Page 26 of Revenge of the Elf Lord

She refocused on Castien. The only way to save Castien from such a cruel fate was to blend her magic with Ashia’s. She refused to let her friend become a shade and would do anything, including tapping into the powers she had kept hidden.

Something stirred deep in her mind. Reaching out with only one thought, she focused on Castien. She allowed the barrier she had erected as a child to crack open, her mind searching through them like an index system until she found the two powers she needed. She closed her eyes and let go of her deep-seated fear, permitting their release.

Forcing her eyes open once more, her gaze searched out Cyran’s. His teal eyes held hers like a lifeline, and her fear receded. She took in the draugar’s magic with a single deep inhalation, pulling them into her body and combining them with her own.

She created an arc between her and the blue flames of the draugar’s swords. Instead of enveloping her as it had the dwarf, the magic encircled her like a cocoon, its presence like a gentle tickle over her skin.

It wasn’t enough to save him, but she hesitated. The power she had kept under tight control since childhood was more lethal, and she was terrified she could not control it. It wasn’t her most powerful magic—that power would forever remain locked inside of her.

To save her friend, though, she had to try with the two remaining powers. The stirring in her mind increased, and Ashia whispered to her, calming her more.

Let go and save him. Your magic answers only to you. It is a part of you and recognizes your love for Castien. Trust in yourself, Shalendra. Trust in yourself…Ashia’s voice faded as if those few words took all her strength.

Thinking back to how she had tried to heal the rabbit decades ago, she remembered holding the poor animal, its soft white fur matted with blood and tufts of grass. In the memory, she reached out and cradled the bunny’s tiny head with one hand, her thumb caressing its cheek with a gentle back-and-forth motion.

She held her other hand just above the jagged laceration across its side, and the bright red blood faded to a light pink and then disappeared. The rough edges of the cut pulled closer, the skin knitting together and the fur growing back as white and pristine as it had been before the injury.

Her joy soared when the rabbit’s eyes opened and stared into hers, and she realized in her child’s mind that her only thought had been to help—to heal her so she could play with her friends. That single thought had directed her magic, and she accidentally took the poor bunny’s legs in her innocence and non-training.

She forced herself to let go of her long-held trepidation and reopened the barrier holding back her powers. She focused on Castien, her only thought was to make him whole and healthy again.

She focused her control on only that thought. The moment it materialized in her mind, the combined magic turned from an ice blue to a rich shade of violet. The flames grew as her magic flowed through her.

You are doing it, Shalendra!Ashia’s excited and much stronger voice returned.Don’t stop, he is so close…

Castien’s body jerked. His mouth opened, and then his head flew back. He let out a low groan, which changed into a louder, keening cry that filled the room and made her body’s hair stand up. Pulling back her magic, she released it from the draugar’s flame and dissipated it.

Giving herself a mental check, she realized she was unchanged. Using her powers had not been the horror she had built up to be in her mind. She was unsure how she felt about it, but if it saved Castien, she no longer cared and was okay with using her magic.

Of course, she kept her mother’s warning close to her heart. Too much power is never a good thing, and sometimes, doing something for the right reason can result in tragedy. Her most crucial ability, raising someone from the dead, was still a secret. Safe and controlled—never to be used. If those who were trying to destroy the Nine Worlds found that out…

She shivered. She would be their number one target. A chilliness settled on her skin like a glove, as if just by thinking about her hidden magic, the unknown evil already knew.

Castien's body fell forward, sliding toward the floor. Cyran leaped forward and caught him before hitting the ground. Adjusting the tall dwarf’s weight, he carried him to the other side of the room and sat him down, propping his back against the wall. He stood, and with a wave of one hand, an over-large, cushioned chair appeared underneath Castien.

Shalendra rushed forward, giving Cyran’s muscled arm a quick squeeze as she knelt beside the chair, feeling for the pulse at his neck. The beat was strong and steady. Breathing a sigh of relief, she stood and moved in front of the two draugar. “Is there something you need to do to make sure he has been returned as he was?”

“No, my lady,” Banayl said with a slight shake of his head, his hair back to the original light brown shade. Daqar’s long strawberry-blond hair was also normal once more. She paused, wondering if the change had been much faster this time or if she just hadn’t paid close enough attention. Something to think about…

Banayl shook his head. “The young dwarf is flesh and bone and was able to cry. If he were a shade, his body would be incorporeal without the ability to communicate. You have a magic I have never seen or heard of. True power, and if others realized, you would be hunted. Keep it safe. Keep it hidden.”

Daqar nodded. “He is right, Shalendra. I would ask, though, if we should once more need to correct a wrong—such as the one that almost happened—may we call on you to share your magic once more?”

Shalendra smiled. “I would be honored to help any of you.”

“If you don't mind, I have a question,” Cyran said. “When I was in Svartálfheimr, I was told a group of creatures were seen near one of the villages. At that time, I assumed they were talking about werewolves, but another dwarf reported a larger group of about ten creatures later heading toward the castle. Do you know anything about this?”

“We were in dwarf country, but that was weeks ago. We were scouting the northern region for Ailuin, but found demon trace, so we headed south and ran across a large company of rogue werewolves. Alva should have reported to the co-regents by now.”

“When will the werewolves and your leader return?” Cyran said, stepping up behind her.

“They should have already been here,” Ukris’s gruff voice answered, startling her. Immobile, he had been so quiet that she almost forgot he was in the room with them.

Ukris stepped forward and stopped beside Banayl. “Our leader, Himra, and another draugr named Dannoth went with three werewolves. Under Émilien’s training, we have learned that together, we are formidable. I am worried, though. Himra is the strongest of us all and without him…”

“If they are able, the cursed wolves won’t let anything happen to either of our friends.” Banayl glanced at Daqar. I have a terrible feeling… Should we continue to wait here or head to the assigned meeting place? It isn’t like our brethren to be late like this.”

Castien groaned, his hands cradling his head as he slumped forward. Cyran grunted as he once more supported his weight. “You weigh more than you look, dwarf.” He eased him back on the chaise and squatted next to him with a frown. “Why is your skin turning light green? What’s wrong?”

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