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He tilted his head to better face Melantha without moving from his slumped position against the wall. “How are you? Your letters indicated the trolls have become more accepting of you.”

Melantha’s smile lit her face this time. “Rharreth still has to challenge a troll to a fight in the training arena now and then. But it has been much better. Especially now that I have discovered I can defend myself with my healing magic.” She raised her hand, showing him a glimmer of green magic around her fingertips. “It seems to elicit fear and awe that I can subdue even the strongest troll warrior with a mere touch. Even if I am simply sending them to sleep for a few minutes, they fear that I can make them so vulnerable.”

“I can understand that.” Farrendel drew up his knees so that he sat cross-legged on the workbench. He had been raised among the elven healers, knowing their capabilities and the ethical oaths of healing that bound them.

But it had been over a thousand years since the mountain elves—now called trolls—and the forest elves had split apart into two different peoples. The trolls no longer had experience with elven healers. It would be terrifying to know someone could send a warrior to sleep, where he could be killed with no chance to resist if Melantha and Rharreth so chose.

“In Kostaria, such strength is admired, even if it is also feared.” Melantha shrugged. “We have gained the loyalty of the people and united Kostaria far more than I believed possible right at first. It means we can focus on more important things, rather than constantly fighting off challenges to Rharreth’s reign.”

“Good.” While Farrendel did not necessarily like the thought of a stronger Kostaria, he was thankful that his sister would be far safer than she was when she first married Rharreth.

Melantha stared down at her hands in her lap for a long moment before she reached into a pocket and drew out a round stone. It had a hole in the top, through which a leather string had been threaded. Melantha fiddled with the stone, opening and closing her mouth as if she was trying to gather the courage to speak.

Finally, she turned to Farrendel. “I have something for you, but you can say no if you wish.”

Farrendel shifted to better face her, but he did not interrupt her.

“The way you, Rharreth, Weylind, and I combined our power in the bridge over the Gulmorth inspired me to experiment in a way that would not have occurred to me before.” Melantha turned the stone over in her hands, looking at it rather than at Farrendel. “I took some stones from the section of mountain that has been seared with your magic, then Rharreth molded them while I infused them with my magic. I hope that they can provide a kind of constant protection against the effects of stone on an elf. But I am so far unsure if the stone is working or if I am simply healing myself by habit.”

She held out the stone to Farrendel.

He hesitated, braced himself, and took it. The stone was too small to have caused him pain, even if it had been normal. But something warm and soothing washed over him when the stone touched his skin. “It feels…different.”

“Good.” Without the stone to fiddle with, Melantha instead twisted her fingers together in her lap. “I am hoping you will wear it and tell me if it works when you visit Winstead Palace.”

Farrendel stared down at the tiny stone in his hand. While the connection between his magic and the elishina prevented him from being cut off from his magic, he still experienced headaches from stone. That made it difficult to join in some of the activities at Winstead Palace or enter the buildings at Hanford University. But this stone might eliminate even that mild discomfort and make all the difference for getting his degree.

“Linshi, isciena.” Farrendel glanced up at Melantha, studying her face. “Rharreth is willing to give me this?”

Melantha nodded, holding his gaze. “Yes. From what I can tell, my magic only lasts a few months in the stone, so we will send you a new one as often as you need.”

Farrendel held the tiny stone in his hand, not sure how to reply. It was a gift of reconciliation from Melantha, the sister who had betrayed him. But Rharreth was essentially erasing Farrendel’s one weakness, even though Farrendel was still seen as the trolls’ greatest enemy, despite the peace treaty between Tarenhiel and Kostaria.

“Linshi.” The single thank you was not nearly enough, but Farrendel was not sure what else to say.

Melantha’s smile turned wry. “To be honest, this is not entirely out of the goodness of my heart. I have personal reasons for this, and I need your help to experiment in ways I cannot. While the stone of Kostaria does not bother me since I can heal myself, there is a chance that my children could inherit the elven weakness to stone and yet not inherit healing magic. My child would suffer a difficult childhood, trying to grow up in Kostaria while susceptible to stone. I cannot let that happen.”

Melantha’s worries for her future children echoed his. Still, he forced a smile. “Are you trying to tell me something?”

She gave a returning smile, though it lacked the answering humor he had hoped for. “No. But I do not want to wait until it is a problem to figure out a solution. I even worry that all the stone might harm the child even while I am in a family way, if I cannot figure out how to heal him or her when I heal myself. It has been many centuries since an elf has been around so much stone while expecting.”

Farrendel started, facing Melantha more fully. As if he did not have enough worries about his and Essie’s baby right now. “Is that a concern? What about a child that Essie and I have? Would we have to worry about stone harming the baby?”

Melantha studied his face, her eyes softening. “You are not asking just hypothetically, are you?”

He probably should deny it. Only Essie’s mother and Rheva knew. But he could not lie to his sister, nor was he skilled at hiding his worry. “Essie is expecting. We have not made the announcement yet.”

Melantha reached out and gripped his shoulders in the elven version of a hug. “I am happy for you, shashon.”

The tone of her voice was genuine, but there was a sad note to it that had Farrendel pulling out of Melantha’s grip. Even after her betrayal, it still hurt that she was not entirely happy about this news. “Melantha, you do not have to pretend happiness.”

He would rather she be honest than try to spare his feelings. He had suffered enough from her pretense over the years before the truth of her bitterness had come out during her betrayal.

Melantha reached out again with one hand, squeezing his shoulder. “No, no. I am happy for you and Elspetha.” Her expression saddened, and she dropped her hand. “I am—I do not know—jealous, perhaps? Weylind and Rheva were married for many years before Ryfon was finally born, and I am much older than Weylind and Rheva were when they married. Rharreth and I have solidified our place on the throne, but if we cannot produce an heir, then the unrest will return. But it is not only that. I want children, and I know Rharreth does as well. And the thought that we might never…well, it hurts.”

The tips of Farrendel’s ears burned. Now he understood Melantha’s sadness at hearing his and Essie’s news. But this was something she should talk about with Essie or Rheva. Not him. This was a little too honest.

He cleared his throat as he stared down at the stone in his hands. “You have been married less than a year. Perhaps you will find that…you do not have to worry. Dacha and your macha had three children, after all.”