Sundered

by Bethany Adams

  Kai must have told her what he’d learned of his parentage, but he clearly didn’t want to discuss it. Instead, he and Lyr recounted how they’d escaped. Arlyn’s startled gaze darted to Meli when she heard how Kien had been defeated, at least temporarily. But when she asked about the other princes, Lyr realized for the first time that they hadn’t followed. He’d been too worried to think about them before.

  “She needs rest,” Nia interrupted, hands on hips. “Do not undo our work, for only a sound sleep will finish the job. You will have more than enough time for discussion later.”

  Lyr nodded, chastised. “Thank you for your aid, Princess Nia.”

  The fairy’s hands dropped, and some of her irritation eased. “Our family owes much to yours, Myern Lyrnis. Return when you decide what to do about Alfheim, now that their kind is one of yours. We’ll do what we can.”

  With those words, Nia shrank until her small form disappeared into the mists. Arlyn pushed at Kai until he let her stand. “I can walk,” she insisted. “You are tired enough, my love.”

  “Arlyn—”

  “But you can offer support.” Eyes shining, she took his arm and leaned heavily against him. Though he groaned, he didn’t argue, guiding her along the path.

  Despite all that had happened, Lyr couldn’t help but grin. If Arlyn was well enough to argue against her weakness, then she was going to be fine. He followed, Meli beside him, content to let his body ease further with relief. But it was short-lived, for he soon saw Lial striding down the path toward them, his face twisted into a scowl.

  “Would you stop disappearing?” the healer grumbled. “If not for Ralan, I wouldn’t even have known you’d returned.”

  Lyr glanced down. The cloak. With a grimace, he unclasped it and gathered it under his arm. “My apologies. I forgot I was still wearing this thing.”

  “Or to tell me when you left.” Lial’s mouth pinched into a thin line. “At least you warned your mother before you vanished for two days.”

  “Two days? Miaran.” Lyr ran his hand through his hair. “I had no idea time would pass so differently there.”

  Lial crossed his arms. “Where were you?”

  “A Sidhe lord’s private domain,” Lyr answered, shrugging. “Come with me, and I’ll tell you about it.”

  Lial fell into step beside Lyr as they continued toward the estate. Still upset, he filled Lyr in on estate business in short, clipped sentences. The Neoran children had been sent back to their queen, and the adults were almost ready to go. None remembered much of what had happened, only flashes of insanity and the Sidhe sweeping through. Frustrating, but not unexpected.

  Lyr peered up at the late afternoon sky. “Do you think they will be ready to leave in the morning?”

  “Yes, thankfully,” Lial answered. “Try not to get injured again. I’m due a few days’ rest.”

  With a laugh, Lyr agreed. Few needed rest as much as the healer.

  A few days later, Lyr leaned back in his chair and glared at the rippling glow surrounding his communication mirror. He’d spoken with the Neoran queen and settled a pressing dispute between two nobles along his branch. And still, there was more to be done. Next in line? Lady Vionafer of Alfheim. Sooner than expected, she had requested contact. He only waited for Meli to join him.

  When his bonded walked in, his glower slipped inevitably into a smile, the peace of her presence easing his frustration. Something had changed between them, though no words had been spoken. Neither had spoken of love, but it echoed along the bond. The words he would give her later, when he had time to savor the moment.

  “Do you think something happened in Alfheim?” she asked as she neared.

  His gaze traveled down her body. Telia had been busy while they were away, creating a light summer dress for Meli. The thin fabric caressed her in places he wanted to explore with his hands. At her soft laugh, he shook his head and forced his attention to her eyes.

  “Sorry.” He cleared his throat. “I…yes, I suspect something happened.”

  Lyr took a moment to gather his self-control before he stood, trying not to stare at Meli as she settled beside him. Then he activated the spell to communicate with Alfheim. Almost at once, the lady mage’s pale face greeted them.

  “Forgive me for the delay, Lady Vionafer,” Lyr said. “I was away from the estate.”

  “I thank you for any response, considering all that has occurred.” The mage’s hands shook as she gripped them in front of her waist. “Several days past, the darkened energy breached the north side of the city. I’ve moved those who lived there, but people are beginning to panic. And let me assure you—the Ljósálfar do not often panic.”

  Meli’s brows pinched. “My parents?”

  “They are well, though concerned.” A small, weary smile crossed Vionafer’s face. “It is good to see you safe, Ameliar. I always knew you would find your place. I was assured such by a charming mutual friend of ours.”

  “Loki?” Meli gasped.

  “The very one.” The mage straightened as if preparing herself. “I must admit to you that my king does not know about this discussion. He is still upset by the loss of Lady Teronver, his kinswoman, and blinded to the severity of the coming disaster. But yesterday, Freyr himself ordered me to act. I suspect we will have a new king ere long.”

  Lyr let out a long sigh. “What’s one more possible diplomatic nightmare? I suppose if you have the support of your god, that is well enough for me. We know the source of the energy poisoning and have disrupted the spell. But finding a way to fix the damage will take no small effort. In the meantime, the fairies of Braelyn have finally granted their aid.”

  The mage’s eyebrows rose. “The fairies? A surprise, that. Our ancestors were not kind to them.”

  Lyr saw no reason to explain that Princess Nia had agreed only because of Meli. “It seems you have the chance to make a better impression. I’m an uncertain of timing, as I must consult with my king, but I hope to send aid to Alfheim as soon as we can arrange it.”

  “You have my gratitude.” The mage straightened and her hands steadied. “And I assure you that is no small thing.”

  “Indeed.” Lyr inclined his head. “Rest assured that I will contact you as soon as possible.”

  After a few more polite words, the communication ended. Meli sagged against him, and he felt her concern like his own. Lyr gathered her into his arms. “We’ll see the problem solved and your family safe, mialn.”

  She settled her forehead against his chest. “I know.”

  Meli wandered the gardens while she could. Rain had fallen off and on in the day since they’d returned from the Sidhe realm. Her head tipped back as she searched the canopy, but it was difficult to see how thick the clouds had grown through the trees. Was it her imagination, or did the leaves look less green today? She had little concept of the seasons here.

  She wished she was still curled in bed with Lyr, but he’d risen early to see the remaining Neorans through the portal. Her body heated when she remembered the night they’d spent and the words of love he’d said. She glanced up again, this time hoping for a nice rain to cool her. Lyr was behind on his work and had spent much of his day shuffling papers in his study. She did not want to distract from that, or he’d be busy for days.

  But no rain fell, and Meli turned another corner to find Arlyn sitting on a delicate stone bench. She paused, uncertain what to do. It was the first time she’d seen Lyr’s daughter since their return the previous evening, as Kai had shuffled her off to their room to follow the fairy’s directive. Should she approach? Last she knew, Arlyn was still upset about the reincarnation.

  Before she could decide, the other woman looked up, and her face settled into a smile. “I won’t bite.”

  Meli gave a nervous laugh. “Bite?”

  “Sorry. It’s an Earth expression.” Arlyn’s grin widened. “I mean that I won’t get angry if you come closer. You don’t have to avoid me.”

  Meli took a few tentative steps forward.
“I know you wanted time to process what you learned about me. Are you still upset?”

  “Not anymore.” At Meli’s doubtful look, Arlyn shook her head. “After all that’s happened, it just…it doesn’t seem so important anymore. I can’t say I don’t still feel awkward about it, but we’ll work it out.”

  “At least we know why we feel connected.” She stepped a little closer. “I’m not your mother in this life, it is true. Maybe this time, we can be friends.”

  “I hope so,” Arlyn said. “I truly do.”

  Lyr tapped his fingers on his desk. This land dispute was an ancient one, the law so obscure he barely remembered it. His eyes scanned the books that lined his study, but none here would have the answer. His breath hitched. He was going to have to go into the library. Though nausea rose, he stood. There was no avoiding it.

  Lyr forced himself to proceed through will alone. This dispute could not be delayed without bloodshed. In truth, it was miracle enough that he’d made it so long without needing to enter. Clechtan, but Lyr’s mother had already braved the library. Why couldn’t he?

  Finally, he stood before the doors. Memories of his time in Allafon’s dungeon, held helpless by iron while mentally experiencing his mother’s mortal injury, seized his breath. Meli’s concern filled him through the bond, and he struggled to send her reassurance. He had to do this. It was long past time.

  Though his hand trembled, he pushed one of the doors open and slipped through. For almost five hundred and fifty years, Lyr had loved this room, and he breathed a sigh of relief to find that the feeling had not been erased. The spiral stairs that curled up the round room, stopping at a landing on each floor for access to the massive bookshelves, still brought back memories of childhood adventures. He’d spent many hours as a boy running up and down those stairs, pretending to be the guardian of some great trove.

  Lyr could just make out the sitting area where his family had often gathered to read at the top of the tower, his parents’ favorite spot. Pain stabbed him to know that his mother had fallen from there, a place so beloved. Slowly, he walked down the short set of stairs to the bottom floor. His gaze found the area where his mother had landed, and he shuddered.

  At a soft shuffling sound, he spun.

  “Lyr?” his mother asked from the doorway.

  “How can you bear it? Being here?”

  One corner of her mouth turned up. “Not always well, but I manage. There are good memories, too.”

  “Yes.” The tension in his gut loosened, and he could breathe freely again for the first time since he’d entered. “Now we just need to bring Kien to justice.”

  Lynia studied the shelves of books, and her mouth curved fully into a smile. “I’ll help find the answers we need. Never doubt it.”

  Later that night, Lyr lay with Meli in his arms, her hair tickling his nose. He needed to rest. Tomorrow, he’d be going with Ralan to meet with the king. A few days after he returned from that pleasant task, Lord Naomh was scheduled to arrive. And once he had the king’s input, he’d have to arrange expeditions to both Alfheim and Earth. He had more than enough work ahead.

  Meli shifted, and Lyr’s arms tightened around her. His body went hard, and he let out a sharp breath as her fingers made lazy circles on his chest.

  Then again, he could sleep later.

  About the Author

  When not writing or wrangling her two small children, Bethany enjoys reading, photography, and video games. Come say hello on social media!

  @bethjadams

  @writerbethany

  www.bethanyadamsbooks.com