Sundered

by Bethany Adams

  “First time? No, I…”

  But then she did. Her eyes closed against a wave of dizziness as the memory hit. She’d been drifting, that faint voice trying to hold her close, when her consciousness had split along a fissure long unnoticed. The images that had always teased at her mind—of Lyr, of Arlyn, of strange people and places—had solidified into memories of a life she’d never lived.

  She’d pulled almost frantically at herself as that other piece had drifted away. As part of her being had panicked in the dark void, the other had spoken to Lyr. And when that fragment of her spirit returned, she’d felt whole for the first time ever. It must have been from a past life, a version of herself that hadn’t been ready to settle into a new existence, causing memories to haunt Meli’s current life. There were legends of such things, but she’d never known of anyone who’d gone through it.

  What had the fairy said? Blood-souls with Arlyn. Meli’s muscles clenched as the meaning of the term became clear. Though the vague images she’d always seen had faded again, that final rejoining had given her the truth. She had been Arlyn’s mother in her previous life. They’d been connected then by both soul and blood, now only the former. Arlyn’s mother—and Lyr’s first love.

  “By Freyr…” Meli whispered, stunned.

  How would Lyr handle the news? She might share a soul with Aimee, but she was not the same person. Being reborn among the Ljósálfar and growing up in Alfheim had left their own marks. Her spirit had shifted and expanded, her past self only a vague dream. Would he expect her to be like his previous bonded once he realized?

  Gulping, she met his eyes. “What did I say when I woke?”

  He shifted closer, and his hand took hers. “You seemed confused. You asked if Arlyn had found me. You were…not quite yourself.”

  “That’s an understatement,” she muttered.

  “So you remember?” Lyr asked, his words carefully measured.

  Meli squeezed his hand in case he withdrew it once he heard. “I don’t remember what was said. I only have impressions. For a moment, I was divided. Lyr, I—I think it was my past self. I think I was your first bonded in another life. But I don’t understand how.”

  Instead of appearing shocked, he merely nodded. “So I gathered from what you said. How differently does time pass on Alfheim?”

  “Much faster.” Meli stared, confused by his apparent calm. So he already knew? Though she detected a hint of worry through their link, he was less upset than she would have expected. “In ancient times, a Ljósálfr might bring a human back for a few years. Almost no time had passed on Earth when they’d returned them.”

  He lifted a brow. “Humans in Alfheim?”

  “As lovers, usually.” Meli’s face reddened, though her people no longer did such a thing.

  “Ah.” Lyr nodded again. “The Sidhe do the same.”

  Meli canted her head. “You don’t do that here?”

  “No humans have been allowed on Moranaia in recent memory, but no one has asked to bring one, either. The Veil crossing is much rougher between Earth and Moranaia, sometimes even for a trained guide.” With a sigh, Lyr glance down at their joined hands. “It’s why I didn’t try to rush Aimee through when…”

  Meli couldn’t hold in a helpless snort. “I suppose I wouldn’t be here otherwise.”

  “True.” The pain she’d expected finally flowed from him across their bond, and when he looked up, his eyes were shadowed with it. “She—you, I suppose—must have known. She sent my pendant with Arlyn and said I’d need it again. Twice, it has stopped a blade, and so I believed that was her intent. But maybe not. When you—she—spoke earlier, she said ‘There’s more to me now, as I knew there’d be.’”

  What a tangled mess. Meli shifted restlessly beneath her blanket. “I don’t know what to make of this.”

  “Nor do I.” Lyr released her hand to rub his face. “Meli, I don’t want you trapped in this bond. Could your link with Aimee have influenced your choice? If you decide that is so, our priests can sever a soulbond, but—”

  “Stop.” Though her body ached, she pulled herself upright. “I told you I’d decided before the ambassador’s attack. I’d thought to give us more time, but I knew what I wanted. I may seem weak, but when I make a decision, I follow through.”

  His face went blank. “I didn’t say you were weak.”

  “I know it.” Meli’s shoulders slumped as exhaustion swept through her. Her energy was low enough without having to deal with such an important conversation. “Just as I know this past life makes everything more complicated. Still, I’ll not do something irrevocable out of your misplaced nobility. I am grateful you told me of the choice, but I’m resolved.”

  “I’m sorry.” He huffed, though he smiled with it. “Again.”

  “I suppose I can’t blame you. I was hardly encouraging when I first learned of the bond.” Meli dropped back against the pillows. “The night you were injured and I found you in the clearing, I’d hoped the runes would show me the best way forward. They led me to you.”

  His eyes flashed with a maelstrom of emotions, so mixed she couldn’t tell one from another even with their bond. “I’ve been sitting here thinking over it all. Trying to decide if I should give my own pendant to you or wait.”

  She swallowed hard. “I’d force you no more than you would me.”

  Lyr peered at her as he wrapped his hand around his necklace. After a long moment, he pulled it from his neck and held it between them. “i’Tayah ay nac-mor kehy ler ehy anan taen.”

  As the pendant flared with power, she reached out to take it. And marveled as their connection grew even stronger when her fingers tangled in the chain. Energy hummed around them as she settled the pendant around her neck.

  For the first time, she no longer felt lost. She was found.

  For a moment, Lyr couldn’t remember how to breathe. He’d believed he would never say the words that would bind him to another. Even after meeting Meli, he’d had little hope. But as she placed the pendant around her neck, he couldn’t deny how the bond wove stronger between them.

  Was it foolish to follow impulse? Even as he struggled to accept Aimee’s rebirth, he longed for this bond with Meli more than anything. Maybe even more than when he’d met Aimee, a thought that sent guilt burning through his blood. He should have waited until he’d reconciled the past with the present to give her his pendant. But for once, he’d released all doubt and followed the lead of his friend. Like Kai, he’d acted on instinct. Please don’t let it be a mistake.

  The light of the spell faded, though the pendant glowed for a moment longer. Meli traced a finger across the carvings. “It’s dented,” she whispered.

  “As am I,” Lyr answered without thinking. But it was true. “I’ve my own scars.”

  Meli’s lips curved into a soft smile. “They’ve made you who you are, just as my past has made me.”

  “Something we both must learn to face,” Lyr said. Then he chuckled. “That sounded more dire than I’d intended. But we do have much to learn about one another.”

  Her eyes sparkled with humor. “Maybe when I’ve recovered, you can show me some of those dents.”

  The dining room was empty when Lyr escorted Meli in, save for one of his helpers placing a tray of food at Lyr’s usual place. With a nod of thanks, he helped Meli into a chair and then served them both some bread, meat, and cheese. He’d wanted her to rest longer, but she’d refused. Lyr examined her face for signs of strain, though he could feel through their bond that she was well. His bonded was more stubborn than her acquaintances would ever believe.

  They were partway through when Kai and Arlyn entered. His daughter paused to peer at Lyr and Meli, her gaze falling on their switched necklaces, before her face lit up. “Thank goodness.”

  Lyr’s fingers tightened around the cup he’d just lifted. If he was uncertain about what he’d learned of Meli, he couldn’t imagine how Arlyn would take it. But she needed to know. “Have you eaten? Or are you searc
hing for me?”

  “The second,” Arlyn said as she took the seat on his other side. Kai regarded Lyr quizzically before sitting next to Arlyn. “I thought I sensed you here. Ralan told us what happened, but I wanted to see for myself how you’d fared. Both of you.”

  “I am better than I should be. Far better,” Meli said. Then patches of red bloomed on her cheeks. “But we learned…”

  Arlyn glanced between them, a frown gathering. “What’s wrong?”

  “There is little to do but say it.” Lyr set his cup down with a thump. “When we were trying to bring her back, we learned…Meli’s soul…she was once your mother. In her previous life, she was Aimee.”

  Silence consumed the room. Arlyn’s mouth had dropped with shock, but she quickly snapped it closed. She tossed her head, and a dry chuckle slipped free. “That’s impossible. It’s only been a few years since Mom died.”

  “Time flows swifter on Alfheim,” Lyr answered, his chest constricting with concern.

  “She’s twenty-five. She’s grown. I feel some connection, it’s true, but…” Arlyn shot to her feet. “She is not my mother.”

  “You are correct. I am not,” Meli whispered. Sorrow haunted the gaze she lifted to Arlyn. “And yet, I’ve always had odd memories. Impressions. A red-haired girl with her hair in two strange tails. Buildings of metal, and stone, and glass. And that girl dancing in a blue dress in front of an odd wooden house in the woods. I used to dream of green eyes.”

  Arlyn paled. “It’s impossible.”

  “I thought so, too,” Lyr said. “But it’s true.”

  “I can’t just…” Arlyn lifted a shaking hand and then dropped it. “I need to think about this.”

  For a moment, she stared at them. Finally, Arlyn turned and strode from the room, a helpless, choked sound echoing behind her. Lyr pushed away from the table to follow, but Kai shook his head.

  “I’ll go to her. She needs a little time.” Kai stood and headed after her, but he turned at the door. “There’s a lot we have to do. Talk to Ralan about it.”

  Though none of this was his fault, Lyr ached nonetheless. His eyes met Meli’s saddened ones, and they both released a sigh. They weren’t the only people who would have trouble adjusting. But he understood. Oh, how well he understood.

  Meli had been tired after lunch, so Lyr had escorted her to her room. He’d thought then to check on Arlyn, but she’d told him she needed to be alone. Though she hadn’t seemed angry during their brief communication, he couldn’t help but worry, their relationship still tenuous enough that he feared damaging it. He didn’t want to intrude if it would make the situation worse. So he was left with work when he’d rather be anywhere else.

  It was rare that Lyr resented his place as Myern, but today, he did. Instead of exploring his new bond with Meli, he was stuck at his mirror preparing for two unpleasant communications. Lyr had sent a formal letter and a spelled crystal through the Veil to Alfheim before lunch, and if the soft, golden glow around the frame of his mirror was any indication, someone had attuned it to one on the other side. First, he’d contact Alfheim. Then the Neoran queen.

  Lyr sucked in a breath. Time to find out how Alfheim would react to Lady Teronver’s death.

  After pulling in a bit of extra energy, he activated the spell that would open the new link. The drag on his power was instant, the distance vaster than any he’d ever tried. But when an image flickered to life, the drain slowed and evened. The Ljósálfr female appraising him from the other side must be strong to contribute so much power.

  “I bid you greeting. I am Callian Myern i Lyrnis Dianore nai Braelyn of Moranaia. Have I reached Alfheim?”

  One golden-brown eyebrow rose. “You have indeed. I must say, you speak our language well for one so far removed.”

  “It is not by merit of memory but by grace of spell,” Lyr answered.

  “A spell unknown to me.” A look of consideration entered the woman’s gray eyes. “I am Lady Vionafer, High Mage of Alfheim. I am no diplomat, but then, you seem to still possess the one we sent.”

  Lyr held back a sigh. “I trust you received my letter? Lady Teronver was killed in an attack against Lady Ameliar.”

  “I did.” The mage’s brows drew together. “Why did someone attack them?”

  “You misunderstand.” His teeth ground together in anger at the memory. “Just before she stepped into the portal, the ambassador tried to kill Lady Ameliar. My own mage said it was a death spell. A soul-rending. Had she not been stopped before it was finished, Ameliar could not have been saved.”

  Lady Vionafer paled. “Soul-rending? That’s a closely held secret well beyond her training. I thought only a few…” she said, trailing off. Her mouth formed a thin line as she composed herself. “You have my deepest apologies. I must report this news to the king. While I understand she was being sent back in disgrace, she was the king’s cousin. I do not know how this will be received.”

  “Please know that Moranaia bears Alfheim no malice. Though my interactions with the lady ambassador were…unpleasant, the others in her party represented Alfheim well. I will be sending Berris and Orena through with a guide this afternoon with all honor.”

  “I also understand that Ameliar has decided to stay?”

  “Indeed,” he answered. The mage’s expression had grown inscrutable. Lyr hoped it didn’t bode ill. “Her talents are more than welcome here.”

  A small smile slipped across Lady Vionafer’s face. “As I suspected might be the case. She is well?”

  Lyr heard the click of the door opening, but he didn’t turn. He detected Ralan’s presence without the need to look. “Recovering, thankfully.”

  “I must apologize on behalf of Alfheim for the actions of Lady Teronver.” The mage’s mouth turned down once more. “I will send word of the king’s reaction once I have delivered this latest news. It may be some time before he is willing to open negotiations once more.”

  “Understandable, though I would remind him that it was he who sought our aid.”

  “Of course.” She inclined her head. “May fortune and blessings shine upon you until we speak again.”

  When the mirror faded to his own reflection, Lyr finally turned to face Ralan. His friend looked surprised, brows still lifted. Lyr gestured him forward. “Are you just going to stand there?”

  Ralan frowned for a moment before shaking his head. “Sorry. Who was that?”

  “The High Mage of Alfheim. More pleasant than I expected, honestly.”

  “I can’t see her,” the prince murmured.

  “Then how did you know—”

  “Her futures.” Ralan’s expression grew puzzled. “When she answered the mirror, the lines of the futures that concern Alfheim became muffled. Where she is, I cannot see.”

  Despite his unease with seers and their predictions, that news caused Lyr’s heart to race. “That can’t be good.”

  “I’m not sure. It’s never happened before, but after centuries of blocking my talent while on Earth, I’m out of practice.”

  Lyr wanted to accept the reassurance, but the worry in Ralan’s eyes negated it. However, he knew well enough that the prince would say no more on the subject until he was ready. “Did you need something?”

  “Before you contact the Neoran queen…” Ralan sighed, his gaze going to the view beyond the window before returning to Lyr. “Someone is going to have to go to Earth, and soon. I can’t see events there as well as I can things here, but I can tell that Kien has changed camps for the final time. If he finishes this portion of his plan, we fail.”

  “You want to attack Kien?”

  “Not directly. I think we should send Kai and Arlyn to his previous camp. If they disrupt the spell there, the entire thing will begin to crumple.” Ralan’s jaw clenched, his eyes suddenly alive with fury. “I’ll take care of Kien myself when the time comes.”

  Breath hissing in, Lyr strode over to the prince. “You want me to send my daughter and my best friend into danger on nothing
but your sight? You just told me you were out of practice. Miaran, Ralan, but you are not a god.”

  The seer stepped close, and his voice lowered to a whisper. “No. But Megelien is.”

  Chapter 27

  “It’s like losing her again.”

  Arlyn lay curled against Kai, his hand running soothingly through her hair. The tears had caught her by surprise, almost as much as the news that had caused them. She wasn’t a woman prone to crying, but even she had her limits. The thought of her mother being so close and yet not there at all was one of them.

  “I’m sorry, mialn,” he murmured against her forehead. “I cannot imagine learning such a thing.”

  She pulled back to look into his eyes. “Can’t you? Finding out Allafon wasn’t your father was painful. I sensed it from you. I still do, at times.”

  He stilled, and his lips turned up. “I should’ve known I couldn’t hide it. But it’s not quite the same. I have no desire to encounter him again, in this life or another one. Unless I get to kill him again for murdering my mother.”

  “A fine pair we are.” She dropped her head back on his shoulder. “Only one good parent between us, and he was late to the job.”

  “You aren’t angry at Lyr?”

  She frowned, considering. “No, not now. And certainly not about Meli.”

  Kai’s hand ran through her hair once more. “Then why wouldn’t you see him?”

  “I needed time.” Arlyn sighed. “To process. To feel. I’ve never given much thought to reincarnation. Meli may have memories of her past life, but she isn’t the same. I don’t know what to think about it or her.”

  “Lyr probably feels conflicted, too.”

  She nodded against his chest. “I’m sure.”

  They lay together quietly for a few moments, sharing comfort. Then Kai groaned, the sound vibrating against her ear. “I don’t suppose you’re ready to see Lyr now?”

  “I guess I can. Why?” Arlyn sat up and looked into Kai’s frustrated gaze. “What’s wrong?”

  “He just contacted me and said he needs to speak to us.” Kai tugged his long hair behind him and tied it back with a bit of leather. “Something about a mission.”