Hidden Deep (22 page)

“Well, I’ve read about it in books, but I had no idea there really was such a thing.”

His chin dipped and he looked at me from under his brows, clearing his throat before speaking. “I tried to use it on you the day I surprised you at the pool in the woods when you were so afraid of me,” he confessed. “I’m sorry. I was desperate.”

“Oh—the ‘pushy’ look.”

“Yes, you remember. I won’t try it again—I promise. It’s better to know how you really feel about me than to trick you into some false emotion.”

“Good. I don’t think it worked on me anyway—did it? Maybe I’m immune.”

“Maybe. I’ve wondered about that. Influence isn’t really my specialty, though.”

“Influence? What do you mean?”

“Well, all Elves have a certain degree of influence—we call it Sway—but different family lines have different strengths when it comes to glamour. For some it’s a more powerful ability to influence human minds. For others it’s emotional connection, musical ability, physical prowess, even…” He blushed. “…even sexual appeal.”

“Is that your specialty?” I asked, completely serious.

Lad laughed. “Thank you for the compliment, but no. My father’s is leadership and inspiring trust. He says mine is the same. But I’m not very practiced at using my glamour. As a rule, none of us here like to use it. It’s one of the main things separating us from the Dark Elves—we make a point of not using our gifts to take advantage of humans—they think it’s foolish not to. A Dark Elf would probably be able to glamour you. Some of them are quite strong—they can even glamour other Elves in addition to humans.”

“So then, some Elves
do
associate with humans?”

“Oh yes. Extensively.”

“And if they’re the Dark Elves, what does that make you—Light Elves?” He nodded, and I continued. “So… what? They look different?”

“It’s not about appearance. We all have varied skin tones and hair and eye colors. It’s more about a difference in world views.”

“Oh, like Democrats and Republicans.”

He laughed. “Yes, but our politics are the oldest on the planet, and even more contentious. The rift goes back all the way to the First Ones. Naturally, they don’t call themselves Dark Elves—that’s our name for them. They call themselves “The Beings” and believe they’re as right as we believe
we
are. We seem to keep moving farther apart in our approaches to the human race. We
all
protect the secret. But the Light Elves do it by keeping ourselves as separate from the human world as possible, and the Dark Elves do the exact opposite, flirting with disaster by seeking the spotlight and relying on glamour for cover.”

“What do you mean the spotlight? I’ve never seen any.”

“You have. They masquerade as humans, but you’ve been watching them on television and in movies, listening to them on the radio your whole life.”

“You’re kidding.”

“No. As I said, Dark Elves enjoy manipulating humans and crave human admiration. So they’re very attracted to the entertainment field, and sports, and politics. They long for the Old Days, when being worshipped and served by humans was the normal order of business. In the beginning, none of us were in hiding. We were the gods of this world, if you will.”

“You’re telling me there are celebrities and politicians and famous athletes in this country who are actually Elves? How can you tell them apart from the famous humans?”

“Well, naturally
I
know which are Elves and which are not. But you could probably tell if you really tried. The ones who seem almost too good to be true—too perfectly formed, too strong, too talented—that’s how you know. Dark Elves have always been the most popular and highly acclaimed celebrities, and it’s on the rise, thanks to the fan pod system they’ve come up with.”

“Oh my God—fan pods? Vallon Foster and Serena Simmons. They’re Dark Elves?” A cold sensation crept through my stomach.
Emmy.
“What are the fan pods for? What do the Dark Elves want with them?”

“Well, to expand their following among humans, obviously, but we’re not sure exactly why. Or why they seem to be increasing their efforts lately. The Light Elves usually stay completely out of it, but my father and the rest of the High Council feel it’s getting out of hand now. It will be one of the main topics of discussion at the next Assemblage.”

“What’s that?”

“The Assemblage is a great gathering of Elves that’s been going on for thousands of years, a way of staying in contact with the other “tribes” so to speak. The Light and Dark High Councils and their entourages from all the different regions of this continent will come together to discuss policy. The next Assemblage will take place here. Everyone looks forward to it—there’s a lot of trading and mediation of disagreements between the groups, but it’s also a time of celebration.”

“So it’s like a big annual Elf Convention?”

Lad laughed. “Something like that, but the Assemblage happens only once every ten years. It’s not easy for such a large number of us to travel undetected on a more regular basis. Envoys from the different tribes visit each other more often, carrying reports and messages between them.”

Lad insisted he needed me with him to recover, so I stayed, and over the next few days we talked endlessly. I told him about school, my parents, Grandma, and my friends.

He explained day-to-day life in his underground world. He described growing up there and sneaking away as a child to try to find me again. I smiled, thinking of the mischievous, laughing boy he’d been, the curious, kind boy who’d saved me that night in the woods long ago.

Now he was so much more to me. I watched his animated face as he told a story.

I know him
.

A kind of warmth grew in my chest. For the first time, I felt like there was someone who really knew
me
. Lad knew and understood even the part of me I’d been forbidden to discuss with anyone else—and he
believed
me because he was part of it, too.

The dark warm room was our cocoon, where we could transform and grow strong together before we had to emerge and face the harsh realities of the world outside.

Of course, there wasn’t
just
conversation. We spent a ridiculous amount of time kissing. It never went further than that—there was still the unspoken danger of the coupled-for-life-thing. And how far could it really go anyway with what amounted to a babysitter posted right outside the door and the possibility of his parents barging in at any time?

I spent overnights in a room next door to Lad’s. It was dark and cozy like his. My first night there, either the bed had been extraordinarily comfortable or I’d been more exhausted than I realized, because I’d slept as if under a spell.

When I woke, I discovered several dresses draped over the bed, all made of the exquisite delicate fabric I’d seen the girls here wearing. I chose one and slipped it on, the soft wheat-colored material floating over my skin, light as breath. Though the garment was warm, I had to touch it over and over to be sure it was really there because it felt no more substantial than a spider web on my skin.

The only truly uncomfortable moments came when Lad’s parents, who I’d learned were called Ivar and Mya, paid their daily visits. I didn’t need the ability to hear thoughts to understand how his father felt about me. It was painfully obvious. Lad’s mother might have thought differently, but I couldn’t be sure. Mya seemed reluctant to even glance in my direction with Ivar’s hostility always dominating the atmosphere.

“Wow, he totally hates me,” I said after their third visit. I felt judged and a little angry, but I also understood Ivar’s position. If I were him, I would probably have hated me too.

“No. I told you, it’s not you, it’s—”

“It
is
me. It’s not just that he’s questioning his decision to let me go ten years ago, or the threat I pose because I’m a human where I don’t belong. It’s
me
. There’s something about me in particular that completely unhinges him. I can see it in his eyes when he looks at me.”

Lad tried to protest. “I’m sure you’re wrong. What could he possibly hold against you personally?” But I saw I’d made him wonder.

Each day, I made an excursion to the surface to call Mom and return texts. Lad always asked what she’d said, curious about my family.

“I can tell she’s a little jealous of her friend Shelly’s happy marriage—Mom misses being married.”

“How long were your parents together?”

“Sixteen years. They got married because Mom was pregnant with me, but they always seemed happy. Well, until recently, of course. In spite of all the things she says about men, I think she’ll end up marrying again eventually,” I told him. “That is, if she meets the right person.”

“And that’s really how it works? You meet someone, and you simply choose each other based on your feelings?”

I wasn’t sure where he was going with this. It seemed pretty straightforward to me. “Yeah… why do you have that look on your face?”

“Well, it’s just so different. Here, couplings are arranged by families on the basis of strengths and weaknesses and… alliances.” He looked down and drew on the bedspread with one finger as he finished.

“What about love? Passion? Doesn’t anybody feel that stuff?” I was strangely distressed by the idea of marriage without love, though that was no guarantee—my parents had supposedly started off in love, and look how it had turned out.

“As I told you before, it’s a permanent decision for us. It can’t be based on something changeable like feelings or passion. My people don’t make decisions rashly—probably why we’ve been around so long.”

“What about you? You seem… passionate.” My cheeks heated at his slow answering smile.

Lad leaned toward me, his voice gaining a teasing note. “Well now, I’m a rule-breaker, aren’t I? Reading about human romance… getting crazy ideas, letting myself be corrupted by a beautiful human girl…” His voice was a seductive caress, low and drawn out. “Of course, if more of us discovered kissing, there might be a great deal
less
practical decision making going on around here.” He moved in and took my mouth in a sweet, warm kiss that gave me some crazy ideas of my own.

When he eventually pulled away, I studied his face. “So it’s really true then? You’d honestly never even kissed anyone before me?”

“I told you, Ryann. You’ll eventually learn I never lie. What about you? Are you the marrying kind? Like your mother?”

“You know what’s funny? She’s the reason I’m
not
the marrying kind. Or maybe my father is the reason. Anyway, I’m not. I don’t know if I’ll ever get married. You will, I guess—since that’s the only way you can ever have…” My words drifted away in my embarrassment.

Lad nodded. “I
have
to. I have no choice. In fact…” He paused, shifting and looking away. “In fact, I don’t have much time.”

“What do you mean? Time for what?”

“Soon I’ll be eighteen—the age of coupling for the Elven people. When I told you before it was getting harder and harder for me to resist—that’s what I meant. As we approach our eighteenth birthdays, the drive to find a mate becomes stronger and stronger. I guess it’s Nature’s way of ensuring the continuation of our race.”

I blinked a few times and sat silently, trying to make sense of his words. “But eighteen is so young. And if you have a… wife…”

It was too obvious to even warrant saying out loud. No matter
how
I felt about Lad, or how he might feel about me, this relationship was going to be short term. Very short. In a few months I’d start my senior year, and Lad would become someone else’s
husband
.

I sensed myself heating up from the inside, a state somewhere between fury and despair taking over. My ears burned. I looked away from Lad toward the wall, trying to control my emotions.

His voice behind me was grim. “I’m sorry—I’ve been trying to tell you. I wish things were different… but I can’t help who I am.”

“I know.” My voice sounded ragged. “I don’t wish you were anyone other than who you are.”

Lad’s response was a whisper. “I do.”

He got up and crossed the room to retrieve his aelflute. Returning to the bed, he sat next to me and strummed it. The tune was nothing I’d heard before, but I recognized its sadness.

I should have been sorry for him in that moment, I guess. It would’ve been the generous emotion—if I never wanted to marry, that was my choice. It was also possible I’d change my mind someday. Again, my choice. For Lad, participating in an arranged marriage was required.

But I couldn’t feel anything besides anger at myself and maybe a little embarrassment, too. I mean, really—how many times did reality have to slap me in the face? How had I let myself get in this deep? I knew better. I had to let go of the dream of being with him.

I stood and turned toward Lad, looking down into his mournful face. “I’m tired. I’m going to my room now.”

He reached out for my hand. “No. Stay. Stay for a little while longer? It’s your last night here.”

“I know. I think I should get an early start home tomorrow… in case my mom comes back early.”

Lad must have heard the determination in my voice because he didn’t argue further. Rising from the bed, he put his hands on my shoulders and bent to kiss me. I dropped my chin, hiding my face.