Page 26 of The Elven Healer's Apprentice

“I can’t help it. Spells flare and flash, especially yours. If I am not expecting it, it startles me.”

Without slowing in his task, he glanced at me. “I forget you can see magic.”

“When you are manipulating a spell,” I clarified. “What does death have to do with magic?”

“Elves—most other magical creatures—die if their magic completely depletes. It is a form of starvation.”

“But I thought you also generated magic.”

“We do, but it takes time. If deprived of all their natural magic to the point they have no more, their body cannot renew fast enough to sustain them.” His jaw tightened. “Something Casimir should know, considering he has experienced it to a greater extent than most.” Finished with emptying the supplybag, he folded it and added it to the spell, flicking the spell closed with a complicated gesture and another flare of magic.

I flinched despite myself. “What happened to him?”

“A magus captured him and repeatedly drained his magic. If Veta hadn’t come along, Casimir would’ve died.” A rueful twist of Merlon’s mouth hinted at a greater story, but before I asked for more details, Merlon straightened. “Come,” he instructed, slinging the one bag over his shoulder as though it weighed nothing. “We need to walk if we are to reach our destination by nightfall.”

∞∞∞

Merlon

“Why are you so determined to keep everyone at a distance?” Adela asked sometime later.

I almost halted in the middle of the road. Since we were still on Casimir’s land, the graded dirt surface showed signs of being well maintained with drainage ditches along the edges. “What makes you think I do?”

Adela’s heavy mane of chestnut hair shone with golden highlights in the summer sunlight. Strands had escaped the thick braid she had coiled about her head that morning. They fell about her rounded ears and delicate face in enchanting curls, and one particularly long one had coiled around her neck and rested on her collarbone. My fingers itched to touch it.

“Your actions.” Her dark eyes rolled in irritation before she sped up to match my pace.

I ignored her observation and focused more on mine. “Am I walking too quickly?” I asked, slowing my pace because her slightly labored breathing and the sheen on her face answered my question before I asked it.

“Your legs are longer than mine.” She took a deep breath. “And you are much more experienced in walking long distances. I haven’t left the compound in—” She took another breath while pressing a palm to her middle. “—over a year.”

Reaching across, I caught the wrist of the hand at her side. The heady sense of rightness flooded me, along with a sudden intensifying of my senses. The rich loamy scent of the dirt and the dry sensation of the breeze on my skin harmonized well with the scents of life and growth in the surrounding plants. An animal in the brush beside the road darted away. Of more importance, though, was the rapid flutter beneath my fingertips. It confirmed my suspicions. She needed rest.

I tugged her to a gentle halt. Without releasing her wrist, I focused intensely on her heart rate.

“What is wrong?” she protested.

I lifted my head to meet her gaze and froze. Her eyes were jade, the richest, deepest jade I had ever encountered. Framed beneath the dark gold of her lashes, they reminded me of precious gems.

“Merlon?” Her voice pulled me from my reverie. Dropping her wrist, I took a step back. Suddenly, colors were dimmer, smells were weaker, and a cold blanket of isolation fell over me.

“Talk to me.” Adela stepped close.

Her warmth radiated through me as the smell of pear-scented soap tantalized my nose. I closed my eyes, trying to resist the sudden urge to touch her again.

“Merlon.” She touched my cheek.

Before I could stop myself, I leaned into her hand, savoring the sensation of her skin as my senses heightened once more.Breathing deeply, I opened my eyes. Gazing down into her upturned face, I realized two things. Somehow, Adela was my other half, my magically compatible match. Not that I had ever bought into the shadow elf myths about fated mates. I always thought such a thing was more a matter of design than fate. However, it explained these strange sensations. And second, I was failing horribly at being her friend, let alone courting her.

“You aren’t hot to the touch.” Adela withdrew her hand. Concern puckered her brow as she peered up into my eyes. “Your eyes aren’t glassy, so no sign of fever. Any dizziness? Headache? Casimir said you would be tired and grumpy, but he didn’t mention acting strangely.”

“I am sorry.”

She stared at me for a moment. “Now I know you are ill. You rarely apologize.”

“Nonsense. I apologize when I am in the wrong.”

Adela’s eyebrows rose, and she crossed her arms over her chest and tilted her head. “Fine. I will take the bait. What exactly are you apologizing for?”

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