Chapter 11
a tour guide from heaven
Annika slept in late again for the second morning in a row, which wasn’t a challenge. Compared to the cold hard ground she’d been sleeping on for the past few days, this bed felt like a cloud…an incredible, warm, lavender scented cloud that she wasn’t eager to climb out of. She lay for a long time under the covers until hunger drove her out. There was no one in the warm, bright kitchen when she arrived, but a heavenly smell was teasing her stomach. On top of the stove sat a pan of fresh cinnamon-raisin bread. She helped herself to a piece and looked out the window over the sink. Just then the back door opened and Finn walked in with a pile of wood in his arms, which he dropped into a bin near the hearth.
“Good morning,” he said cheerfully. “I see you found something to eat. Isn’t that bread delicious? Anthea makes it every now and again.”
“Yeah, it’s really good,” Annika said with her mouth full. “Where is everyone? Did the samodivi go to town already?”
Finn nodded and wiped the sweat from his brow.
“Yes. They left over an hour ago. Yuri was insistent that she stay on schedule with her errands.”
Annika felt awkward being left behind, but couldn’t help grinning at the way Finn pronounced the word schedule. With such a deep voice, she could’ve listened to him read the phone book for hours.
“Do you need any help with chores around here? I could help you bring in more wood.”
“That’s very kind of you, but I believe we’ve more than enough for now,” he said, taking off his boots and setting them by the door. “And I’m all finished cleaning out the stalls; perhaps you could help Talvi feed and groom the horses?”
“Oh, okay.” Annika didn’t know the first thing about grooming horses, but at least she’d have something to do.
“Well then, I’ll see you later. I’m off to take a bath,” he said before leaving the kitchen. Annika grabbed another hunk of bread and headed for the stable. The air was crisp but the sunlight warmed her shoulders on her way to the stable doors, which were cracked open.
“Hello? Helllloooo?” Annika called out. Her eyes adjusted to the indoor light and she peered into an empty stall to see at least half a dozen fluffy kittens playing in the straw. She walked over to them and picked up a little black ball of fluff that immediately began to purr.
“I didn’t think it was possible for anyone to sleep later than me,” Talvi remarked from the aisle. He set down a pail of water and brought the other the stall beside her.
“Finn said you could use some help with grooming,” she said, and set the kitten down. She followed him to the roomy stall where a huge palomino stallion stood, eating his hay in dainty little bites. “What do you want me to do?” He thought for a moment, filling a container with the fresh water.
“You can pick their hooves. I haven’t done that in a while.”
“Pick their hooves?”
“I’ll show you,” he said, and slipped a soft rope halter over the horse’s dark muzzle. He led the stallion away from his hay and out into the aisle, then grabbed a sinister looking object resembling an ice pick from a box of tools. After securing the horse in the crossties, he ran his hand down the palomino’s foreleg until the animal lifted it, and then held the hoof against his thigh, scooping in an outward motion with the strange tool.
“That’s all there is to it,” he said, releasing the stallion’s massive hoof to the floor. “Now you try.”
“I don’t know…” Annika hesitated. “What if he kicks me?”
“Galileo wouldn’t hurt a fly. He’s certainly not going to kick you,” Talvi assured her. Then, to her surprise, he crawled underneath the horse and patted his stomach from below. The golden horse tossed his flaxen mane but his powerful legs didn’t budge. “See? He’s a perfect gentleman, just like his owner.”
“So what you’re saying is that he’s not your horse,” she quipped. An amused grin spread across Talvi’s face as he rose to his feet.
“No he isn’t, you cheeky lass. He belongs to Finn.”
He gave her another demonstration, showing her how to pick up the other foreleg before letting her have a try.
“This isn’t so bad,” she remarked. While she dislodged small stones and mud, he went into the next stall with the other bucket of water. When he returned, he helped her move on to the next hoof, instructing her how to stand with much more manners than he’d used during their archery session together. When Galileo’s hooves were clean, Talvi handed her a curry comb and demonstrated how to use it, then picked up another brush and started on the horse’s other side. Their eyes met and she looked away quickly.
“Do you know when the others are coming back?” she asked.
“I have no idea what time to expect them,” he replied, trying to catch her gaze again. “I was still asleep when they left.”
“That must be a nice life, sleeping in late and lying around all day long like you do,” she said, partially teasing and partially envious of such a lifestyle.
“I’m working now, aren’t I?” he pointed out.
“Yeah, but what else do you do, exactly?” she prodded.
“What else do I do?” He scrunched up his face and looked as though he had never been asked this question before. “Well, sometimes I work in the garden or do chores around the house. Sometimes I fetch things for others, or help them solve some type of conundrum. Then I like to take a nap in the afternoon or paint, or read, or work on some other project. Sometimes I help cook dinner, if I’m home. I like to go to the Tortoise and Hare a few nights a week, but my favorite thing to do is go riding through the mountains and watch the weather change.” He paused to smile wistfully. “I’m rarely home.”
“So you don’t have a regular job?” was her surprised response.
“No I do not. Do you?”
“I did until recently,” she said, reaching under the stallion’s mane to brush his neck.
“What was your duty?”
“Before I was a waitress I translated documents,” she said, thinking how unexciting it must have sounded.
“Did you enjoy it?”
“Well, no. It was boring as shit. That’s why I stopped doing it and went back to waiting tables. I made a lot of money while I did it though.”
“What’s the point of having all that money if you don’t enjoy how you make it?” he asked curiously. She laughed at him.
“Like I haven’t thought of that myself? Trust me, I wonder that all the time. Where I come from, money is everything. It’s the reason people get out of bed and work jobs that they hate all day long. We all just want to be rich like you.”
“Like me?”
“Yeah, like you,” she said, surprised that he could be so naïve. “I wish I was rich like you so I could spend my days worrying about things like if I should play in the garden, read, paint, or nap today. Hmm, let’s see, it’s so hard to decide,” she said, mocking him.
“Do you think I swim in a pool of gold as well?” he said sarcastically.
“Maybe. Is that on the tour?” she joked. He looked irritated that she would say such a thing.
“Have you ever spent an afternoon in the freezing wind, digging potatoes out of the cold, hard dirt? Have you ever had to chop down trees so you’d keep warm in the winter? Do you have a crazy father who, on impulse, decides to construct yet another addition to your home, only you have to go get the marble yourself? That alone makes the pianoforte story sound like a walk in the trees. Or if you tear your shirt, you probably just throw it away and get a new one, don’t you? I’ve been mending this single shirt for sixteen years. Look.” He pointed to a small spot on the sleeve that had been patched.
“Okay, okay, I believe you,” Annika said, trying to avoid a fight.
“No, really. I want you to look at this,” he insisted. He walked under the horse’s neck and pointed to the spot on his shirt. “Here’s where I fell out of a tree four years ago. And here,” he pointed to his other sleev
e. “I got caught on a rosebush last spring. And this one is from breaking up a fight between some of the barn cats.”
“Fine, I see your point,” Annika surrendered.
“I’m not convinced that you do,” Talvi answered, still nettled. “It’s different here, Annika. When I don’t feel like cooking for two hours, I can’t put something in one of those white boxes and instantly have food or clean clothes.”
“You mean a microwave and washing machine?” she tried to correct his terminology.
“Whatever you call the blasted things, it’s not an option,” he said with a hint of indignation in his voice. “We may have a comfortable looking life, but it requires a lot of work. There are times when I would give it all up to have what you have. Why do you think I visit the modern world often enough to be familiar with some of the same music as you? I would love to have an auto and be somewhere in a matter of hours, not weeks. I would love to have hot running water instead of building a fire to heat my bath. I would love it if my mother could just put her clothes in one of those micro-boxes and walk away, instead of scrubbing them by hand and hanging them to dry. But we can’t do that here, and that’s just the way it is.”
“I didn’t mean to offend you, Talvi. I’m sorry if I did,” she found it humorous, imagining Althea loading clothes into a micro-box. He tossed his brush into the bin before turning to look her square in the eye.
“It’s an argument that can’t be won; progress and the high price you modern humans pay for it. Has technology really freed up your precious time? I may work hard on occasion, but at least the air is clean and our rivers run clear. It’s far more than any modern city can claim, what with all that pollution. Who honestly enjoys the scent of auto exhaust and factory farms? Or the smell of festering waste in the back alleys? It really makes one question what progress is, doesn’t it? Personally, I don’t know how you can live in such a place and be happy.”
“It’s not as bad as you make it out to be,” she said quietly. She felt embarrassed to have insulted him in his own home, but she didn’t appreciate him bashing the world where she came from either. “Obviously it’s interesting enough for you to keep visiting.”
Neither of them spoke as he released Galileo from his lead and sent him out to the expansive treed pastures. Clearly there were aspects of Talvi’s life that she didn’t understand. It was still so hard to believe he lived in a land without cars, without microwaves or telephones, without hot running water and electricity; not when he was surrounded by such extravagance.
“Did you still want that tour I promised you?” he asked her on the way out of the stable. They stopped by the water pump to rinse their hands and take a drink of the cool well water.
“Oh, well, only if you aren’t busy,” she said, offering him a chance to change his mind.
“I think I have some time.” He dipped his hand into the pocket of his pants and pulled out a pocket watch, furrowing his brow as he checked the hour. “Yes. I could schedule a tour in between reading and doing nothing. Oh, bollocks, there was that nap I was supposed to take, but I’ll fit it somewhere into my busy schedule,” he said with a smirk. She gave him a punch in the arm at his teasing, glad that the tension from a moment earlier had evaporated. And the way he said schedule…with such a velvety voice, she could’ve listened to him read the phone book for hours as well.
“Let’s go to the greenhouse first, shall we? That’s where Anthea and my mother spend a lot of their time.” They walked to a nice sized greenhouse, with four long rows of plants inside. The two eldest women of the house were wearing aprons and were repotting a selection of plants dotted with tiny red flowers. Stella was sitting on the floor, jamming dandelions and blades of grass into little pots of soil.
“Hello Talvi; hello Annika,” his mother greeted them.
“Good morning, Mother.”
“I don’t know why you insist on telling me that every day when it’s always well past noon by the time I see you,” she said, brushing a stray hair from her face. Her affectionate smile showed that she must have been the most patient mother in the world, raising such an incorrigible son as her youngest.
“If I have not yet had lunch, then it is still morning,” Talvi explained to Annika, and then turned to his mother. “You know my philosophies on the rest of the world starting the day too early.” Althea could only nod.
“What are you doing?” Annika asked, noticing the meticulous care that Anthea and Althea handled the flowering plants.
“Oh, I’ve been procrastinating,” Anthea answered. “The clang sheng will never flower if we don’t get it transplanted.”
“Is that Chinese?” asked Annika.
“Why yes,” said Anthea, impressed at Annika’s knowledge. “Chinese medicine has been one of our favorite areas of research for quite a while now. And these plants will be used to cure fatigue and weakness. It’s also helpful if you lose your appetite. This one over here is suan zao ren. It’s used for insomnia and anxiety.”
“It sounds like you know your stuff.”
“Well, I do,” Anthea smiled. “Talvi, would you be a dear and check on Sloan for me? I put him down a little while ago, but he was fussy.”
“We were just going in anyway,” he said, hiding his disinterest. “I suppose if I’m to give you a proper tour, we should start at the front door.” He led Annika out of the greenhouse, then around the side of the massive spread, and finally up one of the curving staircases. He opened the tall doors that stood parallel to the stained glass windows and let her in. She looked up and her eyes grew wide. There was the largest chandelier she’d ever seen, shining bright silver with thousands of tiny crystals glittering and reflecting prisms of color everywhere in the foyer. A staircase to the left led up to the next floor, and the handrail running alongside it was an intricate work of art in itself, made up entirely of wrought iron curling into grapevine tendrils. A simple mural ran up the wall along the staircase, depicting fields of wildflowers and birds flying through the sky.
“This is one of the first things that Yuri and I painted in the house,” he said. “We used to do everything together, but time changes all things.” He shook his head in disapproval and continued describing the work that went into the rest of the room. It was incredible to think it was built without bulldozers and power tools; just the willing hands of its inhabitants.
They walked through the arched hallway and turned to the right, strolling down another hall with a series of four identical double doors. He opened the one closest to them and they were greeted with light from a row of arched windows that led out to the courtyard. Looking around, Annika saw a vast ballroom, with high ceilings and smaller chandeliers similar to the enormous one in the entrance, but less elaborate. The wide arched ceiling was painted with fairies, butterflies, bumblebees and dragonflies hovering in a bright blue sky dotted with fluffy silver lined clouds. The floor was arranged in simple geometric patterns made of the palest pink and white marble. Round framed mirrors hung high up to reflect the chandeliers, and Annika could only imagine what the room looked like when it was lit up at night, with the windows overlooking the courtyard. At that moment she was willing to dig potatoes all day and maybe even give up running water to live in a place like this.
Sensing her awe, Talvi clasped her hand and spun her around. He guided her in a semicircle and dipping her down until her hair touched the floor. It caught her off guard, but she yielded to his movement easily.
“I didn’t think you would be so graceful,” he said, pulling her back up to him with strong arms. “You have to promise me a dance on my birthday.”
“Well, since you said please,” she laughed, and a flush crept over his face.
“Please?” he asked with a sheepish smile. She nodded and walked away from him, staring up at the paintings on the ceiling and the thousands of tiny rainbows bouncing off the walls from the cut crystal chandeliers. There was magic in this place; she could feel it pouring out of everything around her.
“Come along, there’s much more to see,” he ushered her kindly. They stepped into a round room with ten tall, narrow windows forming a crescent, all arching to a soft point in the center. There were two chaise lounges, both covered in soft chocolate brown velvet. Each had a soft knit afghan made of yarn dyed in brilliant hues lying upon it. Between the lounges stood a very tall ficus tree, whose branches draped lazily over the furniture. In front of the lounges was a short round table with a pile of books upon it. At the center of the room on the stone floor sat a small wood burning stove.
“I guess you would call this the conservatory, but I call it the reading room. The libraries are just down the hall, but the light in here is incredible, as you can see,” he told her, pointing at the lovely ironwork of the windows.
“No wonder you call it the reading room. I can imagine sitting here all day long in the winter, watching the snow fall,” she said dreamily. She walked over and lay down on one of the lounges and looked out the windows to see the stable and the pastures full of trees. Their autumn colors popped against the backdrop of a bright blue sky. The ficus branches overhead gave her the impression that she was outside, lying in the forest with all the comforts of home. Wrought iron sconces shaped like curling grapevines were affixed to the wall between every other window. Underneath the windows were long narrow tables that held dozens of potted plants, filling the room with clean sweet smelling air. She could have spent the rest of the day right there in that spot, but something caught her eye that made her sit up in curiosity. On the portion of the wall that was not taken up by windows hung a beautiful painting. There was something very familiar about it, and very odd.
She stood up, studying the bright painting closely. A woman dressed like an Egyptian goddess was looking down and to the side at a glittering green serpent she held around her arms. A multitude of colors made up her intricate patchwork gown and she wore a jeweled ring on every finger. A young man in black, silver and green stood beside her, whispering something tender in her ear. The woman’s eyes were outlined with dark kohl, her features strikingly familiar. They both had black hair. The boy…his hair…it was wild, sensual, soft and catching the wind. The longer Annika gazed at the painting, the more she thought it looked like Yuri, with her twin brother telling her a secret. It was the twins, she realized.
“This is amazing!” she remarked, squinting at the brush strokes in front of her nose. “That looks like it was painted by Gustav Klimt.”
“I’m surprised you know his work.”
“Of course I know it,” she breathed. “I think my uncle’s taken me to every art museum in Paris. This isn’t like the ones I’ve seen at the Musée d’Orsay. Is it real?”
“Well it’s not imaginary,” Talvi said with a little grin, which faded to a little frown. “He was a very strange man…lots of cats. Yes, far too many cats. His house smelled like piss.”
“You say that like you’ve got firsthand experience.”
“Firsthand and secondhand, unfortunately. We had to air out our clothes for a week, but he captured our likeness quite well, don’t you think?”
“You and your sister sat for Gustav Klimt?”
“Lots of people sat for him,” Talvi said with a shrug. Annika looked at him in disbelief, then at the painting, and then back at him. She kept waiting for him to crack a joke or smile or laugh, but he simply headed towards the door. They walked down a different hall where an enormous grandfather clock stood looming over them. The woodgrain of the cedar shimmered as her eyes wandered over the intricate carvings of tree branches and two horned owls that stared straight ahead like silent watchmen. An image of the full sun leaned slightly to the right on the clock face, telling her that it was well past noon.
“We best hurry; when this thing strikes you might jump out of your skin. It always scared me when I was younger,” he said, winking at her. They walked to the end of the hall and turned left. She recognized the doorway to the dining room and saw the row of doors, which they strolled past, along with the entrance to the music room, and finally stopped at the next door.
“I’ll show you those other two rooms you didn’t believe me about. Watch your step,” Talvi cautioned as they entered the dark room. “Most of these things are put away, but the larvae are always playing with something.”
“Larvae? Do you mean Stella and Sloan?”
“Yes. The smaller they are, the more they squirm like insect larvae,” he said as he walked to the nearest window and drew back the curtains, causing a bright light to illuminate the room.
“Wow!” she sighed, taking it all in. They were surrounded by shelves of sheet music and countless different horns and woodwinds. Most of the room was uncluttered and there were a few red velvet chairs and a sofa situated around a baby grand piano in the center of the room. The floors were covered with exotic carpets and the walls were adorned with numerous instruments. Some she recognized, and many she did not. Thankfully Talvi pointed them all out to her.
“A dulcimer, three different harps, a sitar, guitar, mandolin, violin, viola, cello, a harpsichord and a virginal.” He seated himself at the harpsichord, playing a few somber notes as she watched over his shoulder. Annika recognized the music and couldn’t help being moved by the passion with which he played. The way his body moved made it seem as though he felt every single note pass through his soul.
“I don’t think I’ve ever heard Moonlight Sonata on a harpsichord,” she said, looking at Talvi in a completely different way.
“When I heard him play this I simply had to learn it,” he replied, fingering the keys faultlessly.
“When you heard who play it?”
“Beethoven, who else?”
“You saw Beethoven play?” she asked skeptically.
“Mmm hmm,” he nodded as he continued to play. “Vienna, 1801. My entire family went to see him perform. It was incredible. He had a gift for evoking an extraordinary range of emotion.” He finished the segment that was most familiar to her and pulled the protective cover over the keys. Then he turned around on the bench to face his audience of one, leaning back on his elbows.
“Talvi, exactly how old are you that you saw him play, and that you and your sister sat for Gustav Klimt?”
“Two hundred and ninety nine,” he replied without a trace of deception. She kept waiting for him to burst out laughing, but he never did.
“Like, years?”
“I told you I’m a dreadful liar.” He looked into her soul with those hypnotic eyes and Annika felt the magnetic pull between them again. His eyes seemed to smile, but his mouth remained motionless. The only thing that moved was one of his hands as he turned up a palm and beckoned her to come to him.
“You’re nothing but trouble, do you know that?” she accused. He nodded in agreement, and motioned again, this time with an inviting smile. Against her better judgment she took another step closer until his hands rested firmly around her waist. They felt as though they belonged there. He slowly coaxed her down to sit on his thigh and she couldn’t help sinking her fingers into his messy hair to relive the scent of cinnamon and dried leaves that clung to him. He pressed his forehead gently against hers, looking into her eyes.
“I wonder what you brought me for my birthday present?” he murmured. “You know, I wouldn’t mind opening your gift a bit early.”
“What makes you so sure I’m giving you anything?”
“Look where you’re sitting? All I’ve left to do is unwrap you,” he said as he gave her a lecherous look and bounced his thigh ever so slightly. “And play with you, of course.”
“I think your problem is that you just expect to get what you want,” she said, even as she was breaking out in goose bumps.
“I’ve never thought of that as a problem.”
“I’ll bet you have a really hard time dealing with rejection, don’t you?”
“I regret to inform you, my dear,” he closed his eyes and opened them very slowly, “but I do not know the meaning of that word.”
&nb
sp; Annika took a deep breath swallowed hard before looking at him. She’d dealt with egotistical musicians hitting on her, using their best lines to try to coax her into going home with them after a show. She could disregard almost anything they promised her, and sometimes she just laughed at them, but not this time. This one was different. This one was actually getting to her.
She considered the situation she was in. He’d advised her to find something pleasurable to pass the time and this definitely fit the bill. For one thing, she knew she could keep it casual; they both knew she wasn’t staying, and by the time he grew bored with her she’d be gone. It might be fun to have a harmless fling with an elven guy from another world. His offer was more than tempting. She let her fingers trace the outside of his pointed ears, making his eyes close and his head tilt to one side as a small sigh escaped his parted lips. Her mind was racing, scrambling to think of an excuse not to give in, as he reached underneath her shirt and let his fingernails lightly scrape against her waist. He leaned down to speak into her ear, even though there was no need to whisper.
“Are you certain you don’t want me to open your gift early?” he purred into her ear. “Do you honestly think you can wait until my birthday?” His wanton tone and warm lips and the things they suggested were the most erotic sensations upon her ears. Thankfully she was sitting and not standing, because her knees were shaking slightly as she pressed them together. He adjusted his belt and looked at her intently, waiting for her response.
“I don’t think I can. You win,” she whispered back, trembling with anticipation. Talvi smiled to himself before he pried her knees apart.
“I think we both win.” He wrapped her legs around his waist and ran his hands down her back, causing it to arch slightly against his body. Every passing second felt like an eternity until their lips met, and when his tongue slipped into her mouth she felt the rush come along with the visions of his kiss. She was greeted with images of countless sunsets, hands playing piano keys, fingers strumming a guitar, Ghassan rearing with his long black tail blowing wildly in the wind and trees speeding by. Overwhelmed by the experience, Annika pulled away from him.
“Why do I keep seeing this stuff? How come every time I kiss you, I see things like the forest zooming by?” He raised his eyebrows in interest.
“You can see that? What else do you see?” She told him about all the things she’d experienced when their bodies touched. “Why does that keep happening?”
“Well, you’re describing experiences which I find pleasing, so I imagine a kiss from you is a divine trigger of sorts.” He leaned close to kiss her again, but she backed away.
“Then what did you see the other day in the woods?” she pressed. “You never told me what you saw the first time you kissed me.”
“I don’t recall,” he said, scratching his head a little.
“I don’t believe you for a—”
His mouth prevented hers from finishing her sentence, and the next thing she knew she was sinking backwards and onto the floor in his arms. He used his knees to spread her legs further apart before nestling his narrow hips between them, then began a slow grind against her while his mouth traveled hungrily along her neck. Those wild, untrimmed sideburns made her laugh when they brushed against her ear, and they made her moan when he pushed up her shirt and took each breast into his mouth. They fumbled at each other’s clothing and Talvi already had her sweater on the floor before she’d managed to unfasten a single button of his shirt. He covered her ribcage in soft kisses and tugged at her pants until he’d exposed her hips. When he untied the drawstring of her pants and slipped his hand under the waistband, he stopped kissing her long enough to ask, “Is this alright? You know I can’t make you do anything you don’t want to do.”
“Oh, if I don’t like something, I’ll let you know,” she assured him. With a nod of approval at her response, he leaned on his right elbow and caressed her inner thighs with his left hand, squeezing and teasing her mercilessly with his fingertips. Then he slipped a finger inside of her, and suddenly he became still. His mouth and his eyes pressed shut and a long, drawn-out sigh escaped from his nose.
“What is it?”
“It’s you,” he murmured, and shook his delirious head before looking down at her. “I didn’t expect your hot little honeycomb would be spilling over with nectar already.” He carefully slipped another finger inside, making her shudder and twist in pleasure at his fluid movements. “Why…you are absolutely dripping with honey! Gods be damned if I can’t last long enough to savor every drop.”
“Then you better start thinking about baseball statistics, or we’re going to have a serious problem,” she warned him, quivering under his touch. He snickered and withdrew his fingers, thoroughly distracting her with the long, deliberate strokes of his tongue as he sucked them clean. Unable to wait a minute longer for him, she reached for his belt and gasped when he took her hand and slid it down below his buckle.
“Do you still think elves are small?” he taunted, cupping her hand over his hard bulge. “Or have I convinced you otherwise?”
“I stand corrected,” she half-laughed, half-whispered.
“Now, now…you’re too short for that. Let’s keep you on your back—at least for now,” he hummed, then reached for her pants, tugging them down past her ankles before crawling over her once more. He dipped down to kiss her again, and she could only imagine what sorts of statistics were running through his head. Their breathing was so interwoven with urgent sighs and moans that she barely heard him unbuckle his belt over the faint chimes of the clock in the hall.
“Blast!” he hissed with an angry scowl. He rolled off of her and lay on his back, panting as he stared intently up at the ceiling. She sat up and gave him an accusatory look.
“What the hell? Don’t you dare tell me that you blew it already!” she sputtered as she began to feel the first inklings of outrage at him. While the clock continued to chime, he let a small sniggle escape his mouth, until it turned into a full blown belly laugh. She was about ready to punch him out of frustration.
“No, that’s not it at all.” He turned and looked at her with a pained expression, letting his eyes rove up and down her naked body. “Right now I want nothing more than to pleasure you for the remainder of the afternoon.” He took a deep breath and spoke though clenched teeth. “That bloody clock woke up Sloan. He’s upstairs crying as I speak. I’m sure you can imagine that is not the soundtrack I want to hear during this particular performance.”
“Oh, I see,” Annika said in disappointment. She pulled her sweater back on and strained to listen for the crying toddler, but heard nothing besides the clock finally striking noon. “I guess we should go check on him then.”
Talvi nodded, stood up reluctantly, and buckled his belt.
“What a bloody shame,” he lamented when she rose to put on her pants. “Letting all that honey go to waste.”
“I’m sure they’ll be more,” she said with a coy smile and smoothed her disheveled hair. “And I’ve been meaning to get my backpack from your bedroom. It might take me a while to remember exactly where I put it.”
“Yes, it very well might. I would plan to spend at least a few hours on your first attempt,” he agreed with innocent eyes and a wolfish grin. “Although my room is quite large. I expect you’ll have to return multiple times before you get what you came for.”
They left the room and passed the now much-despised clock, then hustled up the staircase to the second floor. It was mostly bedrooms, where they stepped into a room that had to be the children’s nursery. The drapes had been pulled shut, and a howling little boy was anxious to get out of his spacious crib. His red face was covered in tears, and he only screamed more when his uncle picked him up. It was obvious that Talvi had no desire to interact with what he referred to as larvae. He held Sloan out at arm’s length as though he were radioactive.
“I don’t understand why you’re still crying,” he said impatiently to his nephew as they walked out
of the nursery. “You’re out of bed; what more do you want?”
Annika tried to be patient with the shrieks as they echoed and bounced off the walls, but it was quickly getting on her nerves before they even reached the end of the hallway.
“Here, give him to me,” she insisted, and took the screaming boy out of Talvi’s obliging hands. She hugged him close with his head resting on her heart and rubbed his back, swaying from side to side as she soothed him with her voice. In less than a minute he was silent, except for the little sniffs here and there. She walked into the reading room and sat down on one of the chaise lounges, lying back with Sloan’s head resting on her chest.
“That’s amazing. He never calms down with me, he just screams in my ears until I want to scream,” said Talvi while he looked on in disbelief.
“I’d scream too, if you held me like that,” Annika said, frowning at him. “You have to reassure him that he’s safe.”
“Where did you learn that?”
“My dad used to volunteer me to baby-sit a lot of the kids on the army bases when I was growing up. I guess I was good at it.”
“You certainly are. I can’t believe how quickly he quieted down,” Talvi said, observing how content Sloan was capable of being.
“It’s a pretty simple technique, see? I put his head over my heartbeat so he can feel it. It’s really comforting. And then you rub their back, and hopefully they end up like this,” she pressed her nose against Sloan’s curls and smiled.
“You better not move unless you want to do your trick again,” Talvi warned under his breath. “He’s fallen back asleep.”
“No, I definitely don’t want to wake him. If he doesn’t have a good nap he’ll be a sour little boy. Even worse than you,” she teased. Talvi shot her a look, but eventually smiled. He’d been knocked down more than a few pegs since meeting this saucy American girl.
“What’s in this pile of books? Anything interesting?”
Talvi stood there, deep in thought, then bent down and silently moved the table off to one side. Then he swung the other sofa around so that it touched the one Annika was lying on. He covered her and Sloan with the afghan and grabbed a green book from the table, settling in the chair diagonal from them. It was a fantastic idea; it looked like their own little island. He opened the book and she recognized the cover immediately.
“Is that Andersen’s Fairy Tales? Let me guess; 1944, right? With a little Dachshund in the bottom corner of the inside cover. And the man on the left is dedicating this book to his granddaughter,” she whispered excitedly.
“Why, you know this very book?” he asked and showed her the inside cover. Her description was perfect.
“Yeah, my grandma gave them to us when we were in high school. There were two. I got the green one and Charlie got—”
“The red one?” Talvi asked, and held up a red covered book the same size as the green one.
“Yeah, that’s the one. How crazy is that?” Annika marveled, trying to keep her voice low.
“I don’t know, you tell me. The green one is mine and the red one is Yuri’s copy.” Talvi was looking at her very strangely at the coincidence that they owned the same exact books. “Finn gave them to us not that long ago it seems, but I suppose it’s been a few years.”
“Why don’t you read me my favorite story, then?”
“Which one is your favorite?” he asked her.
“You ought to know, it’s probably your favorite too, Prince Talvi,” she teased. He ignored this comment and cleared his throat, turning the pages to the very first story in the book. Instantly she was lost in the world of a young prince who, in his quest for knowledge, met the winds of the North, South, East, and West and in the end was brought to the Garden of Paradise. As Talvi read, he gave each character a different voice or accent. The prince in the story had claimed that he could resist the very thing that drove Adam and Eve from the Garden. Sin. Temptation. But alas, he did not even last one night when he was tempted by a lovely fairy princess and was removed in an instant from the wonders of the garden.
Annika saw herself become the fairy princess from the story, dripping in shimmering gauze and jewels. She was sleeping under the heavy branches of the enchanted, glittering tree in the center of the garden while waiting to see if the prince would come to her and sin, or stay away and preserve the garden for all time. The tall, black-haired prince entered the room, and by the look in his blue-green eyes, there was no question that he had sin on his mind. He watched her for a long time, wondering if just a light touch on the lips was really enough to banish him from the garden. He leaned down to kiss her as she lay in her little bed of velvet and silk and rose petals. As his weight rested on her chest and his lips brushed against hers, the garden did not sink into the center of the earth as he had been warned. He kissed her deeply with a soft touch, and his hands moved over her skin, warming her bare arms. She felt her body stir as giant flowers pushed out of the ground and rose all around them. Tulips, roses, snapdragons, and daisies lifted their heavy, fragrant blooms, searching for the warmth and light, but there was no sun. The flowers were bending and hugging each other, planted in the ground, yet touching and caressing one another as though they were lovers.
Annika blinked sleepily and was greeted with a rested smile, bright blue eyes and a mass of blond curls. She must have dozed off, hearing Talvi tell the story. The book he’d been reading from was resting on his chest, still open, and his head was nestled into the chair as he slept. Sloan let out a little squeal and his uncle opened his eyes.
“How long have we been asleep?” she asked him, wiping some drool off of Sloan’s tiny mouth.
“A while. I skipped to the end. You talk in your sleep, did you know that?” he said while he stretched and yawned.
“Yeah, I do that sometimes. What did I say?” she asked curiously.
“It wasn’t decipherable,” he said, sitting up and closing the book. “But it was amusing, nonetheless.”
“Did it sound anything like mo rees toe comp anya vlatzee?”
“You don’t even know what that means,” he taunted.
“Is that so? Then I guess we were just two flowers in a meadow with no bees to help us out today,” she smirked.
“Who told you that?” he seemed slightly more than surprised, maybe even upset.
“Oh, I have my sources,” she smiled, and any trace left of his cocky arrogance disappeared. It was replaced with a tender gaze, so sweet and innocent, that she couldn’t even begin to understand the force that was fueling it.
“Then I suppose I can tell you how glad I am that my little bee crossed that meadow when he did. I was beginning to doubt if flowers like you even existed,” he said and leaned over, about to kiss her in the afternoon light that poured through the tall windows around them. She didn’t quite understand what he meant, about her even existing, but she didn’t want to admit how clueless she was.
She closed her eyes, expecting a kiss, but she only heard him gasp sharply. She opened her eyes and saw that Sloan had grabbed a fistful of his uncle’s long hair and pulled himself to a standing position, using it as leverage. Talvi groaned and winced in pain. Carefully he unwound the small fingers that threatened to give him a bare spot on the side of his head.
“You’re a better chaperone than your mother, aren’t you, you wretched little maggot? Now when am I going to have Annika and nearly the entire house to myself again? You completely ruined it for us today,” he told the little boy, who smiled like he’d planned it all along.
The three of them walked to the kitchen where the smell of something delicious was coming from the oven. Anthea was talking with her mother while Stella clutched at her dress. She turned around with a smile on her face.
“There’s my handsome little boy! You must have had a good nap. You look so happy,” Anthea said and took him from Annika. “Thank you for watching him. I was able to get so much done in the greenhouse, and then we made eggplant and zucchini lasagna for dinner. You’re j
ust in time.”
“Well thanks for cooking. It smells delicious,” Annika said graciously.
“After dinner, would you like to accompany Finn and I to the village? We could find the girls,” Talvi offered as he gathered some plates and silverware.
“You know where they are?” she asked. “I thought you said you didn’t know!”
He smiled sweetly at her.
“I didn’t know where they were today, but as long as Runa and Yuri are together, they’ll be at the Tortoise and Hare by sunset.”
“If we’re going out, should I dress up?” she asked.
“No, you can wear that if you like. It’s nothing fancy; it’s a pub. We’ll just have a pint.” Anthea burst out laughing at this comment.
“With you it’s never just a pint! Why else would Dorsey put up with your antics? What you’ve spent in the past year and a half alone could support that establishment.” Talvi stuck his tongue out at his oldest sibling while their mother’s back was turned. “Back when I used to go to the Tortoise and Hare, we were happy with a couple of pints. Now it’s turned into this event,” Anthea added and kissed her little boy.
“Back when I used to go, we were dancing on the tables at the end of the night, nearly every night,” Althea said, wiping her hands on a kitchen towel. “Times change, but many things never do.” Talvi cast his mother a doubtful look.
“I cannot see you dancing on a table, Mother,” he said dismissively.
“I did a lot of things that you probably cannot imagine me doing,” she said with a secretive grin.
“Like what?” he asked, suddenly very interested, but Althea only smiled and shook her head. She took two large pans of lasagna out of the oven and brought them out to the courtyard, and Talvi followed behind her with the plates and silver. Ambrose and Finn joined them and everyone sat down to their early dinner al fresco. The breeze was just enough to make the crystals and ribbons that hung in the four trees dance around, catching Annika’s eyes.
“Why do you have so many birdhouses? I don’t even see that many birds back here,” she observed.
“Those aren’t birdhouses, they’re for the fairies when they come to stay with us,” Finn told her. “Talvi’s craftsmanship is excellent. I suppose that’s why the fairies are always dropping by. If I were a fairy, he’s the one who I would ask to build my house,” he said, and began to cut a piece of lasagna.
“And I suppose they have tiny chairs and beds, and an itty bitty set of plates that they dine on?” she joked. Finn seemed surprised that she found this amusing.
“Well, yes,” he said, putting the slice on her plate before cutting another for his mother. “What house doesn’t?”
“You can’t be serious.” Annika didn’t believe him for a second. The chairs would have to be an inch and a half tall at the most, to fit in the little houses.
“Go and see for yourself,” he told her. She looked at Althea, then Anthea, then Ambrose, waiting for one of them to tell her to ignore Finn’s joke, but they just smiled and shared a glance. She got up and walked over to one of the little houses with the thatched roof covered in moss, and peeked in a window. Indeed there was a little table and chairs, one of which was tipped over from blowing in the wind. The smallest bottle of wine was rolling back and forth across the floor with each sway in the breeze. A tiny staircase led up to the second level where there were tiny pillows and blankets strewn about the entire floor.
“You make those? I’ve never seen anything like that before in my life,” she said, returning to the much larger table with the much taller elves seated at it. Talvi was smiling fondly at her as he stood and pulled out her chair, and pushed it back in after she was seated.
“Thank you,” she said, not noticing the looks being exchanged by his family at his impeccable display of manners. “Those are little pixie palaces, aren’t they?” she remarked.
“Oh no, not pixies. Fairies,” Finn emphasized.
“What’s the difference?”
“What’s the difference between fairies and pixies?” Finn blustered, but Talvi spoke up before his brother started spewing out facts right and left.
“The main difference is that I’ve invited the fairies to the party, but not the pixies,” he said, and reached for the water pitcher, refilling Annika’s glass. If she hadn’t been so focused on the swaying houses in the background, she might have noticed that his mother and brother could have used a refill themselves, but Talvi hadn’t bothered to fill their glasses.
“Uncle Talvi, I want a glass of shut the hell up too!” Stella whined as her uncle set down the pitcher. Ambrose let out a snort while Annika and Finn covered their laughing mouths.
“Stella, it’s water. Do not call it anything but water,” Anthea said in a shrill voice, and turned to her brother with an equally annoyed frown. “Thanks a lot, Talvi. She thinks everything that comes in a glass is that now.”
“I’m sorry Anthea,” he said, trying not to laugh. “I guess I wasn’t thinking when I said it.”
“No, you certainly weren’t,” she replied with the expression of reprimand that only mothers can wear.
“But I want a glass! I want a glass of shut the hell up, Uncle Talvi. You gave the fairy girl one!” Stella sang in her little voice. Ambrose had to turn around, he was laughing so hard. His wife looked less than impressed.
“Stella, stop it,” Anthea scolded. “Do not say that word.”
“But I’m thirsty, Mummy,” she giggled. “I’m thirsty for a glass of sh—”
“Stella!” Anthea cried angrily. “Enough!” Annika didn’t know how she managed to keep herself composed when even Ambrose couldn’t. He eventually faced forward and gave Talvi a very patronizing look before turning around again to surrender to his laughter.
“So, Talvi, what’s the difference between pixies and fairies?” Annika asked, trying to get him out of his predicament. He looked relieved that she remembered.
“The pixies have a habit of showing up uninvited at the most inopportune times and causing a lot of havoc,” he explained, and helped himself to seconds.
“Oh, I get it. You’re afraid they’ll crash your party,” she clarified. Althea gave her youngest son a stern look.
“They better not crash anything or I’ll lock up Ghassan until you’ve repaired all the damage,” she informed him. “I’m certain you remember how your last grand gala ended up.”
“No, I don’t mean crash, like breaking anything,” Annika said quickly. She didn’t want to get Talvi into more trouble. He had enough of a penchant for doing that on his own. “It’s just an expression for showing up without an invitation. Crashing a party, you know, not being invited.”
“Well I don’t see the logic in that slang, but if you say so,” she said dubiously, and filled her water glass herself.
“How many guests are you expecting anyway?” Ambrose asked. The brothers shared a glance, but didn’t look their father in the eye.
“Oh, I tried to keep it conservative. I don’t think I sent out any more than two hundred invitations,” Talvi said offhandedly, scratching his head.
“Ha!” Ambrose let out a whoop. “So you’re probably expecting four hundred then, isn’t that about right? I don’t know why you bother lying when you’re so bad at it!”
“Talvi Anatolius, where exactly do you expect everyone to sleep?” his mother cried, clutching her head as though she were about to have an aneurysm. “You know our guest rooms are already promised out to your cousins and Konstantin, and what about Dragana? She’s far too old to tolerate your rambunctious friends keeping her awake all night!”
“Dragana is coming?” All three siblings asked at the same time. The Marinossian children appeared uncomfortable at the thought of this person showing up, and Annika noticed the fork in Anthea’s hand wobble. Maybe Dragana was a crotchety, mean old woman that the children had feared from an early age.
“Of course she’ll be here for your father’s meeting!” said Althea, and cut a few more bi
te sized pieces of lasagna for her granddaughter. She seemed determined to keep her precocious mouth busy with chewing.
“You will have a room for her,” Ambrose declared, and gave Talvi such a look of warning that even Finn and Anthea seemed concerned for their little brother.
“I didn’t promise anyone a place to sleep other than the fairies,” he said, looking a bit pale. “Most of the guest list is local anyway, Mother. Don’t worry.”
“Four hundred?” she repeated, shaking her head.
“It will be fine, my love,” Ambrose said cheerfully while giving his youngest son another severe look. “I’ll serve you breakfast in bed and you won’t have to come downstairs until he’s done polishing the very last of the silver that was used.”
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