Aislin of Arianrhod (Land of Alainnshire) (32 page)

BOOK: Aislin of Arianrhod (Land of Alainnshire)
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He’d watched, fascinated, as the elf began to fire arrows down into the grounds below in one continuous blur of motion, so fast Roderic couldn’t follow it with his eyes. And then Tristan had jumped off the wall, pike in hand. It was the last they’d seen of him.

Rod, Bryce and Stanis cautiously made their way out through the courtyard and into the cemetery. They stopped abruptly when they heard the soft sounds of a woman crying near the back of the cemetery.

“Aislin,” Roderic breathed, his shoulders sagging with relief.

He found her on her knees, half-lying on Tristan’s body, sobbing as if her life were ending. Roderic got to his knees beside her. “Are you hurt?”

Her eyes were wild, pleading, wet with tears. “Roderic,
do
something! Please...
help
him!”

Roderic put two fingers to the side of Tristan’s neck and felt a weak pulse. “He’s alive, but just barely. I’ll get him upstairs and take a look at him.”

Roderic wasn’t sure he’d be able to lift him, but he was running on pure adrenaline. He hoisted Tristan over his shoulder and carried him off to the manor house.

Aislin pushed herself off the ground and turned, almost running into the man standing behind her. She lifted her eyes, her breath hitched, and she nearly went back to her knees.

She hungrily studied the face of the sandy-haired boy standing so close to her. He was young, tall, covered with dark leather armor bearing the crest of Wyndham. She stared into the depths of his eyes: warm brown and rich gold, so like another pair of eyes she’d known and loved.

“Fi..Fionn?” Aislin furrowed her brow, confused, as she reached to touch the cheek of the ghost in front of her.

“You must be my Aunt Aislin,” Bryce said, as he gathered her into his arms.

A fresh flood of tears soaked his leather breastplate as her nerves, stretched taut, finally shattered into a million tiny pieces.

Stanis pulled a little on the pike that protruded from Jariath’s neck. “Aislin, who did this?”

“I did!” she sobbed, her face still buried against her nephew.

“Nicely done!” chuckled Stanis. “I take it this is...was...Jariath?”

She nodded. She pushed herself slightly off Bryce’s chest and sobbed, “He can’t die...not now... he saved my life!”

“Who?” Bryce asked, confused.

“Tristan!”

“He saved your mother and Gwen too,” said Stanis. “Brought them to us as we marched into Arianrhod. Seems like a fine fellow. Didn’t know elves still existed in these parts.”

She was thankful to hear Gwen and her mother were safe. All they had to do now was retrieve Maeve and Devin from Oakenbourne, and everyone was healthy and accounted for. Except Tristan. The thought sent Aislin into fits of weeping again. Bryce looked helplessly over the top of her head at Stanis.

“Come. We’ll find out where Rod has taken him, and you can stay with him,” said Stanis.

Roderic laid Tristan down on a bed in a guest room upstairs in the manor house and examined him. He didn’t have a mark on him, yet he struggled for breath and had a dangerously slow heart beat. He had his doubts about Tristan’s survival, and he sensed that he’d have to approach Aislin carefully with that news. It looked as though she and the elf had forged some kind of connection. He had to find out for sure.

He heard Aislin come into the room, still sniffling. He turned and put his hand on her shoulders.

“I want you to understand that I didn’t leave you in his village willingly,” Roderic said, looking into her eyes. “When he offered to let me go, I demanded that he release you as well. He refused, and I knew you’d want me to get help any way I could. That’s the only reason I left without you. Nothing I said could convince him to release you with me. Before we go any further with this, I want to know if he hurt you in any way. If he did, he’s going straight to the dungeon.”

Aislin looked surprised, then started to laugh. “He didn’t hurt me, Rod. Not at all. I was furious when I found out that he’d sent you on without me. But I wasn’t
really
a hostage there. I think he was just curious about me. He wanted to keep me, and that was the only way he could think to do it.”

Roderic searched her eyes and could see she was telling him the truth. He gave her a little half-smile. The idea that Tristan would want to keep her didn’t seem so far-fetched to him.

“What’s wrong with him?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” said Roderic. “He just seems used up, spent and weak. He isn’t injured in any way. Do you remember what happened?”

Aislin looked down at the pale elf lying on the bed, and back up at him.

“Jariath broke my left forearm with his club. More than broke it, he
destroyed
it. The last I remember before I passed out was Tristan saying he had one other thing he could try.” She looked up at Roderic with tears in her eyes. “Somehow he healed my arm!”

“It must have taken a lot out of him to do it, if that’s what he did. I want you to be prepared, Aislin—he’s very weak. He may not make it.”

She pulled clenched fists up to her cheeks and said through gritted teeth, “Don’t say that!
Don’t say that
! He
has
to make it...he
has
to...”

“I love him!”

Chapter Thirty Seven

T
RISTAN WALKED SLOWLY ALONG THE shoreline of the ocean for hours before he finally sat down in the sand to wait. He was in Valhar, the Sylvan Land of the Dead. There was no one on the beach, but he instinctively knew someone would come for him.

He felt nothing: no pain, no sadness, only a bit of regret that he’d not been able to say a proper goodbye to Aislin.

It was beautiful here. He would now be able to see the elves who lived only in his memories. Yet, he felt a tug at his heart for what might have been.

He’d known for some time that he was hopelessly in love with Aislin, but he didn’t want to burden her with that when she had so much on her mind. It astonished him that he could feel that kind of love for a human, but she was one of a kind, a rare jewel. She would have to move on where she was, growing old, maybe marrying and having children. He wondered if he would be able to do that here.

He would never see Aislin again. Not being Sylvan, she couldn’t come to Valhar. He dropped his head into his hands with a painful sigh.

Eventually, he saw a shadow pass in front of him. He shaded his eyes with his hand and looked up.


Starr!”
Tristan jumped up and crushed his sister in his arms. She was warm, he could feel her heart beating. He held her tightly, enjoying her presence.

“Easy, Tristan!” Starr laughed, pushing him to loosen his grip. “Not so tight!”

He held her back away from him and looked her over. She was exactly as he remembered her.

Silken black hair draped to her slim waist. Her eyes, so like Tristan’s, were bright green, flecked with gold. Her face was delicate, mouth small but full. She’d been a beauty in life, she was no less beautiful in death.

“I’m surprised to see you here!” Starr kissed him on the cheek and smiled, her eyes bright.

“I’m a little surprised to find myself here. I’m so glad to see you.”

They sat down on the beach. “I know what you’ve done.” She turned to him. “You sacrificed yourself for her.”

“I have never used my healing powers before. I thought maybe I would survive the first time.”

She nodded and looked out at the ocean. “Some do not, as you know.”

Tristan inhaled deeply. He had played this moment over in his mind hundreds of thousands of times since his sister’s death. He knew exactly what he wanted to say to her. “I want you to know how sorry I am that I couldn’t save you from Madaheth.”

Starr looked surprised. “I am solely to blame for my death. I never should have gone back to the village for those books. I knew the danger. You’ve spent your life agonizing about something you had no control over.”

“Still, I was having the visions. If I just could’ve made sense of them...” He clenched his fists, the familiar sense of anger and frustration washing over him.

Starr put her arm through his and laid her head on his shoulder. “It was my time to die. And my leg is not twisted here! I run and walk just like everyone else.”

“Can you forgive me?”

“There’s nothing to forgive. Despite what you may think of your abilities, you are not so powerful that you can interfere with fate. Everyone’s life plays out exactly how it’s supposed to. My life was shorter than yours, but no less valuable. I have no regrets. I am content.”

Tristan hadn’t expected blame from her, but he hadn’t expected swift absolution either. The sword of self-pity and failure had been wrested away from him before he’d had a chance to impale himself on it. His sweet sister had disarmed him with gracious acceptance.

“Tell me about the human woman. Aislin.”

Tristan grinned widely. “Ah, Starr. My Aislin. She’s...beautiful...amazing...strong...smart. I’ve never met anyone like her. You would hate her because she’s human, but she’s not like any human I have ever met.”

Starr shrugged. “I don’t hate humans. No one here does.”

“Really?”

“Of course not! This is Valhar. Hate has no place here.”

He hadn’t thought of that. “Are you happy, Starr?”

“I have never been
un
happy. Not when I lived, and especially not here.”

“I miss your smile. I miss
you
.”

“I miss you too.” She smiled, and took his hand. ”Tristan, I’m fine. I really am. Some of us go easy, and some of us go hard. It was a little scary for me, dying, but not especially painful. I know you did everything you could to find me, but it just wasn’t meant to be. You have to accept that.” She looked thoughtful. “You ask my forgiveness, but you first need to forgive yourself. You’ve been punishing yourself for over a hundred years. It’s time to let it go.”

He covered his face with his hands. He’d carried it with him for so long. Could he forgive himself?

“Do you love her?” Starr asked.

Tristan was silent for a moment. “More than life itself.”

“She grieves for you.”

Pain pierced his heart. “Perhaps she’s better off without me.”

“Why do you say that?” He didn’t answer her, and she pressed him. “How is she better off without the elf who loves her more than life itself?”

“She would never be accepted by the Sylvan. We have spent so long hating humankind...”

“You...the Sylvan people... spend
too
much time hating. The humans who hurt us are long gone.”

“There are so many obstacles...”

“And they are obstacles
that
you
have put in place. You overthink things, Tristan. You always have. Loving someone is never wrong. If you love her, find a way to make it work.”

He smiled at Starr, a mischievous spark in his eyes. “Does
she
love
me
?”

“You’ll have to go back and find that out for yourself.”

“I can go back?” he asked, a little shocked.

“Yes. You haven’t gone beyond the shore. I came here to talk to you, not to bring you to us. You have much to accomplish yet. Fill your life with love and be happy. Do it for me.”

He nodded. “I love you, Starr. Hold onto that.”

“I love you too, brother. Now get out of here. You’ve got things to do!”

Tristan could feel himself lifting off the beach into the air, away from Starr. She waved up at him, her face illuminated with a smile as bright as a thousand suns. His heart felt light, lighter than it had in ages. Starr was fine...they were all fine. Maybe he could finally find some peace.

He gasped and opened his eyes. There was pressure on his chest, and for a moment, he was afraid to look. He cast his eyes downward, and was relieved to see the back of Aislin’s head. She was lying across his chest, sound asleep, her face turned away from him.

He didn’t move, just savoring the feel of her.

Loving someone is never wrong. Find a way to make it work.

He raised his hand, touched her hair, and said, “Wake up, sleepyhead.”

Aislin shot up with a start and stared at him, her mouth open. He chuckled weakly. “Surprised to see me?”

She flew off her chair and into the hall, calling for Roderic. And then she was back on the bed on her knees, both hands on his face, kissing him all over.

“I thought you were dead!” she gasped.

“I think I might have been for awhile. I was definitely in Valhar.”

“What?”

“Never mind. I’ll explain later.”

Roderic skidded around the corner and into the room, followed by Bryce and Stanis.

“I’m glad to see so many of you care about me!” Tristan laughed.

“What happened to you?” asked Roderic. “I didn’t want to say anything in front of Aislin, but I thought you were a goner.”

BOOK: Aislin of Arianrhod (Land of Alainnshire)
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