Page 27 of Revenge of the Elf Lord

Castien shook his head. “I’m not sure. One minute, I was feeling fine—as well as I could after being drained by draugar. Now, my stomach is queasy, and I have no energy. Like it was siphoned out of my body in a single instant.” Cyran and Shalendra glared at the draugar.

Banayl and Daqar both shook their heads. “It wasn’t us. The room would have been bathed in blue light if we had drained him again.”

“While I wouldn’t have thought twice about siphoning the dwarf,” Ukris muttered. “For the sake of the…Shalendra’s preference in keeping him alive, I restrained.”

Shalendra’s lips twitched. “Thank you…I think.” Looking back at Castien, her humor disappeared. She laid the back of her hand against his forehead. “You aren’t feverish—you just don’t look well. Do you think you can travel?” Her gaze narrowed. “Something tells me this place is no longer safe.”

Castien nodded. “I agree, but I’m all right. My strength is already returning. They probably gave me some draugar virus no one can cure.”

Banayl’s expression soured as he turned to Cyran. “I don’t know if I should be insulted or not.”

“Err on the side of caution,” Cyran warned. “The dwarf thinks he’s amusing.” He then leaned close to Castien. “If I were you, I would sensor the barbs. Draugar aren’t known for their sense of humor.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Banayl added. “With the werewolves, Daqar is learning how to joke more. Ukris, on the other hand, is clueless when it comes to mirth.”

Ukris scowled. “Watch yourself, Banayl. I may learn, if only to drive you crazy.”

Shalendra’s tinkling laughter filled the small room. “No one says mirth anymore. You are all hopeless and humorous.” She sent a mischievous glare at Ukris. “Even you, whether or not you admit to such a thing. Now, where were you supposed to meet the others?”

“Before we move on,” Cyran interrupted. “I would like to do a little reconnaissance to see what I can find out. Something doesn’t seem quite right to me—as if we are being drawn away.”

His expression turned thoughtful. “We’ve traveled back to the war—sometime during the late thirties or forties, but that’s only an assumption on my part. If my timeline is correct, Ailuin and Lamruil should be stationed nearby. I want to talk to them and get the lay of the land. If anyone knows where your group is, it will be those two. They may also know something about Shalendra’s missing aunt and uncle…something they’ve forgotten in the future.”

Daqar nodded. “That is an excellent idea. While the push to move on has intensified, I do not trust it. It does not seem real somehow.”

Shalendra pondered Daqar’s statement, wondering if a spell could make them feel that way. Turning to ask Cyran, she noticed his eyes had returned to their typical blue-green hue, reminding her of the Mediterranean.

At that moment, she put two and two together. His eye color lightened or darkened with his mood. She thought back to when she noticed the darker shade and realized they turned blue-gray when he was worried and darkened more when he was angry. They were blue-green when he was calm and reflective. He was a puzzle—a very handsome one, though.

She refocused on the ongoing conversation. “Do you think they can help? What if your previous self is already there? You would destroy the current timeline.”

Cyran raised one brow. “I am not an idiot and am quite proficient at time travel. I realize I must stay out of sight until my other self leaves.”

She shrugged. “Sorry. You don’t open up or talk much, so how was I supposed to know you time traveled a lot?” She tilted her head to one side, her long black braid sliding off her shoulder. His gaze slid downward, and for some strange reason, his interest pleased her. “Why are you so guarded?”

“I learned at a very young age to keep things to myself if I didn’t want them used against me.”

She nodded. “That, I understand, but not in quite the same way. When I was very young, my dad and I still lived in Niflheimr. I remember times when my parents fought. My mother asked me leading questions, but I was just too young to understand and would tell her the truth. My words would always come back to haunt me. Looking back as an adult, I realize my mother had no idea how to be a wife or mother and should never have asked me to begin with. It’s sad.”

“That sounds a lot like my stepfather. On her deathbed, my mother told me he was my stepfather, and my birth father had no idea I existed. For whatever reason, he couldn’t be the father I needed. For a young elf, I took that as he was married and refused my mother. She was too good for him anyway.”

Like so many times in the past, he shoved down the painful rejection that never seemed to go away and forced back his shoulders. “I must leave. The twins won’t stay in one place for long.”

She narrowed her gaze. “Fine, but I’m going with you—in case you get into trouble.”

He couldn't decide whether to be insulted or burst out laughing. “I don’t need a babysitter.”

“That remains to be seen,” she muttered. Cyran ignored a low snicker coming from one of the draugar.

“We all should go,” Daqar added. “The werewolves and our two leaders will not return here past the appointed meeting time. We must move on. This way, Shalendra and the dwarf will have protection while you talk to the elf kings.”

Cyran couldn’t argue with the draugr’s logic. It was sound. Leaving Shalendra unprotected was not something he could do, which surprised him. Several days ago, he would not have given a second thought to leaving her. He exhaled the mounting frustration.

He needed to clear his head, and the only way to do that was to be alone. Taking her along would only further muddle his thinking, which he didn’t like. He would need his total concentration to get everyone through this unraveling puzzle.

From the determined expression on her face, he realized arguing with her would not make any difference. She would try to follow him without apparating, resulting in her capture by the German army. If he took everyone, he reasoned, he would be avoiding a future mishap.

“Fine. We will have to travel in two groups.” Glancing at the draugar, he met Daqar’s gaze and forced back his growing exhaustion. “I can apparate the three of you first. A small cave behind the twin’s makeshift headquarters is used for storing supplies and will be the perfect place for you to hide. Once we talk to Ailuin and Lamruil, you can stay in the cave while I return here.”

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