Lark (9 page)

             
No joke. I feel like I have been hit by a truck. 

             
“I'm fine,” I say as normally as I can manage and try to position myself in a more dignified way.

             
“Are you sure?”

             
“No, not at all,” I reply as a nervous laugh escapes my lips. “But I want to know what happened. I need to know that I am not crazy. That everything that I think happened today, actually happened and why.”

             
He pauses for a minute longer, takes a deep breath, and begins.

             
“Okay, I will tell you everything. What you just witnessed, Brian's miraculous recovery, you did that.  Your touch healed him."

             
“Come again?”

             
“You healed him.”

             
“That's not possible.”

             
"Oh, it is.  The reason I know this is because...well," He pauses with a nervous sigh.  "Did you ever read that book I gave you?”

“The fairy tale history book?”

“Yes.”

“Um...no, I didn’t. I’m sorry. I meant to. I just couldn’t get into it and then you made me mad so I didn’t even want to look at it let alone open it and read it. But what does that old book have to do with what’s going on now?”

“It has everything to do with what is happening now. That wasn’t just a fairy tale book. It was our actual history.”

“Whose history?”
I ask him completely confused.

“Ours.
The Ljósálfar. I am a Light Elf."

             
Well, I didn't see that one coming.

             
“A Light Elf? Don't be ridiculous. There is no such—” But I don't finish my sentence because Grey has pushed his hair behind his left ear...his slightly pointy, very elf-like ear. How many hours have I spent staring at this boy in the last few months? How on earth did I miss that? I mean, those. I mean…holy smokes. That's why he gave me that stupid book!

             
Greyson St. Clair is a freaking elf. I feel my jaw drop.

             
“Yes. A Light Elf. I was sent to watch over you by your father, Alberico.”

             
The fact that Grey knows my father throws me off even more than the pointy ears that he has managed to keep hidden from me for all these months.

             
“My father? My real father? How do you know him? And what do you mean you were sent here to watch over me? Why? When? How long? My father? Are you sure? My mom said he just left and she never heard from him again. How is this possible?” It is too much.  I jolt out of bed and pace the room like a caged animal, trying to make sense of the information overload that has just upended my entire universe.

             
“Slow down. I promise you, I will tell you everything, but let's try one question at a time so I can actually give you an answer, shall we?”

             
“I’m sorry. This is just so overwhelming. And quite frankly, unbelievable, you know? You’re asking me to believe the impossible!  This is the sort of thing that would happen in one of my books, not in real-life!"

             
“Yes, I know it can be a little hard to understand. I'll try to explain everything the best that I can, but please, try to calm down.”

             
He waits to see if I’m going to freak out again, and when I don't, he continues. “Your father is the Light Elf King. We are actually in his castle in Álfheimr as we speak.”

             
“Wait a second. I’m in a castle?” I look around at my elegant surroundings.  There is a crystal chandelier hanging above the bed and the lush bedding looks and feels expensive.   The circular shape of the room leads me to believe that we may be in a tower. I rush to the window, throw back the thick, heavy curtains and gasp in shock at the sight before me. This room is in a tower, and there is a second tower on the opposite side of a massive stone palace.  Wow, I really am in a castle. An actual castle. “I thought this was some swanky hotel.”

             
“No, it is most certainly not 'some swanky hotel'. You are currently standing in one of the many guest rooms inside the finest castle ever built in the beautiful land of Álfheimr. I thought it would be best to give you a heads up in private before introducing you to your father.”

             
“Álfheimr? Not that my geographical knowledge is very extensive or anything, but I have never even heard of it.”

             
“No, I imagine you have not.” He hesitates as he searches for the right words. “You would be unable to find us on any man-made map, after all.”

             
“Are we in some sort of parallel universe or something?” I ask him, nervous that he might actually say yes. This is all completely unbelievable.

             
“That is not too far off from the truth. In actuality, Álfheimr is located in, well, what you would call Heaven.”

             
“Like, ‘in the sky above the earth’ Heaven? ‘God and angels’ Heaven?”

             
“’In the sky above the earth’ Heaven, yes. God and Angels, however, would be a different branch of cosmology altogether.”

             
“So there are elves but no angels?” I ask skeptically.

             
“I never said that,” he replies, shaking his head. “But, no, you will not come across any Angels in Álfheimr.”

             
“How did we get here?”

             
“One of the perks of being an elf is the ability to transport at will. I was under strict orders from Alberico to transport you immediately to the kingdom if I thought you were in any sort of danger.”

             
“Again, how can you be so sure that this Alberico guy even is my father? Like I said, my mom hasn't seen him since that summer eighteen years ago.” I’m beginning to feel a bit light-headed.

             
“Well, if you would let me finish speaking, I would tell you," he says with a sigh of amused exasperation.

             
“Sorry. I'll be quiet.” I make a show of zipping my mouth close.

             
“Like I was saying, your father is Alberico, King of the Light Elves. And yes, I am certain he is your father. Alberico and Katherine had a summer romance that ended abruptly. 

When he returned to Manhattan a year later and discovered she had a baby girl, he was concerned. Uncertain whether or not he was the father, he sent me to watch over you and wait for some indication that you had elfin blood running through your veins. I have been keeping watch ever since, waiting for some sign. Today, when you healed Brian,
Alberico's belief that you were his daughter was confirmed since healing is most certainly an elfish ability. A rare one, but it is one none the less. I am sure you are already bursting with questions so before I continue, why don't you get them all out?”

             
Just as I open my mouth to do exactly that, we are interrupted by a light tapping on the door.

             
“Come in,” Grey says politely, but I can sense a slight annoyance in his tone. I guess he didn't want to be interrupted. A dainty little flaxen-haired elf enters the room. She’s about my height, maybe a little shorter and way skinnier. Her long hair is braided behind her, which makes her pointy ears evident. She’s wearing a simple pale gray dress that falls to her ankles.

             
“Greyson?” she asks meekly.

             
“Yes?” He gestures for her to speak.

             
“The king wanted me to let you know that he will be down shortly.”

             
“Okay. Thank you, Freya. We are ready,” Grey says kindly as he dismisses her. She gives a quick little curtsy then makes a swift exit.

             
“My father?” I gulp.

             
“Yes.” Grey looks at me cautiously.

             
“My father, who is the King of the Light Elves, sent you to watch over me when I was a baby?” Something about that just doesn't make any sense, and I start feeling a little dizzy as another implausible thought occurs to me.

             
“Yes.”

             
“I am guessing you weren't a baby at the time” The room is definitely spinning. Grey looks like he is a teenager for goodness sake. But if he really has been watching me since I was a baby.....

             
“That would be a correct assumption.” He hesitates before continuing, “I was 170 years.”

             
I finally faint.

             
When I come to, I realize that I’m now lying down on the lavish bed, under a thick downy comforter that smells like honeysuckle and cinnamon. Which is a very weird, but oddly pleasant combination. As I lay there for a moment, inhaling the sweet and spicy scent, I notice someone new conversing quietly with Grey across the room. Since neither of them realize I’m awake yet, I lay there silently watching them and try to eavesdrop. This new boy appears only slightly older than Grey and he is, in a word, hot. He’s just as gorgeous as Grey, but in a completely different way. While Grey has a rugged sexiness about him with his dark hair, blue eyes, and dimpled chin, this new guy is beautiful in the clean-cut, boy-next-door turned underwear model sort of way. He has the lightest blonde hair I have ever seen, and it falls almost to his shoulders. His eyes are so bright I can see them from across the room. They are the color of the blue sky on a perfectly clear summer afternoon. He is wearing simple, nondescript tan pants and a white tunic-like shirt, which strikes me as an odd choice for a boy.

             
I listen for a moment and catch the gist of the conversation. Grey is explaining what happened today, but from his submissive gestures and the look of reverence in his eyes as he addresses this new guy, it is obvious that this hottie is much more important than just a beautiful underwear model. Suddenly, something clicks.

             
Not possible.

             
But after everything else that has happened today, it probably is.

             
Oh gross. I just called my dad hot.

             
“Grey?”

             
He immediately jumps up out of his chair at the sound of my voice, but Alberico stands up with the regality befitting a true monarch.

             
“Hello, Mia. It is lovely to meet you. I am Alberico,” he greets me formally, but his eyes sparkle with delight, as though he has been waiting a really long time for this moment.

             
Unbelievable. I’m staring at the King of the Light Elves, who also happens to be my long-lost father. The part that really freaks me out, though, is the fact that he looks like he is only a few years older than me. I must look completely ridiculous staring at him with my mouth gaping open, because he laughs. It’s a husky, full of life laugh.

             
“Yes, I guess my appearance would be a bit unnerving. Would you like me to explain how it is possible that we look to be about the same age?” he asks good-heartedly.

             
“How did you know I was thinking that?”

             
“Intuition,” he chuckles softly.

             
I regain what little composure I had to begin with and say, “I’m guessing that it’s an elf thing?”

             
“Yes, it is an 'elf thing'.”

             
“So are you immortal or something?” The thought causes a shiver to run down my spine.

             
He laughs again as he casually waves a hand in the direction of the fireplace, igniting the flames and warming the room instantly.

             
“No, I am not immortal. Although elves are born and experience childhood much the same as a human would, after adolescence we age much more slowly. I am 330 years old, but as you can see, I look more like I am in my mid-20s.”

             
Freaky. I wonder....

             
“What does that mean for me? You know, since I am part human, part—” I can't quite bring myself to say the word. It still doesn't feel real. In fact, I am still not 100% convinced that this isn't some whacked-out vivid dream.

             
“Well, to be honest, we aren't really sure. You see, Half-bloods are not very common. It is so unusual for an elf to, well, I apologize for the brusque terminology but, it is unusual for an elf to mate with a human. After the 15th century, the elves decided it would be in our best interest to distance ourselves from the human race.”

             
“What happened in the 15th century?” I wonder out loud.