The Golden Key Chronicles

by AJ Nuest

  She bent down to fill a golden chalice from the Pool of Tears and the fabric swung loose from her body. The arc of her breast was momentarily suspended in shadow, the silhouette of a rosy nipple perched atop a snowy mound.

  Helios wept. In all his seasons on earth, he would never get enough of her. Mayhap he should have followed his first instincts and ripped that infuriating garment to shreds. “Henceforth I may insist that whilst we are alone together, you remain in a state of undress.”

  She smirked and lifted the chalice, cupping the base in both palms. Her steps remained slow and even as she returned to his side. “Okay. I might be convinced to stay naked whenever were alone together. But, tell me, my prince. What do you offer in return?”

  The challenge in her voice prompted his smile. Oh, how her fiery temperament ignited an insatiable passion deep within his soul. One that had lain dormant far too long. “Is this how it shall be then, my love? The rest of our days filled with bargain and trade, neither submitting to the will of the other?”

  “Well, think about what you’re asking me.” The shift billowed as she knelt at his waist and placed the chalice on the floor near her thigh. “Winter is just around the corner. If I’m going to chance catching my death in some drafty castle, not to mention risk starvation since it’s entirely possible we may never leave your bed, you’ve gotta give me something in return, don’t you think?”

  Quite right. The woman was a shrewd negotiator; a skill she’d assuredly honed within the court during his absence. He captured a lock of her hair and twirled the silky strands around his finger, feathering the silver tips along his lips. Yet nothing in all his imaginings quite compared to the vision of her, naked in their marriage bed, lips swollen from his kisses and her shapely limbs tangled amid the bedclothes.

  He raised a brow. “I swear by all the goddesses, not one morsel of your skin shall become chilled whilst I am present. As for our appetites, I shall issue a standing order to have three meals per day delivered to our rooms.”

  Her lilting laugh sent desire sparking along his nerve endings. She dipped her hand in the chalice and brought it to his chest. The water droplets seemed comparatively cool against his skin as she dabbed the slight indentation left by the hashishan’s arrow. Another dip of her finger and she traced moisture along the uppermost streak wrought by the swipe of a scimitar.

  He frowned. The magic of the goddess’ tears had already served its purpose, restoring him to full capacity. Had not their vigorous lovemaking proven he was fully healed and fit to forge ahead at her side? “What is this task about, my love? You no longer need to fear my injuries.”

  One of her shoulders neared her ear in a shrug. “Those three days you were asleep, every time I used the water on your scars they became less apparent.” She returned her hand to the chalice and her finger smeared a damp trail along a puckered ridge of skin below his ribcage. “It’s strange because I’ve also noticed I’ve no desire to eat. The water must somehow satisfy our hunger as well.”

  The light skim of her touch was a persuasive invitation far beyond his willpower. He could no more resist tasting her than he could deny himself air. Clasping the base of her neck, he lowered her to his lips and lost himself in the smooth delicacy of her mouth, over and again until a pulse of need lengthened his cock and it tented the blanket covering his legs.

  “What wilst you have?” he breathed against her throat, nibbling the supple skin beneath her ear. A parcel of land, a heavy purse. If she fancied a gown fashioned from moonbeams he would grant her appeal. Anything to ensure she would once again be naked beneath him, their bodies joined in bliss. “I beg you. Name your terms and I shall move heaven and earth to fortify your consent.”

  Her breathy laugh vibrated against his mouth. Warm, delicious, mesmerizing.

  More… He needed more.

  He dotted kisses down her neck, swirled the tip of his tongue inside the shallow dip between her collarbones. Her pulse fluttered beneath his lips. A shudder traversed her body as he eased the thin strap off her shoulder and shifted lower to indulge in the temptations of her breast.

  She sighed and combed her fingers through his hair, clasping the back of his head. “I want us to be equal partners in everything. Make all decisions together, respect one another’s opinions.”

  And rightly so. How easily her intoxicating diversions had waylaid his memory. Her currency didn’t consist of gold coins or glittering jewels. Fancy gowns would not earn her approval. She dealt in deeds, the proof of conviction through action.

  He pressed a smile to the underside of her breast. Silly girl, bartering for things he’d already determined must be foremost in their matrimony. He had no more desire to lord over her than he did to claim a seat on the throne. Indeed, if anything, with each passing glide of his mouth over her skin, the scales of power tipped ever farther in her favor.

  Her fingers clenched and dug into his scalp when he suckled the taut peak of her nipple. “And I want to go after the key.”

  He wrenched back from her, a scowl tightening his brow. No. That petition was perverse beyond measure. “We cannot, Rowena. We must not.” Fear parched his tongue over the dangerous quest she proposed, and he gnashed his teeth. “I will not allow it.”

  She froze. Two heartbeats passed before she returned the strap of her chemise to her shoulder. One of her slender eyebrows rose toward her hairline…and foreboding swirled a sinking vortex in his gut. “I don’t recall asking for permission.”

  He sprang to sitting and clasped her upper arms. “What you suggest is madness. You would have us risk everything by riding straight into the arms of the enemy.”

  Determination sparked and hardened her emerald gaze. She encircled his wrists in her fingers and tugged his hands from her body. “That night I fled the castle? I overheard your conversation with Fandorn. He said a good chance exists that my memories are linked to the key. Stealing it back is my one chance at regaining everything I’ve lost.”

  He dropped his focus to the floor, shaking his head. Goddess’ tits, the woman had not the slightest indication the unstable ground upon which she trod. The future of every soul in the realm hung in the balance of her charging off, chasing some fool’s errand.

  Gaelleod’s lifeless black eyes flashed across the veil of his mind’s eye and Caedmon’s hands instinctively tightened into two hard fists. No. No, no, no. His utmost duty was to guarantee she and the key never reunited. Not in Seviere’s realm. Not so near the chest.

  “Please, Caedmon.” She palmed both his cheeks and lifted his face, biding her words until he met her gaze. His heart lurched when the same grim desperation banding his lungs stared back at him through her tear-filled eyes. “You don’t understand what it’s like. I can’t remember my parents. I don’t know how old I am or my birth date.” She winced and placed three fingertips to her temple. A solitary tear tipped over her lashes and tumbled down her cheek. “I don’t even know my full name.”

  The hardened wall of his resolve cracked. Each time she ventured near the past, she experienced pain. What character of husband would he be to condemn her to such a fate? Denying her the memories of a mother and father she’d grieved not only once, but twice? Abandoning her to a dim lapse where nothing but burning questions haunted her?

  His growl of frustration rumbled off the cave’s walls. Dammit to hell. His only recourse was to confess everything and then pray, by some grand miracle of absurdity, she might see reason.

  He pinched the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes tight. He had hoped to avoid this sorrow. Above all else, he had longed to spare her the gruesome details of this tale. Yet, with her heartfelt petition, she’d left him no choice.

  His hand dropped and he slowly twisted away from her, presenting her the full view of his ruined back. No more censure. No more shying away from their dire circumstances to spare her grief. If she was unwavering in her pursuit, candor was paramount.

  Silence reigned between them. Her anguished sigh wafted across his skin
. Water splashed as she submerged her hand in the chalice. The retort of a barbed whip snapped in his ear when the light touch of her moist finger traced a lash mark he bore from nape to hip. He gritted his teeth, gathering a courage he’d not known existed within him to stay rooted in place.

  “I can’t imagine what they did to you.” A breath hitched in her throat. “I know I can’t, but I understand what you’re trying to do.” Another cool path trailed down the length of his spine. “You’re worried if I breach Seviere’s walls, this same thing might happen to me.”

  He shook his head. She misunderstood. Seviere would never risk torturing her in such a way. Not when the power he sought ran hidden through her veins.

  No, the evil king would secrete her away someplace safe, buried under heavy guard and key. Never again would she encounter Helios’ bright rays. No more would she wander the gloaming of the forest or ride her white steed. If captured, her freedom would be lost, and she would be ripped from his arms forever. “I would suffer the consequences thricefold if necessary. Without hesitation, I would submit to any machinations Galleod inflicted.”

  “What?” The soft skin of her palm pressed his back. “Why? How could you even suggest such a—”

  “Your name is Rowena Analiese Lindstrom.” He lowered his head, eyes closed. “Sorceress of the Veil, and Keeper of the Key.”

  She snatched her hand back. The faint trill of running water sang through the air until the breath he’d trapped in his lungs burned and screamed for release.

  “I need you to speak very plainly.” Though her voice was low, it shook with a terror that boiled near hysteria. “And explain to me everything that you know.”

  He swung around to face her and his stomach plummeted. Two high red spots stained her cheeks. Her fretful hands twisted and worried the folds of her chemise. Half his heart loathed the fright he had placed in her eyes. The other half pounded in relief.

  She should be afraid. If, after he’d recanted, she still determined to follow through with her plan, whatever fear she carried with her would be her best defense.

  “Most of what I believe is supposition. Indeed, no valid proof beyond my—”

  “Caedmon,” she whispered. “Just tell me.”

  Nodding, he licked his dry lips. Perchance to stop her fussing, to dispense the unease between them or mayhap to maintain a physical connection to the present, he wasn’t quite certain why he clasped her hands. Only that an intense need to touch her, one he could not refute, overruled all his reason.

  “Late into my imprisonment, I was paid a visit by Seviere’s Wizard Gaelleod.” He entwined their fingers and pondered the contrast of color, hers like pale flames between the umber pigment of his. Dark separated by light, bare branches of late autumn banded by snow. “Gaelleod’s attendance during my punishments was not a rarity. In truth, his thirst for bloodlust often ensured a watchful eye over the many influential talents employed by his priests.”

  Agitation tightened his shoulders and he rolled the joints to relieve the ghostly ache. How long had he dangled from those wicked manacles, muscles stretched to the limits of their capacity, mingled beads of blood and sweat dripping from his brow? His back molars ground together as the phantom screams of his own voice reverberated inside his skull. “Compounding his delight in their ingenious methods to extract information, was Gaelleod’s belief I maintained the secret to the enigma which is the key.”

  His eyes followed when she lifted his hand and pressed a fierce kiss to its back. He smiled ruefully into her shimmering gaze, submersing himself in sea of verdant love. “Wizard Gaelleod is the worst kind of depravity, my lady. Born of an age long spent, he claims knowledge of prophecy which reaches far beyond the seasons of most men. For me to have achieved such a prize, he knew our time together had been fruitful. A sorceress would neither cross the veil nor gift me the key elsewise.”

  She lowered her gaze, lashes dark and laden with tears. Keeping their hands clasped, he applied the tip of his finger to her chin and lifted until he could kiss the salty dew from her cheeks. Assuredly, these would not be the last of her tears, yet if she was to formulate a clear verdict, she must be privy to everything he’d learned. “Over several generations, Gaelleod has used the influence and wealth of the Seviere reign to gather not just one mystical chest, but many. A purpose both grotesque and unwavering guided his course and, upon the Gleaning, he believed success was near at hand.

  “The key opened them all, yet not one contained the otherworldly wisdom of which prophecy foretold. All, excluding the most recent chest which has come into his possession. This chest the key would not unlock. So he set about breaking me, sparing no enthusiasm to glean answers to a mystery I did not hold.”

  A sob broke from her throat and she untangled their fingers to cup his cheek. “I’m sorry.” Though her lips formed the words, no sound emerged.

  He held her hand to his face, turned his head and kissed the center, lowered it and swept his thumb over the etchings in her palm—a fleeting moment to center his thoughts before the rest of his story was conveyed.

  He raised his eyes and locked his gaze onto hers. “That is, until the bastard made a fateful err in my favor.”

  The blood drained from her face. Her fingers tightened around his.

  “On the day of Gaelleod’s final visit, he brought with him the key. A curious circumstance, to be sure, since I’d last seen it on the day of my arrest, yet one I did not find surprising. After so long under his tutelage, I’d learned not much went the way of unusual behavior where he was concerned. The entirety of Selene’s phase would sometimes pass during which he would be cordial, pleasant even, plying me with food and drink, conversing with me as if we were close friends. These respites were typically followed by days of beatings without end.

  “I recognized his technique, the constant deviation to keep me off guard. So when he approached with the key and thrust it before my face, I was neither unsettled nor dismayed…merely puzzled.”

  Red firelight stoked by the dungeon’s bellows had winked off the surface, the key twirling a dizzying spiral in the air. Not until the movement ceased, had the vile wizard leaned close, his breath a rancid mixture of foul deeds and decay.

  “He pointed to the stamped lettering on the side and demanded I tell him the significance behind the symbols, if they represented an incantation or specific rite of ceremony.” In his mind’s eye, the key remained centered, his lady’s initials so brightly blazing, Caedmon nearly reached out to ensnare the golden treasure in his hand.

  “R…A…L…” he whispered. “Rowena Analiese Lindstrom.”

  Pressure on his thighs jerked him back to the present and he cradled his white dove as she climbed onto his lap. She wrapped her arms around his chest, the crown of her head fitted snug and warm under his chin. A shuddering breath wracked her body and he tightened his arms to stem the tide of her trembling. “I understood then the reason behind his frustrations. Gaelleod had indeed finally located the rightful chest. But only one among us holds the power to wield the key. A beautiful white sorceress whose memories had been stolen so that not even she recognizes the profound influence she retains.”

  A sardonic chuckle soured Caedmon’s throat. “The irony tainting Gaelleod’s dilemma was so preposterous, I laughed. I stared directly into the black eyes of the worst adversary I’d ever faced and hooted as if I’d gone quite mad.” He smoothed his hand down the cascade of her silver hair. “And perhaps I had.”

  Though his lapse in judgment was not one he would soon forget. Nor would he ever fail to recall the sweet stench of burning flesh, the blind agony which blotted out all his rationale. “Gaelleod took it upon himself to instruct me firsthand in the ways of confession that day. My amusement over his failure propelled him to heights of madness I do not wish to relate. Suffice to say only one thing prevented my death. My mind held the answer to his plight.”

  He withdrew from his lady and secured the edge of her chin between his thumb and forefinger. “
You, Rowena. You are the answer. The missing piece to why the chest refused to open.”

  She squeezed her eyes tight, her falling tears more beautiful than those of the nine. “I’ve been a curse, haven’t I? Since the day we met, I’ve brought you nothing but heartache and pain.”

  The entire breath of his being roared in denial and he guided her forehead down to his. “You are my blessing. My heart and savior. And I would gladly face the corruption of Gaelleod’s evil wizardry to safeguard you from harm. But we cannot ride for the key. Do you not see? To do so would be an error of imminent destruction.”

  She flung her arms around his neck and showered his face with kisses. Over and again until the nightmare of his imprisonment faded. A ray of hope chased his sorrow into shadow, though his deliverance would not be complete until her vow of consent sanctified his ear.

  “Swear to me now. Promise me you will never partake of such a perilous task.”

  Her kisses gradually slowed, the last coming to rest in the center of his brow. “I can’t do that, Caedmon.”

  He seized her hips to press her away, but she tightened her hold on his neck, keeping them linked. Body to body, chest to chest.

  Her deep inhalation was weighted with sadness, resignation and, most prominently, her steadfast resolve. “Now more than ever, I’m convinced my going after the key is the right thing to do. I came through the veil for a reason. My initials are stamped on the key for a reason. The chest is mine to open for a reason. I can’t ignore that. I just can’t.” She leaned away from him and clenched his shoulders, her fingertips digging into his skin. “For whatever purpose, I’m a part of this…this whole big puzzle. To snub my nose at such an important responsibility is wrong. To leave all these questions unanswered is unacceptable. You know that as well as I do.”

  She urged his cheek to her chest, her hand holding his head in place, fingers tangled in his hair. “If you can’t go with me, I completely understand. But as soon as I have my weapons restocked, I ride for the realm of Seviere.”