By the time I closed the door, Mathias had set his burden on the small dining table in front of the fireplace. He set the two trays down and then lifted the covers to reveal . . . “Pastries?”
Mathias pointed to a round pastry formed in the shape of a rough spiral and somewhat glazed. “Banitsa.” He gestured to the next plate, which held four diamond shaped pastries . . . their flaky layers telling me what they were even before he said, “Baklava.” The next plate was equally obvious as he motioned to the carefully sliced and powdered filled pastry. “Apple strudel.” Finally, he waved at the slice of chocolate cake as he announced, “Garash cake.”
I looked from the pastries to Mathias. “I don’t suppose you struck your head in the time since you left, did you?”
A flicker of a smile appeared. “No. I merely . . .” He trailed off and then stuck a hand in his pocket pulling something out. I had been going to invite him to leave, but the words stuck in my throat as he placed three candles and one stub into the slice of chocolate cake. He lit the candles and then held the plate out to me. His blue-green eyes were the same pale blue as his short sleeved shirt and for once they were filled with warmth instead of ice as he offered a crooked half smile. “Happy birthday, Lauren.”
I automatically blew out the candles, but my mind was spinning with questions. I finally dropped into the closest chair and set my clasped hands on the table as I tried to order my thoughts into something I could actually voice. “How did you know it was my birthday? I never told you that.”
Mathias cleared his throat as he fussed over a pot of tea I had missed when staring at the pastries. “I helped myself to your file as well as Harry Small’s when working at Halliman’s. The information was there . . . as well as the address for your flat.”
“But you remembered,” I protested. “No one has remembered my birthday, much less attempted to celebrate it, since I turned eleven and was fostering with a family of sprites.”
“Well, if I had known it had been a full twenty years since you last celebrated, I would have gotten more candles,” he said with such dry humor that I couldn’t help a soft laugh. Then he grew more serious as he stated softly, “You have every right to be angry with me, Lauren. I have not . . . I haven’t handled any of this well despite the fact that you choosing to participate in the Trials is a, it is interpreted as a declaration.” He paced on the other side of the table, running his hands through his hair, before he continued, “I’ve learned many hard lessons about the wisdom of keeping things close to one’s chest over the years.”
“I am not Amber, Mathias.”
He stilled at my quiet words and turned to face me with such a haggard look that it took every ounce of control for me to stay in my seat. “But you could be and that is what I wish to avoid.”
“Am I a weakness or just going to be mistaken for one?” The words were out before I could stop them. However, I wanted nothing more than to know what he would say in response. I searched his expression looking for some sign that he felt even a fraction of something more than protectiveness toward me. “Why would it matter to you if that happened, Mathias?” My gaze flicked up to the 10 glowing above his head before dropping back to meet his eyes. “I told you I can’t keep doing this without knowing something matters to you and I need a little more than that. I need to know how we even got here.”
“I don’t suppose the reminder that you and Royal made the decision without me regarding the Trials would suffice?”
I frowned at him. “That’s only because you were being ridiculously stubborn and trying to sacrifice yourself for no reason. You never explained why you were so resistive to the idea.”
“I told you I did not believe you would survive the Trials; they are known for being brutal.” He gestured to my wrist and the exposed tattoo as he added gravely, “Something you should more than understand now.”
“Is that the only reason? You simply thought I was too weak?”
“The Trials weren’t designed to be easy, Lauren, especially not to the less powerful paranormal species. Spotters are barely removed from norms.” Mathias pressed his lips together as though he were debating saying more. I crossed my arms and gave him a hard look. He muttered something in a language I didn’t understand, Myrmidon perhaps, then he crossed to my side so he now towered over my chair. “I’m not permitted to help in your tasks. I accompany you because without being near . . . I am not to be trusted. That is why the rules work this way.”
“Do you have so little faith in me?”
The question hung between us, carrying far more weight than one might expect from so few words. I held Mathias’ gaze as I waited for him to do something, to say something. If he didn’t . . . I no longer wanted to stay when I survived the Trials, not if he felt nothing more than obligation.
“Lauren Hope, you are the only Spotter I’ve ever had the pleasure to know.” Mathias leaned down, bracing his hands on the arms of my chair and effectively trapping me, as he continued in a much softer tone, “However, the reason I didn’t want to see you in these Trials was because I didn’t want to place a death sentence on your head not only through the Trials but if we, if we, were to complete the bonding and wed . . . I am the last Myrmidon of my generation, the last of two or even three generations, because we are a dying breed and not meant to continue in the eyes of the paranormal community at large. When we are hunted, our enemies don’t care if our wives have an infant in their arms or carry an unborn in their wombs. They are killed with even more eagerness because it will stop the next generation.”
I reached up to cradle his face even as I studied the sorrow and weariness in his gaze. “I can’t pretend I know the same sorrows you do, Mathias. I know only a few things are certain in this life. I know I am a Spotter, and we have been hunted to the point of extinction too. I know that, well, that the paranormal community isn’t always right. Perhaps the 10s and the Myrmidons shouldn’t have been purged.” My fingers moved of their own accord, lightly stroking his smooth cheeks, as I added, “Not every 10 is an unpredictable lunatic lusting over power. Same seems true for the Myrmidon I know.”
“You’ve only known me.”
“That is all that matters,” I countered. “Mathias, I’m not here to save the 10s or the Myrmidons. I’m here for you and only you. I am most certainly not powerful enough to even imagine saving a people, but I do hope to save you. You are the only one who matters to me.”
Mathias reached up to cover my hands, closing his eyes for a breath, before he pulled them away from his face. His breath tickled my fingers as he murmured, “It wasn’t because I think little of you or that you’re too weak. I didn’t want you to participate in the Trials because I didn’t want to lose you, Lauren.” He opened his eyes, intensity shining in their icy blue depths, as he repeated more firmly, “I didn’t want to lose you simply because I made the mistake of not distancing myself as soon as I realized I found you . . . as soon as I realized I was being drawn to you. A fated bonding.” A wry chuckle escaped him as he continued holding my hands. “Something I was confident would never happen to me, and then I was sent to Halliman’s and there you were, Hope.”
I couldn’t speak. Was he actually saying? My heart leapt at the thought, but my mind cautioned against thinking he meant more when he still hadn’t actually said anything to that nature. “Fated bondings can be wrong, though, can’t they?”
“Maybe for some races,” he stated, “but not for Myrmidons. When we pay attention and haven’t lost ourselves to chasing fleeting pleasures, we know when we meet the one.” He reached out to touch my hair as he added, “I stayed by your side because I was afraid to let you go, to watch you vanish out of my life. I didn’t want to admit it even to myself, couldn’t admit it until Belintash, but this feeling is so much more than desire. I know the difference between mere attraction and this. This is love.”
He didn’t give me a chance to respond before he leaned in close and whispered something in my ear that I definitely didn’t u
nderstand. When he drew back, he kissed my cheek. “I love you, Lauren.”
My heart gave a lurch that sent me stumbling after him as he walked away heading for the door. My tongue was stuck to the roof of my mouth, but I finally loosened it enough to gasp, “Wait.”
Mathias stopped and turned back to me, a question in his eyes. “I thought you wanted to be alone. I came to say my piece, but otherwise I did not want to go against your wishes.”
“I want you to stay. Please.” Clearing my throat, I added a little shyly, “I haven’t celebrated my birthday in twenty years, it would mean a lot to celebrate it now with the, well, the man I love.”
He closed the distance between us, but didn’t try to touch me as he studied my face. “How in the world could you love me given what I’ve put you through these past months?”
A soft laugh escaped me as I brushed my hair back. “Well, it hasn’t been easy but I do.”
A sudden smile appeared as he murmured, “My delicious accent perhaps?”
My cheeks grew warm as I struggled to meet his eyes. “Don’t be cheeky, Mathias. You have a British accent. Everyone loves a British accent, especially when attached to a tall hot guy. Even if he is strangely addicted to tea.”
Dear Lord, I was flirting with him. Loving him was one thing. Intentionally flirting was another. When I peeked at him again, his crooked smile had transformed into a full grin. Then he spoke again, and I still had no idea what he was saying.
I shook my head at him. “I don’t know what you’re saying. Translate?”
“Not yet. Learning a new language requires immersion then translation.”
“Learning a new language?” I repeated as he came a little closer. “Did I, umm, did I agree to that?”
“Repeat after me, Lauren,” was his only response before he repeated whatever it was again.
I slowly stumbled over the foreign words even as my tongue balked at wrapping around them. Mathias’ gaze grew warm as I spoke, which made me almost afraid to ask what he had just taught me. “What did I say?”
“Stay with me, heart-love.”
“Is, umm, is that what you said first?”
He nodded, gaze still warm and so intense that I found it difficult to breathe normally. He leaned toward me, but didn’t take a step. He raised a hand toward me and asked, “May I?”
I offered a slight nod. I was expecting a kiss, but instead Mathias merely placed his hands around my waist and tugged me close. When I tilted my head back to look at him, he smiled and kissed my forehead before murmuring in Myrmidon again. ‘Stay with me, heart-love.’
Wrapping my arms around him, I answered softly, “I’ll stay.”
* * *
Lauren
The sound of a river’s dull roar filled the air as we rode up to two beehive shaped huts. Beyond the trees, I could see two arches rising with trees and grass covering stone. I sat a little straighter in the saddle as I strained for a better look. “Ilia, what are those?”
“Those are the Marvelous Bridges, eh, over the Erkyupriya. Can go closer tomorrow and pass through or over.” The satyr gestured to the huts. “Sheltering here for the night is best.”
As much as I would have preferred to keep going and actually catch a glimpse of the Golden Hind, I knew he was right. Still I couldn’t completely suppress my disappointment at another day passing without sight of the Hind. We were depending entirely on Ilia’s ability to pick out the Hind’s trail.
“Trying to cross the river in the dark would be foolish.”
I looked around at the quiet words and offered Mathias a slight smile. “I know. It’s just . . .” I trailed off as I swung down from Eulalia’s back. Mathias’ hand steadied me as I landed, and I drew comfort from the little touch. “Are you sure you’re feeling okay? I don’t want to lose time you don’t have.”
“Lauren.” He touched my shoulder, prompting me to look up at him again. Even as I searched his face for some sign of distress or return of the coldness, he offered a crooked smile as he murmured, “I’m all right. I am . . . much improved. Truly. This has helped. And, we have only been out of Chepelare a day.”
“You’re right. We’ll find her,” I said much more confidently than I actually felt. However, since my wrist didn’t start burning, it must have been enough to convince some part of me. Still, I would have felt much better about things if I had glimpsed even a hint of gold somewhere out there.
By the time evening had fallen completely, I was back to worrying. Mathias had spent most of yesterday making a nuisance of himself by dogging my steps when I explored the market looking for anything that might help us catch the Hind. The only difference was his new insistence on some sort of touch between us along with him murmuring various flirtatious phrases in Myrmidon, which he refused to translate until I slaughtered them in my attempts to say them back to him. It was a difference that made me feel so very . . . so very, well, wanted. Sadly, he knew that because he didn’t listen when I told him to behave himself.
Opening the satchel I’d picked up yesterday, I peered inside. The apples nestled within the bag still looked good and smelled fresh. It had been ridiculously expensive to buy them out of season, but Ilia’s comments about how the dryads and sylphs had lured the Golden Hind stuck with me. I also bought a spool of gold embroidered white ribbon even though I hadn’t quite figured out what to do with it.
Soft strains of music floated through the air as Ilia played his panpipes while Mathias heated foil wrapped sandwiches over the fire pit. After eating, the satyr resumed playing but Mathias stayed at my elbow. I glanced at him and asked softly, “Are you always going to be so underfoot? It’s like having a puppy.”
Mathias chuckled, then held his hand out. As soon as I took it, he pulled me to my feet. Wrapping his arms loosely around my waist, he pulled me close as he started swaying. I was about to protest when he caught my hand again and spun me, startling a laugh out of me. Then, he pulled me close again as we swayed and stepped into an impromptu dance not quite in time to Ilia’s playing. After a little bit, we were moving more along the lines of a simple waltz and most definitely in time with the panpipes’ gentle song. Mathias spun me again before pulling me close once more. But, this time he dipped his head close and our swaying steps slowed to a stop as he came closer and I tilted my head back in response.
We were close enough that our breaths mingled until Ilia suddenly stopped playing. “Take care, Myrmidon, eh, you have not won her to you yet.”
My grip on Mathias’ jacket tightened as his expression changed, turning cold and fierce. “Mathias, no.”
There was no response.
I tugged on his jacket, desperate to regain his full attention. “Mathias, don’t. Ilia is a friend.” I hoped. I really, really hoped.
“Can’t trust him.”
The cold assessment almost tempted me to look back at the satyr, but I didn’t dare take my eyes off Mathias right now. I pushed against him, but it was no use. He didn’t budge. I let go of his jacket in order to wrap my arms around him and press close in a hug. “Mathias.” I hesitated and slowly pronounced the Myrmidon words, slaughtering them still, but it was all I could think of in that moment. ‘Stay with me, heart-love.’
My grip on the back of his shirt tightened as he blew out a breath. Then, his hands rested on my shoulders. When I looked up, the coldness was receding from his eyes. He offered a curt nod to me before he gently pried my grip open. He left without a word, ducking outside into the night.
It was only then that panic’s wings ceased to beat quite so frantically against my ribs. I turned to Ilia and found the satyr watching me with a grave expression. Blowing out a slow breath, I asked, “How long? How long did you know what he was? And, why on earth would you mention it now?”
“Since you came to Stenímachos, eh, clear signs.”
I frowned as I remembered the discussion among the elders at Asen’s Fortress. “That’s why you said she was being rude, the elder who asked about our intentions,
isn’t it?”
Ilia spread his hands wide. “It is rude to voice suspicions, eh, even of Myrmidons.”
“I’m not a Myrmidon.”
“We know. Trials not meant for Myrmidon girls.”
“That was the discussion, wasn’t it? Whether you would turn us in or not?”
Ilia shrugged then he gestured to my wrist. “Show me.”
I hesitated only a moment before tugging the sleeve of my jacket up to expose the tattoo. Ilia leaned forward, eyes narrowing as he peered at the mark, but he didn’t attempt to touch. As he sat back, he looked grave and said, “A dangerous choice.”
“If I had made a different choice, there would have been a risk of far more deaths. This was the right choice.”
“For love?”
I met the satyr’s gleaming brown eyes. Then, I slowly dipped my head. “Yes, and for love.” I looked at the open archway, the landscape beyond covered in shadows, and added softly, “I’m going to save him, Ilia.”
Then, I walked out into the night to find my 10 before he wandered off. Fortunately, I didn’t need to look too far before I found Mathias standing near the spruces surrounding the huts. When I touched his arm, he glanced down at me but didn’t say anything. I studied his face, but there were too many shadows and not enough moonlight. “You okay?”
“Yes. Though I shouldn’t have had that reaction.”
“You aren’t completely cured yet,” I murmured before the meaning struck me. “You knew they knew what you were and what we were doing?”
Mathias sighed. “I suspected the elders knew or at least had their own suspicions regarding the matter. If anyone is going to remember my people, it would be those who lived closest to us and suffered our presence.”
I smacked his arm. “You should have told me! Why didn’t you?”
“I did not want to worry you. Since the hunters were not called and none brandished firebrands or weapons, it seemed more prudent to focus on the task at hand. If I had suspected them of plotting an ambush, I would have told you.”
Trials by Numbers Page 7