Chapter 6

Aduil dashed around the corner into the corridor leading the King's chambers. He stopped short as his father, his silvered robes fairly glowing in the warm morning light, stepped out and closed the door behind him. Aduil spared only a moment to straighten his tunic and try to swipe a bit of dirt off of his sleeve before moving on at a more sedate pace as the King raised one straight black eyebrow at him in disapproval. Though Aduil's father could—and, at times, did—boast many fine virtues, patience could not be counted among them.

"Forgive me, father," Aduil said with a shallow bow of his head as he approached. "I did not intend to keep you waiting."

"And still you do," he replied. His eyes darted to Aduil's sleeve before they closed briefly as he asked, "Lindolir?"

Aduil gave a quick nod.

"What has he done now?"

"You… may not wish to know," Aduil hedged. It would likely be better if he did not, and not only for Lindolir's sake.

"And yet, I feel I must," he said with the barest sigh as he turned in the direction of the dining hall.

"It was only a harmless lark, all in good fun," Aduil insisted, falling into step beside his father. "And nothing likely to reflect poorly upon to you. Nor even on Lindolir, I would think, for how skilled he is in such matters."

"Well. He did learn from the best."

"Are you speaking of me, or yourself?" Aduil asked.

Though neither Lindolir nor Aduil had ever enjoyed the privilege of seeing their father behave in such an unseemly manner, both had adored listening to their mother weave the tales of the wild days of his youth, nearly as much as she had delighted in the telling, quite to her husband's chagrin. Aduil had always secretly thought that had been her favorite part.

A faint smile was his father's only response before he swiftly changed the subject. "Two days have passed since the prisoner awoke. Tell me, what have you learned?"

"Little, I fear. Her words are strange to my ear, and she seems not to know any other tongue. I have begun to teach her ours, though it is no simple feat."

"No, I did not imagine it would be, which is why it was tasked to you."

Aduil dropped his gaze. "I am trying, father," he quietly insisted. "I will find the answers we seek."

The King only nodded to that. "And what of the book? Have you learned any more from it?"

"No," Aduil lied, for he was not prepared to share the book-mark just yet, not even with his father. If Lindolir would be frightened at the sight, their father would be enraged, and that would not bode well for Kate. "I have consulted with Master Norelin, as well as Master Pedharil, and neither bear any knowledge of runes such a those."

"Hmm. And yet I just might…" the King murmured.

"Truly?"

"Yes, I believe I have seen those runes before, though I cannot seem to recall precisely where…" He gave his head a slight shake. "It will come to me. Now, what of the creature itself? Is it yet able to move under its own power?"

"Yes, whatever force struck her down seems to have vanished entirely, without lingering ailments. I escorted her to the lesser bower last eventide, and she fared quite well." Until she had begun to weep, that is. Aduil had not enjoyed that. He had not known what to do and that was unnerving for an elf in his position. More than that, he had misliked seeing Kate so overwrought.

He pushed the thought aside as his father raised a brow at him.

"Did you?"

"Why should I not? She had done no harm."

"Nor should you grant it opportunity to do so. You risk yourself needlessly."

Aduil suppressed an eyeroll, though it was a near thing. "I was not alone. Beletir and Celeden remained close at hand. Though, even had they not, do you truly believe me so unskilled as to be unable to defend myself against such a wisp of a… whatever she is?"

"We know not what forces it may command. I will not have you chance your safety."

"Yet kindness may speak where cruelty stifles," Aduil countered. "If I am to learn more of this creature, would it not behoove me to build a trust?"

"Point," the king conceded. "Still. It remains a danger. I would have you continue to ensure there are guards at hand for any future forays, should you require assistance."

Aduil nodded and they walked on in silence for a time before his father spoke again.

"I believe it is time I met this creature. See it brought before me at midmorning's mark."

Aduil opened his mouth to protest but swiftly closed it again when he could find no cause to do so, save for a strange trepidation which spoke of ill tidings should the meeting take place. Yet his father only wanted to see Kate, what harm could come of that? And so, he simply nodded once more and acquiesced, "As you wish, father."

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There is a special place, soft and warm and safe, where yesterday, today and tomorrow can't reach, where everything is just calm and clear. It's that space just between sleeping and waking where nothing matters and everything's okay, and if Kate could live there, she would. But, try as she might, she'd never been able to make it last more than a few moments before the world came crashing in, and that morning was no different.

She burrowed deeper under the covers, seeing little point in getting up, at least until her bladder gave her a reason.

She was making her slow, trudging way back to bed when a movement near the table caught her eye. Flapping furiously at the window, as if desperate to get in, was a butterfly, small and vibrant blue with an edging like black lace around its wings.

"What are you doing, little one?" she muttered, heading over for a better look, "You can probably go home."

The butterfly of course, didn't answer.

A blue butterfly. Kate vaguely recalled reading a magazine article somewhere about the signs and portents of various animals. The butterfly, if she remembered right, was supposed to be a signal of change, and blue specifically was a change of luck, a change for the better.

"Is that why you're here?" Her spirits lifted a bit at the idea.

The butterfly fluttered away, and Kate sighed. She'd never been a big believer in signs anyway.

She dropped herself back to into the bed, curled up and dragged the blankets over her head.

What would she do if she couldn't find a way home?

What were her options, really? She couldn't just assume the elves would put her up forever. She would have to… what? Find a town, a job? What would she even do? Somehow, she doubted that her experience at the gas station would transfer to any occupation in this world. She didn't like her chances of survival if she was stuck here, alone.

She heaved another heavy sigh.

If only none of this had happened.

If only she'd never opened that stupid book—because it had to be connected somehow—this never would have happened. If she'd only set her alarm to the right damn time, she never would have needed to call a cab, she never would have opened the book, and she never would have ended up in Taleria, and everything would be okay.

If only, if only, if only…

It was a stupid, pointless thought, and solved nothing. And yet, it did bring to mind one of her favorite passages in the third book of the Talerian Chronicles.

It was in one of the darkest chapters, when Jex had just found his home destroyed, the quest was failing, darkness spreading, and all hope seemed lost. He had sat on the trunk of a fallen tree, clutching a charred ragdoll to his chest, looking out with glazed eyes across the smoldering remains of his village, when the ageless mage Elwan had sat next to him to try to offer some comfort.

"It's my fault," Jex whispered past the lump in his throat. "They're dead because of me. If only I had never found that cursed amulet, if only I had never undertaken this foolish quest, they would still live."

"'If only' is a perilous path to tread, my friend," Elwan said, "it pulls at the heart but offers only illusions. Focus instead on what is, and what may yet be done, for that is where true hope lies."

Kate's situation was a hell of a lot less dire than Jex's, and unlike him, she could actually do something to change it. She didn't know exactly what, but she could figure it out.

Probably.

Maybe.

But one thing was certain—wallowing wouldn't get her anywhere.

Suck it up, buttercup.

With a decisive nod, she climbed from the bed and made her way to the table where breakfast had been laid out some time ago. The porridge had grown cold, but it was still good, especially with a generous helping of berries and a sprinkling of sugar on top, and she considered while she ate.

You want to know where you're going, you've gotta know where you've been, so start from the beginning, she decided, what do you know?

All she really remembered from before she woke up in the forest was that strange force that had knocked her around before plunging her into the cold dark. It had to be some kind of magic—which was insane because magic wasn't supposed to be real, but clearly it was, so there was no point in arguing it.

So. Magic. If magic brought her there, it could get her home. And that was a super helpful, because Kate didn't know the first thing about magic. Well, that wasn't entirely true. She was a fantasy nerd, and those stories were chock full of magic, but how do you sort fact from fiction when you've gone your entire life thinking it was all fiction?

The elves could probably help with that; they were supposed to be the wisest beings in all of Taleria, after all. Well, aside from a few ancient mages, like Elwan, but as she hadn't seen any of them around, elves it was. All she had to do was keep learning the language until she could ask someone for help and go from there.

Okay, so maybe it wasn't much of a plan, but it was a plan, and it would do for now.

A tentative knock sounded on the door just as Kate emptied her bowl. Before she could swallow her last mouthful and answer, Aduil peeked his head in. She thought she saw a flicker of concern as he glanced around before he found her at the table, but it was gone too quick to be sure, replaced by a smile as he came in the rest of the way and gently closed the door behind him.

"Maedh bollo, Kate. Vui daute fae sed bollo?" he greeted, crossing to join her at the table. He paused, then added, "You… well?"

"You are well. Or, actually, it should be, are you well, if it's a question. And, uh, yes. I'm fine. Um. Maedh min. Annonte," she babbled, trying to ignore the rising flush at the reminder of how she'd lost it the night before. Not her finest moment. Not that it was unwarranted, but still, not something she was proud of.

Aduil watched her lips carefully as she spoke, smiling again when she switched languages.

"Inem maedh," he reminded her, then his smile faded as he added, "You… come…me…"

She waited for him to sort out the words until he gave it up with a frustrated huff.

"In wae uvanem pedh, acurdau te," he said, then glanced away and muttered, "Sed iras guil maedh," with a slight shake of his head, before standing and sweeping out a hand to the door.

"Kate, you come me?"

"Will you come with me," she said, rising with a shrug. "Sure, I guess, but why? What about the language lessons?"

He tilted his head and furrowed his brow in an expression that was becoming very familiar, so she explained by pointing to various objects around the room and naming them in elvish as he had that first day and said, "Language?"

"Ae. You come…" he started, miming his fingers walking out the door, paused, then had them walk back and finished, "…lang widge."

"When we get back, then. Alright." That still didn't answer the why of it, but she supposed she'd find out when they got to wherever they were going.

The guards fell into step behind her again as they headed in the opposite direction from the day before—so not going back to the garden then—but the direction wasn't the only difference. Something about Aduil seemed… off, somehow. He didn't say a word to her, not that he'd been a chatterbox the last time they'd walked the halls, but this time he didn't even look at her, just walked a few steps ahead, stiff and formal.

Maybe she was just reading into things. It wasn't like she knew him, after all.

Still, it was disconcerting, and she tried to ignore it, focusing instead on the art and architecture they passed, but the further they went, the more Kate felt like a kid being led to the principal's office, and not for an award. Not that she'd ever gotten one of those, but that was beside the point. That anxious knot was growing again, twisting at her insides as she twisted at the hem of her shirt, and it was for that reason she almost didn't notice the change. In fact, if she hadn't been staring at her feet as they walked, she might not have, but as they turned a corner, she saw it, and stopped in her tracks, staring in wonder.

It was a stream. The entire hallway floor was a glass covered stream, and there were even tiny fish darting about, and rocks at the edges with vegetation and… and was that a frog?

"What?" Kate laughed, turning to Aduil. "You have a stream for a floor! Who does that? That is so cool!"

Aduil only nodded with a tight-lipped smile before heading off again.

Party pooper.

Whatever, it was still amazing. And just a bit frustrating because she didn't have enough words yet to ask all the questions fighting for dominance in her head, like, how did they keep the glass from getting all scuffed up? Well, the soft, moccasin-like boots they all seemed to wear probably had something to do with it. But why didn't it fog up? And did the stream traverse the entire palace, or just cut through a small section, and did it stay a stream the whole time, or did it join a river somewhere? What about the fish? Were they trapped under there? How did they get food? And what did it do to the structural integrity of the building?

Most importantly, how strong was that glass?

Kate slowed her steps at that thought, wary of falling—and with her track record lately, that was more likely than she cared to admit—because that just seemed like a good way to get shards of glass and a fish up your ass.

They didn't go much farther before Aduil stopped them in front of a massive, ornately carved door set with images of what looked like some kind of celebration in a forest glade. He said something to one of the guards stationed there, who bowed her head, opened the door and slipped inside.

Kate busied herself watching the stream beneath her feet as they waited, trying again to ignore the increasingly tense elf in front of her. What was beyond that door that had him so worried?

She didn't have to wait long to find out as the guard came back a minute later with a few soft words and another shallow bow for Aduil as she held the door open wide. He gave her a brief word of thanks before leading Kate and her shadows inside.

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Translations

"Maedh bollo, Kate. Vui daute fae sed bollo?" - "Good Morning, Kate. How do you fare this morning?"

Maedh min. Annonte," - Well me. Thank you,"

"Inem maedh," - I am well,

"In wae uvanem pedh, acurdau te," - "I have not the words, and nor do you,"

"Sed iras guil maedh," - "This will go well,"