Page 30 of Heart of Shadows

“Suddenly is the wrong word, but yes. Gradually, you’ll develop more of a tip. If your elven blood is strong, from a parent, it’ll be quite pronounced and your magic nice and powerful. If it comes from a little further down the line, a great-grandparent or beyond, perhaps your ears won’t change at all, but you’ll sure be able to feel that magic.”

Harper continued trudging along behind Brand’s unrelentingly straight back, her own shoulders slightly bowed. She did not know quite what to make of Aedon’s fantastical claim, but she could detect no hint of a lie in his words.

“I can teach you, if you’d like,” Aedon offered when she did not reply. “To find and use your magic, I mean. With time and help, you’ll be able to coax it out of hiding—and then strengthen it.”

Harper looked at him quickly, but there was no sign of merriment in his expression. She narrowed her eyes, but her stern expression was a front for the wild storm within her. She spun out of control, and the ground beneath Harper’s feet was her only anchor stopping her cascade into open panic. All of her reality seemed to have unravelled and it had no intention of stopping. How deeply did this run inside her?

He held up his hands in defeat. “Fine, don’t believe me. Humour me, though.”

She could not respond.

“Please?” The sincerity in his eyes was her undoing.

Harper blew out a shaking breath. This was madness. All of it. She would humour him. “Fine. What do you get out of it, though?”

Aedon grinned. “Another elf-blood to keep company with, which will be a nice change from those two misery guts—” He ignored Brand’s rude gesture, “—along with the satisfaction of another member of our merry little band being able to spellcast. It’s really rather handy.”

“Aerians, humans, and dwarves can’t spellcast?”

“No. It’s proven rather divisive in Pelenor, as you might see. Elves and magic rule. The humans fall to the wayside, and the half-breeds are somewhere in between. Magic means status, power, and wealth. It’s just easier to get along here with it.”

Harper frowned. “That doesn’t seem fair.”

“I suppose it’s not, but it is what it is, and no amount of disliking will change it.”

Harper pondered his words as they strode down a rolling hill and the woods gave way to meadows and plains that stretched as far as the eye could see. A river glinted in the distance, and smoke rose from a settlement on the horizon.

“How far is it?” she asked.

“Oh, a few days’ trek yet. Magic can’t fly us there, sadly, and Ragnar is a bit too fat for Brand to carry.”

“I heard that, you cheeky little bugger,” Ragnar called from behind them.

“You were meant to!” Aedon trilled.

Harper stifled a laugh, and her cheeks warmed as he winked at her. They had a strange group here. A friendly, though quiet dwarf, a mischievous elf, and two brooding warriors, all with their own secrets. His offer was overwhelmingly tempting. There were magical beings in all the old tales. If the legends were to be believed, even the elusive Eldarkind, the high elves of Caledan, possessed the skill to perform great magics, though they had disappeared from the land with the dragons. “You’re really going to teach me magic?”

“Yes. Real magic.”

“The Dragonheart also holds magic?”

“Yes, plenty.”

She frowned. It seemed logical. If the stone had brought her here, surely it could take her back. “Is the village you seek on the way to the royal city?”

“I suppose, in a fashion. It’s not direct, but it’s not too much of a detour. Why?”

“I want to see the king and ask him to send me home with the Dragonheart’s magic. If it’s his, he can keep it. I just need the magic to leave.”

Aedon looked at her, an inscrutable, closed expression upon his face. “It’s an impossible task. If you wish to go, you can go, but I think your destiny has summoned you here for a reason, Harper. It’s not every day a Dragonheart crosses into a different land to call someone home.”

“This isn’t my home.”

Aedon was silent for a long moment. “Not yet,” he murmured, then strode ahead to join Brand and Erika, leaving Harper to wonder at his words—and where she belonged.

25

HARPER

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