at the edges of his lips.

  “I told you I would follow the order of my own prince,” Lyr answered. His throat stung with the effort of keeping his voice calm. “You were to return word to me of any decision reached by your queen.”

  Lord Meren’s chin lifted. “Queen Lera determined that our sovereign business was none of your affair, so we took care of it ourselves. Of course, you are welcome to send a diplomat if you wish to settle the matter with the queen yourself.”

  Lyr ground his teeth at Meren’s confession. He would not negotiate with butchers. “I think not.”

  The smile dropped. “Then why have you called me?”

  “An artifact was discovered on an assassin here.” Lyr paused to tamp down his own emotions. “When examined, Sidhe magic was found.”

  This time, the Se
elie lord’s surprise did not appear feigned. “I know of none who have ventured to your land for any reason, much less a nefarious one. You must be mistaken.”

  “I assure you that I am not.” Lyr’s hands itched to wrap around Meren’s neck. “Considering your cruel actions to your own colony, I hardly believe your claims of innocence.”

  Meren shook his head. “In this, I offer no subterfuge.”

  In this. Interesting choice of words. “Your reassurances are meaningless. We will no longer negotiate with the Seelie court, at least and until restitution is made to the Neoran people and House Dianore.”

  To Lyr’s surprise, the Sidhe merely shrugged. “The queen tires of hiding in the dark. We will send our own people to the surface. I am sure we will have no need of you in the future.”

  “So be it.” Lyr allowed a hint of fury to flash in his eyes. “And if any assassins are proved to be sent by your command, I’ll consider it a declaration of war against Moranaia. Take control of your people.”

  Without another word, Lyr severed the connection in one final insult. At least now, Lyr had no need to consider Sidhe sensibilities. Once the Neorans were healed, he could send his own scouts more widely across Earth to seek the source of the problem. The Seelie could go mad in their own hills.

  His temper heightened by the encounter, Lyr strode from his study and down the hall to the garden. The king wouldn’t be happy that Lyr had threatened war, but it wasn’t entirely outside of his authority as General. Especially considering Ralan’s command to help the Neorans. Clechtan, but this would be a tricky report to write.

  Lyr slowed at the sight of Kera entering through the outer door. Her brows rose, no doubt at the anger he didn’t bother to hide, but no sign of concern creased her forehead. “Myern,” she said. “I was headed to your study to find you.”

  Grimacing, Lyr crossed his arms. As second-in-command to his captain, Kera might bear bad news indeed. “Did something happen?”

  “No,” she answered. “Nothing like that. You asked me to keep an eye on our visitors, Lady Ameliar in particular. I thought I should mention…” Kera hesitated, and Lyr’s stomach dropped at her uncharacteristic show of nerves. “Earlier, during the meeting? You didn’t arrange for the lady to have her own quarters. She has been pacing the gardens all this time, probably avoiding that foul ambassador.”

  “Thank you for reminding me, Kera,” he answered automatically, though he wanted to curse again at his own lack of thought. “Would you mind having the room beneath Prince Teyark’s prepared? I will check on Lady Meli.”

  “I can do that.” Kera smiled. “She was on the path to the guest suite a moment ago.”

  After thanking her again, Lyr slipped out the door and headed right. This time, he had no waves of distress to follow—a promising sign—but he managed to catch a hint of Meli’s energy near the base of the nearby guard tower. If he hurried, he could catch her before she entered the guest suite. She needed to know she’d have a place away from the ambassador’s ill humor.

  And Lyr needed to be with her.

  Caolte pushed into his brother’s room, slamming the door against the wall. “What are you playing at, Meren?”

  “It is good to see you, too, brother.” Meren looked over his shoulder, his long pale hair rippling with the motion. “I hope all is well.”

  Caolte halted in the center of the room. He dared come no closer lest his temper erupt in full flame. If his spy had been correct, Naomh’s plan would be ruined. “Tell me, does the queen know of your murderous deeds?”

  Meren laughed. “Queen Lera can hardly hold up her own court robes. She was not prepared for her mother to fall ill.”

  “Your oath—”

  “Was to Queen Tatianella.” Meren’s satisfied expression sparked Caolte’s growing fury. “Lera has not been wise enough to demand another.”

  “I was speaking of your oath to Naomh. You gave your word to work with the Moranaians for a solution.”

  Meren turned back to the window with a shrug. “I decided he was wrong. Look out there, Caolte. Why should we stare at a spell-cast sky, barred from feeling the light of the sun? The humans have long forgotten our oath. Even if they hadn’t, they are nothing compared to us.”

  “The Sidhe keep their promises, even through time.” Caolte’s fingers dug into his palms. “If our father—”

  “Do you think I care what he would have done?” Meren’s voice cut, smooth and calm, through his brother’s words. “He betrayed my own mother with some half-Unseelie spawn.”

  Although centuries had passed, the shame of it still burned. It wasn’t because Caolte’s mother had been a half-blood from the Unseelie court. No, in that one mistake, his father had broken his word to his wife, Meren’s and Naomh’s mother, for a few nights’ pleasure.

  “That is a point long settled and useless to debate,” Naomh bit out. “If you wanted free of the underhill, you need not have run an army through Neor.”

  Meren waved a hand. “They were no longer Sidhe. Any who succumb should be eliminated, for they no longer belong to our kind.”

  “Even Queen Tatianella?” Caolte smiled as his brother paled. “Perhaps I should alert her guard.”

  “The royal family is ever above reproach.”

  Caolte’s smile broadened. “Funny how that works.”

  “Be gone,” Meren said, the calmness leaving his demeanor. “Don’t try to implicate me merely because I didn’t follow Naomh’s directives. I had grown tired of working with the Moranaians concerning a matter we should deal with ourselves.”

  If there had been a way to damn his brother in that moment, Caolte would have done it. But Meren had the ear of Queen Lera. Aggression on his part would cost more than it gained. Naomh was going to be furious, his plans for the future now fractured. They’d hoped the Moranaians would cure the poison Kien had assured him would keep the Seelie underground for centuries more. A poison that never should have seeped beneath the surface. Now Naomh and Caolte would have to find their own way to solve the problem.

  Caolte turned, tossing words over his shoulder like the flames he’d rather cast. “Break your word to us again, and you’ll regret it.”

  Meli stopped at the base of the stairs that curved around the guard tower to meet the walkway above. This was not going to be pleasant, but she’d lingered in the garden long enough. Lady Teronver held grudges almost as closely as the Elder Gods, and Meli had no doubt the woman already had some form of revenge in mind. It might be nothing more than angry words—for the moment. But if Pol wasn’t there, the lady might dare another spell.

  Only one way to know for certain.

  Shoving her shoulders back in resolve, Meli took a step forward. Then paused again, a tingle in her spine as she sensed Lyr’s energy approaching. Even without a formal bond, the link between them strengthened. She’d almost returned to his study several times that afternoon at the hints of anger and distress she’d sensed from him.

  But Meli had caught a glimpse of Kai, grim and blood-splattered, as he’d crossed through the garden. Something serious had happened, but she had no idea what it might be. She would bring no comfort if she made matters worse by interrupting. So instead, she’d continued her pacing. Useless pacing.

  “Meli?”

  She spun at the uncertain tone of Lyr’s voice, and her heart thumped at the shadows darkening his eyes. “Is something wrong?”

  “No. At least nothing urgent,” he answered as he moved closer. “I wasn’t able to speak with you after the meeting earlier. With everything happening right now, Kera had to remind me to arrange a room for you.”

  Meli’s brow quirked. “Don’t I have one?”

  “Something more permanent, since you’re now a citizen here.” Lyr tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear, and heat flushed her skin where his fingers touched. “Another guest suite until I can find you a home you like, but one reserved for Moranaians.”

  A new worry struck. “How will I pay for this? I’m not cert
ain what I’ll do here. I used to help my father find what he needed for spell research, but I doubt that type of work would earn much. There was nothing important I could train for in Alfheim without magic.”

  Lyr smiled. “There are many who would pay a Diviner to find things. My mother is a scholar, and I’ve no doubt there are days she would love that skill.”

  “But that would earn enough for lodging?” Meli asked, doubt tinging her tone.

  “Such basics are provided to all who contribute to society, though anything more is on your own merit,” he answered. “You’re given time to get established after formally settling here.”

  “That’s it?” Her stomach fluttered in an odd dance of hope and doubt. “It’s that easy to become a full citizen?”

  “Moranaia was formed by those who left Earth as the humans grew in number. Over millennia, we have welcomed plenty of our kindred who wished to do the same. Citizenship is at the lord or lady of an estate’s discretion.” Some of his earlier sadness faded as he leaned closer, a grin curving his lips. “I was dubious about you, but I decided I’d give you a chance.”

  Her lips parted on a chuckle. “Thanks.”

  “Once I present you formally, it will be official.”

  “Formally?” she whispered, aghast. “How formal?”

  His brows creased together. “It’s a joyous event, not an unpleasant one. Everyone on the estate is called together to be introduced to new residents. But with matters between Alfheim unresolved and concerns of state paramount, I may be forced to do something simple.”

  “Thank Freyr,” Meli responded, her breath rushing out as the tension in her stomach eased. At his quizzical expression, she smiled. “I’m sorry if that sounded rude. I hate formal meetings. They haven’t always been pleasant for me on Alfheim.”

  Lyr reached out, twining his fingers loosely with hers. “I hope you’ll find your place here.” His gaze lowered to their joined hands. “Bonded to me or not.”

  Her palms dampened even as her mouth went dry. She’d already dared much that day. Could she dare more? Meli gathered her resolve and leaned closer. “I don’t know what I’ll do about the bond.” His worried gaze flicked up. “But I don’t have to consider Alfheim now. I have only myself to please, and it would please me to get to know you better.”