His lips pressed together thoughtfully. Perhaps he should have thought to learn something of them. Then at least he would not have felt so ill prepared at her announcement.
“What did you have in mind?”
Agatha smiled around the rim of her goblet as she took a sip.
“Do you have a wide enough balcony with a clear view of the stars? I imagine they’re spectacular here. We might even see the aurora borealis.”
“You wish to stand outside… in the cold?” he asked flatly.
That hardly sounded like something that would be entertaining, and he worried that she would get cold standing on the balcony. He thought human winter amusements were typically carried out indoors.
“Well, with the late hour, I think it would be a wonderful conclusion to our evening. Don’t you?” she asked.
“Very well,” he agreed reluctantly. “But only if you wrap yourself in many furs.”
That was how he found himself standing out on the balcony with Agatha a short time later. As agreed, she had two large furs wrapped completely around her. She had tilted her head up to stare in wonder at the stars above them, and all his objections fell away as he watched the starlight bathe her face.
“This is amazing,” she whispered in awe as she leaned so far back that she was nearly teetering. “With the minimal light pollution, the nights where I am are impressive, but nothing like this.”
He drew up behind her so that his body stabilized hers, and she leaned into his chest. A startled gasp left her, but she did not draw away. Instead, she turned her head more until she met his eyes. Her body relaxed against him, and satisfaction rose within him.
“You wish to see something even more spectacular? I can give you a view that I guarantee is unlike anything anyone else has ever seen,” he murmured. “Do you trust me?”
She cocked her head and eyed him for an unbearably long moment before she responded. “Yes, I do believe that I do trust you. I’m not sure why… but I feel it. I want you to show me.”
He leaned down closer until his breath fanned her cheek and he was low enough for her to twine her arms around his neck. His arms wrapped around her waist, slowly turning her in his embrace.
“Then hold tight to me,” he rasped, all too aware of the way his body tightened and his cock surged in response to her touch.
She shivered but complied, arms looping around his neck tightly so that when he fully straightened, she was pressed intimately against his chest. As he held her like that, chest to chest, he felt a burning spark in the region of his heart and nearly dropped her. That heat did not dissipate, however, as he continued to hold her, and his arms tightened in response to the joy that flooded through him. Her small nose nuzzled the crook of his neck, and he was almost undone by that simple, affectionate gesture.
“Be sure to keep your eyes on the sky,” he murmured.
Agatha’s head immediately drew back, turning so that it was in profile as she looked at the heavens. Satisfied that she was well-prepared, Aquilo’s wings slipped from beneath his cloak and spread wide around them. Before she guessed his intention, he took several quick steps toward the balcony’s edge and leaped into the air, his massive wings catching on a current of air.
Her startled shriek was gratifyingly short. Even still she panted in a frightened manner for a time as he soared higher into the skies. It was not until he broke over the highest peak of his mountain that her breath caught in wonder and her tension slipped away, despite the fierce way that she hugged him to her. He felt a grin pulling at his lips, but he did not bother to analyze the uncharacteristic expression. He was showing her something special, a sight that not even he ever tired of.
Stretched out before them was a starfield threaded with the dancing bands of the aurora borealis in a symphony of lights. Further north, where the lights turned gold and silver, the stars brightened above a golden land of eternal spring. Even though it was night there as well, the faint shimmer of gold still could be seen despite the distance as the stars appeared to dance and move on their own volition.
Flapping his wings, Aquilo soared as near as he dared, not wishing to incur the anger of the god nor to leave his own mountain for long. But they got close enough where the temples and marble buildings could be easily seen, and the huge flocks of swans settled at the coastal edge nearest to them. Ribboned pavilions set up for some entertainment or another were visible, as was the heavily bound winter harvest that was undertaken every year before the Hyperborean Lord departed. The flicker of movement at his side pulled at his awareness but did not disturb either of them as Veli soared at their right. Naturally, the griffin would have been curious enough to follow them. Agatha only gave the creature a brief look, a soft chuckle escaping her as Veli wheeled through the sky.
“Showoff,” Aquilo muttered affectionately at the beast.
“I can’t believe what I’m seeing. This can’t be possible,” Agatha sighed in wonder. “What is this place?”
“That is Hyperborea, the blessed, immortal garden of Apollo,” he whispered into her hair.
To his delight, she leaned more comfortably into his arms and tucked her head beneath his chin as she continued to watch the passing starscape as he flew. He did not want the moment to end, although his cock was stiff and aching with her pressed so near; he wanted her in his arms. She felt like she belonged there. So, he delayed returning to his fortress until he felt her breath even out against his skin as slumber claimed her. Only then did he return her to her room and slip her small body into bed.
As he pulled the blanket over her, her eyes fluttered open, and she gave him a sweet smile that he felt even to the deepest, most hidden part of himself.
“Thank you,” she whispered before sleep claimed her once more.
He missed her warmth when he left her room, but he felt something new within him… Hope and anticipation for the next day.
That was very new.
A happy sound greeted his ears that sounded almost like an eerie croon. He jerked to a stop in surprise before he realized that the sound was coming… from him. He placed his hand over his chest where he could feel the vibration of the song echoing, and he turned to glance back at her door. A bright flash of light spilled out from beneath the door, and his mouth parted in alarm.
Shouting out her name, he barreled into the room and threw back the blankets only to discover the bed empty.
Agatha was gone.
His roar of rage blasted through his fortress as the winds howled fiercely around his mountain in a manifestation of his fury.
“Agatha!” he bellowed.
Chapter 7
A cry left Agatha’s lips as the match in her fingers burned down to its end and snuffed out before it crumbled and fell to ashes in the snow at her feet.
No. No. No. It couldn’t be—!
She ran her hands down her worn dress and over her knotted hair and wanted to scream out her disappointment. Instead, she shrieked the first word that popped into her mind.
“Shit!”
People on the street stopped, heads turning toward her with surprise. One of the men peeled away from his group of companions and approached hesitantly.
“Are you okay? Did you lose something?” he asked, eyes following the movement of her hands that were still absently fussing with her clothing.
Agatha shook her head, eyes stinging as she forced her hands into the pockets of her shabby coat. The fingers of her right hand closed around a box. “I… I’m fine. It’s just a little cold out here,” she mumbled. She gave him a shaky smile. “I think I just needed to vent some of the stress, maybe piss myself off enough to achieve a level of warmth.”
A smile creased his cheeks, and he chuckled. “I can only imagine. It’s freezing out here. No shame in cussing this snow to hell and back.”
One of his friends called out to him, and he looked over at them and gestured that he would be a moment. He ran a hand through his short-cropped brown hair, and his eyes fell on the matches i
n the basket at her feet. His smile immediately grew wider at the sight.
“Ah, clearly we were meant to meet. My wife asked me to bring home a couple boxes of matches with the storm moving in. Good thing your scream brought me over here.” He chuckled as he handed over a few coppers.
Agatha felt numb as she accepted them, her mind recoiling from the exchange as she watched him pluck out two boxes of matches and jog away to reunite with his friends. It didn’t feel real to her. It felt like illusion separating her from her reality. Her time on the mountain with Aquilo had to be real.
Didn’t it?
She frowned, her mind a mess trying to disentangle fantasy from reality. Was she in her bed at the dismal fortress, dreaming of being in the snow in Garden Tower, or was Aquilo the dream? She felt an odd pang at the thought of him being nothing more than a figment of her imagination. He was surly, as cold and distant as his fortress, and yet the way he had held her against him as he flew with her roused something within her that was more than just sexual interest.
She shook her head. Flying, the magic of seeing Hyperborea in the distance, and the fact that he had said he was a god… None of that gave him points for being real.
Slowly, she withdrew the golden box of matches and turned them around in her hands. She could always light another and see what happens. But if she did and it wasn’t real, she would be wasting time better spent trying to make sales.
She licked her lips with uncertainty. She hated not knowing what to do. It was a condition that plagued her ever since the ravening, obliterating her once solid self-confidence. Blinking the falling snowflakes from her eyes, she glanced up and frowned at the sight of a familiar golden-haired man standing at the opposite side of the street. She only caught a glimpse between the milling people and snow, but he was there as plain as the nose on her face. He smiled and nodded before her vision was obscured by another small group of people rushing by. When they moved, he was gone.
Whipping her head from side to side, she searched the street for the flash of his golden hair. It was like he had completely disappeared. Her fingers clutched tighter around the box, drawing her attention back to it and the golden patterns on the box. Was it her imagination, or did they look slightly faded?
Drawing back the lid, she looked down at the four remaining matches clustered within each with their distinctive gold heads. It was just as she remembered them to be. Would they return to her to the warmth and comfort of her room? She wondered what delicacy the ogress, Eltha, would prepare for breakfast.
She lifted out a match and let out her breath as she struck it. As before, the golden flame flared bright until it whited out the world around her with its light.
Agatha stretched, her mouth opening in a wide yawn as she rolled over beneath the heavy blankets on the bed. Her fingers curled into her pillow, and she smiled into the soft fabric covering it. She was certain she hadn’t slept so well in years, despite the sting of cold touching her cheeks and nose.
She wanted to slip deeper into the covers and burrow down into the warmth. She could feel the blankets sliding over her bare skin. She didn’t remember getting undressed for bed, but it was normal for her to sleep naked, so she merely mumbled contently. The bed was so comfortable that she could easily just sleep the whole winter away without a care if it weren’t for the fact that her stomach was being an uncooperative beast, demanding to be fed.
Mumbling to herself and letting out a groan, she pushed back the covers, a shiver racing over her as the cold air hit her. She blinked against the morning light streaming through the window, aiming an annoyed look at the banked coals in the hearth.
No wonder it was cold.
Shoving the heavy curtain of hair out of her eyes, Agatha sat up and rubbed a hand over the bridge of her nose and under one eye as a yawn escaped her. Her eyes drifted over the room and stopped on the large man seated in a chair by the bed. Aquilo’s frame took up most of the seat, even with his wings folded tightly behind him, and his head fell back against the chair, highlighting the strong profile of his face.
As if sensing her eyes on him, he returned to wherever his consciousness had gone, since she doubted that, like food, he actually required the physical activity of sleep. The laser bright glow of his large blue eyes focused on her, and the chair creaked as he sat up and leaned toward her.
Thick black brows descended in a fierce scowl directed at her.
“Where did you go?” he demanded in a low snarl that made her awareness of him burn.
Despite her instinctive reaction, she glared right back at him. “What are you talking about? Clearly I was sleeping right here.”
“You were not,” he barked as he rose to his feet, the sudden surge of his body and the snap of his wings startling in their intensity. “I left here and had not taken more than a handful of steps before a bright light took you away. I have remained here waiting in case you returned, but I assure you that you were not here.”
A light?
She shifted uncomfortably. Was it possible? She had been so sure it was a dream. For a moment, she had been back on that cold street corner with her matches. The golden-haired man had smiled at her and nodded. She had known what to do. She had struck the match… and awoke in the fortress.
A gasp escaped her, breath shuddering. How was it even possible? She hadn’t been gone for long, and yet it felt like she had passed hours on the mountain. Her teeth sank into her bottom lip. Did that mean she would return to Garden Tower again? Gods, she hoped not.
“Well?” Aquilo asked impatiently, drawing her attention right back to him.
“I don’t know,” she muttered, combing the fingers of one hand through her hair. “I really don’t understand how any of this is happening. Are you certain that I was gone and not just…”
“You were gone,” he interrupted. “The bed where I left you was completely empty.”
She drew up her knees and threaded her fingers together around them, pulling them close to her chest.
“I don’t know. I think I returned to Garden Tower, but it was like I never left… and now I’m here. I don’t understand how this possible.”
His nostrils flared, and the icy blast of his temper filled the room as his wings snapped half-open. “I forbid you to do that again,” he bit out with a fierce growl. “You will not leave the fortress to return to that life.”
“Hey now, wait one damn minute,” she protested. “It’s not like I did it on purpose. Trust me, there’s little to recommend Garden Tower over this place. Here I am, warm, well-fed, and treated kindly. I would be stupid to go back, if I even knew how.”
His wings relaxed, and he gave her a considering look. “I see. This is disturbing, as none should be able to enter my fortress without my knowledge, much less be able to take you from your bed. That it is happening displeases me,” he grumbled.
He sighed and dipped his head for a moment, his gaze focusing on her so intently that she could feel it pierce her innermost depths. She thought that, given enough time, he would be able to see right through her and know everything about her. The thought was both exhilarating and frightening.
He took her hand in his, and his eyes studied her knuckles as he caressed his thumb over them. Slowly, he dropped his head farther and raised her hand until his lips brushed against the back of it. Despite the blue-white of his skin, she could feel the intense heat of his reddened lips and shivered. His eyes skimmed down to where the blanket was still clutched to her very bare chest, and he stilled. A low growl escaped him that she felt shoot straight down through her core before he reluctantly released her hand and stepped away.
“I will leave you to dress, but I won’t be far. Go down the first flight of stairs and take the hall to your left. You will find me in my study. I suspect you will find it more comfortable than the throne room. I will have Eltha bring the morning meal there. I have no doubt she already has it prepared and is keeping it warm for us.”
His eyes caressed her one final time before
he turned on his heel. His folded wings, barely visible from where they peeked out through the slits of his cloak, rustled softly as he strode away and left the room. As the door closed behind him, a sudden giddiness stole over her, and she grinned.
Agatha turned to the wardrobe, eager to explore the contents. Someone else had put everything away while she had been occupied with Aquilo yesterday, and she was eager to explore the rest of the clothes provided for her. She didn’t get more than a few steps toward it when a heavy knock rattled her door moments before Eltha stepped in, carrying bundles of fabric. The ogress’s face lit up at the sight of Agatha.
The female’s tusked smile was far more terrifying than Opis’s dour snarls and growls. Despite the blunt, human-like incisors, the first four teeth were flanked by sharp fangs and two smaller tusks that protruded up from her lower jaw. Smaller compared to Opis’s tusks, anyway. Eltha’s grin was almost unnaturally wide, which made Agatha think of the monsters of childhood fairytales. The ogre waiting to eat whatever was within easy reach.
Even as she stood stock still, Agatha reminded herself that Eltha wasn’t going to murder her… She hoped. Assuming what Opis claimed was true, since she hadn’t yet had the opportunity to meet the ogress.
Other than the horrifying smile, the ogress didn’t look like a monster. Indeed, she was wearing a long tunic with an apron pinned over it, her dark hair bound in a pair of braids at either side of her head with the remaining length confined in one large braid that fell nearly to the floor. Perfect nublike horns pushed up from a face that was more the color of a half-ripe acorn than the boggy green of Opis’s features. Eltha was far more elegant and friendly than her mate, which made it easier for Agatha to resist bolting at the ogress’s smile. Besides, she carried a steaming pitcher, and no one who brought means for washing could be all that bad.
Matchsticks: A Dark Spirits Fairytale Page 5