Chapter 32: Too many secrets.
"Someone is going to catch us." Mahon warned, peering out of the broom-closet. "One of these days."
"Kohen already knows. How could he not?" I knotted my hair back at the nape of my neck, smoothing a shaking hand down my coat.
The Captain closed the door behind him softly, glancing up and down the hallway furtively. It made me laugh to see him like that, hair rustled and neck darkened by teeth. "It's impossible to keep a secret from that Zentin."
"And when we find somewhere bigger than a broom closet," I rose up onto my tip-toes, pressing a kiss to the back of his neck. "...we can give him a big secret to stew over."
"You are bold," Mahon turned, pulling me into his arms again. I toyed with the silken curls at the nape of his neck, my smile as sharp as the edge of my Alelang.
"And you are blushing."
"You're impossible." A smile warmed the harsh planes of his face. "And we are late."
I hooked a heel around his leg, a hand against the hard planes of his stomach. He made a rough noise in the back of his throat. "Change the schedule."
He hooked a loose strand of auburn hair over the point of my ear. Against the sensitive point. My jaw tensed at the raw hunger, flooding in. And he knew it too, his smile sharpening. Teasing. "Perhaps I could arrange something."
"My wounds have healed. No chance of an injury this time." I pressed an open mouthed kiss to his throat's pulse.
"Where are we?" The Captain cleared his throat, calculating how long it would take us to get to our bedrooms.
It was then that I felt it. A ripple of magic in the atmosphere. A powerful soul calling out to Adotlan – calling out to the magic-wielders that could answer.
Terrible timing.
"Someone is coming into Adotlan." With a sigh, I pulled away from Mahon. "Someone powerful."
"It's been three days since someone tried to kill you," Mahon smoothed a hand down his chest. "They're late."
I threw a scowl over my shoulder as I headed down the hall. The Captain let out a low laugh and followed. The wind was bitter and cold as I stepped outside, heading up along the walls of the inner bailey. Soldiers inclined their heads in greeting as we passed.
Kohen waited above the gate. He balanced on the edge of the wall, looking as if he was about to take flight. At our approach, a slim ear cut towards us.
"Words. Words. Words, unsaid." Kohen surveyed us from the corner of his eye. "You both look dishevelled."
"I feel it." I planted my forearms onto the wall, staring out to the expansive forest beyond the outer walls. Mahon grumbled under his breath, standing away from us with his hands tucked behind his back.
Outside, the call of magic was stronger. Heavy.
It was definitely magic.
Not that burning silver of the Abyss. Not the torment that ravaged my blood – magic that might be killing me. This was pure. Magic that existed in nature, aimed through one powerful soul: the magic of trees, wind and sky and earth.
Not the magic spun from casting stones either.
"He has arrived," Kohen closed his eyes, face tipped up to the sky. "He comes with the children of the forest. Old, cunning and sad. Vicious. Like you, Avi, he goes by many names. Once a scholar, now a nomad."
The sunlight hit Kohen's eyes as he opened them, the pupils slitting. He had recovered from the incident the other day remarkably well, but for the creature who felt everything, he was remarkably good at hiding his feelings.
"I get overwhelmed." Kohen's attention shifted to me. "There is noise and feelings and light and it gets to be too much. I need time to relax – time to let my senses settle."
"Is that why you don't use it on the battlefield?" I asked, examining the miles of dark forest on either side of Adotlan's only road.
"I only use it when I'm feeling foolish. Emotional." Kohen looked up sharply as a snow-hawk circled overhead, shrieking. "If I did it with too many people around, their fears, their torment would melt into me. I would be trapped in webbing, blind and terrified. It would be too easy to run me through with a blade then."
A large shape appeared on the bridge. As if from nothing.
Kohen smiled grimly. "I am going to cause a lot of problems."
"If it doesn't result in my horrific and painful death, I forgive you." I squeezed his shoulder briefly.
The Zentin's breaths stuck in his breath. "You won't be killed. But people will be angry."
The gates of Adotlan opened. There was a rush throughout the streets. The newcomer was powerful, rich with old magic. Elven. Mahon, overcome by curiosity, approached the wall.
As he rode closer, I saw the great beast he sat astride. A bull elk with towering antlers that reached the length of five feet, inlayed with old Elven runes. His brown coat was glimmering, moved only by the wind. A beautiful beast. An Elk of Veusthyal- home of the High-Elves.
"Your friend is a High-Elf?" I asked incredulously.
Kohen motioned for us to follow him and we descended the steps to the inner courtyard. Foreboding weighed heavy in my gut. I had met one High-Elf before, but Farianne had felt different. Dangerous and powerful in her own way, but this Elf rippled the trees. The very nature around him took note of his coming.
"We should have prepared a bigger welcome," I twisted a tie into my hair desperately, standing in the courtyard.
The gates of the inner began to open.
"No," Kohen said quietly. "He does not like a fuss."
"He is riding into Adotlan on the back of an Elk." Mahon pointed out. "I would consider that a fuss."
"You consider a simple 'good-morning' to be a fuss." I retorted. "Besides, that Elk is one of the few remaining battle-beasts of Veusthyal; home of the High-Elves."
It was a sin, a great insult to cut down the trees of Veusthyal. It was also a grievous crime to hunt a Veusthyal Elk. It was rare that they would venture beyond the ancient forest of the Elves and to see one so was an honour.
"His friend would not leave him. Never." Kohen stared at the inner gate of the bailey as it began to open, grating as it did so. Beyond that, the streets were beginning to fill as people tried to catch a glimpse of the powerful beast.
A servant neared us, unsure.
"Prepare the Map-room please," I asked him. "And gather Magister Fyr, Gwendolyn Feldspar and Matthaeus."
"Right away, Seeker."
The High-Elf and his great mount rode into the courtyard. The beast was massive up closer, his eyes dark and startingly intelligent. His great antlers were smooth like velvet and with every move of the Elk's heavy head, they flashed.
The Elf was beautiful. He stared at us silently, sweeping a hood back over his shoulders. His eyes were luminous and bright, even from where I stood and long raven hair was plaited back neatly. Fine-boned like every Elf, I was surprised to see the bridge of freckles across his sharp nose.
A traveller. A wanderer.
"Friend," Kohen took a step towards him. "You have arrived!"
I stared at the High-Elf, feeling a trickle of recognition.
"I came as you ask," Though his tone was warm, there was a stiffness to the High-Elf's voice. A formality that I had remembered my more aged Mentors using. His eyes were heavy with age, shadowed by countless years. "I could not say no to this."
The Elf turned his attention to me. His Elk friend turned to examine me too.
"And we meet again," A shadow of a smile curled that beautiful mouth, his eyes glimmering with thinly veiled amusement. "I suppose you have forgotten who I am."
Ah. I think I did remember this Elf.
"You gave me that message in the cell. The one who spoke to Greydon and I."
He inclined his head. "A sharp memory, Seeker Birchwood."
Kohen went still. An ear turned to Ewyn's Hall and he sighed gently. "We must break the hatred of the past. We must lay down all secrets now. Let us go inside."
"What of your mount?" I asked.
"Drew will find his way to the stables." The Elf looked back at him fondly. "He always knows where to go."
The battle-Elk Drew looked at us again, dipping his mighty head. Without another word from the Elf, Drew began to head towards the stables.
I wished I could see the stable-hands faces.
I didn't understand. I wasn't entirely sure Mahon nor the Elf did either. As we climbed, the Elf told me, "I go by Taelan now."
As he climbed the stairs in front of us, Kohen's ears went tight against his skull. Something was upsetting him. Worrying him. The Hall was loud, filling with people who were eager to gossip about the events of the past few days. Little had been told, only to reassure visitors that they were safe but I had found their eyes straying to me, whispering things that weren't true. Things of granted power and infallible strength.
I was lucky. I was mortal.
I wished the rumours said that.
The Map-room was already beginning to fill. A servant was setting out a platter of drink and food as Fyr watched, knotting her fingers. Her dark eyes flashed up at our entrance. "Aviana, I felt..."
Then she spotted the Elf. "Oh, hello."
Taelan inclined his head, examining the Map-room clinically. Notes and letters had been filed away and a fresh map had been spread out over the table. Gwen was sitting on a wooden chair, her feet propped up on the table. "Shiny, the vampire is muttering about rats and corners and strange things that I think only old people can understand."
"I am old," Taelan said smoothly, surveying her quickly. "Perhaps I can understand."
"Another Elf?" Gwen queried, kicking her feet down. "I don't think there is room for you in our little group, Oldie."
His answering smile was just a shadow. "I have lived for centuries and that is the first time anyone has called me that."
"Well, new experiences make things exciting." Gwen picked up a loaf of bread and began ripping chunks from it, popping it into her mouth.
Fyr looked mortified.
"Fyr. This is my friend, Taelan. And yes, he is as powerful as he feels. I think he can help Aviana."
"I certainly hope I can," Taelan took the mug that Kohen handed him, sniffing it delicately. He smiled in delight. "Frost-berry tea?"
I plucked up a cup. "It is nearly as good as it was in Dratlan."
"I remember the food in Dratlan," Taelan circled the table, reaching up to unclasp his cloak. He settled it on the back of the chair. I was surprised to see the High-Elf wearing simple clothes; worn leathers and a tattered under-coat. "But I have not been there for many years. I taught classes back when I considered myself to be scholar."
"Everyone is gathered?" Matthaeus strolled in, golden hair tousled. He wore only a short-sleeved tunic, his forearms decorated by dark root ink. He stared down at a roll of parchment. "Gwen, dear. Don't bite my head off when I say that there are some areas of concern in the Keep's defences."
"Don't tempt me then," She crossed her arms. "I would like to see you build and work stone as well as I do."
Matthaeus glanced up at her, his smile bold. "But I have much better things to do with my time."
Taelan sucked in a breath, bracing himself against the table. Matthaeus' attention flicked towards him.
He froze.
"Impossible." The High-Elf breathed.
"Tae..." Matthaeus voice was wrangled. For the first time since I had seen him, he looked stricken.
"You lost the right to call me that." The beautiful male looked wretched now, but his voice was frigid. "That name was buried with the love of my life."
Matthaeus sucked in a breath. He had no words and just stared at the Elf, eyes shining and wet.
"I'm confused," Gwen reached for a brandy, munching on the hard heel of her bread. "But I do appreciate a front-row seat to a theatre performance."
"Gwen!" Fyr berated. "This is not the time."
"No," The High-Elf raised his hand. "No, she is right. This is a performance. A damn comedy."
"Taelan..." Matthaeus stepped towards the table uncertainly.
The High-Elf just stared at him, his luminous eyes dark and unforgiving. The severeness in his expression halted Matthaeus' advance.
There was a strangle of bitterness and pain in his voice. "I buried you, Matthaeus- buried you facing the sun-rise because you always rose to greet it."
Gwen popped a chunk of cheese into her mouth, watching them in fascination.
"And then I buried my old life, my name and my friends to spend the centuries grieving. Hating myself up until this moment for not protecting you." The High-Elf shook his head. "And in all my years of study and experience, how foolish was I? Not to realise there was no body in the grave I visited."
"I think we should take some time," I hedged, uncertainly. "And give these two some time to talk."
Matthaeus' gaze slid to me, still stricken. He swallowed harshly as I touched his arm and left the room with the others on my heel. The door clicked shut behind us.
Gwen, who had taken a platter of food, promptly balanced that on one palm and hauled Kohen close. "Tell me, Cat. Are they from that story you told. From the Red Sunset."
Kohen smiled delightedly. "You remembered."
"Did you know this would happen one day?" I asked. "That your Elf and that human soldier would meet again."
"I made sure of it," Kohen looked at me, his expression frank and honest. "Even a soul who lives far beyond that of human standards should not have to live alone. Even an immortal does not have time to waste."
I wondered what else the Zentin planned in that clever mind of his. What other plans did he have for people's lives and emotions?
"Some used to call me a puppet-master." Kohen offered helpfully. "But they meant that as an insult. I just don't want my friends to live their lives devoid of a love that would make them happy."
"I don't know Matthaeus' and the High-Elf's situation, Kohen, but I am not sure this is a good thing," I said gently. "You could have meant to help them, but this might cause them pain."
"Taelan lived for four centuries in exile, blaming himself for the death of his human love. A love that he would never get again. Matthaeus lived for four centuries, believing that he was not good enough for the soul he loved." Kohen stared at the door thoughtfully. "I knew I could end that. Whatever comes of this, at least they know."
"Are you keeping a secret from me?" I asked. "Something that could hurt?"
"No," Kohen said. "I am keeping nothing hurtful from you."
I pursed my lips. "But you're keeping something from me?"
Kohen blinked at me, matching my expression. "Are you not keeping secrets. Unsaid words?"
"Aviana is keeping secrets?" Mahon teased lightly. "Should that be a surprise?"
"They're not any different than some of your tightly held secrets." Kohen pointed out lightly.
"Ah yes, thank you Kohen." The Captain heaved a sigh, before asking, "You called him here to help Aviana?"
Gwen bit into an entire block of cheese. "You think he's old enough to fix our problems for us. It is hard being the responsible one."
"Because you would be trusted with a high level of responsibility." Mahon said witheringly.
Fyr, sensing where this conversation was about to head, clapped her tiny hands together. "Let's go to the kitchen and get something to nibble on."
"Because Gwen has taken everything the servant laid out?" Mahon pointed out innocently.
Gwen held out her half-chewed cheese block. "If you wanted some, little Captain, all you have to do is ask. But you prefer to salivate and watch longingly, don't you?"
Fyr hooked her arm through mine and hooked Kohen to her other side. "Let's go. If they want to argue like children, let them."
"It's unfair of you to accuse me of being childish." Mahon retorted, following.
Gwen snorted. " You live in a beautiful fantasy land, Captain. Can I visit one day?"
"Incorrigible woman." Mahon growled back at her.
"A big word," Gwen boomed. "I am proud of you. But enough of that, does anyone want to make a bet?"
"On what?" I perked up. "I would like to make a bet!"
"On the vampire and the Elf." Gwen teased. "On how this all plays out."
"You're betting on people's emotions," Mahon's tone was condemning. "Why would I waste my time doing that?"
"It's entertaining." Gwen laughed loudly behind us. "And a quick away for me to make money."
"I'd like to give this a try," I said. "It sounds like fun."
Fyr let out a nervous titter beside me. "It is fun, Aviana."
"Then I'm in."
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Welcome back to Cadelith!
Tell me your thoughts, theories and conspiracies. I love reading them.
Does anyone know how Taelan and Matthaeus might have known each other?
Aviana and Mahon... sneaking around? What has happened to the Captain?
Until next time - Saoimarie.