The Elven King Read Free Page B

sheet of some kind of hardened, blackened earth, although, like the house and chariot, the earth also lacked any healthy shimmer of life.
    The entire thing made Aranion feel ill. But his curiosity was stronger than his disgust, so he kept watching.
    Time moved differently in the mortal world. He wasn’t a priest, so of course he’d never studied the intricacies of how it worked. But as the afternoon progressed into evening, time seemed to move a step and a half faster.
    Aranion felt more than half tempted to step through the gate. Whatever lay beyond had to be better than dying in the desert – or, worse, his intended marriage.
    But the punishment for an elf’s crossing into the mortal realm without permission was far more severe than even his current fate…
    No, he decided. He’d do better to keep moving. He started, reluctantly, to turn away.
    It was at that moment that Aranion caught glimpse of the mortal from his dream.
    She stepped out of the house carrying, of all things, a bucket -- though for what purpose, Aranion had no idea. In fact, he wasn’t even sure how he’d recognized her. In the dream, she’d been all in darkness, and he remembered her more as features and sensation than as a full woman. But this was her, he had no doubt at all. She possessed that fleeting, inimitable mortal beauty: wide dark eyes set in a heart-shaped face, lush curves, and warm, inviting skin….
    Wasn’t it elves that were supposed to bewitch mortals? Obviously, the legends had it wrong. Because as the woman stepped closer to the gate, in her ill-fitting mortal clothes, Aranion felt himself more and more strongly captive to his desire for her.
    He held his palm up as if to touch her through the portal. Then he caught his breath: she seemed to be watching the gate. Could she see him? It was rare, but not unheard-of, for a mortal to have fairie sight…
    The woman’s eyes widened. She said something, though Aranion couldn’t hear it – and, without a geis to make her words intelligible, he wouldn’t have understood her anyway.
    Barely thinking what he did, Aranion smiled, keeping his hands open to show he meant no harm. Maybe he could convince her to cross to him?
    Even as he thought it, he knew the idea was unconscionably cruel. What did he have to offer her but an ugly death? And that was without even considering what her disappearance would mean to the people she’d leave behind. He had nothing at all to offer her, beyond a dream…
    Perhaps a pair of dreams, because as she came closer, he recognized something in the angles of her face -- the child he’d seen at his adulthood rite. Aranion stared, shocked. It should have been impossible -- he had no connection with her. This was why only priests had leave to toy around with the gates that connected worlds! The magic was much too large for him. Too dangerous.
    And yet…
    At that very moment, the woman turned away.
    Maybe she had rejected him, Aranion thought, feeling his heart sink. Or maybe she had never really seen him at all…
    But then he realized she had turned because another of the mortal chariots had pulled up beside her house.
    It was a large, ugly shell of glittering black and silver with big, bulbous wheels. A metal grill on the front looked like the lower teeth of a wild boar. A pair of glowing eyes sat on either side of the teeth.
    No animal was visibly pulling it, so it must have had some magic propelling it inside –clearly, mortals had advanced greatly since Aranion’s childhood lessons, he thought.
    The vehicle was driven without respect. It avoided the hard-packed earth clearly meant for its use, and instead drove straight up onto the grass.
    The woman took a step back. The chariot’s doors opened, and a man stepped out. He was short and burly, with loose clothing that did little to hide the thick muscles of his arms and neck.
    The man shouted something at the woman. Aranion wished he could hear it… although, from the mortal’s expression and the