The draug snarled at Trik and Trik snarled back. He lunged at the animal but pulled up short and quickly faked to the right and then revers ed left. The draug tried to keep up, but swiftness wasn’t its strong suit. Trik hated to kill the beast as he knew it was just doing what it had been told, but he knew that the draug wouldn’t stop until Trik was dead. The draug headed at him again in a dead run and Trik ran forward rushing him. He yelled a battle cry and as he jumped he spun so that his sword met the draug’s neck and slit it open. The large animal’s front legs gave way and he slid to a halt, the rest of its body crashing down behind it. Blood poured from the mortal wound at its throat and Trik watched as the life faded from the great beast’s eyes.

He walked over to where the draug lay, defeated and lifeless. Trik shook his head at the loss, sheathed his sword and continued his journey. Once again he ran, fast and hard, he pushed himself and when Cassie’s face appeared in his mind he pushed even harder.

A day passed before Trik fell under attack again. This time Lorsan sent a lindir. One might look at the small birdlike creature and think it harmless, but its name meant singer and they did indeed sing. A lindir would sing you right off a cliff. They had the power to enthrall a person with their song and the person would follow the lindir anywhere it lead.

As soon as Trik saw the small creature he tore off a strip from the bottom of his shirt, quickly tore the strip in two and stuffed the pieces in his ears. He watched as the lindir flew closer, its birdlike bodies flapping up and down. The lindir watched Trik with faces resembling a feline animal. They waited, and when he did not follow, they flew even closer. Trik slowly shrugged off his bow from his shoulder and pulled an arrow from his quiver. He notched the arrow and released it at one of the lindir. It hit the creature before it could react and fell dead to the ground. The other lindir looked at each other and then back at Trik. He notched another arrow but didn’t have to even raise his bow. The lindir were flying away leaving him once again alone in a land no longer his own.

On the fourth night Trik sat on the ground, his back propped up against a tree and closed his eyes. He felt the pain in his soul, the constant ache that was his ever present company and he sent the call out to his mate.

“I’m coming,” his soul cried out. “My Chosen, my love, I’m coming, do not give up on me, do not cast me aside.”

Trik waited. He held his breath as all of time seemed to stand still. Even the trees stopped swaying and the scurrying of animals ceased as they wait ed for the answering call of the soul of the King’s Chosen.

One, two, three. Trik’s heart beat in his chest, a drum counting down the time. He opened his eyes as he felt his heart sink. His head dropped forward and he grasped his head in his hands and gritted his teeth to keep from crying out in anger, in pain, in loneliness.

“Triktapic,” so softly was his name that he nearly missed it and had he given into the impulse to scream his indignation he definitely would have missed the soft voice. He recognized it instantly. It was the same voice that had called out to him when Cassie had been at the party with another male. Her soul. Her soul was answering his call.

“Triktapic,” he heard again.

“I’m here,” his own soul answered back and it was as natural as breathing to have the very core of him reaching out for its other half.

“Something is wrong,” he heard the distress and fear in her and his own fear perked up.

“Is she hurt?” Trik asked her.

“Not today.”

Trik snarled. “What do you mean not today, my love?” He softened his tone as he felt her pull away at his anger.

“She has been beaten, but not today. Something is wrong, she drinks a liquid and it makes me fuzzy and I cannot control her. She does things that she would not normally do.”

Trik closed his eyes. He steeled himself for the answer of his next question knowing that it could possibly make him go mad.

“Has anyone touched her?” Trik felt the confusion in Cassie’s soul, so he clarified.

“Has she lain with an elf?”

He felt the repulsion from her at the idea of being with anyone other than her soulmate and it eased something inside him.

“No, but there is one. An elf to whom she has been promised. He told her that she was to be his Bound. I keep trying to remind her of who you are, her mind does not remember, her heart is so broken, so fragmented that she runs from the very memory of you. You must get here, Trik, you must, before the Dark King gives us to the elf. He looks at her as only you should. He has danced with her and held her and I screamed but the drink holds her captive.”

Trik shook with murderous rage. He wanted a name, the name of the one who dared to touch his Cassie, who dared to lay claim to her, to lo ok upon her with lust and greed.

“Who is he?”

“He has given her no name and the Dark King has not used it in her presence.”

Trik’s soul battled within him as he fought to control his rage and to keep his head clear. But then his love spoke again, and all control was gone.

“He’s coming,” he felt her fear and it shook him to his core. “The elf, he’s here. Triktapic, please, he’s going to take her. Hurry my love you must hurry.”

Then she was gone. Trik never knew that silence could have a sound but it did, and it was screaming at him as he felt Cassie’s soul be ripped from him. His own soul cried out and raged inside. He jumped to his feet. He cried out to the Forest Lords imploring them for their help and felt power and strength pour into him.