Spark and Sorrow

by Rachel A. Marks

  “I’m beginning to understand this,” he mutters, surprising me, my glamour obviously not holding. He’s half asleep as he adds, “Still, I’m a prisoner to you. I must remain at your side.” And then he’s drifting off, his breath slowing, muscles relaxing.

  I watch him for a while, my gaze trailing over him in his vulnerability, wondering what to do with him. His bare chest is pale in the moonlight, the lines of his masculine form strangely captivating. He has a cluster of scars at his side, and lower back that intrigue me. His defined jawline, the tilt of his neck, the strength in his shoulders . . . what would it feel like to trace the curve of the muscle, my finger trailing across his skin . . .

  My body warms at the thought, the air growing heavy. I should go, leave him here where it’s safe and slip away to find the doorway and disappear into it before he can follow. It would be better for him. Better for us both. I’ll just take a moment, just a few minutes of rest before I slip away.

  I sink into the fallen leaves and clover as my eyes close, my curiosity, my hunger, following me into dream.

  *

  I am surrounded by winter, alone in a wide valley, standing at the center of a frozen lake. Beneath my bare feet the ice creaks and groans. Around me loom mountains, heavy with snow, trees like dark sentinels, rimming the peaks. The icy sounds of geimhreadh, of the earth slumbering in its blanket of white, fills my head, the voice of frost whispering through it all like a song.

  Something moves in the distance, on the horizon. A silver shadow approaches.

  It takes the shape of a raven, formed of smoke and ashes. A spirit, calling for me. I know it instantly. The flapping of approaching wings like the voice of an old friend.

  It is darkness. It is power. Wide as the great sea, high as the stars.

  Closer, closer it comes, seeking me out.

  To claim me.

  A part of me knows that I should be terrified. I should turn and flee from this shadow, from its sharp claws. But I cannot move. Instead I stand firm, watching its flight.

  It comes for me.

  It longs for me.

  And soon it will hold me as its own.

  My heart warms at the idea. Longing fills my chest.

  The darkness comes. I will be his. And I can think of nothing more lovely . . .

  *

  I wake on a gasp, my muscles clenched, fingers digging into the clover.

  Light pulses for a moment, blurring my vision, and I realize I’ve manifested as I watch the glow of my fire sink back into my skin. Gold flecks are left behind to flicker in the darkness.

  “Christ save me,” comes a panicked voice from the shadows. The prince. He’s standing several feet away, eyes wide and white in the moonlight.

  A dream. It was only a dream.

  But it must’ve been very real to my spirit if it caused me to manifest. It only sparks without my permission when it feels threatened. “It’s all right,” I say, more for myself. My power thrums in my skin, still warm, still hungry. I breathe in slowly, gathering my control, focusing on pulling my energy back. “It’s all right,” I repeat.

  “What sort of bloody madness is this?” the prince says, breathless, his fear like the scent of rain in the air.

  “Just a dream,” I mutter again.

  “I’m fully awake. Your hands and arms were made of fire, woman. You’re lying in a bed of embers right now, like some dragon in a tale.”

  “I won’t harm you,” I say. “I had a dream, that’s all. I have control.” It terrifies me that my grip on the fire slipped, even for a moment—yet again. I’ve singed my sleeves and left several burn holes in my dress. It must’ve been the dream. A dream of snow, of a creature coming for my soul. My spirit must’ve felt it was real, that danger was truly close.

  Even though, in the dream, my longing was so strong . . .

  After several minutes of silence, he says quietly, “You were crying out.”

  This makes me pause. “I was?”

  “You said something very odd.”

  I look over to him, the cold of the night settling on my skin now. Did I speak the truth when I was unguarded? “What did I say?”

  “ ‘Athan,’ ” he says. “Is it a name? ‘My heart,’ you said. ‘Athan, my heart.’ ”

  Very strange.

  “It could be a name,” he adds, obviously concerned with the meaning.

  I shake my head. “I know no one named Athan.”

  “In the old Greek it means immortal. An immortal king.”

  My pulse stutters, his words shivering through me. The beating of raven wings rises in my memory. There is only one king I know of that goes by such a title. And he is beyond immortal. Beyond powerful. But he’s a stranger to me, far from here, a distant power. I can only shake my head again at the idea.

  “You must explain this to me, Lily,” the prince says, his calm returning. He moves cautiously to sit across from me. “One moment you seem an unearthly creature, and the next you look as you do now, a lost waif, alone and full of fear and trepidation.”

  “Perhaps I’m both.”

  “Do you intend to destroy me?” he asks, bluntly.

  My eyes snap to his. “No, Julius. I could never . . .” I swallow, recalling the charred remains of the guard. “I’ll never harm you, Julius. I swear this.”

  He nods, appearing to only half believe me. “I’m tied to you for a reason. If you’re unaware of how, we should find out why. I must be free of this, Lily.”

  “I understand.” I understand all too well.

  “A sensible man would run from such a thing as you,” he says. “I have no will for it. Even now, all that consumes me is concern that you’re in danger. Even as you nearly burn the forest down around us.” He shakes his head, as if realizing something. “What foolishness. This is how you started the fire at the keep. You used this witchery, didn’t you? Even after everything I did to help you.”

  “I didn’t mean to,” I say defensively. “It was an accident.” Was it though? I could have run, could have left when the torque fell, when the guard released me. Instead I let my rage envelope me. I let it take over. And my power with it. I reached out and reveled in it.

  “You killed one of my best warriors,” he says, not accepting my excuse.

  “Your warrior attacked me. He pressed his will on me and—” I choke on the words as the memory of his fist gripping my hair rises. I won’t be subjugated by any man, certainly not a human.

  Silence fills the space between us for a moment. “Forgive me,” he says, stunned. “I’d have cut his balls off if I’d been present, damn his eternal soul. If I’d seen anyone harm you—” He shakes his head, struggling. “Still, I don’t know how to reconcile what you nearly did. You could have killed us all, destroyed everything.”

  “I simply wanted to go home,” I say.

  He stares thoughtfully into the trees beyond. “Very well. We will begin tomorrow. At first light.”

  I’ve missed my chance to escape him, it seems. He’s determined to remain my protector. There’s nothing for it but to just allow him to follow. Perhaps Lailoken will have a spell to fog his memories of all this, break this goblin trickery.

  “We’ll return to the king’s road,” he says, interrupting my thoughts, “it’s much safer. We have far to go.”

  “I must remain within the trees.”

  He gives me a look as if I were a foolish girl. “Perhaps you don’t understand, the journey north is too treacherous through the woodland.”

  “Perhaps you don’t understand.” Even knowing what I’m capable of, he insists that I’m a weakling. “What I seek is deeper into the woods.”

  He frowns in confusion.

  “I won’t be following you, Julius. If you insist on this link between us, you’ll be following me. And I am going by way of the trees.

  His jaw works as he studies me. He finally says, “This is unfamiliar land. I’ve never been so far into these woods, and I’m fairly sure things won’t go well if you insi
st on going deeper. This is a cursed place. It’s been forbidden to roam here since my ancestors arrived from Rome. We’ve kept away for more than a century. It isn’t safe.”

  His ancestors must’ve been frightened off by some sort of fae trickery. Or they knew full well what resided deep in these trees . . .

  From what the goblins said, this prince’s bloodline had some sort of bargain with them. And obviously, whatever it was, it’s been broken. He’s likely wise to resist going deeper into these lands.

  “I have no such worry,” I say. “I’ll remain in the trees. You do as you must.”

  “No,” he insists, annoyed. “It’s not safe.”

  “Then go home,” I snap.

  “If only!” He throws up his hands. “If I could, I’d have said good riddance to you hours ago, woman.”

  “Good riddance, then! Brute of a man.”

  “Blast it all,” he groans. “Just release me!”

  “You think I wished for this?”

  He steps closer. “I think you’re some kind of witch or demon or wicked creature of fire sent to torment me with your beauty—look at you!” His hand waves up my body.

  I release shocked laughter. “You’re such a fool.” I meet his glare. “I only crossed your path to begin with because of your destructive nature, hunting that beautiful buck in the sacred glade. You nearly killed me in your reckless hunger for blood. You humans, I despise you. Despise your brittle souls, your hallow spirits. Your weakness, your ignorance. I wish to be free of you even more than you wish to be free of me, trust in that. All my life I’ve been chained by human laws, never free to simply be true to myself. Always trapped. Always manipulated. Your kind should be uprooted from this terra and tossed into the sea.”

  The force of my frustration rises, and I allow my fire to rise with it. The warmth of the flame licks gently at my fingers. It’s fully in my control, but he needs to see again. Since he doesn’t seem to understand.

  His gaze snaps to my hands, features shifting as he steps back.

  “Don’t assume to master me,” I say, darkly. “I’m not some simple maid you stumbled over. I am not weak. And I’m not yours to watch over. If anyone here needs protection it’s you, little prince.”

  I give him a moment to soak in my words. And then I turn away, done with the whole business.

  His reluctant footsteps soon follow.

  *

  The night is thick around us as we move through the woods, but I’m undaunted. There’s been enough time wasted on ignorance.

  The sounds of small creatures rustle in the underbrush, startled by my insistent movements through the ferns. The thin trail I began on quickly blended into limbs and leaves and now I’m simply moving forwards on instinct. No fae-lights lift to guide me as I hoped they would. But there is a hum in the earth that seems to beckon me.

  I can’t doubt myself. I can’t pause to consider which way—the hound of a prince is trailing close behind.

  God’s bones, I’m cursed.

  It’s my punishment for intervening in his fate. I should’ve let the goblins have him. I shouldn’t care. I am Other. He’s human. No one to me.

  It doesn’t matter that my pulse quickened at his wicked smile, that my heart warmed at the obvious care he has for his sister, or when he spoke as if he truly cared for me, for my wellbeing. Now I know it was this curse tying him to me that caused him to feel connected, to look at me with openness instead of fear like everyone else. The softening I’ve felt towards him means nothing.

  He’s nothing. Only a distraction.

  Soon the darkness begins to lift as morning cuts through the shadows, revealing our surroundings more clearly. The trees grow denser as we move deeper into the wood, the underbrush more insistent, the life more present. The colors in the trees brighten, orange mushrooms blossoming along the sides of the trunks, violet buds peeking from the roots, white moths spreading their wings on rich bark to catch the warmth filling the air. This is where I belong. The land of my elders. Fae and deity, side-by-side. The feel of the energy is strong in the air, its vitality pulsing against my skin, drowning out the feel of the human looming behind me.

  I breathe in the beauty with each step. The crisp chill of morning fills my lungs. This is freedom.

  Heaven.

  “You do realize we’re not walking north.”

  My jaw tightens at the sound of his voice, the soft thrum of magic under my feet sinking away. My annoyance rises to replace it.

  “Or anywhere directly,” he mutters. He sighs heavily, then continues. “You have an odd sense of direction. Aimless, really.”

  I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to block out his chattering. Goddess, save me.

  “I think we may be walking in circles at this point,” he complains. “I’m surprised we haven’t met ourselves coming and going with all these trees looking the same and you not paying attention in the slightest to any of the signs of—”

  I turn on him. “Enough!”

  He jerks to the side and nearly falls into a fern attempting not to stumble into me.

  “I know precisely where I’m going,” I lie.

  He regains his footing and brushes at his pants. “As you say. Lead on, then. If you can.”

  I rest my hands on my hips and dare him to keep poking at me. “I will. If you’d stop harping at me like a fishwife.”

  He glares at me. “Pardon me. My Queen.”

  I return his scowl. “Precisely.”

  “Let us wander into the abyss, then.” He gives me a mocking bow. “I am at your service.”

  I growl, my fingers curling into fists. “You are the most insufferable, filthy, scruffy, manipulative, preening—”

  He straightens, offended. “I am not scruffy!”

  “The scruffiest prince I’ve ever seen, you with your noble blood, you can’t even save yourself from a couple little nixies.”

  His head pulls back. “Are you seriously insulting my ability to—wait. A couple what? Nixies? What’re—?”

  I slap my hand over his mouth. “Hush!” I search the trees, kicking myself at my mistake. I always let my temper run away with my sense. “Don’t say that,” I whisper.

  His breath brushes against my palm. “Say what?” His brow goes up.

  I lower my hand. “Any of it. They’ll hear you.”

  He looks around cautious now. “Who’s they?”

  I pull his collar down a little, gently brushing my finger along one of the wounds on his upper chest, hoping he’ll grasp my meaning: Don’t speak of the nixies.

  He goes still and nods slowly. “I understand, but . . .” He searches my face, seeming to consider what to say. “Very well,” he finally concedes, “we’ll do this your way.”

  My skin warms, and I realize my fingers are still resting on his chest. I lower my hand. But my energy is calm. I felt no hunger—my power didn’t even reach out to him with our touch. It seems to trust him.

  “Thank you,” I say.

  His eyes search mine as if he’s attempting to understand me. “I want to help you, truly. You’re the oddest creature I’ve ever met. Though, most certainly the bravest.”

  I swallow. When he looks at me like that . . . I have to remind myself of the truth. “You’re forced into helping me, into liking me. You’re cursed.” As am I.

  He frowns. “Yes, I followed you here because I had to. But you should know, when I finally kiss you—which I’ve been considering since you opened those golden eyes in the woods all those days ago—that kiss will be given because I wish to give it.”

  My pulse stutters. “Kiss me?” He’s been barking orders at me and nagging me for hours, how could he be thinking such things about me?

  His mouth tips in his wicked grin. “Does the idea please you?” he asks.

  “No,” I say quickly.

  “Then why do your cheeks turn pink?”

  I have no clever response. I can only shake my head.

  His wit fades and something softer fills his gaze.
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  I force myself not to look away, trying to understand him. Why does he tease me? And why, for the love of Danu, do I let him get under my skin and unsettle me? Back at the keep he was kind and I allowed myself to become to unguarded with him. Still, he’s infuriating me one moment, setting my teeth on edge the next, and now he’s making my mind go fuzzy.

  He motions to the path. “Lead on, my lady.”

  I hesitate, chewing on my lip. I don’t wish for him to hold all the cards or think he’s winning me over. I must stay strong and retain the higher ground. He’ll need to listen to me as we get deeper into the woods. “I want nothing from you,” I say. “Do not assume I’m going to allow myself to be tricked by you. I am not ignorant.”

  “Of course not,” he says, then adds gently. “Only innocent. And beautiful.”

  “Stop.”

  “Why? It’s only the truth. Here in this place, among the vibrant light, the life, you are more magnificent than anything I’ve ever seen.”

  My chest tightens as his words settle over me. Why must he say such things when I’m trying to remain upset and distant from him?

  “It’s also true that you infuriate me,” he adds, tilting his head. “But I know that I’m not the easiest beast to deal with either—at least according to my sister.”

  “You push too much,” I say.

  “I do. When I know what I want.”

  “If you think you’re going to lord over me, Julius, you won’t. Not me. Never.”

  He steps closer, undaunted by my words. “I don’t wish to lord over you, Lily. I simply wish to know you.”

  I step back with a growl of frustration. Why doesn’t he listen? “We need to keep walking,” I say. Then I turn away and continue along the thin path, biting my lips together to keep from saying anything else to feed his teasing.