15. Secrets And Lies
Secrets And Lies
F inley should have been afraid. Most people would have been.
And that would likely have been intelligent and wise.
But he was not scared. He would justify it later by telling himself that it was because it was Rhalyf–as if somehow this incredibly powerful Mage should not have been terrifying regardless of him being a Kindreth–and that was why he reached up and cupped the Night Elf’s cheek.
Without thought. Without self-consciousness. Without fear.
He needed to touch.
To assure himself that what he was seeing was real .
It was like that moment when Aquilan had appeared on his shining white horse with his sword held high.
“Kindreth,” Finley found himself whispering.
To see a Night Elf to him was to see a dream . One that he’d had for so long.
Rhalyf blinked. His lips parted, but he said nothing. There was a haunted look in his eyes. Finley didn't want that there. It was as if Rhalyf feared what he would say, what his reaction would be, even though he found him beautiful .
“Hair like spun starlight,” Finley continued.
His hand drifted from Rhalyf’s face to the fall of silvery hair that hung down past his shoulders.
It was as soft as silk and shimmered in the low light of the woods.
None of the books he’d read had captured the true glory of it.
Kindreth hair was magical . Rhalyf blinked some more and that haunted look eased.
Finley stared into Rhalyf’s eyes. Really looked into them. “Eyes like glowing jewels in the dark.”
They were a deep crimson, but with golden fires in them. They were alive in a way he could not explain. He imagined that they would flame in the darkness.
He whispered, “ Beautiful .”
“I had no idea you were a poet,” Rhalyf said and smiled, or tried to.
“Don’t ruin it by speaking,” Finley frowned as Rhalyf’s familiar drawl reminded him just who he was touching. Night Elf or no, this was Rhalyf . Annoying, confounding, arrogant Rhalyf who could weave magic like no one else.
That had Rhalyf snort-laughing and smiling genuinely. “Ruin it? I will have you know that I am found quite charming with my wit adding to my–what did you say?--eyes glowing like jewels in the dark?”
Finley rolled his own eyes. “You can’t help yourself, can you? So vain!”
He was about to drop his hand when Rhalyf caught it. The smile died on the Night Elf’s face and his lower lip trembled. Just for a moment.
He’s terrified. He’s terrified about what I’ll think of him. Can’t he see–haven’t I shown him too much already of my regard?
“So worried actually,” Rhalyf confessed. “Most people when they see a Kindreth scream and flee.”
Rhalyf’s touch was strong, but gentle. He wasn’t trapping Finley’s hand, just holding it as if to ask: are you frightened of me?
But Finley was not. He couldn’t be. This was Rhalyf .
And while that meant many things like skilled and powerful and annoying , it also meant gentle, funny and caring, too.
An elf that would read a sticky children’s story to some urchins.
An elf that delighted in caramel corn. An elf that made Gemma feel as special and beautiful as she was. An elf that spoke to him like an equal.
Yet to trust Rhalyf? That was ridiculous on some level, considering Rhalyf had clearly lied to him about who and what he was. Maybe he was lying to lots of people. Did Aquilan know? Did Declan? Yet despite the lies and uncertainty, Finley knew he was safe with this elf. He knew it in his bones.
“Scream and flee? I’ll do that only if you keep waxing rhapsodic about your own beauty,” Finley deadpanned. His hand tingled where Rhalyf held it.
A smile that truly made Rhalyf ten times more handsome–if that were possible and Finley would never tell him–crossed the Night Elf’s face. “Oh, no, I won’t speak of it at all! I will leave that to you .”
Finley blushed so hard that his cheeks hurt. “I–I was just surprised seeing you like this. I wouldn’t have said that… that otherwise.”
“Pity,” Rhalyf murmured. “I shall have to find ways to surprise you again to hear such compliments.”
“Your ego can’t survive such puffing,” Finley informed him stiffly. “But… but… you’re a Night Elf!”
Rhalyf grimaced. “Yes, as we’ve established.” He ran his free hand through his silvery locks. “And I think I know who to blame for that. Show yourself indeed! Bastard!”
“I don’t understand,” Finley said. “When I came here, you didn’t seem to know that your–your glamour was gone.”
He assumed that it was a glamour. Not as complicated as the “Gran” one had been. But clearly something that hid the outward signs of his Kindreth-ness.
“Gods, no . I never take it off. I just hope not everything was stripped away.” Here Rhalyf closed his hand over the stylized Sun amulet he wore. He let out a relieved sigh and released it. “Good. The Adiva is still functioning though I will need to inspect the enchantment later. Just in case.”
“So you didn’t do this yourself?” Finley gestured to Rhalyf’s transformed body. “For the spell you were doing?”
Another shake of his head. “No, this was a trap .” Rhalyf’s lips flattened into a thin white line. “He must have known I would come here and–”
“He?” Finley interrupted.
“The Kindreth who killed Seith and Leisha. He left a spell behind to trap whoever would seek his identify by performing a divining here,” Rhalyf explained. “I was trying to determine their killer, you see? And their killer undid me.”
Finley gazed around the clearing. Dead trees. Blood on some leaves. Unnatural quiet. He nodded.
“People make up all sorts of things about murder leaving a mark. But that would make the whole of this world scarred and it isn’t. But this place… something bad happened here,” Finley said quietly.
“Yes, most definitely. They were sacrificed. A blood ritual. No Kindreth will waste blood if they can help it,” Rhalyf said the last bitterly, which had Finley turning towards him with a questioning look. “You haven’t asked me the obvious questions.”
Finley lifted an eyebrow.
Rhalyf ticked off on his fingers, “Does Aquilan know? What am I doing here? Am I a spy or a–”
“You’re not,” Finley interrupted him firmly. “Or if you were, you aren’t any more. You love Aquilan like a brother. You would never hurt him.”
Rhalyf let out a dark laugh. “That’s not saying much. For a Kindreth will kill his own brother as easily as breathing. Better to say that I love him like an Aravae loves their brother.”
“Fair enough. Does Aquilan know?” Finley asked as he slowly paced around the clearing.
“No.” There was a pause and then, “Do you intend to tell him?”
“If I did, I should hardly admit it to you especially when we’re in the middle of the woods with no one around to see,” Finley reminded him as he crouched by the bloodied leaves. “You could add me to this murderer’s tally if you wished.”
“Well, fair enough. But do you, Finley?” Rhalyf’s hands were tightened into fists. “Will you tell Aquilan? I promise I won’t… I won’t hurt you no matter what you say. I could… but I won’t.”
Finley considered this. “No, you aren’t a threat to him. The fact that your hair is white and your eyes are red seems like an inconsequential thing to tell.”
Rhalyf’s head lowered. “You could gain much by revealing a Kindreth at court.”
“I don’t need to gain things that way. I earn them,” Finley responded as he poked at the leaves.
“You know,” Rhalyf’s voice dipped, “if I didn’t believe you I have other methods of protecting my secret. I don’t have to hurt you. Magic is quite malleable.”
Rhalyf’s shadow loomed over him. Finley knew that this was a crucial moment. Teetering on the edge moment. But he still trusted Rhalyf. Would Rhalyf trust him? That was really the question.
“I’m sure there are,” Finley answered without looking up. “I’m not like the Separatists. I have an imagination where magic is concerned.”
Showing fear or concern might tip Rhalyf to act, but behaving unconcernedly would keep things as they were. He was not a threat. His knowing this secret was not a threat.
“I could take your memories, of course,” Rhalyf said. “You’d forget finding me here like this. There are complications with a spell like that. And you’re very… dogged. I’m not sure how well it would work.
“I would prefer you not touch my mind. It’s very important to me,” Finley answered as he dug beneath the leaves with no sense of urgency. If Rhalyf acted against him, there was nothing he could do.
Silence and then, “It would be a pity to mess with such a brilliant mind. And this… this was going to be revealed anyway. In time.”
Finley looked up at him then. Rhalyf was staring off into the woods, appearing vaguely dissatisfied.
But the moment of decision had come and gone.
Rhalyf wasn’t going to hurt him or take his memories.
He had accepted that Finley knew and for good or for ill, he was going to let it be. He was going to trust Finley.
“You’re safe with me, Rhalyf,” Finley said.
“I really am going soft,” Rhalyf muttered.
“I don’t think so. There’s just no need for you to act. And you aren’t cruel,” Finley said.
Rhalyf turned those luminous red eyes upon him again. “I very much try not to be. But I also try not to be stupid. And putting myself in your power this way… well, some would say it is the height of stupidity.”
“Those people would be wrong. I know that you aren’t here to hurt Aquilan and I have no prejudice against the Kindreth generally. So it does not behoove me to betray you.” Finley decided now was the prime time to switch the subject and asked, “Who was the Kindreth who killed Seith and Leisha?”
“I didn’t see his face,” Rhalyf replied, but he wrapped his arms over his chest and held himself tightly.
Finley studied his very tense form. “But you know who it is, don’t you?”
“I can only guess.”
“Then guess–”
“No.” Rhalyf shook his head. That shimmering hair spread over his shoulders. “No, I can’t go there.”