Hidden deep among twisting and gnarled trees of wood she didn’t think existed on a map, they came up on a stone circle structure overtaken by draping vines, and moss that covered most of the gray surface. Deep red and purple roses surrounded its base.
“You weren’t joking when you said it wasn’t well known.” Layala slid down from Midnight’s back and made her way over to touch the surface of it. It was both cool and somehow warm at once. It lightly vibrated against her touch, as if the power within was barely contained.
The thing whispered, “Who are you?” in an eerie voice and she jerked back. Losing her footing on a vine, she started to fall until Thane grabbed her around the waist, steadying her.
“What’s wrong?”
She liked the feel of his warm hands on her more than she’d ever admit and tugged away. “Did you hear that?”
Thane’s eyebrows lowered. “Hear what?”
“It—it spoke when I touched it. I think we should go back.”
A serpentine smile. “Did it ask what color of underwear you have on or something? You seem shocked.”
Her skin prickled at the thought of that voice, or was it his question? “This isn’t a joke. How can a stone circle speak?”
He lifted a shoulder and tugged Phantom by the reins toward it. “Your guess is as good as mine. It was created by our Mage ancestors and, as I’m sure you’re aware, we don’t know how they did these things. The Black Mage was the only one of his kind to create rune spells. Mage Vesstan knows how to perform them but doesn’t have the ability to create.”
Thane touched the circle and the runes at the top began to glow with a bluish light. He whispered something Layala couldn’t hear and then the middle shimmered to life, swirling what lay on the other side into a blur. “Thane Athayel,” a voice whispered, tasting the name like a lover who had long awaited him. “Who is your companion?”
The voice projected all around them, not coming from a single source.
His green eyes flicked to hers. “A friend.”
“Touch the stone,” the voice cooed. It didn’t sound male or female, and it was both deep and light, with almost a hissing element to it.
“It must grant you permission,” Thane clarified.
“Is it a test?” she took an involuntary step back toward Midnight. She placed her hands against his shoulder for comfort. “What if I don’t pass?”
Thane didn’t look worried when he said, “I don’t know. I didn’t fail.”
She glared.
“Worst case scenario is it won’t allow you to pass through and we’ll have to take the long way which is three days ride, and that would present us with the task of sneaking past their border patrol.”
“That’s the worst-case scenario?” She nibbled on her bottom lip. “What if it finds me unworthy and sends me”—she didn’t want to say it, it sounded absurd but it was a real fear—“to the Void? You said yourself you don’t know how it works.” With her dark magic, she didn’t trust an ancient relic to judge her.
Thane gave her a placating look. “Then it will have to send me, too. I’ll hold your hand when we pass through, and I won’t let go.”
She swallowed hard, trying to fight the ever growing nervousness. “You would do that? But if you went to the Void—”
“I’d likely die or turn into a pale one, I know. And if I stayed without you, the same would happen. But I’m not worried and you shouldn’t be.”
She nodded slowly and lifted her chin. She wouldn’t be a coward. Hand hovering over the stone structure, she felt that hum again. Then before she could talk herself out of it, she stuck her hand to the portal.
“Hello again,” it whispered. She almost stepped away but rooted herself there. After a moment an inner pull seemed to tug through her hand as if the portal was taking something from her. “Magic,” the voice purred. “Beautiful, twisted, wild.”
“Can we pass?” Thane urged.
“Yes,” it said, “but you know what I require.”
“Take it from me, not her.”
“I’ve already had yours.”
Layala looked back, still holding steady. “I think, I think it’s taking magic…”
Thane rushed forward and jerked her away from the portal, arms wrapped around her middle and swung her behind him. The voice let out a hissing laugh and said, “You may proceed.”
He swore and released her. “Come on, quickly before it closes.” They both took hold of their horses and Thane held out his hand, palm up. Layala looked at it briefly, and convinced herself that her racing heart was only for fear of stepping into a portal. She set her hand in his, and his fingers closed around hers. With her pulse drowning out the noise of the forest, they stepped through.
When they came out on the other side, they were in another wood, but much different than the one they left; it even smelled distinct. Wetter, as if it had rained recently, and hints of pine. The warm-toned tree trunks were massive, wide enough to fit three elves across with arms spread wide. The leaves were varying shades of reds and yellows and greens all mixed together as if the season changed but she suspected that they stayed colorful permanently. Some pine trees were mixed in with their sharp evergreen needles.
The portal closed behind them leaving the stone circle appearing as lost and ancient as it did on the other side. The difference was this one didn’t have roses at its base but a rainbow of wildflowers.
“See, we’re not in the Void,” Thane said, dropping her hand. “But we are in a different land so keep your guard up.”
Midnight dug at the ground and then took a mouthful of flowers. Layala tugged him forward away from the portal and that creepy voice. What did it take from her to cross? It said it required something. If it had stolen some of her magic…
Thane held out a dagger, a twelve-inch blade if she had to guess; the handle black onyx crisscrossed with jade stone. “Take it.” He pushed it closer.
She desired to snatch it up like a hungry beggar would bread, but composed, she reached out and grabbed hold. “Thank you.” She slid it into her belt and a wave of comfort cascaded over her. Weapons were her safeguard, her shield against danger.
“We’ll walk beside the horses until we reach a clearing,” Thane motioned for her to follow. Tree roots jutted up all around, rocks and uneven ground with no path in sight. Easy to trip or lose footing. Layala nodded and pulled Midnight. It wasn’t long before they came upon a path winding through the thick woods. Thane helped her to mount Midnight and then they set off, riding side by side.
“Do the elves here truly live in the trees?” she imagined with the large circumference of the tree trunks one could live inside.
“They carve out the center, cut windows, use the leftover wood for stairs, doors, furniture, the like. The trees continue to live too. They enjoy providing shelter for the elves.”
“I would love to see it.” She heard stories of the treehouses, and always thought it would be interesting to visit. A child’s dream.
“We won’t be going anywhere near the city. And Mage Vesstan lives in a regular cottage.” He looked her over. “Another time, perhaps.”
Hearing the mage’s name made her wonder why Thane was helping her. Maybe he already knew the mage wouldn’t tell her how. Had he commanded him long before now not to? “Why did he come to Calladira? I thought he was a high elf.”
“He is,” Thane’s mouth twisted. “You’ll have to ask him why, but I suspect it’s because it’s so peaceful here. Something I wish for Palenor.”
“But the Valley of the Sun is peaceful, isn’t it?” It was enchanting, at least.
“In some ways, but mothers know at some point their sons will have to go off to war. They train from a young age to fight pale ones. That’s not peace.”
They reached a clearing in the woods and at the center was a small thatched-roof cottage. It was painted yellow with white shutters and a rich brown front door. Potted lily flowers sat on either side of the entrance. Shrubs lined the well-manicured front path. A male dressed in a light green robe held a silver watering can in one hand and with the other, he shielded the sun from his eyes.
Thane waved at him, and he returned the gesture. A wooden post hitch waited at the start of the path. Thane slid down and tied Phantom to it. Layala quickly followed and hurried to catch up to his side. She knew instantly what the consequence was Thane talked about. Mage Vesstan’s knobby, crooked hand barely gripped the pail. His skin wrinkled and spotted as if his hundreds of years showed as it would in a human. Silver hair and thick white eyebrows matching his beard. The use of magic aged him. It must be it. Elves could live thousands of years and not show the penalty of time.
Mage Vesstan dipped his head as they approached. “My, my, I wondered when I’d see you again after…” He trailed off and Layala didn’t know if he forgot what he meant to say or if he didn’t want to finish. “You’ve grown much.” He turned to Thane. “Young prince, it is good to see you.”
“I am High King now.” He didn’t say it in a bragging manner, simply stating a fact, but with that statement came implications. The mage worked for Tenebris for many years.
A white eyebrow ticked up. “Word doesn’t travel fast out here I’m afraid. Come inside. It seems we have much to discuss.” Painstakingly slow, he hobbled his way toward the front door. Layala wanted to take his arm and help him, but she didn’t know if he’d find it offensive; after all he lived out here alone. But Thane didn’t have the same hesitation. He slipped his arm through Vesstan’s and helped him up the step and over the small hump to get inside. “Thank you, sire.”
The first thing Layala noticed about the small cottage was the smell of mint leaves and lavender. She gently closed the door behind her while Thane guided Vesstan to a padded rocking chair. The inside was simple, a small kitchen with two cabinets, a sink, a black stove and an island, a living room with a wooden table, and a set of chairs with it. A slender but full bookshelf, and the single rocking chair he sat in with a tiny table with several books stacked beside him. She suspected a closed door to the right led to a bedroom.
Letting out a sigh, he said, “Ah, I should make some tea.”
“Allow me to do it.” Thane went into the kitchen. He opened a cupboard, pulled out a teapot then walked outside.
Layala hovered near the door, unsure if she should sit or wait to be invited to sit. “Now, Layala Lightbringer,” Mage Vesstan said, shifting to look at her. “I suspect you have questions for me.”
She stepped forward, her light feet creaking on the floorboards. “I have one, mainly.”
His knobby hands lightly bounced against the armrests. “Just one?”
She decided to grab the dining table chair and set it in front of the mage and sat down to face him. “Yes. I need to know how to break the mate spell between Thane and me.”
His bushy eyebrows shot up, wrinkling his forehead further. “Oh dear.” He stared at her for a moment. “I’m afraid you can’t, although I don’t know why you’d want to. Thane has—” the door squealed open, and Thane stepped back inside.
“The well water is as delicious as I remember.”
“Oh yes,” Vesstan nodded. “Quite refreshing. It’s what keeps me alive.”
She prepared for him not to give an answer so easily. “Rune spells can be undone, can’t they?”
That brought his attention back to her. He closed his eyes, and for a moment she thought he fell asleep. Until he took a deep breath and his eyelids fluttered open. “No. No spells created by the Black Mage have ever been undone unless he was the one to undo it. He was clever in that. It’s how he was able to create so many pale ones, you see. If his spells weren’t fulfilled or the price not paid, they’d turn. He was meticulous in making certain that there was no way out of it once done.”
Her stomach dropped. “What price must be paid?”
“Thane hasn’t told you?”
She twisted around to see him setting the kettle on the burner. He didn’t look up, but she knew he heard. What else did he keep from her?
“You must finish the spell and be wed.”
“He told me that. Is that all?” she prodded.
His rich brown eyes searched hers. His weathered face took on an air of distress. “My dear, that’s the part that worries me.” He swallowed and started rocking slowly. “It’s not a price per se, more of a stipulation but… you must—”
The hot water hissed and squealed, Layala jumped a little. How did it come to a boil so quickly?
“Tea is ready.” Thane poured three small white teacups full. Steam rose up from each bringing with it the smell of lemon citrus. “What Vesstan was about to say is we must be wed under a full moon, which is a little less than eight weeks away. It happens to coincide with our deadline, well, a day earlier.”
Vesstan’s gaze held Thane’s for a moment. Layala found something odd about the exchange, but then he nodded in agreement. “Yes, that’s what worries me. Waiting until the day before you turn into a pale one is frightening. If something should go wrong…” He gave Thane a stern look. “He waited too long to find you.”
A full moon rose the previous night, which meant they missed that opportunity. “Isn’t there anything else we can do? A counter-spell or an object or something?”
Thane handed him a cup of the steaming liquid, and the mage shook his head. “Not to my knowledge.” Layala accepted hers but didn’t drink just yet. He took a sip of tea. “Very good, sire, thank you.” He stared off for a moment. “Although there may be something.”
Layala’s heart thudded loudly. I knew it, she thought. Thane swore as his teacup and plate clanked as he nearly dropped them.
“Are you alright?” Vesstan asked.
“I’m fine.” He shook his hand. Layala suspected it spilled over and burned his fingers. “It’s just,” he paused with a sharp look at Vesstan, “when I asked you some years ago you said there was absolutely no way out of it and when I asked you six months ago you said the same thing.”
“Well,” he took another sip, likely buying some time, “I don’t know of a way, and what I’m thinking is probably not worth looking into but there is a Drakonan sorceress who worked with the Black Mage. It’s rumored she is still alive, living in the Sederac Mountains. If anyone knows, it’s her. I fear we are in desperate times now.”
She wasn’t sure what he meant by desperate times. Did he want them apart? “A dragon shifter sorceress?” Layala asked.
Thane stiffened. “We don’t go into dragon territory. And if this shifter worked with the Black Mage, she’d try to kill us before she would help us.”
Knowing Thane was correct, Layala inhaled the sweet scent of citrus, hoping it would uplift her mood. “I want to go.” Both Thane and Vesstan stared at her.
“You’d rather die than marry Thane?” Vesstan asked. “Because that is the risk you’re taking and there is no guarantee she would have an answer or would be willing to give one if she did.”
Of course, she wouldn’t rather die, but she could get answers. A part of her training was inflicting pain to get people to talk. Layala set the cup on the plate in her hand. “It’s worth risking at the very least. I need to know. I want to go home.” If she didn’t at least try, she’d be angry with herself forever. She couldn’t be tied to this king without exhausting every option. She couldn’t be connected to the family that murdered her parents and killed in her name. She heard the stories from drifters who came into Briar Hollow, telling how entire towns were burned. Children ripped from their mother’s arms to be thrown into a prison cart while their parents were cut down, and everyone knew Thane was one of the king’s best warriors. It didn’t matter how cordial he was now. Anyone could pretend to be a certain way for a short period of time.
“This is worse than I thought,” Vesstan mumbled. He sat up a little straighter and smiled at Layala. “Will you go out to the well and get an old man some cool water, please?”
“Of course.” She stood and set her cup on the kitchen island. Even if he just wanted to get rid of her so he could speak to Thane alone, he had that right. “Is there a particular glass?”
“In the cupboard, any will do.”
She grabbed the first one she saw, a simple jar with a handle and headed for the door.
“It’s just around the back of the house,” he said with a wave of his hand.
She stepped out into the temperate air, the sun warming the skin of her face. For a moment she closed her eyes, and basked in its glory. If she was to go to the Sederac Mountains, she’d be exposed to frigid temperatures and would miss this warmth that filled her with an energy only the sun could. After walking around the cottage, she spotted the well and followed the stone path to it. Lowering the bucket, it dipped into the water, and she tugged the rope hand over hand pulling it up until it reached the top. She took the bucket in her hands and a drink from it. The water tasted almost sweet and more refreshing than any she’d ever had before. In moments she felt lighter, happier. With another gulp, she smiled, and a tingle went through her body. She felt like she could run for days and not tire. No wonder the stuff kept the old elf alive.
Sitting on the edge of the brick well, she watched butterflies and pixies and birds of all kinds flutter around the clearing. When she felt she’d given them enough time to talk, she headed back, but she paused outside the door, listening.
“This is not something to trifle with,” Vesstan said. “You waited too long. Now I fear you have no other choice but to find a way. And perhaps you should tell her the truth.”
What is he keeping from me?
“There is always a choice. I’m not giving up.” His footsteps padded across the floor. “And to see this dragon shifter? Bringing her straight to the enemy’s hands isn’t only a ridiculous idea. It’s not an option. Period.”
“Better to have a backup plan than to be a pale one. Besides you have skills I think should be made known now that you are king and have found your mate. You could handle this dragon sorceress.”
What skills did he hide? And why did they need a backup plan? They honestly thought she’d still refuse to marry him if she couldn’t find a way. That was the one thing that could force her into marriage with Thane. She’d be his wife before she was a pale one.
“And you’re sure your father is dead?”
“He must be,” Thane said.
“But did you see it? See him die with your own eyes?”
Silence. Layala leaned in a little closer and the wood creaked beneath her feet. She swore, no sense in lingering now, and pushed the door open.
“Ah, there she is.” Vesstan pushed himself up and stood. “Did you have any trouble?”
“No trouble.” She handed him the glass then looked to Thane. “So, there’s a chance your father is alive.”
