“Do you?” I repeated.
“Olive, I am very sorry you were captured by the witch. I feel I put you and your companions in grave danger, and for that, I apologize. It was never my intention for you to be captured, or for the king to endure what he did.”
“Do you know what she did to him?”
“I know what she has done to others like him. It’s possible she altered his mind somehow and showed him visions, but I do not know any more than that.”
“What sort of visions?”
He shook his head. “I do not know.”
“Can you fix him?”
“No, those are not powers I possess.”
“Is there anything that can be done for him?”
“Yes, perhaps. You, Olive, may be just the person to help him. You have skills in restoring a healthy balance to those who have crossed worlds and forgotten their memories. Use your powers to help him, and you may be able to undo the witch’s curse.”
I nodded, wishing I shared his optimism when it came to my abilities. Would Kull ever be the same?
“If anyone can overcome the witch’s curse, it is him. You have picked a noble soul to spend your time with. I can see he makes you happy. Has he mentioned his intentions to you?”
Intentions? I cleared my throat, suddenly feeling uncomfortable at our turn in conversation.
“Eh, no. He hasn’t mentioned anything to me about his intentions.”
Fan’twar nodded, as if he knew something I didn’t.
“What?” I asked.
“I said nothing.”
“No, but you gave me that look.”
“What look?”
“You know—that look. There, see? You’re doing it again.”
He laughed, a deep, rumbling sound that made the pond water ripple.
“Why are you laughing?” I asked.
“No reason. You’d better go and enjoy the feast before the Wults eat it all.”
I put my hands on my hips. “Did Kull say something to you about his intentions?”
“The Wults will have it all eaten soon if you do not make haste.”
Eying him, I wanted to press the topic further, but knew it wouldn’t do any good. He’d never tell me. I turned away and marched up the path back to the festivities.
Intentions? It made me nervous to consider what that could possibly mean. I had too much drama in my life to think of settling down, but still, if it were a possibility, I had to admit it made me happy. Then again, maybe I was overanalyzing the situation and hoping for too much. Kull had never once discussed marriage with me, and now with the witch meddling with his mind and the elves on the brink of controlling the world, I wasn’t sure he ever would.
I made it back to the clearing and was relieved the crowd had thinned, making it easy for me to spot Kull sitting with a group of Wults. Brodnik, the boisterous, opinionated Wult who’d traveled with us many times, was the only person I recognized at the table with Kull.
“Oy, Olive!” Brodnik called. “It’s about time you showed up. We’ve nearly got all the bones picked clean.”
Kull smiled as I sat beside him, and then he passed me a plate of roasted boarhound and a hunk of dark brown bread. As I took a bite of the meat, I had to admit, the Wult chefs were beyond talented at preparing a meal. The meat was so tender it melted in my mouth.
As I chewed, I noticed Brodnik had a chubby baby propped on his lap. He winced as the baby yanked his beard.
“Oy, stop that pulling,” he said as he pried the baby’s hand open.
“Is this your son?” I asked.
“Nay, this is my grandson Björn. He’s my first grandchild.”
“He’s cute.”
The baby cooed as his grandpa held him. He had hair as red as his grandfather’s, two bottom teeth, and dimples that showed whenever he smiled.
“How old is he?” I asked.
“Nearly one year old come next week,” Brodnik answered.
As I stared at Brodnik holding his grandson, it occurred to me that I’d never realized Brodnik had a family, but as I looked from one face to the other in the crowd sitting around us, with their red-gold hair and freckled noses, it hit me that not only did he have a family, but a large one.
“How many kids do you have?” I asked him.
“Nine,” he answered, “including two that have passed, may Odin bless their souls.”
“Nine?”
“Aye. Don’t act so surprised, Miss Olive. That’s an average family in our lands.”
The baby started to cry, and Brodnik held him over his arm and patted the baby’s back, then quietly sang a lullaby as if he’d done this millions of times before. The baby quieted.
Kull took my hand, and I glanced up at him. Did he intend to have a large family? If so, these were things I needed to know—there were many things I needed to know before he brought up the subject of his intentions. He’d told me before that there was much about Wult society I didn’t understand, and I believed him.
The only way for me to learn more about Kull’s world was to be here, interacting and living day-to-day with the Wults. Attending the wedding would accomplish that much, but deep down, I knew I would never really become a Wult. That thought made my heart sink. No matter where I traveled or what planet I lived on, I would never fit in.
Kull wrapped his arm around my shoulder as Brodnik continued his lullaby and the baby’s eyes closed.
“Brodnik,” Kull said, “you have a way with children. You should have been a nursemaid.”
“Aye, I won’t disagree with you on that one. I would have been perfectly happy to look after the children if I’d had my way, if there weren’t always wars to fight and bellies to be fed. Olga would have preferred I stayed home and tended the babies—that is, until the babies grew into young people. Then I would give them back to her. It’s the half-grown ones who cause all the trouble.”
“I heard that,” said a gangly girl sitting beside him. His daughter, I assumed.
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