SAMPLE CHAPTER FROM "The Binding"

By - PhyllisAnn Welsh (Penny Hussey), http://www.sff.net/People/GrandDuchess/Phyllis.htm, copyright 2001

NovelBooks Inc., http://www.novelbooksinc.com/

Prologue

Mac Lir enjoyed a practical joke just as well as the next deity, but this one had gone far past the humorous stage, and had slipped into antagonistic millennia ago.

Eons before, when the Seven Cella Worlds had been young, the gods had created children to populate and develop them, each race living in harmony with the others. Mac Lir’s children were the Silvan ones—the Elves.

Too many years had passed for Mac Lir to remember when the joke had started, or even which deity had first suggested it. However, all had agreed it would be amusing to see which race of children would dominate and rule the others.

No, amusing it was not, Mac Lir decided, especially since his Silvan children could no longer be found on the world called Earth. The only traces remaining of them were a few stories and songs. Very occasionally however, about once every twenty generations, a drop of Silvan blood resurfaced in a human child.

These special children rarely lived long. If they did not meet with tragic accidents when their magical powers began to manifest, they were hunted down by frightened and suspicious humans. It was easy for Mac Lir to see the emerging pattern of total extinction. Some deity’s hand was behind it, and Mac Lir suspected it was his archenemy Tuawtha, the demon god.

Now the pattern of his children’s extinction was beginning on another world, Tylana. Mac Lir was determined to stop it. The threat had already touched his children of the waves, the Sea Elves. The truly insidious part of Tuawtha’s plan was using the Night Elves against their brethren to do his evil work. But once the Sea Elves were gone, the demon god would turn his evil attention to the Night Elves, eliminating them as well. Tuawtha would not rest until all the silvan children were exterminated.

Mac Lir had a plan to save his children. He would use his most powerful high priest and a human woman from the world of Earth. Together, these two would strengthen the elves and begin a new race; a people better able to survive the evil of Tuawtha.

For generations Mac Lir waited for just the right human child to be born. That female child had to have a drop of silvan blood or else the magical transition, the binding of two souls for eternity, would kill her. Once found, she had to be protected from mysterious acidents, superstious humans, and nurtured in a tolerant environment.

Finally, Mac Lir’s wait was fruitful. A human female was born one November morning in a place called Greensboro, Indiana. She had the requisite trace of silvan blood—everything was in alignment.

With a smug smile, and a determined but mischievous glint in his eyes, the god Mac Lir began to meddle.

CHAPTER ONE

"Tavern keeper," the woman spoke over her shoulder, loud enough for all in the large room to hear, "I require a hot meal, a hot bath, and some information. I’m looking for a place named Shalridoor."

The screaming silence that greeted her words was suddenly broken by the potboy’s squeaky voice.

"Great lizards, lady! Nobody goes there! That place is haunted by dead elves!"

# # #

Korrene Greenwood stared at the computer screen with a combination of wonder and disgust. Try as she might, those words played through her mind over and over, like last year’s number one song. And now she had actually typed them—"haunted by dead elves". She’d never planned on that.

As she moved the cursor to delete the words, an uncanny feeling of unease inched up her spine and tingled her scalp. Feeling foolish, she turned to look behind her.

Of course, no one was there. She was alone in the apartment, as always.

Running her fingers through her short curls, she pushed her chair away from the computer console, stood and lunged for the office door. She needed a distraction.

Her bare feet made a soft whisper on the pale blue carpet as she checked the answering machine next to the couch. She always put it on when working, so no one would disturb her. No messages. Good. She didn’t feel like talking anyway.

Going into the tiny efficiency kitchen, she poured herself a cup of day-old, burnt coffee and rummaged in the cabinet until she found a box of fudge cookies, her mind still trying to dissect the words and put them into some kind of order in the story.

As she sipped and munched thoughtfully, she sauntered back into the living room and stared sightlessly out the bay window. Her toes dug into the soft carpet by habit. What was it about this story that seemed to absorb all her thoughts—waking and sleeping?

She padded over to the couch, sat and was swallowed up immediately into its comforting depths. She tucked her right leg under her bottom and leaned against the over-stuffed armrest, her mind still busily pondering her fascination with an alien race.

The plot of the manuscript was strong; it held danger, intrigue, magic, romance, and some twists that surprised even Kory. It even had an endangered species, for heaven’s sake. The story detailed the account of an elusive tribe of elves from the sea who were slowly dying. The major conflict was about how they would solve their dilemma with the help of Mac Lir, the god of the sea.

Especially fascinating to Kory was her main character and hero Rendolin—a five-foot eleven-inch, green-eyed, blond-haired, magic-wielding package of sensual masculinity—who seemed so real that sometimes it felt like he was in the room telling her his life story. He was more alive and believable than any character she had ever created before.

Maybe a little too alive.

He was beginning to haunt her dreams to the point that it disturbed her sleep. She knew occasionally a writer could create a character that just seemed to jump off a page and breathe life into a story. Her elf was such a character.

Rendolin was very easy to write about and even easier to picture. So engrossed was she in her leading man and the strange, unbidden phrase, Kory didn’t notice the room darken as the sun sank behind the Vermont hills.

When she first thought about creating Rendolin, she knew he would be a strong, masculine personality—a hero of a romance had to be! She had an idea of what he would be like, but to know somehow that his green eyes would turn gray with anger, that his favorite color was turquoise, or that his hair was the texture of soft silk rather than crisp linen, surprised her.

Sometimes it seemed as if he paced up and down the room while she typed, as if he were dictating how the story should go rather than her making it up as she went. It was a very disconcerting feeling.

He didn’t like the track the story was taking. She often felt as though he was frustrated and impatient with her. That she was supposed to be writing or doing some elusive thing she couldn’t quite grasp or comprehend.

"Now, that’s ridiculous, Kory!" She leaped off the couch in agitation, knocking the coffee and cookies onto the floor. Fudge melted into the spilled coffee, forming a sludge-like substance that seeped into the carpet, making a soggy pile of brown goo.

"What a mess!"

As she bent to clean it up, the telephone rang. She let the answering machine pick up as she finished cleaning the carpet.

"Kory, are you there? This is Patty. Answer the phone if you can hear me, girl."

Kory smiled as she dumped the spongy mess in the garbage and dove for the phone. She always enjoyed talking to her sister-in-law.

"Hi," she answered, breathless. "What’s up?"

"Well, I haven’t heard from you in a week or so, and I wanted to check to make sure you’re still alive!" The sound of Patty’s familiar voice brought a lump to Kory’s throat. She didn’t deserve to have a sister-in-law like Patty. Kory worried that she’d jinx Patty, too.

"Yeah, I’m alive. I’ve been busy working on my book. You know how it is."

"How’s it going?" Patty asked. "Have you thought of a title for it yet?"

Kory chuckled with Patty at the inside joke. A title for her stories was always the last thing she did. She swore she had no talent for it.

"No, but I’ll come up with something before it’s done. I’ve been having a little trouble with my characters."

"Trouble?" Patty asked. "Anything I can help you with?"

"Not unless you can tell me why I think my hero is stalking me," Kory said with a nervous laugh.

"What?"

"Oh, I can’t explain it. Never mind. How’s the family?"

For the next twenty minutes Kory listened and commented as her sister-in-law told her about life as a mother and wife. Patty and her family were the only relatives Korrene had since her husband, Herb, died three and one half years ago after a freak hiking accident. Kory had been twenty-three; Herb at twenty-five had been much too young to die.

He had survived the accident, but had been in a coma and on life support for seven months before he quietly died one spring morning. He had never regained consciousness. After all the bills had been paid, Kory worked part time while she wrote her first novel. The sales from that book, along with a modest pension from Herb’s life insurance, had allowed her to sell the fixer-upper they had bought the year before to raise the family they planned. She then rented a small efficiency apartment in Vermont, and took a year off from her usual secretarial positions to work on her latest book..

The one that was driving her crazy.

"So, I wanted to invite you down this weekend." Patty’s voice brought Kory back from her memories with a start.

"I’m sorry, Patty. What did you say?"

"I said, Mike’s best friend is in town for the week, and he’s a military gamer like you. He likes to pretend to be an ancient medieval soldier and try to figure out new strategies for old battles, just like you and Herb did. So why don’t you come down on Saturday and meet him? I bet you’d like him."

"Playing matchmaker again, huh? No dice, Pat."

"I thought you’d say that, but what’s the big deal? You haven’t been down to see your niece and nephews in months. I could use the female companionship. Come on!"

"No thanks. I’m not interested." Kory began to feel uncomfortable, as she always did when Pat tried to get her to visit. Her stomach clenched, and the too familiar pain clutched at her heart.

"Kory, we worry about you up there, living all by yourself. What if something should happen and there’s nobody to help you?"

A light sweat broke out across Kory’s forehead. "Pat, I’ve had self defense training. I’ll be fine."

"Oh, right! An eight-week class at the local YMCA is really going to do you a lot of good if you get mugged! You should be with your family."

"Pat, I said no." Something like panic clawed up her chest, closing off her breath and making her throat tight. Family. Something she had no right to claim. Every time she loved someone too much, she jinxed him or her and they died.

Changing tactics, Pat tried again.

"Kory, Herbert has been dead for nearly four years. It’s time to stop mourning him. Look, I was his sister and I say it’s time to get on with your life. You can’t shut yourself up and live in a fantasy world you’ve created. It isn’t natural, Kory."

"Patty," she began, gulping air, "I know you’re trying to help, and I love you for it. But please believe me when I say I’m not mourning Herb any more. I just don’t have time to drive down to Massachusetts for a weekend. I have to get this first draft done. My publisher gave me a deadline and I have to meet it. Maybe some other time."

Kory knew Patty would see through the excuse, but she hoped her sister-in-law would understand.

"Okay," Patty said after a brief, disappointed pause. "If you have a deadline to meet, we understand."

Kory let out the breath she didn’t know she’d been holding.

"But we’re not giving up on you, girl! You’re coming down to visit us before the snow flies, you hear me?"

"Yeah, I hear you. I promise to get down before you take the shovels out of storage. Give everyone a hug and kiss for me, and thanks for the call, Pat."

Kory slowly placed the phone on the hook, glanced at the clock and sighed deeply. Man, she was tired. And lonely, but it was best this way.

Turning off the lights, she headed for the bedroom.

# # #

"Oh damn, Herb," Kory said to the dishwasher. "I had another dream about that elf last night."

Sitting at the table in her ratty rose velour bathrobe, eating a bagel with cream cheese and sipping a Swiss mocha latte, she could still feel the elf at the edges of her mind, poking and probing.

Reminding her how lonely she was.

Actually, to dream of her characters and the story wasn’t unusual. In fact, dreams were an important part of her creative process. Each night after she was in bed, she would consciously induce images of her current work. Allowing her mind to roam in any direction produced some of the best ideas. But last night had been different.

The dream started off well. Since her story was about a fantasy island of elves, she had gone to sleep calling forth the sea and a soft, beautiful, peaceful island named Sasheena.

She remembered the sound of the surf crashing against rocks, and sea birds sailing through a bright blue sky.

She had felt a gentle breeze caress her cheek, playing with her hair as it lulled her into a relaxing sleep. And soon she saw him rise up out of the sea, like a lost soul walking back into her life.

Rendolin’s strong, lithe body glistened in the sun where millions of drops of sea spray caught the light as he stepped from the waves. His long hair dripped rivulets of water that coursed around the muscles and planes of his chest, as he came towards her with the delicious languid grace of a sensuous animal. His bronzed skin was cool and smooth as he took her in his arms and pressed her to him. The taste of the sea was on his lips.

Lifting his head, he looked deeply into her eyes. With a gentle touch he smoothed a tendril of hair from her face before breathing her name like a prayer.

With a start, Kory awoke and sat up in bed. The raw emotion in that one word wrenched her heart with a physical ache. For a second she thought she could still smell the tang of the sea, but it was gone in an instant. Her body was wet with perspiration, and her loose gown clung uncomfortably to her breasts.

He was supposed to whisper her heroine’s name, not hers.

It had taken her a long while to fall back asleep….

Reflecting upon the dream now, sitting in her sunny little kitchen and sipping lukewarm coffee, Kory guessed it wasn’t such an unusual dream. True, Rendolin was supposed to be in love with Feenix, but since it was her dream it was only natural that he seemed to be making love to Kory instead. That made sense. It was just that his presence seemed so real. Her body still tingled at the thought of his touch.

"Maybe Patty is right," she said to herself. "I need to get out more and meet real men."

She reached across the table and took a notebook from the pile she always kept there, flipped to a blank page and picked up a pen. Before the dream faded completely, she should make a few notes. She had just finished the last words when she looked up and saw him.

Rendolin was wearing a pearl gray robe that fell open to reveal his smooth, muscular chest. Muscles and sinew rippled beneath golden tanned skin, and she found herself wondering what it would be like to touch him. His lower body was encased in a pair of tight black leggings that hugged his strong thighs. On his feet was a pair of tooled brown leather boots that only reached to his ankles. His long golden hair was held back from his face with a leather headband, adorned with a polished piece of glistening pink coral.

It wasn’t immediately apparent that Rendolin was of a different race. His elfin blood showed only in the delicate features of his face, and perhaps the lean planes of his body. His mesmerizing green eyes were slanted only a little, and certainly his near six feet height didn’t proclaim him an elf. But Kory knew that if she lifted his hair, a pair of perfectly pointed ears would give him away. She knew because he was her creation.

He moved gracefully, put his fists on his hips, and braced his feet in a wide stance, for all the world like an ancient king surveying his domain. Then slowly, a smile blossomed across his beautiful face, revealing a deep dimple in his left cheek. Kory could almost smell his salty, musky scent, and she couldn’t help smiling back at him.

"My word, what an imagination I have!" she said with an appreciative chuckle.

"Aye," he answered, quietly, "and ‘tis a good thing for me that you do."

"You know," she reflected, "I shouldn’t be sitting here in my nightgown talking to a figment of my imagination. Especially this early in the morning. People might get the wrong idea and lock me up."

"None will know except myself." His musical voice held a deep timbre and a caressing quality that sent tingles rushing to her toes.

Suddenly losing patience with herself, Kory closed the notebook with a bang.

"This is crazy," she mumbled, standing up from the table. She hurried across the room and put her empty cup in the sink, keeping her back to the apparition.

"I must be working too hard. Maybe I should take that trip south to see Patty and the kids. It’ll get my mind off this stupid story and that elf."

She turned on the water to do the dishes, hoping some good manual labor would put a stop to these disturbing visions of a totally make-believe character.

Suddenly a tiny wisp of air moved the hair against her cheek and disturbed the hem of her robe, making it sway gently. All her instincts warned her she was not alone, but she dared not turn around.

"I am honored that your mind is on me. However, I must disagree with your opinion regarding my world. To me, it is of vital importance, and the fate of my people is at stake."

Slowly, almost fearfully, Kory turned from the sink and faced the source of the words. Rendolin leaned against the counter, an amused look on his handsome face. Blinking three times quickly did not get rid of him. Her knees began to shake as she realized she was having visions.

"Do not look so upset, my sweet," soothed her hallucination, as he picked up the toaster and inspected it closely. "You may trust my word that you possess all your faculties. A son of the House of Hiloris would never lie."

She wiped her soapy hands on her bathrobe and tried to ignore Rendolin as she made her unsteady way back to the table and collapsed in a chair. Dropping her face into her hands, Kory ordered herself to think clearly.

"What should I do? Who should I call? If I call 911 what do I tell them?" she wondered out loud.

She huddled over the table as if trying to hide herself from a ghost. Her bare toes gripped the rung of the chair, clinging to a lifeline.

"Tell them nothing, Korrene." He walked over to the refrigerator and examined the papers and pictures she had cluttering the front. Then he experimented with the door handle before opening it to peer inside. "There is nothing wrong with you." He closed the ‘fridge and turned his attention to her. "I am truly here." His gentle voice only made her shake harder.

She tried to straighten up a bit, but couldn’t make her body respond to her demands.

"Okay, Kory," she said to herself, fighting to regain control. "Remember your stress control training. Breathe deeply. Come on. Inhale…."

"Korrene," he pleaded, "listen to me. There is no need for panic."

She winced at his voice. "… Exhale. Good, good. He’s not real. Now again. Inhale…."

"Korrene, stop this. I cannot bear to see you so upset! I will go, do you hear me?"

Kory covered her ears with her fingers; she wanted to crawl inside herself, hide somewhere, anything to get away from this nightmare. She was so frightened, and her heart was banging so violently, she thought she was going to die of a heart attack. It was almost like when she learned Herb was going to die. It had taken her eleven months to get over those anxiety attacks. She didn’t think she could take it if they came back.

"Exhale … Oh, why do I still hear him?" Tears dripped between her fingers and her chair wobbled as she shook harder. "Again! Inhale…"

"Very well. By the god’s beard, I will leave you for now. But I will be back," his voice was desperate. "Hear me now, Korrene. I will be back!"

"Exhale… Come on, Kory. You can do it. Inhale…exhale. Breathe deeply and slowly. It’s working. I don’t hear him any more. Breathe. One more time."

Kory dared a look between her fingers and searched the kitchen. Rendolin was not there. She dropped her shaking hands, and looked into the living room. Gone.

She stood on unsteady legs and ventured around the corner into her bedroom. It was empty, too. With a sigh of relief, she plopped back down into the chair and broke into noisy sobs.

"What am I going to do, Herb? I’m going insane."