“Lady Meredith,” he beamed brilliantly. “I am pleased to see that your time in the bathhouse was well spent. You appear refreshed.”
“I feel exhilarated,” she admitted.
“Wonderful.” He slipped his arm through hers and drew her away from the bathhouse. “My servants have been busy readying your sleeping quarters, and though I am sure you are anxious to explore this place you left behind so long ago, I recommend you head straight to bed. There is a long journey ahead of you, and you are in dire need of rest before you begin.”
“Of course,” she agreed.
Him leaned slightly forward as they walked, as though he’d been trying once again to meet with her eyes. She did, but only for a moment, only long enough for her to realize how shamelessly she was flirting, and then her face flushed pink as she withdrew again.
She had never acted on such flirtatious impulses as the ones that fueled her in his company, but there was something about Him, she realized, something different than all the other young men she’d known. And she didn't mean the fact that he was fey, or that his skin was that strange hue between oak-moss and green, or even that he had antlers like a stag... none of that equated the difference, or even signaled her desire. It was so much more than that.
The casual confidence he exhibited, the clumsy stumble that made him laugh at himself when he seemed to be going out of his way to get her attention while they walked... or perhaps it was entirely based on his attraction to her. She could feel it, sense it every time he looked into her eyes, and she’d never experienced anything like it before. It was exciting, and she didn’t want it to end.
The faces that had watched her walking to the bathhouse had doubled in number on the way back to Sylvanus’s household. It seemed that every child had gone for her mother, every mother for her husband, until the entire realm now stood outside their homes, on the walkways waiting, watching—trying to catch a glimpse so they could decide for themselves just who she really was, and what good, if any she might bring to them.
She held her head high and made eye contact with every face she could, hoping this brazen new tactic would offer them some comfort or assurance.
“I will make sure that provisions for your journey are made ready,” Sylvanus told her. “And on the morrow we will see you off with a grand feast.”
“That isn’t necessary,” she protested.
“Perhaps not,” he shrugged, “but we will do it nevertheless.”
“Thank you,” she conceded, her eyes flashing just beyond his face to where Him waited to catch her gaze again. She looked away, the shy, yet delighted grin she wore drawing at her entire face. “You have done so much for me already,” she said, returning her attention to Sylvanus. “I hope one day I am able to repay you for your generosity.”
A slow, lingering nod from Sylvanus followed, and he said, “Though a small, trifle of a debt, I am sure you will repay it tenfold.”
They arrived once more outside the door of Sylvanus’s dwelling, and he gestured for her to precede him through the entrance. Meredith obliged and stepped into the house. Though it was definitely an indoors setting, everything about it so closely mimicked nature, that she wondered if some otherworldly magic had been employed to twist the elements together effortlessly.
“I will have Niliel show you to your sleeping quarters, and if you find you need anything at all through the night, please feel free to seek out one of the servants.” Sylvanus instructed.
“Thank you,” she said. “For everything you have done, thank you.”
“May the moon light the pathway to your dreams,” he bowed his head and reached out to take her hand in his. He brought it against his lips, and then met eyes with her once more before gesturing for Niliel to see her off.
She looked to Him then, a lingering and curious stare shared by them both as she felt Niliel’s hand on her forearm, leading her away from the vast foyer and toward a well-lit spiraled staircase. She craned her neck over her shoulder to catch one last glimpse before they turned around the stairs and she could no longer see the foyer at all.
“You’re making a complete fool of yourself, you know,” Sir Gwydion’s scolding echo followed them up the staircase.
“Well, you’re already a fool,” Him replied.
Her smile drew gently at the corners of her mouth, and she laughed as they wound a second spiral and stepped up onto the landing. The voices downstairs faded as their footsteps shuffled through the growing shadows of the corridor. Halfway down the hall Niliel stopped and opened a door, gesturing for Meredith to step inside first. She was once again amazed by the architectural beauty, and the subtle integrations of the outdoors within.
Inside the room she noticed that several twining trellises made up the base of the room, which at waist height opened up to the outdoors. Three of the five walls were open to the night, and the slow rustle of wind through the leaves could be heard just under the subtle exhale of her own breath. The other two walls closed out the night with wicker blinds, and against the furthest wall was a bed designed in the same twining, white trellis pattern. It spiraled up into a peaked headboard where pedestals lifted small candles, the only light in the room except the moonlight. There was a small desk there, and a comfortable chair overlooking the village below.
“If you find yourself in need of anything at all, please don’t hesitate to seek out one of the household staff,” Niliel repeated Sylvanus's invitation.
“Thank you,” Meredith nodded.
“Good night,” the other woman said, as she backed out of the room and pulled the door closed.
The soft gold light of the candles intertwined with the silver moonlight that streamed in shadowed, leaf patterns across the floor. Meredith gasped in wonder as she gazed up at the ceiling only to discover that there was no ceiling, only the wild and reaching branches acting as a canopy against inclement weather. It was beautiful, the most amazing and wonderful place she had ever been, and while the sad-reminder of the perilous journey that awaited her lingered in the back of her mind, Meredith found a part of herself never wanting to leave that most glorious and magical place.
Collapsing back onto the bed, she gazed between the shimmering leaves, occasionally glimpsing a view of distant starlight. Hands clasped across her waist, a sigh of contentment escaped her as she closed her eyes. She was safe for the moment, and somewhere she knew her sister was safe too, safe as long as Meredith herself were still alive. The overwhelming burden of the day’s events had been washed away in the bathhouse, and only peaceful dreams awaited her.
She closed her eyes and it was only moments before she felt light as air and surrounded by the most incredibly uplifting brightness.
She dreamed herself laying on a wisp of cloud in the gossamer moonlight, arms draped over the edge as she gazed down into lighted woods. From the camouflage of trees two eyes, round and beautiful, stared up into the sky as though a desperate longing prompted his search. Their eyes met, and a hand reached out to her. Without a moment’s hesitation she reached for that hand, tumbling lithely through the warm air until her body took flight and she soared back up again.
His bold laughter echoed all around her, as she looped and spiraled through the air, gliding once again toward the trees, toward his outstretched hand, toward Him.
Her fingers tangled with his and he brought her to the ground, drew her into his body, which radiated the very essence of the woods around them. One hand brushed a feathery strand of loose hair from her cheek, while the other spread across the small of her back to hold her there in place as he leaned in and pressed his lips against her forehead.
A shiver of desire rippled through her, her own reluctance to cross the line between men and women even in her dreams causing her hand to tremble as she lifted it against the smooth skin of his face. Tilted heads, eyes searching one another for the answer to some eternal question that had been nagging at them both until that moment in time, she parted her lips slowly, moistened them with the tip of her to
ngue, and in the moment it took for her to find her breath, he crushed her body against his and kissed her.
A shower of small leaves and spiraling seeds fell around them and somewhere far away was the sound of the most beautiful and haunting song she’d ever heard. A chorus of solemn voices reaching for the heavens echoed through the trees, through the valleys, climbing the very air as it ascended higher and higher.
It was this beautiful song that woke Meredith from the incredible dream, and as she breathed in, stretching into the comfortable mattress beneath her, the essence of the forest filled the room around her. Heavy lids blinked in slow reflection, and her lips still tingled with the repercussion of that dream. She’d never be able to look him in the eye come morning, she realized, a slow heat burning in her cheeks. She’d never forget the image of their closeness, of his hand lingering against her cheek, his hungry eyes and teasing kiss.
She closed her eyes again, the image still waiting for her as the swirling mists of dusk fell in over the sleeping village. The chorus of voices carried mournfully through, lulling her back into the vivid dream world that waited.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Morning mist swirled into her sleeping chambers in long trails, barely retreating as she stretched in the bed and opened her eyes. Beyond the dampened haze she sensed a distant burning sun, a dull luminescence of white-gold so far away she couldn’t feel its heat. She wasn’t cold though. In fact, she felt incredibly warm and well rested.
Everything Underground was alive with wonder, and that liveliness warmed a body from the soul out.
Her dreams offered equal warmth, and she tried to hide her giddy smile as memories of Him’s lips against hers trotted through her mind. She was only hiding from herself, which wouldn’t last for long. Soon she would be face to face with Him, and there was no telling what heated emotion would transpire in his presence after a night filled with dreams like that.
She closed her eyes again and rolled into the pillow. Flashes of memory sent shivers of delight rippling through her like raindrops on a still pool of water, his mouth on her mouth, his hands on her skin. The word sin was like a fiery beacon in her mind, but only for a moment, as the world she’d known only yesterday, and all of its dark implications faded.
The delight of her daydream was so powerful, it nearly carried her back to sleep, but then a quick rap rose against the wooden door, and she leaned upright to make sure she’d heard it. It sounded again, and she called out, “Yes?”
The door opened, and Niliel peeked inside. “Good morning, Lady Meredith.”
“Good morning.”
“I’m sorry to disturb you,” she said. “We are gathering to greet the dawn,” she announced. “I’ve brought your travel clothes and have been asked to bring you into the glen once you’ve dressed.”
“Of course,” Meredith agreed, throwing the quilt aside and climbing out of bed.
“I trust you slept well.” The other woman slipped into the room with a green tunic trimmed in silver and leather travel breeches over her outstretched arm.
She slipped out of the soft, comfortable gown she’d worn after her bath the night before and Niliel helped her dress.
Strange, she realized, how natural it felt to be dressed by another, though all her life she had never needed assistance. While Niliel’s deft fingers drew buttons through holes and worked leather strings to the perfect tightness, Meredith listened to the growing chorus of voices reaching out from the glen.
“We wake the sun every morning with song.” She did not even look up from her task as she said this.
“It's beautiful,” Meredith said.
Pulling through the final knot, Niliel stepped back and offered a genuine smile to her charge. “Come then,” she held a hand out. “Let us sing it together.”
They bustled through the empty household, out the door and on through the village. The song grew louder as they neared the dale, where everybody in the village had gathered. Some held their arms aloft, while others lifted their heads toward the sky, eyes closed as sunlight washed their faces. Hundreds of voices chorused together, climbing upward to meet the sun, but Meredith could only take it in, unsure of the words.
Her eyes darted over the crowd—Sylvanus with his eyes closed and lips curled into a wondrous grin as they called out ancient words of wonder. At his side, Him was similarly posed, while Sir Gwydion reached upward with symbolic longing for the light to embrace him.
Upon seeing Him, chills of shameful longing rippled across the back of Meredith’s neck, down her arms and legs, and she almost buckled under the tickle. As though he sensed her thoughts, or at least her presence, Him’s gaze drew toward her, a delighted grin finding his mouth.
He looked well rested, she noted, but there was a dangerous twinkle in his dark eyes that forced her to look away. She was suddenly conscious of her dreams again, of their mingling smells, the strength of his body as he pressed tight against her, arms crushing her close.
She worried that her face gave her desires away, but even that notion inspired a bewildered grin that wouldn’t leave her.
Distracted as she was, she tried to focus on the song and the strange words that spiraled inside her mind like arcane memories. It was familiar, and as she hummed the rhythm became effortless. She understood the meaning, and for a moment the song penetrated through the haze of forgotten memories. There was a flashing image in her mind of a familiar female beside her, her aunt, and the round, jovial face of her uncle—the man who had loved her as his own daughter, and yet sent her away from her world and her people.
A rising ache in her heart came on like the suffocation of unshed tears. One by one, the voices in the glen wound down until only the final note rang clear and the sun burned a small opening through the morning mist.
Sylvanus’s steady voice called out, “We praise your blessings of bountiful light.”
The village echoed in answer, “All hail bountiful light.”
And just like that the calm peace of a people in unity broke down into happy laughter, joyful greetings, excited chatter and thoughtful inquiries. Niliel left her side and rushed forward to meet with another, leaving Meredith alone amidst the boisterous village crowd. She jumped at the touch of a hand on her arm, and spun around to glimpse his laughing face.
“Good morrow, Lady.” Him bowed slightly to her, his eyes set upon hers.
“Good morning.”
They were so close. The pressure of bodies around them pushed them nearer than they should have been. As she drew in breath, Meredith smelled that wonderful essence, the musk of the forest after the rain, damp bark and plant life. It made her head spin, and for the moment she was grateful for the firm position of his hand on her shoulder.
“Are you all right?” He blinked slowly, surveying the crowd around them, and then returning his attention to her.
She nodded, “Fine.” She had to get a grip on herself. “I am still getting used to the air,” she started. “It’s so pure, it’s intoxicating.”
“Ah,” he nodded. “Might I walk you to the feast?”
“That would be wonderful.” She ignored the inner voice that rattled her insecurities and fell into step beside Him. Sir Gwydion lingered in the dell with a group of pixies. She glanced back at him and then asked, “Is that his family?”
“It’s a tad complicated, I suppose. You see that young one there?” Meredith followed the length of his slender finger, which he just as quickly withdrew when she nodded. “Five years ago he asked her father for her hand, but before he would grant permission, Gwydion was given a list of quests to complete.”
A hint of sorrow nagged at her. “Oh no.”
“He has one task left,” Him explained. “Now you understand why he’s so uptight. He’s on the verge of a lifelong commitment. See how her lip curls, how she already owns him… I think he may be having second thoughts.” And then he laughed, the soft sound of it curling around them as they walked.
“And what about you?” She dared to w
onder aloud. “Have you a wife, or perhaps a betrothed for whom you quest and recoil from so shrewdly?”
“Not me. I’m more of a free spirit,” he explained. “I’ve yet to find the one who could keep me in one place, though it’s strange as I think I’m suddenly closer than I’ve ever come to her before.”
At this, Meredith shuddered, for there was something wild in his eyes that suggested the dreams that haunted her sleep had not been entirely her own, that he too had been there experiencing the fire of a passion so deep, both bodies burned. She turned her head downward to hide the flush of warmth that painted her cheeks pink.
“And you’ve not mentioned a sweetheart in the Upland,” he noted, a lingering hint of curiosity in his statement.
“Because there is no one,” she said.
His face lengthened in disbelief. “You don’t say.”
“I do.”
“What luck!” He grinned. “The two of us completely unfettered...”
“Him,” Sylvanus called over his shoulder, dissolving their flirtation. “I have a task for you.”
Exasperated, Him excused himself with a roll of his eyes, and then trotted off to see to his brother’s needs. She watched after him, noticed as he darted off toward Sylvanus’s home, and felt an aching disappointment.
Sylvanus stepped into his place beside her and said, “We will break our fast in the hall,” he explained. “It has been long since we’ve had such a happy gathering.”
“I look forward to it,” she admitted, barely able to hide the hungry rumble inside her belly.
Sylvanus laughed at the sound, and together they entered the celebration hall.
Vast, endless tables decorated in lilies and daffodils, daisies, and tulips decorated the open hall. There were stacks of steaming cakes, sweet breads, puddings and crocks of jam beside berry-flavored syrups and honey. Dishes beyond her wildest imagination filled every table, and as Sylvanus arrived at the head of the longest, most elaborate table, he gestured for Meredith to have a seat on his left.
The Goblin Market (Into the Green) Page 10