By the Horns

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By the Horns Page 33

by Jeanette Lynn


  “Good. Won’t have to wipe your mind, then. Can’t be giving all of my secrets away.”

  “You’re insa- Ah-Ahh!” Tears streamed down my cheeks as his fingers clasped mine, pinching, vise tight, and then all hell broke loose inside of me, until my mouth opened in a silent scream. No words came out, nothing. The pain was excruciating. My entire body shuddered, my mind was rending, body breaking, bone by one, to slam back together. For a moment I assumed I exploded, everything and then nothing, all at once, my being flickering out. The chanting in my ears grew so loud I thought they might bleed from it. My body vibrated with their song, words I didn’t comprehend.

  “Until we meet again, Riadne.” Black flushed eyes flashed, bright, brighter, blindingly bright, shimmering gold, a thousand different shades, until it was bright as the suns and I could no longer see.

  Sucking in a sharp breath and finding it physically impossible, my heart started pounding. Was I dying? Was this a trick? Had he changed his mind and decided to throw my arse into the deep?

  Sharp pains cascaded across my eyes, behind them, around them until it felt like they were being squeezed, across my forehead, down and around my scalp. Again, I tried uselessly to suck in a deep breath.

  Nothing.

  Suffocating, gasping wildly, awash in unimaginable, burning, pricking, stabbing pain, my pounding heart, and nothing else. The licking fire had followed me to the other side! Was this Hell? Had he lied?

  Mouth flapping, throat working, I was drowning in nothing, dying for air. I kept trying, lungs aching like they were filled, to no avail. Then finally, his hands let go, the only tether keeping me grounded, and I was falling, tipping towards the sea.

  I must’ve blacked out, blanked out, faded out, all of the above? Where moments before there was something and I was consumed by everything, I was twisting, slipping into an abyss, then nothing, nothing at all but for the cold, cool, quiet, to... this?

  Chanting? Faint and fading, a sing-song softly sung.

  I’d never get used to this strangeness, this wakeful awareness, dimmed by a veil of fog, lending the illusion of a dream-like wakefulness and a wakeful dream state. Awake, asleep, I was floating, precariously peeking from one stead to the other.

  Liquid.

  I knew I was dreaming now, lying in a pool of... liquid. My own fluids? Blood? No coppery scent filled the air, no pain to account for, just warm liquid lapping at my skin.

  A cool breeze floated in, bringing with it a pungent odor. Burning grass? Herbs? It was not unlike the incense my village used for important events.

  Where an endless sea had been sounding off behind me, the tide rushing up to claim me, I gasped, crying out softly, and popped up to find myself lying prone in a raised, rectangular shaped shallow pool of water, the cool liquid dark from the sand cradling my body.

  Candles sat all around the edges, lit, gold flames flickering, the scent of incense and sage burning tickling my nose.

  Expecting the beach and a smirking, flirtatious, vague hinting fae, I found myself in an enormous chamber, low lit, dark but for the light, black marble columns with veins of gold strategically placed, dark wooden beams crossing overhead. Vegetation and Tauran met in a mishmash of bull man made and nature, the effect like something out of a dream.

  The soft trickle of water had me struggling to turn, gaping at the dark pond not unlike the one I’d played in with the King himself, lush greens, ferns, palms, flowers of every shape, color, and luminosity surrounding it. Fruit trees bloomed in one corner, a shimmering skylight above the dark pool giving the ceiling and the water reflecting off of it that starry night sky look. I’d just bet it would be wondrous to swim in, looking up at the stars, come night fall.

  E-den. I’d heard of the place. An old peddler man who claimed to worship one sole god told us of such things, and the story of his Adam and Eve. Barron had sent the peddler on his way, but not before I’d gotten my fill of his tales.

  If ever there was a place, I imagined this is what the peddler man’s garden of E-den was like.

  The sound of birds and the skittering of light-footed critters had my head swiveling, gaze darting about. I became very aware of my body as I shifted, more in particular, what was and wasn’t of my person. No pain, no crazy aches, no open wounds, though my skin felt tight, sort of itchy, uncomfortable, like it was not quite my own, physically.

  Two startlingly shiny bars of smooth black and gold caught my eye. Gaping, I lifted my hand from the warm, bath like water I sat in to cup one of my breasts. No pain, no twinges as I tweaked one just a little, though a shot like a mini lightning bolt zinged straight to the bud of a pearl above my slit, unbidden, by the action. Why? Why would someone do this? Nose wrinkling, I blinked and snuffled. Something touched my lip. My nose wrinkled again. A phantom touch remained on my nose, faint but still there. Strange.

  Interesting more, were the myriad of scars, the faintest hint of glowing amber tinting each, like gold sealed cracks, once broken but reformed, put back together, worth something, crisscrossing my hands, darker towards my fingers to lighten outward. Liquid gold, that’s what it looked like, as if I’d bathed in it—honey-amber liquid gold. They covered my arms, and lower still. I was completely consumed in them, like faintly shimmering badges. The marks from the whipping trees, healed. By the King’s hand? He’d said something about leaving me touched. Oh, I looked touched, alright.

  My head was beginning to clang alarmingly, temples throbbing, my face, neck, and hands sore and growing more so, the pressure building, as if I’d just been thrown about bodily and tried to catch myself before landing on my head.

  Hells... maybe I had.

  “Where am I?” I wondered aloud, shocked at just how rusted my voice sounded. Like a creaking door slowly squeaking open, is what it was, locked up from disuse.

  My hand dropped from my breast to lift, going to my face. That phantom touch, it was- “A ring in my nose?” I squawked, then squeaked, a tiny, “Eep,” escaping me. It went further still, tiny little loops lining the edges of my ears. Considering my lack of holey-ness before, I was covered in them!

  My hands slapped to my stomach as my world slowly spun and I attempted to right it myself, breathing in and out in slow, even breaths. And there, another puncture in my skin, a half-moon like loop piercing the top of my belly button.

  “Will this body mutilation never cease?” I groaned, gaping down at my person. What was the point?!

  “He can’t make me. I’ll just... I won’t.” Vachel, her voice high and tight, was in a fit of pique. Her tone was hard, voice strong.

  A faint, bellowing low in the distance had me straining to hear. What was that? A wild animal?

  “Won’t? You just won’t? Like that? Do not be so willfully ignorant! It will be your undoing.”

  “Pfft.” A very loud snort rent the air. “And vanity, brother dear,” she sniped, “will be yours.”

  “Vanity?” the dark-furred bull sputtered, incredulous.

  “Vanity, you stuffy nosed, short priss! You care too much what others think. Think you different from Kvigor? You may handle things differently, but I see it, the acquiescence. Always, both of you, giving in! You live in fear! Well, I won’t!”

  “Caldywallenswallop.” A bull-like snort.

  “Oh? And what of the hoom-man, hmm? The one you moon over with sad calf eyes. Don’t pretend not to be aware of your growing affections for the Mad Queen’s pet, either. You may think you’re being circumspect, oh great Enforcer, but we all see it. Think Kvigor does not sense this, know it?”

  “What does it matter if the Chief’s precious princeling sees it? What be it to me?” As if realizing he’d just admitted to more than he’d like, be it false or not, he cleared his throat, grumbling gruffly, “What do I care what Ekodar’s predecessor thinks?”

  Vachel clucked her tongue. “Deny it, then. Deny all you like. You’re only fooling yourself.”

  “And you are only fooling yourself if you think simply saying no will be the
magical fix.”

  The youth was quiet for a long moment. “I’ll just go and talk to this intended male. See where he stands.”

  “Ah, yes, because that just solves everything!”

  “It is better than this!” The sound of material swishing reached my ears. “Adelric, you can’t be serious. Going to temple? You? Not kill and hunt and watch over things? Have you been hit in the head and permanently damaged? I cannot fathom-”

  “Never you mind me.” A deep grunt and a chuff. “Just don’t leave the All-father’s house, is all I’ve been saying. And if you do, don’t come crying to me, should you find yourself betrothed to a brute of a Tauran.”

  “Vachel, Adelric, do not argue so.” Suzaela huffed in exasperation. “Now is not the time.”

  “Not the time? When, then? When she has been cast off to this male, per Ekodar’s edict? Tauran from far off lands. Strangers. Newcomers.”

  “Foreigners, you mean,” Vachel quipped dryly, a bite to her words.

  “When will be the time?” Adelric continued, as if his youngest sibling had not spoken. “When her belly is swelling with some- some blacksmith’s get? When, Mother, when would be the time?

  “What is wrong with him being a blacksmith?” Vachel argued. “Did you not, once upon a time, think of pursuing a similar interest?”

  A grunt of an answer from the tough Enforcer.

  “That’s what I thought,” the young heifer replied with a sniff.

  “Just don’t leave temple,” the dark-furred Tauran grumbled.

  “I’ll do as I please and you’ll not say a word.” A pause. “His sister was a warrior back where they’re from, in the Southlands. Females can do many things.”

  “Just not this one,” Adelric hissed.

  “No. Of course not. That would be barbaric, wouldn’t it? I should just leave the enforcing, the hunting, the torturing of helpless beings from other worlds, these tamings and shunnings, to the males, namely you. It’s what you’re good at, isn’t it? Taking orders?”

  “Vachel!” Suzaela gasped in shock.

  If only the pretty, maroon-eyed cow of a female knew her brother had done so with her well-being in mind, would she be singing her tune, then, I wondered. Not that I approved of the male’s tactics. He was bossy, demanding, unyielding. How no one hadn’t walloped him sooner, I’d never know.

  And yet I couldn’t, despite it all, help but admire the stubborn jackass.

  There was more, siblings rekindling said argument while I half listened, cluing in to Suzaela’s distress as yet again she attempted to intervene.

  What was Puck up to now? He’d actually gone through with it, intending to set Vachel up with a mate? He really had gone mad. What would the Trickster gain from this? And the blacksmith... with the warrior sister, surely he hadn’t chosen the mountain of a male? The dark Minotaur with the stern features who sat silently at the celebration? No wonder Adelric was fit to be tied! Puck had chosen the one male who stood a chance against his best man, and the dark-furred beast and his sire knew it.

  Again, what was to gain from this for the preening peacock? Nothing, as far as I was concerned. He’d just lost his lead Enforcer, from what I gleaned from Adelric and Vachel’s conversation, the only male up to snuff in this bull gore bull world.

  Slipping from the warm water bath, my legs shaking slightly but stable, I wiggled my way to the lip of the pool’s edge, carefully turning to climb down. It wasn’t a high drop, so much as a slippery way, however short, down. The floor was wood, not nearly as slick as the marble bath, offering my bare feet traction.

  One foot in front of the other, I made my way towards the voices. Water silently slipped down my form. I was naked as the day I was born but for a few new adornments. Was this a religious rite of some kind? They’d said temple... Were they preparing me for some kind of death ritual?

  I’m alive. I thought of shouting the words out, but ultimately held my tongue.

  The arguing in the main foyer, another opulent room, this smaller section with floor to ceiling black marble with gold veins—the mark of the fae king, I’d come to recognize it as. The King had said he was going to mark me... a token or something of some sort, leaving me touched, I vaguely recalled. This must be it.

  To my surprise I found my companions all sporting similar nose rings, Adelric’s thicker than the rest, the female’s ears full of rings. Vachel, arms thrown up as she railed at her elder sibling, shook her head wildly, rattling the gold and black bracelets layering her forearms.

  My eyes slid to her intended target, where they stayed. I drank the sight of that male in like I was dying of thirst. Eyes flushed gold, nostrils steaming, he was familiar, comfortable, magnificent even in a rage. Strangely, I found I’d missed him. Ever the same, the male was a constant in an ever-changing world. I craved stability.

  Then my eyes drifted lower and I gasped. “Adelric!” I spluttered. My finger shot out as my mouth dropped open. “Your man-skirt!” In its place was the soft material draped about his waist I’d seen so many a regular villager wear. His was black, the material lined with teal stitching.

  All eyes shot towards me at the sound of my voice, watching me standing there, hair tangled, plastered to my body, soaking wet.

  “Vacha,” Adelric breathed, taking in the sight of me the same way I’d just been with him moments before. His chest lifted and fell, emphasizing the breadth of his wide chest. Thinking of the scene back by the ocean with Oberon, my cheeks flushed and I quickly glanced away, suddenly embarrassed.

  Watching me closely, the male frowned, glancing down at his person questioningly. If only he knew.

  “Goner,” Vachel got out between pretend coughing fits, ignoring the censorious look her mother shot her.

  The elbow the high priestess shot to her daughter’s gut, now that go the young Tauran’s attention.

  “I’m shutting it,” the younger Minotaur grumbled, grunting as her hand went to her belly.

  “Riadne.” Suzaela’s smile was bright and vibrant. Arms outstretched, she moved forward and embraced me. She didn’t just smile with her mouth, it permeated her being, radiating outward. The female didn’t care that I was wearing my birthing suit or the fact I was a sea nymph come to life, she enfolded me like a long lost family member, her thick fur warm, welcoming. That hug warmed my heart.

  “Thank you,” I whispered, my arms curled towards my chest, chin dropping to her shoulder to accept her affection without question.

  “Blessed be the All-father, our prayers have been answered,” she rejoiced. “Now come, you must be cold and hungry. Let us get you dry and fill that belly.”

  My stomach chose that moment to sound the alarm. “I could eat,” I murmured quietly.

  “Glad to see you on the side of the living.” Vachel came up, resting her hand on my shoulder, offering her shawl right off her shoulders when her mother stepped back. Suzaela began to flutter about, murmuring excitedly about a special dinner and prayers and I wasn’t sure what else.

  “Thank you,” I told Vachel. I didn’t hesitate to accept her gift.

  She gave a short nod, grinning sweetly. “The All-father be blessed, for we surely have.” With that she left me standing there, alone with Adelric.

  Unable to look him in the eye, I made to follow the women, making it two steps before I was unceremoniously scooped up in strong arms.

  “I can walk,” I told him, though I melted against him instantly.

  “Of course you can’t,” he muttered, lips twitching.

  “Your man-skirt?” I needled.

  “Man-skirt?” Adelric’s steps stilled and he stared down at me, snorting. “Think you, you mean kilt, demon pixie?”

  I blinked, then blinked again, until I was sure I looked as stupid as I felt doing it. My eyes kept getting stuck on those full lips, mind stuck on that beach scene. Would it be the same, a part of me wondered.

  Realizing he was gazing down upon me steadily, awaiting an answer, I cleared my throat. “Ah, yes, of cours
e.”

  “Alright there?” he asked mildly, openly curious.

  “Of course, heh-heh. Why wouldn’t I be?”

  He blinked a few times. “Out like the dead for a bit there, vacha. No one knew if you’d be coming back to me- ah, us.”

  Oh, I’d heard that. My heart started pounding rapidly, the sound loud as it began to quietly throb in my ears. Could he hear it, make it out?

  That wild bellowing sounded off again.

  “Two questions.” I held two fingers up.

  Pretending he hadn’t just said something he didn’t intend, his brow lifted.

  “The body jewelry,” my index finger circled the vicinity of my breasts, my face, my belly, his eyes following all the while, then my hand lifted and I hooked a thumb over my shoulder, “and that noise.”

  “Praise to the All-father, tokens in hopes of a blessing.”

  “Like a small sacrifice?”

  At his nod I let that one drop. Okay, this was the Tauran way, for those that worshipped the fae king, that is.

  “And that noise?” I whispered, looking to the echoing bellowing emanating from just outside this great palace of a place. My fingers automatically went for his fur, where they buried deep. He was always so warm, and it was strange for me, to be this coherent as I mauled his furry chest. He didn’t utter a word of protest. And neither did I, allowing him to tote me around naked but for a shawl. It felt... right. Yep. Gone mad, Ri.

  It was alright, I soothed myself, wincing at another bellowing low, we’re all mad here.

  The noise shook the walls of this smaller chamber I found him toting me through, tiny dirty and gold flecked dust motes sprinkling about here and there high above our heads.

  Adelric hesitated before admitting, “That would be Kvigor.”

  “Kvigor?!”

  The thickly built male shrugged, the action nonchalant, though his body tensed. “He does not believe.”

 

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