“Well, whatever the matter,” I say, “she should come with me. Our elven fortress is impenetrable. She will be safe there while she hones her magical ability.”
“No.” The Watcher hasn’t risen, but despite her humble seating arrangements, she looks for all the world like a queen. She peers up at me. “You have much to learn, young prince. She will be of no use there.”
Anger stirs in my gut. “With all due respect,” I say, my voice tight, “I am older than you.”
“Age has little to do with knowledge,” she counters, her tone aloof. “Listen to me. Sophia cannot go anywhere. Her connection to the Earth is here. On Vashon. Her power is not yet fully realized. She can’t sense Eema in Liberty. We’ve tried.”
I blink. “What?”
“Magic is stronger on this island,” Sophia says. “I can sense Eema here and communicate with her. We haven’t found anywhere else nearby that has the same vibrations.”
I stare at her, my mind frantically trying to grapple with this new revelation. A gaia who can only sense Eema here, on a tiny wretched island? “Have you tried anywhere else?” I ask. “Aside from Liberty?”
“A few places,” the Watcher says. “Admittedly, not many. Sophia hasn’t left the island herself. I would go elsewhere and work the gaia magic through her.”
I frown. “What do you mean?”
“Sophia and I share a bond of sorts,” the Watcher explains. “Using me as a conduit, Sophia can still sense Eema, through wherever I might be. But I haven’t found any local areas that carry Earth magic like this island does. Sophia wouldn’t be able to sense Eema if she were to go to Liberty, or the surrounding areas.”
Her expression turns pensive as she studies me. “Are there any other places like Vashon, prince? Any other places on Earth that carry the same magic?”
My lips thin as I ponder her question. “There are a few places,” I say, “. . . in Europe.”
The Watcher smiles blandly. “My child is not going to Europe. Neither am I.”
For a moment, I want to argue, but that is a childish feeling and one I suppress. “Of course not,” I say. “What use would we have for her to be there when she can communicate with the Earth here?”
“Why, indeed?” the Watcher replies.
Talking with this woman makes me feel like a child. I am done feeling like a child. “Very well,” I say, my tone airy, “Sophia shall remain here for the time being.”
The Watcher arches an eyebrow. “How very considerate of you,” she says dryly.
“For the time being,” I repeat sternly. Stars. It would seem Stella and Lyra aren’t the only contrary females. They’re everywhere. “But I shall remain here as well. She must be protected.”
“I doubt you can do anything we can’t,” the Watcher says. She tilts her head, dark hair cascading over a shoulder. “But if you agree to abide by our rules, I don’t see any reason to send you away. We welcome all, here in the clan.”
Stella snorts, and I roll my eyes to her, heat warming my face when I see she’s unsuccessfully trying to hold back laughter.
She thinks this whole exchange is hilarious.
I know how to deal with unreasonable humans, but this female, this Watcher, makes me feel like a fool, and I can’t tell why, which makes it even worse.
Mother would probably like her.
“Perhaps a meal is in order,” the Watcher says. She rises smoothly to her feet. “Sophia, go set the table for guests.”
“Sure.” Sophia nods her head, and with one last look at me, dashes off.
The Watcher motions for Stella and me to follow her, and we retrace our steps and leave the room, stepping into the hallway.
22
Stella
Eldaren has no idea how to handle the Watcher, and I think it’s hilarious.
I do my best to hide my mirth, but I don’t think I’m successful, seeing the red that flushes the tips of the prince’s ears.
The Watcher has clearly dealt with infuriating men before.
We walk back down the flight of stairs that takes us to the main floor and find ourselves back in what I assume is the entryway.
The two guards from the forest are there, and both reach for the spears strapped to their backs when they see the prince.
The Watcher waves a hand. “It’s fine,” she says. “The prince and his companion are our guests.”
The men don’t look convinced, and the bearded one squints at Eldaren. “He’s a space elf,” he says slowly. “We haven’t had one reach our shores before.”
“Well, actually, you have,” Eldaren says, probably trying to be helpful. “You just weren’t aware of it.”
From the man’s darkening expression, that was the wrong thing to say, but I doubt Eldaren understands that.
“This land doesn’t belong to the elves,” the clan member says gruffly. “It belongs to the Shore Watch.”
I can already hear the argument Eldaren has for that, but fortunately, the Watcher steps in.
“Baer. The prince is my guest. Return to your duties.”
Baer’s nose flushes red, and grumbling into his beard, he ducks into a quick bow. “Very well,” he says. He and the other guard leave the room.
Eldaren and I follow the Watcher into the atrium. I peer up at the ceiling that is comprised almost entirely of glass. “Wow,” I say, mostly to myself. “It’s beautiful in here.”
“Thank you,” the Watcher says. She eyes me with mild curiosity. “This is one of the more popular rooms Shore Watch members like to gather in. We have one in the South and North Keep, as well.”
I study her back. “You seem pretty open about clan life with strangers.”
“I imagine the prince here did his homework about this place already,” the Watcher says with a wry smile. “No point in trying to keep you two in the dark about information that is easily found.”
Eldaren is watching her, his expression wary. I suspect to most people he looks expressionless, but I feel like I’m beginning to read his body language more easily.
I should
