Claiming the Prince: Book One (12 page)

“What are you doing here, Elf?”

“I’ve come to find my queen,” he said. “And I’m very much hoping it will be you.” He glanced down at his shoulder, where she’d stabbed him. Blood soaked through his freshly cleaned shirt, down his sleeve. “I like the way you play.”

“I’m not playing,” she said.

“Yes, you are,” he said.

“And were you playing when you almost killed me?”

He folded his arms. “You should’ve told me where the Enneahedron was, and then I wouldn’t have had to use the nails.”

“And if I had, then Lavana would have it.”

“You could’ve lied,” he said as if it were obvious.

“You would’ve known if I was lying,” she said.

“Probably, but Lavana wouldn’t have.”

“No, but then Lavana would’ve killed me.”

“You’re right. She had every intention of killing you,” he said.

“And you would’ve let her.”

A hard remoteness settled over his face. “If Lavana becomes the Radiant, then I will join with her.”

“So you don’t want me. You want the Radiant.”

“I have no choice but to join with the Radiant of this province, but if I could choose, it would be you.”

“You don’t even know me,” she said.

“I know the way you smell and the way you taste. I know how I feel when I touch you and I know you like how that feels.”

She opened her mouth to curse him, but he pressed on before she could speak.

“And I know that you would rather suffer the worst kind of torture and die than submit. And I know how rare that is, in any creature.”

“But you’ll take Lavana, if you have to.”

His brow furrowed. “If I have to.”

“She doesn’t know that you’re here, that you . . .
like
me better.”

“No.”

“I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I have no intention of becoming the Radiant. All I plan to do is stop Lavana.”

“You’d allow your land to suffer?”

“Don’t talk to me about suffering, Elf! I know more small folk that your kind has terrorized than you have thoughts in your head. You’ve wiped out entire races! You treat with ogres and demons.” Her words formed a strangling pressure in her chest. She pressed the back of her hand to her mouth. “I can’t believe I—”

“You’ve never met an Elf, yet you know everything about us,” he said in a taut tone.

“You came here behind Lavana’s back. You’re betraying her, right now, isn’t that true?”

His jaw flexed.

“You’re a liar,” she spat. “You’re an opportunistic parasite—”

“We do what we have to do to survive. You don’t know anything, Magdalena of the Crystal Falls. Not about my people and not about me. I lie to Lavana because I need to protect myself. Just as you lie—”

“I do not—”

“You’re not going to allow this land to suffer. And you’re not going to allow Lavana to take power so long as you can prevent it—
if
you can prevent it. So stop lying to yourself, and admit that you are going vie for Radiant.”

“I don’t want to be the Radiant.”

“We all do things we don’t want to do, magpie,” he said, “because we have no better choice.”

“Even if I did become Radiant,” she said, “I would
never
join with you.”

“We’ll see,” he said.

He flicked his fingers and a sharp wind spun her away from him.

She swiveled back, but he was gone. And once again, her clothes were clean.

S
HE DROPPED
into the gully, sheaths on her fingers, blades hidden. Mud sucked at her sneakers. So much for being clean. Hero rushed through the leaf litter, scrambled up her leg, and onto her shoulder.

“Tamia!” she called.

The gully was long and winding, about as deep as she was tall. A small trickle of water ran down the center. Thin clouds remained in the sky, turning violet and pink as the sun set. Other than a few birds chit-chatting in the trees and the ubiquitous drone of bugs, the forest was quiet.

Still grinding her teeth over Endreas, she unsheathed her finger-knives, spun, and clawed the wet slope, flinging mud away into air.

Hero leapt from her shoulder and bounded back up into the brambles.

She didn’t know what made her feel worse. That she had allowed her Rae instincts to override her or that she’d done so with an Elf. Not just any Elf, the Crowned Prince.

No, she did know the worst part. It was that the thirst inside of her was stronger than ever. He had tortured her. He was a liar. He was an Elf. And yet, she wanted to be back in his arms, under him, with his mouth and his hands on her, in the mud, in a dungeon. The thirst didn’t care, as long as it happened and soon.

Sheathing her knives, she dug her fingers into her hair and roared.

“Troubles?” a gurgling voice asked.

Turning and dropping to the ground, legs crossed, her head fell into her hands. “I’m feeling sorry for myself, Tamia.”

“That’s it? No, how have you been, Tamia? What have you been up to? I’ve missed you, Tamia?”

She lifted her head. “I’ve missed you, Tamia. How have you been?”

The ribbon of water running along the gulch pooled before Magda. Out from the mud pushed a face the size of a manhole cover, vaguely feminine, with huge almond-shaped eyes and a knobby nose. Only her face appeared, as if she were buried on her back in the reddish-brown muck, but in fact, she had no back. She had no body. As the spirit of the Brackwood, she existed in every tree and through every creature who called the forest their home. This mucky manifestation was solely for the benefit of visitors.

“Anxious to the extreme.” Tamia’s voice was deep and melodic, yet a bit phlegmy sounding due to the mud. “Thank you very much.”

“So Kirk made it to you?”

“Of course he did. You sent him right to me.”

“And what happened?”

The whole of Tamia’s muddy face rippled as she rolled her eyes. “What do you think? I sent him away as fast as I could.”

“What?”

She sighed and the air around them seemed to heave. “I provided for him and gave him a guide. It was the best I could do.”

Magda almost kissed the face of mud. “Thank you, Tamia.”

“Now, what are you going to do?” Tamia asked archly. “Your Elf Prince was right. You will not allow the land to go without a Radiant and suffer. So either it will be you or Lavana.”

Magda gritted her teeth. “He’s not my Elf Prince—”

“Oh, he most obviously, definitely is. He was absolutely right that you’re lying to yourself about becoming Radiant and, now, about your feelings for him.”

“I don’t have feelings for him. He’s a Prince. That’s the only reason I have . . . urges. It’s the instinct. But I don’t understand why my Rae instincts are reacting to him. I mean, he’s an Elf.”

“That’s quite simple. Elves and Pixies were once the same race.”

Speechless, Magda stared down at the undulating face. “That’s not possible.”

“It’s not only possible, it’s true.”

She leaned forward, her hands sinking into the mud. “How can that be? How is it that I’ve never been told? That no one—”

“Your race is quite skilled at ignoring that which they do not wish to see. They chose to forget their origins. They chose to believe that Elves were of a different ilk, but they are not. At least, they weren’t when I was just a single sapling alone in this part of the land. Back then, there were no Elves or Pixies, just the Alfar. But those were days long ago, when the gods still walked in this world, before the Crown, before the Throne.”

“But why? Why did they . . . we separate?”

“It was the gods’ fault really. The Alfar were the gods’ servants. And as you know, the wars of the gods never end. The division began there, those who served one side and those who served the other. When the gods were forced to retreat from here, taking their wars to other worlds, the Alfar were left behind. They were crowned as rulers by their masters and held onto the old grudges of the gods.”

Magda shook her head. “I can’t believe we would just . . . forget that.”

“From what I hear, the Elves have not forgotten.”

“What do you hear?”

“All kinds of things, thank you for finally taking the time to ask. There was a reason the old Elf King wiped out the oracles, for one.”

“What reason?”

“A prophecy, of course. What else? Isn’t that always the way?”

“What was the prophecy?”

“I’ve been told many versions. It’s hard to say exactly which is true. That was the point of wiping out the oracles, so that no one else would know. But I’m told it has something to do with bringing together the Crown and the Throne, uniting the whole of Alfheim under one rule. Something about a stolen child whose birth would bear sigil to the advent of this.”

“That’s why Endreas has come, looking for a Pixie to be his queen . . . He’s trying to lay claim to the Lands.”

A bubble appeared on Tamia’s face, grew, and popped, splattering Magda’s jeans.

“Perhaps,” Tamia said. “I have heard many rumors about the King’s plans, but I have learned not to believe every bit of imp gossip that passes my way.”

“Mother always thought the Elves were preparing for war,” she said, “gathering all the resources and driving out anyone who might oppose them. That is why they favor the dire creatures . . .”

“Elves have always favored the ogres and the dragons and maligned ones, because their gods did. You should take care not to speculate too far beyond what you know for truth. And to be honest, sweet Magda, you have never known much truth.”

“You sound as though you want to defend the Elves. Haven’t you heard the rumors about what they’ve been doing to the Realms, clearing the forests—?”

“My roots are very old, Pixie child. I have fostered this forest and all the creatures in it for an age and a day. I have no wish to be laid waste. But I am deep in this land and I reach high, high above it. I know when change is coming. And it is coming.”

Magda’s shoulders sagged. The weight of the forest and the sky and even the earth weighed upon her. “You think I should vie for Radiant.”

“It does not matter to me,” Tamia said. “But I think you know that your Elf Prince is right.”

“He’s not—”

“Do you know why I speak to you, Magdalena? Many of your kind have called out to me, and I ignore them. But I speak to you. I give you my blessings. I help you. Why? What makes you so different from all the others?”

“I’m not different,” she said. “I’m like all the other Raes.”

“And that answer alone is what sets you apart. Do you think your cousins would claim they are not special? That they are not different, better, than you and all the others? You have been raised a Rae, but your heart, Magdalena, is different. Though you became who you were expected to be, a part of you remained untouched by the violence and the lies and the hatred. Do you remember what you said when you first came to this gully and called out to me?”

“No.”

“You said, ‘Please, Forest Mother, may I speak with you?’ Do you know how many Pixies have ever asked to speak to me?”

“No.”

“None. They all came and they demanded. They threatened. They screamed. They felt entitled to an audience. They acted as though I was their servant, and I could be summoned at their command. But I am no one’s servant, Magdalena. I helped you because I chose to, because even in that small gesture of asking, you showed more humility than any other of your entire race for the last thousand years.”

“I wasn’t humble,” Magda said. “My mother wouldn’t respond to me unless I asked politely for her attention. It was just what I was taught to do. It doesn’t make me special.”

“You might be surprised how much of a difference simple courtesy can make, especially to those who have never been shown such respect.”

Magda nodded, though she couldn’t help but think that courtesy was nothing more than a silken kind of manipulation. As she studied the shapes of her sheaths—the dragons, an eagle, a fairy—she couldn’t help but think that Endreas had returned her knives for that very reason, to trick her with a kind gesture. Once again, she reminded herself that she could not, and would not, trust him. No matter how potent and intoxicating the connection between them.

“Do you know where Kirk is now?” Magda asked.

“He is beyond my boundaries and has been for three days. He flies.”

“Flies? How?”

“On a high-horned owl, called Stalker,” Tamia said. “Though neither were particularly happy about it. Apparently, high-horns are known to hunt and eat brownies. Stalker is a transplant from the Elven Realms. His resettlement here was not easy, but he was willing to assist as a favor to me. I could not find any other who was willing. They do not wish to become involved. But Kirk and Stalker only fly at night. So they will not have reached the Spire yet.”

“Thank you, Tamia. You have shown me kindness I don’t deserve.”

“You may show your gratitude by protecting the creatures that dwell within me,” she said.

The weight crushing down on her grew heavier. “You wish me to be Radiant as well.”

“I know that if you are, you will not allow my children to come to harm. I am not important, Magda—”

“Without you, those creatures cannot survive.”

“That’s not true,” she said. “Stalker and Kirk both prove that. Before I grew here, there was a sea and before that, ice. I know, because the earth remembers. And when my trees have all died away, the earth will remember me. You cannot stop change. You cannot stop death. The question is only what will be remembered of you, and who will remain to remember it.”