Chapter 7
7
MEV
The brief darkness was followed by a bright, almost blinding, light. After the darkness of the storage room, the scene before me was almost too much to take in all at once. A circular room, three plush couches with a table in the center of them. Ordinary, if not opulent, though I couldn’t say the same for what lay beyond them.
The walls were covered in floor-to-ceiling windows, arched at the top, and the scene beyond them was one which didn’t belong in our world. The earthly world. Snow-covered mountains, what I imagined the Swiss Alps to look like in real life, but more pointed. Higher and more magnificent than one could imagine.
Was it possible Jon had told the truth? From the humming that had filled my ears to traveling through the darkness—and now the scene before me, certainly not another storage room in a pub in York—evidence was everywhere.
Even as my brain attempted to catch up to the erratic beating of my heart and my hands began to tremble, I whipped round to see where I’d just come through. Instead of a white marble arch and cement wall, there stood a circular entranceway, roughly the same size, with celestial symbols etched all around. Ring after ring of symbols were lit by the same blue glow as the carvings I’d left behind.
I stood, frozen, unable to decide what to do. Most of me wanted to run back into that portal, throw my arms around Clara and not let go. Get back on a plane to the States, hide in my museum office, and forget this ever happened. But another part of me, the ever-curious one, wanted to stay. Explore.
At that thought, a peace settled inside my chest. How odd that a sense of belonging so suddenly replaced the terror that should have me tearing back through that portal.
Even so, the practical side won out. I needed to go back, tell Jon I believed him and, even if I could explore this… what had he called it… Elydor? I couldn’t do it with so little information. I needed to talk to him first. Taking a deep breath, hoping it would work, I took a step toward the portal, its blue light becoming brighter.
“Not so fast.”
A hand gripped my arm from behind. I hadn’t heard anyone come inside the room, and when I spun around, I was fairly certain I might faint. A man stood before me, his chiseled jawline and piercing green eyes just two features almost too perfect to be real. He had dark brown hair that was neither short, nor long. He was tall and clearly muscular beneath clothes unlike anything I’d ever seen, similar to a medieval knight’s armor if it were made out of fabric.
For all of that, he also appeared decidedly human. No alien green skin. Or elvish pointed ears. Just, human, but more perfect. Unfortunately, though, not very friendly. I pulled my arm away, or tried to, but he was much too strong.
“We don’t have time for this.” His voice was low and gruff and decidedly irritated. About to ask what he meant by that, I didn’t need to. The man lifted me up by the waist and carried me in the opposite direction of the portal.
Panic consumed me with every step he took away from it. “No,” I yelled, pounding his back with my fist. “Please, no. I have to go back. I’m not meant to be here.”
“No, you’re not,” he agreed, striding through the open doors I hadn’t heard opening and into the foyer of all foyers. It was like the fanciest of hotels on steroids. Cream marble everywhere, like the arch in the pub. Pillar after pillar, gold chandeliers… didn’t matter.
More fighting, less ogling, Mevlida.
“Put. Me. Down.”
Unfortunately, the fact that my mother had enrolled me in Brazilian jiu-jitsu when I was young, and I not only held a black belt but had won several state and regional BJJ championships, meant nothing against this guy. Or whatever he was. As he descended a set of steps, also marble, of course, I was like a captive little child in his arms.
“Would you please stop?” he said, plopping me onto the most massive, but admittedly beautiful, brown horse I’d ever seen. My training kicked in full force then. A rule of thumb was, never let them take you to another location. That’s where the murders always happened. No fucking way was I going anywhere with this handsome devil spawn.
“Sorry if I’m not making my abduction easy on you,” I muttered, attempting to kick him away from me and hop down.
This couldn’t be happening. I continued to kick, waiting to wake up in a hotel room in York. Surely I’d drunk one too many beers on our pub crawl and Clara would be urging me to rise and shine any second.
Unfortunately, not only had I not managed to escape, but the gorgeous brute was now mounted in front of me. He grabbed each of my arms, pulled them around his torso, and tied them together. The ropes were tight and itchy, my face smushed against his back.
Any delusions of this being a dream vanished as he spurred his horse forward. I bounced up and down, now as afraid to fall as I was to be abducted. It was more uncomfortable than a seven-hour flight in coach, not that I’d ever flown anything but. How people could sleep in tiny airline seats was beyond me.
Also beyond me? My current situation.
“Why are you doing this?” I shouted. If I weren’t terrified—of being kidnapped, of stepping from a dusty pub storage room into this place, and discovering that it was actually real—I’d be able to appreciate the views around me. The only way to describe it was like being plopped into the elf world in Lord of the Rings . I was never a big fantasy girl, hadn’t read the books, but my ex was obsessed, and we’d watched the trilogy at least three times. I liked the elves best, but honestly never thought I’d be visiting Rivendell in real life.
We were racing down a mountain, but above us, some of the buildings seemed to be on floating islands of clouds with waterfalls cascading onto more clouds below them. That same blue glow from the stones imbued everything, especially the waterfalls. The snow-capped mountains were the tallest I’d ever seen. Despite my dire situation, I couldn’t help being mesmerized too.
Shouts from behind us interrupted my thoughts.
We were being followed.
“Help!” I screamed as loudly as possible. I didn’t stop screaming, my throat raw with the plea. But my companion didn’t seem fazed. I wondered if he even knew what was happening behind him. A few minutes later, I had my answer.
Miraculously, he slowed and spun in the direction my face was turned. I thought he would address me, but instead, he held up a hand, as if motioning “stop.” I twisted to see what was happening. My eyes were surely playing tricks on me.
By now, I’d stopped screaming. Instead, I watched as he erected a barrier of dirt and grass between us and the other riders.
“No fucking way,” I murmured.
“You can stop screaming,” he said, urging us forward once again. Ironic, as I’d already stopped. There was no way to watch what had just happened, process it, and at the same time fight for your rescue. Clearly, the man was going to do whatever the hell he wanted with me. He’d just built an earth wall… with his hand.
“I already did,” I pointed out, shifting in the saddle that was surely not made for two people and pulling away from his back as much as I was able.
“You’ve a better chance of survival with me than any of the people following us.”
My God, his voice was deep. I thought on his words. Were they true? I tried to remember what Jon had told me about this world. Pretending, for a second, this wasn’t a forced-drug-induced hallucination or the most vivid dream I’d ever had, I thought back to our conversation.
Humans can’t go through unless they already have some innate abilities already.
False. I had no magical abilities, yet here we were.
There are four clans in Elydor. We’d call them kingdoms. Your father is the king of the Air Clan. Or at least, that’s what we call it on this side. Balthor is the King of Gyoria. Or as we call it, the Earth Clan.
It didn’t take a genius to figure out I’d landed smack dab in the middle of the Air Clan’s kingdom. Even now, as we descended down a steep path, trees blocking any further view of our surroundings, it still felt as if we were among the clouds. There was a lightness all around us, a feeling of floating, even though I was firmly on this damn horse. And while there was a cool breeze, it wasn’t cold. The weather was perfect, actually.
“If that’s true, and you are not my enemy,” I said, doubting him, “then release the binds on my hands. It’s damned uncomfortable.”
No response. At least immediately. And then, as quickly as he tied them, my wrists were unbound. As the ropes slipped away, and I gripped my abductor around the waist, not wanting to tumble to my death, I saw them fall to the ground.
Not ropes at all. Vines.
He’d tied my hands with vines. Constructed a wall of earth.
Balthor is the King of Gyoria. Or as we call it, the Earth Clan.
“Are you a king?” I blurted, immediately regretting it. The fact that my mouth worked before my brain was a joke among my co-workers and friends. Harmless, or so I thought. Never in a million years did I expect that particular flaw might get me killed. Maybe I should just announce my name and everything Jon had told Clara and me while I was at it.
He didn’t respond. For a long time, my abductor said nothing. Apparently, his earth wall had worked. It had been a while since I’d heard any riders behind us. At this point, it was starting to get dark. Since we were still surrounded by woods, I couldn’t see much. The trees seemed perfectly normal, as if the whole cloud city thing had never existed.
But it had, and evidence of the fact that this was not my normal world popped up periodically. A faint glow coming from certain plants, their leaves pulsing with light. Or the occasional glimpse of creatures darting between the trees—one looking like a cross between a squirrel and a butterfly, its furry body adorned with delicate, iridescent wings.
The air itself felt different, too. Clean and invigorating, the familiar scent of pine but mixed with something sweeter, almost like cotton candy.
Also familiar? My very real urge to pee.
“Hello?”
Nothing.
“Excuse me?”
Still nothing. The jerk didn’t even turn around to acknowledge me. Damned inconsiderate kidnapper. I smiled at my own sort-of joke, one that would have made Clara laugh if she were with me. With any luck, Jon had stopped her from following me since there was a very good chance she’d at least tried.
I didn’t dare let go, not at the speed we were riding. So I squeezed him, as hard as I could, instead.
“Did you just squeeze me?”
Finally.
“Yes. You weren’t answering me.”
“Perhaps because I’m busy saving you.”
I didn’t believe that for a second. “Can you save me from peeing my pants, then?”
Surprisingly, he slowed down. “Humans,” he muttered, as if I’d committed some sort of capital offense.
Knowing I should hold my tongue, and preemptively chastising myself for what was about to come out of my mouth, I let it loose.
“Apologies for being human . But maybe consider, for a second, I was in a pub in York with my best friend and accidentally stepped through—whatever I stepped through—and found myself in God knows where with squirrel butterflies and glowing plants and cities in the clouds. Not to mention that thing you did with your hands.”
He’d slowed to a complete stop. By the end of my speech, he actually turned in the saddle to look down at me. I loosened my grip.
The corners of his lips raised.
Dear lord. There were a lot of things I was sure were deadly about this guy, and that smile was certainly one of them.
“I can do a lot more than that with my hands.”
My mouth fell open. Was my kidnapper… flirting with me?
“Can you produce a restroom? Sorry,” I said, remembering I was in England. “Loo?” Wait, not in England. “Or whatever you call it here?”
He looked as if he were trying not to laugh. Turning back around, he spurred the massive horse on once again. So apparently, I had to pee in my pants. Fabulous.
“I’ll take you to a stream,” he said.
What the hell did that mean? A stream? Seemed like an odd place to pee, but beggars couldn’t be choosers, I supposed. Alive was alive, and so I wouldn’t complain. For now.
“And no,” he added.
“No, what?”
“I am not a king.”
Good to know. So not the Earth King, or whatever. That was something.
A few minutes later, as promised, a stream came into view. But it wasn’t an ordinary stream. Its water was a clear crystal blue, a beautiful blue that was anything but earthly.
He dismounted and lifted me off the horse as if I weighed as much as a pack of Post-it notes.
“Prince Kael,” he said in a confident tone that bordered on cockiness, looking straight into my eyes. I’d do well to remember, despite those green eyes and perfect jaw, that this man was my literal kidnapper.
“Princess,” I tossed out in response to his high and mighty tone. Then realizing giving him my actual name might not be a good idea, I added, “Mia.” If only Clara was here to hear that one. She was a huge Princess Diaries fan.
Ignoring his raised brows, I thought about his response. Was he actually a prince? If so, did that mean the king Jon mentioned was his father? Questions for another time. For now, unable to hold it much longer, I blurted, “I really do have to?—”
He pointed to some nearby shrubs. Without another word, I sprinted toward them, his words following me. “If you run, I will feel it.”
What an odd thing to say. He would feel it?
I had questions.
Lots and lots of questions.