Shadow's Light

by Nicola Claire

  “Elska,” he said sharply. “What are you doing on the floor?”

  The sound of his booted feet on the floor as he stalked closer sent shock waves of heat through my body. Every vibration through the stone shot straight through my skin. I moaned even before he touched me and then when his hot hands went around my waist to pick me up, I cried out. A mixture of hunger, need and pain so raw.

  Lutin hissed as he cradled me to his chest and carried me to the bed. By now tears were streaming down my cheeks and I was unable to control my limbs. I wanted to pull him towards me, I wanted his body to smother mine. Irrationally the thought that that would soothe the sensations coursing over my skin seemed forefront in my mind. Even though his light touch as he lay me down on the bed only fuelled the flames further out of control and felt more like whips than delicate fingers.

  “Lutin,” I pleaded, unsure just what exactly I was pleading for.

  “This shouldn't be happening,” he said, his voice sounding so far away. And then he reached out and ran a hand down over my stomach softly.

  I'm sure he meant to soothe, but I screamed out in pain and then followed that up with a frustrated growl.

  He sucked in a breath and then tentatively tried again. This time he leaned over my body and laid his lips against mine. I writhed and bucked beneath him, tears making it hard to see the startled expression on his face and then I leaned over the side of the bed and tried to vomit. I hadn't eaten for hours, so there was nothing to come up. But that didn't stop my stomach from contracting and trying to expel my internal organs as much as it could.

  Lutin swore and ran to the bathroom, returning with a bowl of warm water and a clean wash cloth.

  “I am sorry, elska, this is going to be painful, but it must be wiped off.” His voice was low and rough, like sandpaper over stone. He was feeling this along with me, I was sure. But right now, my mind was about to fracture and I couldn't spare him an ounce of compassion.

  The first stroke of the cloth was excruciating. I screamed and writhed and cursed him through trembling lips. The second was just as bad and I tried, in vain, to scratch him. To strike out and make him stop. The third, thankfully made me pass out.

  I never knew you could dream when unconscious. Sleep isn't a loss of consciousness, is it? It's just a natural state of reduced awareness. This, what I was experiencing now, was not natural, nor was it just a reduction of awareness. I was otherwise gone from being in that room with Lutin.

  But still, I dreamed. Of lying in the grass on the hill behind my parents' farm, staring up at the clouds.

  “There's a cloud shaped like a sheep,” I said to no one, pointing to a fluffy white cotton ball of a cloud with a head and what looked like four legs beneath.

  “And there's one shaped like a dragon.” Michel's voice came from beside me, his bare golden cream arm pointing up at what could dubiously be considered a dragon-like blob.

  “Or a lizard,” I replied, thinking how nice it was that I still dreamed of Michel. That when my life was shot to hell and I was even in a different realm than the human world, he was still able to soothe, if only in my dreams. Losing my mind had never felt so good before.

  “Definitely a dragon,” he said, matter-of-factly.

  His hand slid into mine between us and he began stroking the back of it with his thumb. It was so cold.

  “I miss you,” I said, allowing the sensation of his touch to wash over me.

  “And I miss you too,” he said softly, lifting my hand up to lay a kiss on my palm. I felt beads of sweat above his upper lip. “I am sorry,” he breathed out against my skin.

  “It wasn't your fault.” He hadn't planned on dying and leaving me behind. Amicus, his sire, had killed him and Lutin had reversed the joining just in time. If there was to be fault laid anywhere, it would be with them.

  As Amicus has now met the final death - the real, true final death that is - then that just leaves Lutin. Who currently had me held prisoner in his fairy castle in Álfheimr.

  “I felt you arrive,” Michel said, not making any sense at all. Maybe arrive in the dream? “You are so close, but I cannot come to you. I hope I have been of some help.”

  I squeezed his hand to remind him he was helping me. He was here in my mind holding my hand in his.

  “Ma douce.” And there was such a wealth of the unsaid in his tone.

  “I know,” I answered and let a breath out on a sigh. If only we'd had more time.

  Speaking of time. “I cannot stay,” Michel whispered, somehow sounding so far away already and yet I could still feel him holding my hand. “Queen Sofiq is calling me to her.” Huh? “Listen,” he whispered leaning over me and and for the first time I saw how tired and worn he looked. Those damn shadows were still haunting beneath his eyes and his cheek bones were standing out in stark relief. He looked grey still, like the last mental illusion my mind had conjured up. I gasped at the decline I saw in him, but he just lifted a finger and held it to my lips. “Find the fairy Alerac. Trust him and no other. We will be together again soon, ma belle. Believe it and so it shall be.”

  He disappeared in a swirl of Michel shaped colours and I was left with tears streaming down my cheek and the ache in my heart, which had slightly subsided before arriving in this realm, cracking right open to reveal a chasm.

  Why couldn't my dreams just bring relief? Why did they have to play tricks on me too?

  Chapter 12

  Whittling Away Time

  I woke up to the sound of shouting. Lutin's angry voice floating in from the bathroom next door. The crash of glass or pottery smashing and the thud of something else landing hard against stone.

  My body was no longer aching. The heat that had possessed me was gone and in its place was an emptiness. It matched the chasm in my heart.

  “The girl was not to know your elska would react so badly, your Highness.” A woman's level voice, not Mena's, drifted in from behind the partially closed door.

  “It is completely unacceptable. As soon as the girl saw the reaction Lucinda had, she should have removed the ointment immediately.” Lutin was practically spitting the words out at her.

  “The reaction did not occur until after Mena left your chambers,” the woman argued reasonably.

  “I do not believe you,” Lutin ground out. “Do you have any idea what my elska has been through? And you have failed to care for her adequately. For this there will be punishment.”

  I heard a small gasp, it could only have come from Mena. So scared and tiny and reached right through the room and landed somewhere in the middle of that gaping hole already tearing my heart apart.

  I bounded from the bed, grabbing a sheet to wrap around me and swiftly ran into the adjoining bathroom. It was a shambles. Lutin had spat the dummy and trashed the entire place and in the middle stood a tall, regal and haughty looking older fey woman. When I say older, she didn't have a wrinkle on her, but she definitely had the look of someone twice the age of Mena. She was dressed in what was obviously servant's attire. Still colourful, but with a small apron of white over the skirt of deep royal blue. Her outfit matched Mena's who hunched beside her, but she carried herself in an entirely different way from the small girl. Her silver hair was also piled in a flurry of curls on top of her head, making her seem even taller than she probably was.

  “Lutin,” I said softly and he spun around immediately to look at me. “She had no way of knowing.” Mena's eyes shot up at me and the look of surprise that flashed in them was obvious.

  Lutin was beside me in an instant, that whole walking through space thing sending a shiver down my spine. He reached for me and hesitated, but when I didn't cringe or pull back, wrapped me in his arms and buried his face in my neck. I watched as both Mena and the silver haired woman looked on without feeling the need to turn away. Privacy not even a consideration.

  Lutin's kisses over my neck and up my jaw made me feel uncomfortable, but I pulled on all my Nosferatin training. Never show fear. Never give an inch. Always st
ay on guard. And kept my eyes on the shrewd silver haired servant while I clasped his shoulders and head, and dragged his lips to mine. I kissed him back as hungrily as he kissed me and was thankful that the strange misplaced emotions of possession and jealousy from before, were nowhere to be seen. I was guessing they had been a by-product of the bath and whatever had been mixed in with it.

  When I opened my eyes again as Lutin pulled back breathlessly, I noticed the woman had relaxed, seemingly convinced of my attraction to Lutin. Mena was beaming.

  “Leave us,” Lutin said huskily. “We'll discuss this on the morrow.”

  “Of course, your Highness,” the woman said and both she and Mena curtsied and left. Lutin didn't even notice, his eyes only for me.

  “Elska,” he whispered, leading me back into the bedroom. “How are you feeling?”

  I was feeling fine. No longer befuddled by whatever had affected me. Just a niggling sense of sadness left over from the trickery of my dream. It seemed to consume my mind more than the knowledge of Lutin's ointment that had turned me into a writhing, incoherent bundle of over-sexed need. I did, however, know that admitting I was feeling fine was dangerous. Lutin was clearly in the mood to take things further.

  So, I replied with what I hoped was a convincing yawn. “I'm so tired, Lutin. I can barely keep my eyes open.”

  A look of disappointment flashed over his face, replaced with a genuine look of concern.

  “Of course.” He helped me dress back in the nightgown. I had insisted, the thought of climbing into bed naked with him too frightening to even contemplate. Then he pulled the bed covers up and began to undress himself, climbing into the bed beside me when he was ready.

  “Are you tired?” he said hopefully over my shoulder, his breath brushing at my hair.

  “Very,” I whispered, willing myself to relax.

  “Pity,” came his muffled reply, his face now buried in my hair. But he didn't say anything else and after a while, his breathing deepened and became more regular and I was astonished to note he had fallen asleep.

  I couldn't sleep though. So many thoughts milling in my head. The Fey were an enemy I had absolutely no experience battling. They had magical influence on their side and now it seemed, potions and concoctions that could make me feel any manner of things. Would Lutin have Mena try again? A less powerful mixture next time, so I don't become ill, but instead accepted him in the bed with open arms? He had said he wouldn't force me and since the strange dream-like incident, where my mind-Michel had managed to convince Lutin that we had in fact had sex, Lutin now had nothing to hold him back. In his mind I had accepted him in my bed once after all, why not again?

  I spent more than an hour lying still in Lutin's arms, listening to his steady breaths and trying to think of how to get out of this mess. If I wasn't careful, I would begin to see no escape. A dangerous, powerless place to be. If you don't have hope, then what is left? I refused to believe I couldn't get back to Earth. Somehow I would make Lutin return there with me and when we got there, I would kill him.

  I let that thought fester and grow and used the warmth it created inside me to shield from the coldness of loss of hope. I would not give an inch to these fairies. They had me here in body, but never in heart or soul.

  In an effort to calm myself, because my breathing had increased and my heart was starting to pound, I thought back on the last dream with Michel. Playing over every detail. From the clouds, to his face – tired and gaunt - to his words that we would be together again. Maybe, in Elysium, he knew when my time would finally be up. Maybe, he knew I would be there with him soon.

  But, that didn't explain his mention of the fairy Alerac. I could only assume that this Alerac would bring me the death I had long desired. Maybe Alerac would finally let me leave this world, or worlds as the case may be, behind. And take me to Michel in Elysium.

  That thought gave me comfort as I finally drifted off to sleep.

  When morning came Lutin had vanished, only Mena with me in the room. I rolled over and rubbed sleep from my eyes as she quietly set out a dress for me to wear.

  “Good morning,” I mumbled. I bet they bloody well didn't have coffee here.

  “My Lady, I trust you slept well,” she replied in a quiet voice.

  “Like a log,” I answered and sat up stretching. “Where's Lutin?”

  “He had duties to perform, but said to tell you he would be home in time for the ceremony this afternoon.

  My stomach plummeted to the floor. “What ceremony?” I asked sitting very, very still.

  “The kvángask of course, my Lady. The whole court is preparing. It is very exciting, many are coming from all over the realm.”

  I forced my breathing to slow and shuttered away the panic into a corner of my mind.

  “What actually happens at the kvángask?” I asked as she brought clothes over for me to dress in. I let her start to undo the buttons on my nightgown, only because I was struck numb by thought of the ceremony planned for later today.

  “Well, there will be a feast of course. The timing is perfect, the late harvest has just come in. So, the food will be magnificent. My friend Kalliq works in the kitchens and she said they've been cooking all night.” A feast, not so bad. “Then the queen will announce your kvángask and you will share silver.” Hadn't we already done that? At least Lutin had given me the blasted bracelet and I had staked him with silver once, in the side. “Then..” she trailed off, her cheeks burning a bright red.

  “Then what, Mena?” I prompted, not liking the look on her face.

  “Well, my Lady, I have never been to a royal kvángask before, perhaps they are different from those of my class.” She stopped to pull an elaborately detailed full dress over my head, in a deep green shot with gold. Once it was settled in place and she began the laborious task of doing up the ties behind the fitted bodice, she continued. “A drink is shared and then the couple share Light. It is all about sharing,” she said in a rush.

  I let her finish with the ties and then start on brushing my hair before I asked, “Share Light?”

  “I know I shouldn't be embarrassed talking about this, my Lady. But, I am young and have not had my first sharing of Light. I can't wait, but I am also a little scared.” Her voice was whisper soft, I had to strain to hear her.

  “Mena,” I said, when she came round the front of me to place a clip strategically in my hair. “What exactly does sharing of Light mean?”

  I'd never shared my Light with anyone, or at least, I'd never had anyone reciprocate. I've blasted people, in self defence of course. I've shared my Light for fun. Memories of what my Light could do to Michel are still etched vividly on my mind. I've accidentally unleashed my Light in moments of heightened emotions, like panic and fear. I've used my Light to banish the Dark from a vampire. I've brought vampires under my line with my Light. But, I had never shared Light with anyone.

  All Nosferatins have Light, they can do some of what I can with it. They can send it out, they can tempt Dark vampires back towards the Light with their own. That is what we are, who we are. We are of the Light. But, they don't have quite the skills I have and it had never occurred to me that I could meld my Light with another Nosferatin. I thought of my former trainer Nero then. Could I have shared Light with him? And what would it have felt like?

  A small part of me was compelled to know. I had recognised Lutin's Light from the moment I first saw him wield it at Amicus. I have been resisting it, resisting reaching for it and unleashing mine since then. But, I have felt that undeniable pull. As though my body, my Light, knows what it wants, but my mind is screaming, No! I have no idea if touching Lutin's Light with mine would be a bad thing or not, but somewhere, deep down inside, a part of me is frozen solid with fear.

  “It is beautiful, it is special, it is cherished above all else. There is nothing as intimate as the entwining of two people's Light. And when shared in a sacred rite, it is magnificent." She spoke with a faraway look to her eyes, a whimsical tint to he
r features.

  I wasn't sure if she had answered my question. I still didn't know exactly what it would entail, what the end result would be. But, I didn't have it in me to press the issue. Mena had said she had never shared Light before, how was she to know exactly what it would mean?

  A small part of me kept thinking it would be a bad, bad thing. Another part, a part that I readily do not want to admit, was curious. I am a Child of the Light. The Light is what I am. To share it with another...

  Suddenly I couldn't breathe and it didn't have anything to do with the tight fitting bodice.

  “Are you all right, my Lady?” Mena asked with much concern.

  I waved her away and went to lean on the windowsill, getting my first view of Álfheimr. It was beautiful. I forgot about not being able to breathe and gasped at the colours and diversity in the trees and flowers I could see. I strained my neck to see more. Tall trees, taller than the clouds. Greens and reds and browns and golds. From summery leaves to the rich colours of autumn all at the same time. Mixed in amongst over sized flowers with petals as big as plates. Pinks, oranges, blues, mauves, crimsons and yellows. So many colours and so damn captivating.

  I could see an orchard with large ripe looking fruits, a large double-wide greenhouse as big as a skyscraper. A huge pond with fish jumping out of the water. Small, dainty houses, immaculately presented in the distance in a myriad of bright colours. And everywhere fey. Working, harvesting, playing, fishing. It was a natural playground, rich and abundant, and so very full of life.

  “It's beautiful,” I said, a little wistfully. Mena slid up beside me to look out.

  “Your realm is not like this?”

  “We have parks and farms and countryside, but everything here is bigger and brighter and way more colourful. And at home, the cities are starting to encroach on the land. We chop our trees down to make way for buildings. We pour concrete over the grass, so our cars can run smoothly and clog up the sky with fumes. Your sky seems so clear,” I said in awe.

  “Of course it is," a sharp voice said from behind us, "we do not abuse our world. Only humans who live for such a short space of time treat nature with disdain. Why bother to protect it if you only need to live in it for eighty years or so.”