Page 169
Story: Fate Calls the Elf Queen
He groaned and nuzzled his nose in the nape of her neck. “I really wish I could put her head on a pike.”
“You and me both.”
“But knowing her, she’ll fight and scheme and do everything in her power to make sure you get your immortality back, for herself. And I think she proved she’s even better at scheming than me.”
His button-up shirt was left open to his chest, revealing his runes and the lily mark. She drew little circles on his bare skin. “If she so much as looks at you.”
“I’ll put her in her place. Don’t worry, these eyes are only for you.” He turned her face and kissed her lips softly. “I want to marry you again. Or at least renew our vows. It’s been too long; too much has happened. I want to be married to Miss Lightbringer, too.”
He nipped at her neck, and she giggled. “A closet romantic.”
“I’ll get you a new ring to represent both the elf and the goddess. Your Aunt and your friends will always see you as Layala,” Hel said.
She couldn’t help but smile. “Be careful. Your heart is showing. And I’ll get you a new ring, too.”
“You’ll have to because I destroyed my last one.”
“Of course, you did,” she said and rolled her eyes.
He laughed and it sounded joyous and wonderful. “And this is the part where you say ‘Yes, Hel, the most wise and powerful god, I will.”
She chuckled, thinking back on their training sessions where he told her to call him that, and gave him a brief kiss. “Yes, Hel, the most wise and powerful god, I will marry you again.”
* * *
The round stoneportal in the middle of the unnamed forest looked as beautiful and ancient as it ever had. Bits of moss grew at the edges of the weathered gray stone. The red thorny roses at its base were in full bloom. The sun shined down through the thick trees above creating streaks of golden light.
Leif stood at attention, his bright blue eyes keenly searching the area around them. This forest was notorious for dangerous creatures, after all. “When you open it, will they know?”
“Not unless they try to travel outside the realm,” Valeen answered with her moon and stars crown glittering on her head.
“They probably have someone test it every day,” Piper murmured, toying with one of her red braids. Looking at her made her think of Fennan back at the castle, left in charge as regent until High King Thane’s return. He said he would keep that name among the elves, but they could call him War if they wanted.
“For two thousand years?” Tif said, creeping out from behind Valeen’s boot. “Seems like a bit of a stretch. Exhausting too.”
“They’ll test it often enough. We won’t have much time before they know,” Presco said, adjusting his glasses.
With crossed arms and a smug chagrin, Varlett nodded in agreement. “The spies will tell if not.”
War scratched at his smooth cheek, brushed a hand over his Raven-armored chest with the emblem of Palenor on it. Valeen wore her Raven armor too, a tribute to Layala Fightbringer.
“This is going to take strategy, finesse. We can’t waltz in there to demand our immortality back,” Hel said in black battle leathers. A much lighter armor than the rest of them wore.
“Clearly,” War said all but rolling his eyes.
“If my wards still stand, we’ll have a stronghold in House of Night. They’ll fight for me.”
“Home.” Presco smiled at that.
“And if the wards don’t stand?” Hel asked.
“It won’t matter. We’ll find a way. We’ll face whatever it is head-on. We are warriors. Warriors like the sword are beaten, burned, and battered but through it are made stronger.” Valeen thought about her last moments before the blade came down across her neck. How she’d gazed at the two people she loved most and how she’d drawn on their power to close the way, paid for with their lives. The goddess of wisdom once said the key to ending the curse in Adalon was Hel’s heart. She had that now. He wasn’t bitter and angry anymore.
The key to opening the portal was the three of them being one again, fighting on the same side. The curse would no longer exist in Adalon. Hel kept the pale ones confined to the Void until they would call on them in Runevale to fight.
“Give me your hands.”
Hel and Thane both held out their palms and she took them, squeezing them both, drawing on their power. She felt their magic mingle with hers, Hel’s, dark and cool, War’s, warm and bright. There was no pressure on one or the other to be stronger or to fight. They were at peace, finally. The three magics seemed to have missed each other as they warmed her body and made her almost giddy.
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