Surrender, Book 3 The Elfin Series (25 page)

T
amsin, Vyshaan, and Lisa hopped up from their seats on the hotel bed when Syndra came striding through the mirror on the back of the bathroom door with
The Book of the Elves
clutched in her arms. Tamsin muttered a silent prayer of thanks to the Forest Lords. Apparently, their plan had worked. He had no doubt in his mate’s abilities, but it took a massive leap of faith to allow her to go into Lorsan’s office, alone, disguised as Ilyrana. But, as they had all decided, it was the only way they could safely get the book away from the dark elf king without another dangerous battle, this one taking place in very close proximity to the humans.

“Any problems?” he asked.

“Worked like a charm,” Syndra responded. “Lorsan had no idea. I left him tied to his chair with a mob of bloodthirsty humans beating down his door.”

“Do you think that was wise?” asked Tamsin. What if Lorsan gets free and takes his frustrations out on the humans?

“I don’t think he will. There was no way he could escape from the spell I placed on him, especially after it had been infused with power from the Book.”

“So you were really able to do it? You cast the spell on him without him even knowing it?”

“I simply looked over his shoulder and read the words silently. I felt him lock into place and he didn’t even realize it.

A twinge of jealousy washed over Tamsin as he imagined his lover leaning over Lorsan’s shoulders. He quickly squashed it, recognizing his mate’s cunning and bravery, and understood that she had done what she needed to for the greater good.

And I guess we have you to thank for that,” she said turning to Vyshaan.

“Thanks is not necessary,” said the elder. “It was the least I could do. Now let’s get this book to our new king, shall we?”

“Good idea,” commented Tamsin. “Trik phoned earlier. He should be here any second. He and Cassie located her parents. They were a bit shaken up, but otherwise unharmed.”

“Great, let’s get outside. This place is a dump,” said Syndra as she turned up her pert little nose and glanced around the room. “It’s worse than Lorsan’s dungeon.”

“The conditions didn’t seem to be bothering you when you were necking with your elf,” responded Lisa in a deadpan manner.

“Don’t’ get me started. Despite the lack of cleanliness in this place, there is a perfectly serviceable bed right there. We could pick up where we left off,” Syndra cooed as she stepped to Tamsin and placed her hands around his neck.

“I do not need any more images in my head that can’t be burned out. I’m out,” breathed Lisa, who walked out the door with all three elves, chuckling, in tow. Tamsin, the last one out, shut the door behind him and breathed in the humid swamp air, which seemed as fresh as a mountain morning compared to the stuffiness of the hotel room. Syndra placed the Book on a dilapidated picnic table that was standing sentinel by the empty hotel pool. They each sat down and Vyshaan began to explain everything he knew about the book.

L
orsan, huffing and puffing, stepped through the very bathroom mirror that the former light elf queen had only moments before. He crept to the hotel window and carefully looked outside seeing the three elves and the human pouring over the Book—
his
Book. It took everything in him not to storm out of the room and attack them. But he knew such an action would only ensure his death. He must be careful now. Without Ilyrana at his side, he knew just how vulnerable he was. Syndra showing up in his office wearing the face of his mate was a testament to that. His mind flashed back to his office as he watched his nemesis walk through the mirror without so much as a glance back.

Lorsan screamed at the back of Syndra as she lightly skipped through the mirror with
The Book of the Elves
in her hands and the declaration that his mate was dead. Just then the door exploded and his office was filled with angry humans. They saw the Rapture on his desk. Like a school of piranhas, they descended on the vial. They were no longer forming words. The only sounds escaping them were primal screams and guttural utterances. He felt as though a pack of zombies had descended and the vial was like a fresh beating heart to them.  Lorsan strained against his bonds, but still they held fast. The first human to make it to the desk, a burly man covered in tattoos, leapt toward the vial. He was stopped just inches away as two more humans, a man and a woman, came crashing down on his back. They slammed into the desk, knocking the vial over. It rolled backward, falling off the desk and landing under Lorsan’s feet. The swarm of humans came over the desk, engulfing him. His chair fell backward and he sat, back to the floor, facing the ceiling. The humans were biting, clawing, and scratching; each trying to hurt the other while also attempting to make it to the Rapture. Lorsan felt the pain of many punches and kicks raining down on him. He threw up a protection spell around his body, much like Syndra had earlier―though his was darker and less powerful. Just then he heard a tinkle of glass breaking. A human had inadvertently stepped on the vial. The last drop of Rapture was now running across his hand-scraped hardwood floors. If possible, the humans’ fury increased. Some howled, pummeling the clumsy fool who had stepped on the vial. Others dropped to their knees pushing each other out of the way as they tried to lap the precious liquid with their tongues. Still others kicked at Lorsan’s protective shield, trying to get to the elf. Somehow they seemed to understand that he was the source of all their problems.

All of a sudden, Lorsan felt his power returning. He should have realized when he threw up his protective shield that whatever magic Syndra cast on him was fading. Apparently, the Book’s power extended only so far. When she went through the portal, transporting herself almost fifteen hundred miles away, her spell began to weaken. He strained outward and felt the magical bonds holding him break apart. He was free. With a surge of renewed power, he sent a shockwave out from his body, the force of it throwing the humans away from him―some landing hard on his office furniture, some bouncing hard off the office walls. He roared and jumped onto this desk, surveying the destruction the humans had caused.

They were cowering now, scrambling backward to get away―running, crawling, and toppling toward the exit.

“I should kill you all for this,” he screamed at them. But he did not. He had bigger fish to fry right now. He leapt from his desk, soaring across the room, and plunged through the mirror calling on the magic of the portals to trace the last occupant to enter through that mirror. Syndra thought she’d bested him, but like her mate, she was a fool.

T
rik, Cassie, and Tony emerged from the hotel room that he and Cassie shared, after having teleported back from the Tate’s house. Mr. and Mrs. Tate had not wanted to let their daughter leave, but in the end they’d given up, realizing that their daughter was no longer a child. Trik walked over to the window and pulled the drapes aside to look out. He hoped he would find Cush standing there with Elora and Oakley in tow, but that isn’t what he saw. What he did see was just as reassuring. Four figures sat at a picnic table near the pool. He was taken aback by two things simultaneously. First, that one of the individuals was holding up
The Book of the Elves
, reading to the others as a kindergarten teacher might read
The Hungry Little Caterpillar
to her students. And second, that the teacher in question was none other than the elder Vyshaan himself. Any other time, Trik might have slain the elder on site, or at least attempted to. But as Tamsin, Syndra, and Lisa seemed to be hanging on his every word, it seemed a bit rash to exact judgment on the elder without at least asking a few questions first.

He took Cassie’s hand and pulled her toward the door. Then he glanced over at Tony. “It looks like the kicks just keep on coming.”

Cassie frowned at him. “Who’s doing the kicking and who’s getting kicked?”

Trik just winked at her and lead her from the room.

“I hate it when he winks like that instead of answering,” Tony huffed as he followed them. “It usually means whatever he knows is about to bust you in the gut and knock the air out of you.”

Cassie laughed. “I’m glad I’m not the only one who gets annoyed with him.”

“I’m right here you know,” Trik pointed out.

“We know,” Tony and Cassie said at the same time.

“Vyshaan,” Trik said quietly, staring at the elder as he approached the table. Everyone jumped to their feet, startled. Apparently they had all been so enthralled at what Vyshaan had been teaching them, they’d forgotten all about their surroundings. It must have been interesting in order for Tamsin to not be aware of what was going on around him.

“Hold, Trik,” came Tamsin’s steady voice. “Vyshaan has something to say before you pass judgment on him. And Syndra and I would also speak on his behalf.”

“What? What positive thing could you and your queen have to say about this…this…coward?”

“He helped Syndra, Lisa, and I escape Lorsan’s casino,” replied Tamsin.

“And he helped us get
this
,” Syndra interjected, raising
The Book of the Elves
. “And is teaching us how to decipher it.”

“And just why would you do that?” Trik spat at Vyshaan.

“Trik, I understand why you would feel the way you do about me. I admit that I abandoned my people in their time of need. Not just when I began working with Lorsan but also when Lorsan blew his castle to hell. I didn’t want to deal with the aftermath, and I didn’t know how to face you after I’d heard you had returned as our King. So, yes, you are right. I was a coward. I fled, when I should have been fighting for my people. It was the elders’ job to protect them. And I failed them. For that, I do deserve death.

But, Trik, I’m not the only one who has abandoned my people. You yourself have not always been blameless. You were the right and true king. But you threw that destiny away so you could serve your own dark nature.”

Trik growled in frustration. “Don’t you try and turn this back on me. I’ve faced the Forest Lords for what I’ve done. They passed their judgment and showed me mercy.”

“And now I’m simply asking you to do the same for me,” replied Vyshaan. “The Forest Lords aren’t here. You must be their instrument of mercy.”

“And how do I know that you are sincere? How do I know that you aren’t doing all this just to save your own skin? I can’t read your intentions or your heart. How do I know you aren’t lying?”

Vyshaan breathed deeply. “I’m not.”

“Perhaps, I can help in that regard,” Syndra spoke up, interrupting the intense conversation. “Am I not mistaken in noticing that we are a couple of elves short? Where is your trusty warrior, Cush, and his Chosen?”

“Good question,” Lisa spoke up. “I was told my daughter would be here and that Cush was coming for her.”

“She is here. But she seems to be in the company of a different companion than Cush. Cush and Oakley are here, and I only know that for sure because of that vehicle” ―he pointed to the yellow Jeep Wrangler― “and the footprints around it that lead toward the swamp. Few have a foot that large and it is not a modern shoe. It is definitely the boot print of an elvish warrior. I asked him to wait for us, but I am not surprised that he didn’t. If my Chosen was out there without me, I wouldn’t be waiting to find her either. So, they are out there—somewhere.” Trik made a sweeping motion with his hand toward the swamp. “He will get her back, but he alone must do this. It is a battle he must fight.”