I turned back to my new desk, running my hand over the marble. It was smooth and cool beneath my fingers, and I could feel the age behind the wood and stone. “This is old, isn’t it?”
Elta flashed me a bright smile. “The desk is a gift from Lady Morgana. It was her first desk when she ascended to goddesshood. She had it brought over from Cernunnos’s palace. Long before she built her own castle by the sea, she lived there with his lordship.”
Secreted away in my heart was the hope that Herne and I would never separate. Staying with one person for eternity sounded daunting, and perhaps the day would come when I would want my own space, and if that happened I would accept it. But I hoped it wouldn’t happen. I hoped that Herne and I would be happy together forever.
I sat down at the desk, leaning back against the cushioned chair. Another nod to my old home. Morgana had brought over an ergonomic chair for me. I began to open the various drawers, finding monogrammed stationery and notebooks and pens, again from the Office Shop, back in Seattle.
Elta was watching me, a merry glint in her eyes. “Lady Morgana wants you to be happy here. She did her best to outfit the castle with touches that would make it feel like home for you.”
“She did a good job.” I glanced over at the table and chairs. “Is that where you’ll tutor me?”
She nodded. “The other tutors will be here in a few days. Verily came with us, but the other two chose to stay at Cernunnos’s palace. So we’re expecting their replacements. I think you’ll like them. They’re both very intelligent but also forward thinking.”
She glanced at the clock. It was set to Earth time, Seattle’s time zone, to accommodate me. “Your studies will begin again after you’re married. Until then there are far too many wedding details to attend to. That’s also your responsibility. You must finalize your decision on the flowers. If you want centerpieces with flowers, you’ll have to send someone over to Earth to bring them back. We don’t have hothouses like you do.”
I did want flowers at my wedding, and I knew exactly what I wanted. “Shall we begin, then? If you have questions for me I’m pretty sure I can answer most of them now.”
We settled in at the table and she pulled out a notebook. I laughed. She was using a ring binder, again from the office supply store.
“What’s so funny?” Elta asked.
“For all the magic over here, you still go to my side of the pond for office supplies.”
I leaned back, relaxing. There were luxuries here we didn’t have back home. The air was clean, and at night the stars covered the sky, thanks to no light pollution.
“Okay, flowers. I want a bouquet of white roses, red carnations, and fern. Add in some baby’s breath. I don’t care if it’s passé, I like it.”
“What about the centerpieces? There will be one hundred tables in the ground hall. Each one will need a centerpiece.”
“White carnations, fern fronds, and purple tea roses. I know there are some.”
Elta quickly jotted down notes. I could read some of them—I was learning Elvish at this point—but she was so quick that I couldn’t make much out before she turned the page.
“Next—dinner. His lordship asked for something called filet mignon. I talked to the butcher and he understands which cut it is. But he wants you to choose a second protein and side dishes.”
I thought from. Better to make it simple, and hearty. “For the second protein, why don’t we have grilled salmon? And for the side dishes, I don’t know…mashed potatoes and gravy sounds good. Bread and plenty of it. A good sourdough would be nice.”
Elta paused, her pen poised above the paper. “What about the soup course? And you should choose a vegetable to go with the entrée. Then there’s the cheese course. And desserts.”
I thunked my head with my hand. Of course, it was a formal dinner. There would be multiple courses.
“Can you ask Angel to come in?”
Elta stood, setting down her pen. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. Will you be all right here? I’ll ask a guard to come in and stand with you.”
“I can’t be assassinated, so I don’t see why a guard is necessary.”
“It’s customary,” Elta said. “As you say your land, deal with it…milady.” And with a smile, she exited the room.
Ten minutes later she was back, Angel in tow. I was flipping through a magazine I had asked Herne to bring me from Seattle. I loved Science Today, and wanted to keep up with what was going on back home.
“Hey, I need your help,” I told Angel.
“What?”
“We’re figuring out the wedding dinner. I don’t know much about multi-course meals. All I know is that Herne wants filet mignon, and he’s left the rest up to me.”
We set down at the table as a maid brought morning tea. There was coffee for me, and a plate of petit fours. Or at least they looked like petit fours. Over here they called them “tiny cakes.” Which was an accurate description.
“How many courses do you usually have here?” Angel asked.
“Seven,” Elta said. “We start with an amuse-bouche. Second course is a soup course—usually a light consommé. The third course is salad—mixed greens or shaved carrots and cabbage. Fourth course is the main entrée—proteins and a side dish or two. Fifth course is a shaved ice course to clear the palate. The sixth course is dessert, and that will be the wedding cake. And then the seventh course is usually a cheese platter served with port or sherry.”
“Well, nobody’s going hungry.” I told her definitely salmon for the second protein, and mashed potatoes and gravy for the side dishes.
Angel frowned, thinking. “Second course—vegetable consommé—something light. Then a salad of frisse in a vinaigrette. Salmon, filet mignon, roasted potatoes, and steamed broccoli. Save the mashed potatoes for Thanksgiving.”
“All right, I’ll skip the gravy,” I grumbled.
“That’s good. For bread, I suggest a fluffy roll. I can provide a recipe for Hawaiian rolls to the head cook. They’re slightly sweet and very light.” She paused, and asked, “I have a favor to ask. I’d love to make your wedding cake.”
I grabbed Angel’s hand and squeezed, bringing it to my lips for a gentle kiss. “You’re my best friend, always and forever. And I want you to make my wedding cake.” I turned to Elta. “You have no idea how talented this woman is with food. In fact, Angel? If you don’t mind, I’d love for you to oversee the dinner. I trust you to make it something that everyone will love.”
Angel burst into a smile. “I’d be honored. Your wedding dinner is important—you’ll only have one. I want it to be the best it can be. Do you trust me on the flavor of the cake?”
“I trust you with my life. Of course I trust you with the cake. And Herne will too. That solves that problem. Whatever you think appropriate for the dinner, goes. That takes one task off my list.”
“Well, we’re moving along quite nicely,” Elta said. “The next matter is the guest list. Herne submitted his list to me weeks ago and I thought it covered both of you. But he reminded me that you might have friends over through the portals that he’s forgotten about. I’ll give you a copy of his list and you can add anybody who isn’t there. We’ll have to bring them over from Earth, so we need to know as soon as possible, given the wedding’s less than two weeks away. We should have done this months ago, but…”
I groaned, trying to think of who I might want to invite. And then I thought about my great-uncle, and Raven’s friends Llew and his husband, Jordan. “I’ll have it for you by tomorrow. What’s next on the agenda?”
“Your color scheme is blue, purple, silver, and white, correct?”
“Yes, with touches of hunter green.”
The color scheme matched my dress.
The dress was gorgeous, and though I’d wanted something simpler, I knew that wasn’t happening. Over the past few months, I had been pinched and pricked and poked by sewing needles and pins and thimbles to the point of where I never wanted to see another seams
tress. First they had to make the pattern, and then they had to figure out which material would work best for the dress. I’d had to approve the colors, and then they started cutting and pinning it on me. Now I understood why it could take months to make a wedding dress.
A bell sounded to the side of the room.
“What’s that?” I asked.
Elta stood. “A visitor. I’ll see who it is.” She headed toward the door.
I turned to Angel. “Elta’s going to be my secretary.” I must have looked like a deer in headlights because Angel reached out and patted me on the shoulder.
“It’s okay. It will all settle down as time goes along.” She paused, then said, “I talked to DJ about possibly becoming a goddess.”
I held my breath, waiting. If DJ was at all indecisive about it, I knew that Angel would back out. Her brother was the most important person in her life, and that was as it should be.
“He told me to go for it. He actually told me that, ever since Mama J. died, he’s been afraid he’d lose me too. Especially after I started working for the Wild Hunt. He knows how dangerous our work is—or was. And I have a much shorter lifespan than he does, and that’s been a worry to him. I had no clue he thought about mortality. I guess since Mama J. died, he had to grow up fast that way. So did I.”
“How do you feel about that?” I asked.
She shook her head. “I understand. We lost our mother—the most important person in our lives. In the blink of an eye, she was gone. It’s no wonder that he’s gun-shy about being abandoned. So I told him I’d go through with it. I warned him there was risk, but he said that if you came through it, he knew I could too.”
I let out a sigh of relief. Angel was my best friend, my twin soul, and I couldn’t imagine not having her in my life.
“I don’t think you’ll regret it. DJ will have a long lifetime, and there are ways to extend his life as well. I know I’m being selfish, but I don’t want to lose you.”
At that moment Elta returned, followed by Raven and Storm. I motioned for them to take the empty chairs, and Elta went back to her desk.
“Morning. Did you sleep well?”
Raven yawned. “I’m not used to getting up as early as I did, but I slept well.”
Storm smiled. “It’s been a long time since I slept in a good bed, so thank you. The ground isn’t exactly the most comfortable sleeping surface.” She had changed out her leather shorts for pair of khaki trousers that bloused out at the knees, tucked into knee-high leather boots. She was wearing a black and green tunic, long sleeved with a deep V-neck. Her outfit reminded me of camouflage.
I realized she was speaking English. “How did you learn to speak my language?”
Storm tossed a nod to Raven. “She taught me. I have a gift for languages and communication.”
Raven cleared her throat. “Storm rode out a two-week-long blizzard with us in Pohjola. I put her through an immersive course, you might say.”
Storm snorted. “You did not. Väinämöinen granted me the power to learn the language from you.”
“Can’t blame me for trying,” Raven said with a laugh. “She’s right. Väinämöinen told us Storm will need to know English and since we had the time, he helped her learn it.”
If Väinämöinen foresaw Storm needing to know the language, it made me curious as to what was coming down the road for her. But I decided to leave that thought alone for the moment. “Where’s Kipa?”
“He’s talking to his men. He’ll be sending one of his elite guards with Storm when she journeys to Wildemoone. We thought maybe you and Herne would have access to a couple adventurers who might want to help out. Storm can’t offer them any pay, but we can.”
Raven leaned back, looking right at home in her black leather corset, purple taffeta skirt, black and white striped tights, and her chunky platform Doc Martens that came up to her knee. Her hair was brushed back into a braid, which seemed unusual for her, but she still had a full face of makeup, and looked extremely comfortable. “You need to hear her story.”
I turned to the hedge dragon. “Do you mind telling me what happened?”
Storm shifted, looking slightly uncomfortable. But then, she must have decided I was safe, because the tale came pouring out.
Chapter Seven
“Why don’t you tell me your whole story?” I prompted.
Storm shrugged. “It’s too long for one evening, but what led to me being here is that my family sold my sister into slavery. My mother—a green dragon—needed the money. She’s been soil-bound for many years. Her wings were broken when she was young by a white dragon because she had a litter of hedge dragons. Instead of putting her out of her misery, the fucker left her. Dragons—including hedge dragons—cannot hunt or easily defend themselves if their wings are broken. Because of the injury, when she changed into human form she couldn’t change back. She’s been stuck all these years. She had to take care of all her children the best she could, in human form. She can’t die but she’ll never be able to take her natural form again. Eventually she’ll go mad.”
“And your father didn’t help?” Angel asked.
“No,” Storm said. “One thing you need to understand about my kind—the elemental lords who impregnate our mothers care nothing for the young.”
“I’m not sure I understand how this works,” I said. “Why do female dragons even have an interest in any of the elemental lords?”
“They don’t. The mothers of our race were targeted by some of the elementals. The Storm Lords are attracted by dragon magic. It doesn’t seem to faze the female elementals, but the males of the Storm Lords are drawn to the Dragonkin. Think about Zeus—how he forced himself on maidens. The Storm Lords did that to our mothers.”
“Storm Lords…they’re different than a lot of the other elementals, aren’t they?” I asked. I had only encountered a touch of their power when calling on lightning.
Storm’s eyes narrowed. “Yes, they’re the lords of lightning, of tornadoes and hurricanes and massive blizzards. And our Dragon mothers were disgraced when their bellies grew round with us. Hedge dragons inherit much from our dragon mothers and our elemental fathers, but we do not share their immortality. While dragons can be hurt, they cannot be killed. We can die.”
I tried to get the story straight. “So the elemental lords raped your mothers?”
“And it still happens.” Storm’s eyes flared, like two glowing emeralds.
“Can you… Forgive me if I’m asking too many questions, but I want to make sure my facts are straight. Can you reproduce?”
Storm’s shoulders slumped. “I’m grateful you’re interested and not just trying to skin me for armor. Yes, hedge dragons can breed with each other and produce young. Later generations breed weaker than those of us who are direct descendants, but they’re still hunted. The Dragonkin would like to see us stamped out, so they put bounties on our heads. As I said, my mother is a green dragon. So I’m first generation. We have the strongest powers.”
“And yet your mother sold your sister?”
“My mother is still dragon. While she may take care of us—that maternal instinct kicks in—she’s ashamed of us, and she has little use for us. She mourns her youth before one of the lords of lightning found her.”
She looked resigned, almost accepting the situation.
My heart ached for her. I thought I had grown up with problems. At least no one had been hunting me for my skin. Although I had been targeted for death.
“Your mother was pregnant when her wings were broken?”
“Yes. She stayed in dragon form till she laid her eggs. Then she switched to human form so she could tend to us easier. Most dragons are egg-born, but hedge dragons past the first generation are born live, in human form, and we don’t have more than two or three children at once. That’s another difference between us.”
“What do your siblings say about your mother selling your sister into slavery?” I asked.
Raven was sitting silent, wa
tching, and I realized she already knew about all of this.
“I have three brothers and two sisters. My brothers are too busy fending for themselves. My other sister… She has a difficult time forming thought. Even though we’re grown, she still thinks and acts like a child. I would have brought her with me, away from the house, except I was afraid I couldn’t protect her. Someday I’ll go back to rescue her if I can, once I’ve rescued my other sister. My mother feeds Sparkle and takes care of her, but she doesn’t love her. She doesn’t love any of us.”
I fell silent, and glanced over at Angel, who was tearing up. We could both feel the anger and injustice roiling off of Storm. In fact, I could feel so much anger from her that I was surprised she hadn’t killed her mother. Except, of course, broken wings or not, her mother couldn’t die.
“Herne and I will find someone to go with you. What do we do with your sister once you find her? If you are able to save her?”
“If she wants to go free, she can. If she wants to return home, that’s up to her. I doubt if she’ll want to stay with me. We have never gotten along. She longs to be full Dragon, but that’s not going to happen. I understand her wanting to fit in, but I wish she’d accept that we’ll never fit in anywhere.” Storm leaned back and crossed one leg over the other. She was so muscled that I’d be afraid to take her on in a fight.
It was in that moment that I realized Storm and I were a lot alike. She didn’t fit in, yet she cared about the underdog. She was willing to put her life on the line for others. I wanted to help her. If it’d been a year ago, I would have offered to go with her, but now I couldn’t. However, that didn’t mean I couldn’t figure out something.
Elta stood and walked over beside me. I glanced up at her. “Yes?”
“I’m sorry, your ladyship, but you’re needed for a fitting.” She glanced at the clock. “Would you like me to tell them you’ll be late?”
“No, I’ll go.” I stood, wanting desperately to stay, but I had my duties and I owed it to the seamstresses to be on time. “I’m sorry, I have to go. Storm, I’ll talk to Herne and we’ll find you a couple traveling companions. I want to…” I paused, then realized that I was a goddess now. I could choose to help someone I cared about.
Antlered Crown Page 5