The Elven King by Lexi Johnson Page B

someone, but they had a geis of silence between them, and I couldn’t hear what they spoke about.
    “While they were talking, she called one of the birds of the upper canopy to her. As I watched, she whispered something to it -- before she ripped free its primary feathers, one by one, and tossed the bird off of the ledge. The poor thing flapped madly, but without the flight feathers, it plummeted.”
    And how the princess had giggled, hiding her teeth behind her hand, her face sharp with delight. Aranion shuddered at the memory.
    “I swear by all the Gods, I felt that bird’s terror and pain right up to the moment it died. Whatever mask the Bane Sidhe are putting on to foster this pretense of peace between us, it is a lie. Their ways are all deceit and betrayal. We cannot allow this taint into our home.”
    Meldigur’s face had lost all mirth. He nodded seriously. “And that’s when you decided to run?”
    “No,” said Aranion. “That’s when I spoke with my father. I wouldn’t have betrayed his sworn promise without speaking with him first.” He sighed. “But ever since Herion died, and his successor has been interpreting the Gods’ signs, things have…changed.”
    Meldigur’s eyebrows rose sharply. “Are you saying Talathion is manipulating the signs?”
    Aranion shrugged. “He’s young. Far too young for the job. That’s what I’m saying -- and I’m not the only one. But, as you know, my father believes that if he follows the Gods’ path exactly, he will find a way to bring my mother back from her endless sleep. And Talathion is aware of this too.” He shook his head. “It’s not a good situation, however you view it.”
    “So, you would claim to know better than the Gods?”
    “I know evil when I see it,” Aranion said decisively. “If I stayed and participated in this farce of a marriage, it would give the Bane Sidhe free rein -- as family -- to intrude in our halls. Then, unavoidably, their ways would taint ours. They wouldn’t need to conquer us. They could simply devour us from inside. Our people would be left as what the Bane Sidhe already are: only a beautiful shell, around a rotting core.”
    Sade had been listening intently, looking from one to the other. Now she said, “So… Your marriage is arranged?” She seemed to have grown calmer. “That’s not right at all.”
    Aranion shrugged. “It’s how things are done,” he said. “We don’t marry for love, though love can develop as a result. And a husband or wife may take pleasure as they will, and any children of such unions are met with joy and respect. To tell the truth, it’s so difficult for us to have children that any child is welcome. But…” He paused. “A soul-bond is a different thing.”
    “It had better be,” Sade said. “If you’re with me, you’re with me and only me.”
    Meldigur coughed. “Well, you mortals aren’t so long-lived as we are.”
    Aranion was no longer so sure that was the case, as much as that time there moved more rapidly than time did on this side of the Veil. What would have happened to his lifespan, if he’d crossed over and stayed? Would he have lived only a mere 70 or 80 years?
    “So, it’s like dating a vampire?” Sade said. “Like on that show? You’ll stay young and beautiful, while I get old and die?”
    “Not if you stay here,” Aranion quickly assured her. He’d learned that much from his childhood lessons about mortals. “But,” he added, “when you go back, whatever intervening time has passed in your world will soon settle in your flesh and spirit. That is why it’s so dangerous for mortals to cross over for more than a short time.”
    “I—“ Sade’s eyes widened. Her voice caught. “So you’re saying even when the gate opens again, I might still be trapped here?”
    “Trapped?” Aranion echoed dumbly.
    The thought that Sade would feel trapped with him was startlingly painful. Although, of course, that was essentially what had happened. It was why