“If the Nazis did it, then your father was correct. There were only a few good things that came from the Germans. Their highway system, cement fortifications, and engineering marvels, including those contrived in the United States—the Manhattan Project, I believe it was called.”
“The atomic bomb?”
Cyran nodded. “Sadly, we will never know what could have happened had President Truman not used them against Japan. Perhaps the fighting might have ended simultaneously if he had not made that call. With the Russians on Japan’s doorstep in Manchuria and then declaring war against Japan on August 8, 1945, the Japanese did not have the soldiers nor the munitions to fight both sides and would have surrendered. The next day, Truman dropped the first bomb on Hiroshima.”
“I remember,” Shalendra said, her tone soft and each word wrapped in sadness. “My father and I went to Japan that day and helped. The radiation burns were horrendous. So many died those first few months, but it was the following decades we worried about.”
Her gaze narrowed. “Why are you bringing that up, though? What are you thinking, Cyran?”
He shrugged, not wanting to make her opinion of him any worse by telling her he believed his stepfather was responsible for most of the murders in the years leading up to and during the war, apart from those in battle.
“While I’m not certain, to me, some of the symptoms I saw in the Dwarven villages, as well as what Castien exhibited, are reminiscent of radiation poisoning. However, I can’t rule out Ebola or the Black Death either. The diseases create many of the same symptoms in humans. Dwarves, though, shouldn’t have the same reactions, which is why I doubt that theory. We’re missing something, I’m afraid.”
Her gaze moved to the castle as the melodic song of a bird filled the air. “There is only one way to figure, at least, some of this out. We must get in there without getting caught. Did you bring your invisibility cloak?”
He frowned. “My what? I don’t need a cloak to walk unseen when I wish it. You shouldn’t need one either.”
She chuckled and wrapped her arms over her chest, her hands sliding up and down her arms as the morning chill settled around them. “Sorry, I forgot you haven’t spent much time on Midgard. Humans have created amazing movies about magic. My favorite is about a young boy who goes off to magic school and is given an invisibility cloak for Christmas.”
His frown turned into a scowl. “We don’t have time to stand here discussing movies—and I know which one you are talking about. My favorite movie has elves in it.”
“Legolas?”
His lips twitched as he tried not to smile, liking their lighthearted bantering. It reminded him of his relationship with Ailuin before things got complicated. “And his father, Thranduil.”
His gaze followed a nondescript gray bus as it passed them, pulling alongside the East wing and disappearing inside what looked like a dormered shed. “I sometimes wonder if Tolkien saw one or both twins around the turn of the century. Their likeness to the elves of Middle Earth is uncanny, don’t you think?”
With a glance at her, he could not help but stare. She was stunning in the early morning light, with the sun’s golden rays peaking over the horizon and illuminating her face.
She smiled. “I do.” Her gaze followed another bus as it pulled up to the castle, waiting behind the previous bus to unload its passengers. The procession seemed ominous, and a darkness steadily grew inside him. A subtle thread of dark magic filled the air, stirring the hairs on his arms as it wound around them.
“I have a horrible feeling about this,” she whispered. “Something isn’t right here. Can you feel it?” She met his gaze, worry making her aqua eyes darken.
Around them, people arrived for their daily jobs, parking their cars in the nearby lot. No one, however, seemed to notice them as they stood in the middle of the sidewalk. They passed them by as if they were nothing more than a hologram.
“And why can’t we be seen?” she asked, her gaze darting to the woman who brushed by her, the woman’s purse hitting her arm. The woman never stopped or seemed to notice she had run into her. “Is this what you mentioned earlier about not being seen?”
“It is. I can teach you if you’d like.”
“I would love to know how to do this. It would have made sneaking after my father in the Shadow Lands much easier. I was constantly afraid he would discover my presence but always returned.”
I take it he did not?” Her impish grin made him want to laugh with her. “I will teach you once our mission is finished. Regarding your question about this place feeling off, I sense the same thing. Someone inside is using dark magic. You do not need to follow and can remain here, unseen if you’d like. I will search the castle for whoever is hiding here and won't have time to wait for you. I fear I already know who it is and would rather keep you out of it. If he should discover your presence, he would use it to his advantage against me.”
She planted her fists on her slender hips. “I can take care of myself. According to Freyja and my parents, my magic is quite powerful. After all, Iamthe daughter of the Queen of Niflheimr and the Guardian of the Shadow Lands.”
With one look at the determination written on her face, he knew it would be useless to argue, and time was of the essence. If Haman was the madman behind this carnage, he needed to be stopped, and the longer they stood this close to the castle, the risk of discovery grew, yet for some odd reason, he could not force himself to take the first step.
“You hesitate, Cyran. Why?”
Shalendra’s gaze was like a heavy stone. He turned and fell into her beautiful aqua eyes as they bore into his. Surprisingly, the oppressive tension building around his heart eased. The more time she held him, a lightness returned, and for the first time in many years, he was not aware of the burden he carried. The sins of his stepfather were no longer his own.
A slow grin touched his face, and he reached out a hand to cup her cheek, which was warm against his palm. “Thank you.” Her shapely eyebrows popped up, a hint of surprise in her eyes, yet she stayed silent. “I have been so ashamed of my stepfather and all his misdeeds for so long, I forgot they weren't mine to bear.”
“What others do—their decisions and actions—rest solely on them, Cyran. Whatever it is Haman did, you should not be carrying the guilt. That is for him alone to answer for.”
Reluctantly, he pulled away his hand and dropped it back to his side. He liked the feel of her soft skin too much. It was enough to distract him from the job he had to do. He could not fail again. Haman must be stopped. “You might not think that if you were made aware of his sins.”
“What is it you believe he did that was so bad? Wasn’t he the elf king’s royal healer?”