by Amy Sumida
“It was when you finished your last song, and then fell over from exhaustion.” Torin stood, then shouted, “Breakfast!”
And a massive scurrying began. The sleeping fairies began to awaken as well, rubbing at bleary eyes and helping each other up. Some stumbled off, but most just crawled to a table and sprawled across it, waiting for the food to arrive.
We had evidently partied a bit hard the night before.
“Right.” I recalled drinking an excessive amount of fairy wine, then singing.
I sang and sang and sang until everything went dark. Evidently that was what passing out felt like. I frowned and tried to get up, but the world wobbled.
“Easy now.” Torin helped me back into the throne. “Just relax. We'll have breakfast here shortly.”
Had I really spent a whole day singing? Wait . . . Nope. I also drank and ate a little bit. Then I sang. Then I drank and danced. Then I sang some more. It had gone on that way till late in the night. Or possibly early in the morning. I'm a little fuzzy on the time. I think I may have even sung some Gaga. Oh dear gods.
“But this is your throne,” I protested. “I shouldn't be sitting in it.”
“It's just a piece of furniture,” Torin shrugged, and took the smaller seat beside mine. With him in it, it suddenly seemed to be a more intimidating chair. “That hunk of wood doesn't make me king. Nor does a crown for that matter.” He gestured pointedly at his bare head. “If I relied upon such things to rule, I'd never have been able to build this castle in the first place.”
“You built this place?”
“Many years ago”-Torin shrugged-“with a lot of help. But yes, it was my design. Everything in my castle is here because I wish it to be. And everyone.” He reached over, and took my hand, then surprised me by laying a kiss on it.
“Sweet baby Jesus.” I jerked my hand away from him. “It's way too fucking early in the morning for you to be kissing my hand.”
“I think it's perfectly appropriate after the night we shared.” He smirked. “In fact, I think your hand is the least of what I should be kissing.”
“Half of yesterday is a blur to me,” I narrowed my eyes on him. “What did you put in that wine?”
“Magic,” he said, again with that duh tone. “Give yourself a few minutes to clear your head, and then it should come back to you.”
“Right, of course.” I rolled my eyes. “That's why Cerberus says to never drink with a fairy.”
“We prefer the term 'Shining Ones.'” Torin teased, but then he frowned. “Who is Cerberus?”
“You haven't heard of the three-headed dog who guards Hades?” I was a little shocked. I mean, the guy had a sweet sound system, but he didn't know Greek mythology?
“I know the myth, yes,” Torin said. “I've even heard of the man. Works in security, correct?”
“Owns a security company, yeah.” I smirked. “He's damn good at it too.”
“How could he not be?” Torin's face went aloof. “He is a guard dog after all.”
“Hey!” I pointed in his face. “Watch how you talk about my friend.”
“Friend or lover?” Torin narrowed his eyes on me.
I froze with my finger right beneath Torin's nose, and then I laughed. Torin scowled even more fiercely. Which made me laugh harder.
“Seriously?” I leaned back in the throne and regarded him. “You've known me a whole day, and you're already jealous? That's adorable.”
I wasn't going to contemplate my own jealousy over Nila.
“More than a day,” Torin muttered, “and we've had a few moments. I thought . . .” He shrugged and looked away.
“We had a few moments?” I laughed again, and he started to get up in a huff. I grabbed his hand and pulled him back into his seat. “Relax, Onyx.” I shook my head at him. “I'm not dating Cerberus. We've been friends for most of my life. I wouldn't risk it with him.”
“Oh.” He sniffed.
“Adorable,” I said again.
“Do you deny that we connected last night?” Torin turned to me with an intense stare.
“Yeah, it was fun.” I smiled at a servant who placed a mug of coffee before me. “Oh, you wonderful woman,” I said to her. “How did you know exactly what I needed?”
“A lot of visitors from the human world like this brew.” She giggled, laid out a silver pitcher of cream, and a bowl of sugar, then ran away.
I mixed some cream and sugar into the coffee, sipped it, then sighed in delight.
“Fun?” Torin huffed. “What about the gardens?”
“The gardens?” I frowned into my coffee.
Then it all came rushing back. The gardens. My eyes widened. I'd done something naughty with Torin in the gardens, hadn't I? Oh damn, I'd gone and made out with a Shining One. A king! A shiny king! Damn. And it was good too. Double damn. He'd tasted like red wine and cinnamon. Damn, damn, damn. I swallowed hard, remembering when I'd brushed a certain part of Torin's anatomy with my hand. It was as impressive as the rest of him. Damn his fairy wine and damn me! At least our clothes had stayed on- no harm done really. But honestly, I was a little disappointed that our first kiss had occurred while we'd both been under the influence of magic alcohol.
And now Torin would really be certain that we were going to get together. But then hadn't that been my plan? I was going to lure him into a false sense of security, possibly by seducing him, and then bail. Except now there was this relic thing that I may, or may not, believe I was connected to. Perhaps leaning toward the may.
“Yes, uh . . .” I cleared my throat. “That was a bit more than fun. Sloppy on my part, and potentially embarrassing, but definitely more than just fun.”
“I don't recall anything sloppy or embarrassing.” He scowled. “We talked for hours before our more intimate interlude. Or did the wine wipe that away too?”
“Uh . . .” I blinked as I thought back.
Oh yeah. I had told him things. Personal things. Why did I do that? The memory rose in full clarity.
“Through here,” Torin's voice echoed to life inside my head.
He was smiling softly, secretly, as he led me up the stairs to his private, roof-top garden. We'd gone through his bedroom to get there, offering me a good look at his enormous bed along the way. My stomach clenched as the memory rolled onward.
A midnight sky scattered with more stars than I'd ever seen. Wind sighing through the intricate designs of onyx partitions. Moonlight stroking sleeping flowers, shimmering over the night-blooming blossoms. There were spots of brilliant white, soft lavender, and pale blue in the velvet shadows. Fragrance more delicate, and more complex, than any expensive perfume, wafted through the air. A seductress calling to her lovers. The stone of the roof had ended at the edge of the garden, where a ledge was surmounted by stairs. I climbed them with Torin, and realized that the whole garden sat in a massive planter.
Trees shivered in the slight breeze, grass cushioned our steps, and a night bird cooed softly to its mate. A gazing pool was set in the exact center of the garden, with a small circle of bare grass surrounding it, and three onyx benches placed at precise distances apart, in the grass ring. This was where Torin led me, to sit on one of the cool, polished seats beneath the open sky, before the mirrored surface of the pool. It was filled to the exact level of the grass around it, so that it seemed to be an extension of the earth. If you weren't careful, you could easily slip into the water.
“This is my sanctuary,” Torin had whispered to me as he stared contentedly around the garden.
“And you brought me here?”
“I had the urge to share it with you.” He shrugged.
“It's beautiful,” I offered. “It reminds me a little of where I grew up. Though there's no ocean nearby to salt the air.”
“You lived by the sea?”
“I lived on an island.” I smiled. “I still do, though it's far different from the one I was raised on.”
“What was your first island like?” Torin's eyes had gone as liquid a
s the pool before us, and I felt a sudden urge to tell him. To speak of things I normally didn't like to talk about.
“The island was beautiful,” I whispered, caught by his intense gaze. “It was full of magic, as my entire childhood was. I have no right to complain.”
“But you were unhappy?”
“No.” I found myself staring into the mirrored water, seeing my childhood play across the surface. “Not exactly. I didn't understand why we were so isolated. Why there were no other children on our island. No other people at all. Just my parents and me, and the occasional siren visitor.”
“It was your magic,” he guessed.
“Yes,” I said. “As soon as my mother conceived, she knew she would bear a spellsinger. It's simple genetics. When witches breed with sirens, this is what you get.” I waved a hand toward myself. “I was the first spellsinger to be born in five hundred years, and each one before me had shown erratic growth with their magic. My parents isolated us to protect me, and everyone else, until I could learn to control my power. But at the time, I'd thought there was something wrong with me. Like I had been born bad and had to be hidden.”
“I understand.” Torin swallowed hard. “Our parents do their best for us, but they don't have as much control over our lives as they would like. Several things can turn paradise into hell, all beyond a parent's control.”
“That sounds like personal experience.” I slipped my hand into his, and his gaze jerked back to mine.
Torin searched my eyes for awhile before answering, “I was isolated as well, but mine was more of an ostracization than a physical remoteness.”
“You were ostracized?” I blinked in surprise. “You?”
“Me.” He gave a mirthless laugh. “I'm not entirely fey.” His arm lifted, as if to display the obviousness of that statement. “Mixed blood usually doesn't bother the Shining Ones. As long as you have some fey blood in you, that's enough. There are more important things than purity. Things like magic and beauty.”
“Well, you have both of those in spades,” I grimaced.
“Thank you.” His lips twisted in a sweet smile. “But my beauty wasn't the right variety.”
“It's okay for you to be different, as long as you don't look it?” I asked with a little anger on his behalf.
“Precisely.” He turned my hand over in his palm, laying it upright before cradling it between both of his. “I was so much bigger than the other children. And my face was too... feral. That's the word they used most often.”
“Fucking kids.” I shook my head. “They can be so cruel. Maybe I was better off on my island.”
“Maybe,” he shrugged, “but I don't regret my childhood. I had love from my parents to support me through any viciousness those children offered me. And those trials, those rejections, made me stronger. I'm grateful for them now. They gave me a valuable perspective on my own kind, and those friends I did make, I knew were true.”
“That's a pretty Zen attitude to take,” I noted. “I suppose all those children changed their tune when you grew up and became a king?”
“Oh yes.” He chuckled, a low, satisfied sound. “I remember vividly the first time one of my childhood tormentors approached me. She had matured into a beautiful fey woman, and she thought her beauty would be enough to sway me into forgetting our past. She tried to seduce me.”
“You told her to shove it where the fairy sun don't shine?” I asked with a wide smile.
“In a manner of speaking.” He laughed loudly, and the sound echoed around us. It was a little startling in the quiet night, but I loved it. It was the sound of triumph.
“Good for you,” I curled my fingers over his, and shared the victory with him. That small, harmless vengeance that nonetheless tasted so sweet.
I let go of the memory on that happy note.
Torin had vowed that he was grateful for his harsh childhood, but I knew immediately that this was the reason he was so arrogant. He had bonded with onyx because he'd been born with protection magic, and that's exactly what his cocky attitude was about- protection. His flippant way of flirting ensured that he could laugh off a woman's rejection. Torin could simply pretend that he wasn't really interested, and then scorn her arrogantly.
But Torin had been truly interested in me. He had dropped his arrogance last night, and let me see the man behind the onyx mask. A man with vulnerabilities just like mine, despite the power he held. And it was unbelievably sexy. That was what had compelled me to kiss him. Yes, I had kissed him. I recalled it now vividly- the way his lips had parted slightly as I moved closer, the way his hand hesitantly lifted to my cheek. There had been stars reflected briefly in his eyes before I had eclipsed their light, and I couldn't decide which I preferred; the star-filled eyes or those full of my shadows. I remembered the feel of Torin's breath on my lips just before I pressed my mouth to his. His tongue was velvet against mine, and his fingers like dictators in my hair- demanding, pulling, and directing me. Our chests were pressed tight together, hearts pounding through our clothing to synchronize their beats, and it seemed as if nothing would quench the heat between us.
It was a hell of a first kiss.
“I remember it now,” I cleared my throat. “That was . . . special.”
“Humph.” Torin settled back. “All right then. I thought we could leave in a few hours. That will give us enough time to eat, bathe, and prepare for the journey.”
“Journey? What journey?” I scowled at him, a little hazy after experiencing the rush of memory. Did he want me to go somewhere? I didn't have enough caffeine in me yet to even think about standing, much less taking a trip. No coffee, no walkee.
“To the relic of course.” Torin scowled back.
“Who said I was going to claim that thing?” I growled at him as the urge to get up, and start running toward the relic, nearly consumed me. Crap, simply talking about it was too much for me to handle.
“You did, last night.” Torin was slowly beginning to understand that I had been a bit more affected by all that fairy wine than he'd been.
“Yeah, well, I don't do favors for my jailer.” I held up my onyx-bound wrists. The steel coating glinted in accusation.
Torin stared at the bracelets long enough for me to drop them, and then he continued to stare. I sipped my coffee, and he followed the movement up to my face. Then he stared into my eyes. Like he could see the future in them. I was beginning to get really uncomfortable, when he pulled a silver key out of his pocket.
“Give me your wrists,” Torin said softly.
“What? Really?”
“Yes, Elaria,” he sighed. “I'm choosing to trust you, to trust in the woman I got to know last night. I already told you, I don't want you to be my prisoner. How do you think it feels for me to kiss a woman whom I've bound?”
“I don't know,” I whispered. “Kinky?”
“It feels reprehensible.” Torin ignored my horrible attempt at humor, and took my left wrist. He inserted the little key into the tiny lock, and opened the bracelet. “It feels wrong. I don't want to force you in any way. Not to remain here, or to be with me, or to claim the relic. But please remember that we're not only fighting to save Tír na nÓg; we're in a battle for the safety of all the worlds. And we truly need you, Elaria.”
The other bracelet came off, and he slipped them into his pocket. Then he just stared at me, waiting for me to do something. Anything.
“That key has been in your pocket this entire time?” I snapped. “I could have taken it off you when you were passed out at my feet.”
Torin laughed, relaxing a bit. “Except that you passed out first, and I awaken very easily.”
“Awaken easily while looking like a Calvin Klein model,” I muttered.
“What was that?” Torin's smile turned into a smirk.
“Nothing.” I rubbed at my free wrists. “I may want to borrow those sometime.”
Torin lifted his brows.
“So I can sing again,” I explained. “I told you I had fun.�
�
“They're yours.” He pulled them out of his pocket, along with the key, and handed me the lot.
“Thanks.” I stuffed them into one of my skirt pockets.
“My pleasure.” Torin gave me a sexy smile, then thanked the servants, who placed platters of steaming food on the table before us. He filled a plate, set it before me, then casually asked me, “So, the relic?”
“Yeah, give me a few hours,” I muttered with my mouth full.
Torin smiled wider, cutting into his meal with gusto.
Chapter Seventeen
The journey to Relic Mountain (as I was calling it in my head) had to be done furtively. We'd be passing through some kingdoms that were known Sapphire sympathizers, and Torin didn't want to attract any attention. So we all donned some rugged clothing (leather pants, cotton tunics, and leather vests) and tried to look as plain as possible. By “we,” I mean Torin, myself, and four of his knights. I found it interesting that he had other gem users in his Guard, not just onyx. There were knights wearing bloodstones, Fluorites, labradorites, and even diamonds, in addition to a large onyx pin that proclaimed their allegiance. I found that strange. I knew the Shining Ones lived in whatever kingdom they wished, but I'd thought that generally those with more power gravitated to the kingdoms whose stones they aligned with.
When I asked Torin about this assortment, he'd said that he believed it was wise to have a diverse selection of abilities in his personal Guard. Onyx was great for protection, but it wasn't a stone for any kind of offensive attack. The men in his Guard had more aggressive magics, and therefore bonded with more aggressive stones. There were a few exceptions of course, one of them being the Fluorite knight, who used his stone's energy to enhance his mental abilities, and for a bit of good luck. Torin said a little good luck never hurt.
He had also advised me to bring my music. So my iPod was tucked into an inner pocket of my leather jerkin. I had some thick boots on my feet, Sara had braided back my long hair, and I even had a little dagger hanging off my belt. I felt like Robin Hood. And Torin kind of looked like a hot Little John. I shook my head at that. Torin could wear the plainest clothes around, but nothing could disguise his thick build. Maybe he could hunch in on himself when he was in the saddle.