Shardless

by Stephanie Fisher

  “I am! I swear I am,” he howled, the tears streaming down his face somewhat belying his words. “I’m sorry!”

  “Liar!”

  “Okay. Okay!” Standing to his full height, Skye held his hands out in supplication. Taly’s eyes were wide, her cheeks flushed, but she backed off slightly when she saw that his laughter was starting to die down. “You’re right,” he conceded, a devilish smirk curling his lips. “I’m not sorry. Not even a little bit. You’re just so dainty now! It’s adorable!”

  With an indignant cry, Taly renewed her efforts, sending Skye straight into another fit of uncontrollable laughter. After letting her get in a few good hits, he easily seized her wrists in one hand and wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her in close so she couldn’t kick at him. She continued to struggle for a few moments, each trailing chuckle that rumbled through his chest fanning the flames of her ire.

  When she finally started to quiet down, he loosened his grip and released her fists. Her shoulders were still heaving from the exertion, but she made no move to push him away.

  “Hi,” he whispered, already moving to give her some space. But before he could step away, she gave an unexpected sigh of defeat and wrapped her arms around his waist.

  “Hi,” she said, burying her face in the crook of his neck.

  Skye’s chest felt uncomfortably tight as he folded his arms around her tiny frame, the feeling growing stronger when she gave another soft sigh and relaxed into him. She didn’t speak, and neither did he, and for a little while, it was easy enough to pretend that everything was still okay.

  “Quick question,” he said when he felt her start to pull away. He waited for her to look up before giving her damp hair a playful tug. “Why are you wet?”

  Taly shoved him as she stepped back. “That’s a long story,” she said with the ghost of a smile. Staring out over the sea of white blossoms blanketing the side of the road, she toyed with the pendant around her neck and scuffed the dirt with the toe of her boot. When she spoke, her voice held an edge of uncertainty. “That stuff about the hot water wasn’t really true, was it?”

  That prompted another fit of laughter from Skye, made worse when she huffed and started walking ahead of him. “Taly, wait!” He started jogging after her, still chuckling. “It’s not true. None of it,” he said as he fell into step beside her. Shrugging off his greatcoat, he draped the heavy garment around her shoulders. Something inside him sighed in relief when she reached out and pulled the small peace offering more tightly around her. “Except for the part about Sarina shopping. She’s always had a problem, but it’s been a lot worse lately. I have no idea why.”

  He saw her trying to fight it, but despite her best effort to maintain a neutral expression, her lips began to quirk to the side. She let out a frustrated sigh, chewing on her bottom lip as the corners of her mouth continued to twitch.

  “Don’t do it,” Skye whispered loudly. “Don’t laugh. You know it just encourages me.”

  A muted snort escaped, followed by a giggle. Looking up, Taly finally gave him a real smile. “You’re an ass,” she said with a shake of her head.

  “Thank you,” Skye replied automatically, a wide grin splitting his face. This was more like it—more like them.

  Eventually, they came upon Harbor Manor itself. It was a sprawling stone structure, built when the Time Queen was still in residence on the island—a monument to an era of splendor that had long since passed. Thanks to the Marquess, the home had been kept in good condition. The gray stone facade was regularly repaired, and ivy crawled across the exterior. Ivain had given up long ago trying to contain the plant’s chaotic sprawl, and now the willful creeper was as much a part of the manor as the blanket of snowdrops that covered the front lawn.

  As they ascended the gray-stone staircase, a tall, lanky man rushed down to meet them.

  Ivain Castaro, the Marquess of Tempris, had lived on the island for over 700 years—ever since he bought Harbor Manor as a wedding gift for his late wife. He was at this point in his career one of the most renowned shadow mages in the fey world, and it was for this reason that Skye had been sent to train with him when he was only nine years old.

  Laughter bubbled up out of the fey noble’s throat as he took the stairs two at a time, and his hands raked through a shock of blonde hair so bright it was almost white. His high forehead only served to accentuate his long, slender face, and despite his highborn heritage and the nearly eternal youth that it granted, lines forged from a countless number of gentle smiles creased his skin.

  “There she is!” he called out in the cultured accent of the mainland fey. “My little one has finally come home!”

  Ivain embraced Taly, picking her up and twirling her around before depositing her back on the ground. Holding her out at arm’s length, he appraised her with a critical eye, no doubt noting the way she still shivered beneath Skye’s greatcoat. His nostrils flared, and his eyes flicked down to the bloody tear in the leg of her trousers. It wasn’t the only bloodstain that peppered the worn and faded garment.

  “Hello, sire,” Taly said, her tone uncharacteristically formal.

  “Sire? Since when do you call me sire?” he questioned with a scowl. Taly bowed her head out of habit. Though the Marquess was a kind man, he had learned by now how to cow his mischievous wards with just a look. Skye still squirmed just thinking about being on the receiving end of that stark, blue gaze.

  After a long moment, the Marquess’ stern façade cracked, and he affectionately ruffled Taly’s wild hair. “I jest. I jest. Shards, you are skin and bones, little one. We’re going to have to fatten you up. Tell me, Skye—did you manage to convince her to stay for dinner?”

  Taly opened her mouth to reply, but Skye cut her off. “She said she had other matters to attend to, so I wouldn’t want to presume.” He bumped her shoulder and gave her a smirk as he moved to stand next to the taller man.

  “I see.” Leaning down to look Taly in the eye, Ivain whispered conspiratorially, “I approve. You shouldn’t make things too easy for him.”

  Skye snorted. “When has she ever made anything easy?”

  Taly smiled serenely. “I’ve always told you, Skye. You’d have a much easier time if you just stopped arguing back.”

  Ivain laughed loudly as he reached over and slapped Skye on the shoulder. “Truer words were never spoken! Skye, my boy—take that advice to heart. You really will be happier when you learn to stop arguing with the women in your life.” Smoothing back a lock of wispy, white-blonde hair, Ivain announced, “Well, I need to get back to work if I’m going to be able to take this evening off, so I’ll leave you to convince her, boy.”

  Turning to Taly, the Marquess ducked down to look her in the eye. “Just in case, I’ve already instructed Eliza to prepare lamb and noodles tonight. Still your favorite, I hope. And even though I told her that you wouldn’t want her to make a big fuss, our Eliza insisted on making a sugarberry pie. The kind with the candied walnuts on top. I believe I also saw her making brown sugar ice cream this morning. Apparently, 21 is supposed to be something of a milestone for young mortals, and she would not be deterred. Not that you should let that influence your decision. No. You have your own life now, and we respect that.”

  Ivain made to leave but briefly turned to add, “Although, Eliza did have to go all the way to the mainland to find sugarberries that were in season. Poor dear—she’s had a terrible time this past winter. She’s just now getting back on her feet after a nasty case of dowsing fatigue, but she simply would not listen to reason. It had to be sugarberries because that was the little one’s favorite.”

  Skye laughed at the retreating noble, chancing a glance at Taly. She didn’t seem pleased.

  “I’m starting to think I should’ve just walked the other way,” she said, her nose scrunched up like she was trying to figure something out. “Shards, that’s low. Fine. I’ll stay for dinner, but only because there’s pie. You guys know how I feel about pie.”

  As he tu
rned to follow her inside, Skye added sheepishly, “I swear, there really is a job.”

  “Skye! Come in here,” Ivain called as Skye passed by the open door of his study.

  Skye’s footsteps creaked as he walked across the wooden floor. While Harbor Manor couldn’t compare with the grandeur of his family’s estate in Ghislain, it was far more comfortable. Homey. Whenever he was forced to visit his family on the mainland (twice a year, every year), he always found himself craving the warmth that seemed to emanate from the very stones of the aged mansion. He wasn’t looking forward to the day when he would be expected to take up permanent residence on the mainland as his role as future Duke of Ghislain would eventually require of him.

  The Marquess stood near the back of the study, a fire crackling merrily in the great stone hearth beside him. He set down the book in his hand, turning to face Skye. “Where’s Taly? I didn’t think you would let her out of your sight now that you finally managed to drag her back here.”

  “She’s taking a bath. It seems she still has a weakness for bubbles and hot water,” Skye replied with a smirk, coming over to stand beside his mentor. “And I have an aversion to being punched, so I let her be.”

  “It’s good to have her back,” Ivain said with a sigh. “This old place seems so empty without the two of you screaming back and forth at each other from across the hall.”

  “Yes, but she won’t stay. She’s out to prove something.” Skye frowned, staring moodily into the fire. “Whatever that may be.”

  “I know. I didn’t expect her to come back for good,” Ivain said with a chuckle. “We might not like it, but Taly has her own path to follow. The only thing we can do is step aside and offer our assistance when she needs it. At least that’s what Sarina keeps telling me. My little sister is generally right about these sorts of things.”

  “Yeah, Sarina has told me that too. ‘Let Taly find her own way,’ and so on,” Skye grumbled irritably. “The only way Taly’s going to find is her way into an early grave. Did Sarina tell you she took up salvaging? Salvaging, of all things. It’s like she’s trying to get herself killed.”

  “Oh, I know,” Ivain said, placing a comforting hand on Skye’s shoulder. “That little detail did not escape me either. But you and I both know that if you try to dissuade Taly from something she’s set her mind to, you’ll just end up pushing her further away.”

  When Skye remained silent, Ivain continued with a faint note of sadness, “Besides, whether you choose to believe what she’s told Sarina concerning her reasons for leaving or not, the fact of that matter is that Taly is not like us. She’s mortal, and a little distance will ease the inevitable pain that always comes with those associations. We may not like it, but humans die, Skylen.”

  "We both know there are ways around that," Skye said, giving Ivain a pointed look.

  "True, but she would never consent to joining the Feseraa," the older man replied, his mouth set in a grim line. "And to be frank, that's not the life that I want for her."

  "But it's just 50 years," Skye argued stubbornly. “50 years of breeding services in exchange for immortality.”

  "I understand," Ivain conceded in a measured tone, “but even if the breeding term is only temporary, her children would be taken from her arms as soon as they're born, and she'd be passed around from noble to noble like some broodmare. I don't want that for her, and neither do you.”

  Skye stuffed his hands into his pockets. “It wouldn't have to be like that. My mother has already offered to buy the full term of Taly's contract, and she's given me her assurances that Taly wouldn't be forced to uphold the breeding requirements. The contract would just be a way to bring her under the protection of my family. Taly would be safe, she would be respected, and most importantly, she wouldn’t have to grow old and die. That bullshit she fed Sarina about trying to get some distance before she starts aging would be moot.”

  Ivain hesitated but then shook his head. “I can't say that the same idea hasn't crossed my mind a time or two this past year—execute a sham breeding contract purely as a means to receive the necessary authorizations required to perform the Rites of the Imorati and grant her immortality. But I still don't like it. The Feseraa have far more rights and privileges now than they did before the Schism, but that might not last. Anti-mortal sentiment has been on the rise lately. If the situation continues to sour, at least Taly, as a human, still has the option to retreat to the mortal realm. As a Feseraa, she wouldn't be able to survive in an aetherless environment. She would be trapped here.”

  Skye blew out a sharp breath. As much as he hated to admit it, the older fey noble made some valid points. And it was for those very same reasons that he kept telling his mother “no” whenever she broached the subject. Clearing his throat, he asked, “Was there a reason you called me in here?”

  “Ah yes!” the Marquess exclaimed. “Has Taly accepted the job yet?”

  Skye barked out a laugh. “What do you think?”

  “I see,” Ivain said tiredly, drumming his fingers on the mantle. “That’s a no, then.”

  “You know, it doesn’t help that she probably thinks the job was just a ruse to get her here. You and I never go to the Aion Gate this far out from the actual bridging date.”

  Ivain sighed and ran a hand across the stubble on his chin. “I am, perhaps, being overly cautious, but I just can’t shake this feeling that something’s off. I’d feel much better if you went and confirmed the last set of readings the Gate Watchers sent us.”

  “The readings looked fine to me, but I’ll go where you tell me,” Skye conceded easily. “With or without Taly, I’ll make do.”

  “Taly will agree,” Ivain insisted. “Just keep at her. I don’t care how much coin it takes—make sure she takes the job. If this works out, I’m hoping to offer her a permanent position. Guides are just going to become more and more scarce the closer we get to the bridging date. True—Taly is young and inexperienced, but Sarina assures me that our little one knows her way around the island. With a little training and the right resources, she could be far more skilled than any guide for hire—a valuable addition to the manor staff.”

  “Wait.” Skye arched a suspicious brow, chuckling softly when the Marquess feigned confusion. “As part of the manor staff, wouldn’t she need to move onto the main property?”

  Ivain shrugged. “Yes, that would be the most convenient arrangement. And since she’s been very clear that she no longer wishes to reside within the main house, there just happens to be a little cottage on the eastern edge of the estate I think she would like—very secluded but still inside the manor’s wards. As luck would have it, I’ve just had it freshened up.”

  Skye turned away from the fire and stepped over to the large oaken desk stuffed into the far corner of the room. Picking through a stack of papers, he asked, “This wouldn’t have anything to do with those three mortal girls that went missing last week, would it?”

  Ivain’s face was impassive as he stared into the fire. After a long moment, he said, “Tempris is always a much more dangerous place when the Aion Gate is charging, but I’d be lying if I said that it didn’t seem worse this cycle. The number of missing person reports that have crossed my desk this year is… troubling. Especially considering how many of them have been either mortal or magicless. I know my sister keeps a close eye on our little one, but I’d feel much better if Taly moved closer to the manor.”

  “What happened to ‘humans die,’ and ‘a little distance will ease the inevitable pain that comes with those associations?’ Hmm?” Skye glanced at Ivain from the corner of his eye. “C’mon, which is it, old man?”

  Ivain pulled away from the fire, scratching at the back of his neck as he came to stand next to Skye. “The cottage is all the way over on the eastern side of the property—how much more distance do you want?”

  A rumbling peal of laughter erupted from the older fey’s throat, and he clapped a hand on Skye’s shoulder. “Now then, come along, boy,” he said as he ushe
red Skye towards the door. “Go get ready for dinner. This is the first time our little family has been together for a very long time, and Sarina will want you looking presentable.”

  With that, the door to the study closed behind him with a soft click. Skye smiled as he headed towards the stairs that would lead to his quarters on the fourth floor. It seemed Sarina wasn’t the only Castaro sibling playing games.

  As he approached his bedroom door, he heard another voice calling out to him. “Skylen Emrys! Get in here!”

  Skye grinned. It looked like he had already managed to piss Taly off. At least he hadn’t lost his touch.

  “How may I be of service, Miss Caro?” he asked, walking into the spacious suite just across the hall.

  Unlike his quarters, which had been outfitted in dark, masculine hues of green and brown, Taly’s personal apartment was all air and light. Draped in varying shades of blue and cream, it was like walking inside a cloud. The last of the evening light was streaming through a nearby bay window, casting shadows across the various pieces of mortal tech that lay scattered across every available surface. For as long as he could remember, Taly had always been fascinated by anything that came from the mortal realm, and though Sarina had tried, the noblewoman had never been able to get the girl to stop tinkering with the random bits of junk she would sometimes find at the Swap. As a result, Skye had taken to calling her “Tinker,” and then eventually just “Tink.”

  Taly was sitting at an ornately carved wooden vanity, and their former nanny and teacher stood behind the fuming girl, trying to tame her rebellious mop of hair with a brush and a pair of scissors. It seemed Sarina still hadn’t given up on trying to turn her into a proper lady.

  “Sarina? Any idea what I’ve done now?” Skye gave the auburn-haired noblewoman a pleading look.

  Sarina, smiling coyly, replied, “I believe you forgot to mention our visitors.”

  “Oh.” Skye did his best to maintain a neutral expression. When it came to managing Taly’s ire, it was important never to show any signs of weakness.