Destiny by Jason A. Cheek Read Free Book Online Page A

silver black-streaked hair away from her face. Pulling the silken shawl around her shoulders even tighter, Lúthien ducked into the damp corridor closing the panel behind her. As she climbed the stairs, Lúthien’s delicate filigree necklace chimed softly with each step as she headed back into the keep.
    The secret passage was a little too cool for her silken attire. Already she could feel goose bumps rising on her smooth skin as she skittered down the corridor quickly. Her short silken halter top and thin loose pants were better suited for the hot midday sun then these dank passageways, but she would only need to be in them for a few short moments.
    “Let’s see Argus find her now.” Argus sense of smell was phenomenal, even for a Wenci. He always won the princesses games of hide-and-seek. Normally, Lúthien hid with her cousin Enelya Tasartir, Princess of the Wild Elves, but Argus always seemed to find them first. Even though Enelya promised that he didn’t use their spirit link to track them down. Losing to a lesser species was intolerable, so this time, Lúthien wasn’t taking any chances.
    From what Lúthien knew of the spirit link a Wild Elf and their animal companion shared, it wasn’t true telepathy. From what treatises she’d read on the subject during her studies it was more of an empathic sharing of emotions and feelings. Although some of the stories she’d read on the subject had hinted that there was more to the relationship than just the sharing of emotions, nothing more had ever been officially substantiated about the binding. Except for the hearsays and rumors listed in the margins of her tombs, there was no additional information she’d discovered in her research of the Sál Tengilinn affect.
    Lúthien had tried to get Enelya to tell her about the link she shared with Argus, but her enigmatic cousin wouldn’t say anything more on the subject. Sometimes she could be so frustrating like that. Still, she didn’t comprehend how anyone could just turn off that kind of connection.
    Even though Enelya wasn’t a High Elf, Lúthien still loved her cousin. Unlike many of her Clan, she didn’t hold the Wild Elves’ nature against them. Although, she wasn’t about to lose another round to that dumb beast either. Lúthien crept up the steps until the dark passage let out into a seldom used alcove on the keep’s third level near her father’s private library as her thoughts drifted to the current conflicts between the Clans of her people.
    The first rift started when the Wild Clan first spirit-bonded with their Wenci companions. While this bonding had strained the relationship between the Clans, the true schism hadn’t come until after the battle of Daeron Fortress, when the High and Forest Clans had turned their focus into learning the arcane knowledge of the Klavikians and the power it held to fight the Tuonellian Hordes invading their world.
    It was the Wild Clan’s refusal to give up their traditional spirit magic that had infuriated the other Clans and had made them social pariahs. No matter what Lúthien personally thought, the edicts of the Council of Elders were expected to be followed, especially after the deaths of so many of their people. Over the preceding years it was this continued refusal to follow the will of the Council on this one point that had allowed the conflict to deteriorate almost to the point of open warfare between the clans.
    Still, Lúthien didn’t understand the intense animosity of her people on this subject. Before the invasion this would have never been an issue. The Wild Clan would have been allowed to follow the traditions of their people without question, but something had drastically changed within her people. Over the last eight years the essence of her people had begun to change in comparatively small but significant ways. Something typically only associated with the shorter lived races of Irlendria.
    Studying the dusty old books that lined the shoves of the small