He slid Dafne’s timeline to Stella and nodded to Lena, who came over to look, too. Rhy gave him a searingly annoyed look, which Astar returned blandly. The traitor had deliberately left him alone with Zephyr when he’d expressly asked him not to. “Here’s the predicted timeline of the rift and potential ripple effects,” he said. “Did your glimpses into the future reveal anything different?”
“More detail,” Stella said, “but not much different. Aunt Andi says that the plan to find King Isyn via Marcellum and stopping at Castle Elderhorst on the way is as good a plan as any.”
Gen frowned. “When did that become the plan?”
“Sometime after you took off in a huff,” Rhy replied. “Where did you go?”
“I needed a moment,” she retorted crisply. “Get off my tail.”
He narrowed his eyes at her. “You smell of snow and fresh air. You went flying, didn’t you?”
“We were assigned scouting duty,” she replied primly.
“Not at Ordnung,” he countered. “Why did you shift back wearing your fancy ballgown, anyway?”
Gen smoothed the shining sapphire silk. The gown was a good choice for her, as it matched her eyes. “Because it’s pretty. You’re just jealous that you can’t come back to human form wearing anything but what any child can do.”
“No,” Rhy bit out with considerable irritation. “I’m annoyed that you left me and Zeph to do all the work.”
She sniffed in disdain. “Like you two ever have to do any work.”
“What matters,” Astar said forcefully, “is that we’re all here now, discussing a mission of critical importance. I’m asking you to hear me out without interruptions. We all have to work together, so let’s begin, as we wish to go on. No effort is truly wasted.” He caught the mocking glint in Zephyr’s eye and could just hear her voice asking about mossback wisdom. She had a point, in a way. He was taking refuge in these tired maxims because he had no idea how to lead, not really. Not without someone looking over his shoulder, ready to step in if things went awry. They’d be on safe territory for a while, but out in the mysterious Isles of Remus or strange Kooncelund… Well, this group—the people he loved best in the world—would be looking to him for guidance, and he didn’t know if he’d be up to the job.
Zephyr was looking back at him more soberly now, as if she understood his thoughts. For all Zephyr’s wild ways, and as opposite as they were, she always had understood him, sometimes even better than Stella did. No—just differently than Stella did. And now he might’ve ruined their friendship forever, right when they’d be thrust into close quarters together, depending on each other. No help for it, though. With a concerted effort, he looked away from her and set to outlining the plan as Ursula had given it to him.
They all listened more or less attentively, staying silent, and no one immediately began to argue, which he took as a good sign. None of them looked particularly happy, however.
“Thank you for your attention,” he said, feeling stuffy and pompous as he said it. He avoided Zephyr’s gaze, knowing she’d be rolling her eyes at him. “Questions? Comments? Discussion?”
“I really think we should have brought the mjed to this little meeting,” Jak commented.
“Agreed,” Rhy said fervently, staring across the table to where Lena had remained beside Stella.
“You won’t be able to take refuge in liquor on this quest,” Gen informed them primly.
Jak widened his eyes in exaggerated astonishment. “I know you’ve spent most of your time in Annfwn, practicing your shapeshifting and Danu knows what all, but even you have to know that courts the world over excel in wallowing in liquor and other decadence. We’ll be at Castle Elderhorst in Carienne, then again at Marcellum. I know for a fact that Elderhorst is a social whirl and probably—”
“How?” Stella asked curiously. Though she always spoke softly, she also spoke so rarely that Jak immediately broke off, fixing his dark eyes on her.
“How do I know about Elderhorst, dear Nilly?” She nodded, and he grinned. “I’ve been there on, ah, trading runs.” He slid a look to Astar and away again. “You’ll love it there. Maybe we can go up to Lake Sullivan. It’s so huge it looks like the sea, but dark and cold, so the water is nearly black, and usually glassy smooth. And there are colored lights that dance in the sky at night.”
“A rainbow at night?” Lena asked, intrigued.
“Bigger, brighter, more colors.” Jak waved his hands in the air, fluttering his fingers. “And without storm clouds.”
“What causes them?” Lena reached for a piece of notepaper.
“Nobody knows,” Jak replied in sepulchral tones. “It’s a mystery, like the sea monster, which is enormous, bigger than a dragon!”
“I don’t like the word ‘monster,’” Zeph commented. “It’s so judgmental.”
“Apologies, charming Zeph,” Jak half-bowed in her direction. “Present company excepted.”
She wrinkled her nose at him. “So, have you seen this lake creature?”
Jak shook his head. “It rarely shows itself. Maybe some of you shapeshifters could go swimming to—”
“This trip is not for sightseeing,” Astar cut in, feeling even more stuffy, especially when they all made faces at him. “It’s not,” he insisted. “This is a critical expedition to repair a rift caused by unknown forces, both of which can destroy the world.”
“Willy is right,” Stella put in, using Astar’s childhood nickname. Back then, the exasperated adults exhausted from chasing rambunctious shapeshifting twin toddlers had dubbed him and Stella “Willy” and “Nilly.” “There will be challenges for us ahead, grave ones. Lena and I have seen them.” Because Stella looked to her, Lena nodded reluctantly, seeming unusually subdued.
Rhy watched her with narrowed eyes, then flicked a glance at Astar. “But we’re to appear as a group of friends—and lovers—out for a fun tour through the countryside. Leaving out why we’d be crazy enough to think traveling through the mossback northlands in bitter winter is a good idea, we should engage in activities like sightseeing, indulging in local drink, dancing at balls.” He cast a grin at Lena, but she didn’t look up from the notes she was scribbling.
“Rhy is right,” Zephyr joined in, a malicious glint in her eyes. “A group of friends—and lovers—won’t attract the wrong kind of attention. Rhy and Lena are already a couple. Astar and I can… pretend to be.” She fluttered her lashes at him.
Uh-oh. He should’ve known Zephyr wouldn’t be daunted for long.
“I think that’s a terrible idea,” Gen said flatly. “If you haven’t noticed, we’re an uneven number.”
“You can be my sweetheart,” Jak said in a generous tone, sliding a charming smile to Stella. “You and Nilly and I can be a triad.”
Astar would’ve sensed his twin’s embarrassed flush even without seeing the flags of color on her cheeks. “Jak, that’s not appropriate,” he put in, feeling any control he had of this group slipping through his fingers, “and—”
“And it’s not happening,” Gen spat at him. “I’d rather be dead.”
Jak clapped a hand to his heart. “You wound me, sweet Gen.”
“Not yet, but I’m considering it,” she retorted.
“Let’s all take a step back and—” Astar tried, but no one listened. He was losing control of a rapidly dissolving situation, and they hadn’t even left Ordnung yet. He risked a glance at Zephyr, who raised one raven-winged brow at him, glossy red lips curving in a sardonic smile.
Lena rose to her feet, everyone falling silent at her movement. Her white gown, sewn with crystals, scattered the light and set off her creamy brown skin, her hair like caramel falling down her narrow back to her slim waist. She wasn’t a sorceress in the same way Stella was, but her weather magic felt similar, intensifying in the room like a gathering storm. She pinned Zephyr with a fierce look. “Why do you say Rhyian and I are a couple?”
Zephyr sat back in her chair with languid ease and a knowing smile. “Ar
en’t you?”
“No,” Lena replied.
“Yes,” Rhy said at the same time.
Very slowly—excruciatingly so—Lena turned her head and fastened her intense gaze on Rhy. His smile faded, and he seemed to shrink inside his skin. “We. Agreed. Just. Until. Dawn.” She spaced her words evenly, like she spoke to a person somewhat dense. Astar cringed for Rhy, giving him a warning look in place of the words he wished he could say, to urge his cousin to tread carefully.
Unfortunately, “careful” wasn’t in Rhy’s vocabulary. “Until dawn—at least,” he corrected. “Doesn’t it seem meant that we kissed under the crystalline moon, and now that very magic, that same moon, has changed the world so that we’ll be together?”
Astar would’ve sworn he heard distant thunder, his skin prickling like lightning might strike.
“Only you,” she said in a menacing hiss, “could manage to make this cataclysm be about you.”
“Not just me. You and me.” Rhy grinned at Lena—a fool in the face of the wrath about to descend on him—and everyone else watched with avid interest.
“Rhyian,” Lena said in that same endlessly patient, nerve-scraping tone, “I’m going to say this clearly, since you seem intent on having this out in front of all of our friends. I will never, ever be your lover again.” She flicked a glance at Gen, who smiled grimly. “I’d rather die,” she echoed, looking back at Rhy. “Tell me you understand.”
Rhy’s face had gone cold and set, eyes glittering a predatory blue. “We talked this out.”
“We talked, yes,” she replied evenly. “And I’m glad we did. It doesn’t change what happened.”
“We can’t change the past, Salena,” he gritted out, “but we can change the future.”
“That’s exactly right,” she retorted, planting her palms on the table. “And my future has no place for you. If I could excise you from my past, I would.”
Rhy blanched, staring at her as if wounded—reminding Astar uncomfortably of the look on Zephyr’s face just a while ago. Sneaking a glance at her, he found Zephyr staring right at him, blue eyes shadowed with the pain he’d been afraid to see.
“You don’t mean that, Salena,” Rhy said, his voice rough.
“I do mean it. And you mean nothing to me.” She said the words with such cool disinterest that Astar felt sick for his cousin.
Rhy seemed to have no response—a telling sign for his usually glib cousin—and Astar wracked his brain for a way to end this confrontation.
It was Jak who broke the silence. “Maybe you two should just do each other and put the rest of us out of your misery,” he quipped, then held up his hands when Rhy pinned him with a lethal glare. Astar rubbed a hand over his gritty eyes.
“We’re all tired,” he tried, “and—”
“We did do each other,” Lena announced calmly. “It didn’t take.”
“What?” Jak, who’d had his chair tipped back on two legs, thumped it down in surprise. “When?”
Lena stared at Rhy, daring him to comment. He seemed shocked, and a little green around the gills. “It was a long time ago,” she said breezily. “Rhy was my first, in fact.”
“You were my first, too,” he said very quietly.
That gave her pause. “You never said.”
He shrugged, not meeting her gaze. “I didn’t say a lot of things.”
“True.” She let out a long, weary sigh. “It doesn’t matter that I was your first—since your second, and third—” Her voice shook a little, but she straightened her spine. “Those happened while my bed was still warm from your body.”
Riveted by the reveal, everyone’s heads swiveled to Rhy. “I apologized for that,” he said tightly.
Lena shook her head, mouth pinched with pain. “Oh, Rhyian. Apologies don’t necessarily change anything. You would have to change.”
“I can change,” he protested. “I made mistakes, yes, and I know I hurt you, but I was young, and I told you I don’t know why I went with those girls. Besides, you know the Tala aren’t monogamous. You can’t put mossback expectations on us.”
Gen put her face in her hands, and even Zephyr shook her head sadly. Jak clapped a hand on Rhy’s shoulder. “I’d stop talking if I were you, my friend. You’re not coming off very well in this story.”
To be honest, Astar thought none of them were. Surely the heroes of old setting out to save the world hadn’t had to deal with this kind of thing.
~ 8 ~
Astar cleared his throat, drawing all eyes to him. He looked so pained, so supremely uncomfortable that Zeph nearly felt sorry for him. Except she wasn’t feeling all that charitable toward the thick-skulled, too-noble prince at the moment. In fact, she allowed herself a bit of gleeful anticipation for how Astar would put his foot in it now.
“This meeting is about an important quest,” he said, much too pompously for this group, then leveled a paternal smile on Lena. “This is not the time or place to air old romantic entanglements, and such.” He waved a hand uncomfortably.
Oh, Astar. Zeph cringed as Lena turned her formidable glare on him.
“Are you saying this conversation is my fault?” she inquired in a lethally even voice.
“Ah…” Astar’s face reddened as he scrambled for a response. “Um, no, Lena, I—”
“I would hope not,” she continued in that slicing tone. “Because I didn’t ask for this quest.” She held up a hand to forestall further comment. “Don’t fret. I will go. With the stakes we’ve glimpsed, with Her Majesty, the King and Queen of Annfwn, and my own esteemed royal parents commanding it, I can hardly refuse. Nevertheless, this venture is forcing me to give up my work in the Aerron Desert.” Her fulminous glare swept all of them, except for Stella. “I know none of you care a fig for what I’m doing there, but I care. It’s good work. Meaningful. Important. It’s taken me years to develop my skills to this level, and endless hours of delicate manipulations to get to where we are. I’m proud of what I’m doing there.”
“The high throne appreciates—” Astar began, ignoring Zeph’s horrified head-shaking.
“Don’t.” Lena spun on Astar. Though he topped her by a head—and Stella sat between them—he flinched. “Don’t you dare pander to me, Willy,” she hissed. “You might be leader of this quest, but you don’t outrank me. And I am not airing ‘old romantic entanglements.’ This conversation is about now, and about the personnel you are supposed to be commanding. It’s up to you to ensure that I feel safe and comfortable in this group.”
Astar straightened, face set, and nodded. “You’re right, Princess Salena Nakoa KauPo. I forgot myself, and I apologize.”
“I’ve had enough apologies for one night,” Lena said wearily. “I think I’ve made myself clear.” She didn’t look at Rhy, who simmered visibly with miserable fury. Zeph hadn’t known before this what had happened to break them up so dramatically, but it was worse than she’d guessed. They’d been blissfully in love one day, the next, Lena had fled Annfwn for Aerron. Then Lena had stayed in Aerron, barely ever taking a day off from her work there, and Rhy had started his tumble into a seven-year feckless sulk.
Lena turned back to Astar. “I’ll go. I’ll help repair this problem. But I am sacrificing a great deal to do this, and I will never act as Rhyian’s lover, in reality or in pretense. Rhyian, you will leave me alone. Astar, I expect you to enforce that if it becomes necessary. Is anyone at all unclear on what I’m saying?”
Everyone looked at Astar, who slowly stood, then bowed deeply to Lena. “You have indeed made yourself clear, and I regret that you felt the need.” He straightened and looked around the table. “I’ve come to a decision. We may be dressing up this trip as a pleasure jaunt, but we must keep firmly in mind that we are embarking on a critical mission. We carry the trust of all our realms with us. To seal the gravity of this quest in our minds, I hereby decree that there will be no romantic entanglements of any kind from this moment until we return with our task completed.”
Zeph felt he
r mouth sag open. Not that she wanted to give Astar another chance after the dreadful things he’d said to her, but to issue an ultimatum like this… He carefully wasn’t looking at her, which made her wonder—how much of this was about Lena and Rhy, and how much about her?
“You don’t command us,” Rhy snarled, seething with frustration and fury.
“You’re mistaken there, Rhy,” Astar replied with admirable calm. He did wear leadership well, Zeph had to admit—when he wasn’t being stiff about it. “If you prefer, I can ask High Queen Ursula to reinforce the command. Of course, that will entail explaining to Her Majesty why it’s necessary. I don’t think anybody here wants that.” He swept the gathering with eyes hot as the summer sky at high noon. Not so much the charming, golden prince now, but with a hardness to him. For the first time, Zeph glimpsed the king Astar would be someday, and—far from quelling her infatuation with him—she wanted him even more.
Of course you do, said the voice. You’re contrary that way.
This time she didn’t bother replying. Maybe if she ignored it—whatever this new voice was—it would go away.
“I don’t want Astar to have to explain any of this to Her Majesty,” Lena said, hard gaze on Rhy. “I prefer that no one knows my personal business. Rhyian?”
Rhy met her gaze, a wealth of unspoken words hanging between them. “You know I don’t,” he replied softly.
“Then are we agreed?” Astar asked. “I want a verbal reply.” He caught and held the gaze of each of them until they said yes, starting with Rhy, who hissed his agreement without taking his eyes off Lena. It did nothing to mollify her resolve.
Astar came to Zeph last, clearly steeling himself to meet her gaze. She had an answer ready. And a clever plan in mind. “I don’t always understand mossback rules,” she said lightly, batting her lashes. “Allow me to clarify: this moratorium of yours means no romantic entanglements within the group, but that leaves us free to pursue interests outside the people in this room, correct?”
Astar paused, not expecting that. Jak and Gen turned hopeful faces to him. “That’s a good point,” Jak said. “We might need to flirt and possibly seduce people as part of our cover. For the good of the cause, naturally.”
The Golden Gryphon and the Bear Prince: An Epic Fantasy Romance (Heirs of Magic Book 1) Page 6