Duality (17 page)

Bone-melting kisses, baths, sleeping together… She elbowed him. “Well, since he knows all about me, seems only fair I know all about him.”

Hani`ena stopped.
“Tell her or I shalt.”

Dara nearly fell off. The voice in her mind was strident, with militant overtones. “I can hear her?”

“Her choice, not mine. Dara, my father is a political figure. The position is not elected. Deane shall inherit when Father retires.”

Dara went very still. “You’re talking nobility.”

“Higher,”
Hani`ena said with a darkly gleeful undertone.

Dara’s body went ice-cold.
“Royalty
?” she squawked aloud.

“Aye, and nay. My father is king. Deane is heir.” Loren spoke quickly. “That has naught to do with me or Brannan. The title ‘Lady’s champion’ holds more power and prestige than ‘second son of Cedric’.”

“High King Cedric ta Pari ta Lir,”
Hani`ena clarified in a most oh-so-helpful tone.

“Why does that name sound familiar?” Dara’s eyes widened. “Your grandfather wasn’t named
for
that king Grandmother Lena met. He
is
that bloody king.”

“Father has been king longer than you have been alive. Five hundred years.”

Blood roared in Dara’s ears. “How old are you, Loren?”

“Three—”

“Centuries?”
The edges of her mind blurred.

“Do not faint. You ask, you had best be prepared to handle the answer. We do not lie.”

Dara glanced down at Moira’s second set of dress-plaids. “You lied to me.”

“Not precisely.”

“Omission is still a type of lie,” she snapped, rubbing her hands up and down her arms. “What will they think of me?” Lord and Lady, royalty
and
immortality. Her stomach roiled.

“They shall be happy to meet you and my father shall thank you for saving my life.”

“We should get going. Camping is fine. For squirrels.”
Hani`ena broke into a canter and emerged from the tunnel into a land such as Dara had never seen. A golden cast settled over everything. There were trees bigger than she had ever imagined, both leafed and evergreens, ferns as big as Hani`ena, butterflies in vivid colors that made her squint. Birds sang, insects flitted about, and in the distance was a grassy hill full of flowers she smelled even this far away.

Dara fought nausea. What was she doing in this place? A nameless, homeless orphan so far removed from royalty and immortality—

“Okay, stop the self pity right there. You are a warrior by your own declaration. For Goddess’ sake start acting like one.”

Dara glanced at Loren. He stared straight ahead.

“He cannot hear me this time. Just you.”

“Can you hear me?”

“With a lot less effort than you are using now. Just think at me like you were thinking aloud.”
Hani`ena paused.
“You are easier to speak to than I expected. You at least can focus.”

“We shall be able to see Poshnari-Unai, the capitol city, within the hour,” Loren stated.

“Wonderful. What’s it like?”

“I didn’t know I could mind-speak.”

Hani`ena snorted.
“Do not flatter yourself, youngling. I am doing all the work.”

“Cymry Hall stands atop a hill in the center. You shall love my cousin Sirona’s gardens. Granna Lorelei has ponds and fountains and little waterfalls. It is a beautiful place for escape. The baths and spas are famous throughout the land.”

Dara slumped, then regrouped. “Sounds like paradise.”

He shook his head. “Nay, not paradise. Just home.”

Her spine stiffened. “
Why speak to me now, horse?”

“Better. Because you shalt need an ally. Not all shalt welcome your presence here. Lorelei and Pari, however, shalt adore you. They are surprisingly emotional. Most are very understated and composed.”

Understated and composed. Dara grimaced.
“Sounds like I’ll fit right in.”

“Cedric is very dignified but wise and fair. Losing Ayala and Markale has taken much from his spirit, and he is a worrier by nature, but he has everyone’s best interests in mind at all times.”

“How did they die?”

“Markale was the youngest and Ayala’s favorite son. A warrior like Loren, but more eager and less skilled than his older brother. He and his war mare Ainakea were killed by trolls in a skirmish at Enoka Pass. Ayala was a gentle soul. No spine. She just gave up on the rest of the family and faded away.”
Hani`ena paused.
“Elves can grieve themselves into mortality and will themselves out of existence.”

Trolls? Dara paused to consider.
“Immortality must become a heavy burden after a time
.
”

“Indeed. Astute of you to get past the obvious.”

“Tell me about your brothers. What are they like?”

“Brannan likes to use words no one understands just to show off but he is a good sort. Deane is the future king and stands very much on ceremony and protocol.”

“Who’s your best friend after Hani`ena? Who’d you get into trouble with growing up?”

Loren grinned. “Cianan ta Daneal. We stole snow-apples from the temple orchard and slid down the palace railings. We hung Sirona’s pantaloons from the bell tower. He went to the academy with me and is now archery instructor. I do not know if I should introduce you. He is quite the ladies’ man.”

“Cianan is a harmless flirt. Deane you must watch. He ever wants what Loren has. Beware.”

“What about you, Dara? Who was your best friend?”

Dara rode in silence, unable to answer. How to describe growing up with secrets and forbidden knowledge, abilities and training? Her disaffinity for animals prevented having a pet. Her parents were her instructors and the villagers thought of her as but useful. “I was too busy for friends.”

Loren looked at her for a long moment. “Sirona would love a friend with whom to share new ideas and adventures. She is not circumspect either and is often at odds with those around her.”

Sounded like any family. Loren’s vow returned to her, but Dara wondered whether she was ally or captive.

They crested the hill, and Hani`ena stopped to let her take it in. Poshnari-Unai, the capitol city of the eastdawn elves. Once, her grandmother stood here, Dara shivered. What family secrets would she discover from Pari ta Lir? The city gleamed white and gold in the sunlight, rising tiers of walls and buildings and colored banners fluttering in the breeze. Its sheer size and beauty took her breath away. She stared at the biggest, highest building. Cymry Hall. Loren’s home. A royal palace.

The very thought made her ill all over again. She glanced back at Loren. Not a common warrior. A prince.

A liar.

Loren closed his eyes. He took in a long slow breath and held it, then exhaled. “We are home.”

“We are welcomed.”

Dara stared at the approaching cloud of dust. A white war mare and her rider galloped toward them.

Loren laughed and waved. “Cianan and Kikeona.”

Dara straightened and tried smoothing her rumpled wool skirts as the other warrior approached. Kikeona slid to a showy stop afore them and with a whoop Cianan clasped Loren’s forearm in greeting. “About time you arrived. The entire place has been in an uproar since we were told you would arrive today.” He stared at Loren’s appearance. “Are you well?”

Loren stiffened. “Well enough.”

“Lady’s champion.” Cianan shook his head. “Lord and Lady, I sense a tale there.”

Dara blinked at his unexpected appearance. She’d been under the mistaken impression all elves had light hair, but Cianan’s hair was long and black. His features were elf-cast, with slanted cobalt eyes lit with roguish good humor.

Cianan stared right back while Hani`ena and Kikeona touched noses. “You never told me the women outside our realm were so fair of form. Mayhaps I should venture out more often.”

Dara glared at him. “The women outside your realm are fairer of mind than form and can speak for themselves.”

“She speaks.” He clutched his heart.

“And knows which end of a blade to hold, so I would have your respect, sir.” Dara planted her fists against her hips.

Loren grinned. “She saved my life. The Boars would have had me for their fires.”

Cianan sobered. “My thanks,
vertenya
. He is my best friend. I would have mourned him and avenged his murder.”

“
Vertenya
is a very old word meaning Goddess-warrioress. What does that tell you of women warriors
?”

“That you are overdue for the next generation
.”

“Since he rescued me from those same fires I’d call us even.”

Cianan stared at them. “Life-debt?”

“Indeed.” Loren pulled her closer.

She fought the urge to relax against him. Lying prince. No wonder he acted so high-handed all the time—he was used to ordering people about. Well, he’d not order her.

“Ah, well. Good.” Cianan beamed approval at them.

What was she missing? Dara wondered.

“I want to get home.” Loren rubbed his hand up and down Dara’s arm. She wondered if he was even aware he was doing it, but was grateful for the comforting gesture all the same.

She frowned. She didn’t want to be comforted, or grateful. He’d lied to her and dragged her here against her will. All she wanted was to go home to her simple life. Fighting, healing—those things she understood. Royalty and immortality and magic? She wanted no part of that.

“Demons?”
Hani`ena added.

Dara wanted to kick something. Demons were out of her league. She knew she needed help, and Loren was right to bring in more aid, but she didn’t have to
like
it.

“It has been too long, and a hard road,” Loren stated.

“You have news?” Cianan asked.

“A demon escaped the abyss and subverts Arcadia as we speak. First Westmarche, now Riverhead.”

“As if that cursed One Truth was not enough.” Cianan struck his chest with a fist. “You shall have a time with the ministry, but I stand with you, brother.”

“My thanks.” Loren duplicated the gesture.

Both mares turned toward the city and started off at a showy trot, matching strides.

Dara grinned in spite of herself.
Showoffs
.

They entered the opened gates. The thick walls towered over them as they passed through. The war mares’ hooves rang as they struck the brick roadway. People stared as they passed, but a few children cheered and waved. Hani`ena arched her neck.

One daring little girl ran up with a bouquet of purple flowers. Kikeona stopped and knelt down so Cianan could lean over to receive the gift. He kissed the girl’s cheek, and she blushed bright crimson and fled. Cianan grinned as he straightened, and Kikeona rose to her full height.

Loren turned to his best friend. “Rather younger than your usual fan.”

“Easier to impress and much less demanding,” Cianan retorted. “Asides, I like flowers. She is a florist’s daughter, and they know me well at that shop.” He sniffed, then yelped.

“What?” Dara asked.

“A bee.”

Loren howled with laughter as they wound their way ever upward.

At the palace gateway, they were greeted by an older elf with ancient eyes on a scarred, greying war mare. “Lord Elio, it is good to see you again.” They clasped forearms in what Dara now recognized as a ritual warrior greeting. “My former weaponsmaster, and his war mare, Milisena,” he told Dara. “Lord Elio is Minister of Defense. Lord Elio, Dara Kahn Androcles from Hengist’s kingdom of Riverhead.”

“Welcome, child of man.” He did not sound welcoming.

Dara wasn’t sure of his tone, or the coolness of his gaze. “I thank you for your welcome, my lord.”

“Well, I am off for an all-night game of howgarth with the city guard,” Cianan said. “I shall see you both tomorrow.”

“Thou hast classes in the morning,” Lord Elio reminded him.

“So I do.” He grinned at Loren. “I think I had best have a drink or six too. Never face that lot with a clear head.” He waggled his eyebrows at Dara and kissed her hand with a flourish. “Farewell,
vertenya
. Save a dance for me.”

Loren laughed. “Get him out of here.”

“Gladly,” Lord Elio muttered. “I had best accompany him, make sure he stays out of trouble. A good night to thee both, lad. Come on, pup.” He led Cianan away.

Loren whispered in Dara’s ear, “We dismount and walk from here.” He nodded at the young elves in page livery, standing at attention. “They shall take Hani`ena to the stables. My family awaits us on the front steps.”

“Spine,
vertenya
.”

Dara slid to the ground and leaned against the mare for support. Loren dismounted and stood behind her with his hands on her shoulders. She straightened and motioned forward with one hand. “Lead on.”