Union (17 page)

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Authors: Annabelle Jacobs

BOOK: Union
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Across from the jetty, a long white sandy beach stretched in front of the city, curving round in a wide arc. The sand looked warm and inviting, and the blue water of the Nalvaq Sea sparkled under the evening sun.

“It’s amazing,” Nykin whispered.

The city itself was huge—sprawling white buildings interspersed with tall glass structures—and the whole place surrounded by the tallest trees Nykin had ever seen. They had trunks as thick as some of the buildings, and their uppermost branches rose high above everything else. “Are those walkways between the trees?” he asked, far too excited not to talk out loud.

“Yes, Nykin, I believe so.”
Fimor was still circling the beach, but Selene and Kalesh were almost landing.
“I’m certain either Faelon or Avelor would be more than happy to show you around later, but I think we should land. King Ryneq and Princess Cerylea will be off the ships any moment, and we should be there to greet everyone formally.”

Nykin suddenly remembered why they were here. He would be acting as both the king’s consort and a dragon rider, and he definitely needed to be on the ground when the elven royal family arrived. He looked around for Selene and cursed when he saw her and Kalesh settling gracefully onto the soft sand below. “Come on, then. Take us down.”

Fimor dipped his long neck and angled them toward the beach, getting lower and lower with each pass until they landed with a soft thump next to Selene and Kalesh.

“Nice of you to join us, Nykin.” She laughed as Nykin turned to glare at her. “I thought you were never going to land.”

“I was just admiring the city. I’ve never seen anything like it before.” Nykin slipped off Fimor’s back and walked over to stand beside Selene.

She smiled up at him. “I know, me neither.” She looked back up at the city behind them, and Nykin followed her gaze. “I don’t really blame you for staying up there so long—the view was breathtaking.” Nykin nodded in agreement, “But you were cutting it really fine, Nykin.” She nudged him and pointed over in the direction of the ships.

Ryneq and Cerylea were already on the jetty, greeted by a group of elves. Nykin thought he recognized Prince Morkryn among them and possibly Faelon and Avelor. He assumed the others were more members of the royal family and probably the elders too. “Yeah, I see what you mean.”

They both watched as the elves turned and started walking back along the jetty, with Cerylea and Ryneq in the middle of the group. Nykin had a feeling they were headed their way, and when they began to descend the steps to the beach, he was certain of it. He and Selene had already taken off their furs, and they straightened out their uniforms, making sure they were as presentable as possible after the journey they’d had.

“Do you think they know about the witch?” Selene asked, leaning close to Nykin and whispering.

The elves were nowhere near close enough to hear them, but he still whispered back when he answered. “Who?”

She frowned then. “I was going to say the elves, but now that you mention it, do you think King Ryneq and Princess Cerylea are aware that the storm was magical?”

Nykin thought about the way the sea had looked—waves crashing into the ships from all sides. Neither Ryneq nor Cerylea would have known that the storm was concentrated in a tight circle around them, but surely they would have noticed that the sea wasn’t behaving naturally? “I think they had to have suspected something. They might not know it was a witch, but I’m positive they know it wasn’t a normal storm.”

“Do you think they’ve mentioned anything to the elves? Should we?” Selene asked, reaching out to run a hand down Kalesh’s neck as she fidgeted on the sand. “It’s okay, Kalesh. Fimor trusts them.” Kalesh snorted in response, and Nykin could imagine what she just replied.

“Did she just insult you, Fimor?” He caught Selene’s smirk just as Fimor began to speak.

“She did indeed. Apparently I have made questionable decisions in the past and Kalesh, in her infinite wisdom, would rather make her own mind up about the elves.”

Kalesh’s tail whipped around, the end flicking Fimor on the tip of his wing, and he turned to snap at her flank. Selene burst out laughing, covering her mouth with her hand to try to stifle the sound.

“What did she say?” Nykin looked pointedly between Fimor and Selene. “Anyone?” he added when neither of them was forthcoming with a reply.

Selene grinned. “She suggested that if Fimor didn’t like what she had to say, then he didn’t have to listen.”

Fimor huffed and looked at Selene with disdain.
“Her language was a little more colorful than that.”

The elves were fast approaching, and Nykin felt nervous. This was important, not only to Ryneq but for the whole of Torsere, and Nykin was desperate to make a good impression. “Selene,” he hissed, dragging her attention back to the group of people walking toward them.

“It’ll be fine, Nykin.” She smiled and gave his hand a quick squeeze. “Just relax.”

Easy for you to say,
Nykin thought. The early-evening sun warmed his back, and he started to feel a little uncomfortable in his uniform. The soft leather was to keep him warm while flying and wasn’t designed for waiting around on a beach in the sun.

Prince Morkryn arrived first and greeted them. He stepped forward and shook Nykin’s hand with a warm smile. “Good to see you again, Nykin. I must say you’re looking much healthier than the last time we met.”

Nykin returned his smile, relaxing a little. “Thank you, Your Highness.”

Morkryn waved his hand. “Please, just call me Morkryn. We don’t bother with titles when we’re back in Alel.” He glanced over at Fimor and grinned. “It’s good to see you too, Fimor.”

Fimor inclined his head and snorted out a tiny jet of orange flame. Morkryn laughed in delight.

“Show-off.”
Nykin raised an eyebrow at his dragon, but Fimor, unsurprisingly, chose to ignore him. By now the others had arrived, and before Nykin had a chance to introduce Morkryn to Selene and Kalesh, Ryneq was in front of him. He placed his hands on either side of Nykin’s jaw, eyes dark and intense as he drew Nykin forward into a kiss.

Nykin wasn’t sure what the protocol was for meeting elven royalty, but he was almost positive this wasn’t it. Despite his misgivings about Ryneq’s display of affection, Nykin slipped his hands down onto Ryneq’s waist, and held on as Ryneq’s tongue licked over his bottom lip. Two days’ worth of stubble rubbed over Nykin’s skin, and the feel of it sent a shiver down his spine.

A polite cough and an amused chuckle sounded from somewhere behind Ryneq, and he pulled away slowly. He rested his forehead against Nykin’s for a moment and whispered that they’d talk later before taking a step back.

“Forgive me, Ahlyria.” Ryneq turned and bowed in apology to the elven queen. The other elves were standing quietly behind her, all looking slightly amused, and Nykin noticed that Cerylea wasn’t with them. “We had a rather turbulent journey, and I….”

It was probably the first time Nykin had seen Ryneq lost for words.

Ahlyria laughed, her voice so clear and enchanting Nykin found himself leaning closer to hear it better. “No need for apologies, Ryneq. I know well the pull of new love.” Ahlyria was tall, like all the elves appeared to be, with long silver-white hair that fell about her shoulders in waves. Her eyes, now focused entirely on Nykin, were a beautiful deep blue, and Nykin was so taken with the color that he almost missed it when Ryneq introduced him.

“Ahlyria.” Ryneq nodded at the king standing beside her. “Nihathyl.” He slipped an arm around Nykin’s waist and urged Nykin to move forward a little to stand beside him. “May I present my consort, Nykin of Torsere, and his bonded dragon, Fimor.”

Nykin bowed his head in respect, just like Ryneq had instructed him to do before they’d left Torsere.

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Nykin.” Ahlyria stepped up to him and grasped his left hand in hers.

Nykin immediately felt the pull of her magic as it reached out and wrapped around him. The pull wasn’t as strong as when he’d felt Faelon’s magic back in the Eyrie. This was more like a polite touch, skimming over his skin and then drawing back. “And you too, Fimor. My son and his guards”—Ahlyria’s eyes flicked over to Faelon, and his cheeks flushed at the attention—“have talked about the two of you nonstop since they returned.” She still had hold of Nykin’s hand, and Nykin’s mark flared as she rubbed her thumb back and forth over it. “Your bond with the dragon is strong, Nykin.”

“Fimor?”
Nykin tensed, not used to his mark reacting so strongly to anyone other than Fimor.

“It’s all right, Nykin.”
Fimor sent a wave of calming warmth through the bond, and Nykin relaxed into it. Ahlyria smiled knowingly, as though she’d felt it too, and Nykin’s heart rate spiked.
“The elf queen’s magic is powerful, but she means us no harm.”

Ahlyria finally let go of Nykin’s hand but didn’t move back. “I’m sorry if I startled you. It wasn’t my intention, but the connection between you and Fimor is one of the strongest magical bonds I’ve ever encountered. No wonder everyone was so enthralled by you.” Her smile was teasing, and Nykin felt himself flush slightly. “But where are my manners.”

She did move back then, and allowed her husband to take her place. Nihathyl was a little taller than Ahlyria, with dark hair and eyes to match. His hair curled over his pointed ears, brushing the tops of his shoulders, and he was a fitting match for Ahlyria’s beauty.

Ryneq’s arm had remained tight around Nykin’s waist throughout, and he gave Nykin a reassuring squeeze, which Nykin immediately leaned into. Ryneq was a solid warmth beside him, and Nykin felt his confidence return.

“I too have heard nothing but good things about you, Nykin.” Nihathyl reached out and clasped Nykin’s hand firmly in his, and even though Nykin felt a tingling in his fingers, Nihathyl kept his magic to himself. Nykin was confused at first, and it must have shown on his face, because Nihathyl laughed softly as he withdrew his hand. “Although I’m just as curious about you as my wife, I’m hoping that you and Fimor will have time to tell us all about your bond and the magic involved?”

Nykin automatically turned to Ryneq for his approval. The elf king may have asked him, but he wouldn’t freely discuss the secrets of a dragon rider without consulting his own king first.

Ryneq smiled, looking both pleased and relieved that Nykin had deferred to him. “As our two kingdoms will soon be joined, Nykin, you may speak freely about being a dragon rider.” He gestured behind him at Selene and Kalesh, who up until now had been standing quietly off to the side. “May I also introduce you to another of my dragon riders, Selene, and her bonded dragon, Kalesh.”

Everyone’s attention now focused on Selene, and she blushed profusely, much to Nykin’s delight.

“Selene, you are also free to answer any questions about Kalesh and your bond. I’m sure between you and Nykin, you’ll be able to answer any queries.

“Of course, Sire.” Selene bowed her head and returned the smile Ryneq gave her, which finally put her at ease.

“I believe you know my son, Morkryn.” Nihathyl said, and the Prince came forward to greet them. He smiled warmly at Ryneq and Nykin, before introducing himself to Selene. Nihathyl then proceeded to introduce the two elders from the boats followed by Faelon, Avelor, and Lerran. Nykin grinned broadly as the three familiar elves stepped forward and embraced him rather enthusiastically. Ryneq had let go of him when he’d turned to talk to Selene, but his arm was immediately back in place the moment Faelon approached. Nykin tried not to laugh at this, but he wouldn’t deny how much he liked Ryneq’s possessive nature.

All three of them were just as excited to meet Selene and Kalesh, but Nykin didn’t miss the way Lerran held onto her hand just a little longer than the others had. Nykin cocked an eyebrow at Selene when the elves had stepped back behind their prince, but she just shrugged as though she had no idea what he was suggesting.

Fimor’s amused voice sounded in Nykin’s head. He should have known he wouldn’t be the only one to spot it.
“It would seem Selene has her own elven admirer, eh, Nykin?”

“Yes, I thought Lerran was never going to give her hand back
.

Nykin made a mental note to remind Selene about the strength of elf magic.

Ahlyria clapped her hands together, drawing everyone’s attention back. “Now that’s all out of the way—” She sighed and rolled her eyes as though the whole thing was a tedious necessity. Nykin really liked her. She looked directly at Ryneq as she continued. “—tell us all about your journey, Ryneq. I hear from Glaevahl that you had a little trouble?”

Ryneq let his arm drop from Nykin’s waist and rubbed at the back of his neck. “We were hit by a storm. It came out of nowhere—violent and unnatural. We assumed it was magic, but that’s all we know.”

Nykin cleared his throat. “If I may, Sire.” Ryneq gestured for him to go ahead. “The dragons believed a witch to be responsible. The storm circle was extremely difficult to penetrate. The dragons had to work together to break the spell with their magic.”

The elves were practically vibrating with excitement at that, and Nykin anticipated hundreds of questions heading their way.

“Yes,” Ahlyria agreed. “A witch does seem the likely cause. Although I haven’t felt one nearby.” She shared a look with her husband but didn’t comment further. “I’m sure everyone wants to know more about how your dragons broke the witch’s spell, Ryneq, but first let us show you to your quarters. I hope you will all join us for a late supper after you’ve settled in. Cerylea’s already in her rooms, and I’m sure she’ll be ready to eat soon.”

“Thank you, Ahlyria. We would be honored.” Ryneq gestured to Fimor and Kalesh when he spoke again. “Unharness your dragons. I believe there’s somewhere inside for you to store everything.”

“Yes, Your Highness,” Faelon answered. “I’ll be glad to show Nykin and Selene to the temporary storeroom under the royal quarters.” Ryneq nodded his thanks, and Nykin barely resisted grinning at the pained look on Ryneq’s face. He still didn’t trust the elf where Nykin was concerned, despite all Nykin’s attempts to assure him that Faelon was involved with Avelor.

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