by Jory Strong
Analia frowned. “But it took three of you to bring me here, and it took everyone humming to send the six of you who brought Kellen and Crew back. Are you saying the charms make it easier to create a portal?”
Gellawin nodded. “Yes. The charms draw on the magic in this realm. Tobik is young by our standards. By himself and without the aid of the charms, he does not have enough personal power to bring a human into this realm.”
Kellen emitted a low, threatening growl and an infant wrapped in a light green blanket started to wail. The child’s mother rocked the baby and rubbed its tiny back. Kellen said, “Would he have enough magic to transport a fey hound?”
Gellawin looked over his shoulder at the dark orchard. “Yes.”
Crew said, “I think it’s safe to assume your enemies have brought a new ally to this realm.”
Several of the elders exchanged glances. Gellawin said, “Many of us enjoy lying beneath the night sky. But tonight everyone except for those stationed as guards will sleep in the burrow.”
Kellen asked, “What will you do with the charms? Possessing them might well draw additional predators to this world.”
“We will take them to the sacred lake. They will be reabsorbed by the crystal they were carved from,” Gellawin said.
Kellen removed the apple-shaped charm from his pocket. It glowed, emitting green light that stretched across the fire circle and on either side, touching all those gathered.
Tears fell from the eyes of men and women alike. While young children stared wide-eyed in wonder and infants cooed and reached.
Kellen clasped Analia’s braceleted wrist and turned it so her palm faced upward. He placed the charm in its center. “Your choice.”
Her heart soared at his gesture. She leaned forward, brushed her lips across his before turning her attention to the charm resting on her palm.
It was shockingly heavy given its small size and previous weight. But the choice was an easy one for her to make. She passed the crystal apple to Furgil, sitting next to her. And as they’d done with the tree-shaped charm, each grig touched or held the small green apple as it made its way around the circle.
Crew took a moment to examine it, holding it out toward the fire like a jeweler gauging the worth of a diamond by the way it refracted light.
“Dragons,” Kellen muttered against Analia’s ear, low enough she was surprised Crew could hear it.
The dragon flashed a smile. “I am what I am.”
He passed the charm on. It returned to Kellen, who reversed its direction until it was in the monk-like grig’s possession.
With tears streaming down his face, Dugald cupped both charms in his hands. He bent over them, whispered what sounded like gibberish to Analia but was probably some type of spell passed down from parent to child, a safeguard perhaps, that Nizzo had insisted upon before allowing Edea to craft the charms.
The children around the fire grew restless while the adults seemed to grow more tense with each repetition of gibberish. Analia caught herself leaning forward, wanted to ask Kellen if he understood the words or could feel the magic building, changing, but didn’t dare talk.
Dugald went silent. He lifted his face, the tears coming faster and harder, then opened his cupped hands.
Instead of two small charms of different shapes and colors, a luminescent green heart sat on his palm.
It was a deeper green, and far larger than the mass of the two charms combined. And in the firelight it seemed to pulse, like the slow, contented beat of a heart.
“Tomorrow we will make the trek to the sacred lake,” Gellawin said, then turned to Analia. “Tonight, thanks to the return and reunification of the crystals, there is magic enough to take you and your compatriots to the human realm.”
Analia’s heart plummeted. She wasn’t ready to go back to her everyday reality!
“I’d like to stay. I’d like to see more of your world. I’d like to make the trek with you.”
Gellawin gazed at her with piercing eyes. “You will always be considered a true friend of the grig and be welcomed among us. But the task we undertake tomorrow is fraught with danger. If our enemies become aware of our intention to return the crystal and end the use of it as a source of power, they will attack.”
“I’m willing to risk that danger.”
“Lia,” Kellen growled, rolling her heart with the endearment he’d only used while they were making love.
She turned to face him. “You asked earlier if the banished grig could have brought a fey hound to this world. Were you talking about Deidra?”
He answered with lips pulled back and another rumbled growl. She nodded. “Then we stay and see this thing to its conclusion. That’s the right thing to do.”
“She has a point,” Crew said. “There are two of us, plus the grig, to see to Analia’s safety and take the artifact out of play.”
“Alright, but she learns how to protect herself at a distance.” Kellen looked beyond the circle and into the dark orchard. “Starting now.”
His attention shifted to Gellawin. “What weapons do the grig possess?”
“Clubs. Knives. Spears. Bows and arrows.”
“A bow would do nicely,” Kellen said.
“I’ve got an extra,” Furgil volunteered.
Gellawin turned toward the gathered grigs. “Let us break the fire circle early this evening, so we may prepare for tomorrow’s journey.”
Around the fire, the adults and older children nodded. The women with infants and toddlers were the first to stand. They left the circle, all of them heading toward one spot in the orchard.
Analia thought they intended to take the path between a huge, dead tree and an equally massive living one bearing nuts. Instead they stopped in front of the leafless tree.
One of the teen boys hurried over. He touched two places on the tree trunk and then pulled backward, revealing a doorway.
“This is amazing,” Analia whispered. “I almost feel like I’m in a dream.”
Kellen laughed softly, leaned in and brushed his mouth against her neck, sending a surge of heat into her breasts. “Later we’ll expand upon your dream.”
Crew, who’d crossed the circle to join them, made a gagging sound.
Kellen said, “You’ll have to excuse him. Like cats, dragons are subject to hair balls.”
“Seriously?”
“A poor joke,” Crew said, eyes glittering very much like she’d imagine a dragon’s glittered. “When we return to the human world, I’m going to tell Maksim to partner you with Taine. It’s only fitting. The two of you can regale each other with talk about mate—”
“Wouldn’t talking to the elders about tomorrow’s journey and the enemies we might face be a better use of your time?” Kellen growled, creating a flutter of uncertainty in Analia’s chest.
Did he not want to be teased? Or was his objection to the idea of a mate?
Furgil’s arrival with a bow and quiver of arrows chased the questions away. Analia couldn’t help but smile, “This makes me feel like Katniss in Hunger Games. There was something on the news about girls flocking to archery ranges after the movie released.”
Analia took the bow and quiver from Furgil as Crew headed toward the gathered elders. She looked upward, where two moons were now visible and lighting the clearing. Kellen said, “Modern weapons fail in non-human worlds. In fact, they are often deadly to anyone who attempts to use them. But bows are found in most realms.”
Gwendolen joined them. She was carrying a woven basket with round targets carved out of wood and stained by berry juice, all of them pockmarked from having been hit by numerous arrows.
She offered the basket to Kellen. “Gellawin says you can leave everything just inside the burrow entrance when you’re done. He also said that one of the sentries will show you where you can sleep.”
“Thank you,” Analia said then crouched and laid the bow and quiver on the ground. “Is it okay if I give you a goodnight hug?”
Gwendolen beamed. �
��I’d like that.”
Analia hugged the tiny girl who’d eased the way for her when she’d first joined the fire circle. “See you tomorrow.”
Gwendolen stepped from the hug and nodded somberly. “It’s a hard trek to the sacred lake. Gellawin says we’ll leave early.”
Analia’s pulse skipped though she had no way of knowing just how likely it was they’d be attacked. “You’re going?”
“All the descendants of Nizzo are.”
The child turned and headed toward the massive tree, leaving Analia determined to gain enough skill to help keep Gwendolen safe.
Kellen set up the targets using branches and piles of rock to give them a variety of heights. As he did that, Analia played with the bow.
She’d never tried archery, but the concept was easy to grasp. Pull back, making the bowstring taut. Point the tip of the arrow at the target. Release.
How hard could it be?
Chapter 11
Kellen rejoined her. “Ready?”
“Ready.”
The first arrow burrowed into the ground some fifteen feet in front of the relatively large bullseye she was aiming for.
The second sailed past the same target and disappeared into the dark orchard.
The third did the same, and sadly, there was no larger target to aim for unless she started shooting trees.
She had a feeling the grigs would take great offense if she left one of their trees looking like a porcupine—assuming she could consistently hit said tree.
She caught Kellen trying to hide his smile but didn’t challenge him to do better—she was fairly certain he could. Sighing she said, “I might be more dangerous than the enemy.”
He did grin then, and moved behind her, hands going to her waist and lips going to her neck, flooding her chest and sex with warmth. “Practice makes perfect.”
Given the growing erection pressed against her buttocks, she suspected he was thinking about a different kind of practice. “I’m not going inside until I hit a target.”
A target—one, single, solitary victory—not that she’d quit at one, but she didn’t want to end up outside all night or end the night feeling like a failure by setting what seemed like an impossible goal—consistently hitting the largest target.
“It’s all about eye-hand coordination and getting a feel for how much the arrow will drop over a given distance,” Kellen said against her neck, stroking his hands upward along her sides and sending heat ahead of them, heat that went straight to her breasts.
Her nipples tightened into aching points. If they’d been alone…
But they weren’t. The grigs weren’t actively watching her attempts to master the use of a bow, but there were still plenty of them milling around the campfire.
Kellen’s hands moved to just beneath her breasts. “You’re becoming a distraction,” she said and felt his lips curve upward. “If you distract me, this will only take longer, and you’ll end up being the one to suffer the most.”
His laugh was a puff of breath. He pressed his erection more firmly against her, “That almost sounds like a challenge. Are you so sure I’m the only one who’ll suffer?”
She rolled her eyes though she couldn’t help but smile. “I’m not foolish enough to challenge you out in public.” Though it occurred to her the fey might have totally different norms when it came to public displays of affection—or more accurately, fucking in public.
She decided against taking that conversational detour. And relaxed when his hands moved away from her breasts, one going to hold the bow just beneath where her hand gripped the smooth wood, while the other covered hers where it gripped the end of a nocked arrow.
“For tonight,” he said, “just concentrate on developing a feel.”
He tilted the bow upward in a smooth movement, stopped and used his hand on hers to draw the string backward.
“Feel and release,” he said, his hand on the bow keeping it steady as they let the arrow fly.
The arrow hit an outer target ring with a thwack.
It sent a little thrill through her and had her reaching for another arrow.
Once again Kellen guided her movements, said, “Feel and release.”
The arrow hit closer to the center.
“Feel and release,” he said for a third time—and this time the arrow’s point hit the target dead center.
Bullseye.
He nibbled her neck, creating a renewed surge of heat. “Ready to try it on your own?”
“Ready.”
She nocked an arrow, followed the feel and tried to remain steady all the way through the release of the string.
Thwack.
The arrow struck the target—barely, but it struck!
She gave a little shout of glee and hopped up and down, laughed with a flush to her cheeks when several of the grigs made hooting sounds she interpreted as cheers—confirming, at least in her mind, that they were surreptitiously watching what she and Kellen did.
“Just a few more, so I know it wasn’t luck,” she said, anticipating Kellen’s intention to remind her that she’d said she’d quit as soon as she hit the target.
With an exaggerated sigh, he hugged her to him, making her aware of his hardened cock. “Go ahead, torment me.”
“Now and in a few minutes,” she said in a husky voice, the carnal images she envisioned blurring the scene in front of her.
He laughed and released her. “Do your worst.”
She fired a few more arrows at the largest target, hitting it all three times.
Nibbling her bottom lip, she contemplated whether she wanted to stop while she was ahead. But it seemed a waste not to try to hit some of the other targets Kellen had taken the time to set up.
She compromised, “Help me hit some of the smaller ones?”
His arms were immediately around her. “Fire away.”
Together they shot arrows at the other targets, including a target that was no larger than her hand. And each time, they were rewarded by the satisfying thwack of success.
With only one arrow remaining, Analia said, “Let me do the last one by myself.”
He stepped back. She took aim at the largest target—knowing herself well enough to accept that if she went small and missed, she’d never be able to quit on a failure.
She released the arrow and held her breath as it sailed straight and true to its target. Not a bull’s eye, but close enough—especially since she hoped to never have to aim, with the intent to kill, at a living creature.
Sighing with relief, she said, “Done.”
Kellen lifted the basket and together they headed toward the closest target.
Anticipation—and no small amount of trepidation—created a whirlpool of sensation in Kellen’s chest. His palms were actually sweaty, and his mouth suddenly dry as he contemplated the thing he intended to do—claim Analia as his mate.
He could no longer deny the attraction or how essential having her in his life had become. His pulse quickened, sending rapid throbbing beats through his cock—a cock that didn’t care whether she understood they’d be permanently bound together by magic or not, as long as it got back inside her.
Eventually she’d discover they were mated. Eventually he’d tell her—but he wasn’t ready for the vulnerability that came with completely handing over his heart.
Not now. Not tonight. Maybe not for days to come.
Kellen dropped the last of the targets into the basket after tugging a final arrow from the wooden circle and passing it to Analia. She placed the arrow in the quiver then took a step toward the dark orchard where some of her earlier shots had disappeared.
A shaft of fear pierced his chest. He grabbed her wrist, halting her. “We’ll collect them in the morning. Or the grigs will.”
“I don’t think the arrows went far,” she said, but didn’t attempt to pull from his grasp.
Kellen lifted his face and inhaled deeply, seeking the scent of enemies. He didn’t know what protections the grigs had, b
ut in this relatively magic-poor world, they would be no match against a fey hound, against Deidra. The bitch might be out there, lurking in the darkness, waiting for a chance to attack.
His hand tightened reflexively on Analia and she flinched but didn’t voice a complaint. “Sorry,” he murmured, easing his grip.
They went to the tree. He heard Analia’s breath catch in wonder as they stepped through the entranceway. Golden glowstones provided enough light to see the woven tapestries lining the smooth walls of the dead tree.
Not dead, Kellen thought a heartbeat later, feeling, more than scenting, the magic emanating from all around him. There were general principles when it came to magic, but it was still unique to each realm and to each species of supernatural beings.
He wondered if centuries past, the tree had surrendered itself to become a place where a clan of grigs could take up residence. There was no smell of rot and no evidence of structural weakness around them or above, where a spiraling staircase led upward, to what was probably a watcher’s post.
Setting the quiver of arrows and bow next to the doorway, Analia said, “This is amazing.”
He placed the basket full of targets next to the quiver and joined her at the edge of a hole on the far side of the entranceway, where the spiraled staircase continued downward.
Glowstones were set in hollowed-out places in the wall, but unlike the stairs that spiraled upward to a greater height, the stairs leading downward extended for only a short distance.
There were three different levels. On each level a dark opening just tall enough to accommodate a standing grig signified a tunnel entranceway.
A young sentry stepped into the tree and hurried over to them. He said, “I’ll lead you to your quarters.”
He jumped into the hole, nimbly landing on the fifth stair beneath the floor of the entry space. Next to Kellen, Analia shivered but took a cautious step down, the evidence of bravery filling him with pride.
She hugged the wall with her body and used the carved-out places where the glowstones sat as handholds.
He followed, ready to grab her if she stumbled.