Page 24 of The Night Prince 2

“No, I’m not suggesting he had any role in what happened to them. But, Finley, you are very intelligent, but you are being very blind, because of what you want to believe. More than anything,” Rhalyf told him quietly.

“What are you saying?” But the look on Finley’s face–concern and fear–told him that the young man knew what he was intimating very well.

“You need to talk to Declan and then you need to really listen to him. Not hear what you want. But listen,” Rhalyf said.

Part of him wanted to lie to Finley. To distract him from Declan altogether. But if Declan was really as clueless about his true nature as he appeared, he would tell Finley and likely Michael, Shonda and Gemma at some point. If he could keep that declaration to just Finley, just for a while, they could control who found out about Declan. And maybe who found out about him.

Which is bloody no one else.

But even as he thought that, he realized he needed a Plan B. He had always had a Plan B all his life. That’s what had saved him more than once. But this time, he really resented it.

“What do you know about Declan?” Finley asked.

He pinned Finley with a piercing look. “The question really is what do you know.”

Gemma returned to them then, cutting off any more opportunities for conversation on this point, but Rhalyf knew that he had planted a seed. What would it grow into?

Hope And Danger

Finley smelled Hope far before they reached its outskirts and it didn’t smell exactly hopeful. Maybe pungent was a better descriptor. Definitely pungent. With both good and bad smells mixed. The old, familiar scents of bitter exhaust combined with cooking oil, dried spices, and, oddly, popcorn filled Finley’s nostrils. For a moment, if he closed his eyes, he could have imagined that they were back in Lightwell instead of the outskirts of Tyrael and the war had never happened. But, while he ached for all the people who had died, he didn’t miss the mortal world all that much.

The price of magic was high, but the reward was boundless.

When the Aravae had arrived, the stories of high fantasy beings he’d loved had come to life in vivid technicolor. Except it was better than what those authors had ever imagined. To see an elf wandering in a forest glade was to have one’s breath catch in one’s throat at the sheer beauty of it. To touch dwarven craftsmanship was to experience true mastery. To taste fairy wine was to risk madness, but oh, how glorious a madness it was.

And the magic… oh, the magic…

To see fire conjured on an elven palm or lightning streak from a dwarven hammer felt to Finley like he was seeing God. Now the forests, the lakes, the fields and even his own bedroom in Tyrael held magic and the endless possibilities of it. To wield magic was to be divine. That’s how it seemed to him anyways.

And all of humanity’s knowledge had become just a drop in a bucket of what was out there. There was so much more to know and experience. And he wanted to know it all even though that would have been impossible in a single mortal lifetime, even one extended by the Aravae. But he couldn’t imagine not trying.

He opened his eyes and looked around him for signs of that old world. They were becoming awfully faint. The Separatists were fighting a losing battle. Lightwell had been a pleasant suburb of Chicago with lovely and rather expensive homes clinging to the northern edge of Lake Michigan. There had been a prestigious university and a vibrant mix of people from all over the world who had come to study there. Even though he’d only been in high school, he’d tested out of some of the advanced placement classes and had been allowed to audit some of the ones at the university. Not that they had been anything compared to Taranth, of course.

If he glanced over his shoulder back at Tyrael, he would have seen Taranth’s golden towers rising almost as high as the Eryas Palace. His heart thrummed just thinking of them. But it also caused his throat to tighten. What if he failed the test? Worse, what if he passed, but they still wouldn’t let him study?

So he kept his eyes forward and didn’t look back.

The lapping of the lake was to his left. Lake Michigan–or Calicea, as it was called in Katyr–was more an inland sea than a lake. One couldn’t see the other side of it. The Sun hit the waves that were a deep blue like slabs of fluorite. The lake was far cleaner now than it had ever been. He could have actually drunk directly from it without getting sick. The water pumped into their homes from it no longer needed to be treated with chemicals. It was cold and refreshing with a faint taste of minerality.

Fish were abundant too, but though Michael had adored fishing before the war, he did not indulge in that pastime now. For selkies, water sprites, sea serpents and even a kraken had taken up residence in Calicea. Even as his eyes drifted over the foaming waves, he caught sight of a humanoid head poke above the water’s surface. She threw back her long wet hair over her bare shoulder and turned dazzling, glowing blue eyes upon him. A smile alighted upon a sensual mouth, but the teeth that were revealed were pointed and sharp.

“Don’t look at her,” Rhalyf murmured as he hobbled up beside Finley. Gemma was a little ahead of them on the other side of the white stone road, picking flowers. “She’ll lure you in.”

“I know what she is. A selkie. Not a friend,” Finley answered stiffly.

“It only helps to know what they are to avoid their enchantment. It doesn’t completely stop it as you must realize yourself right now. It was hard to pull your gaze away, yes?” Rhalyf asked as he tapped the smooth, level road ahead of them with the cane he had conjured.

Finley swallowed hard. “A bit.”

“Don’t feel bad. Any number of Aravae has wandered into the waves to experience a selkies’ embrace. Unfortunately, its accompanied by the selkies’ teeth at their throat and ends with them sucking the marrow out of elven bones,” Rhalyf sighed.

Finley swallowed again. He thought he heard the selkie splashing in the waves so as to keep up with their progress on the road. She wasn’t giving up trying to lure him in. But then Rhalyf sent a ball of purple plasma towards the water. More enchanted with the magic than he could have ever been with the selkie, Finley watched as the ball struck the water just in front of the selkies’ chest and purple electrical sparks flowed over the lake’s surface. The selkie let out a startled shriek and then dove beneath the waves. Rhalyf chuckled. Finley found himself grinning too. Not that he liked to see things hurt, but it had served the creature right for seeking to lure him in.

What would it be like to hold such power in the palm of my hand? To not be dependent on Rhalyf’s help? According to him, I’ll never know. He internally shook himself. But Declan has magic! Powerful magic! And he’s human so…

But Rhalyf’s earlier words haunted him then. That he wasn’t listening to Declan. That when he saw Declan or heard what he said, he put his own thoughts and feelings into the mix rather than the truth of what Declan was trying to tell him.

But that’s not true! Rhalyf has known Declan less than a day! How can he know my best friend better than I can?