Page 67 of Bound to the Elvin Prince

Chapter 25

Cal glanced up from the very old book she was supposed to be reading. The small, private library she and Maggie sat in was actually more like a den than a true library. She figured it had once been a previous resident’s study, one who’d apparently loved to read. Shelf upon shelf of books strongly hinted at that.

She glanced down at the tome again, knowing she was procrastinating. Since Relian had left two weeks ago, she didn’t feel like doing anything. Seeing how lost she was, Henril had guided her and Maggie to this little room, instructing them to read and summarize in Elvish whatever they read. She wasn’t having much success with that.

Did Relian feel the same listlessness, the same sense of loss? Could this be the bond at work? He said there were effects, but wasn’t it too soon? She glared at the words before her as if they were to blame. For Relian’s safety, she hoped he wasn’t experiencing the same emotions. If he was fighting, she didn’t want him distracted. He was an excellent warrior, or so she’d heard, but that didn’t negate the importance of caution.

The sound of Maggie’s voice broke into her awareness. “Hey, what are you doing now?”

Cal schooled her scowling face into a neutral look before glancing up. “Reading. Just like you. Why?”

“I can’t make sense of this, though the words seem clear enough.” Maggie sighed, pointing down to an old scroll lying open before her.

“Are you sure you have the translation right?”

“Relatively.”

Her weary body protested the thought of moving, but as the scroll was delicate and shouldn’t be pushed around, she forced herself to go to Maggie’s side.

Maggie pointed to the troublesome passage. “Here it is.”

Cal quickly scanned it, unease welling up in her stomach, and then read it out loud. “What once was lost can be found, for it plays under the guise of the moon. The crimson dawn need not be all that remains. Broken must be the bonds chaining original thought and emotion from instinct. Life’s blood must be spilt, freely given. The maddening ties can then be sundered once mortality cuts the link. And then magic will abound.”

She finished and stared at the paper before looking at Maggie. “What the...”

“I know. That was my reaction, too.”

Cal glanced at the parchment again, frowning. Slowly, the possible meanings of the words took form in her mind.

She gripped Maggie’s shoulder for support, leaning heavily against the table. Her breath, short and choppy, accompanied her racing heart. “Could this be about the darkindred?”

Maggie’s face turned ashen. “Oh my God, when you say that, these words suddenly make a lot more sense.”

“This is unbelievable.” Cal rubbed a hand over her face. “And I’m saying this as we’re stranded in another dimension.”

“It does sound like those creatures,” Maggie said, her voice shaky. “The darkindred.”

Cal fumbled for her seat, sitting down with a thud. “It does.”

Her friend bent low over the parchment, scrutinizing it. “So what does this all mean? It sounds ominous to me.”

Cal closed her eyes as she retreated into thought and absent-mindedly rubbed the band on her wrist. “Mortality.” Just one word. Yet it stood out in her mind. Her eyes snapped open.

“Mortality? The darkindred will be dead once they’re killed? That’s true.” Maggie’s solemn expression lightened, a smile spreading over her face. “Kind of the purpose of death. Staying dead and all that.”

As quick as it’d come, the smile slid from Maggie’s lips. “What?” she mumbled to herself and scanned the scroll again. “There’s no way they would willingly spill their own blood. Unless they have to spill elvin blood, willingly given? But how would spilling elvin blood cut this so-called link?” She bit her lip, hesitating. “It does mention mortality, so maybe an elf has to be willing to die?”

Cal shook her head slowly, a frightening realization dawning. “No, I don’t think that’s what it means.”

Maggie glowered at her. “Oh, then what, Miss Smarty Pants? Do please enlighten me.”

Her thoughts coalesced, ordering themselves into a somewhat coherent fashion. “I don’t know for certain, but it does mention restoration is possible.”

“How so?”

Cal got up and pointed to a sentence in the passage. “The part about ‘maddening ties can then be sundered once mortality cuts the link’ refers to a kind of reversal of the conversion process, if I’m not mistaken. Mortality and blood—I think they go hand-in-hand.”

“Okay, I’ll give you that. But whose mortality and blood fit together like pieces of a puzzle?”

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