Union (28 page)

Avelor sat slumped on the ground, leaning up against the tree with Faelon’s body cradled in his arms. Faelon wasn’t moving, and Ryneq didn’t like the way all the color had drained from his face. It reminded him of how Nykin looked after Hatak had stabbed him—so near to death.

A flurry of movement caught Ryneq’s attention, and he turned to see Seran’s men scoop up the witch and retreat back into the trees. Seran was already gone, but Ryneq didn’t think for one moment that they’d seen the last of him or the witch.

He rushed over and crouched in front of Faelon. He hated himself as the words came out, but he had to ask. “Is he…?”

Avelor sighed heavily, stroking his thumb across the pale skin of Faelon’s cheek. “No, but he’s not good. I don’t….” His breath hitched, and Ryneq reached out and gripped his shoulder, silently offering his understanding and support. He’d been there, and he knew that nothing he could say would help. “I don’t know if there’s anything we can do to help him. Her magic was dark and very strong.” Avelor closed his eyes, rested his forehead against Faelon’s, and tightened his grip on Faelon’s body to pull him closer against his chest. “The others are here.”

Ryneq heard shouts behind them, and soon Lerran charged through the trees accompanied by at least a hundred elves, all on horseback. They fanned out in a line, some dismounting and walking over to the barrier as Lerran knelt in front of Avelor and Faelon. “What happened?” he asked softly. He pressed his hand against Faelon’s chest before pulling it back quickly. “A spell?”

“Dark magic.” Avelor placed his hand where Lerran’s had just been and let it rest there. “She was trying to break the barrier and cast a spell at the tree where I was trying to stop her.” He leaned forward and kissed the top of Faelon’s head. “He saved my life.” Avelor drew in a long deep breath, and Ryneq could tell he was barely holding it together.

Ryneq tugged on Lerran’s arm until he stood. He beckoned Lerran away a little to talk. “We need to get him back to the city. You must have healers with magic strong enough to help him?”

The look on Lerran’s face said it all, and Ryneq’s heart dropped like a stone. Faelon hadn’t started out as his favorite person—not with the way he’d behaved toward Nykin—but he was brave and loyal, and Ryneq had formed a grudging respect for him. He’d helped save Nykin’s life, after all.

“But there must be something you can do?” Ryneq refused to believe that with all the magic in Alel they had no one who could save him.

Lerran shook his head. “We have healers, excellent ones, but the witch used old magic, very dark and powerful.” He glanced back over at Faelon. “I can feel it festering inside him, and I’m not sure even our healers are powerful enough to combat that.”

“But you have to try,” Ryneq insisted.

He started toward Faelon and Avelor, but Lerran caught his arm.

“Yes, you’re right, of course we should try. Just don’t get his hopes up.” He turned and barked a few orders for his men to gather up Ryneq’s, Avelor’s, and Faelon’s horses, before facing Ryneq again. “Take him back to Alel.”

Ryneq nodded and hurried over to where Avelor still sat against the tree. He had his eyes closed, and they fluttered open as Ryneq knelt next to him. “We’re going to take him back to the city, to get help.”

Avelor looked at him, resignation and acceptance written all over his face. “There’s nothing that can help him now.”

Ryneq had had just about enough of everyone accepting Faelon’s imminent death so readily. He was still reeling from the shock of what had happened, and his nerves were already fraught. “Don’t you even want to try?” he hissed, gesturing at Faelon’s seemingly lifeless form. “Are you just going to let him die without a fight? Don’t you care?”

Avelor’s eyes flashed purple. Ryneq knew he was way out of line, but he needed Avelor to get angry, anything other than his current state. “I love him. Of course I care.” He spat the words, and Ryneq felt the hurt and agony in his voice. “But if it is his time, then I must accept it and let him go, with dignity. As hard as that may be. I don’t want to cause him unnecessary pain by moving him.”

Ryneq wracked his brains to think of anything that could persuade Avelor to get up. “Lerran said it was old magic that did this, so maybe old magic can heal him too?”

Avelor sighed, all the anger leaving him as he sagged against the tree trunk. “It’s possible, but even our elders don’t have enough power to fix this. We don’t practice the old ways anymore. I don’t know how the witch came by her power, but it’s far beyond anything we’ve encountered in hundreds of years. The magic infused in the barrier is very old, and she managed to break through enough to harm Faelon. She would have ripped it wide open if he hadn’t gotten in the way.”

“What if there was someone who knew about old magic and had enough power to use it?” Ryneq watch the realization dawn on Avelor’s face.

“Fimor?” The spark of hope flared in his eyes, and Ryneq prayed to the Gods he wasn’t wrong in thinking Fimor might be able to help. But they had at least to give it a try. “I don’t know… I….” Avelor glanced down at Faelon, and a grim determination settled over his features. “Help me get him up and onto a horse.”

Ryneq wanted to grin in triumph, but he held it back. The whole thing might be a waste of time, and Fimor might not be able help Faelon, but at least they were going to try. He helped manhandle Faelon so he was sitting astride Avelor’s horse, with Avelor behind him and Faelon leaning heavily against his chest.

“Avelor?” Lerran marched over to them as Ryneq climbed into his saddle.

“I’m taking him back to the city to see Fimor. I know it might not help, Lerran. But King Ryneq is right. I have to try.” He wrapped one arm securely around Faelon’s chest and gripped the reins tightly with his free hand.

“Good luck.” Lerran waved them off and headed back to the barrier.

“Come on, then.” Avelor turned his horse around and shifted Faelon a little. “We don’t have much time.”

He set off into the trees, and Ryneq hurried to follow after him, hoping with everything he had that this would work.

F
IMOR
LANDED
on the beach, and Nykin was off his back as soon as Fimor tucked his wings into his side.

“Nykin!” Selene came running toward them, her hair loose and flying about her face as she hurried across the sand.

They’d spotted her from the sky, and by the look on her face, whatever she had to tell them wasn’t going to be good. Nykin rubbed his side and across his stomach. The dull throb was still there under his skin but steadily getting less and less, and that worried Nykin even more.

“Fimor, it’s getting weaker. Can you feel it?”

“Yes, Nykin. I feel it.”

“That’s bad, isn’t it?”

Fimor turned to face him and let out a puff of air. It sounded very much like a resigned sigh, and Nykin almost didn’t want him to answer.

“Yes. It’s bad.”

Selene skidded to a halt in front of them. She rested her hands on her knees as she bent over, trying to catch her breath. “There’s been an attempt on the barrier.” She stood up straight, and drew in a couple more deep breaths before continuing. “Faelon sent back a request for help, and Lerran rode out with the others to investigate.”

“Fimor says there’s a witch.” Nykin glanced up as he heard the soft beat of wings overhead. “He thinks it might be the same one who conjured the storm.”

“Yes, Kalesh told me when she passed on Fimor’s message.”

Kalesh landed next to them then, and Selene immediately walked over to greet her. She was silent for a few moments, and Nykin assumed she was talking to her dragon. When she finally came back to stand with Nykin, she looked as grim as Nykin felt. “Kalesh agrees with Fimor. She says she can’t be absolutely sure, but the magic feels the same as the storm. It’s old dark magic. Kalesh says the last time she saw such magic was before the dragons came to Torsere.”

Nykin explained about his apparent connection with Faelon, and although Selene raised an eyebrow when he mentioned how Faelon left some of his magic inside him, she didn’t comment. “I can still feel it,” he added, waving his hand over his body. “But not as much anymore.”

He didn’t have to add that wasn’t good, because Selene got it. “Do you know what happened?”

Her face fell, and she shook her head. “Not really. Faelon used his cuff to call for help, and then Lerran sprang into action. He’d already left when I got your message.”

“His cuff?” Obviously their magical cuffs had more than one use. He rubbed his fingers over his wrist, remembering when he’d had to wear one.

“Yes. Lerran had one as well. We were talking, and all of a sudden it glowed bright purple, and then everything started to happen.”

Nykin slumped down onto the sand and rested his head back against Fimor’s side. “What do we do now, then?” He had no way of knowing where Ryneq and the elves were, and even if he could find them, Nykin was only one dragon rider. He wouldn’t be able to take Fimor in there with him, so what use would he be?

“I guess we wait.” Selene echoed his thoughts and sat next to him. She reached out and linked her fingers with his, resting her head on his shoulder. “Which is the worst,” she added, and Nykin grinned in spite of everything.

“Yes, it is.”

T
HEY
SAT
together on the sand, waiting, for what seemed like hours. Kalesh had moved to the other side of Fimor, so she could drape the end of her tail over Selene’s lap. The dragons provided a little shade under the steadily warming sun, and the four of them watched the roads surrounding the royal quarters for any sign of movement.

“Nykin!” Selene elbowed him in the side, and he must have dozed off at some point because now his head was resting on Selene’s shoulder.

He sat up straight and rubbed at his eyes. “What’s wrong?”

She pointed over toward the road that ran alongside the royal quarters and led directly onto the beach. “I thought I saw something.” Nykin followed where her fingers were pointing, and he squinted in the bright light. “There.”

Sure enough, two white elven horses came into view, heading straight for the beach. Nykin’s heart lurched as he recognized the rider at the front. “That’s Ryneq,” he said, getting up quickly with Selene doing the same. “And that’s Avelor and Faelon behind him…
oh no.”

As the riders got closer to the beach, Nykin could easily see Faelon’s slumped form held tightly in place by Avelor. He didn’t appear to be moving at all, and Nykin felt sick at the implication.

“Nykin,” Selene whispered. “Why are they bringing him here?” She bit her bottom lip and looked up at him.

“I have no idea….”

They both hurried forward as the horses stopped at the edge of the beach.

“Fimor, is there anything we can do for them? Do you know why they’ve come?”

Fimor sighed, and Nykin felt his apprehension through the bond.
“I think I may have an idea.”

Nykin watched as Ryneq jumped down with ease and rushed around to help Avelor. Ryneq was clearly uninjured, and Nykin relaxed a little at that, but when Nykin saw the way Ryneq and Avelor struggled with Faelon’s lifeless body, he felt guilt stab at his insides.

“Tell them they need to hurry.”
Fimor’s voice sounded urgent, and Nykin stumbled slightly.
“He doesn’t have long left.”

Nykin picked up his pace, running toward them with Selene hot on his heels. Avelor and Ryneq carried Faelon between them, each with an arm wrapped around his waist. Faelon’s head slumped forward onto his chest, and bobbed a little with each step.

“Ryneq!” Nykin yelled his name, and as soon as they were near enough, added, “Fimor said to hurry, Faelon doesn’t have long.” Nykin’s heart ached at the anguished cry from Avelor, and he couldn’t quite meet his eyes.

Ryneq gestured for Nykin and Selene to grab one of Faelon’s legs each so they could carry him faster.

“Why aren’t you taking him to a healer?” Nykin asked, panting as he struggled to keep his footing on the sand.

“There’s nothing they can do,” Avelor answered. His voice was cracked and raw, and Nykin hoped that whatever they planned would work. He couldn’t imagine how bad it would be for Avelor if Faelon died.

“The witch cast a spell using old dark magic, and Faelon got in its path.” Ryneq explained when it became clear that Avelor didn’t want to. “We’re hoping that old magic can cure it, that’s why we’ve brought him to Fimor.”

“Oh.” Nykin understood why they might think Fimor would be able to help. His magic was strong and hundreds of years old. But from what Nykin understood, Fimor could only heal his bonded rider, not just anyone. He didn’t want to say this out loud, because Avelor looked like he might break down at any moment, and Nykin wasn’t about to make it worse before he had all the facts.

“Fimor? Did you hear all that?”

“Yes, Nykin, I heard.”

Fimor and Kalesh had moved down the beach to meet them, and they were almost there.
“Can you help Faelon? I thought you could only heal me like that?”