Pixilated

by Jane Atchley

  "She must be someone. You were sleeping with her."

  "I was not sleeping with her. She was sleeping with me."

  "Excuse me? Is there a difference?"

  "This is not about me." Purple sparks shot through his aura.

  "It is about you. I love you, Kree."

  There it was again, the pole-axed look Kayseri had first seen in Hob Woodstock's barn. How were the occasions alike? She had used mischief. Kree was angry. She had called him by his name. Was the stunned look a response to his name? Hadn't she ever called him by his name before? No. She did not think she ever had. His name was a weapon. One she could win this battle with if she kept her courage and held her course.

  "You don’t know what love is." Kree said. The red aura surrounding him bled into a soft pink. His shoulder rose and fell. "What happened between us, Katie, was a mistake. My mistake. You did not do anything wrong. Never think you did. I let things go too far. You don’t love me. I'm sure you think you do, but you don’t, not really. You don’t see the real me."

  It took everything she had not to laugh in his face. "I am not a little girl anymore, Kree. I am the woman I will be until my next aging cycle. What’s more, I know everything about you."

  Kree snorted.

  Kayseri rose from the chair. One could not win a fight sitting down and she meant to win this one. "Shall I prove it to you? You cannot father children. Goddess nectar stole your seed. You think this makes you less of a man, and you've been angry with your Goddess because of it for a long time. But Kree, you have six cadets looking to you to shape them into men. Do you love those lads less; do you give them any less of yourself because they are other men’s sons?

  "You feel guilty about your wife’s death. You think you failed. You, who never fail at anything and maybe you did. I was just a child when Molly died, and I already adored you. I cannot be the judge of that, but Kree, Molly’s death wasn't your fault. You weren't even there."

  His soft pink aura vanished replaced by a shield of black ice. "You don’t know that," he said. "There is no way you could."

  Kayseri raised her chin a fraction. "I was there. There was a pixie-moon that night. Do you remember? I came down to the garrison to see if you would play some games with me. You and Molly were arguing as you often did, so I hid myself in mischief. Molly said terrible things to you. She slapped you. You raised your hand as if you thought to slap her back, but you didn't. You just stood there staring at your hand as if you'd never seen it before. Then you tried to pull her into your arms, but Molly pushed you away. She told you to get out of her sight. She said she hated you."

  Kree retreated to the window, bowed his head against the dark glass. That icy black shield covered him from head to toe.

  "Molly cried after you left. I think she was sorry for what she’d said. I came out of hiding and held her hand to comfort her. She asked me to spend the night. She said you would find solace in someone else’s bed. I didn’t know what that meant, but there was a pixie-moon, so I stayed.

  "We made lemonade. We played Fox in the Hen House. Later, we went into the bedroom. Molly took your Goddess nectar from the dresser drawer. She asked me if I ever wondered what it was like to kiss a Goddess. I said I didn’t."

  Kayseri heard Kree make a sound. He might have said stop, but his voice was too soft for her to be sure. "Molly didn’t know Goddess nectar was poisonous. How could she when she saw you taste it every day? She wondered what it was like for you. That’s all. We danced under the pixie-moon until she got tired and lay down on the grass. Her lips turned blue. I got scared, and I ran to fetch my father, but when we got back, Molly was already dead. It was an accident, Kree."

  Kayseri moved to his side and lay her hand on his where he gripped the window ledge so hard his knuckles had turned white. "You didn't love Molly, did you? Is that why you punish yourself?"

  He touched the bruises already darkening on her wrist. "See these bruises? This is what I am good for and it sure as hell isn't love." Kree stared into the darkness outside. "I loved her as much as I could. I just couldn't love her enough. I know you were young, but you have to remember what I was like then.

  Kayseri remembered an impossibly tall young man who shortened his stride so the little girl tagging after him did not have to run. She remembered a young man with a cocky crooked grin who made men of rank wait while he gave his attention to whatever bit of silliness that same little girl wanted to impart. By the look on his face, he remembered someone else.

  "I was such a selfish bastard. Molly was the prettiest girl in town. You wouldn’t have known this about her, but she could have had her pick of town boys. I scared all her other suitors away because I could. Before long, all her town friends were all married and having babies. Molly wanted babies too, and I didn’t know I couldn't—not back then. I didn’t know squat about being married either, but I knew I had a duty toward Molly and I always do my duty."

  Kree picked up Kayseri’s hand and gently stroked the ugly bruises on her wrist. "I’m sorry I hurt you, Katie Mae. When I'm in a temper I forget how strong I am."

  "You didn't mean to"

  "I didn't mean to, is a piss-poor excuse for hurting someone I lo—it's a poor excuse that's all."

  She pulled him away from the window. "Kree, I wasn't going to tell you this, but Sandahl says she is afraid of being alone in Nhurstari. She's asked me to stay on with her. If you look me in the eye and tell me you don’t love me, don’t want me, I’ll stay with her. You will be free of my mischief and me. But, you have to decide tonight."

  Kree trailed the back of his hand down her cheek until his fingers cupped her chin. He tipped her chin up, leaned forward and slanted a soft kiss across her lips. He looked down into her soft brown eyes and whispered, "I do not love you, Kayseri Bruin."

  She blinked back tears that sprang into her eyes, and laid her hand on his cheek in a brief farewell. Then squaring her shoulders like a good little soldier, she walked out of the room.

  Kree sank into a chair burying his face in his hands too raw in spirit to move.

  "A courageous young woman, that one. She is a departure in type for you too." came his mother's voice. "But it’s clear to me you're mad in love with the half-cast chit. Why in the world did you lie to her?"

  Kree pushed to his feet and wiped telltale moisture off his cheek with the back of his hand. "Mother! Katie’s not–I’m not– You should have made your presence known."

  "And interrupt that astonishing display of mixed signals? Not in this lifetime. You are in my library, Goddess-born. If you counted on privacy, you should have asked permission to use it."

  "Your pardon, Mother."

  The Matriarch came down the steps leading up into the book stacks and stood studying her son. "Why did you lie to her?"

  "For the best reason, Mother. I am not for her. May I have permission to withdraw?"

  The Matriarch poured two glasses of brandy and offered one to him. "I noticed you did not say she is not for you."

  "That is not the issue. She is Lathan Bruin’s daughter. There must be hundreds of men who mean nothing to me, whose daughters’ lives I may ruin." Kree drained the glass and set it down on a nearby side table with a loud thunk. "May I have permission to withdraw?"

  "Where did you get the idea your needs are insignificant?"

  The first pinpricks of anger touched him. He knew her game. His mother manipulated with bold questions the way other mothers manipulated with guilt. "Here. I learned it here. I live to serve. May I have permission to withdraw?"

  The Matriarch lifted her one eyebrow. "When you give me the honest answer to my question, you may withdraw not before. Why did you lie?"

  "Wilderkin mate for life. What is my life, my handful of days, to someone with hundreds of years before her? I did my duty. I always do my duty. May I have permission to withdraw?"

  "I did not know Wilderkin took only one mate, however if true I’m sure your young lady does. If your longevity or lack thereof is not a concern
of hers, who are you to decide to whom she may give her heart? Have you become a seer?"

  "May I have permission to withdraw?"

  "You will answer my question."

  Kree dropped to one knee and glared at his Matriarch. His mother. His eyes blazed. His jaw muscle ticked. "It doesn't take a seer to perceive the inherent unhappiness in this circumstance. May I have permission to withdraw?"

  She raised her eyebrows. "Do not show your famous temper to me."

  "Your pardon, Mother."

  The Matriarch tucked her hands into the wide sleeves of her robe. "Life has dealt you deep wounds, son. Lick them and move on. We did not raise you for cowardice nor does it become you. You have permission to withdraw."

  Chapter Fourteen

  His mother laughed. "She didn’t!" She paused to dab tears from her eyes with the edge of her napkin. "A brave young woman, your Katie, and you say she did all this to be with you?"

  Kree nodded. Laughter was not at all the reaction he anticipated. "Near as I can tell."

  Another fit of laughter shook his mother's shoulders. She dabbed at her eyes again. "She must love you very much."

  "This situation is not funny, Mother." But laughter was contagious and Kree grinned in spite of the seriousness of his problem. "I have killed six men and an elfin sorcerer in the handful of days since I set out to bring home one runaway half-pixie. A High Thallasi prince is dead. An important Thallasi princess is missing from her equally important Nhurstari intended. I am running out of time. Did I mention her kidnappers nearly killed me twice?"

  The Matriarch’s fine china cup chimed against the saucer. "You are right. Templemen involved in elfin politics is not humorous, and a plot to make it look as if they are is even less so. I will look into the matter. In the meantime, how may Temple Arbala assist you?"

  "Katie says the princess needs a trousseau, whatever the hell that is."

  Kree swallowed a last bite of steak sopped in egg yolk, his favorite breakfast. The hazelnut-flavored coffee they shared was another favorite. He had not been home for nearly seven years, yet they remembered his preferences. Arbala truly was his home, even more than the garrison was, and now that he was here, he realized how much he had missed it.

  The Matriarch brought her napkin to her lips hiding another smile. Her eyes sparkled. "Wise as well as courageous. I like your young lady more with every revelation. She is correct. A princess of Thallasi cannot go into a hostile court in her shift."

  "Katie is not my young—" The Matriarch's laughter cut through Kree's denial. He closed his mouth. Protesting so obvious a truth made him appear foolish, and his mother thought him foolish enough already.

  She rang the silver hand bell beside her plate. "Claudine, please bring paper and quill." The priestess hurried away, returning at almost at once with the requested items. His mother scribbled a note on the paper and raised her gaze to Kree. "What else do you need?"

  Taking a sip of coffee, savoring its flavor, he narrowed his eyes in thought. "Provisions. Camping gear. A mount better suited to the princess’s size.

  "I’ve sent for backup, but my first lieutenant’s squad may not arrive before we have to move on. Do you think I might hire a couple of Templemen?" Initiates came to clear the table and Kree waited until they withdrew. "Are there men in residence who would have me?"

  Surprised by his question the Matriarch gave a soft chuckle. "Are there any who would not? You are Namar’s Gryphon. Because you spurn her nectar does not change this fact. The real question is; are there any you would have? Let me think on it while you take your young ladies to visit the dressmaker." She passed Kree the letter of credit she’d prepared. "This should cover anything you need."

  Kree’s eyebrows shot up. He gave a low whistle. He knew the value of kit and ponies. "Trousseaux must be expensive."

  The Matriarch’s humor returned full force. "Of the quality a Thallasi princess requires, made-up in only a day or two? Yes, my beautiful son, trousseaux are expensive."

  "You are really enjoying this aren’t you?"

  His mother dabbed at her eyes again. "You will find your way out. You always do."

  If outfitting his Wilderkin were this big a task, Kree figured he had best get started. After all, he had to face Kayseri eventually. It may as well be now. But Goddess, he dreaded the hatred he’d see in her eyes. He’d rather someone stake him an anthill.

  ***

  Two boys stood outside the broken doorframe, one lanky with dark hair and olive skin, who Kayseri judged perhaps fifteen, the other, stocky and freckled with sandy hair, eleven, or twelve at most. Braided hair and branded cheeks declared them both Goddess-born. The darker one swept a graceful bow.

  "Good morning, ladies. I am William." The boy gestured toward his companion, who also made a bow. "That is Roland. We have come to escort you to breakfast."

  Kayseri glanced down the hall where Kree’s door stood ajar.

  William followed her gaze. "Not to worry, he is not there. He exercised before dawn and now breaks his fast with Mother."

  "You’ve met My Captain?"

  "Oh no, lady." Roland said. "We’ve not had that honor, but everybody knows where he is. He can’t as much as fart without the whole temple talking of it."

  Kayseri and Sandahl giggled. William gave Roland a sharp elbow to the ribs. "Excuse him, my lady." He glared at the younger boy. "Roland has the manners of a wharf-rat. We heard you had a terrific dustup with himself last night." He touched the splintered doorframe. "We wish we could have witnessed it." Warm admiration brightened William's eyes. "You must have the heart of a lioness."

  It appeared boldness was a trait the Goddess-born acquired at birth. William’s praise for last night’s folly embarrassed Kayseri, but since this Goddess-born was on her side rather than Kree's, she accepted his arm. Sandahl took Roland’s and together the boys escorted them down two flights of stairs into what William referred to as the dining hall. This long room boasted half a dozen trestle tables seating four per side. A mixture of young women wearing simple blue shifts and little girls in white jumpers occupied most of the tables. These were the novices and the children of the Temple, William explained as he guided them to a round table at the heart of the hall. As the four of them crossed the space, the happy chatter became a buzzing whisper.

  William held Kayseri's chair with all the flare one might employ displaying a prize. "They’re talking of you, my lady. Everyone is—about how you fought the Gryphon. Most people wouldn't have the courage to speak to him unless he spoke first." William laughed delightedly. "But you hit him! And more than once the way I heard it."

  Kayseri stomach clinched. Kree has asked her not to make him look like a fool while they were in the Temple, and what had she done? She had made herself and her captain ridiculous.

  Roland pushed his chair up and snapped open his napkin. "It is William’s day. Aye. I hope you both enjoy scrambled eggs, toast, and strawberries. He always asks for that. Of course, if the Gryphon were eating in here, we’d be stuck with whatever he likes. I heard you grew up with him. What does he like?"

  Kayseri started to say she did not know Kree’s culinary preferences because he ate whatever came to hand including oatcakes meant for horses, but the boy had already turned his attention to Sandahl.

  "You're an elf, aren’t you? I’ve never seen an elf before. We don’t have Wilderkin where I’m from, Belton by the Sea. Boy, I wish we did because you’re really, really pretty." He never drew a breath.

  Sandahl's smile dimpled her cheeks. "Thank you."

  Breakfast arrived, scrambled eggs, toast, and strawberries just as Roland predicted. Kayseri found herself liking these young Goddess-born. They were amusing and, oh so, cocky-sure of themselves. She wondered if Kree had been like them. Knowing him, he had probably been far worse.

  Between one bite and the next all the laughter and conversation filling the hall stopped. The boys shot to their feet. Roland’s chair overturned with a loud clatter. Kayseri’s gaze followed thei
rs. Kree stood in the doorway resplendent in dragon's eye blue. The carved hilts on his fighting knives jutted above his shoulders. His saber hung in a slight curve against his powerful thigh. Kayseri could not help the sigh that escaped her any more than half a dozen other young women in the hall could. His hair was dressed in blessing-braids, tight, crop-rows braided away from his face to a point just behind his ears from there it fell in thin braids to his shoulders, one hundred braids; the perfect number for the Goddess's Gryphon, her perfect champion. Kayseri had not seen his hair in this fashion since the day he had hacked it off with a knife and tossed it on his wife's casket. The style suited him. He was so fine looking she wanted to cry.

  He crossed the room in long strides dragging a dust devil of color with him. It made Kayseri dizzy. She was still seeing his soul colors, an ability that came with the mate bond, but she had not mated with Kree, not that she did not want to. She wanted him with all her heart. Whatever was she to do? Kree was mundane as mud-pie, deaf and blind to Wilderkin magic, he could never share or understand this mystery. And he had said he didn't love her. What was she going to do?

  Kree stopped behind Sandahl’s chair and inclined his head to the boys. "Good morning Goddess-born. How are you called?"

  "William."

  "Roland."

  The boys bowed from the waist. "How are you called, Gryphon?" They asked, in unison. Kree’s dust-devil aura resolved itself into a silvery-blue touched with green that flared toward the boys.

  Eager for an understanding she could not glean from Kree, Kayseri sought Sandahl’s mind.

  "Sandahl, can you hear My Captain’s thoughts?"

  "Can't you?" Sandahl sounded surprised. "He conceals nothing. I’ve been filtering him out ever since I met him."

  "Something terrible happened last night and now I see his soul colors." Kayseri was desperate. "Please tell me what he’s thinking."

  "You bonded with him. How? When?"