Bound to the Elvin King (44 page)

“He is, and I think at this point, he has no choice in his actions.”

“We always have a choice.”

“Sometimes not viable ones that would preserve our life.”

“Death would be better than to resort to treason.”

“It’s not that simple, and you know it.”

He turned his back on her. “You may leave now. But stay within the palace. We are
not
done with this conversation.”

“As you wish.” After a few seconds, her voice floated across to him from near the door. “I do hope you find Lady Margaret safe and unharmed.”

A bitter bark of laughter burst from his throat. “You should start praying we find her alive and well. And don’t call her Lady Margaret. She’s your queen, so address her by her proper title.”

“Yes, your majesty.”

At the sound of the door closing, he stumbled to a chair, his chest on fire. With a gasp, Talion fell into the seat and squeezed his burning eyes shut. This feeling of self-destructing—of falling to pieces, mind and body—had to end soon…one way or another. He couldn’t bear it much longer.

When Alalise had told him of her actions, the pain gripping his heart had redoubled. Was that the bond’s way of ripping him out of his despair or driving him deeper into it? He didn’t know that answer and prayed he would never have to find it out.

Running a hand over his forehead, he sighed. He didn’t have the luxury to sit and rest. Maggie’s rescue was tonight. Plans had to be finalized, and with Centvion three hours away, the time to move would come all too soon. Plus, he had to impart the news that his brother was somehow involved in all this.

Talion pushed himself from the chair with more force than he thought he had at the moment. He smiled grimly. Now if he could only harness that energy and channel it into beating the life out of Eamon later. As for Andrian, Talion would need to discover the nature of his involvement with Eamon before he passed judgment on him, though being darkindred was damning enough.

Still, Talion had never been able to bring himself to kill Andrian, but times changed. If Andrian hurt Maggie in any way, his former brother would find no mercy from him.

Chapter 23

Maggie stared at the closed door, fearing Eamon would make an appearance at anytime. While she’d regained full control of her muscles, she knew she could never win a physical fight against him. And Andrian was still a mystery to her, so she couldn’t be sure if he’d stand up for her again.

A little huff of nervousness escaped from her lips. She couldn’t watch the door any longer. It made her paranoid. Hell, being locked up in the room was turning her into a basket case.

She reclined back on the bed, and a zap of pain speared her chest, replacing the heaviness that had lingered there ever since she woke up in this place. This newest sensation was too familiar to be coincidence. It had to be the bond at work, and it wasn’t happy—that was for sure. She rubbed the area to try and soothe the ache away. If the bond was doing this to her, how was it affecting Talion? Since he was elfkind, the bond seemed to hold greater sway over him.

A flash of white tore her out of her thoughts. She squinted against the darkness of the softly glinting black stone that was her prison. Where had that streak of white gone, or was she going nuts?

A meow ripped through the silence of the room. Maggie jumped from the bed and spun around. Her heart drummed in her ears as she scanned the room. Where had that sound come from?

Something brushed against her gown. She gave a startled yelp. A black and white cat, with a faceted crystal hanging from an orange collar, stared at her with intelligent yellow eyes. Recognition flooded Maggie’s mind. This was the cat from the gardens. But how? Maggie snorted. She was asking how when she was stuck in a land of elves?

“What are you doing here, little guy?” She reached down to pet the cat.

“I’m here to talk with you, young one.”

Maggie gasped and fell back on her butt with a thud. What the hell? A talking cat?

A soft feminine laugh came from the cat’s tiny mouth. Maggie shook her head, opening and closing her eyes to see if the reality staring back at her changed. It didn’t, and that could only mean one thing. She was delusional.

“I see the disbelief on your face. Worry not, I take many shapes and forms.”

“Who are you?” Maggie whispered.

The cat shrugged its shoulders, the action so humanlike that Maggie almost giggled out loud at the ridiculousness of it. With shaky legs, Maggie clambered to her feet.

“I’m a manifestation of the veil.”

The veil? The thing that was the cause of so many of Eria’s problems—and the reason for her being bonded to Talion? Maggie crossed her arms and glowered at the cat. “How come no one’s ever mentioned this?”

“For all their wisdom, there is much the elves don’t know.

A shimmering mist formed around the cat, and the animal’s shape slowly morphed into one that resembled a human’s. Once the veil—for that was what it had to be—disappeared, an old woman stood before her. Her silvery-white hair and lightly lined face tugged at Maggie’s memory, as did the lady’s colorful shirt and skirt. Then the connection snapped into place like a missing puzzle piece.

Maggie pointed an accusing finger at her, though she didn’t really know what the woman was guilty of other than impersonating a human shop owner. “You’re the lady from that New Age shop—Mists of Avalon. The same lady who went all cryptic on Cal when she went there to research myths.”

“The one and the same. In this form I’m known as Aistiane.”

Maggie nodded slowly, worrying her bottom lip. Aistiane’s eyes were different, though. Hadn’t they always been blue whenever Maggie saw her in the store? Now they were a startling yellow, just as they had been in her feline form. “Why are your eyes not blue?”

Aistiane smiled, showing even, white teeth. “I wear contacts while on Earth to hide the true color of my eyes. They’re quite yellow, which I believe would distress many of your people.”

Maggie understood her reasoning, but her mind still remained stuck on one nagging question. Though why the hell she was so obsessed with this one point, she didn’t know. “But why are your eyes yellow if you’re part of the veil? Can’t you change them to whatever color you want? Or if you don’t have that power, why aren’t they tinsel silver like the veil in mist form?”

“The veil’s innate magic has a yellow aura, so that is reflected in my eye color.”

“Aura?” Maggie was lost with all this talk of metaphysical things.

Aistiane moved her hands fluidly as she spoke, and the gem-encrusted bangles on her wrists jingled. “The veil may look silvery white, but its true energy is yellow. Underneath the mist, there’s a core of yellow energy, though most don’t see it since it’s often the size of a tiny pinprick. The color of my eyes is determined by the energy that created me.”

“Uh, okay
.” Guess it’s time to change subjects.
After all, part of the veil stood before her, so there had to be more important things than eye color to discuss.

But as she dismissed their line of conversation, a realization struck. Hey, weren’t the darkindreds’ eyes yellow? Though she’d love to say it was coincidence, nothing seemed to be so since her arrival in Eria. “The darkindred have eyes like yours.”

A slow grin spread over the woman’s face. “Yes, they do. Very astute of you to notice.”

Maggie’s mind spun sluggishly as she tried to make a possible connection between these two new facts. Surely, they were related but how? “So how do those facts correlate to each other?”

“Why don’t you tell me what your theories are?” Aistiane asked, watching her intently.

A moment of panic hit Maggie. Who said she had any theories? The lady gave her way too much credit. Right now, Maggie felt like the dumb kid in class. So she stuck with what she knew—what others had told her. “The elves think the darkindred have something to do with the loss of Eria’s magic, so I guess it could have something to do with that.”

“In some ways the darkindred do have a direct correlation to the declining magic, but it’s not quite as simple as the elves believe. The darkindred are as much the veil’s wards as the elves.”

“W...what?”

“You’re a true match for King Talion, so I know you’ll use your head and figure it out.”

God, was this some kind of test? If so, she was so screwed. Maggie inhaled deeply in an effort to calm her frayed nerves. “So you’re saying the veil loves the darkindred just as much as the elves—and even seeks to protect them?”

“I think that’s a fair assertion.”

Disbelief pounded throughout Maggie’s body, and she shook her head. “But the darkindred and elves are at war with each other.”

“Do they need to be?”

What kind of question was that, and how the hell did she answer it? “I don’t know. Yes. Maybe?”

“If you find out the true reason why the darkindred fight, you’ll have the answer.”

Aistiane was kidding, right? And why couldn’t she just tell her if she knew? Anyway, how could Maggie find anything out when the elves had no success with it? Something prickled at her consciousness. Suddenly, the fact that she knew about Eamon’s involvement with the darkindred, not to mention Andrian’s accusation about Eamon holding some kind of power over him and his people, stood stark in her mind. Their words had given her some insight into the situation. Not a lot, true, but enough to glean that the story wasn’t as cut and dried as the elves believed.

She slumped onto the bed, exhausted and frustrated. Grr, the whole situation was enough to drive a girl crazy, and if she were wise, she would keep her nose where it belonged—on her face and not in feuds far older than she was. But she was also queen, albeit a reluctant one, so didn’t she owe it to her new people to find out what she could?

Yeah, right. She’d get herself killed before Talion even arrived if she snooped. “I’m sure I’ll be able to figure out all the darkindred’s secrets and alert the elves of them before Eamon kills me,” Maggie said, her voice sarcastic.

Aistiane merely raised her brows in a good-natured way. “Who knows? You might. After all, you’ve been privy to a conversation between Eamon and Andrian. Surely, that was revealing.”

At the woman’s words, Maggie jumped a little. Was Aistiane a mind reader? Given the slight smirk on her face, Maggie would guess yes. That, or Maggie’s face displayed every stupid emotion she felt, like Talion had said. Either possibility was equally upsetting. Screw Eria and its inhabitants—and its magic. Maggie would be damned if she’d show how off-kilter she was. “Conversation? Ha, it was more like an altercation.”

“And a beautiful one at that.”

Beautiful? Maggie didn’t know if she’d call it that, but it had been a sight. “Their fight was…informative.”

Aistiane’s lips tightened before she spoke. “I seem harsh? Maybe so, but Eamon has much to answer for, so I find much enjoyment when someone takes him down a peg or two. Unfortunately, it’s never enough to remove him as the nuisance he continues to be. But his time will come. The darkindred were to be special messengers, but he ruined that with the palm of his hand, so I had to venture to Earth to—” She cut off her words as if realizing she said too much.

Instead, she bent down and grabbed Maggie’s hands and held them in hers, leaving Maggie with no time to ponder her previous words. “My time here draws short, and I still have much to relay to you. You must stay strong against Eamon and work with Talion so you both can escape with your lives.”

As the warmth of the woman’s skin sank into Maggie’s, a spark of hope lit within her heart. “So it’s possible we’ll both make it out alive?”

“Anything’s possible with enough hope, faith, and love, child.” She released Maggie’s hands.

Normally such sappy words would make Maggie scoff, but right now they were what she needed to hear. “I hope you’re right, but I don’t think Talion is going to be able to save the day single-handedly.”

“It won’t be easy, but you must succeed if both the elvin and human worlds are to be saved.”

Maggie scrubbed her palms over her face as if trying to wipe away the words Aistiane just uttered. Save the worlds? Wasn’t that Cal and Relian’s job, because of what the prophecy said? But then, Maggie hadn’t really thought about it applying to her and Talion, too. Even if they were involved, though, the prophecy couldn’t rest on their shoulders alone. “There’s still Cal and Relian.”

“They will offer up much to the effort, but by themselves alone, they are not enough. If Eria and Earth are to be brought into a new age, you and Talion need to help bring it to fruition.”

Maggie would be instrumental in bringing something to fruition? Sure, she could buy that of Talion, but for herself? Yeah, right. “If we ever get out of this alive, I don’t see starting anything with him but a fight.”

Aistiane’s lips quirked. “Be that as it may, you both have your parts to play, as do many others in the future.”

“Okay…what?” As Maggie processed the last part of Aistiane’s sentence, confusion gripped her at this latest cryptic clue.

“You and Calantha are just the beginning.”

Maggie narrowed her eyes and stared at the woman, hoping her don’t-shit-with-me look was working. All these riddles and clues were pissing her off, damn it. “The beginning of what?”