Alora: The Portal: Alora Series, #2

By Tamie Dearen

If one of them dies, they both die.

 Bound together as soulmates, something compels Alora and Kaevin to abandon the safety of their refuge for the dangers of Kaevin’s realm.

 The soulmates arrive in the midst of a raging battle as Stone Clan warriors defend their capital, an attack made more deadly by the pervasive evil of her father. Alora and Kaevin face mortal danger as they fight against man and magick to preserve Kaevin's home and heritage.

 For Alora's father will have her allegiance. Or her death.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tamie Dearen
• Release date: Dec 31, 2015
• ISBN: 9781540158284

Book preview

~ Prologue ~

HE ALMOST JUMPED OUT OF HIS SKIN as a voice behind him interrupted his concentrated efforts.

My name is Bastaeno, and I’m the custodian of manuscripts here at the Craedenza. Do you need some guidance or interpretation? The kind-faced man gazed down as he spoke, eyeing the stacks of scrolls and parchments splayed across the table in disarray.

No, the boy replied, dismissing him without a second glance.

I’m gifted in language, so perhaps I can be of aid.

No, I’m gifted in language as well, but thank you for your offer. He continued to study the scroll with the strange markings, unwilling to admit he couldn’t read the words.

Eh-hem... That particular scroll has yet to be deciphered by any of our scholars, even the most gifted in intelligence and language. Yet you understand the words recorded?

He hesitated. No, I don’t, but I can read all of these other scrolls. He lifted his chin, glaring in defiance.

That’s quite remarkable for such a young man. How many years have you?

I have eighteen years.

Bastaeno lifted his brows. Eighteen years? You are even younger than I imagined. So you came into your major power only two years ago. Am I correct? And already you can understand these challenging writings? You are extremely gifted, young man. Is your father gifted in language as well? Or wisdom?

No, he’s gifted in weapons and strength, as is my brother.

How extraordinary. He must be quite proud of you... so accomplished having so few years.

The young man ducked his head to hide the heat in his face. Not really. My father believes language isn’t a particularly useful gift because we’ve already learned all there is to know from the scrolls and parchments stored at the Craedenza.

Bastaeno let out a belly laugh. Of course he is jesting. After all these years, we are only scratching the surface of the knowledge within these walls. Everyone in Tenavae knows that. Your father approved for you to come and study here, did he not? That must mean he wishes you to grow and enhance your giftedness. Am I right?

Knowing he’d left on his quest without his father’s permission, the young man avoided the question. How did you know I traveled to the Craedenza?

Glaenshire is a small community. Bastaeno shrugged. Have you traveled far? And have you a place to stay? My wife and I have a small abode, but you are welcome to stay with us while you study the scrolls.

You didn’t see my eyes, or you wouldn’t offer such a thing. I am Water Clan.

Bastaeno squinted at his face in the candlelight. Blue eyes—so they are! I’ve seen very few Water Clansmen in my days. Well met, young man! Well met!

Bastaeno grasped his hand and shook with such vigor his shoulder protested the assault.

Well met, he mumbled, extricating his hand.

Although most clansmen distrust one another, we believe differently here. In Glaenshire, few of us are gifted in weapons or dexterity, and therefore we aren’t prone to battle one another. Most of us are scholars, gifted in wisdom and language. We learned long ago the color of a man’s eyes is no indication of value or the intent of the heart.

Your eyes are grey—I’ve never seen grey eyes.

I’m Air Clan, as is my wife. Most of my clan lives very far to the north, in the mountains. Like you, I came to study the manuscripts, but we chose to stay and make our home here. Perhaps you will do the same.

No! I’m going back to Water Clan as soon as I’ve learned all there is to learn at the Craedenza.

No offense intended, Bastaeno held up his hands. I simply wished to let you know you’d be welcome in Glaenshire. For the most part, we’re a very peaceful community where people from all clans have lived in harmony for centuries. Perhaps not as peaceful as Serenshire, but a close second for certain.

Serenshire? I thought Serenshire was a myth.

No, indeed. I’ve seen Serenshire with my own eyes. My father took me there when I had but five years. His eyes glazed as he stared into the dark recesses of the room. The city of peace. It’s more than a city, in actuality. Beyond the city the countryside stretches as far as one can see.

Can you tell me how to find it? His heart pounded in his chest. This could be the very discovery he needed to finally impress his father. Surely he would be proud when he returned home having discovered the secret location of Serenshire. No one else in all of Water Clan could accomplish such a feat.

Sadly, no. Bastaeno frowned. It’s quite complicated to enter Serenshire. You can only find it if you’ve been there before. Though you might be standing an arm’s width from the gate, you won’t see it unless the gatekeeper opens it from within. And even then, your group must be judged worthy to enter.

Worthy?

Yes. You must give valid reason for your visit, and your party must represent all of the clans: Water, Stone, Forest, Air, and Sun. So even should you find the entrance, you wouldn’t be admitted.

I see. He couldn’t hide his disappointment.

Bastaeno patted his shoulder. Come. The sun dips low, and I know you must be weary after your long journey. Rest at my home tonight, for all of these will be awaiting you tomorrow, exactly the same as today and centuries past. He waved his hand over the vast archives. What is your name, young traveler?

My name is Drakeon BarVinnasae.

Vinnasae? Is your father the leader of Water Clan?

His jaw tightened. Yes, that’s my father. He calls me Vindrake.

~ 1 ~

THE DOOR BURST OPEN, and a gust of wind hit the lamp flame, throwing wild shadows across the walls of the council room. A young man sprinted into the midst of the circle, halting at the feet of the clan chief, bent over and panting for air, his sandy blond hair escaping from its leather tie.

Water Clan! Water Clan is coming! Jireo spoke between gasps.

How many did you see? How far away? Graely raised his hand to quiet the sudden uproar that broke out in the meeting. His mind raced. It was happening, just as they’d feared. Vindrake and the Water Clansmen he controlled were deadly opponents, but a defense plan was already in place. Would it be effective? Would all of Stone Clan cooperate? How many would be lost in the mêlée to come?

They were just outside the Laegenshire forest on the main road. I only saw the first wave on horseback, at least two hundred.

Did we not have scouts guarding the bridge? Graely asked Morvaen, his weapons master. How could they come so close undetected?

With a grim expression Morvaen shook his head, clomping on heavy boots as he paced. Yes, we had twenty guards posted. It can’t bode well that not a single one made it back to report the incursion.

I fear they were overcome by some dark trick of Vindrake’s shamans. I should have been there to protect them. Nordamen tipped his head toward his son. Bardamen could have handled the defense of Laegenshire in my absence.

You know we need both our shamans to carry out our plan. No doubt we will face more than one Water Clan shaman in the upcoming battle. Making these decisions weighed heavy on Graely’s shoulders. Every choice seemed to save one life at the expense of another.

We’re wasting time. Bardamen emphasized his words with an urgent tone.

Yes, the army is approaching fast on the main road from the south. And they make no sound as they move, Jireo added.

A silence shroud, said Nordamen. It takes a powerful shaman to hold silence over so many. They were expecting to surprise us, and we could use that in our favor. Yet I recommend we warn the clan and call in the warriors from the countryside.

Agreed. Graely cut his eyes to Morvaen.

With a bob of his chin and a corresponding bounce of the tight black curls on his head, the weapons master moved to open the door, bellowing out, Sound the horn! Moments later, a two-toned moan resonated from the courtyard. Faint answering tones could be heard in the distance.

Two hundred horseman in the advance group. We can only guess how many Water Clan warriors follow behind. We’ll be outnumbered for certain. Morvaen spoke as he clomped back across the plank floor.

But others will come. At least eight hundred have pledged to defend Laegenshire. They know if Laegenshire falls, all of Stone Clan will be defenseless against Vindrake. Graely put an assurance in his voice he didn’t quite feel.

Yet with so little warning, only the closest have time to join us. If only Alora were here to help.

Graely knew Morvaen’s offhand comment wasn’t as innocent as it seemed. He and his weapons master had opposed each other in the council’s discussion concerning how and when Alora’s talents should be utilized. He clenched his jaw until his teeth hurt, but held his peace.

Morvaen, there’s no need to rehash this subject, Nordamen scolded.

I know we must protect them at all costs. Yet if Laegenshire is defeated and Stone Clan falls to Vindrake, there will be nothing for Kaevin and Alora to return to. Morvaen stuck out a stubborn chin.

The council debated the risks, and this was their decision. We’re wasting time discussing it now. Graely didn’t mention what they all knew... his had been the deciding vote to keep Kaevin and Alora hidden away in the other realm until Alora had more control over her powers.

Morvaen’s lips blanched white with pressure before he turned, striding from the room. I must ready the warriors.

Nordamen stood beside Graely as they watched Morvaen’s bulk disappear into the night. Don’t worry. We’ve made the correct decision concerning Alora and Kaevin, and our plan of defense is sound.

Graely forced his tight fists to unclench. Yet I know if Vindrake’s men defeat us tonight, all is lost. And it will be on my head.

Nordamen’s thin hand squeezed his arm with surprising strength. "Have faith, Graely. We are on the side of good. We fight to defend all we know and love. The warriors of Water Clan fight for evil reasons. Surely that gives us an advantage. Remember... Fight for good, and evil will fall."

Graely choked back his emotion. "Sometimes the words feel empty, but I will say them just the same. Fight for good, and evil will fall."

Now is not the time to lose your faith. The lanky shaman squinted one eye.

It isn’t lost... only hiding. Never fret, it will appear when I need it most.

I must reinforce the wards. Nordamen stepped quickly toward the doorway, flipping his straight blond hair back as he glanced over his shoulder toward his son, who’d been intent on their conversation.

Bardamen jumped to follow, his muscular form and jet-black hair a stark contrast to his father, though their facial features bore a striking similarity. He turned back before slipping out the door. I’ll be ready to block the moonlight upon your signal, Graely.

Graely considered the talented pair as they exited. Stone Clan could ill afford to lose either of its shamans in this perilous battle.

The room emptied quickly. Jireo was nowhere to been seen, probably already at his post with the other archers atop the wall near the gate. He was gifted with the bow and arrow, but Graely hated allowing a boy with but seventeen years to join in such a battle. Barely two moons had passed since Jireo had recovered from a near fatal injury in the last fight against Vindrake’s men.

A hand clapped him on his shoulder, and he turned to face Laethan’s grave eyes. We’ll be preparing the healing house for the wounded. Take heart, Graely. At least Alora and Kaevin are out of Vindrake’s reach.

He gave a grim nod. Thankfully, his son and Alora were secure in the other realm. Though the pair would’ve been invaluable in this battle, they were too vulnerable as long as they remained soulmates. Dreading the inevitable death toll on his people, he breathed a prayer. With one last glance around the council room, empty of all but dancing shadows, he stepped into the cool night air.

*****

As top victor in the Water Clan training rings, Daegreth rode near the front of the warrior company. His iron belt chafed his waist, its weight shifting with the horse’s cadence. All the riders had been fitted in iron to protect against the possibility of attack by Laegenshire’s new bearer, Alora. Of course, killing Alora was their main objective, but Vindrake predicted she’d be hidden in another realm. Daegreth had gleaned this tidbit of information through close attention to council meetings while acting as Vindrake’s personal guard, even as he pretended boredom.

Adrenaline coursed through his veins as he contemplated the upcoming battle. He had no fear of the pain to come. No, he welcomed the death that would free him of the malevolent blanket smothering his consciousness. He hoped he could find someone strong enough to kill him before he took the lives of too many Stone Clansmen. He hated Vindrake with a vengeance and hated the constraint of his bloodbond even more.

Death was his only opportunity to escape Vindrake’s dark power. Perhaps his bond would not prevent him from making loud oaths and bold shouts at the Laegenshire defenders. If he attracted enough attention, an arrow might even kill him before his sword met flesh of any kind. But God help any warrior who came within reach of his blade, for he was honed and trained to slaughter, an effective knife wielded by Vindrake’s own hand.

They rode the horses in compact formation, with the shaman, Malphas, cloaking any sound that might escape to alert their enemies. Laegenshire had a strong natural defense from their southern Water Clan neighbors, a forest too dense to penetrate on horseback. The road led to the west wall of the shire, a barrier of precisely cut interlocking stone, three arm-spans high, funneling all traffic to the thick wooden gate. Until the gate was breached, Malphas would shield the entire group of warriors from attack by arrow, stone, or fire. Yet the size of his protection was limited, causing the warriors to remain clumped together. Laegenshire would have permanent wards in place, covering everything inside the stone walls.

The moan of distant horns interrupted his reverie.

We’ve been discovered! shouted Craeven, the weapons master. Drop the cloaking, Malphas—we will not catch them unaware. Now we must hurry before they can increase their preparedness. Ramgate to the forefront!

Shouts rang out, passing the word through the ranks. The wagons carrying the huge iron-capped log and burly ramsmen rumbled to the front of the company. No idle conversation passed between warriors as they followed the well-trodden road sandwiched between the tall evergreen trees and thorny thickets.

Daegreth’s horse’s flanks were heaving now, sweat soaking through his pants. Breaking through a clearing, he had his first glimpse of the impressive white stone walls of Laegenshire glistening in the moonlight. Approaching the gate, the group fanned out. One horseman strayed too far away from the main company, and a cry of pain pierced the night.

Glare it! Craeven’s upper lip curled as he regarded the warrior who lay on the ground with an arrow protruding from his chest. Stay together! Stay inside the shielding.

Thung! 

The heavy log thudded against the massive gate.

Thung!

Daegreth moved toward the front, anxious to be one of the first through the gate once the ram had accomplished its goal.

Thung!

"You... Craeven gestured at him with his sword. To the rear with the rest of the honor guard. I want my best warriors under the shield as long as possible."

Thung!

Daegreth urged his horse to the back, compelled to obey the order, while grinding his teeth in frustration. With a screech, the wooden gate splintered under the repeated onslaught. His heart beat a frantic rhythm inside his chest. Please God, don’t let me kill anyone before I die.

Thung!

As the gate shrieked its final surrender, the moon disappeared and the landscape plunged into darkness.

*****

Jireo fought to control his trembling hands while fingering the arrow nocked in his bow. Waiting was the hardest part. Once the battle began, his nerves would settle and his actions would be instinctive. He reached over his shoulder, checking his supply of arrows again. His adjacent companions seemed equally tense, shifting their feet and flexing their arms, their eyes trained on the wooden gate.

Thung!

Their perch quaked beneath their feet as the ram heaved against the gate. Only one enemy warrior had been foolish enough to stray outside the shaman’s defense, so the archers didn’t waste their arrows. Instead they waited, each in their assigned positions.

Thung!

Waiting.

Thung!

The first gate pieces splintered on the gate. He cringed as the wood screamed in protest.

Thung!

The ram broke through.

Blackness fell.

His sudden blindness was disconcerting, despite being aware of the plan. Bardamen’s block of the moonlight was complete. Not a single ray escaped to give outline to their surroundings.

Outside the gates, voices rose in panic. A flickering light appeared, trickling through the shattered gate, growing brighter as two Water Clan warriors stepped inside carrying torches. In a unison dance, both men toppled to the ground with arrows blooming from their chests. More warriors poured through the opening, illuminated by the fallen torches.

Jireo’s hands were steady as his arrows flew in deadly precision. With orchestrated perfection, the bowmen continued their slaughter until the bodies piled up, smothering the torches and blocking the entrance.

As darkness once again settled over the gateway, he strained to see the incoming enemy. Evidently recognizing their folly, the Water Clan warriors abandoned their torches, feeling their way inside the blackness. The archers shot blindly at the murmured voices and scuffling boots, with only cries of pain to indicate their accuracy. Then the pings of metal against metal revealed some of the new warriors were successfully defending themselves with sharpstops.

A scream emanated from one of the Laegenshire archers—a female voice. Jireo’s heart clenched. Was that Finnia?

Fall back! called the lead archer. Jireo released a final arrow before dropping to a crouch. He was satisfied to hear someone cry out near the gate.

Having made the most of Bardamen’s artificial blackness, the archers retreated from their vulnerable position.

The full moon reappeared with light almost as bright as day.

*****

Alora sat on the couch beside Kaevin, their fingers intertwined, marveling she still got a tingle from his touch after more than two months of being together every day. I wonder if it will ever grow old?

Quick... let me kiss you while Beth and Wesley are in the kitchen. Kaevin’s breath tickled her ear, sending a shiver down her spine.

We already kissed this morning in the stables, so we shouldn’t need to do it now.

I think we should kiss again, just to be safe. His dimples danced under his sparse beard as he leaned toward her. With eyes closed and breath held, she waited for the caress of his lips.

The lovebirds are at it again, Wesley.

Alora gasped and Kaevin pulled back, sending Beth a deadly glare.

You don’t have to stop on our account; it’s not like we haven’t seen you two kiss before, about a million times. I can’t believe you’re blushing, Alora. You both kissed in front of everybody and his dog when you were transporting around Tenavae.

"That was different. We had to kiss because transporting drained our energy."

"Oh, I get it. You only blush when someone sees you kissing for fun. Beth sank into the soft couch cushions on the other side of Alora, popping the top on a can of Coke. She tucked a lock of wavy, shoulder-length auburn hair behind one ear. We’re not watching. Go ahead and kiss."

Alora opened her mouth to protest, but a spike of pain shot through her head, eliciting a groan instead. She squeezed her eyes shut, pulling her hand from Kaevin’s to massage her temples. Without looking she sensed Kaevin reacting with the same kind of headache.

What just happened? asked Wesley.

That’s what I was wondering; I have no idea. Kaevin? Do you know what’s going on? she asked, slitting her eyes open to peer his direction.

He squeezed his words through tight lips, holding his head between his hands. I don’t know the cause, but it must be something with the soulmate bond.

I guess you’d better try kissing again. We won’t watch. Right, Wesley? Look, I’ve got my eyes closed. Beth’s hands covered her eyes, peek-a-boo style.

Considering her head felt like someone was driving spikes into it, Alora thought she’d be willing to kiss Kaevin in front of anyone... even Uncle Charles, despite his persistent objections to any display of affection between them. Kaevin wasted no time complying with Beth’s suggestion, moving to press his lips to hers in a gentle kiss. Though her heart sped up and warmth spread down her neck, the pounding headache remained unchanged.

My head still hurts. What about you, Kaevin? Any better?

No improvement.

I’ve got an idea, said Wesley, as he dashed off toward the kitchen. Alora’s mind blurred from the pain until Wesley returned, handing each of them a Ziploc bag, filled with ice. Try holding this on the side of your head. It always works for me.

Alora felt the pain beginning to dissipate as she pressed the bag to her temple, shivering as a few drops of water condensed and dripped down her face and onto her neck. Brilliant, Wesley. I think it’s working.

Already? Seems awfully quick. Settling back into his chair, Wesley lifted a can of root beer to his lips.

Truly, the pain’s better, though not completely gone, Kaevin agreed, holding the ice to his head with one hand and, with the other, reaching to lock fingers with Alora.

What can it be? Alora mused. It’s not like I’ve done anything to draw on the soulmate bond. We’ve been here for two weeks without going back to Laegenshire or bringing anyone to Montana.

And we’ve been holding hands from the moment we left the school, Kaevin added.

Maybe you’re both coming down with something. Maybe it’s the flu. Wesley scratched his head. I heard there’s a virus going around.

What’s a virus? asked Kaevin.

It’s an illness caused by microscopic germs. And it’s contagious, too.

What’s contagious? And what’s mico... What’s that other word you said?

Wesley wrinkled his nose. Uhmm... Contagious means you can pass the sickness from one person to another, and microscopic means it’s so small you have to look in a microscope to see it. You remember we used a microscope in Biology lab?

Alora’s heart broke for Kaevin as she read the frustration on his face. The transition to high school in Montana had been difficult. He was barely passing his classes, despite his intelligence. If not for constant tutoring from Wesley and Beth, he would’ve already failed. They’d discovered early on Kaevin wasn’t keen on accepting instruction from Alora.

However, everyone agreed it was best for Kaevin to remain close to her throughout the day. In addition to reducing the risk posed by an extended separation, being near each other provided opportunity to hold hands frequently. Uncle Charles preferred handholding so that no kissing would be required to catch up, as he described it. He wouldn’t be happy to know they’d been sneaking a kiss every morning in the stables.

I think what’s getting passed around is a stomach virus instead of a flu virus. At least that’s what Janna had, said Beth. Does your stomach hurt, too? Or do you feel nauseous?

No, just our heads. Right, Kaevin?

He nodded, wincing at the motion.

Maybe it’s a sinus infection giving you a sinus headache, Beth suggested.

What’s a sinus infection? asked Kaevin.

You have these holes in your head, called sinuses... Beth began.

Holes in my head?

I’ll explain later, said Alora, squeezing his hand. It’s not important.

Both of them getting a sinus infection at the same time? Wouldn’t that be a big coincidence? asked Wesley.

Don’t you feel each other’s pain and stuff like that? Maybe one of you has a sinus infection and the other one feels the pain from it, said Beth.

Kaevin screwed his mouth to the side. I’m not certain the soulmate bond shares pain from illness, although I suppose it might. We still haven’t learned a great deal about soulmates.

Wait! In her excitement, Beth gestured with the Coke in her hand, splashing on the wood floor. Oops. Sorry... I’ll clean that up. But did you say you’ve been in Montana for two weeks straight? You didn’t go back last weekend?

That’s right, Alora confirmed.

And every other weekend you’ve gone back?

Yes, I suppose so.

"That’s got to be it. It’s because you didn’t go back to Laegenshire. Maybe the air is slightly different there and after a while something builds up and makes his head hurt. Like, maybe there’s more carbon dioxide or something like that. Maybe Kaevin has a different physiology because he’s from another realm, and he needs a higher percentage of oxygen. And your head hurts because you’re soulmates."

Beth’s smile grew wide. Maybe we could fix this with a little oxygen. Let’s see... Where could we get some medical oxygen?

I don’t know, Beth. Wouldn’t he be tired or something if he wasn’t getting enough oxygen? Wesley argued.

I don’t think so. I think his only symptom might be a headache.

Technically, isn’t Alora from the same realm as Kaevin? Both her parents were from that realm, and she’s never had a problem with our oxygen level. Wesley opened his laptop and tapped on the keyboard. Let’s see. Symptom-Checker. Headache. Is it, ‘pressure or squeezing, stabbing or burning, or throbbing’?

Yes, that describes it quite well, said Kaevin.

No, you’re supposed to pick one of those. Let’s try ‘stabbing or burning.’ Wesley tapped the keyboard again.

Why don’t you Google ‘soulmates’ and ‘headaches’ and see what you get. Beth rolled her eyes.

A worrisome thought popped into Alora’s mind. Her grandmother had been giving her lessons with daily exercise assignments to develop her gift as a bearer, but she’d neglected her practice. Suddenly, the idea of disappointing her grandmother seemed worse than having a stabbing headache. Kaevin, can you get us some ibuprofen from the kitchen cabinet? I’ll send you in there.

His eyes widened. No, that’s not necessary. I can simply walk.

Please? How am I going to get better if I don’t practice?

Our heads already hurt, so perhaps you shouldn’t use your gift and further drain the soulmate bond.

Kaevin’s a chicken, Beth teased. Bwaak, bwaak, bwaak, bwaaaaaaak.

Kaevin’s eyes narrowed. "Why don’t you let her transport you to the kitchen?"

No, thanks. I don’t have a death wish. Beth dissolved into giggles. She didn’t even look ashamed when Alora gave her the evil eye.

Come on, she can’t be that bad, said Wesley. She transported all of us to Tenavae and back, multiple times. Surely she can send you into the kitchen without a problem.

That’s right, Alora agreed, forgetting her headache as she felt Kaevin relenting. Anyway, I have a lesson with Grandmother tomorrow, and she’ll be mad if I haven’t practiced since our last lesson.

You could transport Wesley into the kitchen to retrieve the headache circles, Kaevin suggested.

Kaevin, you know I’m better at moving you than other people.

Uhmm.... yes. However, our heads are feeling better with the ice, so perhaps we don’t even need the circles.

I-bu-pro-fen, Alora corrected. And I still need the practice. Grandmother has our next session planned for tomorrow.

With a dramatic sigh, Kaevin rose to his feet, bending in a defensive crouch while using one hand to keep the ice against his temple. I’d appreciate if you didn’t throw me on top of the table this time.

I’m sending you right in front of the kitchen sink. The ibuprofen is with the other medicine in the cabinet to the left of the sink. Alora tamped down her nerves, trying to appear confident. Why didn’t I practice this week? Closing her eyes to concentrate, she set the bag of ice on the floor by her feet. She imagined Kaevin standing in the kitchen right in front of the sink. Ready. Set. Ow! A sharp stabbing pain in her forehead interrupted her focus.

From the kitchen came Kaevin’s voice crying out along with a series of metallic crashes. Bounding from his chair, Wesley hurried into the kitchen.

What happened, Alora? Are you okay? You’re white as a sheet. Beth’s forehead creased as she inspected Alora’s face.

It’s my head. It hurts even worse. Maybe I shouldn’t have tried a transport. Is Kaevin okay?

Alora had her answer as Wesley emerged from the kitchen, supporting Kaevin with one arm. "He was in the kitchen sink instead of in front of it." Wesley helped Kaevin back to the couch, where he collapsed beside Alora.

Kaevin, I’m so sorry; I lost my concentration. Did I hurt you? Grasping the baggie of ice, Alora lifted it back to her temple, sighing with relief as the stabbing lessened.

I’m uninjured, but I can only think of the pain in my head. And for some reason I’m worried about Jireo. I believe he needs me.

Okay, but this time we should wait until Uncle Charles gets home with Grandmother and ask permission.

Maybe my dad would let me go with you, Wesley wondered aloud.

No way your parents would let you go, Beth declared. "I heard my mom and your mom on the phone yesterday, saying how glad they were we weren’t going to that dangerous place ever again."

The way I fight from a distance with my compound bow, it’s not really that dangerous.

Yeah, right. Beth rolled her eyes.

I mean, okay, it’s dangerous, but my dad is on my side. I told him everything that happened, and he was actually jealous. He’s dying to go back himself, if Mom would let him. And he’s as good as me with a bow and arrow.

There’s no battle to fight right now, Wesley. Alora sensed Kaevin’s increasing agitation as he abruptly rose to his feet.

Yet Morvaen expects Water Clan could launch another attack at any moment. He’s been preparing Laegenshire for the last two moons. We should go now. We can’t afford to wait for your uncle to return.

Nothing has happened for months, right? asked Beth. So why the rush?

I... I’m unsure. Pushing his fingers through his long hair, Kaevin’s eyes filled with confusion, and he dropped back onto the couch beside Alora.

Well if you decide to go, you should take me, said Beth.

First you gave me a hard time about wanting to go back, and now you’re volunteering to go? Arching one brow, Wesley twisted his mouth in a smirk.

They need my medical expertise, Beth argued.

You’re only a paramedic—not a doctor or even a nurse.

I still know more about modern medicine than anyone in Laegenshire or all of Tenavae. And I’m pretty good at triage—at least I can recognize when a patient needs to be transported back here. That counts for something. She crossed her arms over her chest. And besides, once you’ve met a guy from another realm, the ones from here are just—

Don’t say it, Wesley spat. There’s nothing wrong with Montana guys, and I can hold my own with Kaevin and Jireo.

And you look more like Kaevin every day, with your hair growing longer and that scruffy beard on your chin.

It’s just easier not to shave, Wesley muttered as his face glowed bright red.

Alora took pity on Wesley and changed the subject. Our heads are better now. Right, Kaevin? And we really need to get back to studying, or Kaevin’s never going to pass that history test.

I can’t learn any more of your ridiculous history—I’ll just funk out.

Flunk out, Wesley corrected.

Funk, flunk, frunk... Kaevin’s scowl deepened. Whatever the word may be, I’m going to do it. I don’t enjoy wasting my time attempting to memorize worthless facts simply to pass tests at your school. There are so many more important skills to learn.

Beth smiled on one side and raised a matching brow.