Obsidian Eyes

by A. W. Exley

  “It’s so pretty and green here,” she said. “And so damned cold compared to Egypt.”

  “Do you miss it? You hardly mention your life before St Matthews.”

  “Yes,” she replied. “It’s a different world compared to here. The warmth, the smell of the spices, the sounds, it all seems so alien now. There was an ease to life in the harem, no one was ever in a hurry. It was all so languid.”

  “I thought you would say you prefer life here,” Jared murmured.

  She opened her eyes and drank in the sight of him sprawled next to her. “Well, I had no handsome aristocrats to torment in Egypt, and I find that quite an entertaining pastime.”

  He leapt on her comment. “So you think I’m handsome then?”

  “Well.” She rolled her eyes. “Not as handsome as Duncan obviously—”

  He picked up a handful of fallen leaves and tossed them at her. Allie laughed. The leaves showered over her hair, making her look like a forest nymph. In return, she grabbed up a small stick and reached over to poke him in the ribs.

  “Hey!” He grabbed her ankle before she could squirm away and pulled her down to where he sat. Before she could kick out, he changed his grip. Being far stronger, and not hampered by long skirts, he held the upper hand in their brief wrestle. He went for something higher up and managed to capture both her slim wrists in one of his larger hands. She lay on the grass beside him, her breath escaping in quick gasps.

  He held her hands over her head, while his other hand rested on her waist.

  He looked at her with such intensity Allie’s heart skipped a beat. His gaze was a weapon that seared through her body and tore aside her flesh to expose her heart.

  “No games,” she reminded him in a bare whisper.

  “I’m not playing.” His wore an inscrutable expression as he ran his free hand up over her side to cup her face.

  She sighed. Her body ached for more contact between the two of them. Her brain urged her to arch her back and press herself into him.

  “Are you going to kiss me properly at some stage? A girl needs to know about these things.”

  “I’m going to kiss you so thoroughly you won’t be able to stand up,” he growled a promise, his hand moving to caress the back of her head, his fingers tangling in her long hair.

  “Well I am lying down at the moment.” She tilted her head in invitation, her back arching off the ground toward him.

  “Given our track record, Duncan is due to appear with a laden lunch tray.” Jared’s head shot up as he said it and then he glanced back to her. “And you’re far too tempting. I don’t want to be interrupted next time.”

  Allie laughed, he was probably right. She changed the subject before they lost themselves. “You don’t like having to follow Christian’s lead on this.”

  Jared worked his jaw, his fist opened and closed on his knee.

  Allie put her hand on Jared’s arm as he went to rise from the under the elm, forcing him to stop and stay beside her. “We need their help. We could never do this on our own. You don’t mess with the guilds. I swim in their world, and we are minnows amongst the sharks.”

  They rose to their feet and a thought struck her. “You’re a natural leader you know, and you’re not too bad with a sword either.” She added with a smile in her eyes. “You’d do well in the military.”

  His eyes widened. She guessed what he tried to keep hidden from most people. “If only I was allowed to do more than play during the holidays.” He stood with his back to the tree, next to her.

  She pursued the line of the conversation, trying to understand a little more about him, since he so rarely dropped his defences. “It’s your life, and you’ve only got one. Do you really want to fill it with regret?”

  “What about you?” Jared picked up her hand and brushed his thumb over her wrist, the place that would one day bear her guild tattoo. “What design will you choose when you turn eighteen?”

  Allie drew her hand back and reached out to touch the gnarled trunk of the ancient tree. She followed the contours, her fingers tracing fissures in the bark as she walked its circumference. Her circuitous route finishing where Jared stood, arms folded across his chest. She stopped next to him and pressed her head against the tree, as though she could hear it whisper of the knowledge it learned from millennia of watching.

  She turned, pressing her spine into the tree’s embrace. “Do you ever feel like inside you are two people, one the person you are expected to be and the other, the person you want to be?”

  Jared moved to place an arm either side of her head, trapping her between his torso and the oak. Their eyes locked, and he drew in a sharp breath. “Yes.”

  “When you think of the future mapped out for you, how does it feel, here?” She placed a finger over his heart.

  Jared captured her hand. “I ache. Like pushing my thumb into bruise.” Raising her hand to his lips, he placed a kiss on each fingertip. “How do you know?”

  “Do you think you’re the only one with problems?” A smile quirked at the corner of her mouth. “I am supposed to choose a guild, but what if I don’t want that life?”

  Black brows knitted together. “Then don’t. I’m sure your grandfather will support you.”

  “It’s not him who has mapped out my life.”

  “Then who? You’re an orphan.”

  She shook her head. “I never said that, people drew their own conclusion.”

  Jared blew out a whistle between closed teeth. “You’re father, he’s a Whisperer, he’s your guild contact.”

  I will not cry, she commanded as unshed tears threatened behind her eyes. “Yes, and an adept puppet master. You rarely see his hand show behind the curtain.”

  Jared traced the line of her cheek with the tip of his thumb. “We make quite a pair, don’t we? Neither of us knows what to do.”

  Allie studied his face. “I thought the wealthy and privileged just sat around getting drunk and making spectacles of themselves, so the newspapers had something to write about. I find it curious you actually want to have a purpose in your life.”

  “And I thought all guild born were unwashed and uneducated pick pockets, so I have found you quite the conundrum,” Jared countered with a strange light in his pale eyes.

  “Then I guess neither of us is what the other expected.” Allie’s body vibrated with small seismic eruptions wherever Jared’s body touched.

  “I never thought to find anyone who understood. We could choose our own lives, you know.”

  “For how long, though? Before we are dragged back and shackled in our cages?” Literally for me. Her lashes fluttered down to hide the tears building inside. He offered so much with his words but she could never follow. Her life and freedom would be the price.

  “Together, Allie, we could be whatever we wanted to be. We could give each other strength.” He placed his hand against her face, his thumb brushing away the tear from the corner of her eye.

  “Don’t.” Her mind recoiled, sensing a trap in the open path he laid before her. So inviting, so easy to accept all he offered.

  He dropped his head closer and Allie inhaled autumn leaves, musk and freedom. Their breath mingled, sweet with savoury, his lips poised above hers.

  “What do you want me to do, instead?” he whispered.

  “Kiss me.” She inclined her head a fraction, closing the distance between them, waiting for his warm lips to slide over hers.

  “Oy!” The shout came from across the lawn.

  “I knew it,” Jared muttered as Allie slipped out from under his arms.

  Duncan balanced a tray in his large hands containing a pitcher of cider, a loaf of bread and several slabs of meat and cheese. Allie relieved Duncan of the precarious pitcher before it dropped to the ground. They laid the meal in their chosen spot under the spreading foliage.

  He threw himself on the ground in front of Allie, before grabbing up a hunk of bread and piling it with meat and cheese.

  “What are you two discuss
ing so seriously?” he asked with a mouthful of lunch.

  “How someone as supposedly high born as you, can act so crass.” Allie never lost an opportunity to needle Duncan.

  Duncan pointed at Jared. “He’s the heir.” Then he tapped his own chest. “I’m the spare, which means I get to misbehave.” He beamed as he poured himself a beer to go with his sandwich.

  Allie made herself something to eat from the platter. “It also means you have a vested interest in keeping Jared alive.”

  “What do you mean?” Duncan paused mid-bite, with a worried look on his open face.

  “Well if anything happens to Jared, you’re it. There’s no spare for the spare. And I suspect you would be wrapped in cotton wool and rarely let outside, if you were the sole heir for the Lothian Dukedom,” Allie pointed out.

  The possibility had never crossed Duncan’s mind before.

  “Oh, bugger,” he said between mouthfuls of sandwich.

  ater that evening, after dinner, Eloise buzzed with excitement as she helped Allie to dress, although Allie remained sceptical of her friend’s choices.

  “Are you sure this is appropriate?” she kept asking, expecting she was winding her up and her actual outfit for the evening was hidden somewhere.

  “Oh, yes.” Eloise nodded, adjusting the fall of the skirt. “You should have seen the back room of the shop; I’ve never seen the likes of it before.” Her voice was full of wonder of her trip to the guild seamstress. “I thought of you the instant I saw this. And don’t worry, the boys will be showing some flesh too, you just wait and see.”

  Allie was curious as to what Eloise had talked Jared and Duncan into, or out of, by the sounds of it. She looked down at her own attire and shook her head, deciding it was no worse than what she used to wear in Egypt. Except she was now in Scotland.

  Eloise chose an outfit in buttery soft, blood red suede. The top was a tight fitting, sleeveless vest that finished right beneath Allie’s breasts. The skirt barely clung to her hips, so there was a large expanse of her flat stomach exposed from bottom of the vest to top of the skirt. The skirt was in separate but overlapping pieces so as she walked it fell open, exposing her leg all the way to mid-thigh. Eloise topped it off with a pair of golden sandals that encircled her calves as they laced half way up her leg.

  Allie thought she was back in the harem and Eloise squealed in delight when she remembered amongst her luggage a small jewel, designed to sit in her belly button. Rummaging in the bottom of her carpetbag, she found her kohl palette and they outlined her eyes heavily in the Egyptian fashion, drawing a Horus eye over her top lid. Eloise brushed her dark glossy hair around her face before standing back to survey her work.

  “What do you think?” Allie asked. Weasel whirled his eyes and returned to staring out the window.

  “I think I understand why sultans only want eunuchs guarding their harems.” Eloise gave her a wink; then, taking Allie by the hand, they headed downstairs.

  Duncan waited at the bottom, pacing back and forth waiting for the others to finish dressing. He let out a whistle as Allie descended the stairs with Eloise close behind.

  “You’re not too bad yourself,” Allie said as she took in his garb. His dark buckskin pants looked tighter than usual and the black knee-high boots had several large silver buckles up the sides. Eloise, true to her word, had talked him out of his shirt and he wore only a sleeveless black leather waistcoat, hanging open and showing his massive arms and sculptured abdominal muscles. Several strands of leather wrapped under his bicep on one arm and a leather gauntlet on the other. On his right arm, someone had painted an intricate Celtic design. It started at his elbow, wrapped around his bicep and over his shoulder before disappearing under the vest.

  He looked like an utterly irresistible, bad boy air-pirate.

  And he knew it, judging by the grin on his face.

  “Are we ready?” Jared asked from behind Allie.

  Turning, she found him dressed in a similar manner to Duncan. While leaner and slightly shorter, he gave off an air of being more dangerous than his larger cousin. His gaze lingered over her in a visual caress.

  “I think you’ll need a coat,” was his only comment.

  Allie was disappointed he didn’t have anything else to say about her attire. But his gaze never left her while Matisse helped her into a charcoal wool overcoat to keep out the chill of the night air. Jared’s wolf-like stare devoured her form until she pulled the coat tight.

  As they exited the carriage at Charlotte Square, they found an ancient stone stairway descending below street level. There was one dim glow lamp at the top of the stairs to light the way, echoed at the bottom of the stairs by a sister lamp over the imposing door.

  “I guess it’s discreet.” Jared took Allie’s hand as they headed down the imposing stone steps.

  The stairs bowed in the middle from centuries of traffic. The stairwell took them well below the street to terminate in a huge door, bound with steel. Set in the middle was a square peephole above a huge brass knocker in the shape of a mermaid, the knocker part that moved being her tail; it gave the appearance that she could bang it in annoyance.

  Duncan lifted the mermaid’s tail and rapped on the door.

  The wooden covering of the peephole slid back and a face pressed up against it. “Yes?”

  Allie and Duncan exchanged looks as Jared stepped up to the door and had a low conversation through the narrow opening. The face retreated and the panel slid back in place with a snap. The next moment the massive bolt drew back and the door swung inward to admit the friends.

  They stepped over the threshold and found themselves in a small stone entranceway, with another wooden door bound in steel opposite the first, mirroring it in design. A small window cut in the wall on the right hand side of the room revealed a young woman sitting on the other side.

  The doorman looked them up and down. “First time here?” he enquired as he shut and bolted the main door once more.

  “Yes,” they replied in unison, casting glances at each other.

  “Leave your coats, then go on down and join the fun.” He chuckled to himself, before returning to his seat by the door.

  As they shed their overcoats, Allie’s gaze wandered over the doorman’s wrists and found his mark; two footprints within a plain circle. The main image denoted his guild allegiance; any outer circle gave his ranking within the guild. The more complex the outer ring the higher the rank. Runner, street level enforcer.

  Coats were passed through the window to the waiting girl, who gave a chit to Duncan while giving him a meaningful smile. Duncan smiled back as he tucked the chit into his waistcoat pocket without even looking at it.

  Jared sighed. “Come on, focus,” he said as he gave Duncan a push in the direction of the door.

  The next set of doors opened and they found themselves on a balcony, overlooking the club below. One last set of stone stairs ran down the side of the wall to the melee beneath them.

  “What is this place?” Allie said as they slowly made their way down the last stairs.

  “Fantastic,” replied Duncan, his eyes wide as saucers, taking in everything.

  The atmosphere in the club assailed all the senses. The music was visceral, not just a sound, but a feeling as it vibrated through their limbs. Beneath them, a sea of bodies swayed like seaweed responding to invisible ocean currents. There was the sight and smell of things they had never experienced before, luring them down the stairs. The room contained a colossal bar dominating the centre of the space, with a large dance floor in front extending to a raised and curtained stage. Around the sides were numerous dark alcoves, some with light shining from behind drawn curtains, others glowing softly with different coloured globes.

  Duncan hit the floor and disappeared into the crowd. Allie and Jared turned, taking everything in. Duncan returned moments later with three shot glasses containing a dark amber liquid. He handed one to Allie, one to Jared and kept the third one for himself.

 
“Slainte.” He raised his glass.

  Allie smiled. His enthusiasm was infectious and she started to enjoy herself despite the circumstances. They tapped their glasses before all three downed their drinks in one hit.

  “What was that?” She coughed, waiting for the feeling to return to her throat and handing the glass back to Duncan before it did her any more damage.

  Duncan snorted at her. “Whisky, what did you expect in Scotland?”

  She gave Duncan a quick elbow to the gut and turned to Jared. “What’s the plan of attack?”

  “We do a quick survey and meet back here in ten minutes. Duncan, try not to get distracted by the women.”

  Duncan gave Jared a hurt look, but Allie could see his eyes were already drifting after a woman wearing a gossamer thin dress who looked like a Greek goddess. His body soon followed his eyes and he disappeared into the crowd after her.

  ″I’m sure our chaperon is around somewhere, too.” Jared gave Allie one more appraising look before heading off on a tangent to the route Duncan had taken.

  Allie wondered how Christian gained entry to the club and if he maintained his old contacts. As she passed amongst the crowd, she concentrated on hands and wrists and catalogued the guilds present. Footprints marked the Runners. The ruin sign Ken denoting knowledge was the symbol of the Whisperers. Assassins marked with scales, as they saw themselves as the hand of justice.

  Tokens slid across tables and disappeared into pockets as silent business was transacted. At this level, no coin ever changed hands. No one ran the risk of being caught by the authorities with large amounts of cash. Guild services were traded with what appeared to be the random contents of a child’s pockets; a playing card, the button from a tunic, a brightly coloured marble or a hair pin. Each token had an established value.

  We could be trading Zeb for a handful of old mismatched buttons.

  A figure caught her attention clad in black leather pants and an open black silk shirt. Christian. The years added bulk and mass to his frame that Jared and Duncan still lacked. His black clothes echoed but twisted his Conri uniform, turning him into a darker guild version of himself. She flicked her gaze to his right wrist; with the gauntlet gone, she caught the trace of his guild mark, but he bore more concentric rings than when she saw him last. She frowned, how was that possible?