by Lynette Noni
Her blood wasn’t silver. It was red.
Stumbling over her own feet, she narrowly missed losing her hand to Roka’s blade as she cried out, “Stop!”
Her voice sounded fearful to her own ears, aware that if he so much as nicked her with his sword, her guise as a Meyarin would be over before it even began.
“I—I, uh, think I’ve had enough for tonight,” she said, panting from both exertion and the terror zinging through her nerve endings.
“But you were doing so well,” Roka said. “Definitely a natural.”
Alex was shaking her head. “You were going easy on me.”
“That doesn’t make my words any less true. Are you sure you want to stop?”
“Absolutely,” Alex said, handing back his sword. “Maybe, uh, maybe we can give it a go another time.”
Roka was watching her closely. She tried to keep her sudden panic off her face, but she wasn’t sure if she succeeded.
“If that is what you wish,” he said slowly, “then I guess we’ll just practise again tomorrow.”
Alex wilted with relief. Now all she had to do was find an excuse between now and then in order to avoid the inevitable outing of her mortality.
“You have good speed and instinctual reflexes at your disposal already,” Roka went on, “as well as a keen awareness. But your technique could use some work, as well as your confidence and skill with a blade. I truly do believe you are a natural, as I said, but there is plenty of room for improvement.”
What really sucked was that if this were the future, she’d be all over Roka teaching her how to strengthen her fighting skills. In fact, up until her internal freak out a moment ago, she’d even been looking forward to the Roka of the past teaching her. But now it was impossible—there was no way she could put herself in a position where he might discover the truth, which would happen if she so much as skinned her knee from falling to the ground too hard. She couldn’t believe Lady Mystique hadn’t considered the problem of her blood—because it was a problem.
“We might as well head to the library and get a few hours of language lessons in before bed,” Roka said, bending to tap the ground and lower the Myrox dome around them again.
With Alex’s adrenaline scoring through her veins, her Meyarin senses were still activated, so she was able to see the faintly glowing disc imbedded into the mat at their feet. How Roka knew what pattern to press into it was another matter, but at least now she could see more of what was once invisible to her human eyes.
It was also a great surprise when she literally saw the Valispath solidify around them, presumably at his mental summons. It was still mostly transparent, but she was now able to see a blurry outline of the rectangular barrier. Just like the disc on the fighting mat, there was a similar glowing plate at chest level—likely what the Meyarins of her future used to alter the Path’s settings and make it more comfortable for humans.
Before Alex could inspect it further, the Path dropped them off in a vast room lit with numerous ancient bookcases and myraes-lit sconces.
The Meyarin palace’s library was like a medieval fantasy come to life. The walls were lined with thousands upon thousands of books, with ladders leaning against the cases to provide access to the tomes on the higher levels. And there actually were levels to the bookshelves. While the middle of the library was hollowed out straight up to the domed ceiling, there were second and third floors of books accessible by ladders, with narrow bridge-like paths circumnavigating the border of the room in between.
“I think I’m in love with this room,” Alex said as Roka led her to a polished table made out of timber from the Silverwood and held a chair out for her.
“The library is one of my favourite places in the palace,” Roka admitted. “The knowledge of the ages can be found in here. You could read for a lifetime and still not make your way though all the tomes on offer.”
Given that the Meyarin lifetime had no limit, barring early death, Alex knew that was quite a proclamation.
As if reading her thoughts, he grinned and sauntered over to one of the bookcases where he withdrew an armful of books, bringing them back to set down on the table.
“We’ll cover the basics tonight,” he said. “Our language is in your blood, regardless of whether you’ve grown up hearing it or not, so it shouldn’t take long for you to master it.”
Alex wished she could be as confident as he sounded.
Roka took a seat beside her and said, “Let’s start at the beginning.”
Fifteen
Hours later, Alex collapsed onto her bed, exhausted after Roka’s seemingly unending language lesson.
The prince had taught her simple words like ‘no’ (naha), ‘yes’ (sesu), ‘you’ (sae), ‘me’ (rae), ‘I’ (trae), ‘ please’ (nalahi) and ‘thank you’ (atari sae). They had progressed through the basics at blinding speed, aided mostly by Alex already understanding the language, and perhaps also by her Meyarin blood-induced accelerating learning. By the end of their session, she’d been stringing together simple sentences like, ‘Hello! How are you today?’ (Kendara! Le noran sae risa?), ‘Please help me, I’m hurt!’ (Nalahi suros rae, trae de frayon!) and ‘Would you like fries with that?’ (Koral en fries de sae trivva?). The last was Alex’s idea of a joke, even if Roka didn’t understand the reference. But still, she felt as if she’d left her mark on the past just by educating the prince about the wonder of deep-fried potatoes.
Happy to finally be in bed after her insane day, she just started to drift off when a voice called to her.
Alex? Can you hear me?
Xiraxus? Alex sat up and turned to squint out over her balcony, seeing the romantic glow of the city at night but no draekon in sight. Where are you?
Draekora, he answered, surprising Alex that they were able to communicate so clearly despite the distance between them. Today was hard on you. I thought I’d check to make sure you’re okay.
Alex felt a bubble of gratitude at the draekon’s concern. If nothing else, her sojourn to the past had at least given her a new friend.
Yeah, just tired. Today went beyond my usual kind of weird.
You do feel tired, Xiraxus commented. I should let you get some sleep.
Even though he couldn’t see her, Alex frowned in confusion. How do you know how I feel?
The vaeliana links me to your emotions. Whenever you feel something strongly, I feel it too.
Alex wasn’t sure if she felt more amazed or violated by the idea of someone—draekon or not—being able to sense her feelings.
You can’t manipulate my emotions, can you?
No, Alex, he said with a deep chuckle. Your feelings are your own—I can just read them. Like how a moment ago you were filled with apprehension, but now you’re calming again.
She let out a relieved breath. Good to know.
You’ll feel even calmer after a proper night’s sleep. I’ll talk to you again soon.
Xira? she called before he could ‘disappear’.
Yeah?
I just… Alex hesitated, not sure how to articulate what she wanted to say. But then she settled on, Thanks for saving my life today. I know this whole situation is about a thousand different kinds of crazy and I haven’t been quiet about not wanting to be stuck in the past. But the truth is, everything happens for a reason, and I wouldn’t be here—alive—without you. So, thanks for bonding with me.
There was silence for a moment until Xiraxus responded, Aw, shucks, Alex. We’re having a moment.
Narrowing her eyes, Alex wondered about the fairness of him not only picking up her language through the bond, but also the ability to use it sarcastically. Instead of saying anything more, she sent him a mental image of her whacking him over the head with a pillow. In return, she received a deep belly laugh before she felt his presence vanish from her mind.
After that, she lay back down again and fell asleep with a smile still lingering on her face.
Alex’s second day in the past turned out to be much mo
re relaxing than her first.
She was collected early in the morning by Kyia and delivered to a small sunroom to breakfast with the queen, of all people. On her own. That should have raised Alex’s anxiety levels, but the truth was, this version of Niida seemed nothing but welcoming. This was proven again when Alex took a seat in a cushioned chair and the queen merely reached over and squeezed her hand comfortingly, sending her a friendly smile before returning to sip from what looked like a mug of hot chocolate. Indeed, when Alex’s breakfast was brought in on a platter, she too received a serving of the decadently rich liquid.
The queen, seeing Alex’s delight at the drink, said in broken words of the common tongue, “It’s guilty, my pleasure. Keep our secret, yes?”
Alex hadn’t been able to deny Niida a return smile and nod of agreement.
“You can speak my language?” she asked hesitantly, not sure if she was supposed to remain silent or address the queen more formally as befitting her station.
Niida gave a self-deprecating laugh. “Only basic convention.”
“Conversation,” Alex corrected without thinking.
Fortunately, Niida laughed again instead of demanding Alex’s head. “Astophe and Roka more—uh, better?—yes, they better versed in common tongue. But I get by simple. Will learn proper now, to speak you.”
“You already speak it very well, Your Highness,” Alex semi fibbed, touched by the queen’s gesture. “And I’m grateful for you making the effort.”
They ate the rest of their meal in companionable silence, with Alex relaxing even more as the sun streamed through the windows of the room and thawed her lingering tension.
But the relaxation couldn’t last forever, and all too soon the queen had to excuse herself to go about her royal duties. Left alone, Alex wasn’t sure what to do, not until Aven walked in.
Forcing her body language to remain unruffled, she even managed to partly return his smile of greeting, ignoring the twist of her insides as she did so.
“Good morning, Lasa Aeylia,” he said, standing before her and surprising her with his perfect use of the common tongue. Then he winced and switched to Meyarin, saying, “Forgive me, I forgot that Roka mentioned you’d prefer to remain informal.” He shook his head as if at himself. “I know you probably have no idea what I’m saying, even if my brother informs me that your language lessons are coming along well. But he wrote this for me to give you anyway.”
Aven handed over a scrolled piece of parchment with a silvery-gold shine to it, and she realised it must have been made from the trees in the forests surrounding Meya. It was very pretty, as far as paper was concerned.
Unrolling it, Alex read Roka’s words inscribed in a running calligraphy, perfectly written in the common language:
Aeylia, I’m sorry for not meeting you in person this morning, but my father requires my assistance regarding a matter of urgency. Being at the beck and call of my people is but one of the perks of inheriting an immortal kingdom.
At that, Alex could imagine the prince she knew rolling his eyes and she had a feeling this Roka would act the same. She smiled to herself and continued reading.
I should be back early this evening to continue our lessons, but until then, my brother will take good care of you.
Alex had to still the sudden trembling of her hand.
I’ve informed him that you have caught on well to our language but your knowledge is rudimentary and needs much improvement. Don’t worry; he won’t try to engage you in scintillating conversation just yet. I believe he has plans to show you around the city so that you may acquaint yourself with the glory that is Meya. I only hope you will have enough energy left for our evening lessons upon my return.
Again, Alex could pick up a note of dryness to Roka’s tone, and it helped ease the knots in her stomach at the idea of spending the day playing tourist with Aven.
Don’t be afraid to ask questions in both your tongue and ours. At my urging, Aven began his own language lessons last night and, like you, will soon be fluent. Enjoy your outing, and I’ll see you tonight, Roka
Alex read the note slowly a second time just so that she had time to stifle her panic before meeting Aven’s eyes. He was looking directly at her, waiting, it seemed, for her reaction.
Giving herself a mental pep-talk, Alex reminded herself that this was not the evil Aven of the future and it was at least possible that she might make it through the day in his company without being threatened, stabbed or Claimed. Having little option but to go with it—the alternative being to scream and run for the hills—she summoned her courage and gave him a tentative smile.
The beaming grin he offered in return was so dazzling that she was momentarily dumbfounded by his radiance.
“Don’t look so scared, Aeylia,” he told her in Meyarin, clearly seeing through her attempt at courage. “I’ll look after you today. You have nothing to fear.”
Deciding to show some spine, Alex quietly lied, “Atari sae, Aven. Genada torra kin de sae.” Meyarin for, ‘Thank you, Aven. That’s very kind of you.’
The startled look on his face was well worth her words. “Roka was right—you are a quick learner.”
Since his words were more complicated this time, she sent him an apologetically puzzled expression and acted like she couldn’t understand.
“I guess something is better than nothing,” he murmured, holding out a hand and switching to her tongue. “Follow me, Aeylia. Meya awaits.”
With nothing left to lose—except, well, everything—Alex stood to her feet. She couldn’t quite bring herself to take his proffered arm, so she busied her hands by smoothing down the fabric of her outfit instead. She wasn’t sure how she felt about the ensemble Kyia had laid out for her that morning. If her parents were around, they would say it was very ‘elf-like’, since it looked like something one would expect a mythical being to wear. It was stunning, for sure, with a full-length, pale green skirt that fell from her hips and flowed to the floor to meet a pair of strappy flats that were equally pretty. That part was lovely; it was more the top half Alex was uncertain about, since the clothing began only partway up her ribcage, leaving a great deal of midriff bare. Cutting almost horizontally across her upper chest, it also left her shoulders and collarbones exposed, and the short sleeves wrapped around her upper arms like coiling bracelets. What little material the bodice held was embroidered with intricate lace designs, all of it matching the summery colour of the skirt.
It was a beautiful outfit, like something fit for a Meyarin princess. But Alex was uncomfortably aware that her exposed skin was freakishly shimmering thanks to her bond with Xiraxus. It wasn’t noticeable to anyone standing more than a few metres away, but to anyone within that range with Meyarin sight, her bioluminescence was impossible to miss.
Unfortunately, there was nothing she could do about her golden sheen, so with a feeling of resignation—for many, many reasons—she silently followed Aven as he led the way out of the sunroom.
When they reached the hallway, he held out his hand for her again—persistent, much?— and this time she had no excuse that wouldn’t seem downright rude. So, with the trepidation of a mouse poking a tiger, she tentatively placed her non-scarred palm against his. When the world didn’t instantly implode, she looked up to find Aven glancing at her curiously.
“You’re a jumpy little thing, aren’t you?”
Like before, Alex thought it best not to let on how much she understood. And besides, what was she supposed to say to something like that? ‘Only around you, you psychopathic murderer’? Yeah, right.
Curling his fingers securely around hers, Aven pulled her closer. She made a startled noise at their sudden proximity but thankfully it was mostly drowned out when he activated the Valispath. Within moments they were outside the palace and soaring swiftly along a route of Aven’s choosing.
When they came to a stop, Alex took a quick step back, extricating herself from his hold and avoiding eye contact by glancing around at their new surroun
dings. It appeared Aven had brought them to the edge of Meya, right where the land dropped off to meet the river containing the deluge falling from the cliffs surrounding the city. The stunning aquamarine water was captivating, with ripples glinting as they reflected both the light of the sun and the Myrox from the nearby buildings.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Aven said in her language, and when she turned to him, it was to find him staring intently not at the water, but at her. “We call it ‘De la sondrae tella de fora’.” He gave a rueful shake of his head and switched back to Meyarin. “But that’s meaningless to you without me knowing the translation in the common tongue.”
He turned away, clearly frustrated. But Alex didn’t need his translation.
De la sondrae tella de fora. ‘The light that falls from the stars.’
It sounded as lovely as the view in front of them deserved, with the water lit up like a thousand rays of starlight dripping from the heavens to the earth. Alex almost considered communicating with Aven that she understood, given how upset he appeared to be by their language barrier. But before she could decide, a voice called out, diverting her attention.
“Aven! Finally! By the stars, where have you been? You were supposed to meet me over an hour ago!”
Alex’s breath hitched as the owner of the impatient voice stepped out from the balcony of what looked to be some kind of waterside bistro with a sign calling it De Talen—‘The Edge’. She knew her expression showed her surprise, but she couldn’t help it. He looked so different from when she’d seen him just a few days ago. No longer grungy and dressed in millennia-old prison rags, Niyx was as youthful and full of vitality as Aven. His amethyst eyes were sparkling, his black hair was still choppy but shining with health, and replacing his pale skin was a glowing tan.