Realm of Light - Deborah Chester [76]
“Choven made, just like this sword,” he said, touching the hilt with his fingertips.
“But you are human.”
He shrugged. “I don’t know what I am. I am not sure they know. If they do, they will not say.”
“But—”
“At least it answers my questions about how I can do the things that I do.”
She did not like the bleak tone in his voice. She did not like the way his face shut her out.
“Don’t turn to granite, the way you do sometimes. Don’t pretend it doesn’t matter, when clearly it does. We have shared, remember?”
He didn’t look at her. “That was before.”
“And now?” she insisted, tugging at his sleeve to make him look at her. “Has your lust cooled already?”
Her bold question turned his face scarlet. He would not meet her eyes. “We should never have shared. Had I known—”
“What is different now from before?” she demanded. “You have learned truths you do not like. Are you the only one? Is it easy to stand isolated and detached from everyone? Is it better to hurt others before they hurt you? You shared yourself with me. We can’t ignore that, or forget it happened. Or can we? How could you do such a thing to me?”
“I didn’t mean—” His face contorted, and he turned away. “You don’t understand.”
“Then make me understand. Don’t shut me away from the truth.”
His eyes met hers then, and they were filled with torment. “I have been told my future,” he said hoarsely. “I am afraid of it.”
Her anger faded to compassion. She reached up to touch his cheek. He caught her hand and pressed his lips to it.
“I thought you didn’t care—wouldn’t care,” he whispered. “You said—”
“I know what I said,” she replied breathlessly. “I was a fool. But now I am free. I can admit what fills my heart.”
He released her hand abruptly and stepped back. “Don’t pity me.”
“I don’t—”
“Not human,” he said bleakly, staring across the clearing at nothing. “Not anything—”
“Stop it!” she shouted. “This whining self-pity is not like you. What has unmanned you so?”
He shook his head, looking ashamed.
“Is your destiny worse than mine? Have you suffered more than I? Take hold of your blessings, not your regrets. Are we not alive? And together? Is that not a place to begin anew?”
He bowed his head. “Yes, you are right. But I have less than before to offer you.”
“Do you think I care?”
There it was, her declaration thrown out in the open. She felt bolder than brass, afraid, but exhilarated too.
Caelan lifted his head and met her eyes. At once she felt as though she had been dipped in boiling water. She couldn’t breathe properly. Her thoughts were spinning.
Somehow she managed to continue her argument, although his eyes and hers seemed to be speaking in a language of their own. “Name one blessing given to you,” Elandra said sternly. “I have been saved from the darkness. That is one blessing for me. What about you?”
He swallowed, and she grew weak from watching the movement in his throat.
“Lea is alive,” he said hoarsely.
Astonishment filled Elandra, momentarily distracting her. “Alive! How is this possible? You said—”
“I know. I found her here.” He bit his lip and seemed to struggle for words. “There is too much to explain. But she is well and safe. The Choven have cared for her all these years.”
“The Choven again,” Elandra said in wonder. “It is surely a miracle. Caelan, how wonderful. Where is she? May I meet her?”
He glanced at the snowcapped mountains towering above the forest. “She’s up there.”
“I want to meet her. Why didn’t you bring her to me?”
His face clouded, and he shook his head. “It is not that simple.”
More secrets. She crossed her arms impatiently. “Why not? Caelan, you really don’t understand anything, do you?”
“No, I really don’t,” he retorted with equal heat. “I don’t understand how my sister can live half in and half out of the spirit-world without being a spirit herself. I don’t understand why she prefers the Choven and their ways to everyone else. I don’t understand how she could reach into the realm of shadow with her will and bring us here to her the moment we stepped through the