Chapter 17
Oh my giddy aunt.
Ryn peered between her fingers and watched in horrified awe as her unlikely savior made utter mincemeat of a snake that really, really shouldn’t have existed at all.
Snakes of that size lived in storybooks and lands far, far away, not in Abreia, which meant that absolute toad of a fae enchantress was going to have some explaining to do when this was over.
Actually, bears of that size didn’t seem very likely either.
At least, not in caves. Though she’d heard of several species that denned in caves, they certainly didn’t hunt in them, as there were no prey species large enough to sustain them, and their bulk made navigating passageways difficult at best.
And this bear? Her head might come up to its shoulder. It appeared to be dark gray, with silvery tips on the fur across its back. And those paws… They could crush her skull like an egg—the same way they had just crushed that snake and left it in a bleeding heap on the floor.
The real question was, how the devil was this meant to be a trial for any potential bride, let alone someone like her? What exactly was a scholar supposed to do with a giant snake and a bear that could swallow her whole? Harangue them to death with a lecture about how they couldn’t possibly exist?
A moment later, Ryn kicked herself—metaphorically—because she’d been too busy lying there grumbling about bears and evil fae enchantresses to try sneaking away, and now it was too late.
The bear turned from the mangled pile of snake, whuffed in satisfaction, and looked right at her.
She immediately froze. That was the correct response to a bear attack, wasn’t it?
Or maybe that was some other predator. But it hardly mattered when she couldn’t run fast enough to escape.
Not even on level ground, outside, where she could see where she was going and hadn’t twisted her ankle tripping over her own skirts.
Sweet sisters of the saints, it was coming straight for her. Not casually either, but moving with purpose, with an angry red glow in its dark eyes…
Oh. Ohhhh.
Ryn could have collapsed with relief, but she was already lying down, so she settled for rolling over and flopping flat on her back with a groan.
A moment later, a huge shaggy head appeared in her field of vision, and a massive nose began snuffling at her clothing.
She tried to control herself, she really did, but simply could not help bursting into uncontrollable laughter.
“Stop, stop, please,” she begged, sitting up and pushing the bear’s face away with a firm shove.
“You smell like a wet dog, and your breath tickles.”
The bear promptly moved closer and exposed its fangs in a ghastly snarl. Almost adorable, really.
“You can’t fool me,” she said sternly, “so stop trying. I told you, your eyes are always the same. Though you did nearly stop my heart when you first charged in, so thank you for that.”
She’d never stopped to wonder whether it was possible for a bear to look disgruntled, but this one most definitely did as she pushed to her feet, wobbling for a moment before feeling as if she could remain upright.
In truth, the snake had shaken her badly. She’d sensed nothing before it lashed out from overhead, narrowly missing her three or four times before Xaviel rushed in like a furry battering ram. “Also, thank you for coming,” she added. “You truly did save my life, and I’m grateful.”
The bear still looked annoyed, so instead of acting like a normal person, she reached out and patted it on the head.
Why, Ryn, why? She nearly yanked her hand away in embarrassment, but then…
Good heavens, the bear’s fur was so unbelievably soft.
And thick and warm, and honestly, she wanted to hug it immediately.
But some very small, nearly inaudible voice of reason insisted that would be a terrible idea, so she buried both hands in that thick, dark ruff and made a soft humming sound of pure happiness.
“My father had a bearskin rug he brought back from one of his adventures. It looked as if it would be soft, but in reality it was more coarse and wiry, not really pleasant to lie on at all. But your fur is completely different. Is it unique to this species of bear? Or is it just your shifted form? Perhaps this kind of bear has been extinct for centuries, so we never knew about it.”
The bear growled and glared at her.
Oh, help. She was still petting him like a dog, and had she just babbled something about a bearskin rug? Ryn froze, wishing fervently that she could sink straight through the cave floor.
And an instant later, the bear was gone, shifting without fanfare or effort into the tall, broad-shouldered form of Xaviel. But she’d been standing too close—leaning forward with her fingers tangled in the bear’s fur—so when he shifted, she lost her balance and crashed into him.
Oh, the humiliation.
She couldn’t even move, so she was thankful when Xaviel took her by the shoulders, stood her upright, and bent down to stare at her with narrowed eyes.
“Are you hurt?”
She pinched her lips shut and shook her head. Could he see how red her face was? Probably.
“The viper did not bite you?”
She shook her head again. “No, its fangs only grazed my leg. Barely hurts at all.”
But he did not appear to be comforted. Instead, a look of utter horror and devastation ravaged his features, and he snatched her off the floor so quickly she had no time for anything but a startled squeak.
“Sit,” he said, moving swiftly towards the wall of the cave and setting her down while she was still wide-eyed and unable to breathe.
He’d picked her up. Like she weighed nothing. And just… carried her.
Despite her logical mind, Ryn was fully romantic enough to wish she was the sort of girl who swooned gracefully in moments like these.
Sadly, swooning at appropriate moments had never been one of her strengths, so she sat there gaping like a fish at the gorgeous elf warrior who leaned over her, dropped to one knee, took hold of the bottom of her skirts and…
“What are you doing?” she screeched, scrambling to yank the fabric out of his grasp. “You can’t just look at a girl’s legs like that.”
“I need to see how badly the snake bit you,” he insisted, sounding almost angry. “Their venom is deadly, and if those fangs broke your skin, I fear the consequences may be far more serious than you imagine.”
Oh. Well, wasn’t that a delightful little bonus to this whole situation.
Wait…
“So you know about these giant snakes? You’ve seen them before?”
He nodded, but didn’t quite look her in the eye, as if there were some further question he was hoping she would not ask.
He should definitely know better by now.
“They aren’t from here, are they?” she asked thoughtfully. “Abreia, that is.”
Xaviel let out a long breath, shut his eyes, and sat back with one elbow resting on his knee. “No. They were once common in my homeland. Far across the sea.”
“Then, if this is truly a trial…”
What had the fae said?
The one who would break the curse must be willing to endure trials. To show themselves capable of standing by a king’s side.
She had never said that only the bride would be tested.
“It was meant for me,” Xaviel said harshly, his eyes flashing open, already glimmering a deep, angry red. “And I nearly failed it. Nearly sacrificed your life in my desire for vengeance.”
Oh.
“But you didn’t,” she said gently. “I’m fine, truly.”
“If it marked you,” he growled, “you will not be fine. You will die. In agony. And it will be my fault.”
Well then. He seemed quite disturbed, and while she had never been much good at these sorts of conversations, perhaps if she tried harder to understand…
“Did you lose someone close to you?” she hazarded, not really anticipating that he would answer. To her surprise, he did.
“When Kel and I were boys, we went hunting in a cave very like this one. We should never have gone alone. The caves were dangerous, and we knew we should have taken an experienced guard on any such expedition. But Kel’s father was king—the greatest warrior our people had ever seen—and we wanted nothing more than to impress him and prove that we were worthy of his notice.
So we sneaked out, and soon found ourselves battling for our lives against a cave viper. ”
Even this many centuries later, Ryn could hear the agony that accompanied this particular memory.
“The viper here was on the small side, but the one we fought that day was twice its size—old and cunning. In the end, it was Kel’s father who came to our rescue.
He managed to kill the snake and save our lives, but in the process, he was bitten.
And despite the efforts of every healer in the kingdom, the venom eventually claimed his life—after months of watching him waste away before our eyes. ”
So much pain and guilt. And it explained a great deal about the person Xaviel had become. Honorable in his own way. Relentless, unyielding, and determined to protect his king, even at the cost of his own life.
“Kel took the crown far too young, and we were embroiled in war only a few short years later. But as his father lay dying, he begged me to protect his son, and so I have. So I always will.”
It was far more honesty than she’d expected from him, and Ryn began to wonder whether this curse might be affecting more than simply their environment.
“Now,” Xaviel continued, “do you want to let me see your leg, or do you want to die in agony over the course of many weeks? Infected and oozing as your body begins to fail, one piece at a time, with your mind the last to go?”
“Well, when you put it like that,” she muttered. Apparently the only way to get him to shut up about it was to swallow her instinctive protest and show the man her leg.
Her mother would faint, her aunt would have hysterics, and her brother would proclaim that he would never be able to find her a husband…
“See? It’s fine.” She drew up her layers of skirts to reveal a gash in her stocking, nearly the length of her forearm, beneath which was a long, red welt… with a single drop of blood beaded at the lowest end.
Oh. Well then. Ryn blinked as her vision went blurry and the blood drained from her head, leaving her listing heavily to one side as the blackness closed in.
Xaviel let out a whispered curse as he stared at the blood, then somehow managed to catch her right before she toppled over and hit her head on the cave floor.
“Thank you,” she murmured, her eyes shut tightly as he set her back upright—his touch far more gentle than she’d expected. “It’s not the venom, honestly. It’s… Well, it’s embarrassing, but it’s actually the blood. I can’t stand the sight of my own blood.”
“It might also be the venom,” Xaviel told her flatly. “Just keep your eyes closed and hold still for a moment.”
She did as he asked, braced for whatever he was about to do, and was startled to feel only the gentlest of touches on her ankle. A light pressure, a little warmth, and then…
“You can open your eyes now.”
She did, blinking down at her leg open-mouthed as she realized that even the welt had disappeared.
“You…” She looked up at him, feeling her eyes about to pop right out of her head in amazement. “You used magic.”
One eyebrow arched as he returned her stare. “You have seen me change into an entirely different creature four separate times, and this simple healing spell is what startles you?”
All right, he had a point. Her view of magic might be just a bit twisted by the biases in her field of study. In stories, shapeshifting was normal, but practical uses for magic seemed almost nonexistent.
“The truth is,” he admitted, “my healing talent is formidable against torn flesh and broken bones, but if any venom was able to enter your body, there will be nothing I can do.”
“Then there’s no point in worrying,” she said with a shrug. “We should focus on figuring out what is going on with this curse so we can win and get out of here for good.”
Get out of here…
“Unless,” she mused aloud, “we aren’t actually in a real place.
There’s a chance that none of this is as we perceive it.
The magic of the curse may be tricking our minds into believing our surroundings are real, when in fact we are experiencing them more like a shared dream.
” She brightened as the idea unfolded in her mind.
“A sort of separate realm where the enchantment makes the rules, but we are the only ones capable of changing events.”
“Or,” Xaviel countered dryly, “we accept that it does not matter. If that enchantress could convince Kel and me that we recalled a volcano, her magic is powerful enough to create very real consequences.”
He was right. One way or the other, they had to go on as if everything they faced was in deadly earnest.
“So we, what? Walk out of this cavern and see where it leads us?”
He shrugged and held out a hand.
She stared at it. Reached up. Placed her hand tentatively in his, and braced herself as he tugged her to her feet…
Only to pull them both into a spiral of golden light that blinded and confused her as they fell down, down, down… and landed in a heap with a startled oof as the breath was knocked out of her.
She lay there for a moment, struggling to breathe, until a voice rumbled beneath her ear.
“Are you planning to take a nap there, or may I get up now?”
Only for a mysterious second voice to hiss, “Shhhhh!”
Whether it was the aggressive shushing from persons unknown or the realization that she’d fallen right on top of a certain grim elf warrior, Ryn’s head came up with a jerk, and she rolled off him, landing on the hard floor with a thud that reverberated viciously up her spine.
That was going to be a nasty headache later.
But more importantly…
She looked to the left. Then to the right. Blinked a few times in utter disbelief, then rubbed her eyes to make sure she wasn’t hallucinating.
But the scene remained the same.
They were not in a cave. They were not even in Dunmaren.
They lay on a dusty floor between towering shelves covered in untidy stacks of books. Somewhere in the distance she heard a low murmur, the scuff of feet, and then silence. So much silence, she knew there was only one place they could be.
The library of the Royal University at Viali.