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“I do not need you or your help. Not now. Not before.”
I could do nothing but watch as both elves gathered power. The air crackled with it.
Stories of magic had been left in the history of Darkmourn. Humans capable of magic, witches, had been the downfall of humanity and not a single soul left within the vampire-riddled world beyond cared to speak of it.
Except now I stood between two storms of power that were ready to clash into one another at any given moment. I could do nothing but watch, knife resting upon my thigh beneath the table, ready in case I had to use it against them.
“This was your chance to prove yourself,” Myrinn shouted across the tables, glass cracking beneath the weight of the liquids she controlled. “To Claria, to them all. To yourself.”
There was much unsaid between them, a story that I longed to dig my claws into and uncover but all I cared about was getting free of this place and returning to Auriol.
As if sensing my fear, Myrinn glanced towards me, and her power embedded away like water over rocks. The tension in the room retreated as her expression changed from anger to regret.
I waited for her to say something but instead she stood from her chair, leaving her soup forgotten, most of it now splashed across the table and soaking into the dark wood and sodden material; then she dropped her gaze and walked away.
“Wait.” I stood, not caring for the shadows that still gathered around us. It was Faenir’s power, the same I had seen in Tom’s room as he lay dead between us.
Faenir did not stop me as I followed after Myrinn. Nor did he notice as I slipped the knife into my belt that kept the oversized, leather breeches Faenir had supplied, from falling from my thin waist.
“Please, don’t leave me with him,” I called out, breathlessly chasing after her.
“I am sorry, Arlo,” Myrinn murmured, long legs keeping her a pace ahead of me as she moved through Haxton.
“No. If you are then take me with you,” I begged. My urgency filled my throat and threatened to make me gag with desperation.
“There is nowhere for you if I do.”
I reached out and gripped her forearm. “You have said that my being here is wrong. There must be a way for me to return home. I have to get back to her.”
“Your sister,” Myrinn said, lips pulled tight. “It is the girl you had stopped Faenir from touching?”
“Yes,” I spluttered, almost melting beneath the sorrow in Myrinn’s bright eyes. “I am the only person she has left. She is the only personIhave left. I need to return to her.”
“Even if I wish I could, there is nothing I can do for you, Arlo. The veil between Evelina and Darkmourn is weak. Unpredictable. There is a lot to be said about the powers that Queen Claria has sacrificed keeping your kind safe within the boundary wall. Because of this she only has enough reserves to open the door between our realms at the turning of a season. Only she has the power to grant your return home. Even if she does, it would not be until the next turn of the seasons.”
I gripped the pouch at my belt and clung to the vial of blood that waited within. As my mind raced, I tried to calculate how long the blood would keep me alive before winter became spring.
“Then you must take me to her! To your Queen.”
Myrinn’s gaze fell to her feet. “I cannot.”
My legs gave out. I fell to the floor, the crack of my knees against the slabbed floor did not dampen the pain that filled my soul and threatened to rip me apart.
To Myrinn it looked as though her confirmation of my fate in this realm had caused this reaction. The truth of what brought me to my knees was far beyond my ability to admit.Would I die before I could ever return home?
She knelt before me, skirt billowing out around her. I did not flinch as her fingers reached for my chin and lifted it up so I could do nothing but look at the screaming sympathy that spilled from her.
“I will do what I can to send word to the Watchers of your home and pass a message on to your sister. It is frowned upon, but I will do it as my apology for my cousin’s actions. You are a victim of his selfish choice, and I cannot do anything but express my regret for what has occurred.”
Tears filled my eyes. I feared to blink for them to spill and reveal my weakness. “I… I need to speak to her.”
Myrinn dropped her hand and stood. She towered above me, her frame casting a shadow over my kneeling frame.“You belong to Faenir. You are his property. There are rules we must uphold and interfering with another’s Chosen is forbidden. But…” I looked up at her as her whisper settled over me. “There will be a ball within the coming days. Encourage Faenir to take you and I will be there waiting to share news of your sister. Queen Claria will be hosting, if you wish to speak with her then you can do so… but it must seem like it is on Faenir’s terms.”
“I don’t understand what you want from me… whathewants from me,” I said.
Myrinn turned her back on me in more ways than one. She moved for the main doors of Haxton Manor as she replied, “Faenir is troubled, but he is not dangerous. Not to you at least.”
“He kills. I have seen it,” I shouted, my words echoing across the empty, cold manor.
