The Shadow Elf’s Rescuer

Elves of Eldarlan
Book Two

Elisa Rae

Copyright © 2022 Rachel Rossano (under pen name Elisa Rae)

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This novel is a work of fiction. Though actual locations may be mentioned, they are used in a fictitious manner and the events and occurrences were invented in the mind and imagination of the author. Similarities of characters to any person, past, present, or future, are coincidental.

Cover by Rossano Designs

Contents

Title Page

Copyright

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Epilogue

About the Author

Chapter One

Veta

Screams tore through the night sky. Sleep vaporized as I bolted upright. Our hovel’s thin walls did little to muffle the frantic calls and shouts as a raid descended on our village.

“Veta?” Orin’s sleepy voice filtered through the darkness as his small hand found my arm. He scrambled closer, pressing his thin eight-year-old frame against my side. I slid my arm around his narrow shoulders and pulled him closer, trying to memorize his smell, the wiry strength of his form, and the warmth of his hug.

“Remember the plan?” I asked.

He tensed, all tight ridges beneath my touch. “The river?”

“Yes.” I brushed a kiss against his tousled hair, silken beneath my fingers as I held him close one last time. “Now go.”

“I love you, Veta,” he whispered.

“I love you, too.” Releasing him, I pushed him to stand. “Now go. Out the back.”

Orin obediently scrambled across the dirt floor, grabbed the gaping board on the back wall of the hovel, and pried it loose. I dared not follow him. Instead, I gathered up our thin blankets, choosing the thickest to wrap around my shoulders.

The noises outside grew louder.

“Bring out your goods!” one voice called. A scream followed.

Someone banged on the rickety piece of wood that served as our door. “Open up.”

Frozen with fear, I found my false bravado of moments before gone. I couldn’t move my feet.

“Open!” The leather hinges gave way. A lantern was thrust inside, blinding me. “You, girl, move.” A rough-skinned hand grabbed my upper arm and dragged me from the leaning hut. “Get in line.” He shoved me. Shaking with fear, I stumbled across the uneven ground toward the village center. “Another girl,” my assailant announced to a spindly legged man holding a ball. The ball flared to life as we neared, shedding light in all directions.

“One of the sensitives,” the skinny-legged man declared. “Put her over there.” He gestured toward a large man, tall and broad by his outline against the passing lantern’s light. Standing next to the large man was a thin lad about half my age. His features were ashen in the dim, variable lighting. The massive man’s paw of a hand gripped the lad’s shoulder, holding him in place.

Someone prodded me in the back, sending me stumbling toward them. I gripped my makeshift cloak tighter and hurried to obey. The choice was comply or die.

Orin and I had seen the aftermath of this type of raid many times. It happened whenever one of the magus lamias decided they needed more servants, grunts, slaves, whatever they called them. Then they sent out a brute squad to collect all the sensitives from the local villages until they met their quota. I shivered as I neared the giant man. He stood at least two or three feet taller than the tallest man I had ever met, and his hands were massive paws larger than my head.

We had avoided capture as long as possible, but I had known this day would come. At least Orin had a chance. I thought of him down by the river, hiding from the hounds that the squads sometimes brought with them. He would live. It didn’t matter what happened to me if my brother lived.

The man’s hand clamped down on my shoulder, fingers digging into the muscle and pressing against bone. I suppressed a gasp of pain and prayed I might endure. If I lived and Orin escaped, there was always hope we could reunite.

Under the spindly legged man’s orders, the raiding party sorted the captives, lining us up and binding our hands before us. Tying us into long lines with ropes, they herded our group through the dark forest like errant sheep being led to the slaughter. They kept the boy they called a sensitive and me separated from the larger group. To keep my mind off our possible fates, I mulled over this strange classification.

Humans, unlike many of the other species populating our world, didn’t have natural magic. Some of us could sense magic, but we were incapable of using magic beyond using an already charmed item. The only exception was when a magus lamia performed horrific rites that drained natural magic from a magical being. The methods of draining hideously changed those who used them to gain power. Magus lamias lost parts of their soul with each power grab, and many considered them no longer human. I shivered.

After hours of trudging, we arrived. An eerie yellow-green glow illuminated the broken stone pathway, casting our surroundings in a sickly light. A towering mossy stone wall blocked our path. Inset in the wall, a sinister black iron gate loomed menacingly.

“Move aside!” The spindly legged man pushed to the front of the line.

Upon reaching the gates, he pressed his palm to the latch and muttered something in a strange tongue. A bright flare of disgusting yellow magic caused the gates to spring open.

“The captives go into the shed until morning, but not the sensitives. They follow me.” He spat in the dirt and then waved to the giant holding our rope. The giant dragged us toward the vast front opening of the building.

The sensitive in front of me caught sight of the door and started breathing fast and frantically.

“Move faster!” The spindly legged man pushed the door open and waved for us to enter.

The male sensitive began keening. The high-pitched sound grated on my already fraying nerves. “Hush,” I whispered. “Annoying them will only make things worse.”

The boy didn’t listen.

“Cease your sound, mosquito!” roared the giant. He swiped at the lad, who sputtered into silence.

By then, we were walking through an echoing cavern of a room. High above us hung antler-covered chandeliers sprouting candles alight with more yellow-green flames. Something about the scent in the air turned my stomach.

We approached another set of double doors on the other side of the great room. Our spindly legged leader knocked on the door.

“Come!”

The spindly legged man shoved the door open and motioned us inside.

The room stunk of refuse and the stale sour scent of magus magic. Filthy metal cages lined the walls and enclosed all manner of magical creatures. Salamanders, sprites, and fire-tailed foxes skittered and chattered behind their bars. A gnome huddled in one corner cage. His form was almost invisible beneath a heap of rotting hay.

Then, I noticed the largest cage of all. Dominating the other corner, it was composed of tightly spaced bars. And within it, shackled by iron chains and rings, stood a shadow elf.

Frightening creatures who wraithwalked through shadows and stole into places that no one else reached, shadow elves haunted human children’s nightmares. Parents warned disobedient children that a shadow elf could snatch them away at any moment. Wherever shadows lay, a shadow elf might appear.

However, I felt no fear as I gazed up at the lean, powerfully built form hanging behind the bars. If anything, I felt sorrow. His midnight hair hung in limp disarray, covering his face. His head slumped forward so his chin rested on his chest. The subdued copper hue of his exposed skin had ashy undertones that I suspected indicated compromised health. No visible wounds marred his arms or what bits of him were visible through rips in his tattered clothing.

“Only two?” A man of medium height approached from the far end of the room, down near the smaller creatures.

“The detection stone only glowed for these two.” The spindly legged man offered the orb to the other. I suspected this new man was the magus.

He looked at me with mild interest before turning to the other prisoner. Muttering a word, he shoved the globe toward the captured boy. The light glowed dimly. My fellow captive’s eyes widened, and he began keening again.

Disgust crossed the face of the magus. “Barely enough potential to register. Training him would be a waste. Put him with the others.”

The giant grabbed the boy’s shoulder, shaking him violently. Only then did the keening stop when the boy slumped into unconsciousness. I envied him.

The magus turned to me. Thrusting the globe in my direction, he repeated something. This time I heard it more clearly, but I was no closer to identifying the word. The orb flared to life. The shadows retreated from the intensity of its glow. The magus uttered a curse. “Why a woman?” he demanded.

Apparently, he didn’t expect an answer because neither of his minions responded. The magus stomped his way over to a workbench, cursing under his breath. “She will have to serve for now until I find a male to replace her.”

He returned with a thin metal band in his hand. Yanking aside my blanket and ripping off my left sleeve, he slapped the band against the skin of my upper arm. He spoke a handful of words, and the metal glowed, warming and softening as it wrapped around my muscle. When the glowing stopped, the metal band had melted into a solid ring around my arm.

“You can let her go now.” The magus waved at the giant and the spindly legged man. “I’ve bound her to my express will. Take the reject out of here. I have no use for him.”

The trio left.

The magus pointed to me. “Call me Master,” he ordered. “You are now bound to my workroom. Your purpose is to keep my experiments alive.” He motioned to the cages, including the one holding the shadow elf. My stomach sank.

“If one of them grows ill, I will have you beaten. Should any of them die, you will be beaten and starved. If they all live and you survive, I might reward you.”

From his tone alone, I quickly surmised that a reward would never be forthcoming. My heart ached for the poor creatures. Either he would kill them himself or he would torture them until they died.

“Do you understand?” he demanded as he grabbed my chin, forcing me to look up into his contorted features. Black eyes without whites bore into mine. His fingernails bit into my skin as he tightened his grip.

“Yes,” I whispered, afraid of provoking him.

Apparently satisfied, he flung me away. I fell to my knees. Thankful to be released, I scrambled away from him to avoid being kicked as well.

Striding from the room, he bolted the door with a heavy thump. The sprites jeered. Fluttering about their cage, they shook tiny fists at me and snapped sharp teeth menacingly. The salamanders slithered about, giving off waves of heat.

The gnome didn’t move at all, making me wonder if he was already dead. I peered into his cage. It didn’t stink like something dead.

“Don’t.”

The deep voice came from behind me. I spun around only to find no one there. My heart thundered in my ears as I searched for the source of the voice in the long, narrow room.

“He will attack you if you get too close.” The shadow elf lifted his head and shifted his shoulders. I glimpsed a long nose, dark brows, and long lashes before the fall of his black hair hid them again. “The gnome went mad months ago. He wishes to die. Most of us do.”

“Oh, no. Don’t say that.” I glanced around. “There must be some way of escape. There has to be.” My chest ached. I had to get back to Orin.

The elf tried to laugh, but it caught in his chest, causing him to cough harshly. He leaned his head back as he gasped for air, offering a view of his long throat. Easily a foot and a half taller than I, he was muscled and lean. I suspected he had once instilled fear into the hearts of all who glimpsed him. Even now, restrained and obviously ailing, he made me hesitate for fear.

“You have barely arrived.” He groaned as he adjusted his position, pain tightening his features. “Soon, that hope will be snuffed out.”

Turning away to approach the sprites, I peered into their cage. “What do these eat?”

“Your fingers if you aren’t careful.”

“I mean, what am I supposed to feed them?”

“A scoop of those pellets stored below their cage.”

“And the gnome?”

He still didn’t look at me. His head lolled to one side. “Another slave brings in cuttings from the garden for him. And before you ask, the foxes get fresh meat delivered with the greens, and the salamanders eat worms. Enough about food for tonight. I am weary.” He leaned his head forward again so that his chin came to rest on his chest.

I scanned the room as I rubbed the metal circle around my upper arm. There was hardly a sheltered place to rest between the dangerous creatures’ pens and the tables covered in jars and vials. The only clear gap along the wall was between the salamander enclosure and the shadow elf’s cage.

Pulling my cloak tighter around my shoulders, I eyed the elf. Restrained as he was, I doubted he could harm me. Obviously, his wraithwalking ability had somehow been hindered, or he would have been long gone from this place. I shivered as the temperature dropped in the room. No fire burned in the fireplace, and the magus apparently didn’t bother to warm it when he wasn’t there. Now that my panic had calmed, a chill settled in my bones. Beneath the salamanders would be the perfect place to bed down. Their naturally warm temperature would keep at least some of the chill at bay.

I padded quietly across the floor to the space on the wall. The elf didn’t stir. I suspected he faked sleep. No one could fall asleep so quickly in that awkward position. Still, he clearly didn’t want to speak with me. That was fine with me. I ached with exhaustion. Curling up on the floor with my back pressed to the wall, I tucked my feet under the edges of my blanket and settled in for sleep.

Slumber didn’t come right away. The salamanders slid about, the fire-tail foxes rustled, and the elf above me breathed roughly. I finally fell asleep, wondering how injured the elf was for him to be breathing so raggedly. How did elves usually breathe anyway?

∞∞∞

Chapter Two

Casimir

She reminded me of my sister-in-law, fragile, delicate, and all too human. I rotated my head again, trying to ease the knots in my neck muscles. A groan escaped as I encountered a particularly painful bunching of muscles.

The woman on the floor outside my cage shifted in her sleep.

Closing my eyes against the pain, I adjusted the set of my shoulders and attempted to stretch the offended muscles. This had been my life for three months now. Aching joints and muscles plagued my body thanks to the constraints of my prison.

During the long stretches of boredom and solitude, I chastised myself for my foolish impulsiveness. Running off intent on taking revenge on the shadow elf who had attempted to kill my brother’s future wife had been one of my worst ideas. Falling under the control of another, stronger magus hadn’t been part of the plan. Yet here I was, tortured as he drained my magic twice a month. I trembled slightly at the memory of the last draining. Each one took more of my life force. Before long, he would kill me. My only regret was my inability to speak with my brother again. Illeron and Avril would worry.

Dawn came. There were no windows in our chamber, but as a shadow elf, I felt every dawn acutely. The brightening of the sky brought weakness, weariness, and sensitivity to sound and sensation that made us seek the solace of sleep. But no rest was readily available.

The door was flung open by our captor. The woman startled from sleep with a soft gasping cry that she quickly muffled as she scrambled to her feet. Wiping her face, she blinked blearily in the sudden intensifying of the blue-flamed lanterns when the magus walked in.

“Feed the creatures, slave,” the magus ordered before gathering a selection of potions from the workbench. “And hurry up about it. We have work to do with the elf. I wish to try a fresh approach.”

I cringed involuntarily. It was too soon. I hadn’t regained even half my strength since the last draining. But I kept my tongue. Death would be a welcome change. My wrists chafed, the iron manacles opening old wounds. The raw skin stung and bled. Iron wasn’t deadly, but it burned on contact.

The girl rushed about attempting to feed the creatures without getting hurt herself. All went surprisingly well until she dropped the bowl of greens for the salamanders. It hit the ground with a clatter, scattering the food everywhere. She dropped to her knees, frantically gathering bits of leaf.

“Clumsy oaf.” The magus cuffed the side of her head. She yelped and scrambled away, which earned her another blow.

Everything within me revolted. “Leave her!” I roared.

The magus turned on me, quick as a breath. “He speaks!” His ugly eyes peered through my bars. “Good. Then you can scream for me when I drain you dry this morn.” He cackled, striking my bars with the palm of his hand. “I love a screamer.” He kicked the woman as he passed her. This time she didn’t drop the bowl or cry out. Instead, she rose and crossed to the salamander enclosure.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

I didn’t bother answering but turned my face away from her. As it was, I had already probably made things worse for her. If the magus got the idea that I liked her, he would torture her in front of me. He had already done it once with his previous assistant.

“Master, what do I feed the elf?” she asked with head bowed and shoulders slumped.

“Nothing.” The magus didn’t look up from his compounding of the required herbs for his spell. “He is going to feed me more of his magic, and then he will be useless for hours. Feeding him would be a waste. He would just throw it up afterward.”

She turned toward me. I didn’t hide my face fast enough, and I looked her full in the face for the first time. Wide gray eyes assessed my features from beneath delicately winged dark brows. Sadness softened her eyes’ depths, and I suspected the emotion in them wasn’t just for me.

Behind her, the magus began the incantation that bound me to his will. Familiar anger rushed through me at the use of my native language and a cannibalizing of our sacred bonding vows. I fought the magic as it gripped me.

Winding around me with a deceptive allure, it dug beneath my skin with sharp claws, ripping the ability to control my body from me. My teeth ground together as my jaw clamped shut. The last sight before my head snapped back was the tears filling the eyes of the human girl. Then the agony began in earnest as the spell started ripping my very being asunder, separating my lifeforce from my body.

∞∞∞

Veta

The magus detached the shadow elf’s manacles from the chains and dragged him from his cage with magic. My tongue and nose protested the intensifying sour sensations of the magus’ growing magic. A glowing red haze threaded through the air around the elf as he dangled by unseen forces. His body suspended in the center of the room. Then the magus’ language changed from lyrical phrases to guttural sounds that violently ripped from his throat. The elf contorted. Muscles and sinew strained, and tendons stretched unnaturally as the elf’s body twisted painfully. A silvery-hued haze oozed from him, which was devoured by the red fog holding him.

As much as I desired to hide my face, I couldn’t. I desperately wanted to intervene, interrupt the spell, distract the magus, anything to make the torture stop. But to interrupt would be death for the elf, the magus, and possibly for myself. I watched in dismay as the elf’s skin grew more ashen and prayed that he would survive. There had to be a way to escape this horror. I would do anything to help him.

After what seemed like hours of silent agony on the part of the elf and gleeful recitation by the magus, the villain cut the spell off with a triumphant shout. The elf collapsed to the floor like a rag doll, falling loose-limbed and awkwardly angled. He was silent and so incredibly still.

“Tend him and put him back in his cage,” the magus ordered. He now glowed with power, practically bursting with his stolen magic. “Don’t try anything. You’re both bound to the room.” Then he left, slamming the door behind him.

I didn’t waste a moment. Cautiously stepping over the elf’s sprawled limbs, I reached his torso.

He lay so still. Had he died? His copper color had faded to gray. Tentatively, I reached over and laid a hand on the elf’s chest. They had a heart or a similar organ that pumped their strange-colored blood through their veins. I prayed something would stir beneath my fingers. Wounds oozed green blood where red glowing manacles chafed his wrists.

For a few frozen moments, his chest didn’t move beneath my palm, but then I sensed a slight flutter. Shifting my hand toward the sensation, I found a beat, solid and steady.

Then, suddenly, he dragged in a breath, harsh and painful. He winced and opened his eyes. Vivid silver-laced green, they studied my features for a moment before closing again.

“I live.” So much pain, disappointment, and sadness were contained in those two words that my heart ached.

“How can I free you?” I had meant to ask how I might help him, but my deeper desire slipped through my lips instead.

“Kill me.”

I scrambled back from him in horror.

He groaned as he started reclaiming the use of his limbs, straightening and folding them until he curled on his side facing me. Agony contorted his features. “I’m as helpless as a human babe. It wouldn’t take much.” Then he met my tear-drenched gaze. Weariness and resignation tainted the pain in his expression. “Or not. Don’t look at me like that. I won’t force you to.”

“There must be another way to get free.” I wanted to touch him, soothe him like a child, reassure him that there was hope. There had to be hope.

“The only way out would be asking too much of you.” He attempted to pull himself across the floor toward the wall, only to halt halfway there and drop his head to his arms. His quick, shallow breathing kept catching in his chest.

“Can I help?”

“Free me? Or help me to the wall?” He turned to look at me with one bright, sardonic eye.

“Both, either.”

His harsh laugh turned into a coughing fit that laid him prone on the stone floor. I crossed to him, tentatively rubbing his back, trying to soothe the convulsions. Once he grew still, sprawled on his stomach and weak with the effort of the fit, I ventured to speak again.

“What would your freedom cost me?”

“Being forever bound with a shadow elf.” His mouth twisted. “No human would risk that.”

With a great groan, he shoved himself up onto all fours and crawled across the remaining floor to his cage. Once there, he sat, slumping against the wall. Some of his proper color was returning, but his gaze was turning glassy. Did elves suffer from fevers?

“What would that entail?” I asked.

He moved his head before stopping with a wince. “You would utter words in elvish that would bond a part of your lifeforce to me for the rest of your days. I won’t be capable of giving it back.” A flash of anger distorted his expression as he straightened. “How ironic. All it took were twisted words to prevent me from wraithwalking out of this room and decimating him and his realm. A few magic-infused twisted words—” Just as abruptly, the fire left his eyes as he sagged again. “Not that I am capable of much in this state.” He grimaced. “In a day or two, that will change.” He groaned, pressing his hand to his side. “I need to heal.” Sliding sideways, he folded in on himself and was still.

I cautiously moved closer. The elf breathed. His features were still strained by pain, but the set of his mouth had eased. I smoothed back the fringe of black hair that hung over his face. Lying there, knees tucked to his chest like a child, he almost looked harmless. At the same time, I knew he was anything but. Shadow elves were powerful, dangerous, and to be avoided at all costs. Giving a piece of myself to one would definitely be foolish. Still, I couldn’t let him die.

Fetching my blanket from where I had dropped it, I draped it over his shoulders. He needed it more than I did. Leaving him to his sleep, I began my assigned tasks. Feeding the creatures without them hurting me took far more care than I suspected it would.

Hours passed before he stirred again. But I used that time wisely. So, when he lifted his dark head and blinked sleepily in the dimming yellow-green light of the guttering candles, I sat across from him, waiting.

“I will do it for a price.”

He blinked. As he woke fully, clarity slowly returned to his gaze. He didn’t immediately respond. Straightening from the slump he had slept in, he rolled his shoulders and eased his head from side to side before resting it against the wall. Drawing up one knee, he discovered my blanket. It had fallen from his shoulder as he rose from the floor.

His mouth twisted slightly at the sight of it. But instead of throwing the cloth aside, he studied it thoughtfully for a moment.

I waited.

“What is your price?” he asked at last. True to his prediction, he was healing, but slowly. His skin was no longer gray. Its slight coppery hue was growing stronger, but he was only a faded shadow of what he had looked like the night before when I first arrived.

“Freedom for me and my brother.”

That brought the full intensity of his attention to me. I forced myself to keep speaking, despite a flutter of nerves. The exactness of my words might mean life or death.

“I wish to be free of this prison, reunited with my brother, and then the pair of us delivered safely to the border of warlord country.”

He studied me carefully. No emotion leaked past the impassive mask he had composed over his countenance. The tight control of the day before had returned. “No demands for riches?”

“When I was taken, my brother escaped. We had a prearranged place where he would wait until I came for him. He will be easy to find.”

“No further demands on me? No wishes for power?”

“I only wish for my brother and I to be transported to safety. Then you may go your way.”

“And if I choose to destroy our captor, will you protest?” His eyelids lowered slightly, but the eyes beneath remained bright and intent.

I shivered. “I won’t give you permission, but I won’t condemn you either.”

“How magnanimous of you.”

I lifted my face to glare at him. “Don’t mock me.” Tears threatened, but I held them back.

“So, you do have limits.”

“Everyone does.”

He snorted softly. “Perhaps. For a moment there, I suspected you didn’t. You are far too generous.”

Uncertain if he was mocking my price, I ignored his comment. “Can you do it?”

He didn’t respond at first. After a long moment of studying me from beneath hooded eyes, he finally spoke. “I can, once the magus’ hold breaks.”

“Are you healed enough?” I assessed his coloring again. His skin was still distressingly more gray than copper.

“For wraithwalking, yes.”

“When shall we try?”

“In an hour.” His eyes slid closed. “I need more rest before we act.”

“Should we break the bond first? Will you heal faster then?”

He opened one eye. “In a rush?” Closing the eye again, he continued speaking in a low monotone. “When we break the magus’ hold, he will feel it. We will have to leave immediately. Night, the part of the day cycle I am strongest, will last six more hours at least. We have time. Now, let me rest.”

I curled up on the floor near his feet since he had taken my chosen spot. A moment later, the wadded-up bundle of my blanket hit my head.

“Your teeth are chattering,” he muttered.

I eagerly huddled beneath the blanket and tried to sleep.

∞∞∞

Chapter Three

Casimir

Guilt pressed on me as I watched my tiny would-be deliverer sleep. Her dark hair tumbled over her arm and across the floor in a mussed wave of silken night. Only her forehead was visible past the edge of the cocoon she had created of her blanket. The thin bit of woolen cloth was barely thick enough to be considered a blanket, yet she had been using it as a cloak when she arrived.

Even now, she shivered.

I couldn’t blame her. The stone floor was cold. My limbs were growing numb, but I dreaded moving.

I studied my fellow prisoner. Breaking the spell that bound her to the room would be child’s play once I was free. Fulfilling my side of our bargain would be just as simple once I regained my ability to wraithwalk. But once I did, I knew instinctively that I wouldn’t be able to live with the uneven balance between us. She asked so little for so much.

Movement outside the doors signaled that our time was running out. I had to act. At the very least, I would save her life in exchange for her saving mine. That would have to be good enough. It was move now or lose our chance. I touched her foot with mine, nudging it. Only then did I realize I didn’t know her name.

She stirred.

“It is time.” I crawled over to her and pulled back the blanket. “We have to move.”

Her eyes opened. “Now?”

I nodded.

She sat up, yawned, and then stretched, adjusting her blanket around her shoulders like a cloak. “What do I need to do first?”

“Give me your name.”

She regarded me with sleepy amusement. “Only if you give me yours.”

“Casimir.”

She tested the sound out thoughtfully. “It suits you.”

“And yours?”

“Veta.”

I nodded. “Take my hand.”

She pressed her palm to mine, lacing her fingers between mine. Her hand was so small. “Now, repeat after me.”

I began speaking the first promise of a wife to her husband in elvish. She mimicked me, clearly not understanding the words or their meaning. But the bonding was working, nonetheless. The silver glow of my own magic flared to life around us. Her gray eyes widened in surprise. Her reaction tempted me to ask what she saw, but I resisted. We couldn’t interrupt the ritual or risk backlash. There wasn’t time. The movement outside the door had grown more purposeful. I wasn’t sure if it was the magus or one of his willing minions. Either way, we might not get another opportunity.

Then with a sudden jolt, as she spoke the last words, my constraints fell away. The shackles on my wrists and ankles disintegrated. Instinctively, I wraithwalked, taking her with me. She gave a sharp cry when the binding holding her to the room caught. But the resistance lasted barely a moment before I ripped it free of her arm, melting it with my renewed connection to my magic. Pulling her to my chest, I dove for the next shadow and then the next.

An hour later and many miles from the magus’ fortress, I finally came to a halt. Releasing her, I stumbled away and fell to my knees in exhaustion. My chest heaved and my head swam, but the air I dragged into my lungs was sweet, fresh, and loamy. I fell forward, catching myself with my hands in the grass, but only to slow my descent before I rested my cheek amid the green stalks. Sleep hit me like a wall, hard and unyielding. I was only dimly aware of a touch to my shoulder before I knew no more.

∞∞∞

Veta

Casimir slept like the dead. Only the rise and fall of his shoulders beneath the blanket I spread over him indicated life.

I sat next to him. My left upper arm still stung where the metal band had been. Lifting my arm, I examined the welt. It looked like a burn. I was afraid to touch it for fear of making it worse.

Besides, I was more concerned about my companion.

He had dropped us in a small hollow amid a stand of trees. Through the branches, I watched the sunrise. Sheltered as we were, I couldn’t see much. The only sounds around us were of the forest. A rabbit hopped through, stared at Casimir and me, and moved on unperturbed. Squirrels quarreled above us. The wind whispered and teased the treetops, making them bend and dance. Still, Casimir slept.

Weary and hungry, I sat and waited. At midday, the sun finally peeked into our hidden hollow, chasing away the chill and making me sleepy. I curled up back-to-back with the elf and slept.

I woke to someone speaking my name. It took me a moment of blinking to realize that I wasn’t blind, but night had fallen.

“Don’t scream,” Casimir admonished me from nearby.

“I wasn’t planning on it.” I sat up slowly. My blanket was back around my shoulders again. He must have put it there when he woke. “How late is it?”

“Late.” Casimir moved. I couldn’t see him in the pitch darkness, but I heard him. “I overslept. Are you well enough to move?”

“Yes.” I stood. The blanket slipped from my shoulders. My legs ached, so I didn’t attempt to catch it. As I stretched out the muscles, Casimir moved about me in a quick succession of breezes and rustles. “What are you doing?”

He stopped next to me, so close I heard his almost silent breathing. His presence was a warm beacon in the night’s chill. I leaned toward him, stopping myself short of touching him.

Casimir picked up my blanket and dropped it around my shoulders. “Checking for danger. Getting my bearings. We came farther than I expected.” He paused. “Where did you arrange to meet your brother?”

I described the village the magus’ men had stolen me from. “There is a cave in the hillside across the river to the south. We agreed to hide a week in the event of an attack.”

Casimir hesitated. “We can move faster if I carry you. Are you willing to let me to do that?”

“I assumed as much considering the last time.” After surviving most of our frantic escape crushed to his chest, I recalled little of him moving us both through a land of shadow and shade. My eyes remained clamped shut for most of the journey.

“My apologies for not asking beforehand.”

“Are you in earnest?” I asked, peering up toward where I guessed his face was. “We were escaping, and time was of the greatest importance.” My response didn’t seem to reassure him.

“Still, it is generally unacceptable to pick up a woman and carry her off without asking permission.”

I suppressed a smile. “Permission given.”

Casimir lifted me up and cradled me against his chest. This time his hold was much more comfortable than the crushing grip of our dash the night before. He was warm. I leaned into him, settling against his shoulder.

He cleared his throat. “Are you ready?”

“Yes.”

What followed was a blur of shadows sifting in impossible directions, the constant movement of air ruffling my hair, and the steady thump of his heart beneath my ear. Then, suddenly, it was over.

“We have arrived.” He lowered my feet to the grass before uttering something in elvish. A ball of silver light manifested into existence over my head.

I blinked in the sudden brightness. The smoking remnants of a dozen cottages surrounded what had been the village center. Not a soul remained in sight. Not that I blamed them. Once a magus raided a village, more raids would follow. Scattering and seeking a new site was the best tactic.

“This direction is south,” Casimir announced, striding toward the river. Running after him, I couldn’t keep up with his long-legged pace. He reached the side of the rushing river first. It was wider than I recalled. We would have to swim.

“Come.” Casimir caught my hand, leading me back to the darker shade of the oak tree behind us. The moment his foot touched the margin of the shadow, the glow above my head winked out, and we stepped into pitch blackness. Our next step brought us out from the shadow of a towering pine a solid dozen feet from the river on the southern side. The magic globe blinked into existence again.

I stumbled to a halt. “How do you pick the shadow to walk into?” I asked.

“What?” Casimir had already released my hand and was investigating the beginning of a trail.

“How do you know where you are going? The step between is pitch black.”

He straightened in surprise before regarding me. “It isn’t to me.”

“So, you know exactly where to step when you wraithwalk?”

“Yes.” He smiled, an infinitesimal flash of white in the shadows of his features. “It is interesting to know you cannot see the paths I can.”

“Not that surprising, though.” My toe caught a rock as I picked my way across the uneven ground to his side. “I am blind as a bat without this light.”

“I noticed.” He led the way deeper into the forest. “You keep giving quizzical looks to the air around my head.”

“I can’t help it that I am not used to your height or able to sense your orientation.”

“Especially since I cannot get away from an awareness of your location.” His musing tone made me wonder what he meant by that, but I forgot to ask him. The large boulder marking the opening of Orin’s and my hiding place came into sight.

“Orin!” I called as I ran up the hill. Thankfully, the light followed me as I scrambled through the narrow opening on my hands and knees. My nose filled with the moist scents of dirt and darkness. To my disappointment, the small crawl space was empty save for a few supplies.

“Veta?” Casimir’s voice came from just outside the opening. “It might be best if you come out here before your brother attacks me.”

“Orin?” I scrambled back through the opening. Tripping on my skirts, I almost tumbled down the hillside. I would’ve if Casimir hadn’t caught me by my shoulder.

“Slowly,” he whispered as he steadied me. “I was joking. He won’t hurt me, but I suspect he wishes to.”

Orin stood just slightly down the hill gripping a sharpened stick and a rusted knife. “Let go of my sister.”

Casimir released his grip on my shoulder carefully. “I mean her no harm.”

“He rescued me, Orin.” I stepped toward my awkward little brother and opened my arms. “See. I am whole and well.”

Orin eyed the elf suspiciously, but then he seemed to accept that Casimir wasn’t intent on hurting me. He ran up the hill, dropping the weapons, and threw his arms around my middle, clinging tightly to me. “I thought you were dead.” Telltale moisture wet my shoulder where he had buried his face. “The villagers burned everything and left. They offered to take me with them, but I said no.”

“I am so glad you did.” I drew back to look down at his tear-streaked features. Related only through our mother, we shared the coloring we inherited from her—pale skin, dark hair, and gray eyes. Otherwise, we were as different as two siblings could be. His nose was long and patrician, and his jaw square. My small narrow nose was from Mother, but she said my narrow jaw was from my father. I ruffled Orin’s mop of hair with a smile to cover up my own burning eyes. One of us had to resist tears.

“Is he really a shadow elf?” Orin peered over my shoulder at Casimir with a mixture of fear and awe.

“He is.”

“Are all the stories of them true?”

“I highly doubt it.” Now that I had spent time with Casimir, I doubted any of the nightmare-inducing tales we had heard as children were accurate. The self-contained, sometimes austere elf I had met didn’t fit the horror stories of baby stealing or the violent ends promised to disobedient children. He was dark, powerful, mysterious, and different, but I couldn’t envision him doing harm to a child, much less my brother.

I slid my arm across Orin’s shoulders and turned him with me to face my deliverer. “Why don’t you ask him?”

Casimir lifted a hand to stall any verbal onslaught. “First, you’d best tell me where you wish to be transported.”

“The village just south of Warlord Kaelen’s land should work. We’ll make our way north from there.”

“Very well, but I can only carry one of you at a time.”

“Then take Orin first. I will gather his blanket from the cave.”

A twitch in Casimir’s cheek indicated something, but I wasn’t certain what. “I will return shortly then.” He turned to my brother. “My name is Casimir.”

“Orin,” my brother informed him.

Casimir accepted the name without comment. “Are you willing to let me carry you?”

“Definitely not.”

“It will take us longer to travel.”

Orin crossed his arms over his narrow chest. “Then let it. I will not be carried like a baby or a woman.”

“Very well.” Casimir bowed to me before taking Orin’s shoulder and disappeared into a shadow. His motion cut off Orin mid-question.

Casimir had left the light over my head, which helped in the retrieval of the second blanket. Then, I settled on the hillside to wait.

Some time passed, and my head was beginning to nod. Suddenly, with a soft whoosh, Casimir stood before me again, all long, lean strength cloaked in darkness.

“Thank you for leaving the light.”

“You’re welcome.” He lifted me from the grass with no apparent effort.

My head settled against his shoulder as a sense of belonging washed over me. My eyelids fell closed of their own accord. “And for tolerating Orin’s questions,” I whispered. A blissful heaviness settled over my limbs, pulling me toward sleep. Safe and warm, I didn’t even try to resist.

“Someone had to tell him the truth,” Casimir replied as he tucked the blankets around my shoulders.

I was asleep before he took the first step.

∞∞∞

Chapter Four

Casimir

Veta’s brother was resourceful. Before I returned to the village where I had arranged a room for them, he had made the bed and fetched water from the well. Considering his sister was asleep in my arms when I stepped into the room, Orin’s preparations helped.

I laid Veta on the straw mattress and pulled the covers over her before motioning him from the room. I needed some questions answered before I left them.

“Do you have money?” I asked him once the door closed behind us.

He shook his head. “We never have money.”

“Then how do you survive?”

“We trade work for food, bedding for a night, that sort of thing. I’m a hard worker.” His narrow shoulders and hollowed cheeks spoke eloquently enough of the quality of life he and his sister had lived.

“I will be back,” I promised. I owed it to Veta.

The lad seemed to accept it as a matter of course. “Thanks so much for the help, master elf.”

“Casimir,” I responded instinctively. “Call me Casimir.”

“Thank you for arranging the bed, Casimir. I haven’t slept in a real bed before.”

“You’re welcome.”

I stepped through the shadows in search of food and supplies for the pair of them. Visiting a local waypoint for my brother’s ranks of shadow elves, I found exactly what my charges needed.

When I returned, both were asleep. Veta had burrowed deep in the covers, her legs curled up toward her chest and her dark waterfall of hair flowing over the surface of the bed. Meanwhile, Orin sprawled on top of the covers with his limbs all akimbo.

I placed my gift of supplies on the stool in the corner. As I was adjusting the bundle so it wouldn’t fall, Veta murmured.

“Casimir?”

“I am here,” I responded without thought. Turning toward the bed, I found her watching me.

Eyes bleary with sleep and clearly not completely awake, Veta smiled at me. A visceral flood of yearning took my breath away. It wasn’t clear what I desired, but the sensation was somehow connected to her.

“Thank you,” she whispered, reaching out toward me.

I stepped forward and caught her questing fingers. So small, pale, and delicate against my darker skin, they gripped my hand with a tenacious strength. I leaned closer and brought her fingers to my lips, kissing the back of them as I would a great elven lady. “It was my honor.”

Veta blushed as she pulled her hand back to tuck it under the covers again.

I stood over her, bemused as she slipped into back into slumber. “I owe you more than I can repay,” I whispered when I was confident that she no longer heard me. Reaching out, I brushed the fall of silken midnight on her pillow. “Farewell, Veta.”

Then, despite the temptation to do more, I stepped back into the shadows and headed home.

As the night waned, I set foot on my brother’s land for the first time in six months. After three months of hunting the shadow elf who had threatened my new sister-in-law, followed by captivity for three months in the clutches of the leach, Magus Nephile, it was good to be home. The wards surrounding the grounds closed over me, and the nearest of the perimeter guards swiftly approached.

“Stand and declare yourself.” Blagden stepped out of the twilight, sword in hand and ready for a fight.

“I am Casimir Whispier, though you should already know that.”

Blagden’s shock quickly melted into obvious joy. “Welcome home! What happened to you? Master Whispier and Lady Avril will be delighted you have returned. They have been so worried.”

I frowned at him. “They shouldn’t be. I let Avril know I was leaving for a time.”

“Six months, Casimir, it has been six months without a single word. Master Whispier sent out a search party every few weeks during the whole time you have been gone.”

Apparently, Blagden had already signaled my arrival because, within moments, another of my brother’s shadow elves appeared with my brother himself in tow. Lean like me, he was my opposite in so many ways. As a light elf, he was as pale as I was dark. He kept his curly brown hair short, contrary to the conventional practice of most elves. However, our most similar attribute was our eyes. Both of us possessed silver shot green eyes.

“Cas!” Illeron tackled me in a bear hug and squeezed. I returned the embrace with slightly less enthusiasm. I had missed him. “Where have you been?” He held me at arm’s length for a moment, scanning me from head to toe as if to assure himself I was all there.

“Hunting magus lamias. I told Avril.”

“I know.” He punched my arm. “That was for telling her and not me.”

“She told you.”

Illeron gently smacked the back of my head. “Of course, she told me. She is my wife. You missed the wedding, by the way. I suspect that was on purpose.”

I neither confirmed nor denied the accusation, but that never stopped Illeron from moving forward with the assumption.

“How is my sister-in-law?” I asked.

“Here.” Avril appeared behind Illeron, accompanied by her own escort, my friend Odon. “Why are you two holding the grand reunion without me?” she demanded of Illeron, mild irritation flaring in her warm brown eyes. Despite her dark auburn hair, she rarely displayed her temper.

“You were sleeping,” my brother objected.

“Really? With all the air rushing about as people pop in and out of the palace, and you thought I slept?” She turned to me and offered a huge grin. “It is good to see you, Casimir. Welcome home.” Then, without asking, she gave me a warm hug.

“Why is everyone hugging me?” I protested.

“Because you left us, and we are so glad you are safe.” She squeezed tighter. “I will not release you unless you hug me back.”

I reluctantly put my arms around her shoulders.

“See, that wasn’t so bad.” She released me with a laugh. “I am glad you are home, Casimir. Did you find what you were looking for?”

“I killed the elf I intended to kill.”

Avril instantly sobered, gazing up into my face as though looking for something. “Are you at peace?”

Considering that I successfully stopped the elf seeking to kill her, I was at peace with my actions. I would do anything to defend her and my brother. So, I met her gaze without flinching. “I am.”

She frowned as though she didn’t believe me, but Illeron pulled me away before she asked anything more.

That day I fell into a dream moments after falling asleep.

Constrained in the manacles, my magic inaccessible, I hang in my cage back in the magus’ workshop. Ever-present pain, my companion of three months, aches in my bones as my magic-starved body yearns for what it needs. I am dying, and I know it.

Yet, I don’t care.

Veta is there. She is my hope. I can see her huddled form, her black hair cascading over the blanket. Her breathing fills the room with its soft, peaceful rhythm.

Suddenly, the magus sweeps into the room. His face contorts in hatred. He howls a curse, the words harsh, grating on my ears. His stolen power rises, sharp as broken glass and bitterly familiar. Despite the power’s razor edges, my entire being longs to embrace it because it is mine. But before my eyes, the power changes. The edges turn deadly.

The magus meets my gaze through the bars.

“You withheld what I wanted, so I will take what you desire.” He grins. “Her life is mine.”

He utters a spell, compelling Veta to her feet.

She contorts painfully in her efforts to resist, but it’s useless. Her blanket falls away from her shoulders. Unprotected and alone, her eyes wide with horror, her bare feet skid across the floor as she struggles for purchase.

I throw myself against my restraints. They bite into my wrists. The sting of iron ripping at my skin is nothing compared to the agony in my chest.

“You were a fool to think you escaped your fate. A fool to think you might rescue her.”

Rage drives me to fling myself against my restraints. Dimly aware that all my efforts are futile, I don’t care. I can’t stop if she still lives. She is my hope. Without her, I will never be free.

Then she reaches the cloud of magic. With a cackle of glee, the magus unleashes my stolen magic.

Veta screams.

I woke with a jolt. Sweat covered me, drenching my tangled sheets. My heart raced as my chest heaved in great gasping breaths. I still heard Veta’s scream echoing through my mind as I stumbled from my bed.

Lurching to the window, I flung it open. The hot sun poured over the sill, warming my bare feet and making me sweat even more. The peaceful vista of manicured gardens spread out beyond my window contrasted sharply with the turmoil in my gut. Only then did I lift my hands to the light. The scars were still there—scabbed, angry welts where the manacles once bound me. They were my only reminder of the recent past. Just a few short weeks more and those would disappear too.

I closed my eyes only to immediately open them again. The image of Veta’s body, lifeless and bloodied, assailed me. Sleep would not come at this rate. Turning from the window, I crossed the room to my cast-off outer clothing. Maybe exercise would help.

∞∞∞

Veta

Three weeks had passed since my escape. Orin and I traveled with a group of families heading northwest. I had bartered for a place in their group. My cooking skills bought us each a portion of food and a site at the fireside within the protective circle maintained by the men of the group.

But our position within the camp was precarious. No matter how hard I worked or how exhausted I was, I woke every night screaming, always from the same dream. The nightmare forced me to watch Casimir torn to pieces by a strange beast with razor teeth. It made no sense.

So, when the head of the most prominent family approached me on the last evening of the third week, I knew what he intended to say.

“We will part ways tomorrow.” Master Loper removed his hat, baring his balding pate. He rotated it in his hands as he avoided my eyes. “We can’t keep this up. The children are having nightmares. The wife can’t sleep. We’re sorry you’re suffering so, but we must leave you behind.”

“I understand,” I assured him. “If I could understand what is causing it, I would happily correct it.”

“We are very sorry to see you go. Your cooking was quality.”

“I am sorry to part ways.” Avoiding his conflicted expression, I focused on my efforts to scrub the bread pan. I didn’t know how we were going to make our way by ourselves. We had no more money. The little Casimir had left us I spent weeks ago on warmer clothing and food.

“We will leave some provisions. All we can spare.”

I nodded. “Thank you.”

The man still didn’t meet my gaze. “I best be getting going,” he muttered as he pushed his hat down over his ears. “We move out first thing come morning.” With that, he walked off toward his family’s tent.

I resumed the washing-up.

“Why are they parting ways with you?”

My hands stilled at the sound of Casimir’s voice. Drawing in a deep, even breath to slow my quickened heart, I composed my face before I lifted it to meet his strange eyes.

“Are you hungry? The stew tonight wasn’t as popular as I expected. I have extra.”

He stood in the darkest shadows along the tree line. His coloring made him a shadow among shadows, but I instinctively knew his exact position.

“I could eat.”

I sank the last bowls in the dishwater to soak before picking up one of the dishes drying next to me. Crossing to the cooking pot, I scooped out the last serving of stew. Plucking a spoon from my apron pocket, I placed it in the bowl as I turned and almost collided with Casimir.

“Steady,” he murmured as his large hands enclosed my shoulders.

I savored the sensation.

For three weeks, I had dreamed that he was dead. I had grieved, despite knowing the dreams were only nightmares. Each day, I struggled to reassure myself that he lived. Now that he was here, I intended to soak in every moment, every reassurance that he was whole and well.

“Are you well?” he asked.

I lifted my face to him and offered him the dish of stew with a smile. “I am.”

He studied me silently for a while, as though memorizing my features.

“Do I have something on my face?” I asked, freeing a hand to swipe at my cheek. Occasionally, I would smear my face while cooking. Orin constantly teased me about it.

“Here.” Casimir’s fingertips brushed my cheek beneath my eye and then my chin. “Just a dusting of flour.” Then, he accepted the full dish.

“Veta!” Orin came tearing around the corner into the cooking area. We were closed off from the rest of the camp by a hanging tarp on a frame. One woman was pregnant, and her stomach grew queasy at the smell of cooking smoke.

Orin skidded to a stop and stared at Casimir. “You are back.”

The shadow elf smiled slightly. “Just visiting.”

“Great!” Orin flashed him a grin before turning his attention once again to me. “Kit’s father says that this is our last night with the group, and Kit wants me to sleep next to his family’s fire tonight. Can I?”

Unwilling to steal my brother’s last night with his friend, I nodded.

“Yay!” He gave Casimir a hasty bow. “Well met, master elf. Thanks again for rescuing my sister.” Then he bounded off.

“Someone should correct his understanding of the situation.” Casimir took a bite of the stew. “I didn’t rescue you. You rescued me.”

I shook my head. “We both know I would’ve never escaped without your help.”

He pressed his lips together but said nothing more about it. “What is your plan?”

“We are heading north.” I picked up a utensil to wash. “Orin’s father had family near where the warlord and woodwose region borders meet. They are on the human side of the river. I am hoping they will take us in. For Orin’s sake. He is the heir of his father’s portion of the land, and he can lay claim once he comes of age.”

“Why haven’t you gone there before now?”

I rinsed one of the last two bowls. “Mother didn’t part on friendly terms with his family. When she died last spring, our acquaintances made it clear to Orin and me that we had no familial connections in the south. Those we had counted friends turned their backs on us quickly enough when Mother fell ill and could no longer work.” I swallowed back the bitter memories, burying them in the past where they belonged. “Orin needs more than I can give him. He needs family.” I rinsed the second bowl. “We need family.”

“I have only one older brother.” Casimir stood close, offering his empty bowl for washing. “Our parents died.” I slipped the dish from his fingers, but he didn’t move away after I dipped it in the water. “Family is important,” he stated.

We stood there in companionable silence as I worked the surface clean and then dried it before placing it with the others in their crate.

“You can stay the night,” I offered. “I know you don’t sleep at night, but you can sit by the fire if you wish.”

“I might.”

Casimir stood there, still and comforting in the growing darkness. He turned his face toward the camp behind us, listening to the sounds of my traveling companions settling themselves. Even in the fading light, I sensed him there. Some of the tension in my shoulders eased. I didn’t wish for him to witness my nightmares as the others had. Waking screaming would demand answers, and I knew I couldn’t deny him the truth. The horrific dreams were about him. But, if I had to confess, I was thankful it would be waking to him being nearby. Somehow, I trusted him.

“Your presence would make them think twice about cheating me out of my pay and the promised provisions.”

He turned to study my features. “Why?”

I smiled cheekily. “Being on friendly terms with a creature of their nightmares has benefits.”

“I am not so frightening as that.”

I gazed at him, surveying his form, long and lean in the darkness. He stood close and the heat of him caressed my skin. To me, he had become familiar, safe. No one had made me feel safe since Orin’s father died, which is why I couldn’t bear for Casimir to think I feared him. I needed him to return again.

“Parents tell their children stories about shadow elves to terrify them into obedience. The people of this region have done it for generations.”

“Do you fear me?” He stepped closer, invading my senses. Casimir smelled of the night, cool, comforting, and mysterious. I wanted to lean into the warmth radiating from his skin.

I craned my neck to look up into the shadow where his face hid. “No.”

He bent his head so that his breath caressed my face. The savory scents of the stew wafted over me.

“Good,” he whispered.

My cheeks flamed with heat. Fighting back the desire to touch him and reassure myself he was really there, I drew in a deep breath. “I am finished clearing up. The fire is this way.”

Turning away, I set off toward the fireside, acutely aware of my silent shadow. Gathering my bedding from my gear, I spread it out near the fire. As I worked, Casimir added wood and built up the blaze. By the time I finished, he was settled on the opposite side of my blankets, away from the fire.

“Does the light bother you?” I inquired as I removed my shoes.

“No, but when so exposed, I prefer to be close to a shadow.”

“Understandable.” I pulled my knees to my chest and tucked my toes under the blanket. “Thank you for the gifts you left us before.” I slid my feet further beneath the cover. The night grew chilly, and the space between the blankets would require my body heat to warm. The quicker I settled, the sooner I would be comfortable. I glanced at my companion.

Casimir’s eyes shone in the firelight, almost like an animal’s, only not as bright. He stared resolutely into the flames, but I suspected he was minutely aware of all of us—the travelers, the animals, the creatures of the night moving about us, and the pacing of the man on watch. The flickering light played over his features, highlighting the planes of his cheeks, the dark sweep of his brows, the smooth expanse of his forehead under the shaggy fall of sable hair. He had cut his hair. It no longer obscured his eyes when he hung his head.

“Veta,” he said.

“Yes?”

He looked down at me, his enigmatic eyes softening now that he had turned away from the firelight. “Go to sleep. I will watch over you.”

“Thank you.” I slipped between the bedding layers and settled on my side, facing him. As usual, the labor of the day brought the oblivion of sleep quickly. That night, I did not dream of Casimir’s death.

∞∞∞

Chapter Five

Casimir

Weariness weighed on me like a heavy cloak. I closed my eyes for a moment, and sleep tried to pull me under. Three weeks of nightmares was finally taking a toll on me. Catching the few snatches of rest I could before the terror drove me from my bed each morning had sustained me. But they wouldn’t for long.

Despite the fear that I would wake in terror, I felt my body giving in to the need for rest. Only a few hours, I told myself as I stretched out on the ground. Sleep claimed me the moment my head touched the grass.

I woke hours before dawn. Blinking in the hazy changing of the light, my senses gradually awoke, and my awareness of my surroundings solidified. The watchman, a new one, paced the outer edges of the camp. He stomped his feet to stay awake. The animals stirred in their makeshift pen. The fire had died down to where only embers glowed among the ashes. Finally, I narrowed my focus to my companion and our interlaced fingers.

Veta still slept. Her dark lashes rested peacefully against her cheeks. As usual, she had cocooned herself inside her bedding, tucking the blankets around herself so tightly that no warmth escaped. However, this time, her hand had remained exposed.

Neither of us had moved closer in the night, but her hand and mine had found each other. Even now, with her relaxed in sleep, our fingers intertwined. Copper and pale cream. I considered them and mulled over what it might mean.

No nightmare had visited me in the night. That felt significant.

I had sensed no undue exhaustion in Veta the night before. Working hard brought weariness. She hadn’t mentioned nightmares or any adverse effects of our partial bonding. I took that as confirmation of what I had suspected. Being human, she had escaped the consequences that I suffered, mainly the disrupted sleep and nightmares. Now, I could cling to that comfort each day when I woke in a terror that she had died. I would survive lack of sleep. Mentally, I would combat the horror with reality. She was alive and well.

I would endure.

And when I couldn’t, I would seek her out. Her company seemed to be enough to soothe the chaos within me. It was enough. It had to be.

Without waking her, I extracted my fingers from her grasp and tucked her hand back under her blankets. I adjusted them so they covered her up to her nose, just as she liked it when she slept in captivity.

Rising, I slipped into the nearest fading shadow. Before I left, I would gather some more provisions for them. They would need them, considering her plans.

∞∞∞

Veta

I woke to the sensation of missing something. The camp was waking around me. Children laughing and squalling, horses protesting, and the usual chaos of the early morning hours.

“What is this?” Orin asked as he plopped down next to my side.

“Hmm?” I lifted my head to find a leather sack resting near my head. I knew instantly what I was missing. Casimir had left. I knew he had responsibilities and family, but still, my chest ached that he hadn’t stayed longer. “It’s probably another gift from Casimir.”

Sitting up, I felt for my shoes. After locating them, I shoved my feet into them while Orin started opening the satchel.

“Don’t.” I laid a hand over his. “Let’s open that after we have seen off our friends.”

“But—” His protest was cut off by his friend yelling his name.

To my relief, Orin gave in to distraction. He ran off, leaving me to gather my bedding and our new satchel of unknown provisions. I sincerely hoped that Casimir had been insightful in his generosity because the two of us wouldn’t survive without it.

Three hours later, we were alone. The caravan had left us an hour past sunrise, leaving only trampled grass, mud, and doused fires in their wake. The once crowded clearing now felt ominously empty. Still, I had been wary of traveling close in their wake. The suspicious looks I received that morning had been accompanied by whispers and murmuring behind hands. I caught at least one mention of me consorting with a monster. One woman purposefully stated in my hearing that nightmares were not the worst I would get if I kept company with shadow elves.

I rested my head against the tree trunk at my back and tried to push my worries from my mind. Despite my solid night’s rest, I still felt as though I were asleep on my feet. The shade of the oak was cool and the breeze refreshing. I longed for uninterrupted sleep, but none would come.

“Veta? Can we open it now?” Orin asked for perhaps the fifth time. “Surely no one will see now. Please?”

Rolling my head to the side, I regarded my brother sprawled on the grass. “You may unpack it.” He lunged for the pack. “Gently,” I admonished, too weary to move quickly.

Right under the flap was a waxed-paper package of dried fruit strips. Orin wiggled with delight as he smelled it. “Want one?” he asked.

“Perhaps later.”

Beneath the treat was a burlap bag of dried beans and a small pouch of seasonings. Two cloaks were under them. Thick and well made, they spilled over my lap as I pulled them forth. The smaller one would suit Orin perfectly now that the weather grew colder. However, the larger garment struck me as too voluminous and lengthy to suit me. I stood and swung the cloth around my shoulders, immediately struck by a wave of smells. The earthy essence of leather and wood laced with a subtle citrus scent enveloped me. I instantly knew why the cloak was too long. It was Casimir’s.

“There’s money too!” Orin held up the small leather pouch. “He left money again.”

“He is very generous.” I stroked the fine wool of the cloak around my shoulder. “Far too generous.”

“I don’t care what Kit or his father say. Shadow elves are not monsters.”

“Casimir is definitely not one,” I agreed. “Come, we need to distribute the weight across the satchels and get a move on. Darkness will come sooner than we wish.”

Two weeks later, I was no longer as confident we would make it to Orin’s father’s family before winter. After hiding from raiders twice and barely evading thieves intent on taking more than our hidden money, we finally found an abandoned hovel well off the beaten path. The roof leaked, but the walls were sturdy and offered shelter from the wind. We couldn’t stay the winter there, but it would work for shelter until I worked out our next move.

My nightmares had grown worse. I feared sleep. My hope was that the shelter would help. In our hovel, I didn’t have to worry about bringing robbers down on our heads with my screams. Getting enough rest between nightmares would help me think clearly again. Besides, Orin had turned his ankle the day before and needed to stay off it for a day.

Orin and I fixed the thatched roof as best we were able. Stuffing grass and mud in the cracks we found in the walls, we made the walls as windproof as possible. Then I sent Orin off to look for dry wood to burn for heat and cooking. It had been days since I had cooked a warm meal.

Meanwhile, I fetched water from the nearby stream to soak the beans in. I turned from hauling the second pail of water out of the stream to find Casimir standing in the shadow of a nearby fir tree.

Tall, dark, and stoic, he regarded me solemnly from shadow-ringed green eyes. Exhaustion marred his features, but nothing could’ve been more welcome. I stood ankle-deep in numbingly cold stream water, struggling not to break down in tears at the welcome sight of Casimir’s face.

I swallowed hard before forcing words past the emotions in my throat. “Will you want supper?”

He nodded once. Crossing to me, he took the pail from my cramping fingers. “We need to talk.” Then he started walking toward our little hovel.

Orin accepted Casimir’s appearance with his usual enthusiasm. He eagerly chattered about everything that had happened to us since we last saw him.

To my surprise, Casimir listened intently to Orin, asking questions and encouraging him to talk. I busied myself around the fire outside the hovel. Setting the beans to simmer in preparation for soup, I made the last of our barley into rolls for our supper. During a pause in the process, I sat on the boulder propped against the hovel. Resting my head against the wall, I watched the soup bubble.

Casimir appeared in the hovel’s doorway. Orin dashed past him and disappeared into the brush. The shadow elf didn’t even acknowledge the boy’s movement as his deep green gaze settled on me.

“Orin told me thieves wanted more than your money.” Casimir stated it flatly, but his eyes flared an intense hue of light green.

“They didn’t get it.” I blinked back tears, staring hard at the pot to avoid his gaze.

“I am glad.” He crossed to join me. As he settled, folding his long legs so he fit next to me, his shoulder bumped my arm and didn’t move away. “I suspect we have a serious issue.”

“What?” My exhaustion and inability to sleep weren’t his problems. Neither was the reality that Orin and my plans to reach his family by winter had become unrealistic.

“I can’t sleep.” Casimir’s statement hung in the air a moment. Then he continued, “Immediately after I fall asleep, I am plagued by reoccurring nightmares. I wake so disturbed by the dreams that I cannot attempt sleep again.”

That explained the shadows below his eyes and the haggard look to his features.

“The only time this did not occur was two weeks ago when I last visited you.” Casimir took a deep breath. “I plan to discuss this with my brother. Illeron has studied our histories more closely than I. He recently spent a great deal of time poring over the records of our past. His wife is human.” He stopped speaking suddenly, as though he had inadvertently said too much.

“So, he is trying to study shadow elf history?” I didn’t quite see how this connected to his brother’s wife being human.

“Elven history is his interest, not just light or shadow elves.”

“Why, since both of you are shadow elves?”

He frowned and turned to meet my gaze. “Illeron is a light elf.”

“How?” My brain struggled to process this new bit. I knew almost nothing about elves beyond the inaccurate lore of humans.

Humor lurked in his gaze, easing the grim lines. “We are the same species. Each elf born has the potential of being either type elf, regardless of the genetics of the parents or the gender of the baby. Their magic determines their skin color and skills. Though, there are few female shadow elves.”

“So, your brother is a light elf, and you are a shadow elf. It is normal.” My eyes lowered. I was so tired.

“Yes.” He laughed, low and soft. The next thing I knew, he was gathering me into his arms. “You need sleep.”

I tried to rouse myself. “But the soup.”

“I can cook soup and barley loaves. You need to sleep before we can have a sensible conversation.” Casimir stood, tucking my head into the curve of his shoulder. I sank into the comfort of his arms, nuzzling my cheek against his shirt front and the warmth beneath it.

“You are so warm.”

He didn’t respond. The fleeting sensation of him tucking me in was interrupted by Orin distantly asking why I was sleeping so early. Casimir’s response sounded fuzzy as dreamless sleep claimed me.

∞∞∞

Chapter Six

Casimir

Orin followed me back to the fireside and the simmering soup. The savory scents of seasoning rose from the pot, making my mouth water as I stirred. If the taste matched the smell, I didn’t understand why Veta had parted ways with the caravan two weeks back. Surely, they had been safer traveling with the families.

“How long are you staying?” Orin asked as he threw himself on the ground with a dramatic sigh.

“I am not certain.”

“I hope you stay awhile. Veta doesn’t scream in her sleep when you are here.”

I stilled. “What did you say?”

Orin frowned up at me. “She doesn’t have those nightmares when you’re here.” He grimaced. “They’re awful. She wakes up screaming and then cries. She tries to hide the tears, muffling them in her blanket and such, but they’re hard to miss after the screaming.”

My gut twisted.

“How long has she been suffering from the nightmares?”

The boy shrugged. “Since she escaped that nasty magic man.” He considered me seriously. “Are you staying tonight?”

I nodded. Considering this new information, I suspected I would stay with them longer than just one night. I had been operating under the assumption that I was the only one suffering. I had been blind.

Stirring the pot, I chastised myself for my arrogance. The evidence of her distress had been there. The signs of exhaustion were clear in retrospect—the dark, haggard shadows in her face, the unshed tears in her eyes, and her collapse into sleep. Anger quickly transitioned to worry.

Veta was human, and humans were fragile. It was a fact I had reminded my brother of daily when he courted his wife. Although I didn’t particularly wish to marry Veta, that didn’t mean I wanted her to die. She had saved my life, and it was costing her far more than I realized. I might live indefinitely in this state. She could not.

So as the meal cooked, I worked out a plan of action.

After feeding Orin and myself, I set aside food for Veta before cleaning up the cooking mess and banking the fire. Orin thanked me for dinner and settled in for sleep. I waited until his breathing slowed before waking Veta.

Gathering Veta from the floor, blankets and all, I carried her out toward the fireside.

“Casimir?” Her sleep-roughened voice signaled her awareness.

“Quietly,” I admonished. “Orin is sleeping.”

She let her head fall against my chest with a whispered, “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Taking care of us.” She rubbed her cold cheek against my shirt front. “You have done so much already.”

My heart immediately responded that it clearly hadn’t been enough. But I wasn’t willing to get sidetracked arguing over it.

“Why didn’t you tell me about your nightmares?” I asked as I settled her on the ground and tucked the blankets around her. Fetching her bowl of soup, I picked up the remaining roll. When I turned back to her, she was regarding me with concern.

“They aren’t your fault.”

I handed her the food before settling next to her with my back against the side of the building. “I am beginning to suspect they might be.” Bending my legs, I placed my forearms across my knees. “It can’t be a coincidence that we both suffer from them unless we’re near each other.” I rested my chin on my upper arm as I watched her eat. “Did your dreams worsen after my last visit?”

Mine had. Everyone in the palace knew I wasn’t sleeping well. My exhaustion had been impossible to hide. Even Illeron commented, and he was usually oblivious to anything beyond his work, research, and wife. Meanwhile, Avril had been bugging me with her quiet concern and insightful questions. As much as I liked her, she far too insightful.

“They did.” Veta avoided my gaze, studying her food instead. A tear landed in her soup. “I’m so glad they aren’t real.”

“Me too.” Everything in me wanted to comfort her, but I didn’t know how. “As I was saying before you fell asleep, I plan on consulting my brother about the situation, but I wanted to ask if you had any objection.”

“Why would I object? He might help us, right?”

“Hopefully, he can. I just wanted to make sure you are comfortable with me discussing our experience with him.”

“I am,” she quickly responded.

A comfortable silence settled between us as she ate. The fire crackled and popped, flickering a warm golden glow over her features.

“How long will you stay?” she asked.

I sensed the weight behind the question. I longed for uninterrupted slumber. Lingering with Veta and Orin was tempting. But I needed to speak with Illeron before searching for answers.

“Would you consider coming with me to my brother’s house?”

“After I take Orin to his family, I can. I promised my mother I would make sure Orin doesn’t miss out on his inheritance.” She paused. “Though, in truth, I fear that we cannot make it there before winter.”

“What is the hurry?”

She swallowed. “I cannot support Orin alone. We would’ve starved long before this were it not for your intervention.”

“Did you lose your position with the caravan because of the nightmares?” It clearly hadn’t been because of her cooking. Her skill had been overwhelmingly evident to my tongue both times I had sampled it.

She nodded. “I thought it would pass with time.” Her soft laugh barely reached my highly sensitive ears. “Apparently, I was wrong.”

“Are you finished eating?”

Veta nodded and prepared to rise, but I stalled her by claiming the bowl.

“Rest,” I admonished. “You need it.”

I busied myself with the washing and drying. “I will travel with you for a few days. With my skills, I can speed up your progress. I am limited, though. I can only take one of you with me at a time.”

“Any help will be welcome.” She yawned.

After dumping out the water and putting away the bowl and spoon, I turned back to find her half asleep again. I gathered her up, despite her feeble protests. “You will dirty your bedding,” I pointed out.

She ceased resisting as I stepped through the hovel doorway. Settling her back in the same place she had been before, I left her with the excuse that I had to check the fire. By the time I returned, she slept again.

I lingered in the open doorway, watching her rest against the right-hand wall. Orin was curled up against the opposite wall, leaving a gap between them wide enough for me to lie without touching either of them. The dirt floor would be hard and unforgiving, but I found I didn’t care. The prospect of a sound sleep was worth a few aches and pains. I wrapped myself in my cloak and settled between them, careful to tuck both of my hands securely beneath my covering to avoid another hand-holding incident.

Veta

I woke to the sound of rain—the steady plop of it leaking through the hole in the roof. More surprisingly, I felt warm for the first time in over a month. Only then did I slowly become aware that someone was holding my hand. I opened my eyes and turned my head to encounter the unexpected sight of Casimir’s sleeping face a few feet away. His long fingers entangled mine, but otherwise, he had kept his distance. Two feet of space lay between us.

In repose, the shadow elf’s features lost some of their intensity. The lines softened. He almost looked approachable, boyish. That struck me as odd. For all I knew, his boyhood had been centuries ago.

Content in the contact between us, I let sleep reclaim me.

Hours later, I woke to movement.

“Ugh, the bowl is wet,” Orin protested.

“Pack it anyway. When your sister wakes, we will come up with a plan.”

“Veta will just say we have to stay inside until it stops.” Orin sighed dramatically. “I hate rainy days.”

Pushing myself into a sitting position, I discovered Orin and the taller form of Casimir moving our satchels toward the center of the hovel.

“You are awake,” Orin observed with a grimace. “We didn’t get all the holes in the roof. It is leaking again, and now the cloaks are soaked.”

“Should I attempt fixing it?” Casimir asked. “Or do you wish to move on to where it might not be raining?”

“What do you mean?” demanded Orin. “The rain is going to go on for hours at this rate. We could walk all day and not reach the end of it. Besides, I hate the rain.”

“I know you don’t enjoy getting wet,” I pointed out to Orin. “You don’t need to announce it again.”

“I was telling Casimir,” he protested. “He doesn’t have to walk in the rain, so he doesn’t know better.”

Casimir’s amusement flickered in his eyes but didn’t reach his expression. “I travel in the rain frequently. I rarely find it pleasant.”

“Really?” Orin frowned up at him. “Don’t you just walk between the raindrops or something?”

“I wraithwalk, not air walk. The rain falls in the shadows almost as much as the light.” He glanced over at me. “Do you want to travel or remain here today?”

“Travel. We have even more incentive to move quickly,” I said.

Stretching the stiff muscles in my neck, I paused as a chill passed over me, and I shivered. It was strange how cold I felt after the warmth of my earlier waking. I glanced over to where Casimir was discussing the best plan for traveling together. Was there something more to his concerns about our nightmares? This connection between us both scared and comforted me. I delighted in his company and help. We desperately needed it. However, I feared how attached I was becoming to the sight of him. I wanted him to stay, but I was equally aware that he had more responsibilities than two ragamuffin peasants trying to survive. He was here to solve the problem of his nightmares. That was all. The need to keep my heart at a distance was pivotal to surviving his inevitable cutting off ties once we solved our issue.

Shoving aside my worries, I set to readying myself for travel. Within the hour, we were moving. Casimir set the pace. Taking Orin’s hand, he disappeared into the darkest corner of the hovel and was gone. For an hour or so, I puttered about clearing up the last of our camp before suddenly Casimir reappeared.

“We found the other side of the storm,” he announced calmly. “I left Orin in a dry cave just south of a river. He is filling the waterskins while I fetch you.” He offered me his dark hand, long-fingered and—I knew from experience—strong.

Picking up my share of the load, a satchel, I took Casimir’s hand. Instantly, I transitioned from feeling chilled to comfortable warmth. But before I commented on it, Casimir pulled me closer, rested a hand on my shoulder, and took a step. The world flickered, warping and shifting. Unlike before, this time, I clearly saw the mind-bending changes as we stepped from one shadow to the next.

“Breathe, Veta,” Casimir whispered in my ear as we took another step and another location jumped into solidity around us. “We are going to be walking for a while. You need to breathe.”

I obeyed, but it helped little with the strange panicky sensation in my chest. “How far can you travel in a day?”

“Plotting how to take advantage of my abilities?” he asked.

“Just curious.” We walked in silence. I caught glimpses of rain-drenched trees, hills, plains, and rivers before I spoke again. “Will your brother miss you?”

“Perhaps. I suspect not. Work frequently keeps me away for days at a time.”

Questions flooded my mind. There was so little I knew of his life. “What do you do for work?”

He hesitated. The hand on my shoulder tensed slightly. “I gather intel for my brother.”

“On whom?”

“Magus lamias, warlords, kings, gargoyles, all the powerful masters of their domains. Frequently, my brother sends me when the situation is nuanced or requires great care. Otherwise, I hand the assignments out to the other shadow elves.”

“So you are high in the hierarchy?”

“Secondary only to my brother in his household. My brother answers to the northern elven king.”

“Your brother Illeron?” I asked.

“I have no other.”

“What does your brother do with the information you gather?”

“He seeks peace among our species and other species. Safeguarding the naturally magical species from the grasping of the magus lamias is also key.”

“What about safeguarding the undefended humans from the culling and enslaving? The village I was captured in is hardly uncommon. Orin and I have been running from being taken for most of our lives.”

“We are not elves of war, Veta.”

Discomfort settled over me. “If I hadn’t been the key to your escape, would you have acted to free me?”

Uneasy quiet fell between us. “Most likely not. We are trained to observe, not act.”

I nodded my understanding.

When we arrived at Orin’s location, he sat in the sunlight right outside the cave opening. Our filled waterskins lay on the ground next to him. Scrambling to his feet when we arrived, he grinned. “There are fruit trees over there. I picked you both some apples.”

He offered me and then Casimir a red orb. I accepted mine. The elf accepted the gift initially, but the moment my brother turned away to gather up the satchel and waterskins, Casimir wordlessly tucked it into my pocket.

“Are you ready to move forward?” he asked Orin. Then the pair of them left, disappearing into the darkness of the cave.

I settled in the sunlight with my apple, trying to fight off the chill that had settled in my bones the moment Casimir had left.

∞∞∞

Chapter Seven

Casimir

Veta’s question bothered me the whole hour-long journey to the next stopping place. This would be our camping place for the day. Carrying companions with me while wraithwalking drained my ability more quickly. I didn’t wish to risk getting caught in a difficult situation and being unable to take Orin and Veta with me when I attempted an escape.

Orin waited in our new hideout, a shadow elven scouting shelter, as I returned for Veta. Arriving in the cave near where I left her, I heard voices.

“What are you doing here?” a male demanded gruffly.

“You going to pay for that apple you’re eating?” a second asked.

“Search her. She’s probably carrying more.”

“I will show you what happens when thieves pick from my trees.”

I didn’t hesitate. Manifesting my dragon-steel short sword from where I stored it in a magically folded space across my shoulders, I gathered wispy strands of darkness around me. Obscuring my features in a spell of darkness, I took on my shadow form. So donned, I stepped out of the dimness of the cave like an avenging nightmare.

A burly farmer with a gut hanging over his belt had a beefy hand wrapped around Veta’s forearm as he shook her. His companion, a slightly thinner man with narrow shoulders that didn’t match his fleshy frame, egged him on.

“Show her what for!” he crowed in a high voice. “She won’t steal from us again after this.”

“I will drag you before the magistrate and have him chop off your hands for your crime.” The beefy man uttered a slur at Veta and spat in her face.

Anger flared and every part of me screamed to maim the farmer for laying a hand on Veta. The ruffians were so distracted by harassing Veta that they hadn’t noted my approach.

I circled behind the larger man and rested my sword’s flat against his shoulder with the sharp edge toward his throat. As the metal touched him, I growled in his ear. “Unhand her, or I will remove your head.”

“Wraithwalker!” The narrow-shouldered friend regarded me with gaping mouth and bulging eyes before he squeaked, turned tail, and ran for his life.

The man before me froze, still gripping Veta’s upper arm.

“Last warning.” I eased around to face the man, sliding my sword around with me so that the cold steel caressed his throat. His neck bobbed as he swallowed hard. “Let her go.”

His knees knocked as he eased his fingers free. Veta collapsed in a heap at my feet. She didn’t move.

With clearly less sense than the average human, the farmer attempted to speak. “Ap-p-pologies, Wraithwalker.”

“Leave,” I hissed at him.

He tripped over himself in his haste. Scrambling in the dirt, he kicked up a cloud of dust as he picked up speed. Within a minute, he was out of sight.

I didn’t wait for him to disappear before I put away my sword and dropped my shadow form. Veta trembled but didn’t move toward me. Crouching down to her level, I reached out to touch her shoulder.

“Veta?” I asked hesitantly.

“Is he gone?” she asked.

“Long gone. Are you whole? Did they hurt you?” I brushed her shoulder, wishing I could heal her as easily as my brother would’ve been able to.

“Some bruises. They will heal.” She hid her face from me, but I heard the tears in her voice.

Kneeling in the dirt, I dragged her into my arms. Veta protested slightly, shoving weakly at my shoulder once before relaxing against me. I started striding toward the cave.

“My satchel,” she said.

“I want to make sure you are well first.”

“I will heal. Please! The satchel is irreplaceable.”

I grimaced. To her, it was. The scouting hideout was full of supplies twice to ten times superior to what was in that bag, but I understood her reaction to the possibility of leaving it behind. The pouch meant the difference between survival and starvation to her. She didn’t know that I had no intention of letting her ever go hungry again.

I walked back to the satchel, set her down long enough to pick up the bag and hand it to her, and then swung her back up into my arms. As soon as we were within the cave, I started wraithwalking.

Four steps on, when we appeared beneath the shade of a large pine in the heart of a densely wooded area, I stopped and set her on a mossy mound beneath a tree. Only then did I start checking her over.

Her body was whole. She flinched when I touched her upper arm. By the reaction, I suspected it was bruised but unbroken. Then, I caressed her cheek, easing her face up so I could see all of it. A dark bruise darkened her left cheek where someone had hit her, and blood crusted her bottom lip where it had split. The sight made me sorely tempted to wraithwalk back to those farmers and relieve the large one of his hands for hurting her.

Something in my expression must have betrayed my uncharacteristically strong reaction because she pulled free from my shock-loosened grip and turned away.

Berating myself for not moving fast enough, I put my energy into taking care of her instead of murdering the culprits. After dropping the satchel next to her, I dug through it for a cloth. Finding one, I pulled out her waterskin and dampened it. I rose to find she had retreated to the far side of the tree. She turned away when I approached.

“I am sorry.”

That brought me up short. “Whatever for?”

“I should’ve waited in the cave.” She swiped at her unbruised eye. “It was just—the sun was so warm. And I didn’t hear them approach. They snuck up on me.”

“Shh,” I whispered, approaching cautiously. “Here, let me wash your lip.”

With apparent reluctance, she allowed me to approach. “Orin stole those apples. I’m such a fool sometimes.”

I shook my head as I washed away the smeared blood. “It isn’t your fault. Even if Orin picked the apples from their tree, that doesn’t give them the right to hit you or threaten you. Two apples don’t make a harvest.”

“But—”

“No.” I gazed deep into the stormy gray of her luminous eyes and tried to will understanding into them. “For all they know, you were starving. No amount of rationalizing justifies the punishment of a woman who has picked two apples from an unmarked tree.” I stroked her cheek. “We don’t even know that they owned the tree that the apples came from.” I brushed her forehead with a kiss. “Now, Orin will grow worried if we don’t arrive on time.”

I turned away to resist the urge to do more and focused on cleaning off the rag. When I turned back, Veta had repacked the satchel and was adjusting it to hang across her body. The sight of her took my breath away. When had she become so precious that I felt incredible guilt in admitting I would have looked the other way in the magus lamia’s workroom if she hadn’t been my source of freedom? Why did it bother me so much that I had almost lost her to a couple of bullies?

“Ready?” she asked.

I nodded. “Orin awaits us.” Gathering her now-familiar form into my arms, I stepped into the shadows. To my surprise, she didn’t protest my decision to carry her. Instead, she slipped her arm across my shoulders and rested her forehead against the side of my neck. She quit shivering soon after.

∞∞∞

Veta

My dependence on Casimir’s presence was concerning. Resting my face against his neck so we had skin-to-skin contact reduced the symptoms that had appeared the moment he had left me outside the cave. Shaking, bone-numbing cold, and the inability to run were disconcerting enough without the strange, sudden relief that occurred when Casimir reappeared.

His scent, a mixture of leather, wood, and citrus, filled my nose as my eyes closed. He radiated warmth and a odd sense of security. My impulse was to snuggle closer and relax into his arms.

“I left Orin in a shadow elf scouting shelter. I need to rest and restore my reserves.” Casimir bypassed a wall, then stepped through a doorway, and into a new shadow on the other side. “The shelter is safe, dry, and secure. Perfect for you two to stay in while I return to Illeron tonight. I must consult him on our situation.”

“Does carrying two take more out of you than only transporting yourself?”

“It takes almost double the effort.” He tilted his head slightly. “Except for now, strangely.”

“Why do you need to speak with Illeron?”

“To warn him that I won’t be returning for a while.” He grimaced. “He and Avril, his wife, made a great fuss about me not always returning as expected.”

“They care.”

He huffed softly. “Avril has made Illeron softer in some areas.”

“Does she make him happy?”

“Disgustingly so.”

I laughed softly. “Is she happy with him?”

“By all the indicators I have been told to watch for, yes.”

“What indicators would those be?” I was curious what an elf might consider indicators for a human’s happiness.

“She is healthy, laughing regularly, and reasonably cheerful. She smiles a lot, especially when she is provoking him.” He considered something for a moment. “Illeron spends a great deal of time grinning like a fool.”

“Then it sounds like a good match.” I considered his grim expression. “You don’t agree?”

“I never considered the prospect of my brother marrying anyone other than another elf. Now that he has chosen a human, I am concerned about the inevitable.”

“Inevitable what?”

“Her death and his deep bereavement.” Pain flickered in his expression for a fleeting moment. “Our mother died before our father. When she did, he became a different man, bereft and adrift. For a decade or so he took a companion, marrying her according to the human fashion, but it wasn’t enough. When she passed, he followed not long after.”

“How long do elves generally live?”

“We can expect hundreds of years should nothing devastating befall us. I am a century and a half old. My brother one and three-quarters centuries. Our father was five hundred and forty-three when he died, but our grandmother lived to be seven hundred. Illeron and I believe that grief shortened our father’s life by stealing his will to live.”

“And you fear the same will happen to your brother?” I asked.

He nodded, his chin brushing the top of my head. “I tried to reason with him, but he was deaf to my pleas.”

I smiled despite myself. “So, elves aren’t that different from humans.”

“How so?”

“My mother refused to listen to her family when they told her marrying Orin’s father would be foolish. He was from the far north, estranged from his family despite being their only heir, and a stranger to the area. She told me frequently that he made her happy, and that was reason enough for marriage.”

“Do you agree with her that happiness is enough?”

I shrugged slightly. “Not really. Although they were content for a while, his past caught up with him. Only a dozen years after marrying, some strange men tracked him down and killed him, killing my mother with him.”

“It sounds more like his past was the problem, not their relationship.”

“True, but it was still too soon to tell if the foundation would’ve remained firm through the years or not.”

He appeared to consider this gravely. “And you? What do you require for marriage?”

I weighed my words. “I never thought to marry, but should I, I would require at least friendship.”

“An adequate answer.”

“And you?”

“I would marry only out of necessity.”

I lifted my head from his shoulder and peered up at his features again, squinting in the ever-changing shadows as he walked. “Do you not want companionship?”

“That doesn’t come into consideration at all. I’m choosing not to burden anyone with my constant company. I tend toward bluntness, which most female elves find offensive. Also, I don’t respond emotionally in a way females seem to require. In a word, I am defective. Inadequate in the areas of my personality required for romantic relationships.”

Resting my forehead against his neck once more, I breathed deeply of his essence. “I don’t agree with your assessment.”

“I am surprised. Our earlier conversations should’ve dissuaded you from taking an idealistic view. You appeared displeased that I wouldn’t have intervened if you hadn’t been the means to my freedom.”

“I didn’t agree then either.”

He was silent. His measured breathing never changed as he walked. I found the regularity comforting. Nuzzling closer, I savored the warmth radiating from him.

“I fear for your sanity,” Casimir finally stated. “Your conclusion is illogical.”

I laughed softly. “Ah, but that is because I am human, not elf. I use more than just logic in my decision-making.”

He clearly didn’t like my response, but our arrival at our destination cut off any opportunity to continue the conversation.

∞∞∞

Chapter Eight

Casimir

I waited to leave until Veta and Orin slept, both because I traveled faster at night and so they wouldn’t protest my leaving. Not that Veta ever really complained about anything I did.

She was a strange creature. Accepting my presence as a matter of course, she appeared to not mind my appearance, unconventional skills, or even my more dangerous abilities which I demonstrated when confronting the farmers who threatened her. Each new skill or danger that I manifested she seemed to accept with mild interest. No fear or disgust ever crossed her face or marred her manner, which differed greatly from the usual reactions I evoked in humans.

In addition, our conversation that day had been very revealing. She lacked the levity of Avril, but I found myself drawn to her practicality. Also, her ability to not be offended at my bluntness helped. If this trend continued, I might give in and call her a friend.

At morning light, when I finally emerged in my brother’s garden, I found another shadow elf already lingering in the shadowed alcove near the pavilion.

Favian lifted his head from his contemplations to offer me a weary smile. “The prodigal returns again.”

I nodded to him before scanning the gardens beyond the alcove. Avril sat on the steps of the pavilion, glowing with health and happiness as she chatted with my brother’s head gardener, a gnome named Gnoble. She threw back her head and laughed. Her dark auburn hair took on a red glow in the sunlight. According to Avril, Gnoble possessed a witty repertoire.

I had never observed the attribute in the gnome, but then, I rarely invoked others’ senses of humor.

A short distance away from them, Illeron and another of his shadow elves conversed. My brother’s spare form radiated intensity as he focused intently on the exchange, his hands punctuating his point and his dark curls bouncing when he nodded. He and I kept our hair cropped unfashionably short for elves. It was a practical choice. Many other shadow elves followed suit, but a few wore it long and flowing down their backs.

Favian broke our silence. “Odon has just returned from the Seelie court. The king has been cursed again. The Unseelie are ravaging the borders of the human kingdoms in the far north, and His Majesty wants a solution found quickly. Anything to reduce the casualties.”

I frowned. The Wild Hunt made all elves, Seelie, and Unseelie lose reputation with the human population since most humans couldn’t seem to tell us apart. Subtle differences required close association to detect. Unlike the brownies, gnomes, and sprites, all three of our races avoided being observed by humans. Partially because of the groveling that usually followed for the Seelie and the light elves like my brother. Though revulsion or fear were the more typical reactions for the Unseelie and shadow elves.

“He will probably wish to speak to you before hearing my report. We have been on the watch for your return since you left. Your six-month-long disappearance really shook him up.”

I frowned at my brother’s bright form. “I don’t know why. This isn’t the first time I have been gone so long, and I always return.”

“I suspect it is because of Lady Avril.” Favian nodded toward the woman with a smile. “She places great value on family, especially siblings, and asks after you often.”

As flattered as I was that she cared to check in on me, I was reluctant to be so closely monitored. I enjoyed my freedom. Strangely, I was also comfortable with my inexplicable connection with a small, dark-haired woman currently in the warlord-controlled wilds of the midlands.

“Casimir!” Illeron strode toward me with a welcoming smile on his face. My brother had always been more demonstrative than I was, even when we were children. Behind him, Odon disappeared into the shadow beneath the rosebushes. Favian bowed to both of us and stepped away as well. Unlike Illeron, I couldn’t tell where he had gone, but I suspected it wasn’t far. I stepped out into the sunlight to greet my brother.

“Illeron.”

His grin widened. “I hoped you would stop by soon.”

“I have some matters on which I need your advice,” I admitted.

“And I have news.”

“Oh?” I glanced at Avril and then back at him. “Is she well?”

“Avril is fine. Well, actually, she is better than fine. She is with child and is finally past the nauseous phase of pregnancy. I have Merlon stopping by tomorrow for an exam and consult.”

“Are you concerned about the risks?”

Puzzled, Illeron’s brows lowered. “What do you mean? She is healthy, and we are happy. She isn’t the first to carry a half-human and half-elf child.”

“Still, humans are—”

“—fragile,” he groaned. “You are constantly reminding me. They are, but human women carry children all the time too.”

“And some die of it.”

“What is wrong with you lately?” Illeron’s query contained no heat, just concern.

I closed my eyes and attempted to calm whatever emotion was swirling through me. “I require your expertise regarding uneven elven bonding.”

Illeron paled. “What have you done?”

I described my experiences from the moment I left Avril at the beginning of my six months away and ended with the escape from the magus’ lair.

“So, you used a modified elven marriage vow to overwrite the magus’ bonding spell.”

I nodded. “I had the human slave speak the female half of the oath in elvish because I thought the fact that she was human would stop the bond from taking.”

Illeron’s eyes narrowed as he regarded me suspiciously. “Humans are just as capable of being constrained by binding as any other species. Only shikari are immune to magic.”

“But she has no magic of her own. How can she bind herself to me if I didn’t complete the binding?”

“She didn’t use her nonexistent magic. The binding spell used your magic to bind her lifeforce to you.”

A terrible realization dawned on me. “That means…” It was too horrific to speak aloud, but Illeron had no such qualms.

“She is dying since your lifeforce wasn’t bound to her in return.”

“I have to leave immediately.”

But before I could step toward the closest shadow, Illeron caught my arm. “Bring her here. Stay in constant skin contact and bring her straight here. Meanwhile, I will research the best way forward.”

I nodded. “I need to take another shadow elf with me. She has been traveling with her much younger brother, and I cannot leave him behind.”

“Take Favian.” Illeron summoned the elder shadow elf using a spell. “He will know how to manage a young human male.”

I nodded. After a brief conversation, Favian and I headed back toward where I had left Veta and Orin. As I raced from shadow to shadow, I prayed that we would reach them in time. I didn’t want Veta to pay for my freedom with her life.

When I stepped into the hideout, I was instantly bombarded by Orin’s hysterical pleas. He knelt over Veta’s prone form, begging her to wake. At the sight of me, hope dawned on his face.

“Casimir!” He threw himself at me. “She is so cold, and she won’t open her eyes.”

Carefully untangling myself from his arms, I guided him toward Favian, who had just stepped from the shadow behind me. “Orin, this is my friend Favian.”

Then, not waiting for his response, I moved toward Veta. Behind me, the two of them made their introductions.

In some ways, Veta looked normal curled up in her usual bundle of blankets. But she was strangely still beneath them. Her face lay unnaturally pale against the halo of her tangled midnight hair, and her lips were blue except for the healing remnant of her cut lip. The sound of her heartbeat—weak but steady—threaded through the cacophony of my own as I struggled to calm my panic. She wasn’t dead.

Mindful of my brother’s advice, I reached out to touch the only bit of skin not buried in blankets, her face. Clammy and cold, the softness beneath my fingertips didn’t stir in response. Her shallow breathing remained the same. She didn’t open her stormy gray eyes. Something within her was draining her life away.

“Does she live?” Favian asked.

I glanced around to find the two of us alone.

“I sent the boy to fetch some water.” Favian regarded Veta gravely. “She is a tiny thing.”

A part of me rose up and demanded I establish she was mine, but I shoved it aside.

“I think I should try to rouse her before we travel. Could you ask Orin to pack the satchels when he returns?”

Favian nodded and then disappeared into the shadow near the door.

I returned my full attention to Veta. Although my hand hadn’t moved since first touching her cheek, the skin beneath remained cold and clammy. Clearly, more skin contact was needed.

“Veta?” I whispered as I began untangling her blankets with one hand so I maintained contact with the other. “Remember how I mentioned my brother, Illeron? I told him about you. He wants to meet you, but he can’t unless you wake up.”

Beneath her blankets, she huddled fully clothed, including the cloak I had given her. Then, under that, she had curled into a tight ball with her fisted hands tucked beneath her chin and her knees pulled in close. My heart ached at her apparent ineffective efforts to get warm.

“Caris, you should’ve told me that you were cold. I would’ve never left you if I had known.”

Finally uncovering her hands, I eased them from under her chin. Abandoning her cheek for her fingers, I focused my attention on warming them, rubbing and working them slowly out of their tight fists.

“You will like Illeron,” I told her. “He is far nicer than I am. He laughs and smiles more than me. Though, he is bossy. It’s probably because he is the king’s spymaster and commands many shadow elves. That kind of thing makes one bossy, I suppose.”

Once I stretched one of her hands straight again, I lifted her up and cradled her against my chest. Tucking her hand inside my shirt, I pressed its iciness against my side, freeing my hands to work on the other limb without worrying about breaking skin-to-skin contact.

I continued chattering. Anything to keep my mind off the way her head lolled against my arm like a rag doll instead of snuggling there as she had before. I eased the other hand free of its fist and tucked it in with the first, but she still wasn’t responding. Catching her head, I cradled it against my shoulder so I could look down into her features. Delicate brows framed her eyes, which were unnaturally still beneath their lids. Was that a soft warming to her coloring or my desperate hope for a sign of life? I ran my thumb across her cheek. It did feel warmer and less clammy.

“You need to wake, caris. You must wake and save me again. Save me from living with the guilt should you die. Please.”

I wanted to force my magic through her, shock her into waking, but I suspected doing so would cause more damage than help. She didn’t need my magic. She needed to share my lifeforce, but I dared not complete the ceremony. Doing so would set the spell, and if something was wrong with it, there would be no undoing it. And if that mistake cut her off from my lifeforce, she would die.

I frantically reviewed my memories of the ceremony. Elven spells usually contained three parts. Two spoken parts and a token. The elven marriage ceremony comprised spoken vows and then the kiss. Without the balance of both spoken parts, the kiss wouldn’t work as the seal intended, but it would bridge the gap between us that prevented me from helping her.

Without further thought to the implications, I drew her face closer and kissed her.

Her lips were soft and pliable but cold. I shuddered at the temperature. Accessing my magic, I attempted to force the partial link between us to accept this gesture as the token and allow a way for her to access my lifeforce. The magic reluctantly complied. Veta’s lips slowly warmed as I forced part of my lifeforce through the tenuous link. I sensed the exact moment she began to wake and withdrew.

“Casimir?”

I never found the sight of her gray eyes so wonderful as at that moment. “Warm?”

She nodded and burrowed against me, nuzzling against my chest. “Thank you. I have been having such a struggle to stay warm lately.”

Guilt prodded me. But I couldn’t bring myself to confess yet. Even more worrisome was the fact that the link I had established between us had cut the moment I stopped kissing her. We were on borrowed time before I drained too much from her again.

“My brother would like to meet you.”

She frowned sleepily up at me. “Why would an elven spymaster wish to see me?”

“I told him about us, our escape from the magus, and your difficulty staying warm. He has a theory as to how to help us.”

She yawned and blinked. “But what about Orin’s inheritance?” she asked distantly.

“I promise, no matter what happens, Orin will get a chance to claim his inheritance. If anything, you can make your petition to Illeron. I suspect having a spymaster and a host of shadow elves at your back will only strengthen your claim on his behalf.”

She smiled and nodded. “May I go to sleep now?”

“Yes. I will carry you, and Favian will see your brother is safe.”

“Favian?” Confusion marred her expression.

“At your service, my lady.” Favian stepped out of the shadows and bowed to her. “We restocked the wood and water supplies for the next occupants. Orin informs me that all the satchels are packed already. We can leave when you and the lady are ready.”

“Go ahead of us. We will be right behind you,” I ordered.

Favian nodded and disappeared. Moments later, I heard him explaining the plan to Orin, who eagerly agreed. “The elven spymaster? Will we see more shadow elves? Can I talk to them?”

I didn’t hear Favian’s response, but I did hear Veta’s murmured, “I am not a lady.”

“But you are Veta, and that is better.” I pressed my lips to her forehead, attempting to re-establish the connection, but to no avail.

∞∞∞

Chapter Nine

Veta

Casimir radiated warmth and security, but every time I caught a glance of his face, my concern grew. Not since we were in captivity had his brows dipped so low over his nose or his mouth tightened so severely. Even then, it had been tempered by pain.

Despite my concern, I fell asleep again. Whether it was because I was finally warm or just tired, Casimir’s arms were comfortable and his stride lulling. Almost no time seemed to pass before he woke me by whispering my name.

I opened my eyes to find I rested on an elegant couch in a beautifully appointed room surrounded by wealth beyond my wildest dreams. Clean hard wood floors, luxurious curtains, and glass windows declared I was in foreign world. Parchment, ink, books, so many luxuries.

“She is awake,” Casimir informed a tall man behind him. At least I thought he was a man until he turned his head, offering a clear view of his pointed ear tips hiding in tousled brown curls. His paler skin indicated he was a different kind of elf than Casimir.

“Inform Waldorf that it is time to serve the meal,” the light elf told a shadow elf with silver-streaked hair.

The strange shadow elf bowed and disappeared in a soft whoosh of displaced air.

“Don’t mind the sound,” a new voice advised. “They all do it constantly, as though walking to the kitchen is too much hassle.” An auburn–haired beauty came around the end of the couch and flashed me a smile. “My name is Avril. I am Illeron’s wife.” She motioned to the light elf.

Casimir stood a short distance away speaking with the light elf, and Orin was nowhere to be seen.

“Where is my brother?”

“We sent him to the kitchen. When I asked if he was hungry, he declared he was ravenous.” She smiled. “We will feed you too in a few minutes. I suspect Illeron wants to speak with you first.”

“I do.” The light elf smiled affectionately at his wife before turning to me with a more severe expression. “My name is Illeron.”

I nodded, straightening in my place on the couch. It was strange to be conversing with such a powerful elf while reclining on his couch. “I am Veta.”

“It is a pleasure to meet the woman who rescued my brother from certain death.”

“It was hardly that,” I protested.

“We would beg to differ.” Then before things got awkward, Illeron continued. “Casimir says you have been experiencing strange symptoms since your escape.”

I met Casimir’s stoic regard around his brother’s shoulder. When had he noticed? “Yes, I have found it increasingly difficult to stay warm, and when we aren’t near each other, we both experience nightmares.”

“He has also noted your growing exhaustion.”

“She was unresponsive when I went to fetch them.” A slight flush tinged his cheeks. “I offered a token to bridge the gap between us so I could supplement her waning lifeforce and revive her.”

Illeron’s eyebrows rose as he glanced over his shoulder. “What token?”

“A kiss.”

I stared at him. Casimir had kissed me, and I had missed it. He avoided my gaze, choosing to meet his brother’s instead. Did he regret it? I wondered.

“The token—” Casimir began.

“You mean the kiss,” Illeron corrected with a smirk.

Casimir rolled his eyes. “The kiss only created a temporary bridge. The bridge is gone again now.”

Illeron’s humor dissipated instantly. “That explains a great deal. My impression is that her life force is still draining slowly. She will need a permanent solution and soon. The best elven healer in Eldarlan is arriving in an hour to examine Avril.” He reached out and caressed his wife’s hand. “We can ask him to examine the two of you as well and suggest feasible solutions. Though you two should prepare yourselves for the possibility that restarting and completing the ceremony might be the only solution.”

“What is the ceremony for?” I asked.

“Marriage.” Illeron’s piercing gaze studied my face in surprise. “Didn’t he tell you?”

“I didn’t mention marriage.” Casimir took a step toward me as though petitioning for something.

“You warned me about being linked for life. I also recall something about my lifeforce being joined with yours.”

“This wasn’t my intention,” he protested in frustration. “I never meant to hurt you.”

“Interesting,” Illeron muttered. “Come, Avril. I suspect these two need a moment.”

Avril smiled. “Exactly my thought. We will have the meal served in the dining room when you have finished.” She patted my shoulder before moving to Illeron’s side. “Besides, I have something to show you,” she said to her husband as she led him from the room.

No sooner had the door closed behind them than Casimir spoke. “I am sorry.”

Sitting up the rest of the way, I swung my feet off the couch and attempted to stand. Much to my frustration, my knees immediately gave out. Casimir moved in a blink. His arm came around my back, lifting me up against him, so my feet dangled inches from the floor and I could look nowhere but up into his perceptive gaze.

The green flared brighter than the silver as he studied my features. “I meant it. Our escape was never intended to trap you. Since you are a human, I thought it wouldn’t take. I was dying.”

Reaching up, I pressed my fingers over his mouth to still his frantic words. When he quieted, I removed my hand. “You set out enough parameters and warnings to make the risks clear. Despite the lack of the word marriage, I understood the risk of lifelong joining between us, and I agreed. It was worth it for you not to die. No matter what happens, you set me free. I get to see Orin grow up, and I will live longer than I would’ve in captivity. If your brother and the healer come up with a solution, all will be well.”

“And if the solution is marriage to me?”

I looked up into his face. The emotions in his piercing green-and-silver eyes consistently betrayed the stoic lines of his features. He tried so hard to protect me from everything, even himself.

I caressed his cheek. “In my nightmares, I am trying to save you, not run from you.”

He closed his eyes and leaned into my hand. “Very illogical of you.”

I laughed. “Not so. I gain every advantage. It is you who is being taken advantage of.”

He abruptly set me on my feet. Waiting until I wouldn’t collapse again, he released me, breaking contact for the briefest of moments before bracketing my face gently with his large hands. Lacing his fingers through my hair, he caressed my cheeks with his thumbs. He bent and rested his forehead against mine and closed his eyes. “How can you be so blind?”

Savoring his warmth, I frowned. “Blind to what?”

“To shadow elf reputation, the fact many consider us soulless. Even elves have accused me of being my brother’s personal assassin.”

Before he finished speaking, I was shaking my head. “I know you well enough to ascertain you are not the villain in this exchange. There is no evidence.”

He groaned deep in his throat and then kissed me fiercely.

∞∞∞

Casimir

She tasted of night and acceptance, a heady combination. Once I began kissing her, I discovered I didn’t wish to stop. The distant logical part of me performed the same operation as before. I kissed her for a purpose. It opened the connection between us, so I could siphon life into her. No sooner had I begun, than she distracted me by kissing me back.

She gripped my forearms for balance. Her small hands tensed as she stabilized on her toes, following my startled flinch backward. Threading a hand up through my arms, she wrapped her surprisingly strong fingers around the back of my head and pulled me back to her.

Sometime later, someone cleared their throat. I glanced over my shoulder to find Ergon standing just inside the study door. He had abandoned his usual aloofness for an amused expression. “Dinner awaits you and the lady in the dining room, and the healer has finished his examination of Lady Avril. Illeron requests the two of you join them.”

“Ergon, this is Veta.” I guided Veta around to meet my brother’s house manager.

“Pleased to meet you, Lady Veta,” he responded with a gracious bow.

“And you.” She offered him a warm smile. “Please call me Veta. I am no lady.”

“I am sorry, my lady, but I am under express orders to address you as such.” The light elf projected helplessness so well. I almost rolled my eyes at the act.

“In that case, I accept the moniker.” Veta eyed me fleetingly as though assessing whether I was the source of the order.

“Most likely my brother’s instruction,” I informed her.

“Then, I will need to speak to him.”

“If you will follow me,” Ergon suggested, “I will lead you to where he and Lady Avril are entertaining the healer, and you can address the matter directly.”

“Thank you, Ergon.” She smiled at him but didn’t release her hold. “I am not very steady on my feet at the moment.”

“I will escort you,” I immediately told her. Moving her so she stood at my side, I slipped her hands into a firm grip on my arm and placed my hand over them, holding them firmly in place.

Veta gamely took a step only to wobble. I claimed her hand in my left and slipped my right around her waist as though we were dancing. The extra support appeared to be enough. Her next step was much steadier, but that didn’t ease my concern about her weakness. Considering how much life force I had poured into her only a few moments ago, she should’ve been almost normal. Disquiet coiled in my chest. We might not have much time. Hopefully, the healer would help.

The dining table, comprised of twisting roots grown up to support a massive smooth wooden slab, dominated the center of the room. When we entered at Ergon’s beckoning, all three occupants rose from chairs to greet us. Illeron kept a hand on Avril’s lower back as he introduced the healer. “Lady Veta, this is Merlon, our chief healer. Mer, this is Veta, my brother’s rescuer.”

Veta blushed prettily, lending color to her paling cheeks. “I am pleased to meet you, Merlon, but I must protest the title. I am only a humble peasant, not a lady.”

Illeron interjected. “The title is a sign of respect, not delusion on our part. As the deliverer of my brother, surely we may show our appreciation in some way.”

Veta opened her mouth to protest, but the healer spoke first.

“If I may, Lord Whispier, there is something seriously wrong with this young human. Immediate intervention might be needed.”

“We suspected as much,” Illeron agreed.

The silver-haired healer stepped toward Veta and asked her permission to touch her. She granted it readily enough.

He feathered his fingertips across her forehead. Silvery magic twining from them curled into her skin. Lowering his hands, Merlon ran them down her body, maintaining a distance of an inch or so. As his hands moved, Merlon’s features darkened with concern. When he finally lifted his hands away, his silver brows lowered over his brown-and-gold eyes, which he focused on me.

“What have you done to her?” he demanded.

“Nothing I didn’t request,” Veta responded fiercely before I could recover from my surprise.

“It was unintentional,” I protested. “I thought I would be the only one affected by the spell. As a human, she has no magic and thus would be untouched by the partial bonding.”

The healer’s gaze didn’t soften in the least. “It is true that humans have no natural magic of their own, but they have similar lifeforces to us, and they are definitely very susceptible to the effects of magic. Some can even feel or see it.”

Avril nodded. “I can see magic.”

“Before or after conceiving the child?” the healer asked in sudden interest.

“Both.”

“How about before your marriage?” He peered at her intently.

“Definitely before.”

“Intriguing…” Merlon lapsed into thoughtful silence. “You are the first to carry a human-elven child in a century, to my knowledge. As I mentioned before, I would be honored to oversee your care for the remainder of the pregnancy.”

Illeron and Avril had a quick, silent exchange using only their expressions before Illeron turned to Merlon. “We accept.”

“My gratitude is yours,” Merlon replied with a deep bow toward my brother and his wife.

“What about Veta?” I demanded. “Explain your earlier comments.”

Merlon regarded me with surprise and far too perceptive eyes. “What did you do to her?”

“A magus caught me in a binding curse that utilized part of our bonding ritual. Using it, he drained me almost to death regularly. Keeping me weak enough I couldn’t break free, he bound me with iron and shut me up in a cage of iron. That was my existence for two months before Veta joined me in captivity.” As I spoke, Veta’s thumb caressed my arm through the fabric of my uniform tunic. I gently squeezed her fingers in return. “After witnessing one of my drainings, she offered to help me escape.”

“He tried to talk me out of it.” She leaned against me. I sensed her flagging strength but also her trust. “I insisted.”

“Eventually, I led her through the woman’s part of the bonding ceremony in elvish. The stronger enchantment overwhelmed the cobbled-together one, and I was free. I dragged her straight into a wraithwalk until we were safely away. Then, I collapsed.”

“Did you leave her then?” Merlon demanded.

I shook my head. “Not until I reunited her with her brother and saw them safely on their way.” My conscience prodded me that I had done far too little before that first leaving.

“What drove you back?” The healer glared at me. “Tremors? Nausea? There are always physical side effects for these kinds of botched bonding. You both should have suffered from the same effect but to differing degrees.”

“Night terrors,” Veta responded. “Chills, exhaustion, and sleeplessness.” She rested her head against my arm.

“I had the night terrors and the insomnia, but no chills or the extreme exhaustion.” Shadow elves require less sleep than humans.

“I can’t stand much longer,” Veta confessed.

“By all means, sit,” Avril urged, but both Illeron and I were already in motion. I scooped her up and deposited her into the upholstered chair Illeron pulled out from the table. I stepped around behind the chair so that we both faced the healer. Unwilling to give up our tenuous connection, though, I threaded my fingers through her hair at the base of her neck, out of view of all but the healer. Merlon’s eyebrows rose briefly at my movement, but he made no comment.

“Can you help her?” I asked.

“No.” The healer pinned me with a sharp gaze. “There is only one solution, an instant marriage. It has to happen now before she loses consciousness again.”

“What?” Illeron protested.

“Can we do that?” Avril asked.

I didn’t hesitate. “How much time do we have?”

“Minutes by the looks of things.” Merlon gestured toward Veta. “I can put a stimulant spell on her, but it might have adverse side effects.”

I came around her chair and knelt at her feet, capturing her lax hands in one of mine. Her eyelids were closing. “Look at me, caris,” I said as I caressed her cheek with my free hand.

“I am so sleepy,” Veta whispered as she nuzzled my palm. A strange mixture of panic and pleasure jolted through me. I couldn’t lose her.

“Does she need to begin with her part again?” I asked Merlon without looking away from Veta’s sleepy expression.

“Unfortunately, yes.”

“Veta, caris, look into my eyes.”

To my relief, she obeyed.

“Repeat after me.” I began the vows in elvish. Like a half-alive automaton, she said them after me. When we reached the last word, her eyes drooped lazily. I immediately rushed into my half of the vows.

“Now the kiss,” the healer pressed as I uttered the last words. I felt him gathering magic in preparation for the spell failure should it not take.

Leaning forward, I awkwardly pressed my lips to Veta’s, half-afraid that the magic wouldn’t engage. A sharp zing of power shot through me and into her, and I felt the connection I had earlier with her. This time it caught and held. Unlike before, it anchored like an invisible tie between us, a bond that had taken root in my chest. Relief washed over me as I drew back.

Behind me, Merlon confirmed what I already knew. “Done! The spell engaged.”

Veta’s eyes opened sleepily. “What just happened?” she asked.

I inwardly groaned. Explaining that the spell now irrevocably joined us for life would not be easy. Saying she accepted it and living it out would be two different things. But I didn’t regret it. She lived and would continue to live. That was what mattered. I was content with my decision. I couldn’t let her die as a result of my impulsiveness.

∞∞∞

Chapter Ten

Veta

The expression in Casimir’s eyes was challenging to interpret. He had re-engaged his expressionless mask and retreated behind it. Since the others crowded close, I couldn’t demand he tell me why he appeared so apprehensive.

“She will live,” Merlon announced. “It will take time for her to recover. Time spent near you.” He frowned pointedly at Casimir.

“That is going to be a problem.” The grimness of Illeron’s voice drew everyone’s attention to him and the shadow elf standing next to him where none had been a moment ago. “Warlords Batair and Cathral have declared war on the woodwose. I need every shadow elf in the field, including Casimir. No, make that especially Casimir. He knows the region best.”

Casimir turned to the healer. “How much time can I stay away without harming her?”

Although my mind pointed out that he was trying to take care of me despite his duty to his brother, my heart only heard that he was planning to stay away as much as possible. Hardly the best approach to an already rocky start for a marriage.

Rising to his feet, Casimir continued to discuss the exact parameters necessary for my recovery. He kept a hold of one of my hands, keeping the connection between us as he turned away to argue with the healer and his brother.

Avril smoothly moved into the space he vacated and caught my free hand. “Welcome to the family.” A medium-sized woman, wiry and energetic, she smiled effusively. “You have no idea how pleasant it will be to have female companionship in this household. Aside from some of the serving staff, I haven’t seen a woman in months.”

“Not that I have heard you complaining.” Illeron’s hand brushed the top of his wife’s auburn hair before settling on her shoulder with an affectionate squeeze. “Regardless, yes. Welcome to the family, Lady Veta.” His mouth quirked slightly as he emphasized the title. “I am sorry to say that the title is permanent now, considering you married my brother. He holds multiple titles and accolades in his own right despite his denials.”

“I guess I’ll have to adjust, but it’s still going to feel strange.”

“You’ll get used to it.” Avril released my hand to touch her husband’s fingers on her shoulder. “In fact, most elves I have met tend to be quite set in their ways. Despite my best efforts to make him change, Illeron refuses to budge on so many traditions.”

“Give us time, love.”

“Veta!” Orin burst through the dining room doors and launched himself at me. I had to reclaim my hand from Casimir’s grasp to catch him. Casimir simply moved his hand to thread through my hair and rest at the base of my neck once more. He was taking the contact instructions seriously.

“Guess what! There’s a brownie in the kitchen. His name is Waldorf, and he is in charge of all the food. I told him that you like cookies and fudge. He says he will make you some soon. And Ergon says we get to stay. Can we stay forever? I love this house. It has an indoor garden and a library. Ergon promises that I will learn to read, and some of the books have pictures.” Orin would’ve continued rambling nonstop if I hadn’t hushed him.

Ergon cleared his throat. “Dinner is served.”

The following meal contained at least seven different dishes. I didn’t recognize half of the contents. Casimir noted my confusion and tactfully leaned close as each passed to whisper ingredients in my ear. Orin chattered at Avril and the healer throughout the meal, making up for my quietness. Casimir and Illeron spoke about the actions ahead. However, even as his focus was on the conversation with his brother, Casimir’s large hand cradled mine beneath the table, his thumb occasionally caressing the back of it.

As my stomach filled, my eyes grew heavy. The murmur of voices lulled me. My head fell forward only for me to jolt upright. I couldn’t sleep now. After such kindness, they deserved more than rudeness.

“Casimir?” The healer’s voice cut across whatever Illeron was saying. The spymaster quit speaking. Casimir turned to meet Merlon’s gaze before the healer spoke again. “Your new wife needs sleep.”

“Wife?” Orin’s bright voice broke the following silence. “What does he mean, Casimir’s wife?”

I struggled to form a coherent thought or formulate an explanation for my brother. Then, Casimir distracted me by standing, pulling me out of my chair, and lifting me into his arms.

He carried me out of the room before I could voice the protest that I owed Orin an explanation. But I lost the desire to complain when I sank into the familiar awareness of his closeness and the demanding darkness of sleep.

∞∞∞

Casimir

Wife. The sound of the word alone kept catching me off-guard.

Our life became a hectic dance of schedule coordination. Two days after our bonding, when the evening shadows began to lengthen, I left. Wraithwalking through the night, I completed at least seven missions before the first light of dawn. Then, I spent the daylight hours planning for the next night’s activities.

The following night, I completed more missions only to arrive in my brother’s gardens as dawn broke. I fell into bed exhausted before rising a few hours later to meet my wife and spend the day with her, strengthening her through our bond. I usually slept in the late afternoon before leaving again.

This lasted for several weeks, and Veta thrived. Her coloring returned. Her smiles brightened again. I frequently found her in the gardens with Avril, discussing plans for the spring, or in the library with Orin as Illeron taught the two of them to read.

Despite my joy at seeing her accepted and enjoyed by my family, an unfamiliar emotion grew every time I saw her with them. It wasn’t until I arrived home to find her laughing at something her shadow elf guard had said that I identified the source of my discontent as it bloomed full force in the center of my chest. It was jealousy.

Before I brought her home, she had been mine—my secret friend, my only female friend. Her smiles had been only for me. Her laughter, her practical optimism, and her tenacity had warmed me and mellowed my more negative tendencies. Now she shared them with others. My brother, his wife, the gardeners, and even the security guards enjoyed more of her attention than I did.

Recognizing the emotion wasn’t logical, I lingered in the alcove shadows near the fountain before joining the trio in the winter sun. I watched her talk to Gnoble, the head gardener, intent on describing something by the way her hands danced in the air. She practically glowed with health now. Her midnight hair escaped from its arrangement, curling around her tiny ears. The current style called for braids that coiled about the head. I much preferred her hair down in a silken cascade about her shoulders.

Memories of the smell of her skin, the warm concern in her stormy gray eyes, the—I shook myself free of my thoughts. What was wrong with me? I turned from the domestic scene and rested my forehead against the cool stone deeper in the shadows of the alcove. My mood made me unfit for company. I couldn’t even keep focused on the tasks at hand: greet my wife, retreat to my bed, and sleep alone.

“Casimir?”

I turned at the soft sound of her voice. When had Veta moved so close? I hadn’t heard her approach. Yet, she was there. The smell of her invaded the small alcove, crowding me with its invitation to relax, accept, give in to temptation. I struggled to calm myself.

“What is wrong?” she asked.

“Are you having nightmares?” I turned my head to gaze down at her and awaited her answer. Dark and concerned, her storm-gray eyes studied my features. A slight pucker appeared between her delicate brows. My hand rose of its own accord and caressed the crease in an effort to erase it.

“No. I have been sleeping well.” She caught my hand and guided it away from her eyebrows. “Are you having nightmares still?”

I nodded reluctantly. “I don’t sleep well when I’m not near you,” I confessed.

Slipping between me and the wall, Veta wrapped her arms around my back pressing her face to my chest and hugging me firmly. I soaked it up. Her warmth, acceptance, and calm slowly permeated the storm in me. I gave in to impulse and wrapped my arms around her in return. Soft and giving, she fit in my arms so perfectly. Lowering my face to bury it in her hair, I breathed deeply again.

“You need sleep,” she whispered against my chest.

“Hmm.” I hummed in agreement. My body grew heavy like it had found what it was seeking and could now rest.

“Bring me with you?” she asked.

Too tired to care that I had resolved not to do so, I wraithwalked into the familiar world of shadows and shades, heedless that I carried her with me.

∞∞∞

Veta

Casimir’s exhaustion radiated from him in waves. He barely kept his head up and his eyes open as he wraithwalked. In fact, I suspected he didn’t even open his eyes as he stepped through the shadows with me clasped against his chest. One moment we were in the garden alcove in sight of the fountain. The next, we were in a room I had never been in before. Draped in darkness, the walls were painted a deep color of not entirely black. Windows loomed along one wall, completely darkened by curtains.

Thankfully, finding the bed wasn’t hard, considering Casimir immediately headed in that direction. Releasing me before reaching it, he sat on the edge of the bed and pulled off his boots. Then, he silently crawled into the middle and collapsed facedown. Within moments, a soft snore filled the silence.

I stood in the middle of my husband’s bedroom, mulling over what exactly I should do. Considering how badly he needed sleep, I suspected drastic action was necessary. I would need to change my sleeping schedule. It would be a small price to pay for his health and the war effort.

Better to start sooner than later for everyone’s sake.

I perched on his bed. Sliding off my shoes, I unpinned my braids and let them hang down my back. Then, I settled on my side on the bed facing him so I could watch him sleep. Not that I saw much except his outflung elbow.

As the minutes passed, I relaxed, and before I knew it, sleepiness overtook me.

∞∞∞

Casimir

I woke in a state of panic. Heart racing, I listened. Someone was in my bedchamber. They breathed so close at hand that they had to be on my bed. My eyes flew open. My enhanced sight adjusted to the darkness instantly as I reared back from my face plant. I had worn my clothing to bed, again. But this time, I had remembered to take off my boots.

I blinked in the breather’s direction and stilled.

Veta lay in my bed with her back to me. Based on the mussing of the quilts, I suspected she had woken me when she rolled over. I groaned. She didn’t stir at the sound, but a quick glance at the curtain-covered windows indicated night wasn’t far off. I had slept all day without a single nightmare.

Rolling cautiously onto my side, I watched the rise and fall of her shoulders. I needed her. I couldn’t sleep without her, and—I hesitated to admit—I wanted her close. With a heavy sigh and feeling like I was going to regret the move, I reached across the mattress and drew her into my arms.

Veta slept through the whole maneuver and settled against me as though she belonged there. Her soft sigh of contentment solidified my resolve. She would be in my embrace every time I returned from now on.

∞∞∞

Chapter Eleven

Veta

Our new arrangement, me sharing my husband’s bed every day, improved everything. Casimir lost his haunted appearance, and I missed him far less when I slept in his arms for the hours he was home. We still needed more time together, but for now, this change would be enough.

The shifting of my schedule also caused me to learn that his brother had some serious nocturnal routines that I had been unaware of before. Illeron rose in the depths of the night to oversee the campaign against the warlords and debriefed the shadow elves between missions. Lady Avril occasionally stayed up at night as well. As her pregnancy progressed, she grew more restless. During those nights, I kept her company. We walked the corridors and talked about life and relationships, with frequent pauses so she could rub her side.

“How long will these pains last?” I asked on one such occasion. Avril leaned with one palm on a hall table and the other massaging her distended stomach. At nearly nine months pregnant, her middle had rounded, swelling enough to be visible in every outfit she wore. The child within had grown active, thus the lack of sleep.

“The healer predicts I will have periods of pain between now and delivery.” She grimaced. “It is a good thing I want this child.” She groaned as the baby kicked hard. “On second thought, I am reconsidering. Stop it, child.”

Almost as silently as thought, Illeron emerged from the study door farther along the corridor. In the manner of elves, he didn’t appear to need nearly as much sleep as Avril and me. Even in the middle of the night, he seemed as awake and energized as at midday. “Are you well?” he asked quietly.

Avril shot him a glare. “I am carrying your child, my back is aching, and he is attempting to exit my womb early by kicking a hole in the side.” She winced as the child jabbed again. “I am not feeling well.”

“Let me help the backache at least.” Coming around to stand behind her, Illeron began massaging her lower back as he supported her. I could feel him gathering his magic, probably to heal the abused muscles, as he rubbed. “Better?” he asked.

“Hmm.” Avril leaned back into her husband’s solid support, resting her head on his chest. “Don’t stop.”

An amused and pleased expression passed over Illeron’s face before he met my gaze over Avril’s head.

“How goes the campaign?” I asked, offering a safe topic to distract from the intimate moment.

“Not well.” He grimaced slightly. “The woodwose are refusing any direct assistance.”

“Why?” I asked.

He huffed softly. “Pride. Their leader is a warrior of ancient wars. He decided they can handle the warlords on their own despite appearances to the contrary.” A contemplative expression flickered across his features. “Your brother’s family is located near the southern border of the woodwose lands, correct?”

“Yes.” I frowned at him in confusion. “Why?”

“Tyron brought back a report of Cathral’s troops raiding human farms along the southern borders. The warlords are forcing every available male into military service. When the farmers resist, the warlords burn their fields and take them by force.”

“A little to the left, love,” Avril whispered.

Illeron adjusted his palm’s location, and Avril responded with a soft sound of approval.

He continued speaking as though nothing had happened. “We have been trying to evacuate those who are willing to be moved, but we can’t reach everyone.”

I smiled at the fact that he was giving them an option. Casimir had been advocating for weeks to take a more proactive approach to helping the humans instead of remaining only as observers. Illeron proved remarkably receptive to the idea. “The fewer troops, the shorter the war,” I observed.

“Exactly.” Illeron nodded. “I hoped there would be a way to identify your brother’s family so we might offer them assistance.”

“They go by the familial name of Polnick.”

Illeron nodded. “Then, they are on our schedule of families to approach at dawn. I am sending elves now because the journey will take some time. Would you like to go with them? Perhaps they will listen to you more than them.”

“I would. Thank you.”

“But, love,” Avril protested. “Traveling into a war zone isn’t exactly safe.”

“She should be perfectly safe, or I wouldn’t’ve suggested it. Tyron will be her escort, and two other elves will be within summoning range at all times. There are always risks, but I would not suggest it unless they were minimal.”

I didn’t wait for Avril to respond. “I accept. When do we leave?”

“Within the half hour.”

“Then I best prepare. Excuse me.” Leaving the couple to their whispered argument, I rushed down the corridor toward Casimir’s room, where I now stored the clothing he had purchased for me. After donning the black, fur-lined cloak he had chosen for precisely this kind of travel, I scrambled to find my boots. I had always thought that I would wear them for the first time while traveling with my husband, but he had not been able to show me much of the land beyond the estate yet.

I met up with Tyron, Favian, and one other shadow elf I hadn’t met before in the conservatory or, as Orin called it, the inside garden. As I approached, the elves were divvying up the assignments.

“Lady Veta.” Favian, the scarred elf with silver-laced black hair, bowed to me. “It is an honor. As pleased as I am to see you, my lady, are you certain that you want to do this? We are entering a war zone.”

I lifted my chin to meet the concerned elf’s frown. “The group we are attempting to evacuate is my brother’s family and, by extension, my family. I have to try to help, for his sake.”

“Casimir won’t like it,” commented the elf I hadn’t met yet.

“Rydian, manners,” Tyron rebuked.

Favian turned to Rydian. “Such things are between the lady and her husband. They’re not acceptable topics for conversation or comment.”

Rydian offered me a slight bow. “My apologies, my lady. I spoke inappropriately.”

“It is an understandable concern, but Favian is correct. I have a promise to keep to my brother. I cannot fulfill it if a pressgang forces them into service on the wrong side.”

Rydian’s eyes lightened with understanding. “In that case, I hope you succeed, my lady.”

After a few quick exchanges regarding plans, the three elves decided how they would escort me to ensure the greatest safety. Then, once we dealt with Orin’s relatives, the other two would scatter while Tyron escorted me back to the palace. I had no objections, so we set off.

Traveling with Tyron differed from traveling with Casimir. His halting wraithwalking compared poorly with Casimir’s smooth glide from shadow to shade. However, as we stepped out into the darkness beneath a tall pine at the edge of a field, I couldn’t help appreciating the swiftness with which even Tyron traveled.

Winter came early in the north. The morning sun’s rays glared off the gleaming surface of ice-crusted snow. The chill in the wind cut across the open expanse, rattling dried and brittle stubble left from the previous harvest less than a month before.

“Let me try the barn first,” I suggested, my breath casting puffs of fog into the air.

Tyron nodded and took my arm as though to travel with me as we had before.

“But not by wraithwalking,” I protested. “As you know, most humans fear shadow elves. I should approach them alone.”

“I will watch, then.” Tyron nodded toward the pine closest to the barn. “Favian lingers there.”

A slight disturbance in the fall of the shadows signaled that something wasn’t quite normal about the tree. I knew that meant an elf stood there. It was becoming a learned skill thanks to my extensive time with Casimir and the others.

“And Rydian?” I scanned the other trees.

“I suspect he chose somewhere in the barn itself. Don’t worry. He won’t expose his position unless necessary.”

I grimaced slightly. Even after all these months, their joint habit of choosing observation over direct interaction still bothered me. Only their strict rules of doing no harm eased my concerns. Change took time. I could be patient.

Striking out across the field, I plowed through the drifts in my sturdy boots. The cold was just beginning to soak through my layers. I shivered to think of trying to survive the winter as we had planned before Casimir’s rescue.

My cloak was just short enough to skim above the snow, but my thick skirts made the process difficult. Hiking them up, I pressed on. Only when I reached the border of the field and strode onto the packed snow of the path did I lift my head. I found I was being observed.

Three people stood outside the wide door of the barn. A man, slender and narrow-shouldered despite his heavy layers of clothing, leaned on a pitchfork and stared at me through narrowed eyes. Beside him, a woman of medium height regarded me with a pinched expression and crossed arms. Only the young man next to her didn’t appear to have formed a visible opinion of me yet.

“What are you doing on my land?” the farmer demanded.

“Is this the Polnick farm?” I inquired as I drew closer.

“What is it to you?” the pinched woman challenged, but the lad nodded.

“A group of Warlord Cathral’s troops is marching in this direction, intent on pressing everyone they find into their service. If you will come with us, my friends and I can take you to safety, out of the warlord’s path.”

The man snorted. “What friends?”

The lad edged closer to his parents. From the fear in his eyes, he understood what service would mean for him.

“What is it to you if we escape or not? For all we know, you’re only going to enslave us or worse,” the woman responded.

I forged on with my plea. “If you are the Polnick household, then you are family to me. My mother, Silva Warren, married Oriner Polnick a decade back. She bore him a son and named him Orin. I am the daughter of her first marriage.”

The woman recoiled, disgust twisting her face. “Lies.”

“My brother died without an heir. His portion is mine,” the farmer declared. A flash of hatred flared in his suspicious gaze. “If you think I am going to give up my claim to some stranger’s brat, you are an idiot. Begone before I apply my pitchfork to your back.”

I felt more than heard the arrival of a shadow elf at my back. “We should leave,” Tyron said from right behind me.

The pinched woman’s eyes widened, and she let out a small shriek. Meanwhile, the farmer ordered his son to grab a weapon as he leveled the prongs of the farming tool at me.

“The warlord’s troops are almost in sight. We need to leave now.” Tyron touched my shoulder. “Please, my lady. You will be harmed if you stay.”

My heart ached, especially for the boy. He was only a few years older than Orin.

“Devil!” The farmer tightened his grip on his pitchfork and started advancing on us.

“Let us go,” I agreed.

Immediately, Tyron picked me up and carried me high against his chest. I could look over his shoulder as he ran for the nearest shadow. I glimpsed the rage in the man’s face and the fear in the boy’s eyes moments before we melted into the first dark step. Three more and Tyron came to an abrupt stop.

A field of what felt like lightning jolted through both of us. The energy flung me free so that I hit the frozen ground hard. Pain blossomed in my hip. I tried to ignore it as I rolled to my feet. It throbbed as I turned to find my elven escort suspended in the air, features fraught with horror.

His arms snapped to his sides and his feet clamped together, held by the strange power. Pain contorted his face in a way that reminded me of Casimir’s draining while we were in captivity. Then a voice spoke that had haunted my dreams for months after our escape.

“What have we here?” the magus of my nightmares asked in a gleeful voice. “A shadow elf and a potential slave?”

I attempted to turn toward the sound, only for my hip to give out. I collapsed with a whimper moments before someone seized me by my hair and dragged my head back.

“Oh!” The magus’ ugly features with his solid, ink-black eyes filled my vision as he cackled with glee. “Not just any slave. The one who walks with shadow elves. Where is your friend?”

My eyes teared as he yanked me to my feet.

He prowled toward Tyron, mindful of remaining outside the spell’s field of power. “This isn’t the one you escaped with.” He muttered some words. A flare of magic, messy and uncontrolled, shot at Tyron. “Weak! I don’t want this pathetic excuse for a shadow elf.” He waved where Tyron hung suspended as he fixed his full attention on me. “He isn’t worth the effort of a draining. The one you escaped with, however, was a prize. I want him.” He grabbed my jaw and forced my face to the side, appearing to look for something.

My mind scrambled to guess what he sought. I had no physical sign of Casimir and my bonding, or did I?

He muttered the same spell again. This time the blast of magic pulsed through me. I flinched but it didn’t hurt. An uncomfortable buzzing in my bones followed by a strange moment of cottony hearing were the only signs of the spell passing through me.

“Ah!” He yanked my head around again and stared deep into my eyes. “Such an enterprising woman. You married him. That changes everything.” He cackled, throwing me from him. I landed on my good hip, and I barely prevented a face plant.

“Shadow elf!” The magus prowled across the clearing toward Tyron. “The girl is mine. Tell the elf that claimed her that she will die if he doesn’t appear today and give himself up. Don’t get any ideas about attacking me. I will simply capture you just as easily. And next time, I won’t hesitate to drain you and kill you. Understand?”

Tyron must have indicated he did because he left in a hasty dash for the nearest shade within a few heartbeats of the magus releasing him. His jump concluded with a messy snap of inrushing air.

“Now to summon my minions. We have a trap to set. And you, worthless one, shall be the bait.” He grinned a mad grimace. “Once I have a matched pair, the real fun shall begin. There will be no escaping a second time.”

∞∞∞

Chapter Twelve

Casimir

I longed for my rest day. Not just because my exhaustion slowed my responses and clouded my mind, but because it meant time in Veta’s arms. Her soothing presence, listening ear, and quiet manner kept me sane no matter what chaos I met on the battlefield or while supervising missions. So, when I had an opportunity to return home a day early, I took it.

Stepping into my brother’s study, I found everything as expected. Illeron’s assistant, Chislon, argued with Illeron over a particular detail, their voices rising and falling with their points. My brother’s worktable was buried beneath an unusual number of maps and papers. Avril reclined on the chaise that had once belonged to Illeron’s and my mother. Her eyes were closed. I wasn’t confident if it was because she was sleeping or just resting. Either way, she didn’t react to the raised voices of the light elves at the table. Two shadow elves lingered awkwardly in the far corner where the shadows were deepest out of the reach of the sunlight flowing through the expansive windows.

“No matter what they say, we can’t take them at their word,” Illeron declared in a calm tone.

Chislon was less discreet with his volume. “We have to trust someone!”

“No, we don’t,” Illeron replied, flicking his gaze toward his resting wife. “Moderate your tone, or I will send you from the room.”

Lowering his volume, Chislon responded, “Why must we—”

“Casimir!” Illeron spotted me. “Just who I wanted to see.”

I raised my brows at him. “I am a day early.”

“That doesn’t negate my desire to see you.” He flashed me an expression of exaggerated desperation. “My assistant is trying to badger me into a poor decision.”

Chislon huffed loudly.

“What is your report?” my brother asked, moving to the map spread out across the tabletop.

“The number of humans willing to accept evacuation help has been discouragingly few, but those we have moved are settling on Grimore’s land,” I replied. Grimore was one of our allies among the warlords opposing the war with he woodwose. “Grimore’s people have been vital in their assistance.”

“And the response from the woodwose regarding our offer of help?” Illeron prompted.

“A clear ‘thanks, but no thanks’ from the woodwose’s Serene Paterfamilias. The Pater said they would ask for help should they require it, but they prefer to deal with the conflict themselves.”

Illeron’s concern tightened his features. “Can they handle it themselves?”

I laughed without humor. “You know they’re all trained in the healing arts beyond what you were taught, right?”

Illeron straightened and frowned in confusion.

“Have you ever seen a warrior fight who has an intimate knowledge of the way a body works and is put together? They are brutal, efficient warriors in hand-to-hand confrontations. The only reason they haven’t won is because of the sheer number of unwilling forces the warlords have been thrusting at them. I suspect this war is going to be won by attrition alone.”

“Then we are in for a long and bloody war.” Sadness marred Illeron’s previously optimistic expression. “I had hoped for a way to spare the humans. Is there no other possibility?”

I shook my head. “The warlords intend to take the land, and the woodwose refuse to relinquish an inch. They also won’t take land beyond driving back the invasion from their borders.” I scanned the map. “On the positive side, the woodwose appear determined to engage only with the enemy. They go out of their way to avoid conflict unless it is forced upon them.”

“So, they leave noncombatant humans alone.”

I nodded. “However, it is only a matter of time before Batair and Cathral realize this and start using it to their advantage.”

Illeron stared grimly at the map before us. I suspected he wasn’t actually focusing on the paper but on something else. He frequently indulged in studying the air while wrestling with a problem.

“I am going to retire. Do you know where Veta might be?”

“She is not on the estate.” Illeron blinked. “She is due back in the next hour or so at the earliest.”

A strange sense of disquiet settled in my chest as I glanced over at Avril. “Where did she go?”

“She volunteered to persuade her brother’s family to evacuate.” Illeron grabbed my arm as I turned toward the nearest shadow elf. “She insisted.”

“And you let her?” I struggled to keep my voice dispassionate. By the lightening of my brother’s eyes, I failed miserably.

“I didn’t send her alone. Tyron escorted her with Favian and Rydian as additional backup. I expect them back anytime now if the mission went poorly. However, if the family agreed to evacuate, they won’t return until nightfall.”

Irrational anger beat against my emotional defenses. I fisted my hands and reached for reliable logic. Illeron cared about Veta. He would’ve never allowed her to go unless the journey was safe. Tyron, despite his youth, was a reliable and seasoned warrior. He wouldn’t let anything happen to Veta. My rage abated, but the need to see for myself that Veta was safe remained.

“Is there any way I can intercept them?” I asked as calmly as I could manage.

“Will you go bashing in poor Tyron’s face?”

I glared at him. “I am more tempted to take a jab at you, not Tyron. We both know he was only acting on your orders.”

Illeron rolled his eyes at me. “Life is full of risk, Cas. She can’t live the whole rest of hers on this estate. Also, I would like to point out that she had a full and very unsafe life before you even knew her, and she survived. And since you met her, she hasn’t been exactly secure at every moment. I offered her the opportunity and she took it.”

“Where is the farm? I still want to check on her.”

Illeron grimaced before reaching across the map and tapping a location.

“Cathral’s men were moving through there today,” I observed with uneasiness.

“Which is why we sent out the offer today and not tomorrow.”

I opened my mouth to contest his definition of timeliness, but a loud crack of air interrupted me.

“Magus,” Tyron croaked before falling to his knees. “He has Lady Veta. Demands Casimir come.” He nodded at me.

“Where?” I demanded.

“Southwest of the family farm.”

I didn’t linger. With a glare at my brother to communicate that I expected backup, I leaped for the shadows and wraithwalked north as fast as I could.

∞∞∞

Veta

The magus’ minions answered his summons with far more promptness than I expected. In a matter of minutes following Tyron’s departure, three men entered the clearing from the south.

“Catch something?” the first one asked. I instantly recognized him as the spindly legged man who led the band of raiders during my initial capture.

“Bait.” The magus sneered at me. “Set traps for the elf along the southern perimeter. Make sure you space them right this time.”

The leader nodded toward the two other thugs, large men with a weary set to their shoulders. “You heard the master. Move along now.” Turning back to the magus, he grimaced at me. Narrowing his gaze, he appeared to be trying to place my features. “Isn’t she the one that got away a bit back?”

“Yes.” The magus drew the last sound out into a hiss. “And she won’t get away again.” His fingers dug into my arm. “Will you?”

I kept my mouth shut and glared at him.

The man laughed. “Feisty one, eh?”

“Not when I get done with her and her lover.”

The leader’s interest perked. “You mean her and the shadow elf you had—”

“See to those traps! No mistakes. Not like last time.”

The man flinched ever so slightly, but as he moved away, the glare he set on the magus’ back didn’t bode well for either of them.

The magus dragged me into the center of the clearing. “What is it that draws the elf to you?” His unnerving gaze peered into my face. Power oozed off him in a golden glow. The charge in the air made it uncomfortable to be near him. I struggled against his hold, but he tightened his grip on my arm. The glow covered me, prickling as though a thousand stinging nettles covered my skin.

“Ooo!” he crooned. “You have latent magic. That wasn’t there last time.”

“I don’t.” My eyes filled with tears as he ran his hand along my arm and the stinging grew. “I’m human.”

“So am I, you little fool,” he hissed as he continued to stroke my arm, leaving burning pain in his wake. “It didn’t stop me from harvesting some for myself.” His opaque black eyes narrowed as he prodded my skin. “This magic isn’t in you. It isn’t yours.”

“I might say the same of yours,” I retorted.

He ignored me. “It’s a spell. Whose spell?” He flung me to the ground, muttering something beneath his breath. The air hardened, making my head ache.

“I have no magic of my own,” I protested.

“You have someone else’s. Now silence!” He struck the side of my head, making it throb harder. I recoiled, pulling my limbs closer to my body and trying to protect my head while making myself as small as possible. My hip flared in a flash of fiery white pain when I tried to move it, making me cry out.

“Be quiet!” he snapped. Then he threw a spell at me. It hit like fire behind my eyes…and then blessed oblivion followed on its heels.

When I woke again, the light had changed. I guessed an hour or two had passed. The sun hung close to its apex. Shadows had retreated from the clearing, exposing me to the harsh midday sunlight. The air hung heavy with the sour scent of the magus’ magic.

His men paced the perimeter of the clearing. Black oozing patches marred the dirt where I guessed they had laid their traps. The placement covered far more than the southern edge of the clearing. The men paced behind a second ring of oozing spots.

Off to my left, behind my back, I could hear the magus muttering to himself. I glanced over my shoulder at him. By the sharp, harsh sounds of the words, I suspected he was forming another spell. My stomach tightened. I had to warn Casimir. The magus couldn’t get his hands on him again. Casimir had suffered enough.

I chastised myself for not calling after Tyron. My life wasn’t worth Casimir being pulled into captivity again. The thought of the magus draining him again horrified me. I couldn’t face watching the monster torture Casimir and kill him. But how could I stop it from happening? I was outnumbered.

I shifted to check that no new thugs had arrived, and pain blossomed in my hip. Add being injured to the odds against me doing anything useful.

I knew Casimir would come. He had promised to protect me, and my husband always kept his promises. But that’s what I feared worse than my own suffering.

Squeezing my eyes closed, I attempted to move my legs and immediately regretted it. Pain still radiated from my injured side, and the cold seeping through my cloak into my joints only worsened it. Still, I had to do something. I couldn’t let Casimir walk into a trap. Forcing my leg to move, I slowly attempted to gain my feet.

“What are you doing?” the magus demanded.

“Standing,” I retorted through gritted teeth.

He snorted. “Don’t bother. We set the traps. I am almost done with the central spell. It only awaits the rat.”

I finally straightened to glance around. The magus stood closer than I had supposed. He bent over something, muttering beneath his breath. Above him and to each side, the air glinted and shimmered like the sunlight catching a spider web.

“The shadow elf will suspect a trap,” I told the magus. I had no intention of giving him Casimir’s name. Knowing a creature’s name gave power to the holder.

One unsteady step in his direction shot agony through my left leg. The madman’s minions didn’t even glance my way as they paroled the perimeter.

The magus scoffed without turning. “It doesn’t matter. This spell caught him once. It will catch him again.” He continued muttering as he leaned over something at the base of the glittering air.

If I reached him, I might possibly distract him. After months of living with elves, I had learned some things. Interrupting spells was dangerous. Also, the weaving of them took concentration.

I grimaced. Another painful step and I would be in reach of a stick. It was as thick as my wrist and shorter than my arm, perfect for hitting things or throwing. But I had to reach it before the magus realized my intent or his minions spotted me.

“What are you doing?” Casimir asked from behind me. I glanced over my shoulder as he stepped from the inky blackness of a tree’s shade. Wisps of night and darkness clung to his shadow form, obscuring his features. I turned in my eagerness to face him, wrenching my injured hip. An ominous pop intensified the pain, driving me to the ground with a gasp of agony.

The magus was at my side in an instant. He uttered a garbled word I didn’t recognize, and the surrounding air solidified so fast my ears popped. Simultaneously, his minions rushed to confront Casimir.

The first man hurled a glowing ball at Casimir’s head, which my husband easily dodged. Gleaming black swords appeared, one in each of his hands.

“Care to rethink that?” Casimir asked his assailant. His silver eyes glowed ominously from the depths of his shadow form as his magic gathered darkness around his feet like black fog.

The spindly legged leader of the thugs picked up one of the oozing black splotches on the ground. In his hands, it turned into a blob of malignant magic. “Don’t let him distract you.” He threw the magic at Casimir, who ducked, but some of the dripping magic landed on his shoulder, sizzling through his fog of wispy darkness.

Another thug engaged Casimir’s attention just as the third crept up behind him.

“Behind you!” I cried, but I didn’t see Casimir’s response because something struck the side of my head hard enough for me to see stars. I feared for a moment I had gone deaf, but the magus quickly dissuaded me of that. He grabbed me by my hair, pulled back my head, and pressed something sharp and cold against my throat. “Not another step, nightmare, or she dies.”

Casimir halted. The wisps of shade around him intensified, almost as though the shadows near him strained to join him. Two of the three thugs were on the ground at his feet. One groaned loudly, but the other was ominously still and silent. Considering the red glint on the edge of my husband’s nearest sword, I suspected the man might be dead.

“Release her.” Casimir’s voice deepened and darkened, warning of a temper just barely contained.

The magus laughed with a slightly unhinged note. “No, you freak of nature.”

The lead thug scooped up another of the black spells. Approaching Casimir cautiously from the side, his eyes flicked to my captor and back as though watching for a signal.

Meanwhile, the magus tightened his grip on my hair, causing my eyes to water from the pain. It took all my focus not to cry out. “Hold still,” he ordered. Then muttering words I couldn’t make out, he dragged me backward. By some miracle, his knife didn’t cut me as he yanked at me.

The air around us suddenly sizzled with magic, taking my breath away with the intense tingling. A sour smell burned my nose, but the magus didn’t seem to note it at all.

He glared at my husband through two layers of spells. “One spell will bind you, elf. The other prevents you from getting to us. It is noon. There are no shadows for you to jump to within the spells. If you care about the human, you will drop your defenses.” He lifted the knife, the edge scraping my skin with a rasp. “Give your weapons to my man.”

I reared back from the blade in apparent panic, but it was a guise to hide my flailing for a way to stop him. I sat in the snow, pain radiating through my hips and back, almost completely helpless, but there had to be something I could do. My fingers scrabbled in the dirt for a rock, anything.

Whatever the signal had been, the magus must have made it because the remaining minion abruptly uttered a battle cry and hurled himself and two handfuls of malignant magic at Casimir.

In a blink of an eye, the man was dead, and Casimir turned to glare at the magus again. “Release her.” He began stalking toward us.

“If you don’t stop moving, she dies.” The sting of the magus’ blade nicking my skin made me gasp. I tried to muffle it, but Casimir’s gaze snapped to meet mine.

I closed my eyes so he couldn’t see my pain.

My hand closed on the magus’ boot-clad ankle. I could topple the monster. But doing so might mean my death. The blade pressed harder against my skin. I dared not even swallow.

“What assurances do I have that you will release her?” The strange note in Casimir’s voice drew my attention to him. He had dissipated some of his shadow form, so his features were visible. His piercing green-silver eyes were more silver than green when they flicked to meet mine. He shook his head ever so slightly. The message was clear. He saw my plan and didn’t want me to follow through.

But if I didn’t, the magus would catch him. A sob filled my chest. I didn’t want to die, but the prospect of watching Casimir die slowly as the magus tortured his magic from him would be agony. I would rather die and he be free. Tears blurred my vision as I tried to memorize his features one last time.

Casimir moved faster than thought. In one second, he was pressing through the glittering web of the first spell and the air filled with the scent of burned flesh. The next, he shattered the complex spell, making my ears pop again.

I blinked. The magus’ knife pulled away from my throat. His cry of outrage punctuated the ripping of his fist from my hair, taking some strands with it. A sickening crack of bones cut off his tirade. I caught a glimpse of the magus’ broken body.

Casimir hauled me up into his arms, and I sank into the euphoria of his closeness. Binding me against his chest with one arm, he threaded his fingers through my hair, massaging my abused scalp with his fingertips. The sweetness of his touch contrasted sharply with the ache. My eyes watered.

“Veta.” He waited until I met his intense, silver-laced gaze. The green depths darkened. “Sacrificing yourself for me wouldn’t save me. It would only turn me into a wraith, a shadow of myself, living only half a life because the other half is wrapped up in you.”

His intense kiss tasted of desperation and fear. The salt of my tears mingled in, triggering a sudden transition into tenderness. Casimir broke off the kiss to rest his forehead against mine, struggling to slow his breathing. “Please, don’t do that again. I am not certain I could live without you.”

“I had to do something. He planned to drain you again.” A sob ached in my throat at the thought. “I—”

“He was incapable of holding me. The spell only works on unbound elves, which is why you freed me by reciting the bonding spell. The counterfeit spell doesn’t stand a chance against the real thing.” He tightened his hold. His thundering heart matched my own as it throbbed in my ears. Feeling lightheaded with relief, I sagged against him.

“Ready to go home?” he asked.

I nodded.

He set me down, but the moment that my total weight shifted to my feet, agony radiated from my hip, through my back, and down my legs. I let out a sharp cry of pain.

“What?” Casimir reinitiated his original hold. Eyes sharp on my expression and his free hand stroking my back, he frowned down at me. “Where does it hurt?”

Blinking back the moisture in my eyes, I hid my face against his shoulder. “My hip is the worst. I fear something broke when the magus threw me to the ground.”

“Which side?”

“Left.”

He readjusted his grip and then swept me up so that my left hip rested against him. It still ached, but the pain level improved considerably compared to standing on it.

“Better?”

I nodded, not trusting my voice.

“We will be home soon.” He pressed a kiss to the top of my head. “Once there, Merlon will help.”

The shadow and light flickered against my closed eyelids as Casimir wraithwalked. His smooth stride was a sharp contrast to Tyron’s more hesitant and uneven gait. It felt so good to be back in Casimir’s arms.

∞∞∞

Chapter Thirteen

Casimir

I stepped from the relative calm of the shadows into the chaos of the main entry area. Servants rushed by carrying bundles of bedding, a great bowl of steaming water, and a heap of cloth. Another one headed across the foyer with an irritated Waldorf on his heels. The pair of them confronted Ergon, interrupting his conversation with Maury, a large light elf that Illeron trained with every day.

“What do you mean dinner is delayed?” Waldorf demanded. “I planned to make Lady Avril’s favorite dishes. Some of them require hours of preparation, so if there is a change of plans, I won’t be able to deliver.”

Ergon calmly glared at the cook. “I doubt Lady Avril will care much. She suspects the baby is coming and—”

“Lady Avril is in labor!” Waldorf’s brown, wrinkled face broke out into a wide grin before flashing a glare at the servant next to him. “Why didn’t you say? That changes everything. Come! I need ingredients from the storerooms. She will need herbs to help her milk come in, meat for protein, and…” The brownie’s voice faded as he and the servant disappeared down the corridor toward the kitchen.

“About the heating pads,” Maury said, picking up where he left off, but I interrupted him.

“Ergon, where is Merlon?”

The palace steward turned to me and calmly assessed my slightly disheveled state and Veta’s pain-ridden features. “He is in your brother’s bedchamber, but I doubt—”

I backed into the shadow I had just arrived through and stepped into my brother’s bedchamber.

Compared to the chaos outside, the bright, light-filled room was peaceful but not still. Illeron and Chislon argued in the far corner near the door. Despite the intensity of the conversation, my brother kept glancing toward the bed where Avril sat.

Her dark auburn hair fell over her shoulder in a thick braid. Her lips compressed into a tight line as she breathed harshly through her nose. Merlon leaned over her, whispering in her ear. A single elven woman fussed about the bed behind Avril, adjusting the bedclothes.

“Casimir! You are back.” Illeron strode across the room and embraced me with Veta caught between us. She gasped in pain, causing him to backtrack quickly.

“She is injured and needs Merlon’s help.” It was apparent, but considering the craziness going on, I felt it was necessary to specify.

“Avril needs him.”

“No.” Merlon crossed to us, his gaze zeroing in on Veta’s hip. “Lady Veta needs me more. All Lady Avril requires at this point is you, Master Whispier.”

Illeron’s features tightened with concern. “How much am I allowed to assist?” My brother, as a light elf, possessed some limited healing ability. Restrained by lack of strength, not skill, he couldn’t help Veta. However, his healing had saved Avril’s life more than once already in their relationship.

“As little as possible, Master Whispier,” the healer replied absentmindedly. His attention appeared to be fully on Veta, with occasional glares at me.

Illeron nodded and moved toward his wife.

“Follow me,” Merlon ordered.

He slipped through the door into the corridor, moving away from the stairs and toward my chambers. Instead of continuing at the turn in the hall, he stopped and confronted me.

“What did you do to her this time?” he demanded.

“I didn’t hurt her,” I protested.

“He didn’t do this.” Veta’s protest cut off in a hiss of pain. “A magus did it.”

“A now-dead magus.” I glared at Merlon. “A fate you will soon share if you don’t start healing my wife.”

The silver-haired healer’s copper eyes turned strangely cold as he returned my stare. “Her hip is broken.”

“The magus hurled me to the frozen ground with a spell.” Veta straightened in my arms. “Look at me.”

Merlon reluctantly met her gaze.

“I am telling you that Casimir has done nothing wrong. Now could you please heal me?” She let out a quiet moan of pain. “I am not certain how much longer I can—”

A professional mask settled over the healer’s features as he met my gaze. “Where are her chambers? She will wish to rest in her own bed when I am finished.”

I nodded in the direction he had headed moments earlier. “Third door on the left. It’s our chambers.”

The healer nodded and led the way, opening the door for me to navigate through. I headed straight to the bedside.

The transition from my arms to the mattress turned out to be far more painful than me lifting her into my arms. Veta’s soft shriek of pain as her hips touched the bed made me pause. The sound ripped through me. I hated the fact that she was in pain. I wanted to punch something, throw something, do anything to make it stop. It was as though someone was squeezing my heart in my chest, and the only way to relieve it was to stop her pain.

Instead of taking action, I whispered soothing encouragement to her as I adjusted her limbs as the healer instructed.

The healer already had his spells prepared the moment I stepped away. He muttered the words to initiate an immobilizing spell and then started feeding magic into a healing spell centered on her hip.

“Lacerations, bruising, a broken hip, and a twisted ankle. What happened to you?” Merlon demanded.

“A magus threw me around and tried to drain my non-existent magic from me. He was intent on getting his hands on Casimir again.” As she spoke, her words slurred slightly until she was still and quiet.

“I put her to sleep. It will be more comfortable for her to rest during this.” Merlon glanced up at me over Veta’s prone body. “You can leave while I work if you wish. She will never know.”

I shook my head. The pain in her voice had tugged at my chest. I couldn’t stay away even if I wanted. And I definitely didn’t want to leave.

“She is my life. I am not going anywhere.”

Her still body bothered me. I could too easily envision the magus’ knife slipping, or my rush to stop him being just a hair too slow. Closing my eyes, I tried to block out the visions despite knowing that it wouldn’t help. My next batch of nightmares would be about exactly this. The panic settled in my chest.

“May I touch her?” I asked without opening my eyes.

The healer didn’t answer immediately. Thinking he hadn’t heard me, I forced myself to look despite the pain of seeing her so still. To my surprise, I found the healer watching me with a strange expression in his eyes.

“You may.” He refocused on his work and ignored me again.

Sinking to my knees beside the bed, I reached across the mattress to claim her hand from the counterpane. Her fingers, so slender and delicate, lay limp and unresponsive to my caresses. Still, they were warm, the right color, and her heartbeat fluttered steadily beneath the pale skin of her wrist.

“It seems I owe you an apology.” Merlon rose from the other side of the bed where he had been working.

“Why?” I demanded. “Will she—”

“She will live.” He waved away my unspoken concern. “Let her sleep the night through. By tomorrow, the healing will be complete, and she will be as whole and well as before.” He grimaced. “I meant for the accusation. You clearly care and wouldn’t harm her intentionally.” He turned away. “I must leave. Your brother is summoning me. Apparently, Lady Avril’s water has broken, and he wishes for me to be there. Despite there being nothing to do for her beyond what he is already doing.” With that, he bowed to me and left.

The moment the door closed behind him, I removed Veta’s boots. Fetching a blanket from the chest in the corner, I covered her feet and legs. After placing my weapons in their usual places, I walked around the bed and climbed carefully onto it, jostling the mattress as little as possible.

Then, I moved as close to her as I could without really moving her, settled my arm over her middle, and closed my eyes. Within moments, a dreamless sleep claimed me.

∞∞∞

Veta

Blissfully pain-free, I woke to the sensation of being wrapped in warmth. A subtle citrus note filled my nose as I snuggled deeper beneath the heavy blankets twisted around my middle. Then, I realized I wasn’t pushing against a blanket but an arm, Casimir’s arm.

“Shh.” Casimir’s breath caressed my cheek as he nuzzled closer against my back. Even through the layers of my clothing and his, he radiated solid heat. “Rest. You haven’t slept long enough yet.”

My eyelids were heavy, and my mind was hazy. Slipping down into sleep again was a tempting proposition, but my stomach disagreed. It growled.

Casimir’s hand pressed against it. “When was the last time you ate?”

“Before I left to try to rescue Orin’s family.” By the tightening of my gut, it felt like it had been days. Months had passed since I had last felt the pinch of hunger this strongly. But it was nothing compared to before meeting Casimir. “I can wait.”

“No.” He groaned softly and rolled away.

I blinked into the darkness of our shrouded room. Although I knew he saw perfectly well, I was blind. I listened as he padded across the room, making no attempt to move as silently. A few moments later, he returned and pressed something into my hand.

“What is this? I can’t see,” I reminded him.

He muttered an elvish phrase, and a soft glow emanated from the walls, casting just enough light so I could see my husband’s rumpled form moving about the room. He accessed some magic and produced a mug of water out of thin air and then offered it to me as I sat up and swung my feet to the floor.

I accepted it, setting it on the table next to the bed before examining the package still in my hand. It was a pouch. Within was a kind of bread containing baked nuts and fruit. I nibbled at it. A burst of savory sweetness filled my mouth.

Meanwhile, Casimir shuffled around the bed in search of his boots. Crossing to the chair opposite me, he began putting them on.

“What are you doing?” I asked between bites.

Casimir lifted his head just enough to meet my gaze while he laced his boots. His mussed hair fell into his silvery-green eyes. He grimaced slightly. “Illeron knows we are awake and has summoned me.” Straightening, he closed his eyes. “Sometimes, I regret living here. My brother knows my every move.”

“Why do you?” I asked.

“It has been convenient. At least it was until I married you. Now, it grows less so.” He studied my features with a slight smile. “I am growing to realize that we might need a bit more space.”

“Oh?” Not that I minded living with so many people around, but the idea of a place of our own sounded pleasant. “Orin too?”

He considered it. “I hadn’t thought of that, but yes, Orin too. He is your brother and not nearly as nosy as mine.”

I laughed. “You haven’t spent enough time with him, apparently. He can be very nosy.”

Casimir shook his head. “Illeron knows where I am at all times as long as I am within the grounds of his estate, and he can summon me should he wish.”

That was considerably more invasive than Orin poking his nose where it didn’t belong. “So, Illeron’s ability only extends to his estate?” I asked.

Casimir nodded. “Our grandfather set up the spell when the estate was first established. When Illeron inherited it from our father, he took up the spell and the maintenance. I have to admit it makes his extensive work as spymaster slightly easier, but it is occasionally hard on those of us who live here.”

“But it makes your efforts with the war easier.”

“It does.” His gaze narrowed. “Do you wish to stay?”

I eyed the bread in my hands. “I enjoy spending time here, but the idea of having a place of our own is also very appealing.”

“Then we can do both.” He leaned back and grinned at me. “I own land just beyond the edge of this estate, an inheritance from my mother’s side. We can build a house there big enough for the pair of us, Orin, and however many children we wish. That way, whenever you, or Orin, are lonely for company, you can come here to visit Avril and the baby.”

“Orin can still take lessons then.”

“Yes, and there will be less chance that my brother will send my wife off on a dangerous mission when I am not looking.” A fierce flare of anger flashed in his expression.

For a moment, I glimpsed the man others saw—dangerous, violent, and liable to kill someone for looking at him wrong. But I knew the truth now.

“That isn’t how it happened.” Despite the sudden tension between us, I forged on. “Illeron never pressured. I volunteered. Also, the mission wasn’t risky. I had an escort, and it was an in-and-out operation—”

“In a war zone,” Casimir retorted.

“The war hadn’t reached it yet. Besides, it wasn’t your brother’s choice to volunteer. It was mine.” I glared at him. “I will not have you blaming your brother for something I chose to do. If you want to get mad at someone, be angry with me.” I hesitated for a second when I realized his expression had remained thunderous.

“Why did you do it?” he demanded.

“For my brother.” I met his gaze evenly, despite the coil of pain and fear in my gut. “It was far less dangerous and foolish than what you did when you went on a solo crusade to eliminate the shadow elf that targeted Avril.” As confident as I was in the strength of my position, I hated being at odds. “You almost died.”

“It doesn’t negate my point.” The intensity of his expression burned through me before he dropped his head, hiding his face.

I blinked back tears. “And what was that?”

“I want to keep you safe. And if that means we must move far away from my brother and his dangerous influence, we will. If it means I have to give up my work, I will.” His hand shook where it lay against his thigh. “I never want to risk losing you again.”

Before I blinked, Casimir had crossed the space between us, hauled me up against him, and buried his face in the curve of my neck. “I love you,” he whispered. His breath caressed my ear as he kissed the skin beneath it. “Please, promise me you won’t do anything foolish,” he pleaded.

Closing my eyes, I embraced him back, soaking in his presence. “I promise, love.”

∞∞∞

Chapter Fourteen

Casimir

Veta’s slender form pressed against my side as I walked with her through the corridor to my brother’s study. Her arm rested around my waist, and mine encircled her shoulders. I savored the closeness.

We reached the study doorway without meeting a soul. Not even the shadows contained an elf. The door stood open. Beyond it, Illeron stood in the brightness of the morning light falling through the expansive windows. He looked over his shoulder as we entered and greeted us with a wide grin.

“Casimir, Veta, come meet your niece.”

Veta eagerly approached, her eyes focused on the bundle in my brother’s arms. “It is a girl? How is Avril?” She balanced on her toes to peek into the baby’s blankets.

“Yes. We named her Elysia. Avril is doing well. Hopefully, she is sleeping. I am trying to give her a break between feedings because this little one is ravenous.”

Illeron eyed me warily over Veta’s bent head as she cooed to the infant. “I have an apology to make,” he began.

“And I,” I rushed to insert.

He paused, frowning at me. “Avril reminded me of how I would feel if I had been in your shoes. You were right. I was careless.”

“Not you too.” Veta huffed up at him. “I made the choice, not you.”

“I facilitated it and put you at risk.”

Veta rolled her eyes. “You two both need to stop it. Avril and I are adult women. Yes, we don’t have the skills you two have, but that doesn’t negate our ability to decide for ourselves. If she was here, she would agree, whether or not you find our reasons logical.”

Illeron’s eyebrows rose. “I sense I stepped on a trigger.”

“We just finished discussing this topic,” I admitted.

My brother assessed my features. “And?”

“We are moving to my land as soon as I can build a home for us.”

Illeron accepted this with a nod of his head. “I wondered how long it would take you to realize the necessity.”

I snorted. “You could’ve mentioned the possibility.”

He shrugged. “Why? You would conclude it on your own, eventually. So, what plans do you have for Orin?”

“He will come with us.” Veta moved back to my side, slipping her arms around my waist again as she leaned her head against my chest. She lifted her head to regard Illeron again. “Though, I would love for him to continue lessons.”

“I hoped you would say that. Orin shows exceptional potential, and I would hate for it to be squandered on his latest scheme.”

“What is it this time?” Veta asked with a heavy sigh. “Breeding an animal? Planting something?”

Illeron laughed, startling the child cradled against his chest. A hearty wail filled the room. Conversation forgotten, my brother immediately devoted all his attention to quieting the child. Rocking and crooning to her, he whispered nonsensical things over the tiny being in his arms.

Veta whispered that she was going to go find Orin. “I wish to be the one to give him the news about our plans.” With that, she caressed my hand before slipping out through the door into the passageway.

“Alone at last,” Illeron muttered as the child’s cries finally quieted. He opened his mouth to say something else but paused. His gaze unfocused as though he heard something distantly. “Avril is awake, and she needs me. Hold her, please.” He shoved the bundled child into my arms and dashed out the door as well.

A bit stunned at everyone’s sudden exit, I squinted in the bright sunlight. So much change had been wrought in such a short time.

A soft cry from the small creature in my arms drew my attention down to her, only to be stunned into silence. Elysia was clearly Avril and Illeron’s child. A riot of light auburn curls created a lovely halo around her tiny head. She had the Whispier nose, and her eyebrows arched like her mother’s. The mouth rooting at her fist had all her father’s stubbornness, as did her jaw. But what stunned me most was the color of her skin. It matched my coppery hue.

Although I knew each elven birth had an equal chance of producing a light or shadow elf, I had thought a half-light elf, half-human child would inevitably be a light elf. Elysia clearly had proven my expectations wrong. She blinked up at me with the iconic silvery-green Whispier eyes, screwed up her tiny face, and let out a plaintive wail.

“Shh,” I murmured, drawing on what little experience I had with children. They liked movement and cuddling, oh, and singing. I rocked my niece and began singing a lullaby that I recalled my mother singing when Illeron and I were small. It was about birds, flowers, and trees. She settled with her fist in her mouth, sucking it noisily.

Once I finished the song, I sang a second, pacing and swinging her gently to the tune. On the last beat of the refrain, I turned to find Veta standing in the doorway with a soft, wistful expression in her eyes.

“I didn’t know you sang,” she whispered.

I shrugged. “There was never an opportunity.”

“Is she asleep?”

“It looks like it.” I crossed to the chaise Illeron kept in the study for Avril to rest on. Perching on the edge, I adjusted my hold on Elysia. “Are they always this small?”

Veta laughed softly. “My expertise is with human children, and generally, yes, they are.” She approached, but she wove her fingers through my hair instead of interacting with the child in my arms.

Blissful, I leaned into her touch.

“How many of these are you planning on having?” she asked.

Distracted by her fingers massaging my scalp, I struggled to think straight. “I was hoping for two, three, five—I am not sure.”

She kissed my forehead. “It sounds like you are interested in quite a few then.”

I moaned softly when her fingers found my ear and traced the delicate tip. “As long as they take after you more than me.”

“I would be amenable to that.” Veta rested against me, filling my senses with her spell of touch, smell, and sound. If I hadn’t had Elysia in my arms, I would have dragged my wife back to our chambers.

The baby stirred again. This time there was no prelude to tears. Elysia didn’t even bother to open her eyes. Instead, she went straight to an open-mouthed wail of tortured agony, ripping at the heart.

“Oh, she’s hungry. Where is Avril?” Veta asked as she opened her arms for the baby. “Elysia needs her mother.”

“I am here!” Avril’s voice reached us before she did. Sweeping into the room with Illeron on her heels, she claimed Elysia. Illeron shooed me off the chaise. Within moments, mother and child had settled amidst the blankets and pillows. Feeding began.

“Have you broken your fast?” Illeron asked as the three of us retreated from the room and allowed Avril privacy.

“We haven’t.” I didn’t consider Veta’s snack a meal.

“Then, let us visit Waldorf. He has been cooking up a storm. Apparently, a baby entering the house is reason enough to produce food for an army. I don’t know how we’re going to eat it all before it goes bad.” Illeron clasped my shoulder as we walked. “We have plans to make, and that is always better done on a full stomach.”

∞∞∞

Epilogue

Six years later…

Veta

The evening sun teased the western horizon, casting long shadows with its golden light. A summer breeze slipped through our gardens and rustled the trees. The scents of mint and raspberries mingled with the hum of the bees from the hives over the hill. Behind me, laughter poured out of the open doors and windows as Orin and the twins chased Elysia through the downstairs rooms.

My focus, though, was not on the elegant, homey structure behind me or the hints of dinner on the breeze. I watched for my husband. He was overdue from his trip to his brother’s home. There were whispers of unrest again among the warlords. The Wild Hunt continued to terrorize the northern farmlands, and the elf king was cursed. Casimir rarely went out on missions now that we had children at home. Illeron needed him to serve more as a commander than a spy, but that didn’t stop me from wishing his time from home was shorter.

“Momma?” Cethin ran into my skirts, burying his face there before looking up at me. His copper skin and black hair reminded me so much of his father. I ruffled the strands, drawing them away from his silvery-green Whispier eyes.

“Yes, son?”

“Sombra is annoying Elysia.” His full bottom lip jutted out. “Elysia keeps threatening to drop her in the pond.”

“Elysia knows better. She won’t dunk your sister.”

“But what if I want her to get dunked?” he whined.

“Elysia won’t dunk Sombra. Now, get back inside and get ready for dinner. Your father will be home soon.”

“Yes, Mother.” With a silent puff of air, he wraithwalked to the gazebo’s shadow, half the distance between me and the house. Then, he raced the rest of the way on foot.

I felt Casimir’s arrival before I heard him. “Was that Cethin?” He wrapped his arms around me from behind, enveloping me in his warmth and the sense of security he always evoked.

“Yes, he is concerned about his sister.” I closed my eyes as I leaned back into my husband’s solid length. Tall, broad-shouldered, and strong as the day I met him, he smelled the same too. Breathing deeply, I smiled.

Casimir kissed my temple before turning me to face him. His features hadn’t changed over the years either. Bright arresting eyes, foreboding dark brows, and a thick fall of black hair that made me think of midnight and darkness and the familiar love I found there. I reached up and pulled his head down to mine, welcoming him home with a deep kiss.

When we finally broke apart reluctantly because the children’s voices were approaching from the house, he pressed another kiss to my temple. “Something you want to tell me?” he asked.

“Later,” I whispered in return.

He drew back to study me through narrowed eyes. “Why wait?”

I smiled up at him before placing his hand on my stomach.

His eyes widened. “Again.”

I chuckled. “It shouldn’t be that much of a surprise, all things considered.”

“True, but still, so soon? Is it safe for them to be this close together?”

Then I laughed in earnest. “The twins are five, love.”

“But elven—”

I stopped him there with fingers to his mouth. “I am not an elf. Usually, humans can have a pregnancy once every other year with no adverse side effects.”

“Did Merlon tell you that?”

I huffed. “Merlon is an elf.”

“But he is the greatest healer—”

“In our generation,” I finished for him. “I know. You can contact him after dinner and ask him yourself, but not until the children are in bed.”

“Papa!” Cethin materialized a few feet from us and hurled himself at his father’s legs. Sombra wasn’t far behind him. Though, as a light elf, she had to run the entire way from the house.

“Uncle Casimir,” Elysia intoned as she appeared shortly after the twins. Orin brought up the rear. A thin and lanky young man trying to appear older than he was, he held back. However, a warm smile filled his face.

“Now we can eat!” Cethin declared with a shout and a little dance.

“Not until you wash up,” Casimir admonished. “You have until your mother and I make it to the dining room to wash and get in your seats, or no dessert.”

A chorus of protests quickly transitioned into excited squeals as the four children ran for the house.

“So Elysia is staying for dinner?” I asked as we began our leisurely stroll toward the house. I leaned against him as we walked.

“Actually, I invited Illeron and Avril to come over this evening. The baby is already in bed, so it’ll just be them.”

“Perfect.”

“Veta?” Casimir eased us to a halt beneath the shade of the gazebo.

“Hmm?” I turned to look him only to be captured in the pull of his enigmatic gaze.

He caressed my cheek, fingers lingering on the curve. “I love you, wife.”

“I love you, too.”

Then he kissed me in the darkness with wisps of shadow and shade gathering around us.

∞∞∞

The elves return in

The Elf King’s Sacrifice

Elves of Eldarlan - Book Three

The King of Eldarlan hates parties. Superficial conversations and social niceties never come easy for him. So when he is cursed to host human princesses at a party every night, he considers it mild torture. Until a particularly unusual princess appears one night wrapped in a worn robe with bare feet and tousled hair.

Kate had been a princess only a matter of hours before being pulled from her bed by a magical spell. It drops her in an enchanted garden populated by coolly detached elves and princesses of various ages. Attempting to avoid the unsolicited advice of her new peers, she retreats to the dark hedge maze where she encounters her host, a shadow elf. 

Available Now for Preorder

Writing as Elisa Rae

Elves of Eldarlan

The Elven Spymaster’s Thief

The Shadow Elf’s Rescuer

The Elf King’s Sacrifice

(coming soon)

The Elven Healer’s Apprentice

(coming soon)

The Shadow Elf’s Mark

(coming soon)

Writing as Rachel Rossano

Once Upon a Duchy

(Novels Inspired by Fairy Tales)

Grace by Contract

Reclaiming Ryda

Rumpled Rhett

Novels of Rhynan

(Medieval Romances)

Duty

Honor

Mercy

Making of a Man

(a short story anthology)

The Talented

(Inspirational Fantasy)

Seventh Born

The Defender

Living Sacrifice

About the Author

A reader of fairytales and folklore, Elisa Rae loves a happy ending. Noblebright characters, dastardly villains, and chemistry between characters delight her. When she isn’t writing, she loves to watch superhero movies and literary dramas.

If you like romantic adventures of various kinds, join her at: https://www.rachelrossano.com/elisa-rae!

To keep up with her literary adventures, feel free to follow her on Amazon (https://www.amazon.com/Elisa-Rae/e/B09NV5XYMV) or check out her Facebook page (https://www.facebook.com/ElisaRaeAuthor).

She is also active on Instagram (https://www.instagram.com/anavrea/)