: Chapter 21
After changing and washing, Thane and Layala entered the dining hall to find Talon and her friend Vyra already seated, giggling. He heard part of their conversation before the door opened. They laughed at Layala’s struggle to get out of the mud pit. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, but he must keep his cool and not overreact even though he wanted to. He felt Layala’s embarrassment like it was his own when everyone stared at her and no one moved to help.
He didn’t know whose side his sister was on. Talon never spoke about whether she knew their father meant to give Layala to Mathekis but he suspected. Of course, in open conversations around the dinner table, they only spoke of Layala as a way to destroy the Void because that’s what good monarchs do for their people, but that’s not what anyone in his family truly wanted. They wanted magic, and they’d get it by any means necessary. Either by destroying the Void, which wasn’t a guarantee to bring magic back to the elves, even if Layala knew how, or somehow help the Black Mage rise once again. It didn’t matter to them. His father bet on the Black Mage. Thane wasn’t sure about his mother and sister.
The irony that Thane was the only one in his family who didn’t care for magic and was born a mage, wasn’t lost on him. Why was he chosen? Why had he been paired with Layala to top it off? Was this a plan of the Maker, or the old gods even—did fate decide this? These questions kept him awake at night for years. He was happy to fight with his swords and do things the old-fashioned way. He rarely even used his magic after he saw the envy in others.
“Brother, why do you look so glum?” Talon moved her arm, waving him to sit. Her drink nearly sloshed over the side as she did. She always had a taste for spirits, but she was particularly fond of Calladira’s wine. “Never mind, don’t answer that. You’re always glum.”
Vyra giggled and then met Thane’s eyes. The girl had pursued him since she was fifteen years old, and now at nineteen, she only tried harder. He made the mistake of kissing her one night after too much wine, and it gave her hope when there was none. Enough to push Layala into the mud, he suspected. But since Layala wouldn’t say and he didn’t see, he wouldn’t punish her for it.
Thane stood a little straighter, and his mouth twitched in irritation. “My sister is so endearing, isn’t she?”
Breaking into a knowing smile, Layala sat and scooted her chair in. She opened her mouth to speak when Talon cut in, “Oh, your mate and I had a rather nice conversation, actually. Maker above, how unromantic of you to force her into your carriage and drag her here. You could have started by asking. Father would be disappointed.”
“Yes, sire, you’ve always been more of the grand gesture type. At least with me.” Vyra batted her eyelashes with a coy smile.
Grand gesture type? When had he ever done anything to try to impress Vyra? He was simply kind to her, and she took it the wrong way, apparently. Thane leaned back into his chair casually, trying to feign like his sister and Vyra didn’t annoy him. Of all people, Talon thought their father would be disappointed in his actions? Tenebris would have burned Briar Hollow to the ground and bound Layala’s hands and feet so she couldn’t run. And once they arrived, he’d have locked her in that room until he was sure she wouldn’t leave. “What can I say? I was eager to get her here. We also had a group of pale ones on our tail.”
Talon swirled her wine and giggled. “Ooooh, pale ones. I’m shaking.”
Vyra snickered and took a sip of her wine. Layala sneered at both of them, annoyed as he was. He was surprised she kept quiet thus far.
Hot anger trickled down his spine. “You’ve never seen what they can do. You’ve never even seen one up close, so laugh all you want, but you’re an ignorant child for doing so.” Tenebris doted on Talon like the spoiled princess she was. She never saw the war. Never saw the rotting corpses of elves she knew, or had the putrid smell invade her senses. Never saw their soldiers fed on by a pale one or watched a friend turn. She didn’t know what the sickening crunch sounded like when a sword cut off a head or broke through bone.
She painted portraits of wildflowers and gossiped with her equally childish friends, and pined after males she had no business entertaining. She tried to lure Fennan into her bed recently, thankfully he had sense enough to turn her down. Drinking excessive amounts of wine was typical, and she snuck off castle grounds to party with commoners often. Their mother didn’t know much of what Talon did. She was too busy gossiping and drinking wine herself. Mother enjoyed making plans to ruin elven lives, especially among her own circle. Spies employed by her found dirty secrets about her friends or their husbands and exploited them.
Thane didn’t have the luxury of being so free as his sister. Sure, he drank until he couldn’t stand a time or two, but he had too much responsibility to be so careless. And the idea of making other people miserable for his own entertainment repulsed him. Not that he had time to consider such nonsense anyway, he was training for war, in a battle, or making sure his people had necessities and were safe.
“Pale ones are certainly nothing to laugh at,” Layala said.
Talon set her glass down and grabbed a garlic roll from the center of the table. “Here you were acting like you didn’t even like my brother, and you’re taking his side.” She tore off a piece and popped it into her mouth.
“I’m on nobody’s side but my own. But you’ve clearly never come face to face with one,” Layala said, picking up her glass of wine and giving his sister a challenging look, one eyebrow raised, a slight tug on the corner of her mouth. “And it shows, Princess.”
Thane wanted to grab her face and kiss her for not backing down to his sister like so many females did. Before he even went to get her, he worried he’d have to constantly protect her from his mother’s wicked tactics and his sister’s lashful tongue. He watched his sister belittle she-elves a thousand times and she’d met her match.
“And you have?” Vyra practically spit.
A cruel smile. “Of course, I have.”
“I wouldn’t brag about that.” Talon’s face went cold. “You’re a low-born elf raised by humans, no less, and it shows. It only proves that I am better than you. I would never need to face a pale one.” Her expression softened and turned into an almost feline smile. “See, males go to war for me; they fight for me, because I am a prize. A true lady. You may have magic, but that’s all they want you for. You’re filthy and tainted. You will never have the qualities a male truly desires, least of all our High King. Vyra should be at my brother’s side, not you.”
“Talon,” Thane snapped. “Apologize and then leave.”
Layala held up a hand, seemingly not affected at all. “No need. But the difference between you and me, Talon, is I can protect myself. I can fight for myself, and I don’t need nor want a male to save or desire me, and that’s how I like it.”
That blow hit Thane like a punch to the gut. Perhaps Mage Vesstan was right about going to find this dragon shifter after all.
His mate and his sister stared each other down, a lone wolf who was used to fighting her own battles and a lioness who ran the pride through viciousness. “And if you want to compare male desires,” Layala said, “well, they all want me, but at least it’s not to pleasure themselves. Who would care for a spoiled, helpless, brat beyond looking for you to warm his bed.”
That did it. Talon shot to her feet and threw her wine glass at Layala’s face with blurred speed. Thane reached out with his magic and halted it mid-air, inches from breaking and cutting up her delicate skin. With remarkable calmness, Layala grabbed hold of the glass and then took a sip from it.
Talon sneered at both of them and left the room, slamming the door hard enough to shake the wall. Vyra kept her head bowed.
“You’re excused, Vyra,” Thane said.
She quickly got up and chased after Talon. Thane let out a long breath and his tight muscles relaxed. He didn’t even know who he should apologize to at this point. Both of them had made some deeply cutting remarks, even if Talon had started it. As a much-needed distraction, one of the servants entered and quietly refilled their glasses.
“How did you do that? Stop that glass,” Layala asked, watching him carefully.
“With magic.”
She deadpanned. “I know, but how?”
How could he explain it more than she could her power? “It’s how my magic works. I can manipulate matter. So, for example, I can stop things in motion by manipulating the air around it. I can make water boil or freeze or move. I can bend fire at will, but I can’t create it from nothing. I can bend and move trees… Mage Vesstan thinks I’d be able to make plants and trees grow if I took the time to learn.”
“Lucky.” Layala took her first bite of the chopped tomato on toasted bread appetizer. “So, when do we leave for the Sederac Mountains?” Layala asked, completely unfazed by the argument with Talon. Didn’t she want to talk about what his sister said? He wanted to talk about some of the things Layala said, like if she meant she didn’t want any male to desire her or if it was simply that she hated him.
He meant to speak to her about finding the sorceress, but he simply didn’t have time with preparations for the battle that would come on the Summer Solstice and the celebration itself. His mother and other advisers handled all the actual planning of it, but he made sure the security was tight. Elves from within the city were only allowed in with an invitation and his guard was always doubled on this day. He made sure to triple it this time with Layala present.
He tapped his fingers against the hardwood table. “I don’t think it’s worth the risk.” She opened her mouth to argue, but he said, “Hear me out. Even if we were able to find this dragon sorceress, how would we be able to trust her information, if she didn’t try to eat us first? She could do something that would make the situation worse. How could we trust that what she told us would actually break the spell and not, say, accelerate our becoming pale ones? She may use you right then and there to resurrect her master.”
“If we bribe her properly, I’m sure we can get her on our side. Everyone has a price.”
Not everyone. Some people were loyal no matter what. Even if she could be persuaded, she would certainly want something in return, but they wouldn’t know what that was until they found her. And bringing Layala to this sorceress was practically handing her to the Black Mage and his followers over on a platter. “No. I won’t trust anyone who has worked with the Black Mage, especially not when it comes to you. I don’t think you understand what you are to the enemy.”
She sucked her bottom lip between her teeth. “I didn’t think you would go anyway.”
He narrowed his eyes. She was giving up way too easily. “That’s it? No ‘you’re a bastard’ or anything?”
Silence.
“You’ll have to look for another way.”
She glared. “You don’t get to dictate my life.”
“I do when it comes to this.” He didn’t mean to snarl, but he was growing restless with her self-indulgence. Everything she did was for her own selfish reasons, because she didn’t want to be with him. He had enough on his damn plate as it was. “If they get their hands on you it could be the end of us all. I know you don’t like it—like me, you’ve made that painstakingly clear, but I will not allow the enemy to use you. Period. You can hate me all the more for it, although I doubt you could loathe me more than you already do.” He pushed up from the table and started for the door, his normally quiet feet slamming hard with each step.
The legs of her chair scraped against the floor with a groan. “You expect me to do nothing? To accept this when it’s not what you or I have chosen?”
He whirled around. “I don’t expect anything of you. I know something of duty and honor, but you? You should do what you do best and hide, doing nothing for your own people like you’ve done your entire life. Honestly, you think my sister is a selfish brat? Try looking in the mirror. You would watch all of Palenor burn so you can be free of me. You’d risk bringing back the Black Mage and becoming his slave for the chance to go back to your hovel with the humans, while I have sacrificed my life to keep you safe. You have no idea the unforgivable things I have done to make certain they never have you. So go ahead and throw away our safety on some off chance this sorceress will help you rather than condemn all of us.”
Real hurt trickled into him through their bond. That lovely face of hers showed something other than anger or distaste for once. Tears filled the rim of her eyes and a single droplet spilled down her cheek. He turned and threw the door open slamming it hard behind him.