True North [True North series book 1/3]

My jaw dropped in shock. “You sent me in there to die?!” I called out indignantly.

“You sent her to Aeloria?!” the blond guard asked simultaneously.

Thoridor shrugged. “She wants to get off my lands. I figured Aeloria might now where to find a gateway back to where she came from.”

The blond guard seemed just as disgruntled as I was. “I can take her to the surface,” he said, nodding in my direction. “If you relieve me of my duties momentarily, I can get her out of your hair.”

Thoridor’s eyes darted back and forth between the guard and me. He ran his hand through his short beard as he mulled over the thought.

He looked at me. “Is that what you want?” he asked pensively.

I was slightly taken aback by his question. Up to this point, none of the decisions had been made with any regard to my thoughts on them.

“I need to go see your sister,” I said, and immediately regretted it.

“My sister,” Thoridor echoed, and the faintest hint of surprise appeared on his face.

“Yes,” I said, straightening my back.

“Can you take me to her?” I continued, turning to the guard.

“I can,” he confirmed, before looking back at Thoridor for approval.

Thoridor looked at me for a long moment. “You think my sister can help you return to your world, then,” he stated.

“I do,” I replied, “or your mother, perhaps. A female royal — according to the prophecy.”

Thoridor scoffed. “If my mother or sister can open up gateways at their discretion, they have a lot of explaining to do,” he mumbled, “but by all means — if you think they can help you, go for it.”

He nodded his head in my direction as he addressed the guard. “Get her off my lands.”

I raised my eyebrows, and pressed my lips together. “Thank you for everything you’ve done, Sire,” I said, and turned to the blond guard, “I’d be very grateful if you could take me to the Princess.”

The guard inclined his head politely. “And so I shall,” he said with a grin.

Thoridor averted his eyes. “Take her to my sister and return immediately,” he said to the guard as he rested his head on the back of the chair and closed his eyes.

“Make sure you never return to these lands,” he said to me, his eyes still closed, “for I do not take responsibility for what might happen to you if you do.”

I swallowed. “Yes, Sire,” I said, and turned around, following the guard out of the room.

As soon as the door closed behind us, the guard turned to me. “My name is Warrian Varicor,” he said, flashing his dimpled smile at me.

I couldn’t help but return it. “I’m Serin. Serin Eloweth.”

“Serin…” he repeated back to me, but he butchered the second syllable, like everyone always did.

“Sur-ínn,” I corrected him.

“Serin,” he said again, correctly, this time. I nodded contently.

We walked the empty palace hallways until we made it back outside, and trailed the shell path until we made it outside the gates. Part of me wanted to explore this underwater city —peer into the houses around the palace and study their inhabitants— but then I thought of Tophyn. I picked up speed.

“So, how did a human like you make it here?” Warrian asked as we made our way through the winding streets.

“I… fell,” I said, feeling my cheeks heat up again, “I accidentally tumbled through what turned out to be a gateway.”

Warrian let out a hearty laugh. “You accidentally passed through a gateway,” he repeated, “our people obsess over gateways. They are very rare, you know.”

“So I’ve been told,” I said, glancing at Warrian peripherally. He really was handsome — why were all these Ardanians so beautiful? Compared to them, even the most beautiful human looked plain and dull.

Warrian noticed me looking and smirked.

“Have you ever met a human before?” I asked, trying avert his attention.

“I have,” he said, “a human woman lives here.”

I halted abruptly. “There’s another human here?!” I repeated in shock.

“There is,” Warrian confirmed, pausing beside me, “she doesn’t look anything like you, though. Not even in her prime time.”

I furrowed my brows. “What does she look like?” I asked, beginning to walk again.

“Her skin looks like tree bark,” Warrian said, scratching the back of his head, “All folded, and shriveled. Her hair is silver, her back is arched, and her joints are crooked.”

I raised an eyebrow. “So she’s old,” I concluded, “how long has she been here?”

Warrian shrugged. “I think she popped through the gateway when she was a youngling. It took her forever to come of age, and then she just kept shrinking and shriveling until she looked the way she does now.”

I huffed. “Yeah, well,” I said, taking offense, “humans tend to do that. How old are you, anyway?”

Warrian laughed. “I do not know how to answer that question,” he said, as cryptic as Thoridor had been when talking about time. “I’ve been around for a long time.”

I squinted as I studied his face. “Everyone here seems to be in their mid-twenties,” I said, “It’s very confusing. Even King Darianth looked very young, and he’s supposed to be Thoridor’s father.”

Warrian nodded. “We don’t age the way you humans do,” he confirmed, “we stop once we are fully grown.”

We had almost reached the wall of water. “Are you immortal?” I asked, happy someone was finally asking my questions.

“Not in the sense that we can’t die,” Warrian said, “but we don’t just drop dead like you humans do when you’ve shrunk and shriveled enough.”

“So you can still get sick, or be killed?” I asked, my curiosity peaking.

Warrian looked at me suspiciously. “Yes,” he said, drawing out the word, “but it’s very hard to kill us. Especially once we’re mated. It’s like our lives double once we do — we’re twice as hard to kill.”

“Are you?” I asked, stopping a step away from the wall of water surrounding the city, “mated, I mean?”

Warrian looked at me intently. “Not yet,” he finally said.