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Chapter 3
From the balcony Relian watched the morning sun come up over the ridge of mountains that flanked the valley. The coolness of the railing he leaned against seeped through his thin tunic and trousers. He welcomed the feeling, for it settled the infernal heat of his mind and body.
His sleep hadn’t been restful, but that was nothing new. She—both the woman and the girl—haunted him as surely as any spirit could. And now he knew why. They were one and the same.
Memory hammered at him as his mind drifted back to an evening ten years ago. The celebration had started normally. The participants danced, sang, and feasted—until they noticed her, the young human girl who observed them through the forming veil. Her feat caused surprise and, yes, fear. Rarely were humans sensitive enough to feel the veil’s magic, let alone have the sight to be able to peer through the rift it sometimes formed between the two dimensions. His people attributed the incident to her young age and the condition of the veil. In the past when elf and human mingled, children often saw what their parents could not.
But none of the other humans with her in the glade-like setting had been aware of the veil, not even the other children. A shudder ran up Relian’s spine. That time seemed so long ago. Yet ten years was nothing to an elf. What bothered him the most—something he’d never admit to anyone—was the lingering effect she had on him. A human who probably hadn’t seen any more than thirteen summers shouldn’t have had any pull on an elf. He felt a connection, an affinity to her he could never reason out. She’d been but a human girl and a child at that.
And then when the veil had taken.... Relian slapped his hand down on the balustrade. No, he wasn’t going there. Humans weren’t meant for Eria. His dreams had to remain a secret, and he must forget her. Too bad his mind and body didn’t seem to know that.
He dropped his head into his hands and rubbed his temples. All this pondering upon humanity, matched with his disturbingly sexual dreams, made his head pound. The present needed his thoughts. The past did not. Hollow words, said a voice in his mind, chilling in its truthfulness.
The fresh air called to him. He luxuriated in its caress, taking it deep into his lungs, before he sent one longing glance over the distant landscape. With a sigh, he turned away. How he wished he could roam out there, free. Unfortunately, there wasn’t any time for such indulgence this morning, not for Relian, the prince. Right now, his role as one of his father’s advisors, not to mention his position as heir, called him to duty. And after those roles had been dispatched for the day, he’d become a captain of the guard once again.
He set his teacup down by the remains of his breakfast. After entering his chamber, he slipped on formal robes. Early morning light trickled through the shutters and threw shadows into relief against the cream-colored walls.
His father had called a council meeting of his advisors to be held after breakfast. Relian couldn’t be late. Every morning for the last couple weeks, he ate his meal from the comfort of his balcony, not going to the great hall every other day or so as customary—something that caused whispers. If he were late to a meeting, it’d only cause the questioning murmurs to grow in magnitude.
Once at a side table, he poured herb water into a basin to cleanse his hands and face. Thankfully, the charm that’d been cast on the water for it to retain its warmth held. He quickly scrubbed himself dry and picked up the silver circlet that lay in a silver box. Adjusting it upon his brow, he deemed himself ready.
Relian opened the door and saw a chambermaid poised to knock. Her startled eyes met his. He gave her a slight smile and left the chamber, the familiar swish of his robes comforting him.
When he arrived at the council meeting, an air rife with frustrated helplessness greeted him. It mimicked his mood perfectly as the droning voices dragged on. Whitewashed walls closed in from all sides. With a sharp inhale, Relian shifted in his cushioned chair. Though quite comfortable, the seat threatened to become molded to his rear.
Little had been decided. Not that anything ever was, at least not without a lot of deliberate thought and planning. As king, his father would make the final decision but allowed the rest of the council their indecision for now. They had to undertake some course of action, though, in truth, he didn’t know what to suggest. All here knew well enough what plagued their land, but finding the solution was another matter entirely. No, there was no simple answer. A chill of foreboding settled over him. Looking to outside sources, ones not of their world, might have to be considered.
One of the councilors, an elvin male of indeterminate years with nondescript sandy hair, spoke. “The magic is not renewing itself, and what remains is disappearing. Without this magic, our defenses become weaker and the darkindred will soon overcome them. We have to restore balance before we lose all.”
His father’s chief advisor, Avrin, shook his head. “What do you propose we do? We know the connection, or lack thereof, between our worlds influences the drain. Both dimensions need to be brought back into balance. All that remains is how to do so. But unless the human world is ventured into, we’re at a loss for now.” He ended his short speech with a piercing look around the room.
The room went silent. Avrin said the one thing many weren’t ready to consider—that the human world might have the answer if they’d only look there. Even Relian, favoring that some plan of action be implemented sooner than later, would pause before going that far. His people avoided the human world and the few remaining outcasts there at almost any cost, though the exact reasons behind that had become murky. Erians had kept themselves separate from humans for so long they were now an insular society, something he’d never before minded. But now...that world held her.
The king, who’d been largely quiet, held up his hand for silence. The deceptively young contours of his face had set into lines of implacability, and his calm, authoritative tone matched his outward mien. “Even though these concerns are pressing, let us think on all we’ve discussed and start afresh tomorrow morning.” With a slight nod, he dismissed everyone but his son. “A moment with you, Relian.”
As Relian halted halfway to the exit, the weight of his father’s gray gaze burned an imaginary hole between his shoulder blades. So close to escape. He turned around and bowed, touching his fingertips to his forehead in a gesture of respect. “Yes, my king,” he answered formally, using his father’s title as everyone hadn’t yet vacated the room.
His father looked at him for a moment, a frown furrowing his brow. “You’re not looking well-rested, Relian. I believe you need a peaceful night to yourself.”
Relian’s mind froze at the use of his name. This, plus the concern in Talion’s voice, signaled that a torrent of parental interference awaited him. Best to stop it before it could be unleashed. “I have been busy, Father, as we all have been. We are full on all fronts with the enemy at hand, not to mention the issue of the fading magic.”
Mild irony infiltrated his tone, for his father appointed him many posts to oversee, which kept him busy from daylight to dusk. What did his father expect? Relian didn’t mind the responsibilities, and normally, sleep would only be a small issue, even with the long hours he kept. Though he didn’t need a lot of rest, he still needed some. His forays into the dream world kept him from getting the proper amount. This all soured his mood. While he could hide the effects from most, his father, damn him, would sense something amiss.
His father’s blonde eyebrows snapped together, frustration turning his eyes black. Talion waited for him to offer up more information. Relian snorted to himself. Well, his father could wait forever. “With your leave, my lord.”
Relian slightly bowed his head in deference and walked away before his father could dismiss him. The rude gesture wouldn’t be lost on the king. No, his father was quite astute and would watch him unrelentingly now. By the Mystics, though, he couldn’t bring himself to care.
***
Cal dropped down on her bed. Somehow, she’d made it back to her humble disco-era room, and for once she didn’t mind the carpet. She needed to sleep. It didn’t matter how freaky her dreams got, because she couldn’t function anymore. Her manager at work had let her off early because she “looked frazzled.”
Just enough light trickled in from the hallway for the mirror across the room to confirm that. Hair mussed up, dark circles under her eyes. Yeah, like death heated up in hell one too many times. She winced. Frankenstein had nothing on her. Even her friends said so. Well, not the part about looking like Frankenstein, but the hell part, yes.
Instead of heading straight home after work, she’d caught up to some movie-going friends. She hated the prospect of telling them the truth, so she didn’t. Had the manager needed her? No, of course not. Customers had been sparse. If her friends bought that story, she couldn’t tell, but they didn’t inquire further. Really, she probably hadn’t fooled anyone, given the way she trailed behind the small group like a zombie scenting flesh.
She crossed her arms over her chest. To make matters worse, she’d declined an invitation to go bowling after the movies. Her friends agreed with her decision, the nerve of them. They never discouraged a good time.
After pulling down her comforter haphazardly, she snuggled into her waiting blankets and watched the ceiling fan whirl over her head. Did any of her friends think she was on drugs? A bark of humorless laughter erupted at that thought. No, she was too goody-two-shoes for that. They probably believed she’d lost what little sanity she’d clung to in the last few months. And they didn’t even know of her past. Thank god. Well, except Maggie, and she only knew a little of it.
Now that Cal was in bed, the normally lumpy mattress felt so good, she couldn’t move. Her sneaker-clad feet hung over the bottom edge of the bed. She’d jump into the shower later and then put on her pajamas. Her eyes fluttered closed. Maggie was out, so she had the place to herself.
The recent happenings in her life were still secret. For the moment, she’d given up trying to find an answer. Dead ends were all she hit. The Mists of Avalon bookstore was mysteriously closed every time she walked past. Even if it were open, would she have the heart to go inside? The woman’s words, especially her parting ones, still rang in her ears.
