Page 20 of Revenge of the Elf Lord

We must talk briefly. The Egyptian god is very good at his job and will eventually realize something is off—like a buzzing in his ears. Whether or not he hears our conversation is unknown to me.

How did I become entangled in all of this? I just want to return home to my parents, know Soliana is safe, and enjoy my books.

Life doesn’t always give us what we want, I’m afraid. Look at poor Castien. He wants to be loved and respected for who he is, not what he is. He has suffered long because of this, but he perseveres, and his struggle will make him stronger for it. My dear, you have an inner strength and untold power at your fingertips. All you must do is let it out without it controlling you.

Why do you think I keep a tight rein on whatever these powers are?Shalendra inhaled, her anxiety increasing.As a child, I discovered the hard way that powers aren’t always good. I found an injured baby rabbit near my home and decided to heal it. I had no idea what I was doing, and in my simple childish thinking, I just needed to will away the injury. Instead of healing it, though, I willed away the legs.

I will never forget the horror of what I did, nor of my father when he put the tiny rabbit out of its misery. I never did tell him I was the one who hurt the poor thing.

Oh my,Ashia whispered in her mind,that would be a difficult lesson to learn as a child. But the most crucial point to the story, Shalendra, is that you were just that…a child. You had never been trained to handle your abilities. As with any tool, when given a powerful gift, it is up to that being to learn how to use it correctly. Magic is another tool that can be used for better or worse. That is the lesson we all must learn.

Shalendra exhaled.I understand this…I’m just afraid to let whatever is inside of me out again. I would never forgive myself if I hurt someone I care about or an innocent bystander.

Whether you realize it or not, you have an ally and possibly a teacher in the elf. Cyran, too, has untold healing magic. From how his power screams at me, he doesn’t use it often, either. Look past your differences because I believe the two of you can help each other out.

A subtle push pressed against Shalendra’s mind, but she kept her gaze on Cyran, who was still discussing their next move with Arawn. From the corner of her vision, Osiris’s eyes narrowed. He glanced at Castien, then moved to her.

She focused on Cyran’s emotions as they flashed across his handsome face and put herself in his shoes. He had taken time from his mission to find and then rescue her, and she was more than grateful for that. Instead of thanking him, she had not been very nice, which wasn’t like her.

Swallowing her pride or whatever had caused her to react to him like she had, she exhaled. “Excuse me.” She might as well have been talking in her head. The elf and god continued to speak over one another as their argument grew.

She cleared her throat and stepped between them, placing one hand on each male's chest. “Excuse me! Can the two of you please stop bickering like children long enough to listen to someone else? Maybe Osiris, Castien, or I have a more brilliant idea?”

The Celtic god’s gray eyes stared into hers, and he gave her a slight nod before backing away until he stood next to Osiris. She turned and met Cyran’s blue-gray gaze, which was even darker than it had been a few minutes earlier. Her body leaned forward as if she were falling into their mesmerizing depths. His chest muscles bunched against her palm, and she reluctantly pulled her hand away.

“Cyran, I would like to apologize for how I spoke to you in the prison. You rescued me, and instead of thanking you, I bit your head off. For that, I am sorry. Thank you for taking the time to find and free me from that wretched place.”

His brows rose in surprise, and the hint of a smile appeared as he bent at the waist in a quick bow. “You are welcome, my lady.” Leaning closer, he whispered in her ear, “I wonder what that small courtesy cost you?”

Swallowing her retort, his smile widened as if he somehow knew she fought her response to him. She turned her head just enough to meet his heavy-lidded gaze. “That is something you will never find out…my lord.” She stepped away. “Now, the two of you play nice while weallfigure out our next move.”

“I will do you one better than that,” Arawn said. “I must return to Otherworld and check on my remaining souls. Unlike your mother’s and Osiris’s realms, mine still had several areas that had not been breached yet.” He glanced at the Egyptian god of death. “Let us hope they remain occupied, or our dilemma just increased three-fold. The last thing we need is the Fomorians freed.”

Osiris nodded. “True. Battling them would be like fighting my brother, Set, on steroids or the evil ones in Tartarus. Speaking of Greek Hell, have you heard anything from Hades?”

“No,” Arawn answered. “But he had four more layers to check, which will take some time. The size and depth of the Greek Underworld put ours to shame.”

“True. Even though Egypt has been around much longer than Greece, the Greeks had more people. The way of the world was kinder to my people and easier to live in.”

“Same for the Celts, but that is neither here nor there. We must figure out who is behind this before all the souls disappear.”

“I don’t understand.” Confused, Shalendra frowned at the two gods. “Why would anyone want to steal spirits?”

“The current school of thought is someone is using them to build an army.” Cyran shrugged. “But to what end, we have no idea. While an army of dead is feasible, the outcome will not be what whoever is in charge expects.”

“Why?” Castien's face scrunched in confusion. “Wouldn’t they be undefeatable? I mean…well, they’re dead. They can’t die again—or can they?”

“They can,” both gods answered.

“Depending on the level where they are contained determines their final outcome,” Osiris added. “The best way to explain is to use Hades’ underworld. My realm, Duat, is a bit different. We have twelve gates the dead must pass through, yet we also have a variety of places for the dead to live.”

He clasped his hands behind his back like a college professor. “The Greek Underworld has many realms on different levels. The Elysian Fields are where those with good souls and lived contented lives can stay, or they can choose to be reborn and live again in a new body. Tartarus also contains deeper places, many unnamed, and is where the evilest of beings are sent. It is in those dark and unbidden areas Hades places the worst beings—those who commit such unspeakable crimes they can never again walk in the light and be tortured for eternity.”

His gaze hardened as he met Arawn’s. “My belief is that whoever is draining the death realms is collecting all spirits—holding those who refuse his bidding or placing them in servitude—while the evil ones are promised free rein to do as they wish as his eternal soldiers.”

“That’s horrific,” Shalendra whispered. “And terrifying.” Wide-eyed, she turned to Cyran. “I realize you did not sign up for this and want to return to your own life, but will you please consider staying and helping us? If my parents and Ailuin and Lamruil believed you to be honorable and trusted you to find me, then I must also believe you to be honorable. Will you stay and help us or walk away when needed most?”

Her words were like a punch in Cyran’s gut. Had he become that shallow? He had always prided himself on doing what was right and caring for those in need. Staring into her aqua eyes, he felt as if he were floating on the water… No, the Mediterranean Sea on Midgard.

---