The War of Six Crowns: The Heir's Choice

Leaving Sylmion

Callan held onto Kaela as their horse cantered forward. Its hooves beat in cadence with Quinlan's stallion next to them.

The desire to yank off her blindfold and see Sylmion one last time burned at her fingertips, but she resisted. Nordians were secretive. They wouldn't take well to her defying their need to keep their secrets. Kaela had told Callan much more than anyone else would have wanted her to know, so she might not have minded. Quinlan would probably have a fit.

Lovely, having to travel with someone only marginally worse than Darrion. At least it seemed like the trip would be short. Her stomach fluttered. How short was this trip? Long enough for her to turn back if she had second thoughts?

No. She wouldn't have second thoughts. Absolutely not. She'd made the right decision. No matter how grim Gawain had sounded, she needed to go to the elves because her mother had been one. It was the only way to find out about her mother's past. It was Callan's last hope of finding out who she was.

A princess?

Maybe.

The elvish king seemed to think so. The one time Callan had met him, he did resemble her. It had to be so. He wouldn't have claimed her as his grandchild for no reason, would he?

No.

The fluttering turned into a storm of doubts, threatening to drown her in panic. What if everything Gawain had said about her grandfather was true? What if her mother had kept her from the elves for a reason?

Maybe the entity she kept caged inside her would break loose and hurt the king, just because he was the last family member she knew of. It wasn't impossible. It had killed her parents. It had harmed and hurt dozens of people she liked, didn't like, and didn't even realize existed, just because.

Or worse, because she liked where she was. What if she liked her family? It would be like signing their death warrants.

No. She'd learned. She could keep the entity in check. All she needed to do was stay calm. Calm. Ha. She wasn't calm now, and she hadn't even left Sylmion.

"Something wrong?" Kaela asked in Nordian, jerking Callan's thoughts out of the maelstrom of panic she'd inadvertently started. Hearing her father's language brought her a measure of peace.

"No," she said, keeping her voice airy. In reality, Callan oozed gratefulness for Kaela's question. The girl, for being a badass fighter chick, was an absolute sweetheart.

Quinlan snorted.

"I'm fine," Callan repeated, gritting her teeth. Why, of all people, did she have to go to Alfen Cairn with the guy who'd implied she was an easy lay? After she'd stayed up all night to save him from the terrible wound stretching up half his abdomen.

At least Kaela accompanied them, so Callan wouldn't have to deal with the creep alone.

"So, I'm a little nervous," she bit off. "You'd be too if you were going to meet your grandfather—a king no less—for the first time in your life."

Technically, this would be the second time, but the first was so brief it couldn't count.

Thankfully, Quinlan kept his mouth shut.

Kaela lightly patted her knee. "If you don't like the elves, you can always come back with us."

"So you're going all the way to Aldrithe with me?"

"We are. God help them if you want to come back and they bar your way."

Callan smiled, warmed by Kaela's fierce loyalty. It was true. Callan could come back to Nordaine at any time, thanks to the key hanging around her neck under her jacket. King Conal had given it to her, and with it, an unprecedented choice to return.

Nordaine and quite a few other places were connected by a magic hallway filled with doors. Having a key meant she could go back to Nordaine, if she could find a way into the hallway first.

But she couldn't return any more than she could stay in Alfen Cairn. No matter what she wanted, she simply couldn't risk the safety of others by living with them. Or more specifically, by liking their company while living with them.

"I'm sure it won't be that bad," Callan said, more to herself than anyone else.

Quinlan's grunt set her teeth on edge once more.

"Anyway," she said, acting like he didn't exist, "are we going through the hallway that brought me here?"

"We are," Quinlan said, obviously unwilling to be ignored. More's the pity. "We're going to use a door to Alfen Cairn that's always unlocked."

That was too interesting to ignore. "Why would they leave it open?"

"They don't exactly have a choice in the matter," Quinlan said. "A few centuries ago, there was a war for the keys, because everyone realized that he who held the most keys dominated the world, strategically. Keys got lost in the conflict, and replicas don't work, because of the doors' magic."

"Oh." Callan frowned beneath her blindfold. "Who won?"

"The war?" Kaela chuckled. "No one. It was so bloody and expensive, everyone had to stop or destroy themselves. In the end they declared a truce, and the Master made sure each country got its remaining keys back."

"Who's the Master?"

"The Master Mage," Quinlan said, sounding regretful. "Unfortunately, the War of the Keys had damaged his order of magicians irreparably, which left him weakened. Some say it caused the impossible to happen and that he died."

"Horrible."

"Yeah. Personally, I think he just tired of the shit and bickering in Tardith, and took a prolonged holiday. I know I would."

"But isn't Nordaine part of Tardith?" Callan asked, confused.

"Yes, but we're not inclined to mix with its squabbles. Luckily for us, elves had once built a huge stone wall to protect their lands. Now we use it to keep ourselves apart."

"Why would you do that?"

"You don't want to know," Quinlan drawled, "but let's just say that all involvement Tardithian politics ever inspire within Nordaine is to go take a bath and wash off the filth."

The horses came to a halt. A metallic click reached her ears. A lock. The sound jarred her, bringing home the strange reality she now lived. Eight days ago, she was a miserable foster kid from London. Now...now she was about to find out about her elvish family history in another world. And it all started because a red-clad army had tried to kidnap her and force her through a doorway just like the one Quinlan must have been opening.

Nerves hit her again and her breath caught in her throat. Nordaine felt so much safer now, compared to the rest of Tardith with its politics and unknown histories.

No.

She had to go to Alfen Cairn, and she would do so calmly, or she'd wake the entity. Which would be a complete nightmare.

Glad to see Callan again? What do you think about Quinlan? 

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