to know more about myself, but now I’m not sure I’m ready.
“I feel it too. Do you remember when we were in the cave and I died?”
Ardeth looks sorrowful at this retelling, and the twins’ faces are dark as they shift their weight from foot to foot as if they could stop what happened. With a pang in my chest, I nod, vividly remembering how it felt.
“Yes, but you didn’t die, I felt your heartbeat.” My voice breaks, we both know how close I was to losing him forever, that I was almost too late to save him.
“I did die,” he states firmly, and I avoid his eyes, “but you grabbed our ‘link’ and yanked me back. I would have died if you hadn’t done that.”
I can feel all their eyes on me, their feelings and expectations. It’s too much.
“Okay?” Flustered, I shrug, confused by where this conversation is going.
“Clarissa. Alina,” he calls, and I meet his gaze. I couldn’t not even if I wanted to, but like a fish caught on a hook, I can’t help but be pulled to him. “The only way you could have done that was if we were bonded.” He pauses after that revelation, as if expecting it to have some great meaning, but I have no idea what he’s trying to get at. He just said we share this bond, is being ‘bonded’ something different?
Everyone stays quiet as they wait for my reaction. “What does that mean?” My frustration is evident as I practically growl out the question.
Ardeth clears his throat, pulling my gaze to him. He smiles at me sympathetically, sensing my confusion and rising anger. “In our culture, two souls can be bonded, linked together. It means you are fated, no matter where the other person is, you will always find them.”
“They can’t be bonded, she’s a human,” Eldrin bites out, taking an angry step forward.
Turning, I glare at him. “What is your problem?” I query, throwing my hands up in the air.
“Exactly!” Vaeril shouts at the same time.
Making a noise of irritation, all eyes fall on me again. “Will someone just tell me what you’re talking about? Stop speaking in circles!” The demand is clear. I’ve heard that elves are tricky and like to talk in riddles, never giving you a full answer, but I won’t have it, not from Vaeril.
Ardeth is the one who takes pity on me, reaching out and placing a hand on my shoulder as he explains, “Clarissa, there is no way a human could bond with an elf, meaning you’re not human, or at least not fully.”
“I’m part elf?” Gasping, I look around, but I’m not really seeing anything. My heart pounds in my ears, sounds muffled. Someone places a hand on my shoulder and leads me forward. Blinking a couple of times, I see they’re taking me to one of the wooden chairs situated around the desk.
“It would explain how you survived twelve years of slavery, how you survived those beatings when no one else could. You are stronger than a normal human, not to mention your gifts.” Vaeril kneels in front of me, his gaze running over my face, and I see a flash of concern in his eyes. Gifts. I know he’s talking about my ability to sense magic and break spells. I had always felt different than everyone else, but as a slave, it was like I was sleepwalking, only semi-aware of everything going on. Then Grayson appeared and woke me up and the Mother blessed me, making me different again.
“I don’t remember who my parents were, I was just an orphan.” Looking up at Ardeth for answers, my voice is soft, inquisitive. “If I was part elf, I would look like you, right?”
“I think you look more like us than you realise. I also have a theory about where your elvish heritage comes from,” Ardeth informs me, taking the chair closest to me and reaching for the large book that is still open on the desk. “Vaeril was the one who suggested it, and I put two and two together.” He waves down at the large book. “Vaeril was…away when this happened, so he won’t remember, but about fifty years ago, one of our scholars, a wood elf named Jaonos, left us. He was tired of the war and spoke of making peace with the humans.” He sighs, shaking his head in regret. “Everyone said he was foolish, myself included, saying he would die at the hands of the humans.”