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But Caer and I could help my parents see the light.

I sang the lines from ‘Melody of Little Maple.’ An old elvish song my sister once taught me, and one that’d restored loads of the vampire king’s memories.

The world is mine!

Treasures so divine!

Out I go to wander and see!

Oh, how magnificent to be a leaf so full of glee!

Finally, Caer finally spoke to me.

“Hello, precious one,” she greeted me in my mind. “I am so glad you made it here.”

White Rose petals fell around me, the room blurring ever so slightly, vibrating with the pulse of elvish magic.

“I’m glad you’re back,” I responded. “You’ve been offline for a lot of drama.”

“I know. I saw.”

The melody hung in the air, keeping its grip on the room and everyone in it. My parents were on their feet, and time seemed to slow.

I was her conduit, my song not really mine, but hers. She worked through me to get things done. When it came to the rune disks, she’d use me again to absorb their power, sticking by the one-shot rule of using them.

Once the Carving Glade was open again, she’d get back to the business of having Carvers working on new disks after being locked out for so long.

Lia was a Carver, Alistair a Druid. A maker of spells, and a caster of spells.

Did this all connect? Is that why Caer chose me to be her vessel? Because I was the gatekeeper’s son?

Hmmm. I couldn’t help but ask.

“I assure you,” she responded, “your lineage is purely coincidental.”

“Convenient, huh?”

“You were not chosen because your father is the gatekeeper, but because you shone the brightest. Shinier than any other elf in existence, wreathed in the promise of change. Much like you were written to be the love of Silvanus’s life, you are also written to be the hope of this world.”

Oof! It all landed as heavy blows, practically reaching my bones.

“I’m just a puppet,” I complained.

“A conduit for the greater good.”

That term grated against my patience. Fine. It was all written in the fucking stars. Whatever. The sooner it was over, the sooner I could run away and hide.

With the vampire king?

“What happens next?” I asked her, rolling my shoulders.

“I am sorry you have been cursed by this wretched knife.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

Although she wasn’t particularly approving of my relationship with the vampire, she did see him as an ally. And she wanted me alive, so I guess she was sincere. It just didn’t help that she delivered her lines with as much feeling as my left trainer telling me it loved me. Which would freak me out if it did.

It might just be me, but I always found her to be quite standoffish. A little stern mixed with snooty indifference.