Page 30 of Revenge of the Elf Lord

“What?” Shalendra leaned forward, her gaze riveted on the varying-sized red dots forming from under the shirt and spreading up to the base of his neck.

Castien groaned, the sound emanating from deep inside his chest. “I hurt so much. I don’t think there’s anywhere on my body that doesn’t ache, and my insides are burning—like they're cooking.” His eyes cracked open, meeting hers. “Do I still have my skin, or has the fire burned it away.”

Shalendra made a gurgling sound deep in her throat but failed as her laughter broke free. “Dramatic much? You still have your beautiful, rich, light-brown skin, my friend, although you don’t look quite as handsome with red spots everywhere.”

He tried to laugh, which ended in a harsh coughing spell. Cyran reached across his body to turn away her head, but not before she caught sight of the bloody sputum in the corners of his mouth. Her gaze jerked up to meet Cyran’s. “What’s happening to him, Cyran?”

He shook his head, a slight frown pulling at his light brown brows. “I wish I knew. The symptoms remind me of several diseases seen on Midgard. Elves…and dwarves don’t catch human sicknesses. I can’t sense any magic, but my gut tells me it’s there—I just haven’t delved deep enough yet.”

He reached for his bag, which had twisted around, and jerked it forward to rest on his hip. Reaching inside, he pulled out a light blanket, which he spread over the dwarf, who bunched it up in his fists and tucked it under his neck.

“Reminds me of my cloak. I miss my cloak,” Castien whispered.

Standing, Cyran held out his hand. She stared at it a moment, then laid her smaller hand against his warm palm, letting him pull her to a stand beside him. The heat from his body pressed against hers, seeping through her chilled skin. Inhaling his wonderful scent one last time, she forced herself to push away, taking back her hand and clasping her fingers together in front of her.

Not wanting Castien to worry more than he already was, she walked to the far corner and gave Cyran an expectant stare. He glanced down at Castien. Once more, she admired his perfect profile. He was more than handsome, but his concern for a stranger drew her to him more than anything else. He was just as beautiful on the inside as he was outside.

Watching his purposeful stride, she admired his regal stature, yet instead of remaining aloof, she sensed a ready laugh lingering on his lips. Her gaze touched on the tiny laugh lines etched into the outside corners of his eyes.

She tilted her head. “Every once in a while, you remind me of Lamruil and Ailuin. Just a hint here and there, but…”

This time, he did smile, lighting up his entire face. Her breath caught in her chest, filling her with wonderment. “Well, I did grow up with them. When my mother treated the local women, I spent my days and nights in the castle, pretending it was home. She was the only one able to cure the female ailments. I’m afraid my stepfather’s focus was on darker spells and stranger maladies of the Nine Worlds. When he wasn’t hibernating in his lab, he was elsewhere. My mother never figured out where he disappeared to.”

“I’m sorry, Cyran. I can’t imagine not having the love of both parents. For me, my father was always there, no matter what. Even when I thought he was my brother, I never doubted his love for me, and while my mother wasn’t with us, I sensed her love for me as well.”

He slid a lock of hair behind one ear, and she held her breath. “Of course, your mother loved you. What is the human saying, if you love something or someone—set it free? Your mother let you go and prayed one day you would be reunited.”

He smiled, his thumb caressing her cheek as he pulled away his hand. “Fenrir told me this himself. As her brother, he guarded her since Émilien took you from Niflheimr. She mourned your absence and threw herself into her work, which is why what’s happening to the death realms now is so problematic. Her world was strong in faith and happiness, as were the Egyptian Everafter and Celtic Otherworld.”

Shalendra frowned. “What about Hades and his Greek Underworld?”

“While each death realm has its opposition within and the worst of the worst buried deep inside their darkest layers, the Greeks are combative. Remember, Sparta was part of the ancient Greek world and were holy terrors on the battlefield.”

“True.” Her gaze touched on Castien. “What can we do for him?”

Cyran glanced over his shoulder and let her see the worry deep in the blue-gray depths. “I’m not sure. I need to go back to Haman’s lab. There are books filled with information I haven’t yet read. Maybe I can find a link to whatever this is and what seems to be plaguing both the Elven and Dwarven villages.”

“Do you think it’s the same disease?”

“Again, I can’t be certain, but the symptoms all seem to progress similarly, but Castien’s are different. His symptoms took him down so fast... Maybe it was the mode of transmission or a mutation?” He shrugged. “At this point, I just don’t have enough information.”

“Go then. Return to the lab and find the answers you need. I will stay here and help Castien as much as I can?—”

“No!” He hissed, his voice deep and filled with power. “I cannot let you take that chance. I will have Banayl come back here and watch over him.”

Her eyebrows rose. “Excuse me? Castien is my friend, and I am responsible for dragging him into this.Iwill stay.”

“Forgive me, princess, but exposing you to something I may not be able to cure is a sure-fire way to get me cast into the bowels of your mother’s precious realm, and I am not ready to spend the rest of eternity being tortured for pissing off mommy dearest.”

As much as she wanted to argue, he was right. Her mother would torture him for eternity if anything happened to her. It did not feel right, though, abandoning Castien like this.

You are not abandoning him, young one.Ashia whispered.I am with him and will keep him safe and alive until you both return. The draugr is already dead, so whatever this is cannot spread to him. Remember what Freyja told you about your powers? Youmustlook deep into your soul and find a way to let go of past grief.

Castien’s life and the lives of so many others rest on your shoulders and Cyran’s. I sense the power within him. Combined with your abilities, the two of you will be a force we have not seen in the Nine Worlds since the creation days. Believe in yourself, Shalendra. Believe…

She swallowed the fear Ashia’s words created and exhaled. She did not want Cyran to learn about the bloodstone or think she was nuts.I will, Ashia. That is my vow to you. By all the power I have in me, Castien will survive this and thrive, and I will not let anyone else die if I can help it.

A sense of peace stole through her, calming her inner turmoil and terror. A few hours ago, she had worried about killing Castien with her powers, but she hadn't. Shewouldsucceed in helping Cyran find a cure and, if needed, using all her powers to save him.

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