“Koehlan.”

  His eyes lit up even more. “That’s what I thought. You look just like your great-aunt, Ithyndlle. You know, our families have ties that go way back. In fact, if your parents had stayed, we might have been mated.” He laughed nervously. “Well, you would be a lot older, too. The elves who went to Renwyn lost quite a lot while building that city, so I heard.” He grinned. “But I’ve always liked younger women.”

  Irielle didn’t know what to say. She had seen the covert glances he was casting in her direction every so often and knew where this was going. “Galaeron, Simban and I . . .”

  He ran a hand through his blond hair and sighed. “Yes. I know. You have something going on with him. But if you ever . . . if it doesn’t work out . . .”

  “I’ll let you know,” she promised.

  He blew out a sigh of relief. “That was what I meant.”

  They shared a smile of understanding, and he gestured for her to precede him back into the cave.

  Simban glanced over when they returned, his brows drawn together in a frown. She shook her head once and went over to him, moving her bag closer to his. He seemed to relax, and his hand clasped her shoulder for a moment.

  Then she turned to Evindal. “What foretelling were you talking about in the tunnel?”

  “There was a foretelling of how to get into the Crystal Cave, and one for the Cavern of Knowledge. But they were lost. I think this is one of them.”

  “That foretelling was made over a thousand years ago. If it hasn’t been fulfilled by now,” Theoduin’s voice was angry, “then it’s just a piece of history.”

  They were all silent for a moment, and Irielle could see by their expressions that not everyone agreed with Theoduin’s assessment.

  “No sign of Ardak,” Simban broke in. “Should rest.”

  “But what if it . . .” she began.

  “No sleep, no good in fight,” Simban said flatly.

  “Speak for yourself, cyborg,” Theoduin broke in. “We would prefer to keep going and arrive as soon as possible.”

  “Another day’s walk from here!” He gestured angrily. “Irielle sick. Should rest.”

  Her eyes went to the brothers, and Galaeron threw his hands into the air. “Don’t look at us. We’re just the hired help.”

  Irielle almost smiled.

  Rydaeron shrugged and turned to Evindal.

  She glanced at Evindal as well.

  “I guess that just leaves me.” Evindal sighed and glanced at Irielle. “How long do you want?”

  She glanced away, uncomfortable with being the cause of their delay. Truth be told, however, she was exhausted.

  “Five hours.” Simban obviously had no problem with it.

  Evindal nodded. “Let’s do it. I sensed a creek not far from here so I’ll refresh my magic and fill the water carriers before we leave.”

  “I’m going to get some air,” Theoduin snapped, his steps clipped as he exited the cave without another word.

  Simban looked at her and rolled his eyes. It was more of a roll of his entire head, but she got the point.

  She sat in front of the fire. She was tired but didn’t want to sleep yet. These elves knew so much about their past, a history she didn’t know. Why had it been kept from them? Finding out there were more elves on Aurora would be a big deal to all of her people.

  Evindal leaned back against a boulder at the back of the cave, staring into the fire.

  “Why does Elsifan hate Renwynians so much?” she asked.

  Evindal sighed again, his eyes gazing out into the darkness where Theoduin had gone. They briefly rested on Ryoduin, who shrugged and reclined, laying his head on his pack. “Our ancestors came here almost fifteen hundred years ago from Melamar, an exploratory group meant to build an outpost for our people. At the time, our Melamar was at the height of its power, and this was the perfect planet, rich with crystals we could mine and use for magic. We were slowly building a community of planets, united in magic and harmony with nature.”

  Planets with other elves? The idea shocked her, but she couldn’t say why. Until the Ardak invasion, she had never thought much about life on other planets. “An elven empire of many worlds? Was it as large as the Ardak empire is rumored to be?”

  “I don’t know. I didn’t pay too much attention to politics when I was young, unfortunately. I didn’t visit Melamar when I had the chance. All I know is that one day, something terrible must have happened. Our portal ceased to work, and we lost contact with Melamar. For hundreds of years, we tried everything imaginable in countless attempts to get the portal to work again.”

  Evindal paused, his expression turning even grimmer. “By then, it wasn’t just the desire to reconnect with Melamar, you see. Elven life spans are long, but even we don’t live forever. And about a thousand years after we lost contact, our people stopped birthing healthy infants. The first generation was dying, and there weren’t enough elves in the original team to create the diversity we needed for a healthy population.”

  His face became a mask of grief, and Irielle could feel the sorrow pouring from him as he continued the story. “Eventually, many of the original elves lost their minds, and some even turned to dark magic in attempts to leave this place or to have children. It is said that a large white-and-gold bird showed up and asked for a crystal keeper, who took the most powerful crystals and shut herself away so no more attempts would be made using the dark magic. It was around that time that the first historian and the first leader also disappeared. They left behind the foretelling leading to the Crystal Cave and the Cavern of Knowledge, but this is the first time I’ve seen one.”

  “So you think it really is the Crystal Cave?” Galaeron asked.

  Evindal shrugged. “It could be. No one knows. We’ve never found out about the portals, or the first leaders who disappeared. After that, a great rift appeared in our people. Several of the elves wanted to breed with the people of this planet. They wanted children, even though doing so would dilute their magic and shorten their life spans. After all, what is the point of living a thousand years if one has no offspring to share it with? Yet others insisted that we remain pure, that we should wait to reestablish contact with Melamar. But no such contact came.” Evindal paused, and his blue eyes seemed to bore into her. “Finally, tired of waiting, those who wanted children left to form Renwyn.”

  Irielle gasped. “King Ardair and Queen Mirielle? They left to mate with other races?”

  “Their parents did. Along with many others. More than half of the elves left with them.”

  Irielle gazed at him in disbelief. “But that doesn’t make sense! None of us have mated with different races!”

  Evindal gave her a level glance. “Even you can’t believe that, Irielle. Look at yourself compared to us.”

  Oh gods.

  That was why the elves of the mountain village looked so different. Why they spoke a different dialect. And why their magic was stronger.

  Who did they choose? How much did it dilute our magic and shorten our life spans?

  She put a hand to her chest. “Why didn’t anyone tell us? We should know our history. Where we come from. Who we are.”

  Evindal examined the fire again. “Perhaps they didn’t want you to know. Or perhaps it was too painful for them to speak of. Either way, I do not believe the withholding of information was ill-intentioned. We’ve had occasional news from Renwyn, and were under the impression that that they lived at peace with those around them, forged alliances with the mountain people and the humans of this world. And, in the end, if Renwyn has the cure, they will be the ones to save us all from these Ardaks you speak of.”

  Evindal lay back on his pack and closed his eyes, obviously finished.

  Irielle had a thousand questions, but one was most pressing. “If half the elves left, did someone you loved go to Renwyn?”

  “Yes,” he admitted. “Mirielle is my sister.”

  Pain shot through her at the mention of their former queen. She closed her eyes, knowing just by the way he spoke of her that he didn’t know his sister wasn’t part of this world any longer.

  When she opened her eyes, Evindal was watching her closely. He had seen her expression and come to his own conclusion.

  “Your sister, Queen Mirielle, was killed when the Ardaks first invaded. She was leading a team to rescue people from Siirti.” Irielle shook her head sadly. “We don’t know exactly what happened. She was the best we had at shielding. But, somehow, their shield dropped, and her entire team was killed.”

  Evindal rose stiffly, his face pained. “I’m sorry. I need a few minutes alone.”

  When he left the cave, she thought about the others. Did they have family in Renwyn? How many others would find their relatives had died?

  Chapter Seventeen

  Simban

  Simban had been listening quietly as Evindal relayed the history of the elves. He was beginning to understand why Elsifan hated the Renwynians. They had moved on, while he was still trying to get back to the past. He also wondered if Theoduin had lost someone to Renwyn.

  No one spoke, but none of them slept, either.

  Evindal returned a short while later, his eyes slightly reddened. “I don’t understand how this happened. I always believed that if there was something important, Ardair would send word to us.”

  “Perhaps he didn’t have time,” Irielle replied, looking lost.

  When her words trailed off Simban knew he would have to tell them Ardair had also joined the other side. “Ardair is dead.” Simban replied as gently as he could. “Died in cave war.”

  “No!” The single word boomed from the entrance and echoed through the cave. It was filled with rage and bitterness. Theoduin.

  “I’m sorry,” Simban said, bowing his head in acknowledgement of the other man’s loss.

  “You’re sorry?” Theoduin’s voice thundered through the cave and his eyes blazed with fury. He held out his hands and wind swept through the cave. The flames from the fire danced and it almost went out, but one of the brothers rekindled it. “You have no idea what it means to be sorry. To lose your firstborn son to a foolish ideal! He could have been king! What good will children do him now?”

  Simban had stood, forcing his body up against the wind. “We lost thousands! Friends, family, our home. We understand. And he was king.”

  “You could never understand, cyborg.” Theoduin approached quickly, his face eye to eye with Simban. His mouth was tight with anger, and his voice thick with disdain. “You are just a youth! Your peoples’ life spans are nothing to ours!”

  Simban took a step forward, but he didn’t respond. The man’s rage was understandable. He, too, knew the power of grief. But Theoduin couldn’t be allowed to take out his rage on the others.

  Irielle, who had been watching the altercation in shock, finally rose. “We understand your anger. But you should be ashamed of treating others as less than yourself.”

  “No, it is you who is shameful, halfling.”

  Simban watched as the word hit her with almost physical force. His pity evaporated, turning to anger. “Quiet!” he growled at the elf, taking another step toward him and raising a hand to the hilt of his knife.

  Theoduin shot him a look of disdain. “Consorting with a man from Siirti. You know if you mate him, he will take half your magic. Shorten half your life span yet again.”

  Her eyes grew bright, and Simban rounded on the elder elf, narrowing his eyes. Magic or not, he was going to kill the elf if he said anything more. “I said quiet.”

  Theoduin turned away, focusing on Irielle. “Rein in your pet.”

  Simban almost took his head off right there. He was fairly certain he was close enough to do some real damage before the elf summoned his magic. But he was afraid of what it would do to Irielle.

  “He is not my pet,” she said, her words a low hiss of anger. “We don’t need you here with us if you’re just going to make problems. Your people are ill, I’m dying from the Red Death, and we have an Ardak chasing us. If you can’t set your grievances and prejudices aside for this mission, we don’t need you.”

  Irielle stiffened, bracing herself for another bout of Theoduin’s wrath, and any ideas Simban might have had of being with her disappeared. Shame and embarrassment filled him for a moment.

  She shouldn’t have to defend me.

  “You’re refusing our help?” The words came from Ryoduin, his gaze filled with malice.

  Simban reminded himself that the elf was brother to the fallen king and forced himself not to act against the younger elf.

  “Yes. Must defeat Ardak. Must get to Renwyn. But can’t trust you.” Simban’s voice was loud and sure as he gestured at the forest behind them. “Go. Now.”

  The two elves stared at each other in disbelief for several seconds.

  Finally, Theoduin nodded. “You’re going to regret this.”

  “Already regret it, Ud’Rann,” Simban answered through gritted teeth. He didn’t think he’d ever forget being called a pet or Irielle’s reaction to it.

  The elf drew back at being called an asshole in his own language, and a twinge of satisfaction went through him.

  That’s right, Ardak is close enough to Elvish for me to cuss you out.

  The two elves took their packs and left the cave, melting into the darkness without so much as another word.

  “Can they return home?” Galaeron asked Evindal.

  It was a good question. Because if they couldn’t, they might be back to create more problems.

  Evindal shook his head. “I have no idea. I don’t think Elsifan will show mercy, even if they are on his side. Helping us at all made them outcasts.”

  Great. Another reason for the elves to come back and seek retribution. Against his will, a twinge of pity went through him for the two elves, but he pushed it away. “Too dangerous to stay. May be more dangerous now.”

  “I know!” Evindal sat back down and hit his pack with his fist. “I know. Maybe they will try to stay in hiding. Or wait around here until we return with the cure.” He lay with his head on his pack and closed his eyes, not saying another word.

  Simban slowly sat behind Irielle, watching her body slowly relax as she stretched out on her sleeping roll. He had a bad feeling about those two elves. Their anger would need an outlet, which may very likely be them. They had enough to deal with.

  Rydaeron glanced at his brother. “The outside isn’t at all like what I imagined.”

  “Don’t let those two fools get you down,” Galaeron replied blandly.

  “Besides,” Irielle broke in, “Renwyn isn’t like this.”

  “What is it like?” Galaeron asked.

  Her eyes took on a faraway look. “It’s on a hilltop by the sea, where the salty breezes are warm in winter and cool in summer. It overlooks a great canyon carved by a river below, where the fish breed in spring and then make their way out to sea. And beyond it lies a vast plain where the wild beasts roam and graze on the sweet grasses all year long.”

  Listening to her, Simban realized she was as in love with nature as he was. He couldn’t speak the words, but that didn’t make his feelings any less when he thought of the high mountains where he grew up, with their tall sheltering trees, wild berries, and sweet-smelling wildflowers. The caves the children explored to stay cool in summer and the fires they built in their hearths to stay warm in winter. Even the snow was welcome because it brought fresh water and sparkling creeks as it melted in the spring.

  But the beauty of the mountains was gone, stolen by the Ardaks in the invasion. And although Renwyn had been beautiful, he’d seen the way the elves had looked at him. He couldn’t get Theoduin’s words out of his mind.

  Rein in your pet.

  If he really cared for her, he would let her find a mate from her own kind. Spare her a life of misery and shame. Because even though not everyone believed as Theoduin did, he had seen enough of them in his short time at Renwyn to know that it would be awkward even if he didn’t have a broken chip.

  And the broken chip just made it worse.

  He lay behind Irielle, but this time he didn’t pull her to him. She was facing away from him, but the image of Irielle swam before him when he closed his eyes. Her long hair streaked with gold from the firelight. Her lips as red as berries, her beauty shining like a magical aura around her.

  Irielle is from another world, he told himself harshly.

  And no matter how much I care for her, she does not belong with me.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Irielle

  Irielle snuggled deeper into the jacket, safe and warm. She knew it was a dream because she hadn’t been safe and warm in years.

  Since before the invasion.

  The gentle feelings left her as memories of the night before came flooding back. Theoduin and Ryoduin really left us. She couldn’t believe it. What will they do if they encounter the Ardaks on their own?

  She shook off the thought. She should be more worried about them and how they were going to get to Renwyn.

  She sat up and found that Simban was also awake. His face was still relaxed from sleep, and he appeared almost gentle, even in the harsh shadows of the firelight.

  “How long did we sleep?”

  “Five hours.”

  “And the Ardak?”

  “No sign. Checked twice.”

  The tightness in her stomach loosened. Movement from the other side of the fire drew her eye, letting her know that everyone else was already awake.

  Evindal rose and put on his pack. “I’m going to fill the water carriers.”

  “Let’s all go. I think we all could use some water. Besides, we should be on our way.” Irielle grabbed her pack while Galaeron put out the fire and Simban gathered his things.

  When the others were finished, he led the way out of the cave, and she watched him scan the still-dark forest for the Ardak.

  There was so much about him that she didn’t know. How far he could see with his ocular enhancements, and what other attributes he might have. She’d seen him show incredible strength and speed when he could control it, and wished they could have a real conversation. But that required time and privacy, neither of which they had.