by May Sage
He lowered his eyes, going back to a report about the southwest.
It looked like they were expecting a good harvest. Excellent.
He read, stamped the report before pulling another one, careful to outwardly pay no attention to the dangerous, fascinating creature who was weaving a place in his court without even trying.
Gods of War
Mel had believed that she'd signed up for a boring admin job, something she was entirely prepared for—and it beat cleaning toilets anyway. Instead, she lost herself in a world where historical fact and legends were one. She learned the history of the gods, the Enlightened, who'd shaped most sentient creatures on Earth. Reading about the space travels, the wars, the mad scientists responsible for humanity, shifters, and everything else had been fun.
But the history of Sidhe was another beast.
The Aos Si weren't just another creation of the gods. They were the very first. The most fascinating.
With human evolution, the Enlightened had picked monkeys and tweaked their genetic makeup until the result had looked like them, thought like them.
From what she understood, the Aos Si were built years and years before that, back when the Enlightened first found the nine viable planets in this galaxy.
The very first ship ever sent, Titania, harbored one particularly clever scientist, Gaea. With her twin brother, Uranus, and her mate Kronus, she built a creature from scratch. Not just a robot or an android—their kind had those aplenty—a being made of flesh, blood, soul, and magic.
When nine other ships traveled to this part of the universe, and a war raged between them over the territories they’d found, Gaea used her creations as servants who could fight the gods. For that office, they needed to be lethal, just as strong as any god. And she managed to make them so, only too well.
The creatures were sentient, with their own thoughts and desires. They didn't want to bleed and die for their maker. They rebelled, refused to fight for the giants and titans. Instead, they turned on them, siding with the gods from the eight other ships.
Mel had known the greater plots of the War of Worlds, but the involvement of the Aos Si was news to her.
Then came peace. The giants and titans had lost. And of course, the other gods turned on the Aos Si.
There was a pleasant feast where all were given delightful refreshments, and dances, and songs. Only, in their wines the Aos Si drank a potion—a curse that had since plagued all fae.
They could not lie. They could not be parted from the place where they'd been made, Gaea's laboratory: Sidhe. Their lives were tied to an artificial, immortal tree planted there. No fae could be parted from it for more than a year and a day, at the utmost. Every day away from Sidhe was physically painful, mentally draining.
Mel had a pile of red, blue, and green bookmarks at her side, and she systematically marked the pages where the tree, its island, or the fae curse were mentioned.
Guessing what Caim meant to do took no effort. He wanted to break the curse and free his people from their shackles. And why wouldn't he? They'd been grossly betrayed. But she had to admit, in the pit of her stomach, Mel felt a wave of unease.
Because she knew his kind. Not well enough, perhaps, but she'd seen what the most powerful of them, the best of them did to strangers. They didn’t value life.
Humanity didn’t either. Nor did the gods. Most creatures were fond of destruction, come to think of it. But freed, the fae would be a threat like no other. Well, perhaps the gods were just as bad, but most of them couldn't travel to Earth and the other mortal realms since the light-speed jump-points had been destroyed hundreds of years ago. Only those who knew secret portals between the worlds had any way to come through.
The Aos Si could reach Earth. So, if they weren't tied to the tree of life, they could stay there, and torture mortals and immortals to their hearts' content.
Suddenly, Mel found herself wishing there was a queen to stop them. To control them. She'd found the story about Queen Titania rather grim when Ilis sang it. But now she understood. It took a monster to govern wicked, god-like things.
She looked to Caim, who was still engrossed in his work. He was no monster. No dictator. If he managed to free his people, he would not dictate their actions. Lead them, guide them? Sure. But he wasn’t a tyrant. The Aos Si needed a tyrant to keep them in line. Otherwise, they could act like Lessara or Lyr, as brutal and cruel as they wanted to be.
She sighed, catching his attention. He looked up, eyelids fluttering. He had the longest, thickest lashes. She didn't think she'd ever seen a man who could smolder quite so well, without even meaning to.
Caim glanced behind him, to the darkening sky. "Did you take a break?"
Mel shook her head. She didn't know how long she'd been here, but it had felt like a couple of hours at most.
"Well, then you've certainly completed your work day. It's past twenty-two."
She blinked. "We've been here for twelve hours?"
Caim shrugged. "Give or take. You're probably hungry. I told the servants to leave this place alone while you're working on this, my apologies. I'll see that Trevana organizes lunch from tomorrow. You may go now."
Mel was reluctant to abandon her books. She'd read through seven—out of the three hundred piled up around her. Would she manage to run through all of those in a month and a half? She hoped so. He was paying her handsomely for the job, and besides, she truly was enjoying the education.
When she was on her feet, she stretched, finding her limbs a little sore, and her stomach was making itself known again.
Mel turned to Caim. "Aren't you taking a break?"
He glanced at his piled-up workload. "I think not. I'll be done by midnight if I keep going."
"I bet you're starving," she pointed out.
Caim rolled his eyes. "I'm Aos Si, Melpomene. We were made for endurance."
Endurance. Great. Now she was picturing how he could make use of that, ‘working’ between her legs all night long. Just what she needed.
Being stuck with such a perfect specimen of masculinity all day was doing a number on her. She cleared her throat. "Same time tomorrow?"
"Please. I'll have food sent to your quarters."
"Thanks, boss!" she replied, fleeing as fast as her legs could carry her.
Temptation
"What's the difference between fae and Aos Si?" she asked the next day.
The words had been used interchangeably by the people of Sidhe, but in the literature she was going through, there seemed to be a distinction she couldn't pinpoint.
She bit her lip, wondering whether she was allowed to bother the great lord of Silver while he worked.
He looked up. "All Aos Si are fae, but not all fae are Aos Si."
She turned the phrase in her mind a time or two, then said, "Nope. Makes no sense whatsoever."
She half-expected him to ignore her, and the silence stretching between them suggested he would, but just as she decided to return to the books, he signed the document he was working on and put it aside.
"The original folk made by the Enlightened are the Aos Si," Caim told her. "And when two Aos Si procreate, their children are also considered Aos Si. However, our race has a low birth rate, not unlike the gods themselves. Over the years, particularly when we used to bring brides from the mortal world, our blood has been mixed with witches, shifters, regular humans, vampires, even gods. The mixed-blood are fae. Those with a higher concentration of mortal blood, we call darklings."
She grinned. "Thanks. That makes more sense, I think. So, you guys consider the fae who aren't Aos Si…lesser?"
He frowned as he considered her question. "Not automatically, no. Queen Titania was fae. A child of Sidhe and Tartarus, born of a lord of Silver and a titan from the old world. No one would, even to this day, call her lesser."
"But a human-fae mix…"
He shrugged. "You've met Mael. I see much mortal blood in his features. Yet I don't think any of my knights would win against him
if he fought in earnest. Bloodlines are relevant. They determine our limits. But in the end, what matters is your own power."
She liked that a lot, as a person who had no clue about her own parentage.
“Any other questions? Understanding what you're reading is paramount.”
She shook her head. "It seems rather straightforward so far."
"Good. I forgot to ask whether you'd learned Futhark and Sanskrit. I don't think they're commonly taught anymore."
Mel directed her gaze to the text in front of her, confused. Then she blinked.
She was multilingual. In Aeaea, the immortals used a different language every day. There wasn't such a thing as a mother tongue for them. And she'd certainly been taught ancient Greek and Latin, too.
But she had never learned Sanskrit or Futhark. The volume she'd been reading without any effort was in runes. Runes that she should not have understood, and yet they came to her as naturally as any alphabet she knew.
"I haven't," she said, panic unreasonably gripping her chest. "I…haven't learned Futhark."
Caim got to his feet, and took one step toward her before stilling. An instant later, there was a knock on the door.
"Yes?"
"The carriage is ready, when you are, sir."
"We'll be out shortly," he replied, before facing toward her again. "Perfect. Lunch time. We can discuss this development in town."
They rode in the vehicle in silence through the streets of Argentas, her eyes rapturously taking in the vibrant city. But while she was suitably entertained, she couldn't pretend to stop thinking about those books she shouldn't have been able to read.
This place was too strange, too unsettling. It seemed to bring up so many questions and yet held all the answers at once.
Mel wasn't an idiot. She could guess. She read Sanskirt and Futhark because she'd been born to creatures who understood both. In magical beings, many skills were hereditary, especially when the parents had used magic to acquire them. If her mother or father had used spells to comprehend a language that might have been foreign to them, that capacity would have been embedded in their being on a cellular level. It could have transmitted to her.
She was touching a subject she'd given up enquiring about too long ago. Mel had told herself it didn't matter, that she didn't care. And now when she might just have a clue, she was terrified to hear it.
Knowledge, like all power, seldom came without cost.
The horses stopped as they reached a large, busy square with dozens of shops and as many restaurants.
"The lady's choice. We have fish, and grills, vegetarian places. We could even go straight to dessert."
"We're eating out?"
Caim shrugged. "Neither you nor I are very good at taking time to enjoy ourselves, it seems. It would be a shame if you saw nothing of Argentas but the walls of my office in your time here."
She could have pointed out that he'd given her three days off per week, but instead she grinned. Mel imagined stopping his workday hadn't been easy; he'd done it to ensure that she was taking a break herself.
She'd never expected him to be thoughtful. It didn't fit his character. And yet, here they were. She eagerly reached for the distraction.
"Fish," she decided. "Then dessert."
Until then, he'd purposely avoided scrutinizing the woman. Caim had suspected that showing an interest in Melpomene was a dangerous path. Now he admitted he couldn't help it. There was no sense in fighting against the inevitable. He'd deal with the fallout later.
Her energy screamed of the magic of this world, but she was no darkling. Her blood, scent, and appearance were nothing like that of the children of Sidhe.
"You say you're two hundred years old?" he asked after they'd taken a seat and ordered fresh fish with a side of seaweed and raw crustaceans.
She nodded. "I was brought to Earth as a newborn, days old. I grew up there."
Caim took a moment to think. "Only a handful of creatures still alive would have cause to read the ancient texts. Scholars and those who were alive back in the early days of literature. Because of your energy, I'd say it's safe to assume you are a child of the old gods."
And not a mixed-race with diluted mortal blood, either.
Mel nodded slowly. "Yes. I'm a pure immortal."
"Do you know of whose descent?" he questioned.
Mel shrugged. "Beats me. No clue."
He narrowed his eyes, wondering if she was lying. Strange that it was a concern at all. He didn't often converse with anyone who could.
"I have powers over waters, so probably some sea nymphs."
The servers were quick to come with their orders, along with two horns filled with sweet black wine.
He brought his horn to his nose and sniffed. Mel rolled her eyes, reaching out for it. Her fingers brushed his as she wrapped her hands around it. He let go.
She brought his to her lips and took a sip before handing it back to him.
Caim's jaw tightened. "Do not test my drinks again."
It was a dangerous office, and he would not allow her to get hurt on his behalf.
She rolled her eyes. "Whatever. Anyway, I don’t know why I freaked earlier. Sorry about that. I guess this place has been strange so far. Familiar, yet so very foreign. I feel like I'm connected to Sidhe, somehow. Which makes no sense. I should hate everything here. I was brought against my will."
"To the Iron Circle," Caim pointed out. "I recall you agreeing to travel to Argentas."
“Maybe,” she conceded. “But if it was up to me, I'd be in Paris. This wasn't my choice.”
Caim made no reply, though he had words at the tip of his tongue. She was right, why argue?
"I went to Paris, some time ago. A charming place. I enjoyed the debauchery. Are women of the night still walking Rue Saint Denis?"
Mel laughed. "Of course you'd know about prostitute hotspots. Yes, they're still there, night and day. You'd have to check their current pricing yourself; I can't say I frequent their establishments."
He grinned. "You believe I've ever needed to ply my lovers with coin?"
The question made her blush and look down. He couldn't say he didn't enjoy that.
"Anyway, as I was saying, I don't like being here. I should be at home with Julia and my friends. My biggest concern should be avoiding Urania and Calliope's attempts to get me back to the island where I was raised to continue doing a stupid job that never suited me. But…it's pretty here. And I'm enjoying the strange dynamic. The dinners with many courses, foreign-looking food that tastes delightful. The horses in the streets, the clear air without pollution."
He tilted his head. "Are you asking to stay?"
Mel shook her head before he was done speaking. "No, definitely not. Just saying it's not so bad."
Caim was irritated by his own irritation. Their table fell silent and that only served to rile him further. "What job?"
She lifted a brow.
"You said you had a job you didn't like. What was it?"
She told him about being a muse, a patron of the arts, inspiring people to be the best creators they could be. And how inadequate she'd felt. She talked, and talked, and talked about her home.
And he listened, understanding one thing.
Mel did not fully realize it, but she hated Earth. Her world was suffocating her, pulling her down. She shifted, looked down, gritted her teeth, sighed, and tapped her nails on the table as she shared her life. He’d not seen her so nervous before.
Caim stared at his wine.
Within the next few weeks, he could choose to convince her to remain here, or let her go.
One wise choice, the other, tempting.
Caim knew what he would have done, had he not been lord of the Silver Circle, charged with a self-appointed task bigger than himself, bigger than his realm. Yet in the short time since he'd met her, she’d already distracted him like nothing else.
He'd drive her to the spaceship himself to ensure she left this world.
Spells of Flesh
"I want to stay."
Mel blinked, staring at the boy who was making a golden ball float in the air.
It was her last day off that week and when he'd asked to walk to town with her, she'd accepted, though she was surprised. Quentin had his own life, busy with school and dozens of friends whenever she saw him.
"Stay?" she repeated, half confused, half outraged.
Quentin shrugged. "Back on Earth, I was just an apprentice with little skill. Three weeks here, and I can do more than my old master."
"Actually, that's almost five months of Earth time," Mel corrected.
The teenager shrugged indifferently. "Whatever. I would never have improved like this in five months on Earth. And it's more than that. Magic isn't secret here. We don't need to hide our power, be afraid of hurting humans without meaning to, or be hunted by some people who think we're demons. We're normal here. It's cool. One of my friends from school told me he'd asked his dad if I could hang out at their place for a while. His dad said yes. So, I'll stay."
Mel remained silent, stunned. She hadn't truly considered the possibility of making a life in Argentas, in Sidhe. She was already halfway through the volumes Caim had given her; once that temporary job was over, she had no purpose here. Not that she'd had much of a purpose in Paris, but she'd been comfortable in her shop, her apartment.
She looked into the distance, at the golden river running through the lively city. Some fae were jumping in the water and playing. Now that the weather had warmed up, any excuse to get cooler was a good one.
It wasn't just the children; fae of all ages valued entertainment.
"That's cool. You should definitely stay, kid."
"Maybe you should too," Quentin suggested, before shrugging. "You seem to like it here."
Mel's lips thinned. No, she had a home.
Do you?
And a family.
Kind of.