They ducked into the cottage and left their jugs near the hearth for their mother before all three of them ventured out toward the hills on the far side of the garden.
“I’ve thought about men,” Circe whispered when they were far enough away from home to feel alone. Medea hadn’t realized she’d even heard their conversation. “After we conjured the grimoire, I wondered if we could conjure mates in the same way. I think I would like to know a man.”
Isis’s dark brows rose. “You want to conjure a man? What if you try and accidentally summon a beast or an ugly slob who paws at you incessantly?”
Circe laughed. “What if he’s a prince? I’d like to kiss a prince.”
They arrived at the hillside where the golden sheep roamed. The round balls of gold fluff wandered away from them as they neared, their lips never leaving the emerald grasses on which they grazed.
“Anyway,” Medea said. “I can’t stop obsessing over the idea that Mother and Father didn’t think it through. Yes, we are safe here in the garden, but we are alone. We are forever children, never to know love or the feel of a man.”
A shadow passed through Isis’s expression. “Only if we stay forever.”
They all stared at each other, all levity draining from their features. Leaving the garden was something they never spoke of. But wasn’t that why they’d conjured the book to begin with? They’d been frightfully interested in learning what was out there. They wanted to exceed their parents’ abilities and needed a teacher from the outside.
Medea pulled out the gem that held the golden grimoire and held it up to the light. “Considering we don’t particularly want to risk summoning a pawing slob, what shall we practice today?”
“I’d like to fly,” Circe said.
Medea laughed. “Fly?”
Isis shrugged. “We’ve levitated many things of all shapes and sizes. Why not ourselves?”
The pages flipped like a kaleidoscope inside the facets as Medea turned the gem. She focused her intention on their goal—flight. Her mind immediately jumped to Tavyss and his wings. The pages stopped flipping.
“Here’s one.” She handed the gem to Isis.
“Transformation?” Isis shot her an incredulous glance. “Instead of magical levitation, you wish to give us wings?”
Circe snatched the stone from Isis’s hands. “Will the wings actually work?”
“Only for as long as the spell is active. It’s not permanent.”
Isis’s smile held a hint of madness. “Let’s do it.”
One by one they committed the spell to memory, formed a circle, and began. Isis used mud to trace symbols on her sisters’ shoulder blades with her finger and shifted to allow Circe to draw the same pattern on her own. Isis drew the same symbol on the earth to act as an anchor. At Medea’s request, Circe collected and mixed a concoction of herbs that each of them drank despite its foul odor. Then Medea sang the book’s incantation.
Dark gossamer wings sprang from Isis’s back first, followed by Circe’s and finally Medea’s. The three sisters bounced, giddy with excitement.
“We’ve done it!” Isis pushed off into the air, flapping her new wings and delighting in their capabilities.
Medea took a mighty leap, the muscles of her back straining as she dipped and soared with her sisters over the grazing sheep. After some time, she broke from her sisters and coasted over the tops of the trees, hoping to find Tavyss at their usual meeting place.
Joy seized her heart when she found him crouched, waiting in the same tree where she’d first seen him. Warmth blossomed inside her at the sight, as if her spirit had lit a candle inside her chest. Heart fluttering, she flew from behind him and landed on the same branch.
His arm slammed into her gut and turned her effortlessly on the tree branch, thrusting her up against the trunk. The move was so quick, so practiced, she found herself too breathless to make a sound. She stared up at him. Her heart hammered, jarred into action by fear but also something else, something she couldn’t quite name.
“Medea?” His eyes drifted over her face and the wings. He loosened his grip but planted his hands on either side of her shoulders, caging her in. The heat of his nearness warmed her through her thin dress.
“It’s me,” she said, overwhelmed by his strength and presence.
His dark wings lorded over his shoulders, shading her. There was a talon as long as her hand at the tip of each one, and she couldn’t help but think how easily he could tear her apart if he wanted to. Thank all the gods she did not believe he wanted to. Even now recognition was dawning and his expression softening.
His dark eyes traced the length of her wings. “I didn’t know you could fly.”
Their gazes locked, and Medea’s lower abdomen filled with a strange and weighty need. Any fear she’d felt before was jarred loose by a powerful wave of heat that warmed her cheeks. Her skin tingled. She swallowed hard and felt her lids flutter at the intensity between them.
She wiggled her temporary wings. “I… I guess I’m full of surprises.”
He blinked those arresting golden eyes and retreated along the broad branch of the tree. “I wanted to see you again.”
That admission made her stomach quiver, and she shifted on the branch, her blood racing when their eyes met. Her tongue felt thick as she responded. “I hoped to see you again too. These meetings, they’re becoming a habit.”
His impossibly full lips twitched, and he peered at her from under half-lowered lids. “I hope I didn’t scare you. I didn’t know it was you.”
She braced her hands on the trunk behind her. “I was startled, but I don’t feel I’m in any danger with you. After all, aren’t you here to guard me?”
“It is my duty.” He blessed her with the full force of his smile.
“I feel safer already.” She glanced down at the water below them and then back up at him, but the warm ache he inspired didn’t lessen in the least. “Where did you learn to do that? You moved so fast. Had I been an enemy, I would have surrendered immediately.”
His expression grew serious. “I trained as a warrior since my youth. It is the way of my people, and it’s why Hera asked me to guard the gate.”
That surprised her. She’d assumed he’d always been here. A creation of the gods. “You’re not from here? I mean, originally?”
“No. In fact that book I gave you, The Saddle of Arythmetes, it is from my home world.”
“You’re from Paragon?” It made sense now, but she’d never put it together.
He inclined his head. “Medea… do you mind that I come to see you as often as I do? It has been a long time since I’ve had… a friend, if I can call you that, and I find myself in need of one today.”
She licked her bottom lip, the smile fading from her face as she digested his words. “I’m glad you came. And I am your friend. I’ve enjoyed our meetings more than I can say.”
He glanced down at the rippling pool. “If I tell you something, can you keep my secret?”
“The Guardian at the Gate has a secret? I’m intrigued.”
“I am serious, Medea. You can tell no one. Not even your sisters.” He shook his head.
“I won’t tell anyone.” She sensed now the gravity of his secret and reached across the branch to take his hand in hers. Touching him was far better than looking at him. Heat radiated from his skin and seemed to travel through her body, hot enough to melt the top off a box full of butterflies that now fluttered madly inside her. She tried not to fixate on the smooth edge of his jaw. “You can trust me, Tavyss. I can see something is bothering you. Tell me.”
He squeezed her hand. “I wasn’t always the Guardian at the Gate. Before… in Paragon… I was supposed to be king.”
She blinked rapidly, her gaze snapping from his mouth to his eyes. “Excuse me, did you say king?”
He stared at their coupled hands. “I am the eldest heir to the kingdom of Paragon on a world called Ouros. I was destined to rule as co-regent alongside my sister.”
“I didn’t want to be king.” With one hand, he rubbed his eyes and frowned. “No, that’s not exactly true. I didn’t want to rule with my sister. Eleanor is cruel and vicious. You’ve never known a viler person.” His lips tightened into a scowl. “She and my younger brother took turns making my life a living hell in the palace. The idea of ruling by her side for two thousand years per our custom made me long to give up my immortality just to escape the obligation. It felt more like a prison sentence than my destiny.”
She rubbed her thumb over his hand. “You agreed to help Hera here, to escape your destiny?”
He nodded. “As my coronation drew near, I ran away. Left Paragon and traveled to a remote island north of the five kingdoms.” He shook his head. “You have no idea what I’m talking about, do you?”
“I do! I’ve read the book you gave me. The five kingdoms of Ouros are Paragon, Darnuith, Everfield, Nochtbend. I don’t remember the last one.”
“Rogos, the kingdom of the elves.”
His long lashes fluttered in the most mesmerizing way, and thankfully he changed course. “I met Hera on an island called Kryptos, north of Paragon, in the realm of the gods. She offered me an escape. I have food, a home, a nymph who sews and cleans for me, work. And I am free from the expectations of my birth.”
“If this is what you wanted, what vexes you now? Or are you trying to woo me with your title?” She arched a brow.
The dimple was back, and his amber eyes twinkled mischievously. “I believe I would like to woo you, Medea, but you don’t strike me as the type to be moved easily. I do not believe wealth or prestige would suit your fancy.”
A smile spread her lips wide. How could he know her so well already? “I’ve never had any use for either.”
“No, you wouldn’t have. But then what would woo you? What do you dream about at night when you are alone?”
His burning gaze slowly raked down her body, and she thought she might combust at the answering heat it produced in her.
“Knowledge,” she admitted. “If there is one thing I value, it is knowledge. My experience in this garden is so limited. Indeed, I cherish my time with you. You always… take me away from this place.”
“Then I will continue to share my stories and pray I further garner your affection.”
Medea paused, squeezing his hand. “What was it you were saying before? I find you utterly distracting.”
He offered her a half smile. “The feeling is mutual.” A pained look crossed his face. “Hera has asked me to go back to Paragon, to look for something she’s lost. I cannot refuse her.”
“You seem reluctant.”
“I am dreading it. I want nothing to do with my sister Eleanor or my younger brother Brynhoff. I fear my siblings will not take kindly to my visit. They will assume I’ve returned for the crown, and they will most definitely attempt to remove the competition.”
Medea’s heart thudded uncomfortably at the implied threat. “Do you mean they might… become violent?”
“There is nothing my sister would like better than to see my head on a pike.”
The awful thought caused Medea’s chest to tighten. She hadn’t experienced much violence and couldn’t imagine such a family. She squeezed his hand and urged him to continue.
“I’m a fair warrior in my world,” he explained. “Neither one of them could defeat me in one-on-one combat, but they have the benefit of each other, not to mention rule over the Obsidian Guard—that’s the royal army of the kingdom of Paragon. I no longer have any standing in the royal court. They could have me executed on a whim.”
The thought filled Medea with the darkest form of dread. “You simply can’t go then,” she blurted.
He barked a hard laugh. “I’m afraid even a dragon must obey a goddess if he wants to avoid a very uncomfortable situation.”
“You mean having your head on a pike here rather than there.” Tears welled in her eyes when he affirmed her suspicions. She couldn’t even think of Tavyss being in such danger. He was her friend, and she absolutely must do something to help him.
“Medea? Medea?” Her sisters called to her from the woods.
“I must go…,” she said. “My sisters will wonder where I am.”
He dropped her hand, looking dejected. “I understand. I’ve taken too much of your time today. Thank you for your kind ear.”
“Don’t be silly. I hope you will be back tomorrow.” She beamed up at him.
“I cannot put off Hera’s mission for long.”
“Tavyss, before you go to Paragon, will you see me again? Tomorrow in the orchard? I may have something that will help you.” Medea squeezed his arm and prayed he’d give the plan that was formulating in her brain a chance before he put himself at risk.
He spread his wings. “You’ve already helped me. Believe me, listening is likely all anyone could do.”
“Please,” she said. “Tomorrow. In the orchard.”
He gave her a dashing smile. “I’d consider it an honor.”
Chapter Six
Although it was risky to delay doing Hera’s bidding, Tavyss decided to wait to go to Paragon, in no small part because of Medea. He doubted she could actually help him in any way with his problem, but he couldn’t say no to another meeting with her. She was a mystery, an enigma. Yesterday he’d discovered she did have wings like a nymph, and she’d said she was born in the garden, but she was unlike any creature he’d ever known. Unique. Special.
When he did go to Paragon, if Eleanor and Brynhoff had their murderous way, he might never see her again. He’d make the most of his last hours here and tell her what she meant to him. After, he’d hand himself over to his fate.
The next afternoon, he spread his wings and soared over the orchard, its golden apples sparkling like a galaxy of stars in the sunlight. He smiled when he saw her, but his excitement turned into something more. His body reacted as it never had before, and his mind flashed back to when she was naked, floating on the water. His dragon coiled and chuffed. A gritty inner voice whispered, Mine.
The dragon’s claim surprised him. It was no small thing for a dragon to take an interest in a potential mate. Among his kind, mating bonds were sacred and permanent. Dragons who bonded and somehow lost their mates were known to beg for death rather than live after that holy link was severed.
Which meant, at least to his inner dragon, Medea had become far more than a friend. He wanted her. He could not deny it. For his dragon to wish to bond with her, that was far more serious and more dangerous.
Below him, he spotted the three sisters. Angry words reached his ears, and he silently came to rest on a branch, making himself invisible to avoid notice. He focused all his attention on the argument happening below him.
“Since when do you need time alone?” Circe asked. Medea spoke of her often and he deduced it was her based on her lighter complexion.
Medea crossed her arms over her chest. “It will help all of us. I want to get in touch with my personal magic. Meditate. Study and practice.”
“We’ve always practiced together,” Isis protested, her darker skin and eyes his clue to her identity. “Where is this coming from? Where did you go yesterday afternoon?”
There was a long pause. Medea cast her gaze around her. Was she looking for him? She fisted her hands and punched straight down at her sides. “I’ve made a friend. A male friend.”
Circe and Isis looked at each other in wide-eyed wonder.
“What kind of male friend?” Isis asked.
“Is he a nymph?” Circe added, pursing her lips.
Medea shook her head. “He’s a… dragon.”
The two sisters’ dual expressions of astonishment must have hit Medea hard, because she crossed her arms against them. “He turns into a man. A man… with wings.”
“But… how?” Isis shook her head. “Where did he come from?”
“He guards the gate.” M
edea sighed heavily, her shoulders slumping. “He saw us that afternoon in the marigold field.”
She closed her eyes against the onslaught of sharp language they flung her way.
Tavyss was tempted to reveal himself. The urge to protect Medea was almost undeniable. Listening to them attack her and not intervening was torture, and he balled his hands into fists. But if there was one incontrovertible truth about Medea, it was that she loved her sisters. If he revealed himself, he couldn’t ensure things wouldn’t get complicated, and he’d never forgive himself for hurting ones that she loved.
“No, Medea! You cannot be friends with this male. He could—”
She raised her hand to Circe and shook her head. “I told him about us… that we were born here in the garden. He’s understanding and kind. He won’t hurt you.”
The sisters exchanged glances.
“He was accepting?” Circe asked.
“Very… accepting.” Medea smiled then. “He’s kind and handsome. The power he puts off, I can feel it. It makes my skin tingle.”
Above her, Tavyss couldn’t stop himself from grinning until his cheeks hurt. She thought he was handsome. He leaned in, hoping she’d say more.
Circe brushed her fingertips over her bottom lip. “Truly?”
“Yes. But you must leave now. He is supposed to meet me here, soon, at this very hour.”
Isis and Circe exchanged glances before finally seeming to cave to Medea’s plea. Isis offered up a wicked smile. “Very well, sister, we will leave you to your male friend, but we expect a full report.”
“Agreed.” The tension in Medea’s shoulders seemed to ease as her sisters left the clearing and traveled down the path toward the pool.
Tavyss dropped his invisibility and soared down to Medea. “Thank you for saying those things about me.”
Medea frowned. “I didn’t know you were there.”
“I… I am sorry. I should not have listened in on your private conversation, but I came to see you and overheard—”
She waved a hand dismissively. “Then you know that yes, I told them about you. I hope that was okay. You never asked me to keep your existence a secret.”
The Tanglewood Witches Page 10