A Threat of Shadows (45 page)

Ayda continued softly. “I can feel her mind. She’s not really awake, and she can’t move, but she’s not sleeping, either. She knows she’s been alone and she knows that now you are back.”

Alaric shrank back in his chair. He looked at Evangeline’s face, smooth and peaceful. She knew she’d been alone? His hands begin to shake. He had left her alone for so very, very long. “Is she in pain?” he whispered.

Ayda was silent for a long moment. “Not in terrible pain.”

The breath rushed out of Alaric as guilt clenched inside of him. He had left her here alone and in pain.

“She’s happy you are here and she wants to see you,” Ayda said. “And then she wants to rest.”

Alaric slipped forward out of the chair and reached for her with trembling hands. “I’m so sorry.” He leaned his head against her forehead and felt the decision click into place. He couldn’t sacrifice himself for her. She would still die. He couldn’t sacrifice others for her. No matter what Kordan or Gustav thought, that wasn’t something you could calculate, the worth of one person versus another.

The Keepers had been right. This power to pull the life out of someone was not used for a reason. Not because of some antiquated rule, just because the shifting about of people’s lives couldn’t be done with a clear conscience. It couldn’t be done well.

Alaric was tired of not doing things well.

He was tired of feeling angry toward the world, toward the Keepers. Tired of distancing himself from a way of life that he had loved and respected. Tired of living in a desperate world of questionable actions. Tired of fighting against the truth that there were some sicknesses that couldn’t be healed.

He wanted the truth back.

And the truth was she was awake and she was dying.

This had gone on far too long.

He nodded at Ayda. “How long can you keep her from feeling the pain?”

Ayda looked at him for a long moment. “For as long as she needs it.”

Alaric felt tears start to fill his eyes and he nodded. “Thank you.” His gaze dropped back down to Evangeline’s fingertips. “It won’t be long.”

Ayda nodded and picked up Evangeline’s hand.

Alaric looked at the ruby. The red light swirled slowly through the stone and it pulsed, slightly warm in his hand. Every breath or two, a swirl of darkness touched one of the irregular surfaces.

He leaned and focused on the thin lines that he could just see on her neck. He began to read them quietly. The runes at her neck glowed a dim blue.

The first words were rough, but as he continued, focusing all of his attention on the thin runes, his voice strengthened and the glow on the tiny lines began to fade.

He narrowed his focus, just concentrating on each line in her skin. He spoke until it faded, releasing the power held there, then he moved on to the next. One by one, moving slowly along the faint path, releasing branches that snaked off, releasing the ones that protected her heart, releasing the ones protecting her mind, releasing the lines that protected her life.

Energy trickled out of his hand, so little needed to end what had cost him so much energy to build.

When the last line faded, he stopped. Nothing had changed. The ruby still swirled slowly. Evangeline lay still, but now he could feel her body living.

Alaric set the ruby on her stomach. Reaching toward the ruby, feeling the energy that spun through it, he began the process of pulling it out and letting it fall back into Evangeline’s body.

It happened more quickly than he expected, the amount of
vitalle
in the ruby was so much less than it had originally been. In the span of a few breaths, the ruby sat dark and cold. He moved it off to the side, then set his hand on Evangeline’s forehead.

“
Excita,
” he said gently, feeling the rush of energy flow out of his palm.

Evangeline gasped a weak, shallow breath. Her body twitched and her brow drew down in pain.

Alaric heard a strangled noise and realized it was his own breath. He grabbed for her hand and leaned over her. Her fingers were ice cold. Evangeline’s body began to thrash, her head tossing from side to side, her back arching.

Alaric remembered. He remembered the pain she had endured. He remembered how inadequate his skills had been to give her comfort. He remembered knowing she was going to die. And he remembered the terror of that idea.

Then Evangeline’s body relaxed. She breathed heavily, for a few breaths, but even that began to calm. Alaric looked at Ayda. She was using both hands to hold onto Evangeline’s. The elf’s eyes were shut, her brow drawn slightly.

A small sigh escaped Evangeline’s mouth, and Alaric whipped his attention back to her.

Her eyes were open and looking at him.

He felt his breath catch in his throat and he leaned close to her.

“I’ve missed you,” she whispered.

Alaric reached out and brushed her hair back from her face, bringing his forehead down on hers. She closed her eyes and smiled.

Alaric pulled back, unable to take his eyes off her, but unable to speak. He wanted to apologize, to tell her how much he loved her, but he could barely breathe. He just gripped her hand and stared at her face. She looked so peaceful, so normal. Her cheeks had regained some color and her eyes were bright.

Evangeline looked at Ayda, and Alaric opened his mouth, but no words came out.

Ayda, whose face was pale and drawn, gave a little snort. “I’m Ayda,” she said. “I’ve been traveling with your husband for a bit. Fighting dragons, saving the world, things like that.”

Evangeline gave a weak smile. “That’s the sort of thing he does.” She looked down at her hand encased in the elf’s small hands. “You’re pulling the pain back, aren’t you?”

Ayda gave her a tight, tired smile.

“Thank you,” Evangeline whispered.

Alaric stared at her for a moment. She looked so healthy. He hadn’t seen her look so healthy in… so very long. He barely remembered that her skin was always a little golden. It had been pale and waxy for so long.

“Evangeline,” Alaric said, his voice barely audible, “we don’t have much time.” His hands gripped her so hard that he had begun to drive away some of the coldness. “I’m so very, very sorry. I couldn’t…” He found himself floundering. “I found the antidote. But it’s not enough. I’m so sorry.” He reached for her face. “I’ve missed you every second.”

“And I you,” she said, her voice growing a little stronger. She looked at him with those clear eyes and smiled. “It wasn’t your job to stop death, Alaric. Even great Keepers can’t do that.”

“They should be able to,” he whispered.

“I’m glad I met you, Alaric,” she said softly. “And I’m glad you will soon be free of”—she looked down at herself—”of this burden. You should have more of a life than this.”

“He saved the world just yesterday,” Ayda said. “Fought a great wizard and defeated Mallon.”

Evangeline raised one eyebrow. “Not to take away from your victory, but wasn’t Mallon already dead?”

“Mostly,” Alaric said, smiling slightly.

“Well,” Evangeline said, “it’s been a long time since you’ve done Keeper things. You should ease back into it. Maybe you can work your way up to fighting someone who is fully alive.”

Evangeline’s eyebrows drew down suddenly, and she looked over at the hand Ayda was holding.

“Whatever you’re doing,” she said to the elf, “it’s working. I feel… wonderful.”

Ayda smiled again, but her face was pale.

A noise near the door caught Alaric’s attention. Brandson and Douglon were standing against the wall, looking as though they would like to sink into it. Milly had tears in her eyes.

Evangeline glanced at Alaric. “I think I could sit up.”

Alaric looked at her in surprise and noticed a strong pulse in her neck. He pulled up her hand and saw fingertips pink and healthy. Evangeline lifted her head, and Alaric quickly reached an arm behind her to help her sit.

Suddenly, there was a strangled yell and Douglon threw himself across the room.

The dwarf reached Ayda just as she toppled to the floor.

Chapter 56

Evangeline took a deep breath and stretched her hands. They looked healthy and strong. Alaric reached down quickly to see where the arrow had pierced her. Instead of the scabbed, swollen, black thigh he had seen for the past year, he saw smooth, clean skin with a small scar sitting right above the knee.

“Ayda!” he breathed, turning toward the elf. “How?”

Ayda lay in Douglon’s arms, her face white, barely breathing.

“What have you done?” Alaric demanded.

Ayda smiled weakly.

Douglon’s arms gripped her tighter. “You stupid elf,” he whispered. “You stupid, stupid, stupid elf.”

Evangeline was sitting steadily so Alaric pulled his arm away from her and knelt next to Ayda.

“It turns out,” Ayda said, “that there is someone who had enough life in her to heal your wife.”

He reached out and took Ayda’s hand, which was ice cold. Her fingers were snowy white.

“Oh, Ayda,” he says quietly, “you didn’t.”

She smiled weakly at him. “You were willing to sacrifice yourself. Is it so strange that I should do the same? You know, sometimes people break away from wallowing in their pasts long enough to commit to something.”

“But… you’re the last elf.”

“What better reason is there?”

“You sacrificed all your people, too?”

“My people agreed to die eight years ago. Their lives have not been their own since. I have needed them for many things. I needed them to hold back the darkness. I needed them to take that darkness and destroy Mallon. And now I needed them to heal Evangeline.”

“But…”

“I told you I wanted to sleep,” she said quietly.

A sob tore out of Douglon, and Ayda looked up at him. She reached up and lifted his chin a bit so that she could see his face. There were tears streaming down his cheeks. His eyes bored into the elf, and now it was Alaric who felt suddenly intrusive. But he didn’t want to move and break the moment.

“You stupid elf,” Douglon said.

“You can stop looking at me like that, Douglon. It’s just a charm,” Ayda said. “Just a charm to burn off some of this power.”

She looked around the room again, her brow puckered slightly with guilt. “I had too much power. It kept leaking out.” A short giggle escaped her, sounding bitter. “I kept dropping little flames without knowing it. I was afraid I was going to burn down the world.”

She looked back at Douglon and continued, an edge of self-loathing in her voice, “So I created a charm that worked constantly. A small, steady stream of power that would trickle out in the hopes that the destructive things would stop. Now animals like me, trees talk to me constantly, and even dwarves can set aside their disgust for us a bit.”

“So you can stop looking like that Douglon. What you’re feeling is just the charm. When I’m gone, the feelings will be, too.”

Douglon had looked at her steadily the whole time she had been speaking, not moving. Alaric searched his face for some sign of his thoughts, but the dwarf just stared at Ayda with that burning intensity that made Alaric feel intrusive again.

“It’s not a charm,” Douglon said finally. His words were so quiet that Alaric found himself leaning forward. “I know about the charm. Everyone knows about the charm.”

Ayda turned her head quickly around the room. Brandson nodded slightly. Milly shrugged and looked apologetic. When Ayda turned toward Alaric, he smiled slightly.

“Well,” she said petulantly, “just knowing about it doesn’t keep it from working.”

“It’s not working now.” Douglon had not looked away from her face.

Ayda’s eyes snapped back to him.

“It hasn’t worked since you destroyed Mallon.”

Alaric shifted slightly. That could be true. Ayda had been much less sparkly since then.

“The charm wanted me to think your eyes were darker and your hair glittered more than it does.” He ran one dark hand across the golden curl that spilled over her shoulder. “And that you were taller than you really are.”

She let out a small laugh. “I’m short, you know. For an elf.”

Douglon let a small smile curl up the corner of his mouth. “Dwarves aren’t particularly attracted to height,” he pointed out. “It only works when you are around. I never think of you as tall when you are too far away.”

“See?” she said, reaching her hand up tentatively to touch his beard.

Douglon stared at her a long moment. “The charm would make me want you to stay because I would think the room a gloomier place once you leave. But what do you think it is that makes me know now that the room really will be gloomy with you gone?”

Douglon reached up and pressed her hand against his cheek. Ayda’s eyes widened slightly.

“What do you think it is that helps me to know that I love the real color of your hair, not that awful glittery nonsense you try to make me
think
you have?”