Lark (12 page)

             
Duke Finnegan is mildly attractive with dark hair and pale blue eyes. He can’t really hold a candle to Grey, but of course, who can? I think his name is kind of fun to say. His lovely wife Isobel has waist length chocolate brown hair and is so beautiful that it hurts to look at her for very long, but I find myself staring at her anyway. At first glance, she looks like she is in her early twenties, but her sea green eyes betray her true age. No twenty-year old would ever have such wise looking eyes. 

I feel much more comfortable in my silk dress as I take in the attire of the elves. They aren't exactly dressed super modernly, but definitely not what I was expecting. For some reason I was envisioning something more along the lines of sweater vests, suspenders, and pointy shoes with bells. The pointy ears are stereotypically elf-like, but the Light Elves are definitely not the little people I always imagined elves to be. They aren't really tall, but they are also not what I would consider to be short. They have a more slender build than that of a human. I would imagine that unless you are aware of these subtle differences, you would be hard-pressed to pick the elves from the humans in a group. They are obviously capable of blending in well with humans. Grey certainly fooled me.

              The women look stunning in light and elegant long flowing dresses, with bell sleeves in soft pastel colors. The men are all dressed in varying shades of brown and charcoal pants with long sleeved tunic-like linen shirts. The only real distinguishing article of clothing among the men is the silvery-blue robe that Alberico wears. And of course his crown, which looks to be made of an intricate weaving of silver and gold adorned with garnets. The men and women all have long hair, but nobody makes an attempt to disguise their pointy ears here.

             
“Did you sleep well? Was your room comfortable enough?” Alberico asks me.

             
“Yes, thank you,” I reply formally. I’m not sure how I’m supposed to address him. 'Father' seems weird since not only do I not really know him yet, but also because he looks so young, much too young to be my father even though I now know it is true. So do I refer to him as “Your Majesty”? What are the rules? I'll have to ask Grey about that later.

             
“I wasn't quite sure what you would prefer, so I contacted Anneliese to decorate it to your tastes. She will return early next week to discuss some designs with you. I do want you to feel at home here.”

             
“Thank you, but that isn't really necessary. The room is beautiful as it is. Besides, it's not like I will be here much longer.” This statement earns some whispers among his council, but Alberico hardly seems to notice, and he just continues on as if I hadn't said a word.             

 
              “Meanwhile, Grey tells me that he would like to assist you in getting a better grasp of your abilities. I feel it would be best if you started immediately, but I would also like you to have the chance to become accustomed to your new surroundings. For you to become familiar with Álfheimr is my greatest wish.” He takes a drink from his silver goblet.

             
“Is it true that you possess healing magic?” one of the male elves seated a few chairs down from me asks.

             
“Um, yes? I mean, I guess so,” I stammer. I am startled by the murmurs that suddenly erupt among the elves at the table. I distinctly hear the word “prophecy” several times before Alberico stands up and slams his fist on the table.

             
“QUIET!” Alberico commands fiercely. “She is my daughter and therefore a guest of honor deserving of your respect.” 

             
The crowd quiets down, but the wary looks remain and I am uncomfortable with all the attention.

              “Perhaps after breakfast Greyson can give you a tour of the kingdom and answer any other questions you may have. Then we will see where to go from there,” Alberico continues kindly, as if he hadn't just commanded the entire room in true kingly fashion. He gives me a small smile as he gently squeezes my hand.

             
It doesn't seem like he was really giving me a choice, and after witnessing just how powerful Alberico can be, I don't object. Besides, after seeing what little of the castle I did this morning, I’m now burning with curiosity as to what the rest of the kingdom is like. So I nod my consent and try to focus on enjoying the most succulent breakfast I have ever eaten in my life. In the back of my mind, I can’t help but wonder if I will eat my usual chocolate covered chocolate chip granola bar in my mom's kitchen ever again.

Chapter 8

             
The charming village surrounding the castle grounds is like something out of a Disney movie. Little cottages dot the landscape, blending in serenely with the gray mountains, crystal clear waterfalls, and lush forest that make up the land of Álfheimr. Alberico's castle is surrounded by fragrant greenery, and the immaculate flower gardens are filled with exotic flowers, some familiar, others foreign, but all equally breathtaking. The roses are my favorite. The blooms are bigger than any I’ve ever seen and the color more vibrant than I thought possible.  Everything is so bright and warm; very different from the blizzard currently taking place in Kansas right about now. I’m thankful I was allowed to change into a gauzy light blue sundress with flats before my grand tour. There’s no way I’d have enjoyed walking the beautiful cobble stone paths nearly as much in those fancy heels I wore to breakfast.

             
“What do you think?” Greyson asks me as we make our way back to the castle grounds. Instead of the usual messenger bag he uses for school he has an old beat up looking tan backpack hanging casually off of one shoulder. It looks like something you would take camping. He seems more relaxed here than I have ever seen him.

             
“It's the most remarkable place I have ever seen. Everything is so beautiful and picturesque. It's like a dream.”

I’m honestly at a loss for words to describe the perfection of it all. The peacefulness makes it easy to forget the circumstances that brought me to this beautiful place.

              “Grey? Yesterday, after the accident, you mentioned the name Dugan and something about his spies. Then last night Alberico said that the Dökkálfar spies would try to kidnap me, but he never explained what any of that meant...” I trail off, trying to put the pieces of the puzzle together in a way that I can understand.

             
Grey stops walking and looks around. He grabs my hand and leads me off into one of the garden labyrinths dotted with yellow roses. He walks quickly, pulling me behind him until we are so deep within the walls that I can no longer hear the bustling noises from the little town. It's darker in here. The walls are high and the paths are narrow, but instead of feeling claustrophobic, I feel safe; like the green leaf walls are protecting me. It's rather calming.

             
“Dugan is the King of the Dökkálfar--he is Alberico's twin brother.”

“My uncle?”

Grey nods.

I blow a gust of air out of my mouth trying to come to terms with the fact that I have this whole other family that I never knew about. My seemingly normal life is apparently not as ordinary as I thought.

“Does he live in Álfheimr too?”

              “No,” he pauses momentarily, as though he is trying to come up with the best way to tell me something unpleasant. “You see, he is quite powerful. He is rumored to be more powerful than Alberico, but Alberico is technically the oldest, and by far more amiable, so he was the favored heir and inherited the kingdom. It caused a lot of turmoil because, at the time, Dugan had many followers who felt he should inherit the throne instead. They felt so strongly that Dugan was the true heir that our kingdom was divided in half.”

             
“The Light Elves and the Dark Elves?” I guess. Grey nods his head.

             
“Did Alberico tell you the reason he left your mother when he did?” He asks me as he tucks a wayward strand of hair behind my ear.

             
“He only said that his father told him he had to, so he did for the good of the kingdom. But no, he didn't elaborate.” I find myself getting a little upset that Alberico withheld information.

             
“Your father and I have been friends for a really long time, longer than you can even imagine. I really shouldn’t tell you anything. Alberico doesn't want you to know yet. He doesn't think it will do any good, but I disagree. I think not knowing would be worse. Don't you think?”

             
I nod my head and feel my heart start to pound in my chest.

             
“Alberico did leave your mother because his father ordered him to, but there is more to it than the reason he gave you. He was fearful of a prophecy made shortly before the end of the Light and Dark war.”

             
Of course there has to be a prophecy thrown into the mix. Holy smokes. I pinch myself just to make sure I am not in some elaborate dream.

             
Ouch.

             
Yeah, definitely real life.

             
“The prophecy didn't make much sense when it was first told, but after the Dökkálfar were cursed to the Underworld, the first few lines of the prophecy became quite ominous.” He pauses and then recites from memory:

A Half-blood child of a Sovereign One

Hidden in the Shadows until the time is right

Can heal the Cursed of their Underground prison

Then once more they will walk among the Light.

             
“It had been frowned upon for many years for any elf to engage in intimate relations with a human. It's hard to maintain our discretion if we get too close to one. This, of course, had consequences of its own. Several Light Elves in the last few centuries have left the kingdom to be with the humans they loved. We don't usually hear from them again. Following the war though, it was most pertinent, especially for the elves of noble blood, to maintain the separation from the humans if we were going to prevent the prophecy from being fulfilled. Dugan, of course, would love nothing better than to see it done.”

             
“But what does that have to do with the prophecy?”

“When the curse fell on the Dark Elves that imprisoned them in the Underworld, it made it impossible for a Dark Elf to be exposed to daylight. This curse supposedly causes the Dark Elves to suffer an extreme aversion to sunlight, which keeps them restricted to being creatures of the dark.”

              Sounds more like vampires than elves to me.

             
You know, without the whole drinking blood part.

“Can they come above ground at night?” I ask fearfully.

              “It is possible. However only during a new moon when the earth is the darkest.” He pauses thoughtfully.

              Maybe all those horror stories about monsters of the night aren’t so far off after all.

             
“What exactly happens to them if they come above ground?”             

“There are a few different theories, the most common being…..Well, what can I compare it to that would make it easy to understand?” Grey asks himself. He contemplates for a moment. “It's almost like they are allergic to it. It causes them to be so ill they can't pull the magic from the elements and therefore, it makes them weak. While they are weak, they are vulnerable.”

              “So the Dark Elves can't come above ground during the day because it basically makes them sick?”

             
“Essentially.”

             
“And I have healing magic.”

             
“Yes.”

             
“Is this 'sun allergy', by chance, something that I could heal?” The thought scares me.

             
“This ‘sun allergy’ is just a theory. We don’t know for sure what happens to them. But according to some translations of the prophecy, it would appear to be a possibility.” He sighs deeply before continuing, “Dugan and his followers have been hunting down Half-bloods for years, trying to find the one who is able to break the curse. Now that he has been informed that you are not only a Half-blood but the daughter of Alberico, he will increase his efforts to claim you. Especially now that he knows you are a healer, since many believe it will take a healer to cure the Dökkálfar of their curse. If they are allowed to roam freely again, that would not bode well for humankind.” He pauses for a moment to let it all sink in.

             
“Holy smokes.”

             
“Yes. Holy smokes,” he mimics me, and the words sound comical coming from his velvet voice. I crack a smile before it hits me that I should probably be frightened that a powerful Dark Elf is out to get me.

             
“So what does Dugan want with me?”

             
“You are a Half-blood child of a Sovereign one and you possess healing abilities,” he states the obvious.