Page 115 of Alora: The Portal (Alora 2)

body. With Wesley and Daegreth’s aid, he pulled Alleraen to the side.

“Is he alive?” asked Wesley.

Beth bent to check his neck for a pulse. “His heart’s still beating, but it’s slow. I can see him breathing, at least for now.”

“He hasn’t enough strength left to bring Alora fully back to consciousness.” Jireo moved back to kneel beside Kaevin, hopelessness written in the slump of his shoulders. “We’re too late. I can feel Kaevin’s death coming.”

“What about Raelene? She’s a blood-relative, right? Couldn’t she give strength?” Beth asked.

“I believe Raelene could give Alora strength, just as Alleraen has, if she were here. But Raelene’s gone to Glaenshire to comb the Craedenza for information about soulmates.” Jireo looked up with tears streaking his face. “I fear Alora’s grandmother has wasted her time and efforts, for Alora and Kaevin will surely die before we can travel to the healing house.”

“Grandmother,” Alora mumbled.

*****

At the end of the second day of travel, Raelene was concerned about Bardamen’s continued brooding. They shared a meal of cheese and bread while sitting side-by-side on a log, and Bardamen’s only contribution to the conversation was an occasional noncommittal murmur.

“The clouds are blocking the moonlight tonight. It’s quite dark despite the full moon, isn’t it?” Raelene tried to prompt a response.

“Umm-hmm.”

I don’t think he’s even listening to me. “I think you should sleep with the horses tonight.”

“Umm-hmm.”

“Perhaps my mare is your soulmate. Have you considered that possibility?”

“Umm-hmm.”

“She told me she thinks you’re attractive. Do you feel the same?”

“Umm-hmm.”

“Then it’s settled, Bardamen.” She pounded him on the back. “Congratulations! I’m glad you’ve found a suitable girl to marry.”

Bardamen choked on his bread, turning his head to stare at her with wide eyes. “A suitable girl to marry? Are you speaking of Meravelle? She’s completely unacceptable. She doesn’t meet any of the qualifications. Well… perhaps she meets a few. She’s from another clan. And I suppose some men might consider her pretty, in an unusual sort of way.

“I’d never be attracted to her, of course. She’s much too short, and her eyes are almost too big. Her lashes are so long, they’re a bit distracting, and her hair is quite unruly—terribly curly. With that soft skin she has, I’m certain she couldn’t walk more than a few steps in a forest without being injured by some stray twig.

“Even if her physical appearance were acceptable, I wouldn’t be interested in marrying her. She’s much too arrogant and generally disagreeable. No, she’s not suitable in the least. I can’t even imagine why you’d make the suggestion.” He flung his open palm in the air for emphasis.

Raelene gave her head a shake and blinked, realizing she’d stopped in mid-bite, her hand poised with a chunk of cheese close to her lips.

“Pardon me, Bardamen. I can certainly see why you wouldn’t want to marry Meravelle. She’d be too much of a challenge for you.”

“Yes, exactly… Wait. What do you mean, ‘too much of a challenge’?”

“Only that you wanted someone sweet and submissive. I can see why you’d prefer that, though I’d find it a bit boring myself. Yet you’re correct… being married to Meravelle would be too stimulating for you. We’ll continue to search for a more dull and docile candidate.”

“Right.” Bardamen sounded uncertain. “Dull and docile…”

Raelene hid her smile as she turned her attention back to her cheese. But when the log, which had been her seat, suddenly disappeared, she lost her balance and tumbled to the ground, crying out as the cheese and bread slipped from her fingers. The forest floor vanished, replaced by a hard wood surface.

Where am I? What happened? Then her eyes fell on a shocking sight.

Alora.

*****