“You’re a roving merchant, so you must be well aware that everyone born in the kingdoms is bound to their birth kingdom. With the exception of your bloodline, everyone pays a price for any time they spend beyond their kingdom’s borders.”
“Of course I know that. I may not have gone to a regular school, but I still received an education.”
He nodded, ignoring her snippy tone.
“And I’m sure you’ve met enough people to know that the Legacies keep most people content with that situation.”
“Most, but not all,” she said softly, reminded of Olivia.
“Right.” He nodded. “For some people, their desire for new and different—or their love for adventure—is so strong that it can’t be satisfied within their own borders. The Legacies aren’t enough to stop those people, but they all pay a price for their wanderlust.”
“And that’s you?” she asked, unconvinced. She had met people like that, and he didn’t have the air of one of them.
“No.” A weight seemed to settle over his shoulders. “That was my mother.”
“Your mother?” Avery looked thoughtfully into the fire and then back at his face. She had seen children who paid the price for their parents’ desire to travel, but she still didn’t know what that had to do with Elliot following her.
“You do know I’m interested in an explanation for why you’re following me, not your whole life story, right?” she asked tartly.
He winced and laughed. “Sorry. But the reason I’m following you started twenty-one years ago.”
“Considering I wasn’t even born then, that’s impressive,” she said dryly before gesturing for him to continue.
“My mother always resented being trapped in one place, and she was determined her child would be free to travel. She and my father lived near the mountains, so when it came close to her time to deliver, she crossed over the border to have me in the mountains.”
“You’re a mountain baby?” Avery had met a lot of people in her life, but she’d never met one of those. “I’ve heard people avoid giving birth in the mountains since the results can be…unpredictable. The few expectant mothers in the remote mountain communities travel into the kingdoms to have their babies. But you’re saying your mother did the opposite?”
“Unfortunately, yes.”
Avery leaned forward, eyes glistening. She had been curious about Elliot from the first moment she saw him, but her curiosity swelled at his confession.
“So?” she prompted when he didn’t immediately speak. “What happened?”
“I’m not tied to any one kingdom, just like my mother hoped,” he said. “I can travel freely—sort of.”
“Sort of? What does that mean?”
He braced his arms on his knees, his hands dangling down between them and his head drooping in the same direction.
“The Legacies didn’t bind me to a particular kingdom, but neither did they leave me completely free. I’m told the birth was very painful, and the birth attendant who had accompanied my mother gave her a candlestick to hold. It was the easiest item at hand of the right shape, and she gripped it like a lifeline to keep herself from breaking my father’s hand with the strength of her grip.”
“Let me guess—it was a three-branched candelabra?” Avery asked slowly, her eyes widening.
Elliot dropped his head all the way into his hands. “Yes,” he whispered.
“Sorry, what was that?” Avery asked, leaning forward in an effort to catch his subsequent words.
He looked up and spoke more forcefully.
“Yes. I’m the butt of the Legacies’ worst joke. I’m not tied to a kingdom; I’m tied to a candelabra. Instead of being confined within borders, I’m punished whenever I get too far from the candelabra.”
“Being away from it makes you weak and sick?” Avery asked, remembering the way he had looked in the trees and how quickly he had seemed to recover.
“Dizziness, nausea, a splitting headache, weak legs—everything,” he said glumly.
Avery frowned. “I know everyone responds to leaving their kingdom differently, but I’ve never heard of a reaction that strong—or that painful. It’s usually described more as a discomfort, but one that can start to feel unbearable as time passes.”
“Well, that’s for people tied to an entire kingdom. Apparently concentrating the bond into something the size of a candlestick amplifies it.”