“It’s the somnomium,” Nillin insisted. “You better be a fine artist for all the effort that cost me. Knowing my luck, you’ll have made no intimate study of another woman’s mouth, aside from that of your wife…and your mother.”
“You’d be surprised how many pairs of lips I’ve studied up close,” Talvi said while turning the small bar of soap in his hand. “If you can imagine it, I’ve seen it—up close and very, very personal. Soft and pillowy, plump and juicy, narrow and nimble, wide and open, or puckered like she’s forever pouting. What do you prefer best for your concubines?”
“Just make her pretty,” Nillin sighed, still recovering from his telekinetic trick. “That’s all I ever cared about. Good looks and good health…although I do prefer when they don’t stand past my shoulder. That’s what I love about human girls. They’re usually so much smaller than us elves. It makes them easier to toss around in bed…especially when you have more than one to play with.”
“Isn’t that the truth?” Talvi hummed, and broke away the corners of Nillin’s bar of soap.
“Says he with the modern girl for a wife.”
“I’d rather have one wife instead of a handful of concubines. How many did you have?”
“No more than a dozen at any given time.”
“A dozen?” Talvi repeated. “Your family must be quite wealthy to keep all those women under your roof.”
“I imagine we are, compared to most,” Nillin said. “Tell me about your wife. You said that you love her more than is good for you. Did you compel her to marry you, or did she choose to become your wife on her own accord?”
“It was her choice,” Talvi replied, and began to carve with his fingernail. “Unlike your people, the Kallo elves aren’t forced to compel helpless humans into becoming their lovers.”
“We aren’t forced to compel anyone either, not unless they’re behaving badly,” said Nillin. “As far as my lovers are concerned, they came to me on their own free will. The humans back home view us as their protectors, and rightly so. That’s why we fought against the vampires for so long…because they were killing off our humans. It’s because of them that the Näkki live on. Humans are ten times more likely to give us children than if we’re left to our own devices. The very last thing we would do is forbid someone from marrying one of them.”
“My wife is part of the reason why I’ll spend the rest of my life in here,” Talvi said. Tiny shreds of soap were now sprinkled over the floor of his cell as the little bar of soap took on a more diamond-like shape. “It’s forbidden to marry a human specifically because the resulting children are to be avoided.”
“How positively absurd. Why is that?”
“Well, it’s because the children are either born human or elven, but never something in between.”
“I still don’t see the problem.” Talvi glanced through the slot in the door and saw Nillin watching him intently. He took a deep breath, wondering if he’d regret admitting what he was about to say.
“My grandfather was a human, and it drove my grandmother mad to watch him and all but one of their children die. The child that survived was my father. After he was old enough to look after himself, she took her own life. It’s forbidden to become entangled with humans because it causes too much pain…too much heartache and confusion. I killed my brother over one of them. It doesn’t matter if it was done in self-defense…the judges wanted me to be a reminder to others that humans are nothing but trouble.”
“Brothers can cause all sorts of problems, but humans are not that much trouble,” Nillin replied. “It’s your archaic laws and your outdated customs that are the problem. Perhaps your grandmother was driven mad by watching nearly all of her family die of old age. Perhaps she would have survived if she hadn’t been shunned by society because of who she loved. I never understood the Estellian ideal of toiling needlessly instead of embracing magic, or the law that forbids you to marry whomever you choose…or the custom of keeping prisoners of war as slaves.” Nillin stretched out on his back and stared up at the ceiling of his cell. “Perhaps those things will change one day and we might both be freed, although after being in here for ninety-six years, I’m of the opinion that your laws and your customs will be your demise.”
Talvi continued to work in the dim torchlight, finding himself wondering what life might resemble if it were more like that of the other Näkki elves. How would society be different if the Kallo elves embraced their repressed desires for lust and power? How would things be if they didn’t shun so much magic-based technology and they married whoever they wanted, regardless of race? Instead of letting a human woman come between them, he might’ve joined forces with Finn and created new and wondrous things instead of hiding away his black market Earthly inventions out of fear of prosecution. If he’d been raised in the Ellunian empire, he wouldn’t have grown up being ashamed of his human ancestry. He wouldn’t have thought himself too tarnished to be fully redeemed. He may very well have been less rebellious without having so much to rebel against.
There it was. The one word that summarized his entire personality, his entire life, and it was the same thing that drew him to Annika like a bee to nectar; they were both rebellious to a fault. If he hadn’t been so rebellious, he never would’ve taken the career path that he’d chosen. Most of the time his instructions were to eradicate anyone perceived as a threat to the Estellian way of life. Most of the time he had zero crisis of conscience about what was expected of him. The few times he’d voiced any opposition, he’d been told, “Don’t ask questions, Marinossian. Just get the job done.”
His thoughts returned to his conversation with Cyril, which had proven to be more of a sad realization than a comforting assurance that his people could do no wrong.
“I had a question about your experience during the Battle for Veselle,” he said. “I wanted to know about Prince Dillon’s helmet, in particular.”
“His helmet? What of it?”
“Was it made of something called daenomium?”
“Yes. It’s the finest armor there is. It’s not as lightweight as your luxomium, but it’s nearly impenetrable. I’ll gladly carry the extra weight for the extra piece of mind.”
“What color is this armor? And does it have any particular designs upon it?”
“Daenomium armor is black…although there’s a bit of a luster to it that makes it gleam as if it’s alive.” Nillin hummed to himself as he reminisced about the last time he’d worn his armor. “As far as there being any pattern or design, the most I can tell you is that there’s a chimera on the breastplate with outstretched wings that reach towards the shoulders. Why are you so curious about my people’s armor?”
“Just entertain me. There’s a point to my asking,” Talvi said. “Tell me about the helmets. What do they look like?”
“All the helms are made to look like a chimera’s head.”
“But chimeras have three heads, so is the helmet fashioned like a lion? Or is it the head of the goat coming out of its back? Or is it the serpent’s head at the tail? I also didn’t recall that chimeras had wings. I thought it was only griffins that did.”
Talvi could hear Nillin scoff loudly from across the aisle.
“You’ve never seen a chimera before, have you?”
“Only from drawings in books.”
“Of course. I sometimes forget that I’m surrounded by backward Estellians,” he muttered. “Contrary to popular belief, chimeras are like all other living creatures…they only have one head. The myth of multiple heads began because the first ones to see them couldn’t accurately describe them.”
“Can you?”
“Not very well,” Nillin admitted with a sigh. “Imagine if a serpent and a lion were bred with an eagle and a goat, and that’s a chimera. Believe me…if you ever saw one, you’d know it.”
“Do they have horns?”
“Yes. The longer they are, the older they are.”
“Does that mean your helms have horns as well?”
“And they’re made of the same black daenomium as well?”
“Yes…aside from the helms worn by royalty,” Nillin clarified. “Then the horns are made of gold. You never fully explained your sudden interest in my people and chimeras and armor? Did something happen while you were away?”
“Yes,” Talvi replied bitterly. “I asked someone for the truth behind Prince Dillon’s death. He specifically said that the prince’s helmet was made of daenomium and adorned by a chimera with gold horns.”
“I don’t know why you sound so surprised when this person is only confirming what I just told you.”
“You don’t understand,” Talvi began. He rolled over and looked across the way into Nillin’s fathomless black eyes. Even in the daylight, his irises were like two dark and mysterious pools. “Our history books don’t teach us anything about a crushed helmet being sent to your king. They say that we sent him the terms of a cease-fire in a golden box as a gesture of goodwill. I feel like such a fool now that I know it’s a lie.”
“You weren’t there to see it,” Nillin said diplomatically. “What makes you so certain that I’m telling the truth?”
“I know it because I asked someone who’s in a position to know the truth, and he refused to confirm or deny your story. The same thing happened when I asked him whether or not Bleakmoor keeps prisoners of war to mine the somnomium pits. He wouldn’t answer me. This is a man I trust—he’s nearly an uncle to me. I just can’t believe he lied to me.”
Talvi watched as Nillin’s eyes began to glow dark red for a brief moment before returning to their pitch black hue.
“I know exactly why he lied to you,” he said in a pensive tone. “A king must never risk losing his subject’s trust, lest they turn away from him.”
“But he’s not a king.”
“He’s in a position of authority, and he’s someone you trust as an honorary member of your family, is he not?”
“Yes,” Talvi admitted.
“Then there isn’t much difference,” said Nillin. “Not much difference at all.”
12
The Brightest of Stars
“You can come down now,” James hollered up the wooden staircase. “She’s gone.”
Annika glanced over the wooden handrail before heading down the creaky steps that led to the kitchen. When she looked at James, his mouth twisted into an awkward grimace as he pointed to Patti’s new car, which was backing out of their driveway. After a few days of being distant and snippy, she’d claimed that her aunt was in town and she wanted to spend as much time with her as possible by staying at her parents’ house. But Annika and James knew the real reason why she’d packed an overnight bag. She’d barely spoken a word to either of them since the incident at Nordstrom’s, where she’d overheard their entire conversation about the reason why Talvi wasn’t coming back.
“Did she say how long she’d be gone for?” Annika asked while she poured herself a cup of coffee. James shook his head.
“A few days…whatever that means. I’m not sure if we’ll see her before we leave. She was totally Team Talvi, you know?”
Annika gave a wry smile.
“If I didn’t know it before, I definitely know now.” She sat down at the table, where James had his laptop open to the band’s email account. In the background was a picture of a city street lined with soft pink cherry trees in full bloom. “Ooh, is this in Japan?”
“Yeah. Charlie says he knows a band who wants to open for us in Tokyo.” James sat down with his own cup of coffee and popped a piece of nicotine gum in his mouth. “Of course, it’s not gonna be this gorgeous in the middle of December. It’ll probably be a lot like it is here.”
“That’s not so bad. I can’t believe we’re finally going on tour,” she said, taking a deep breath and letting it out. James snorted a laugh.
“I can’t believe I’m letting Jack and Jill watch the gallery for six weeks,” he admitted as he chewed down hard on his gum. “Here I’ve been giving you shit for being so flaky about taking things to the next level, and then you finally plan a kick-ass tour and it turns out I’m afraid to go!”
“You’re not afraid,” she reasoned, and took a sip of her coffee. “You’re just an OCD control freak who’s handing over the keys to his office, his car, and his house for the next six weeks. It’s me and Charlie who should be afraid. Especially if you forget to pack enough nicotine gum!”
“Oh, trust me, I bought a case of it so I don’t lose my shit on the plane. Hopefully the TSA doesn’t make me throw it all away. I’m already dreading the check-in for all our gear. Do you remember when flying used to be nice?”
“Talvi says flying hasn’t been nice since the 80’s,” she joked. Then she stared into her cup, wishing that she hadn’t spoken his name out loud. There was a lull between them as James took a long gulp of his coffee and opened up an email.
“Have you heard anything from him?”
“No.”
“Have you at least told him that you’re sorry?”
Annika sighed and nodded her head.
“Oh yeah. He knows how I feel. Not that it matters.”
“It might matter more than you think it does. I’m sorry to bring it up.” James set down his coffee cup and ran his fingertip along the trackpad until it opened one of the multiple flagged emails. “I actually wanted to show you the fan letters we’ve been getting since the album came out. People are really digging it. Check out this note.”
Omg! I’m so in love with this album. I will listen to it over and over and over I’m sure. Can’t wait for the next one!
Annika smiled to herself as James scrolled through the band’s official inbox for the next message.
I’ve just become your die hard fan after listening to your entire album. It’s just too good. Please keep writing such wonderful and amazing music.
He took another drink and opened a third email.
You are the absolute best!
“She followed that with about a dozen emojis,” he said, then clicked on another message.
“How many more like that are there?” Annika asked while leaning closer to him.
“Maybe ten.” He took off his glasses and set them aside, then rubbed his eyes as his jaw pulverized the nicotine gum to smithereens. “I’m starting to get nervous.”
“What for? These letters mean that we’re making a real connection with people. I know we’ll never be like Beyoncé or Adele, but we’re still cultivating our own little tribe. We should embrace it.”
“Great. Then you can be the one who writes back to all these people,” he said with a prissy frown. “Nobody ever writes to the guy on keys.”
“You write emails to artists and other galleries all day long,” she pointed out. “I don’t understand why you’re nervous about writing back to fans. Are you really that worried about checking in our gear? We have nice cases and plenty of insurance. We’ll be fine.”
“I’m not worried about insurance. I’m nervous because things are falling into place way too easily for us,” he said, looking at her with a bleary-eyed, perplexed face. “I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop. It might not happen right away, but it’ll happen.”
Annika rolled her eyes and took the laptop from him.
“Maybe there isn’t another shoe. Did you ever think of that?”
James shook his head and put his glasses back on.
“No, because everyone knows that shoes are sold in pairs. I’ve got a feeling that when the other shoe drops for us, it’s going to kick our asses.”
Roughly six weeks later, Annika found herself reading yet another email from an enthused fan.
Please don’t think I’m crazy, but ever since I discovered your band I feel like I’m hearing everything around me with a new pair of ears. I’ve probably listened to each of your songs a thousand times or more. Consider me your biggest fan! I’ve blown out the speakers in my car from listening to your music full blast.
Are you touring anywhere in Australia? If you do, I live in Perth (wink, wink). When’s the next album coming out???????
“I like the seven exclamation points she added for emphasis,” James said as he took his phone back from Annika. She resumed putting on makeup while he scrolled through the emails on his phone and snorted in disbelief. “That’s the eleventh fan letter we’ve had this week. They’re all like that,” he added, and re-opened another message. “I’m your biggest fan…your music has changed my life…please come to my city…blah, blah blah.”
“James! Remember when nobody came to our shows except for my parents?” Annika scolded. She stopped applying her eye shadow just long enough to give him a major stink-eye. “I couldn’t even get Danny to come to more than a couple of gigs.”
“Yeah, and you were fucking him!” James laughed. Trying unsuccessfully to ignore his comment, she resumed staring in the mirror and brought another sweep of shadow across her lids.
“I just think you should be more grateful that we have fans in the first place,” she reminded him and motioned toward the door to their dressing room. Guitars and drums were blaring from the other side as the opening band launched into their last song. Shutting the lid to her small case of shadow, she tossed it aside, then reached into her makeup bag and pulled out a dark green eyeliner. “Especially fans like ours. If it wasn’t for them, we wouldn’t be here.”
“If it wasn’t for us busting our asses for the past five years we wouldn’t be here,” James countered. “You especially. You’ve worked harder in the past five months than you have since we got together.”
“If it wasn’t for me we wouldn’t be here,” Charlie interrupted. “I’m the one who said we should end the tour in Japan. We’re huge here!” Up until now he’d had his nose buried in the huge pile of manga books that he’d bought shortly after their arrival in Tokyo. He’d already torn through a quarter of them.
The Darkest of Dreams Page 16