Woe for a Faerie Page 20

  I turned the knob on his bedroom door and pushed it open.

  Arún’s breath tickled the nape of my neck. I jumped forward, startled by the sudden nearness, and he pulled me against him.

  I flailed when he dropped the luggage, flipped me around, and scooped me up into his arms to lift me over the threshold.

  “I won’t drop you, my Queen.” He kissed my mouth and deposited me on the plush floor. “Home,” he said. “I want to take you home to meet my family.”

  In his room, a fire burned in the imitation fireplace. Flames danced across the pretend logs. When he had explained about the logs, I’d wanted to feel a fake piece of wood and had been horrified to find that the blaze was real. The leather furniture was immaculate. The simple décor skewed Spartan. He claimed he didn’t like cluttered walls.

  The thick carpet muffled our footsteps. I crossed my arms. I hadn’t met his people yet. The closest I had come had been a fly-through vision. Arún was Fae royalty. His father was the King of the realm he came from. A lot of pressure resulted. I swallowed.

  “I’m not like you. It’s going to be a problem.”

  He dropped into an oversized recliner in the corner and pulled me into his lap. He buried his hands in my hair and pulled me near. He pressed his lips to my forehead. Then, without a word, he stared into my eyes, searching for something. His pupils reflected the lamplight, wild, untamed. Finally satisfied with what he saw, he trailed a line of kisses to my ear, quieting my worry with his peace.

  “Woe,” he whispered, “we’re together. That alone is future enough for me.”

  “Arún,” I sighed as I brushed my fingertips down his smooth cheek and across his mouth.

  When he whispered in my ear like that, his voice was the faraway thunder of an incoming storm. Cradled in his lap, I could believe almost anything and never care if it were true. I laid my head against his chest. The thud-thud-thud of his heartbeat soothed me. “What if they don’t like me?”

  “If – if – this is true, do not believe that this matters to me. Their hopes have not always been my own,” he said, stroking my hair.

  “Still,” I said.

  “Ssshh,” he soothed. When he shifted under me, I could tell his mind had wandered to other things. “Besides,” he said, “while we’re there, I can take you to the healers, if you wish to visit them. They will be able to tell you anything you need to know without Jason’s input.” He leaned forward to press his mouth to mine.

  I smoothed my tongue along his bottom lip, and he groaned, moving beneath me. He pushed his hand into my hair, holding me gently, but deepening the kiss until all my worry drained away and blue magic swirled around us both.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to…” I winked at him. “You know.”

  He froze, considering. “No, not yet.”

  “I would be okay with—”

  He put his hand up. “Don’t say it.”

  My shoulders sagged. He wanted to wait. It was not what I expected from the sexiest man I knew. Jason flicked through my thoughts.

  The sexiest man I knew that actually wanted me.

  Arún’s eyes twinkled. “I don’t just want you. I crave you.”

  Later, I traced the tattooed designs on Arún’s forearms while he read recipes on the couch. During the day, the black ink flames never moved, but in the moonlight, the marks came alive and danced up and down his muscles. Lunar beams supercharged Arún’s magic, as if the hulking Fae wasn’t impressive enough on his own.

  He tugged me closer, muttering something in his native language. Then he said, “Are you ready?”

  “I think so.”

  “All packed?”

  “Sure.”

  A moment later, Arún crossed the room to the bookshelf. He grabbed six half-geodes from the shelves.

  “Always there, but never seen,” he said. It was the third time I had witnessed those little geodes work their magic, but, rather than exposing a dungeon, this portal opened into a throne room.

  Across the hall, in a vacant room, two thrones—one gold, one silver—rested at the top of a dais. Eleven steps to the top. Intricate gilding covered every surface, half in gold, half in silver.

  Arún waved his hand toward the empty seats. “Gold is Dad’s. Silver is Mom’s.”

  My eyes widened. They took this royalty business seriously in Arún’s home world. “So do you have one?” I asked.

  He winked. “Now why might you be interested in my throne?” He waggled his eyebrows at me as he picked up my bag.

  “Don’t you have a bag?”

  He shook his head. “Don’t need one. I have a wardrobe here. Besides, if I want something when I’m over for a visit, my mother drags me out to the shops.” He curled his upper lip. “She lives for the chance to take me shopping.”

  He motioned with his free hand for me to step through first. The portal geodes made it as simple as walking from the living room to the bedroom. No noise or sensation indicated the change from one atmosphere to another. He tapped his chin and stepped through after me. “You know what?”

  “What?”

  “This year, you’ll get to be the one to go shopping,” he said.

  Oh, no, I couldn’t go shopping. I hated shopping. My version of shopping meant searching the clothes-donation box at Jason’s church. I shook my head. “No, no, I brought my own things.”

  We arrived without ado.

  The throne room encompassed a much larger area than I anticipated. Three stories high, built of smooth black stone, streaked with a rainbow of colors in a marble pattern. Embroidered tapestries draped the walls, depicting hunting scenes, dances, families, trees.

  I couldn’t read the writing, but the vast number of images implied a history that pre-dated humans. Wonderstruck, I stood, slack-jawed and mouth wide open. Arún left all this to come and wait for me in a place where he didn’t belong.

  He held up my suitcase. “We’ll see about that. If your case had an accident, you might need a whole new wardrobe.”

  I groaned. For sure, I would never fit in here.

  35

  Handcuffs

  Arún

  The palace wasn’t home anymore. That much rang true.

  My arrival lacked the familiar relief of being among my own kind.

  Two portal attendants rushed forward. One took Woe’s bag immediately and disappeared down the corridor. The other hovered over us until I sent him away.

  I’d be glad to be back to my apartment. The royal portal arrival area opened in view of the throne room. Everything in sight had been gilded or silvered. His and Hers. High ceiling throughout and an opulence as yet unmatched.

  As Woe scanned our surroundings, her eyes widened, and she chewed her bottom lip. Her pallor skewed green. “Is this where you live?”

  “I live in New Haven City.” I touched her elbow. “But this is where I am from.”

  Trembling, she winced and then clasped her hands in front of her.

  I clasped my hands behind my back. “What would you like to do first?”

  “See your quarters. Freshen up.” Her gaze darted from Fae to Fae. “All the women wear dresses. I should change my clothes.”

  “No matter. You are my guest, and you can wear what you like.” I motioned for her to move through an adjacent door. Once through, I offered my arm.

  To my surprise, she took it and then laced her hands together. The taut line of her mouth relaxed slightly. I patted her hand. Bringing her comfort brought me delight.

  Home is where the heart is. The sentiment rang true. My heart belonged with Woe, and Woe lived in New Haven City.

  Keeping to the least-used corridors, I escorted Woe to my rooms. Two doormen, each clad in silks and armed with spears, let us in and closed the door behind us.

  Once inside, Woe removed her hand from my arm, but I determined to offer my assistance any time I could. Her hand on my arm pleased me in a way I had not expected.

  Two of my New Haven City apartments would fit inside t
he living area of my palace quarters. “Please make yourself comfortable, Woe. Use anything I have. Everything I own is yours.”

  Her throat worked as though she swallowed over and over. She opened her mouth and closed it. Twice.

  “What is it?”

  “Where do I sleep?” she whispered.

  I gestured toward one side of the living area, her suitcase barely visible inside the far room. “Your suite.”

  “Uh.” She stared at her toes and then cleared her throat. “Where do you sleep?”

  I pointed to the opposite side. “My suite.”

  Her shoulders drooped. “Oh.”

  I frowned. “Do you wish to share a room?” I took a step toward the door. “Perhaps that can be arranged.”

  Her hands fluttered at her collar. “Oh, no, I hadn’t considered whether or not we’d be sharing a room until we walked in and then I wasn’t sure what impression I had given.”

  “I will never ask more than you’re willing to give or assume anything,” I said.

  “A prudent choice,” she said, placing her hand on the door. “I think I’d like to change now.”

  I bowed low. “As you wish, my queen.”

  When I straightened, her mouth had opened to a shocked “oh.”

  She smoothed her palms over her thighs. “Will they call me that here? I don’t think I can deal with that.”

  “They have no reason to do so. You are my guest. Nothing more.”

  Her expression softened. “That makes me feel better.”

  I couldn’t tell her that I had never had a female guest in the palace. Everyone would infer a certain level of attachment between us. Borrowed troubles stole years from otherwise happy moments. I wouldn’t let that happen.

  “If you need anything, please ask the attendants at the door. They cannot leave their post, but they can send for others who can.”

  “I will.” She still stared at her feet.

  “If you are comfortable, and if it’s alright with you, I have some business to conduct with my sister, Ishka. It will take an hour or two.”

  That brought her chin up. “Your sister Ishka? The one that made you promise to wait for me in New Haven City?”

  “That’s the very one. You’ll meet her soon.”

  For a moment, she considered. Then she offered a small smile. “I’ll be fine.”

  “I think you’ll be more than fine.”

  A light blush dusted her cheeks. “I hope so.”

  “I know so.” I bowed slightly and then made my way back to the exit.

  “I’m looking forward to dinner with you.”

  That brought me up short, and I turned toward her.

  She beamed at me. “And Arún?”

  “Yes, Woe?” She had my attention.

  “Thank you.”

  Those two little words put wings on my feet, and I flew through the corridors, already anxious to return to Woe.

  Ishka and I strolled on the paths that crisscrossed her secret garden. Gravel crunched beneath our feet. Blossoms filled the air with soft scents.

  I admired the tree in the center of the walled-in place. She’d been growing the sapling since her youth. She’d trained the tendrils to curl in long strands, and the trunk had grown so thick that neither of us could reach all the way around it. Magic filled the sentient tree.

  Unveiled in her private gardens, her facial scars, the most-obvious reminder and remainder of a blight that burned through our Fae women, had faded some with time. The healers could work wonders with scars, but Ishka had refused. She never shied away from me, and I hoped she never did.

  Hum-Fairy houses graced several branches. A green light darted from one side of the canopy to the other. Woe’s little friend had returned to her favorite place with my sister.

  I held up my hand, and the Hum-Fairy stopped a moment in my palm to say hello. When she went on her way, I resumed the mind-speak conversation with Ishka.

  Do you have the handcuffs?

  Ishka crossed to her gardening basket and pulled intricately carved set of handcuffs from inside. She laid them in my hands. “The guard didn’t want to believe me.”

  “But he did.” I elbowed her.

  “It took some work.”

  “You’re still the best conjuror in the realm.”

  “Tell that to mother and father.”

  A slight breeze blew through the garden, stirring fallen leaves. “I have one more favor to ask of you, sister. As we are headed toward a showdown with evil, this request will be one of personal importance.”

  It’s not the first time you’ve been in danger or gone into battle, she said.

  It’s different this time.

  How so?

  I can’t explain it, but the coming moment weighs heavy on my mind. We must take precautions. If things went the way I expected, I wouldn’t regret my caution. I have a promise to keep, and I must make a way to keep it.

  My sister placed her hands on her hips. “What is it, brother? And why do I feel like this is one of those things you’re going to ask me not to tell mother and father?”

  I chuckled then. I never could hide anything from her. “You’re always right.”

  “Why so serious?”

  “It could be a matter of life and death.”

  “Whose?”

  “My own.”

  She leaned close. “Show me what you have in your mind.”

  I tapped my chin. “I need your help with a task in the crystal room.”

  36

  The Shifter

  Jason

  I banged on Vic’s door. A groan came from behind, and I had to keep my mind on the task at hand not what was probably happening inside. The noise gave Lev’s noise complaint weight.

  “Vic,” I bellowed.

  Lev called upstairs to complain about a commotion in Vic’s room. Vic yelled at someone, and the someone roared back at her. Probably another yeti. I would never understand how she wound up with a yeti fetish.

  She peered through the porthole. The glass warped her face into a gargoyle-like expression. She ducked out of view and the wheel turned. She threw the hatch open and leaned on the riveted door, clothed only in a t-shirt with Gamer Babe emblazoned across her chest. Haphazard curls fell around her face.

  “Hello, Jason, what can I do for you?” The hairstyle softened her somehow. The change caught me off guard.

  “Cut it out, will ya?” The words less stern than I meant them to be. Frank’s death wearied me, making me more tired than I had been in a long time.

  “Oh, I’ve tried,” she said. “It’s better if I just go with it.”

  It sounded like her furniture was being moved around the room. A yowl cut the air. I guess Mr. Hairy had banged his toe on something.

  “How is your bedroom even big enough?” I had never figured that one out. Her bed couldn’t possibly stand up to a yeti. The huge creatures would snap anything they sat on.

  She gave me a knowing look and the corners of her mouth turned up. “Oh, we make do.” She checked her watch. “Did you need something, Jay?”

  Vic resorted to nicknames for everyone, like it streamlined conversations and got us to the point faster. It had been her idea that everyone call her Vic.

  “I need help. This peacock shifter, she eats brainwaves. Once she’s freed, what’s going to stop her from feasting on anyone and everyone? I think there might be a way that we can keep her fed and keep everyone alive.”

  “I’m listening,” said Vic. I tried to ignore her long legs. I blamed Woe for my new, middle-aged preoccupation with feminine details. Though, I should probably blame Vic, too. She always answered her door half-naked.

  I reined in my brain-wandering. Back to the point at hand. “New Haven City is stuffed with people,” I said. “We should be able to siphon off a little psychic energy from everybody, which, all put together, might be enough to keep our new friend fed.”

  Vic tilted her head, caught in the planning already. Problem solving was right up her
alley. “I bet I could make a siphon that collects the brainwaves and stores them in a tank until the shifter gets hungry.”

  Her immediate plan had been the best that I had been able to come up with after working on it all night. But I wasn’t going to tell her so. I asked, “Could you make something like that?”

  “So… a lightning rod for psychic energy in New Haven City that connects to a tank?” She glanced back at her bedroom. “Sure, I can try to work something up.” She pushed the door closed, but I stopped it with my hand. Vic sighed.

  “Thank you for your help,” I said. Vic valued gratitude.

  She ducked her head to hide the grin, embarrassed by the attention but lapping it up anyway. Eccentric to the nth degree, she had a wonderful heart.

  37

  Arrival

  Woe

  Royal Home, Eilean Ren, Capital of the Kingdom, Fae Realm

  A sweet scent moved in the light breeze. Orange, red, and yellow trees swayed beside those in Arún’s favorite shade of green. Arún assured me that the weather remained consistently autumnal, but warmer and less dreary than New Haven City. Lake water never turned cold. Winter never came and the trees never lost their color or their leaves.

  From the balcony off of Arún’s living quarters, I studied the beautiful city built of ancient stone. Arún had tried to teach me the name before he had gone to find his parents, but I had as much trouble pronouncing it as I had with his own name. I gave up.

  A zephyr stirred the shimmering silks I wore. Arún had surprised me with a dress made of deep purples, blues, and teals, with a matching, jewel-encrusted ring and belt knife. The leather cord created from a feral Fae creature that lived in the wilds surrounding the capital city. The thin blade stretched only five inches, sheathed in jeweled leather.

  Bursts of color lit up the streets as Fae used their magic here and there. Each Fae had a shade of magic unique to them, and all the colors danced in the light from the spire at the center of the acropolis. The Fae did not have a sun-star, but had ignited the same chemical reaction in an orb at the tip of the tower. The council maintained a smaller reaction than our sun, enough to heated and light the city without excess.