by Multiple
Once we were on the ground, Tyllven looked down at us and said, “If you go straight through the gates and follow the main road until it ends, you will come to the castle where King Wyllven waits for you.”
“Thanks for the ride,” Jacob said starting to head for the gate.
I grabbed his arm. “Not so fast. We don’t go anywhere without Tyllven.”
“But I am much too big to get into the city like this,” the dragon protested.
“Transform.” I narrowed my eyes and didn’t budge.
“It takes too much time and the King is waiting.”
“Then we’ll just stay here with you and the King can come to us.” To emphasize my point, I sat on the ground. I didn’t believe a word the dragon said and I wasn’t about to walk through Wyvrndell without a guide. Outside of resort areas like Magic Sands, you took your life in your hands to walk alone in Fairy. I remembered the warnings on the travel agent’s contract. Tourists who wandered off resort property didn’t come back. Humans were prey here, defenseless prey that the Sidhe viewed as fair game.
“Sofia, what are you doing?” Jacob leaned over me, a puzzled look in his eyes.
“If we leave like he says, we will have forfeited safe passage.” I took the contract out of my back pocket and waved it in the air.
Understanding dawned in his eyes. “There’s a forfeit clause in the contract.”
“Probably. Here.” I handed him the contract again, which he took and skimmed it for a second time.
“I don’t remember seeing anything like that before, but it wouldn’t surprise me if there was one.” His eyes scanned the document rapidly.
The dragon heaved a great, sulfur laden sigh. “I cannot be your guide. I am due elsewhere. Just go into the city, you won’t come to any harm.”
“I don’t think so,” I said with a bright smile.
Tyllven frowned and shifted uncomfortably from one stubby foot to the next.
“Here it is. I found it,” Jacob whispered to me as I watched Tyllven try to come up with a response. “If we,” he paused running a finger along the scroll until he found the relevant section and quoted it to me, “forsake their protection, e.g. leaving a designated liaison behind or telling them to leave, our safe passage is null and void.” He rolled the scroll up a look of disgust on his face. “Tricky bastards these Sidhe.”
I nodded. “Yep, it’s a good idea to assume there’s some kind of trick involved in everything they do. Tricks are a cultural thing.” The Sidhe practically invented the practical joke, except theirs usually had teeth, sharp teeth that wanted to bite.
“I should know better. I actually do know better. I’m a lawyer after all and here I was ready to just walk off into town.”
I reached up and patted him on the arm. “Don’t worry, you’ll get the hang of it in no time.”
He gave me a thoughtful look. “I’m curious, what would’ve happened if we lost our safe passage?”
“Truthfully, I’m not sure. I know they can hold us subject to their laws and punishments, none of which a human would survive. We would be easy pickings for magical predators with no hope of rescue.”
“Magical predators?”
“Humans have some value here and there are rumors of slave trafficking. I’ve even heard renegades exchange humans here for magic.”
Jacob shook his head. “You’re kidding. The magic mafia? I thought they were just a bunch of crackpots.”
“It’s what I’ve heard.” Renegades, also known as the magic mafia, were humans who sold magic to the highest bidder. They had formed a sort of black market for magic and weren’t above kidnapping, theft, bribery, and even murder to achieve their goals. They worked outside the law to secure power for themselves with a few charms and magical trinkets left over to sell at exorbitant prices. Secretive and furtive, no one knew much about them other than they existed.
The dragon cleared his throat, ending our conversation. “I think the King has sent someone for you. Look behind you.”
I turned to see a tall man with pale blue skin, a pinched face, and large pointed ears walking towards us. A long sleeved robe in an iridescent turquoise flowed around his lean, almost skeletal frame as he moved.
Dipping his head in greeting he said, “I’m Jocyllen. The king sent me to guide you through Wyvrndell.”
“Great. I’m Sofia and this is my associate Jacob.” I stepped forward and held out a hand.
Jocyllen stared at my hand for a moment, his own remaining clasped behind his back, and said, “If you will follow me then.” He turned on his heel without waiting for a response and made his way to the gate.
Huh. Maybe Dragons didn’t shake hands. Maybe I’d just insulted my host. Whoops. With a shrug to Jacob, who appeared to be as confused about the handshake as I was, I moved to follow Jocyllen. Being a good four feet shorter, I had to run to keep up with his long strides. At the fast pace he set, it didn’t take long to reach the gates of the city where the guards let us pass without challenge.
Tyllven had dropped us off by the market entrance, and, fortunately, the streets were packed. Our guide had no choice but to slow down, otherwise I might’ve had to forfeit safe passage from sheer exhaustion. The slower pace allowed us to not only catch our breath, but to also take in the sights around us.
We walked on the outskirts of the market, behind the vendor tents which made it difficult to see the wares up for sale. Every once in a while, though, a tent would have its side or back flap up and I would catch a glimpse of handmade pottery made with, if the sign above the tent was correct, pixie dust. Another stall featured a robe maker whose proprietor shouted to us that he made the King’s own robes. One tent even sold discarded dragon scales, which given their size and iridescence would make nice serving platters.
Beings of all shapes, sizes, colors, jostled their way through the market with us. Some, like the elves, were taller than our guide, others, such as the gnomes, were no taller than my knee. Jacob and I, beyond being human, stood out simply by virtue of our fair skin. The Sidhe don’t naturally have white skin. Light shades of green, pink, blue, lavender yes, but never white. Several people did a double take at our appearance and whispered amongst themselves pointing. Outside resort areas, humans were still something of a rarity. Although that was changing with some of the new human-Sidhe economic initiatives.
I didn’t dwell on the stares as Jocellyn, breaking through the thickest part of the crowd, began to lengthen his stride again, forcing us to run. He did not seem inclined to wait and our smaller legs struggled to keep him in sight. Jacob yelled for him to slow down once, which he acknowledged by stopping for one split second before taking off again at an even faster pace—I suspected as punishment for our complaint.
“Sheesh, they are really doing their best to get out of this safe passage stuff,” Jacob panted beside me.
I nodded, not having the breath to spare for speech. If I had been able to talk, I would’ve told him that, while it wasn’t unusual for the Sidhe to use trickery, flat out running away from their safe passage obligation was a bit gauche. It smacked of desperation.
Jacob was saying something about oaths and breaking their spirit when I caught the first glimpse of Mark in the throng of people around us. I stopped short. “Mark?” He shouldn’t have been there. The dead cannot cross into Fairy. How was he there and why did he look so solid?
Jacob, having passed me by, turned and backtracked. “What is it?”
I brushed past him impatiently. Every fiber of my being was focused on the familiar face smiling at me. “Mark,” I called again with a wave.
Mark returned my wave and blew a kiss as he stepped back from the crowd and moved further away. Instead of his ghostly hovering, he looked to actually be walking with his feet touching the ground. A confused hope leaped in my heart.
“No, wait! Don’t go!” I broke into a run, elbowing people out of my way, frantic to get to Mark.
Behind me, Jacob shouted a warning of some sort, but I did
n’t care. All that mattered was finding Mark. Touching him. Pressing my body against his. I followed Mark down the street and around the corner into a small alleyway where I ran right into him.
“Easy princess. I’m here.” His blue eyes met mine and his mouth crooked into a smile.
I gazed up into his face. “Is it really you?”
“Yes.” His eyes sparkled at me like sunlight scattered on a calm sea.
“But how?” My voice cracked. I couldn’t believe he was here. How had he come to stand in front of me? Mark was dead, wasn’t he? Or had it all been a bad dream?
He pulled me close. “Don’t worry about that now. I’ve been waiting for you to find me.” I buried my head in his shoulder, inhaling his scent. He nuzzled my neck and nibbled my earlobe while a hand ran down my back in a light caress.
I moaned as he kissed his way down to the hollow of my neck. The softness of his lips changed to the hard bite of teeth. I gasped, caught on the edge between pleasure and pain.
In the distance, a voice shouted, “Let her go.”
Hands pulled me away from Mark and I gave a mewling cry of protest. I wanted to rip off my clothes and make mad passionate love right there on the streets of Wyverndell. I strained to run back to him, but could not overcome the strength of whoever held me. Tears coursing down my cheeks I screamed, “Mark!”
A stinging slap bounced off my cheek. “Wake up.”
I blinked and my vision cleared enough that I could see Jocyllen glaring at me with narrowed black eyes. “Where’s Mark?”
“Who is Mark?” Jocyllen’s gaze left mine and looked to someone behind me.
“Her boyfriend, but he’s been dead for about a year now,” said Jacob, who I realized was the person holding me.
“Ahh, no wonder you were such an easy target then,” Jocyllen said. He shoved Mark in front of him with one hand, the other holding Mark’s face forward. “Here, look at this. What do you see?”
“Mark,” I sobbed.
The guide released Mark’s chin and slapped me again. “You are hysterical. Now look, really look this time.”
I licked my lip tasting blood and looked at Mark again. Only this time he wavered in and out of focus. Sometimes I could see Mark before me, clear as day, and other times there was a small green man with violet eyes staring at me. The green man had a forked tongue that darted out of his mouth at me in a suggestive manner.
For a moment I drowned in sensation as a picture flashed through my mind of what that tongue could do to me. My knees went weak and I sagged in Jacob’s arms. “What is going on?”
“Finally she says something intelligent. You’ve been marked by an Eros goblin.”
“Marked? What does that mean?” I looked carefully at the sky avoiding eye contact with anyone around me in an effort to control the metaphysical onslaught being launched against me. A psychic conduit existed between the Eros goblin and I. No matter how I tried to shield myself, I couldn’t shut him out and he was slamming me with a crash course in the Sidhe version of the Kama Sutra..
“You’ve been infected with lust.”
“No kidding. Now what?” I gasped as I spoke, thinking lust wasn’t quite the word for the passion boiling in my blood. Even through the haze of desire, I still found a moment to wonder if the pharmaceutical companies knew about the Eros goblin. Whatever he infected me with would make a potent aphrodisiac.
“Wait until his bite works its way out of your system.”
Images hit me faster, a few positions looked like they could be fatal. I risked a peek at the Eros goblin wondering if I would still see Mark, but Mark was gone. All that remained was the green man with the forked tongue that, through sheer mental suggestion, was driving me out of my mind.
I writhed against Jacob and then felt the flush of embarrassment heat my cheeks at my behavior. “How long does it take for this to wear off?”
“Not long. A couple hours,” said Jocyllen with a longsuffering sigh.
I bit back a groan.“This intense?”
The dragon looked at me, eyes narrowed in disapproval as if I wasn’t worth the trouble. “There are things that can be done to help you.”
“Then help me,” I panted as my blood overheated. Soon it would begin to boil, I could feel it.
Jocyllen pointed to the Eros goblin. “And this goblin’s punishment?”
“Whatever your laws dictate,” I said between ragged breaths. The simple act of talking had been elevated to an aerobic activity from the Eros goblin’s bite. “Now get me out of here.” The last word came out in a high-pitched moan as my body arched against the constant stimulation, finally unable to resist it. My eyes rolled back in my head and I fell into the soft darkness of unconsciousness.
*
I floated for some time in a morass of erotic imagery. Every sexual fantasy and nightmare I had ever dreamed, thought, or imagined played through my mind and erogenous zones. Even unconscious, I could feel the heat from the bite envelope me, suffocating me until I began to choke. I woke then, coughing and clawing at my throat. I sat up, and, opening my eyes, found I was in a large bed. Jacob sat in a rocking chair next to the bed, but came to hover over me when he saw I was awake.
“Are you all right?”
“Water,” I said, my voice hoarse. My tongue felt like I’d been licking sawdust.
“Hang on.” He went to a small table holding a pitcher and poured some water for me. “Here.”
I took the small glass and drained it. “More.” I held up the empty glass thinking I would’ve preferred to drink straight from the pitcher.
Jacob brought me more water. I drained the glass again and then again, until there was no more water left.
“Better now?” Jacob asked with a sympathetic smile.
I thought for a moment, taking stock. Aside from feeling flushed, I no longer had the mad urge to strip off my clothes and engage in perverse sexual acts with a goblin. Progress. “Yes, I think so. Where are we?”
“The King’s castle. He sent his own healers to take care of you.”
Looking down, I saw that I wore a soft, cotton night gown. “Where are my clothes?” I scanned the room, but saw nothing except stone walls, a fireplace, and a few chairs.
“You soaked yours with sweat, so they took them to be cleaned.”
I frowned and let myself fall back onto my pillow. “Oh.”
“I think they left some robes for you in the bathroom closet.” Jacob pointed to a small doorway at the end of the room.
“They have bathrooms?”
“Yes. Very modern ones too.”
I threw back the covers and swung my legs over the side of the bed. Jacob lent an arm for support as I wobbled to my feet.
“Are you sure you should be up?” He looked concerned.
“Yes. I want to see the King as soon as possible.” I shook off Jacob’s hand, and took a few tentative steps on my own. Aside from feeling lightheaded, like I did when recovering from the flu, I was able to walk without difficulty. “But first a shower.” A girl had to have standards and being clean before meeting with royalty was one of mine.
Chapter Ten
The first thing I noticed when we were ushered into the throne room for our audience with the king, was the simple decoration. A throne constructed of roughly hewed wood sat on a dais, also constructed of wood. On its seat lay a crown made out of a smooth, polished wood that gleamed like gold in the sunlight coming in from the narrow windows lining the throne room. Everything was made of wood, there was no metal that I could see.
Between the windows, hung tapestries depicting dragons in daily life. One tapestry appeared overly modern for a Sidhe with a scene full of beakers, test tubes, and boiling distillations. In short, a chemistry lab, but I knew it wasn’t chemistry the dragons were interested in. They wanted gold, lots of gold and they had been trying for centuries to perfect the alchemy formulas for turning base metal into gold. They had been unsuccessful so far, but managed to create a tarnish resistant brass now us
ed widely throughout the human world. I had a pair of brass candlesticks that, thanks to the dragon’s alchemy, I hadn’t had to polish for more than six years.
Next to the alchemy tapestry, hung another showing two dragons soaring vertical from the ground, side by side, tails intertwined and fire shooting from their mouths. The other tapestries around the room seemed to deal with a dragon’s life from birth through adolescence. There were scenes of an egg hatching, a small dragon walking and flying as well as a young dragon receiving a piece of gold.
While certainly beautiful, the throne and tapestries decorating the walls lacked the attention to ostentatious detail I would’ve expected from royalty. Recalling the dragon’s legendary avaricious nature, though, I could see why avoiding metal might be wise. A dragon in the throes of gold lust might make off with a throne adorned with gold.
Jacob and I sat on the stools placed at the foot of the throne dais and waited. I fidgeted with the embroidered ribbon on the sleeve of the pale blue robe I wore, wondering how it was the dragon’s had adopted what amounted to nothing more than an elaborate muumuu as their preferred form of dress.
I was just beginning to try and picture what lay under a dragon’s robe that would make such billowy attire utilitarian, when, with no fanfare, a door opened and a dragon stepped into the room. Like all dragons, he was tall with a long face and wore a robe dyed a deep purple. The skin of his face and hands was a silvery gray, light enough that it almost seemed to reflect the sun filling the room. With a nod to us, he walked up the dais, put the crown on his head, and settled into the throne to address us. “Welcome to Wyvrndell. I am Wyllven, King of the dragons.”
Unsure of the protocol, I started to stand thinking I should curtsey or bow, but he held up a hand. “No need for formalities. Please sit.”