Free Bone War by Steven Harper Page B

halfway between anger and uncertainty. “What are you doing here? You better not harm Neff.”
    â€œDo you care about a single old man, my son?” said Queen Gwylph in a musical voice that made Talfi achewith hunger and delight. “An elf’s lowest business is more important than the welfare of the highest Kin, and this Kin’s life has nearly run its minuscule course.”
    â€œWhat do you want, Mother?” Ranadar said guardedly.
    â€œAnd this,” Gwylph said, turning to Talfi, “is the boy who forgot how to die. The first. Tell me, little one, what is it about you that made my son cruelly turn against his own mother and break her heart?”
    Actual tears came to Queen Gwylph’s eyes, and Talfi suddenly wanted nothing more than to comfort her, stop this lovely creature from weeping. Any world that would make her cry wasn’t worth living in.
    Then Ranadar touched Talfi’s arm and blew warm breath in his face. The desire vanished like a burst soap bubble, and the queen seemed much less beautiful, to boot. He could see the fine spray of winkles on her face and the silver in her hair. Anger stiffened Talfi’s spine.
    â€œIt’s probably that I don’t bed donkeys,” Talfi said. “Or lick goat balls.”
    â€œHow dare you!” the queen snapped out of reflex.
    â€œThat’s what the goat said,” Talfi replied.
    â€œShe is still my mother,
Talashka
,” Ranadar said softly.
    â€œI’d say I’m sorry,” Talfi replied, “but I don’t want to.”
    â€œYou—” she began.
    â€œThe first time we speak in over a year, Mother, and you throw a glamour on my beloved,” Ranadar interrupted. “Why are you here? You Twisted a sprite all the way from Palana, made it track me down, and ordered it to lay your image over this old man. That took a lot of power, so I assume you have a reason for spending it.”
    Gwylph recovered herself. “I am here for you, Ranadar.”
    â€œYou will have to say more than that.”
    â€œDo you love me, my son?”
    A pained look flickered across Ranadar’s face before he managed to erase it. Talfi, who knew Ranadar well, wondered if Gwylph caught it, too. “That does not matter, does it? You have made your decisions, and I have made mine.”
    Gwylph dropped the scepter. It struck the ground and changed back into Neff’s walking stick. She stepped forward and touched Ranadar’s face. She was so close to Talfi that he could hear the illusory rustling of her gown and smell the flowery scent of her hair. Neither put a hold on him, but it was like standing next to the real Queen Gwylph.
    â€œI miss you,” she said with genuine grief in her voice. “You are my son, my only child. I do not care what your . . . friends or your beloved mortal have done. They may have killed your father”—here her voice choked a little—“but they are not you. I love you so very much, and I want you back where you belong. In Alfhame. At my side. Come home.”
    â€œI . . . cannot, Mother.” Ranadar backed up a step and closed his eyes. “You know that.”
    â€œIs it because of the boy?” Gwylph persisted. “He can come. We will cast no glamours on him, I give you my word. He can stay as your playmate or your consort or whatever title you want to give him. He can stay until he dies that final time, and then you can move on.”
    â€œHe will not die naturally, Mother,” Ranadar said.
    â€œOh, my son.” Here Gwylph seemed pained again, and Talfi wondered if it was real, or if she was just a very good actress. “That is not true. I have studied the matter extensively, and I know he was the vessel for the power of the Iron Axe. Its power was keeping him alive. Once the Axe was reformed, the power left him. He is a normal human now. He will die one day, and sooner than you think. It is always so