Chapter 9
Finn
Annika, Yuri, and the samodivi most of the day outside; shooting from horseback, playing with the kittens, working in the garden and learning a few kickboxing moves until it was time to wash up and begin cooking dinner. Annika had wanted to get her backpack so she could listen to her music or write in her journal, but Talvi had mysteriously been absent all day and she didn’t remember exactly how to get to his room. She headed upstairs, having found the hall that led to the third floor where she thought his room was, when she passed an open door. She stopped, poked her head in, and was amazed by the bookshelves that reached from floor to ceiling. A towering window illuminated the room, and a set of French doors were cracked open to let in a bit of fresh air along with the light. A forlorn telescope sat out on the balcony as if waiting patiently for nightfall, but what got Annika’s attention was the sheer number of books that filled the room.
There were books stacked in piles everywhere; books by the windows, books on the nightstand by the bed, books on the floor beside the bed, books on the trunk at the foot of the bed, and books on a chest of drawers. There was a simple desk with none other than books on it, and an overstuffed chair and ottoman where Finn sat reclined and barefoot with his long legs stretched out before him, reading. He looked up and set his book aside on a small table that was piled with none other than books, but remarkably there was also a glass of water sitting on it as well. His room wasn’t bursting with opulent material possessions like those of his younger siblings, and none of his clothes were lying about…just books.
“I was wondering if you would come by,” he said, leaning his head back on the chair. His curls fell to the sides of his head, revealing a warm look in his soft brown eyes.
“I’m sorry,” Annika said apologetically. “Have you been here all day waiting for me to show up?”
“No, I’ve been here all day because this is what I do when I’m not teaching or doing chores,” he said, still resting his head on the cushion. His expression was welcoming, yet free from expectation. He moved one of his long legs and invited her to sit on the ottoman in front of him. As she came into the room he lifted his head, causing his curls fell back into his face.
“I was hoping to hear more about unicorns,” she said as she took a seat.
“Yes, I recall our conversation from dinner. Why are you so curious about them?”
“I don’t know,” she fibbed. “Ever since I was a little girl I always wanted to see one.”
“Then you must be quite content.” He glanced at the ring on her hand and lifted a brow at her, and she couldn’t help smiling in embarrassment. “Don’t worry—Talvi already informed Father and I. Your secret’s safe with us.”
“He said it wasn’t common for them to do this; to come near me in the first place and then to give me something like this,” she confessed. “I guess it’s more than just a strand of hair.”
“Without question. And Talvi’s correct about the manner in which it was given to you. I imagine your mystical benefactress thought you needed it for a reason, which is very—” He pressed his lips together and looked up at the ceiling, searching for the perfect word.
“Weird?” she suggested.
“Prognostic was the word I was searching for, but I suppose it qualifies as weird,” he said and stretched in his chair.
“How did you know it was a she, and not a he that gave it to me?” she asked. He sat up and took her right hand, thumbing the ring gently.
“I can tell by the color,” he said, pointing at the long strand of hair wrapped around the ring. “It’s dark silver, not pure white. She was as dark as the night, wasn’t she?”
“Yeah. How did you know that?” Annika wondered, but then remembered the telepathic nature of these elves. “What else do you know off the top of your head?” she asked as he gently set her hand down.
“What do you wish to know?”
“Why are they so secretive? It doesn’t seem like there’s anyone else living in these forests, so what do they have to be afraid of?”
“What do they not have to be afraid of?” Finn replied. “Have you ever been in one’s company, only to find yourself tired, irritable, and exhausted after speaking with them?”
“Oh, sure.”
“It’s essentially the same thing for unicorns, except much worse. They’re such sensitive creatures that they can’t afford to be in the presence of anything with less than four legs. Their empathic nature absorbs a lot of psychic residuals projected out and left behind by others. The other reason they’re so rare to behold is that they’re very powerful and magical. Sometimes they’re hunted for their horn or their blood as a remedy to cure the sick and dying. Their blood will heal nearly any wound, and if you drink enough you can become nearly immortal.” Annika’s eyes grew wide.
“Really?”
“Yes, really. In the wild, ravens live an average of seventeen years, but Cazadora has been with our family ever since Father was my age. She still flies as though she’s a young bird.”
“How did that happen?”
“She most likely fed on a dead unicorn; that’s my guess. Ravens are scavengers, you know,” he said. “She’ll eat just about anything, so don’t ever bring food into the library, unless you don’t mind sharing.”
“Good to know,” she replied with a chuckle. “So if unicorn blood can do that to Cazadora, have people ever done that to live forever?”
“Yes, but it’s a high price to pay. One would have to kill the animal to acquire the amount of blood needed.”
“There is a certain amount? How much?”
“More than a thimbleful, I’m sure. But no one has killed any of the creatures in centuries, and I doubt they ever would. It’s punishable by death in every realm. It’s said that if you kill one, the pain you cause it to suffer is multiplied by a thousand, and your immortal life will be afflicted with this pain as long as you live. The few that have committed such a heinous act always killed themselves before they could be tried and executed.”
“But if they’re immortal, how could they die?”
“Oh, countless ways,” he said matter-of-factly. “Severing of the head or a main artery and bleeding out, being run through the heart, breaking one’s neck, falling a great distance, being crushed in a carriage accident, drowning at sea, being eaten by wolves…” He paused and took a drink of his water. “I think you get the point. Being immortal isn’t the same as being invincible. Even the stars above die, although it’s millions of years later. A unicorn won’t live anywhere near that long, but as long as they suffer no terrible injury, they grow very old. Even I don’t know how old they can be, and while I’m not trying to be boastful, for me to not know something about something is rather…infrequent.” He made a little gesture to his literary surroundings and she nodded.
“Wow…” Annika sighed, and shook her head in wonder. “I still can’t believe I’m sitting here, having this conversation with you. I’m talking to an elf, which I didn’t think existed, about an animal that I didn’t think existed until I saw it with my own eyes. I spent the day shooting arrows and kickboxing with your elf sister and three wood nymphs, which I didn’t think existed, either. I keep thinking at some point I’m going to wake up and have dreamt all of this, but I’m really here.”
“Yes, you certainly are,” he replied, studying her from behind his curls. He was holding back a smile, prompting Annika to try and guess what he had on his mind. Was it simple curiosity? Academic intrigue? Romantic allure? There was only one way for her to find out, so she leaned a little closer and held her wrist within inches of his fingertips.
“Maybe you should pinch me. You know…so I can be sure,” she suggested with a flirtatious grin.
“And cause you pain? I wouldn’t dream of it.” He shook his head and folded his hands over his chest, leaving Annika to wonder if he’d just turned down a perfectly innocent reason to touch her. Maybe he was such a gentleman that he honestly couldn’t imagine
pinching her. Or maybe he was one of those scholars who was a genius in the classroom, yet completely oblivious when it came to the laws of attraction. She’d met a few guys like that, ones who couldn’t tell the difference between a woman being nice and a woman hitting on them. She rested her hands in her lap and decided to give him the benefit of the doubt.
“Your bracelet’s really pretty. Where did you get it?”
“Hilda made it for me,” he answered without further elaboration.
“Do you ever take it off?”
“No,” he said in a neutral tone.
“What stones are those? They look like moonstone.”
“Yes, actually they are.” Other than looking down at his bracelet, nothing in his body language or voice changed, much to Annika’s frustration.
“I’ve read that the whiter the moonstone is, the more potent it is in matters of love…and those stones are really white,” she pointed out. He glanced at her in slight surprise.
“I’m very impressed, Annika. I didn’t think you would know so much about magical matters,” he said, and rose to his feet. He walked to his desk and retrieved a notepad and pen before returning to his chair, this time sitting up in a more formal position. “Now, I do believe it’s my turn to ask you some questions.”
For the rest of the afternoon, Finn picked through Annika’s brain, asking about everything from science and medicine to American pop culture and slang, but the subject of magical stones did not come up again.