Chapter 16

"Time…travel?" Aduil asked with a slow shake of his head.

"Yeah, it's just what it sounds like. You stay in one place, but you jump to a different time, moving years ahead to the future, or back to the past."

He frowned. "Do you mean to say that you come not only from a different world," he said slowly, "but a different time as well?"

"Oh, no," Kate said with a little laugh. "I mean, I don't think so. Though, there are some fan theories… But that's not the point, because no matter when I'm from, I still have knowledge of future events, so the first rule of time travel still applies. Namely, don't change anything. Because even the smallest change can have the biggest effect, something you might never see coming. Something you might never want to see."

"How do you mean?"

Kate paused, tapping a finger on her glass as she thought it over. The obvious answer was in the book, of course, in what Aduil wanted to change, but that might give too much away. The less he knew, the better.

"There's an old proverb in my world," she said at last. "For want of a nail, a shoe was lost. For want of a shoe, a horse was lost. For want of a horse, a rider was lost. For want of a rider, a battle was lost. For want of a battle, a war was lost. For want of a war, a kingdom was lost. And all for want of a little horseshoe nail." She waited until Aduil's thoughtful gaze fell to the book in his hands before she continued.

"Do you understand? You could follow the book to the letter, go exactly where Lindolir is to go, fight every battle he is to fight, talk to everyone he will, but how can you be sure you will stand in the exact same spot, look in the exact same direction at the exact same time to dodge an enemy blade? Can you imbue your words with the same lighthearted joy or passionate certainty, right when it's needed most, just from memorizing them from a book? Because all it takes it one misstep, and suddenly you've knocked loose 'a little horseshoe nail', and all is lost."

Kate paused again to let the words sink in and watched as they landed, settling over Aduil like a heavy cloak, his shoulders sagging under the weight. Ignoring a prickle of guilt at the sight, she leaned forward, set to drive the point home, when he looked up.

"Then join me," he said.

"What?"

"You know this story well, do you not?" he asked, gesturing with the book. "You know that which must be and that which must not, beyond this book and into the others. So you will join me, we will see it done together. You can see us past any 'horseshoe nails', and all will be well." He grinned.

Kate opened her mouth to respond, but closed it again when nothing came out.

It was tempting. It was so tempting. How many fans had dreamed of this very opportunity, to travel Taleria, to see great sights, to do great deeds, to save the world? And more, to go with Aduil by her side? It was a dream come true. Better even, considering her dreams lately.

But that was part of the problem, wasn't it?

"I can't," she said at last. "I've stayed here too long already. And it wouldn't work anyway, because I don't know all the 'horseshoe nails', the books aren't that detailed, and even if they were, my memory's not that great. Besides, the amulet won't even turn up for another century or two. I won't live long enough."

Aduil's grin had held fast as she spoke, even turned knowing as if he was ready with a counter argument, but fell completely with those last words.

"Are you ill?" he asked.

"N—no, Aduil. I'm mortal," she said softly. "Human, remember? We don't tend to live past a hundred, if that, and I'm already twenty-three. I'm really not likely to make it."

"Ae," he whispered with a slow nod, gaze drifting back to the book. "Of course."

"So…so you get it now, right?" she asked, in a quiet, cautious tone. "Why you can't tell anyone, why it has to be Lindolir?"

There was a short hesitation, then another small nod.

"Tell me he will return," he said, meeting her eyes again, and this time there was something hard there, something she hadn't seen from him since her earliest days in Taleria. "Can you do that? Can you swear to me he will return home?"

"Oh, yeah, of course. I'm sorry, I should have led with that. He'll be fine. He—he'll be different," she added hesitantly, then hurried to continue, "but not in a bad way. I mean, I won't lie, it won't all be sunshine and rainbows, he's going to see some pretty nasty stuff, and some heavy losses, but he's also going to see the world, Aduil, and learn things the Meadowood just can't teach. In the end though, he will come home, and he'll be okay. As long as we don't do anything to mess it up."

While it didn't take long for Aduil to come to a decision, it was long enough for Kate to decide that 'assessing stare' was definitely a family trait. Though, somehow it wasn't quite so disconcerting coming from Aduil as it had been from his father and brother. It probably helped that she wasn't trying to hide anything this time.

"Then I will ask no more, and I will hold your secret safe," he promised as he moved to hand Kate the book. "Yet, for all that I now understand why you felt a need to lie about this, I do not understand why you share the truth now. Is it not far more simple, and indeed safe, to keep this knowledge only for yourself?"

"It would be," she agreed, setting the book on the table. "But I need to go home, and I need your help to do it."

When Aduil didn't respond, she took it as her cue to continue.

"See, I wasn't going to tell you about the book, at least not after we started reading the journal, because I thought that would be my ticket home. Because the author came to Taleria the exact same way I did, with that weird force, the darkness, the paralysis, everything, so I thought I could just follow whatever he did to get home, but—Aduil? Are you listening?" He seemed to be looking through her.

He blinked. "Yes, of course." He cleared his throat. "The journal. You thought to use…do you mean to say that the author came from your world?"

Right. Of course, he wouldn't know that, because Kate had been very careful to explain away any mentions of modern life in the journal. It wasn't even that hard. With the dull life the author had led before Taleria, the worst Kate had had to cover for was a bus, which she had brushed off as slang for a public carriage.

"Yeah, as far as I can tell."

"Then that magic truly was not your doing."

"What? What magic?"

"You came to the forest shrouded in some sort of dark magic. You do not remember?"

She just shook her head. When Aduil went on to explain what he'd been told of the force that brought her to Taleria, that it was like lightning in reverse, a thunderbolt made of darkness so profound it seemed to suck all light from the sky, Kate's blood ran cold. She'd been working under the assumption that it had been some kind of accident, like distractedly walking into an open manhole and waking up in the land of the mole people. But what Aduil described just sounded… evil.

"You truly have no memory of this?"

"No…" Kate wrapped her arms around herself against the sudden chill. "But you know what it was, right? You've seen it before? Or heard stories or something?"

His expression said it all and Kate could almost hear the low growl of a massive door swinging shut on her last hope. She stood abruptly, shivering now, and stormed across the room.

"Are you alright?"

"Nope." She shook her head again, stopping in front of the wardrobe. She flung it open. "No, I'm really not. What the hell was that Aduil? Why did it come after me, and do this? This is your world, this is magic, you were supposed to know." She tore the cloak off its hook and pulled it around her shoulders, fumbling with the clasp.

"Peace, Kate." She started when his voice came from right in front of her—need to put a bell on him—and looked up to see him gesturing at the stubborn clasp. "May I?"

She dropped her hands and let him work on the mangled mess she'd made of it. It was a pin; it really shouldn't be that hard, but somehow, she'd managed to jam it through several thick wads of scrunched fabric and twist it entirely out of shape.

"Whatever did this to you, it is gone now," he soothed as he worked, "and it cannot harm you."

His deft fingers paused in their work as he glanced up from the clasp. "Even should it return, it will not get a glance at you, not while I still stand. I swear it," he added, and the chill seemed to melt just a bit at the warm sincerity of the words, even as Kate's stomach did a little flip. Looking back to the pin, he went on, "And while I have not the answers we seek, I may know one who does. Ae, it is done." He gave the cloak a little tug, so it hung more comfortably, then stepped back with a small smile.

"You do?"

Aduil nodded.

"Well, don't keep me in suspense, who is it? And please don't say your father." That was a complication she didn't need.

"No." Aduil chuckled. "He is another ruler of my people, the Lord Altharion of Cirbaninn."

"Alth—Of Course!" She slapped her forehead. "Why didn't I think of that?"

"What are you—"

"Oh, Aduil, you're brilliant! Because Altharion's one of the Guardians of Taleria, he's on the Council of Light, and if this has happened before, which the journal proves, he would know about it." She paced past him, mind whirring with all the new possibilities. "And even on the off chance he doesn't, he's got the connections to know someone who does, or he might have seen something in one of his Farseer visions or—what's wrong?" It was only when she turned to pace back that she saw the concern etched across his features.

"Are you alright? Why did you harm yourself?"

"Harm mys—?" Her eyes crossed as she followed his gaze up to her forehead. "Oh, that, uh, a cultural thing, I guess? Don't worry about it, I'm fine." Better, even, now she had a plan in her pocket. Or the makings of one at least, but that was more than she'd had a few seconds ago.

Aduil still looked dubious. "Are you certain?"

She laughed. "Yeah, I'm good. Could use some air though, now that's all settled." And had been settled so much easier than she'd expected. Aduil understood, he wasn't angry with her, and he even seemed willing to help. Kate was thrumming with energy, like an arrow held back too long, and now she had a target, all she wanted to do was fly. Getting out of the room would do for now, though. "What do you say to a walk?"

"Yes, I believe I have learned enough to satisfy my duties," he readily agreed, as she knew he would. They hadn't been idle long, but Aduil was always ready to move. "And should there be anything I have forgotten, we will simply discuss it as we go." That said, they headed out.

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If Aduil had given any indication that he was still upset with Kate for her lies, she might have been a wee bit wary when he led her out of the palace rather than back to the garden or library. As it was though, he seemed in good spirits, and Kate was just happy to have somewhere to put her newfound energy.

They didn't come out of the same grand entrance she'd seen that first day, however long ago that was, just a simple door, opening onto a cut-stone staircase which turned off at a sharp angle before meeting a well-worn path that disappeared between the towering trees only a few yards away.

Kate waited at the bottom of the staircase and pulled her cloak tighter against the chill breeze as she glanced back at Aduil where he stood near the door, discussing something in hushed tones with Beletir and… the other guard. What was his name? She was sure she'd heard it at some point. She made a note to ask Aduil about it later. It was just rude to keep referring to him as 'the other one', especially on the off chance she needed to get his attention. Then again, once she figured out how to get to Havenvale, she doubted she'd be seeing him again, so it really wouldn't matter.

That was, of course, assuming she could get there at all. If she asked Aduil, she was pretty sure he would help her out with a map and some supplies at the very least. And if she asked nicely enough, he'd probably even show her how to read the map, which would be useful.

A weapon wouldn't be wasted either. If she had her timeline right, the roads wouldn't yet be peppered with goblins, trolls and other nasties drawn by the calls of the demon's manifestations, but that didn't mean it was entirely safe. If she could snag a horse, she could probably just run away from whatever trouble she found, even if they had mounts of their own—no mortal bred horse could match speed, strength or endurance with an elven steed. As long as she didn't come across any Memurs—those feisty felines were fast—she could probably outrun any threat. Still, she'd feel better with a weapon.

Kate couldn't fire a bow or swing a sword with any sort of accuracy, but maybe the elves had something like Escrima sticks. She was hardly a master of the baton-like weapons, but she'd been training at the school of youtube for a year or so, and was fairly confident she could hold her own. Long enough to incapacitate and run, anyway.

Maybe it was the thought of weapons, or maybe it was the way the morning sun glinted off the polished metal, but Kate couldn't help but notice the shiny new blades strapped to Aduil's back when he rejoined her. Those had not been there before.

"Expecting trouble?" She nodded to the weapons when Aduil only cocked his head.

"Ae. No, I simply grow weary of being followed, and agreeing to continue armed was the only way to rid us of our… what did you call them? Our shadows," Aduil explained, before adding a rueful, "still, I doubt they will allow us to wander far from their hearing."

Kate and Aduil had reached the treeline as they spoke and, sure enough, when she glanced over her shoulder, the guards, who she had last seen at the door, had stationed themselves just beyond the stairs and were doing a decent job of pretending they weren't following.

"Well, they're looking out for your safety, I can't fault them for that," Kate conceded before drawing herself up to her full height and raising her chin. "Especially since we all know what a great and terrible threat I am. Why, I could snap you in half, just like that." She snapped her fingers.

Aduil laughed. "Oh, yes! Please, do not hurt me!" He threw his hands out as if to ward off a blow. "Please, I beg you, spare my life!"

"Well, I guess I'll let you go this time." She sniffed imperiously, but couldn't help a grin. "Since you asked so nicely."

"I am forever in your debt, my lady." He affected a deep, overly dramatic bow, while simultaneously hopping over a log that had fallen partway onto the path without so much as a stumble, and Kate had to laugh. It wasn't too long ago that such a display of effortless grace would have left her jealously irritated. Now she just found it endearing. She was going to miss that.

She was going to miss him.

Still, it was good to laugh together again. It had been a rollercoaster of a morning, but in that moment, with easy laughter filling the air, it felt like the worst was behind them. Her conscience was clear, she had a path home, and as much as it might hurt to say goodbye, they would part as friends, and that was better than she had dared hope for.

They traveled down the twisting, leaf strewn path in comfortable silence for a time, each content in their own thoughts. Well, it wasn't quite silent, at least not on Kate's side of the path, as she snapped and crackled every through leaf and twig she came across—and if there'd been a way to 'pop' something, she'd probably have done that too—while Aduil, like his brother when he'd brought her to the palace, walked so lightly, he barely left a footprint. Funny, it didn't bother now her as it had back then, didn't make her feel like a slow, clumsy burden. Must be the company.

"Tell me of your world," Aduil asked after a while. "Is it anything like this?"

"In some ways it is," she started. She bent to scoop up a small stick and turned it in her hands as she thought. "We have a lot of the same type of places as you do; great forests, full of old growth trees, though those are becoming rare. And we have deserts and mountains and oceans and beaches, but there are a lot of things you don't have, too. Like, there are some places where it's always winter, and others where it's always summer. And there are places where the sun only rises for a few hours a day in the winter before it sets again, and others where it never seems to set completely in the summer. And there's no magic in my world, but if you go to this place called Alaska, or to Northern Canada, you'd almost swear there was because if you look up at the night sky in those places, sometimes you can see brilliant ribbons of colored light, and they say if you whistle, you can make them dance."

Kate breathed a wistful sigh, letting the image of rippling lights fade from her eyes, and glanced to Aduil instead. He was watching her with that soft smile again, the one that made her feel like a middle school kid with her first crush, and she quickly looked away.

"Anyway, I've, um, I've never seen any of that for myself, just pictures," she said, twisting her stick. "I've always wanted to, though."

"Why do you not?"

"Because none of that is anywhere near where I live," she said wryly. "And traveling isn't free. At least, not if you want to eat, and sleep somewhere safe. But I don't know, maybe someday…" She trailed off with a shrug.

"And what of the view from your home?"

"Oh, that's very different. I live in a city, where there are all sorts of buildings, all crammed together, going on for miles and miles, leaving little room for nature. And it's bright, at all hours of the day, so much so that it blocks out the stars. And it's cramped and loud and busy, and there are always people around, wherever you go, but there's always something to do, something new to see. There's art and music and all kinds of performances, and there's always something open at any time of night and there's always somewhere to go or someone to call if you need help."

"It sounds… complicated." Aduil said.

"That's a pretty good word for it, yeah."

"You miss it," he observed.

"I do." She nodded. "Some of it anyway."

He fell quiet for a few steps before he asked, "Someone waits for you there?"

"My friend Aurora, I suppose," she said with a shrug. "And my mom, of course. But that's pretty much it. I don't really have any other family. Well, none who would notice my absence, anyway."

"You…" he paused. "You do not have a father? Was he lost in battle?"

"Ha, no. I mean, I don't think so. Then again, for all I know…" she trailed off, shaking her head. "But he left, when I was little."

"Was he charged with a perilous quest?"

"Nope, he just left. Couldn't handle being a parent, I guess," she added with a practiced indifference. Aduil looked mystified, like it was such a foreign concept, he just couldn't wrap his head around it. "Elves don't do that, huh."

"No, I…I cannot imagine how anyone could."

"Well, you're lucky then," she muttered, picking at the bark of her stick. Maybe that was why she'd always been so enamored of elves in the stories—they were better than humans, they were noble and courageous and protective of their own. An elf would never abandon his family.

"You miss him," Aduil ventured.

Kate shrugged. "How can you miss something you've never had? I don't have any memories of him. He left when I was still a baby, and my mom would never talk about him except to say we were better off," she paused before adding, with a small smile, "But I used to pretend, when I was little, I used to imagine what it would be like if he had stayed. How he would make us pancakes for breakfast on Sunday mornings, and take us for cookouts and picnics. And how he'd always be there if I was hurt or scared, to make it all better, to scare away all the scary things in the world."

She pulled a sliver of bark from the stick and rolled it between her fingers. "I know it's stupid, but I was a kid, you know?"

It was a lame defense, and Kate knew it. She studiously examined her stick, silently kicking herself for oversharing. She should have just kept her mouth shut or changed the subject or something.

It was Aduil's fault, she decided. Something about him put her at ease, and stuff just slipped out. It didn't make her feel any better about it, though, because she knew exactly what would happen next, what always happened no matter who she was talking to. First there would be an awkward silence—check. Then would come some inane platitude of half-hearted comfort, followed swiftly by a new topic. Kate knew the script well, and it never changed, because how could it? What else was there to say, really?

"I think I understand," he said at last, staring off into the middle distance as they walked. "I lost my mother in days long past, and still I miss her everyday. I think of her often and some nights, I—well, I imagine that I speak with her. I tell her of my day, of the things I have seen and done, of my hopes and my fears. I share my life with her as I would were she still here. And there are times I could all but swear I hear her answer back, though I know it can not be." He paused and looked to Kate with a gentle affection. "I think it a kindness to allow yourself the comfort of such thoughts. There is no shame in it."

She shot him a grateful smile. "What was she like?" she asked. "If you don't mind my asking."

"Not at all. In truth, I welcome it. I—we do not speak of her often. It is not forbidden so much as it is understood. My father…" He trailed off, his expression seeming to cloud over before he shook it away. "But she was wonderful. Never have I known one so kind. She was not born to rule as my father was, though you would not know it for how she cared for our people. 'To rule is to serve,' she said, and never did she fail to suit deed to word. It was her duty as queen, but her joy as well. She did all she could for our people, and though it took her from Lindolir and I at times, never did we suffer her absence when we had need of her."

"She sounds awesome. I think I would've liked her," Kate mused.

"I think she would have liked you as well," Aduil agreed. "I think you would make her laugh."

"Yeah?"

"Oh, yes! And she had the most wonderful laugh. Neither frown nor foul mood could stand long against the joy of it. There was little I would not do to bring it out in her." He chuckled. "Once, I had a terrible idea to liven the long, dull speeches at the Beleriel's Day feast. I gained Lindolir's help, and together we—" His head snapped to the side at a sound from the bushes, and in one quick, fluid motion, he drew one of his blades. He swept Kate behind him with one arm just as a small streak of grey fur leapt free of cover and dashed across the path, gone as quick as it had come.

It was a rabbit.

Kate sputtered a laugh as she watched the little fluffy tail disappear into the bracken. "I thought you said we were safe here—that thing could have torn us to shreds!"

Aduil only smiled and raised his blade. "That is what the sword is for. Though perhaps you should hold the other, that you may defend yourself should the next rabbit overtake me."

She laughed again. "Yeah, and watch me cut my own arm off," she said. "I don't know how to use a sword."

"Then I shall teach you," he said simply.

"Really?" He nodded. "Sweet! Let's do it!"

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Aduil led the way to a small glade just off the path before he handed her one of his swords. It was lighter than she'd expected, more like a plastic kid's toy than a weapon of war, but the softly curved blade was deadly sharp—which Aduil demonstrated by tossing a pinecone in the air and slicing it in half before it could fall.

"Show off," Kate scoffed. Of course, then she'd had to explain what a show-off was, and it kind of ruined the joke.

The lesson started out simply enough—stance, footing, proper grip, and how to fall without taking damage. Well, less damage than an enemy weapon would do, anyway. Kate took to it all pretty well, except for the falling bit oddly enough, but eventually, Aduil declared her 'good enough for now', and moved on to proper forms. He moved a safe distance from Kate and slowly swung his sword this way and that, naming each move and explaining the dynamics behind them as Kate watched carefully and followed along.

Soon enough, he sheathed his sword and stood back to observe Kate practice, calling out adjustments and encouragements as she moved through the forms. She might never be able to match the swift, fluid movements of an elf, but she hadn't hurt herself or anyone else yet, so she was doing pretty good. Still, it was harder work than she'd imagined, even with the sleek elven blade, and it wasn't long before she was sweating, arms beginning to burn from the strain.

Kate paused and let her arms drop to her side as she caught her breath.

"Have you had enough?"

"Not nearly. Just a little warm, is all." She unclasped her cloak with her free hand and let it fall to the ground behind her. "But I think I've got these moves down. What's next?"

Aduil nodded. "I think you are right. You learn quickly." He looked impressed, and Kate felt a warm little wave of pride wash over her. He cocked his head to the side in thought before asking, "Shall we put it to the test?" He pulled his sword and moved into a defensive stance.

"Wait, you want me to fight you? I don't think I'm ready for that."

He lowered his blade. "You need not fear, Kate, I will not harm you."

She shook her head, backing away a few steps. "It's not me I'm worried about. What if I slip and stab you?"

"Ae. You cannot," he said, with a smile that was just a bit too condescending for Kat's taste.

When she only narrowed her eyes in response, he rolled his and sheathed his sword.

"I will prove it." He glanced around before loping to the far edge of the clearing and returning with a sizable stick. He held it out. "Here, take this and strike at me, as hard and fast as you are able."

Hmm. Well, that she could do. Taking the stick, she moved away to set her sword under a tree where she wouldn't trip on it and casually strolled back to Aduil, whistling in innocence. He watched with a bemused expression and turned with her as she circled behind him until she called out, "Eat wood, you smug bastard!" and attacked.

Aiming for his midsection, she swung hard, but caught only air as he laughed and danced out of reach. She tried again, and again, making good use of all the moves she'd been practicing, but he effortlessly dodged every blow, moving so fast he appeared as little more than a blur of motion.

"Do you see?" he asked, sounding for all the world like he was relaxing on a beach rather than ducking and dodging a flurry of attacks. "You cannot harm me."

"Okay, I give." She panted, letting her stick arm fall. "You're too fast. But I—Aduil!" she cried, looking past him, and he spun at the warning before she could even point.

As soon his back was turned, she smacked his ass with the stick. She grinned as he whirled around again with a gasp, reaching back to cover his rear.

"What—?"

She quirked an eyebrow. "You were saying?"

Aduil blinked a few times before shock gave way to a slow, admiring smile. "Always you surprise me," he murmured, then sketched a light bow. "Your point is taken, yet mine still stands. So long as you do not do that with a blade in your hand, you will not harm me."

Well, she couldn't deny that. Besides, it wasn't like she wanted to hurt him. "But I don't understand why we don't just use sticks instead of swords. It's a lot safer, either way."

"It is," he agreed, "however in true battle, the enemy will not strike with a stick. If you are unused to the sight of a sword at your throat, you may panic at the first and there will not be a second."

Kate refrained from pointing out that she'd already had a sword at her throat, because she had kind of panicked, and she couldn't count on Aduil always being there to diffuse the situation.

She still didn't like the idea, but she had no idea how long she would be stuck in this world and there was no telling what she might face. And a sword was a lot more effective than Escrima sticks, even if she could get them. She would be a fool to pass up whatever training she could get.

Aduil picked her borrowed sword from the ground where she'd left it and exchanged it for her stick, which he tossed over his shoulder. He drew his own sword. "Are you ready?"

She matched his stance with a determined nod.

He struck slowly at first, giving her plenty of time to counter, and each time she did, he switched up his attacks, gradually gaining speed until she stopped thinking and started reacting and the air was filled with the metallic clang of clashing swords.

Kate grinned when she saw an opening, something she thought might disarm him if she could just twist her sword right and was about to go for it, when something whizzed past her head, so close she felt the sting of it brush her face. She scrambled back, hand shooting to her cheek as she turned to see what the hell that was, then froze, staring down the shaft of a second arrow, the tip hovering inches from her nose.

"Doren, doren!" Aduil yelled, knocking the arrow aside as he leapt between Kate and the guard, arms spread wide. "Neir tif uvrach!"