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31 THARAN

Tharan tried to sleep, but his mind was a mess of tangled thoughts. The escape from Elohim left them all scarred. He twisted the whisper stone, not caring if anyone saw him talking on it. He needed to hear Aelia’s voice, but nothing came through the line. Worry tugged at his heart, but he pushed it to the side, he had other things to worry about. Aelia could take care of herself.

Driving the horses as fast as they could go, they raced through the elven Kingdom of Eden toward the Woodland Realm. If they were lucky, they could find a portal along the way, but Tharan knew word of their treachery would spread quickly, and a sylph traveling with six elven maidens and four dire wolves would look suspicious on an average day.

When the horses needed a rest, they stopped beside a babbling brook. The women flung themselves out of the carriage, running down to the stream.

Tharan threw up a silencing shield.

“What are we going to do with them?” Hopper asked, hands on his hips.

Tharan brushed his auburn locks out of his eyes.

“We’re going to give them a home in the Woodlands if that’s what they choose. Otherwise, they are free to live wherever they like.”

“You think our kingdom is just going to accept them? And what about the kingdoms they came from? Won’t they be wanting their women back?” Hopper paced back and forth in the pale moonlight, rubbing his sharp jaw. “This is a mess. We could have six different elven kingdoms knocking at our door, and for what? They will hunt these girls down if need be. I will not let sylphs die for these women. Figure out something to do with them, Tharan.”

“Okay, well, I can’t really send them back.”

“You can, and you will.”

“We’ll discuss it once we’re back in the Woodlands.” Tharan didn’t want to send the women away, but Hopper was right. Their kingdoms would want them back.

Sumac cleared her throat. “Why don’t we just leave them here?”

Hopper looked at the women sitting on the shore of the brook. “I mean, we could. They’re elvish. A town will accept them.”

“And we can ride on the back of wolves with the Hunt. They’re faster than a carriage, and we will be home in no time.”

Tharan bit the inside of his cheek. The cool night air sent a chill up his spine. He wanted to help the women, but he also had to think about his kingdom. He had done them a favor and gotten them out of the Elohim.

Sighing, he said, “Alright, let’s go. Leave them the carriage. Tell the driver to take them anywhere they want.” His stomach turned at the thought of betraying the women, but he couldn’t take them with him.

Sumac whistled, and the Hunt sauntered over on the backs of their massive wolves. Their silken fur shone in the pale moonlight. Tharan patted one on the head. The fierce beast whined like a puppy for more.

“She never even does that for me,” the rider said.

“I have a way with creatures.” Tharan mounted the wolf, hooking his arm around the soldier’s waist.

Sumac and Hopper did the same.

“Hold on, my Lord. Once I let her go. There’ll be no stopping her.”

Tharan took one last look at the women chatting by the river and swallowed the guilt gnawing at his heart.

He tried the whisper stone one more time. Nothing.

“Sir? Are you ready?”

The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, but he pushed the ill feeling away to focus on the immediate worries.

“Let’s go.”

The riders clicked their tongues, and the wolves sprinted off into the night. Tharan didn’t dare look back.

They rode until the sun crested over the horizon. Far from home but closer than they had been, they took shelter in a copse of pines.

“We’ll let the wolves rest during the day. It’s safer for us to travel at night,” Sumac said, dismounting.

“How far are we from the Court of Malts? At least they’ll be friendly and likely have a portal.”

Sumac looked at the sky, squinting to make out the fading stars. “I’d say we’re at least two days’ ride away.”

He rested his head against the trunk of a tree. The night’s events took a toll on him, and his body begged for sleep. Twisting the whisper stone, he hoped the sound of Aelia’s voice would calm him.

He waited for the sound of her high-pitched voice, but she didn’t answer. Was she mad at him? They’d quarreled over the proposed marriage, but he thought they’d moved past it.

A sinking feeling in his stomach told him what he’d always feared. Something had happened to Aelia, and he hadn’t been there to protect her. Once again he’d failed the one he loved.

“You okay?” Hopper asked, taking a seat next to Tharan.

Not wanting to alarm his friend, he buried the feeling deep down. He had to be strong for his kingdom. He had to get them to safety, then he could worry about Aelia.

“As well as can be expected.” Tharan rested his hands on his chest. “I knew it wouldn’t be easy to persuade Arendir to help us. I just didn’t think it would be this hard.” He rubbed the bridge of his perfectly straight nose. “And those women… we just left them.”

Hopper let out a long sigh.

“You have always wanted to save everyone, Tharan. You are king now, and it’s high time you learned that not everyone can or wants to be saved.”

“I know,” Tharan said, shutting his eyes. “But I hate that I can’t.”

“That’s just something you must learn to live with.”

“I suppose you’re right.”

Tharan awoke just as the sun was setting. A feeling of dread sat like a pile of rocks in his stomach. Something wasn’t right. Hopper still slumbered beside him, and Sumac prepared the wolves for another ride, her short hair pulled back behind her ears. Was it his guilt from leaving the women eating him up inside, was it Aelia, or was it something else?

“Ready to go?” Sumac said, tightening the girth of one of the massive wolves.

“I guess so,” Tharan replied. “Sumac?”

She arched a brow at her friend.

“Does something feel… off?”

She scoffed.

“Something has felt off since the moment we entered the elven kingdom. You’ll have to be more specific.”

Tharan got to his feet, wiping the snow from his behind. “I have a terrible sense of dread.”

“You’re the one with the intuitive powers. You’d know better than me.”

“I don’t trust myself after what happened back there.”

Sumac placed a hand on her friend’s shoulder. “Don’t beat yourself about it. Anyone would have been disoriented in that situation.”

Tharan swallowed the hot taste of embarrassment.

“A king should know better.”

“You have only been king for a short while. No one expects you to be your father right away.”

Tharan sighed.

“I know, but he was so beloved. I don’t want to dishonor his memory.”

“Your father was beloved, that is true, but he never got to be with this true love, Elowen. You honor him by doing what he could not. You honor him by trying to save the forest he loved so dearly,” Sumac said, her normally stoic demeanor softening.

“Thanks.”

“We better get going,” Hopper said, rubbing sleep from his eyes. “If we ride through the night, we can hopefully make it to the Court of Malts by tomorrow.”

They rode silently and swiftly as shadows through the vast lands of the elven Kingdom of Eden, so named because it was considered heaven to the elves. With its rolling hills and fertile soil, it provided everything the immortals needed to survive.

The stillness of the forest unnerved Tharan. In the Woodlands, he could control the magic, but here, the magic was different. Older, wilder. Arendir said he knew everything that happened on this continent. Why hadn’t he alerted his outposts the women were missing? Was he lying or…

As if summoned by Tharan’s thoughts, an arrow whizzed past his head.

“Archers! In the trees!” Sumac called. Her rider pulled their wolf to the left. Arrows rained down upon them, striking the wolves but not harming them. Dire wolves were bred to have thick hides.

“Split up!” Tharan called. The four wolves and their riders divided. He hoped they would all make it to the next court alive. His heart raced as they moved swiftly through the trees.

The elves wanted him alive; they wouldn’t kill him, but they would do whatever it took to stop him.

The elves’ breath turned to vapor in the cool night air, giving away their hiding places. Tharan summoned his power. A fire lit beneath his skin, and he fired poisonous darts into the trees where the mist lingered.

The sound of an elf falling to his death and landing in the snow echoed through the silent forest. How many were there? How did they find them?

“Hold on,” the soldier guiding his wolf said, turning the creature violently and flinging Tharan to the ground.

The cold snow bit into his skin, and a rogue stick ripped a gash in his cheek.

“Got you now,” a voice said through the darkness.

Tharan tried to shake the stars blurring his vision. He stumbled to his feet, calling more spikes to his hands.

“Stay back.”

Five elven soldiers emerged through the darkness, tall and sleek, their armor shining in the moonlight. Tharan gripped his sword.

“Come with us, Lord, and no one will get hurt.”

A dire wolf growled behind him.

“Leave now, or I will have my wolf tear you to bits. You will not take me back to Elohim.”

“Are you really foolish enough to attack an elf on our own land?” The elf smirked, and tiny creases formed around his eyes.

Tharan’s palms wetted with sweat, his rapid breath turning to vapor in the cool night air, casting a halo around the ethereal figures. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

“What are you smiling at, half-breed?”

“You forget, oh wise and ancient ones… this may be your territory, but I am king of the Alders in all domains.” The sound of creaking wood echoed through the forest. The elves looked around, trying to find the source of the sound, but it was too late for them.

Spikes jutted from the forest floor, skewering two of the men before they had time to scream. Their bodies dangled limply on the wooden spires.

This far from the Woodlands, Tharan’s power was not as strong as he hoped. He tried to call for more, but something was blocking his magic.

The lead elf let out a cackle.

“Something wrong, Lord?” He tapped a purple jewel on his headdress. “It’s a violet diamond pulled from the deepest depths of the Cheyne Mountains. Blocks magic.” He circled Tharan, looking down his long nose at him. “But yours must be particularly strong to have any of it work.” He snapped his fingers, and Tharan felt the power drain from his limbs. He’d seen a stone like this once before.

“Fucking elves,” he whispered under his breath.

“Yes, you recognize this stone, don’t you?” Twigs crunched beneath his feet. “It’s similar to the one my sister, Lysandra, had.”

Tharan swallowed hard. Lysandra had a brother. This must be him. He’d been waiting five hundred years for this moment. “Cassius.”

“Yes, I’m surprised you remembered after so long.” His sunken eyes raked over Tharan. Tall and slim, he resembled his sister with his high cheekbones and sharp-cut chin. “Kneel,” he said in a voice as soft as tanned leather.

Magic swirled around Tharan like a snake around a mouse. His eyes darted to the wolf behind his back, and the two elves flanking him with their bows nocked.

“Don’t even think about it,” Cassius said smugly.

“Don’t hurt the wolf.”

“Come with us, and I won’t have to.”

“You’ll have to kill me.”

Cassius clicked his tongue.

“Now, now, you can’t do that.” He removed his gloves before sending his fist flying into Tharan’s jaw.

Tharan’s teeth came down hard on his tongue at the impact, filling his mouth with blood. He knew better than to let them see his pain. He’d been in plenty of fights with elves.

“Is that the best you’ve got? You’re growing weak in your old age.” He spit blood into the snow.

Another ringed fist hit his cheek, slicing his skin. He sucked in a breath, trying to dull the pain.

“A scar to match the one my sister gave you.”

“I loved your sister, Cassius. She betrayed me. It was war.”

Cassius crouched so his eyes met Tharan’s.

“Even in war, they send the bodies of the dead home. My parents had no ashes to cast into the wind. Do you know what that was like for them?”

Tharan clenched his jaw.

“She knew the risks when she decided to play both sides.”

The crack of Tharan’s nose breaking echoed through the forest, and he fought back tears welling in his eyes, kneeling in the frigid snow.

The dire wolf snapped at Cassius, but he dodged its powerful jaws.

“Watch your dog, or I’ll wear his hide as a pelt.”

Tharan held a hand to the wolf, who backed away, bowing to his king.

“Good,” Cassius said, malice gleamed his blue eyes. “Get up.”

Tharan did as he commanded, just as two long swords skewered the two elves before him.

Blood trickled from their stunned mouths.

“Wha—” the wolf pounced on Cassius before he could finish his sentence, shaking him violently and flinging him into the nearest trees.

A flash of green light lit up the forest. Cassius could portal.

Sumac and the other soldier sliced the heads off the two remaining elves.

“Try coming back from that,” Sumac said, pulling the teeth from the man’s mouth.

“Good work,” Tharan said, wiping the snow from his pants.

“It was nothing. My teeth collection was looking a bit thin.” She held up an incisor to the moonlight. “These will do nicely.”

“Let’s get out of here before Cassius comes back with reinforcements.” A thousand pins and needles poked into Tharan’s skin as his magic returned to its full strength, healing his broken nose.

Climbing onto their wolves, they sped off into the forest. Tharan let out a sigh of relief, but somehow, he knew he hadn’t seen the last of Cassius.