Lionheart

by Thea Harrison

  Opening his senses wide, he scanned for the slightest residue of Morgan’s magic but found nothing. The crystal cave had magically returned to its neutral state. If it weren’t for the physical evidence, he would never know that his life had been on the line.

  He was quite sure Kathryn would have already searched for the needle with her own highly developed magical sense, but as he had grown well acquainted with Morgan’s magic over the years, he’d hoped he might detect something she had missed.

  Was it possible the needle had expelled all its magic, and there wasn’t any residue left to sense? If anyone had that kind of skill with their magic, it would be Morgan.

  But Oberon tended to think that the spell had been too powerful and complex to dissipate completely upon detonation. However slight, there should have been a lingering trace of Power…

  If the needle was indeed still lying somewhere in the cave.

  So it was gone, and there were only three scents in the cave—his, Kathryn’s, and Robin’s. No random thief had crept into the palace undetected.

  While he was sure Kathryn would be adept at dancing around truthsense if she felt the need, she hadn’t lied once since he had met her. Besides, she was the one who had brought up the needle’s absence, so there was only one inescapable conclusion to be drawn.

  Why had Robin taken the needle? For safekeeping, or for some agenda of his own?

  Thoughtfully, he headed back up the stairs and over to the wine cellar, located in a separate area. There, more emotion welled up in the form of pleasure and nostalgia. He made his way back to the dusty room that held his rare, older wines.

  After inspecting them, he was torn between choosing one of Lyonesse’s oldest vintages, because he thought Kathryn would enjoy the history of it, and a precious bottle of golden salveri wine from Ys.

  Combining food and magic were an integral part in all the Other lands, for healing properties, for food storage, and for pleasure, but nobody mixed food and magic together quite like the kingdoms in the Other land of Ys. Their crops were unique and their skills unparalleled.

  In the end, he decided against picking one bottle over the other and took both upstairs.

  As soon as he stepped into the kitchen, he could tell Kathryn’s mood had changed. Large pieces of roasted venison had joined the platters of pies on the center table. The cavernous space had warmed from her cooking, and she had propped open the back door to let in the fresh afternoon air.

  She stood leaning against the door looking out, her expression closed and remote. He studied her profile as he approached. As he drew close, she gave him a preoccupied smile.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked as he set the wine on the table.

  She shook her head without answering and turned to watch as he opened both bottles. “Two bottles? Very extravagant.”

  “I think waking up from a years-long stasis spell and surviving a high-risk surgery entitles me to a little extravagance.” He held up one bottle with his left hand. “This wine is made from the very first harvest here in Lyonesse after we had created our demesne. And this one…” He held up the second bottle with his right hand. “…this is a bottle of golden salveri wine, from Karre in Ys.”

  Her eyes widened. “I’ve heard of salveri wine, but I’ve never gotten the chance to taste it before.”

  “You are in for a treat. It’s indescribable. The finest champagne I have ever drunk tasted like raw vinegar in comparison to salveri wine.” He smiled. “After this, I will have only five bottles left.”

  “Isn’t it illegal to export salveri from Karre?” She watched him locate two plain glass goblets, which he set on the table beside the bottles.

  “It was when I put myself into stasis,” he replied. “So I imagine it still is, but I’d acquired my dozen bottles before that law went into effect… That was a very, very long time ago.”

  Fascination had taken over her expression, but she made no move to leave her spot by the door. “What about the hallucinations?”

  “As long as you don’t drink several bottles at once, they are beautiful and harmless. In Karre, the visions are considered sacred, a gift from their Exalted—their ruler who is both a mystical leader and head of their nation. They drink salveri during several religious ceremonies and at their Festival of Rebirth every spring. They believe the visions that come during the festival are a foretelling of what will come into their lives over the next year.”

  “Is there any truth to that?” she asked curiously.

  “Possibly. I’ve never attended their Festival of Rebirth, so I don’t really know.” Carefully he poured a portion of the luminous liquid into each goblet and picked up both glasses to join her at the door. Fragrance from the wine had bloomed when he poured it, and her expression changed as she caught the scent.

  She breathed deeply. “That is heavenly… I can’t decide if it’s floral or fruity. I just know I’ve never smelled anything like it before.”

  “And you never will again. Salveri is unique. I’ve heard stories of thieves who’ve attempted to steal cuttings from the vineyards, but no one has ever managed to grow salveri vines away from Karre soil. Between their salveri and their magic-infused oils and spices, Karre is one of the wealthiest countries, either on Earth or in any Other land.” With a smile, he offered her one of the goblets. When she accepted it, he touched the rim of his goblet to hers. “Thank you for my life, Kathryn.”

  “You are most welcome, Oberon.” Closing her eyes, she held her goblet close to her nose and inhaled deeply again. “How impaired will we be?”

  She was cautious about the unknown and considered everything before she took action. He told her, “You’re full Wyr, so I don’t think very impaired. It’s not the same experience as drinking other alcohol. If we decide to finish this bottle and the bottle of Lyonesse wine in one sitting, we will feel exceedingly pleasant but nothing more. I give you my word, you will be quite safe from any ill effects.”

  “Okay.” Giving him a grin, she took a careful sip, and her expression changed again, this time with sheer delight. “Dear gods.”

  Her wonder pleased him so very much.

  “That’s how I remember it,” he said with satisfaction. Now that he’d had a chance to enjoy her reaction, he took his own first sip. Bright, exquisite flavor flowed over his tongue.

  He held it in his mouth to experience the full complexity of notes. When he swallowed, warmth and light filled his midsection, and he felt embraced with a sense of incredible well-being.

  Beside him, Kathryn made a quiet, inarticulate sound. Her expression had become transfixed, her gaze filled with awe. She whispered, “What am I looking at?”

  “I don’t know. It’s different each time for everybody. The first time I drank salveri, I felt like I was surrounded by people I could barely see who loved me immensely.” He smiled at the memory. “I knew right then I was going to take home as many bottles as I could transport. Karreans call the experience the ‘song of souls.’”

  “How wonderful.” She sighed. “I’m not seeing people… I’m seeing something like translucent flames, like I’m totally immersed in this bright golden light. I can still see everything around me just fine, but it’s all veiled with the shining light.”

  “Very nice.”

  “It is so lovely.”

  Then his own vision overtook him. He heard himself whisper, “Ah, damn.”

  “What is it?” Her attention sharpened.

  “Nothing.” He turned away to stare at the ruined vegetable gardens outside. “Everything is fine.”

  “But what happened?” She laid a hand on his arm. “What are you seeing?”

  He had to work to get words out. “Orchards full of fruit, a clear jade sea, and fields of ripe wheat rippling in the wind. I’m seeing Lyonesse the way she used to be—the way she should be.”

  Her fingers tightened gently. “She will be that way again.”

  “If I have anything to say about it, she will. I just need to hunt down Isabea
u to make sure she can’t hurt us ever again.”

  Kathryn studied his expression. “I don’t think I ever heard how the whole conflict with Isabeau started. What happened?”

  He barked out a bitter laugh. “She’s always been bigoted and xenophobic, and she used to hunt us for sport. It was one of the reasons we banded together to create Lyonesse, but the fact that an entire demesne of mixed-race people exists is an affront to her world view. According to her, we are freaks of nature, and we need to be eradicated. She hates those with Light Fae blood the most. We have become her obsession. She won’t stop until we make her stop.”

  “Four weeks,” she told him.

  “What?” Jolted out of his preoccupation, he frowned at her.

  “You can go to war in four weeks.” She shrugged. “Technically, since your surgery was yesterday, you can go in three weeks and six days.”

  The Daoine Sidhe couldn’t wait that long. The time slippage between Lyonesse and almost everywhere else was too great. Four more weeks would give Isabeau far too much time to plan and execute her next attack.

  But he didn’t tell Kathryn that. Instead, he pressed her fingers where they rested on his bicep. Then he went to retrieve the bottle and poured them more wine.

  More to change the subject than for any other reason, he said, “I took longer to get the wine than I had expected. I took a detour down to the crystal cave.”

  She made a face. “It’s a mess down there.”

  “Not important. I’ll get someone to clean it up.” He savored another swallow of the salveri. “I wanted to see if I could catch any hint of magical residue from Morgan’s needle, but there was nothing. I think Robin took it.”

  Her gaze flashed to his, then away again. “I do too. I just don’t understand why he would, yet not tell us about it.” She set her goblet on the table, and her mood changed again. Wearing the same closed, remote expression from when he had returned with the wine, she told him, “I also think I know why he disappeared again.”

  Raising his eyebrows, he set aside his goblet too. Savoring the salveri wine seemed too fine a pastime for where this conversation appeared to be headed. “Very well, then—why?”

  She swung back around and gave him a level look. “Because I asked him to bring Annwyn and the others here as fast as he could.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Kathryn had no real idea how Oberon was going to respond to what she had said, so she braced herself for anything. Maybe her heart rate increased a bit, but she’d had quite a few years’ experience in Dragos’s court, and she knew how to hide her feelings when she needed to.

  But all he did was give her one of his long, inscrutable looks. She was not the only one who knew how to hide things. He was far too skilled at hiding his own thoughts.

  “What?” she said finally, rotating one hand to prompt him to get on with it. Whatever it was going to be.

  “As you might imagine, the Lyonesse wine is much earthier than the salveri,” he told her. Despite his size, he moved with the grace of a dancer as he wound around the table to retrieve two more goblets from a cupboard.

  He would be shockingly fast in battle. She knew because she had seen it firsthand.

  And his lack of reaction was confusing. As she watched him pour a rich, ruby red wine into the two fresh goblets, she asked, “That’s all you’re going to say?”

  The Oberon before the surgery would have snapped and snarled. He would have accused her of trying to run away, or of interfering somehow, but she had no idea how to cope with this apparent… Indifference? Aplomb?

  “What would you have me say?” he asked. “I must admit your own attitude puzzles me. You’re acting almost as if you expect an argument, but I have no intention of engaging in any kind of behavior that prevents me from enjoying these truly spectacular vintages.” Holding out one of the goblets of red wine, he gave her a smile. “Remember, Kathryn. We’re celebrating.”

  “Of course we are.” Warily, she took the glass. She couldn’t shake the sense he was outmaneuvering her in some fashion. If only she could figure out what he was up to. “About Robin.”

  “Try the wine first,” he suggested softly. “I remember when they brought the grapes in from the fields. We were tremendously excited. We were building villages and towns, and this place, as fast as we could. This wine, to me, has always tasted like hope.”

  He did it. He succeeded in pulling her away from talking about Robin. Smiling, she replied, “Then it must taste delicious.”

  “It does,” he told her. “It’s one of my very favorites. I’m glad to get the chance to share it with you.”

  How could one try to start an argument after that gracious statement? “Thank you, you’re very generous.” As he watched, she took a sip.

  “There are no visions with this one, I’m afraid.” With a look of deep pleasure, he drank from his own glass. “This is a mundane wine, not a magical one.”

  “It’s lovely!” she exclaimed. “So rich, but not sweet. And the color is gorgeous.”

  “Better than rubies,” he said, returning her smile. “Thank you for talking to Robin about getting the others. I hope that’s what he’s done. They should be here.”

  “That’s what I said too,” she muttered.

  But the sooner they arrived, the sooner she could leave. Should leave. Was she the only one bothered by that? Rattled, she buried her nose in her glass and drank more of the beautiful wine. This wine tasting was a rare experience, and she should concentrate on appreciating it as much as she could.

  His expression sobered. “You alluded to Robin having a terrible time. I meant to ask about that. What happened to him?”

  “I only know what I was told, and that wasn’t much.” Walking over to the table, she picked one of the sweet pastries and bit into it. She had eaten her fill of the meat earlier but found she was in the mood for dessert. “Isabeau captured him and apparently tortured him for some time. My friend Sophie—you’ll meet her one day—is the one who rescued him. She told me she didn’t think he’d had a chance to heal from what happened. She loves him, but she warned his thinking and decisions might be off, even dangerous.” She glanced at him uneasily. “I feel funny telling you this. I don’t want to create problems for him. Like everyone else in Lyonesse, he deserves to be welcomed back home and given help when he needs it.”

  “You’re not creating problems,” he replied. “I needed to know this. I’ll treat him with extra care when he shows up again.”

  “I think that’s a good idea.” Damn, she liked this post-op Oberon so much. He was charming to talk to, sophisticated, and strategic in his thinking. She finished her pastry and licked the sugar off her fingers.

  She caught him watching her with a slight smile. He finished his glass of wine and set the goblet aside. “Now, let’s talk about why you wanted to talk Robin into getting the others.”

  She froze. “I thought we were done talking about that.”

  “Noooo,” he murmured on a long, low purr. “No, we’re not done with that. I just didn’t want to fight with you. But we are definitely going to discuss it.”

  “There’s nothing to discuss,” she exclaimed. “Have you had one of these sweet pastries yet? You haven’t, have you? They turned out really well, and they pair wonderfully with this red wine. In fact, I think I’m going to have another one.”

  “Please do,” he said as he maneuvered around the end of the table and came up behind her. “Watching you lick the sugar off your fingers was one of the most delightful things I’ve seen in years.”

  “That bar is mighty low—you haven’t seen anything in years.” She grabbed another pastry and crammed a huge, inelegant bite into her mouth. “Whatever it is you’re doing,” she said around her mouthful, “you can stop it right now.”

  “I have no intention of stopping.” He ran light fingers along the neckline of her dress at the back, and a convulsive shiver rippled down her spine. “This dress looks beautiful on you, by the way. Deep green
is definitely one of your colors.”

  “Thank you.” She swallowed hard. Without craning her neck to look at him, she pointed behind herself in his general direction. “Patient.” Then she pointed at herself. “Doctor.”

  He captured her hand, pulled her around to face him, then lifted her sugary fingers to his mouth. First, he sucked on her forefinger, massaging her skin with his tongue. She felt the caress all over her body.

  He purred, “Delicious.”

  Just as he was about to take her second finger in his mouth, she yanked her hand away. “You stop that,” she snapped. Or tried to snap.

  Somehow it came out quite differently than she had intended, in a breathless sigh.

  “Kathryn darling, I’m just getting started,” he assured her. Taking her by the hips, he walked her backward until she bumped into the table.

  He was literally purring. Unlike some Wyr cats she had known who had light, almost effeminate purrs, Oberon’s purr was deep and rough. The sound vibrated all over her skin. Aw, damn it. It was both sexy and adorable.

  “Not okay, King.” Her half-eaten pastry slipped from nerveless fingers.

  “Don’t care, Doctor.” Settling both hands at her waist, he looked at her deeply. His golden and black eyes caught the late-afternoon light. “Why did you try to persuade Robin to get the others?”

  His torso had come flush against hers. Longer, broader, and more muscled than she, he dominated the space. All she had to do was push him away, but her hands seem to have acquired minds of their own. Starting at his thick, powerful wrists, they worked their way up his arms to grasp at his wide shoulders.

  “Because you need them,” she said.

  “What a very proper doctorly response.” He stroked the fine hairs at her temple back and nuzzled her.