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Authors: Erica Cope

Lark (25 page)

BOOK: Lark
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“It's okay. I understand.” And I do. Despite the fact that I hate not knowing everything, I think he does have a good point. I probably would have really freaked out if I would have learned that I’m not only part elf, and therefore an outsider among humans, but also that I’m a rare Half-blood elf who happens to specialize in the same element as the scariest elf in all of elfish history.

             
“It is my fault. I didn't share all the information with you in the beginning. Maybe if I had, none of this would have happened.”

             
“Honestly, I don't think anything would have stopped me from trying to save Maddie,” I admit. I blame my mom. Who knew that being a drama-queen was an inherited trait? Or perhaps just a learned behavior?

             
“Perhaps,” he smiles sadly, undoubtedly reminiscing about my mother's tendency towards melodrama. “But you might have taken more precaution if you knew everything that was at stake.”

             
“But I did sorta know. Grey told me the prophecy in the garden, and I still made a rash decision.”

             
“I am aware,” he says rather crossly. “He confessed shortly after you were taken. But he also admitted that he didn't tell you the prophecy in its entirety.”

             
“He didn’t?” I frown. Now that I think about it I remember him saying that the first few lines of the prophecy were ominous before reciting them to me, but I didn’t even think about asking if that was everything. Which seems pretty stupid in hindsight. “Alright. Let's hear it.”

             
He is reluctant, as usual, to give me any more details. I know he isn’t intentionally trying to make me feel like a child by keeping me in the dark, but I can't help but resent the fact that key information is regularly being kept from me. He sighs and then pulls something out of his pocket. He hands me the folded piece of parchment.

             
“Do you just walk around with prophecies in your pocket?” I ask him dryly.

             
He chuckles and gestures for me to open it. So I do.

             
And I read:

A Half-blood child of a Sovereign One

Hidden in the Shadows until the time is right

Can heal the Cursed of their u
nderground prison

Then once more they will walk among the Light.

              I remember this part from when Grey recited it to me in the labyrinth, but the next few lines are new to me:

 

The One with Spirit holds the Key

To
See what others cannot See

They will bring Light to the Dark

Only to perish but for the Grace of the Lark.

 

              Well, that sounds promising.

I re-read the last line three times, my heart-rate increasing steadily each time. I feel like I can’t breathe. What does that mean?
Grace of the Lark? Lark? That can’t be just a coincidence. Could Jacoby have heard of the prophecy before? What does that mean if he has?

             
“I don't understand,” I finally tell him.

             
“Unfortunately, we rarely understand what these things mean until it's too late,” Alberico says with a sad smile. 

             
“No what I mean is, I already know I’m supposedly destined to break the curse. But it says ‘perish’, as in die? Is it saying that I’m going to die? Why is all this happening to me?”

Things cannot possibly suck even worse than they do right now.

              I know I sound like a whiny child. And I also know that things can, and will, get much, much worse. I feel like everything is my fault. If this prophecy is true...holy smokes...I probably should be locked up in a tower somewhere. Alberico is a king. I’m sure he could make it happen. I’m about to cry when Alberico places his hand gently underneath my chin.

             
“Mia, you have to know that I won’t let anything hurt you. Remember, you have been blessed by Sól,” he beams. “That means something. Everything will be fine.”

             
I head back to my room after I finish talking with Alberico. I need some time to process the rest of the prophecy. I know I will eventually want to talk to someone about all of this and my first instinct is to run to Grey. However, just the thought of him makes me sad right now, considering he hasn't even talked to me since the day I returned to Álfheimr. Funny how a few months ago, I was devastated when he told me we could only be friends even though I wanted us to be so much more. Now I would give anything to be “just friends” again.

             
With a sigh, I turn to throw myself onto my heavenly plush bed only to find someone else has already claimed my spot.

             
If it was anyone else besides Jacoby, I would probably be irritated that he was hogging up my comfortable bed while I was forced to either stand or sit on one of the pretty, but rather uncomfortable, chairs. However, the sight of him sprawled out so comfortably on my golden bedspread brings on an unexpected rush of affection. I only allow myself to enjoy the view for a few moments before I decided to wake him up before I get caught staring at him like some sort of creeper.

             
“Dude, what are you doing?” I ask as I gently tap his foot.

             
“Oh hey,” he says sleepily. “Just taking a nap.”

             
“You know you have your own room with your own bed right?”

             
“Yeah, but mine isn't as comfortable as yours,” he yawns. “And mine doesn't smell as nice. Yours smells like spring and... Christmas at the same time.”

             
“Cinnamon and honeysuckle?” 

             
“Yeah. Weird combination. But I like it.”

             
And just like that, he has me distracted. I don't know what it is about him, but it seems no matter what predicament I find myself in, when he is around it's hard to focus on anything but him and his captivating charm. Trying to deny it is a lost cause, so I give up.

             
“So what's the story we'll be telling everyone back home?” I ask, knowing that he and Grey have spent most of the day getting everything in order for our return.

             
“I'll be staying with Mr. Intensity...distant cousin or some nonsense.”

             
“Wait. You are actually going to be living under the same roof as Greyson?”

“Yep,” he nods
unethusiastically.

“But you guys hate each other!”

This could be really interesting, in a really disastrous sort of way.

             
“What makes you think that?” he asks, propping himself up on an elbow. I arch an eyebrow at him, and he suddenly remembers their little display of macho-ness from a few days ago. “On the contrary, that was just some good old fashioned male bonding, that's all.”

             
“That's what you are going with? Male bonding? It looked more like, what does Paul call it? A pissing contest?”

             
He shrugs like it's no big deal and lies back down with his hands resting behind his head.

             
“Okay…” I get up off of the chair and casually wander over to where my half-packed suitcase still lies at the foot of the massive bed. I try to convince myself that I really do need to finish packing, and that my location has nothing to do with feeling a need to be closer to the coppery haired boy still lolling on my bed. He’s lying so still and quiet that for a moment I think he might have fallen asleep again.

             
“Things are different now.” He startles me when he suddenly starts talking again. “We have a common goal. Well, I guess we’ve always had the same goal, haven't we?” He opens his eyes and looks at me with a penetrating gaze that causes my stomach to flip and my breath to hitch in my chest. Just before I start to hyperventilate, his expression lightens. He sits up and stretches loudly before hopping up off the bed.

             
“I'm going to raid the kitchen for something to eat, want something?”

             
“No, no, thanks,” I stammer.

             
“Okay, I'll be back to say good night later.” He surprises me by leaning down and kissing me sweetly on the forehead before heading out the door.

             
I sit down on my bed to rest for a moment. I wouldn't admit it to anyone of course, but I’m still a little weak. I notice the Cressey book is still on my night stand. I really do need to read that book, especially now. I pick it up to put in my suitcase when I hear a light tap on my door. There is no doubt in my mind who is waiting on the other side of that door. My heart starts pounding as I get up to answer it.

             
“Hello,” Grey greets me formally. “Do you have a minute?”

             
“Sure,” I say as I let him in.

             
He immediately walks over to the window that opens up to the balcony.

             
“What's up?” I ask. When he doesn't say anything I continue, “I haven't really seen you in a few days.”

             
“Would you take a walk with me?”

             
“Um....Sure?”

             
He leads me silently down to the garden labyrinth with my favorite yellow roses. I lean over and smell the sweet, fragrant petals. This is where he first told me about the prophecy. It's just after twilight, so it's even darker than before, but I’m not frightened here. I’m confident that I’m completely safe in Álfheimr. We stop walking once we reach the same little clearing he showed me last week. Was it really only a week ago? It seems like forever since then. He leads me over to the little bench in the center, but instead of sitting down next to me he walks a few more steps and stands with his back to me.

             
He doesn't say anything at first, but when he turns around to face me his eyes are warm and intense with longing. He closes the distance between the two of us before I even have time to think about what he is doing. He reaches for both of my hands and pulls me up to him.

             
He kisses me.

             
Soft and slow at first, as though testing the waters, but soon his hands grip me around my waist, pulling me closer to him. All at once, every single emotion that I’ve ever felt for him, everything that I have tried so hard to deny ever since he declared we could only be friends, everything comes rushing back to me and I kiss him back. My heart is racing as I press myself further into his embrace causing him to moan and pull me even closer in response.  How many times did I imagine kissing this boy?  Now that it’s finally happening, I discover that the real thing is so far beyond anything I have ever imagined. He pulls back slightly, resting his forehead gently against my own.

             
“I wish you could stay here with me,” his velvet voice whispers in my ear.

             
“For the night?” I ask him, feeling excited although a little scandalous.

             
“For always.”

             
“What do you mean?” I ask him, honestly curious now.

             
“What do you think I mean? I would have thought it to be quite obvious?” He gives me a smaller version of my favorite crooked smile, but it doesn't reach his eyes.

             
“But I thought…” I cut myself off, because despite his claims of a purely platonic relationship between the two of us, I have always felt like we were more. And apparently, I really wasn't the only one after all.

             
“Yes, as difficult as this is for both of us, we have to remain friends and nothing more. It is the right thing to do. I desperately want you to know me...the way I know you. I know everything about you, Mia. I watched you grow up, I’ve witnessed every milestone you’ve ever accomplished and every fear and obstacle you have conquered. I wish we could be more, you have no idea how badly I wish it was possible. But nothing can ever change between us. We can't be together. The logistics of it, well, they just don't make sense. If Alberico...if anybody ever found out...”

             
He turns away from me then and I am left staring at his back, more frustrated than ever. What the hell? One minute he is kissing me and telling me he wants to be with me and the next he is saying we shouldn't be together.

             
“I can't seem to think about anyone or anything else.” His indigo eyes are so sad.  All I want to do is put my arms around him, bury my face in his chest and inhale his apple and sandalwood scent. But I keep my distance, because a part of me knows that I need to protect my own heart. That this won't end well.

             
“I should get you back to the castle before someone notices you are gone,” he says quietly.

BOOK: Lark
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