by Jane M. R.
“But your symbol is now a dragon. What did it start as?”
“A crow.”
I see those symbols. I see the rest too: a tree, fire, the sun, the moon, a rainbow. Those symbols must have remained the same. “What about that mermaid looking thing holding a trident?”
“A fish.”
“And why are all the wizards male?”
“Ye art so curious.”
“I’m never coming back so I’m going to pester you as much as possible.” I say it with as much annoyance as I can, despite knowing and agreeing that there is good reason why I am not coming back.
“The Fae tell us tis not the role of females. Females giveth life. Men must protect it.”
“Did you ever ask them a second time about sending more wizards?”
We stop at a table decked with cakes and pies, deceivingly real so I reach for a steaming slice of peach pie. My hand passes right through.
“Yea.”
I wait for him to respond. He doesn’t. So now I fear that he is going to spell himself and lock himself in his vault because society is not ready for him to go looking for people to volunteer to be wizards if Life would but grant them that. But I won’t ask to verify this. It’s better not knowing the truth, sometimes.
We leave the Grand Hall, up to the roof where I have actually never been. The music from the Grand Hall fades as we enter upon the roof. There are people and a quartet here too, with torches for light and a fountain spewing intangible water. The fountain must have been done with relocation magic to keep it moving back in the Middle Ages.
“This is brilliant.” I clasp hands in front of me and look at the moon. A… herd? Flock? Of pegasi silhouette against the moon as they soar over.
“Forgive me. Tis not much of a farewell for thee.”
I slap his shoulder. “You’re addled if you think this is not amazing.”
“I guess ye didst nary think it wast amazing either when ye saw me causing water to spin down the toilet.”
True enough.
He sits at the edge of the fountain next to a wicker basket. He unfolds a cloth covering the top.
“Oh. It’s real.”
“Hard to tell?” He pulls out a glass bottle with a dark liquid.
I’m tickled that he’d think ahead to have a picnic ready for us. I sit next to the basket, watching the pegasi dart away as a dragon falls in behind them. I perk. “Real or memory?”
“Memory.” He pours liquid into one of the wooden goblets.
The sky reverberates with a roar from the large beast as he passes over, rattling my ribcage. I shoot him a hard look. “Real?”
“It wast that night.”
“You have an incredible memory.” I lean back as the green dragon flies right over us.
“My memories art what kept me sane in the vault.”
“How are you doing this anyway? Is this a level of transformation, illusion, or relocation?”
“Relocation. I relocated my memory out of my head to be seen before my eyes.”
“Then how am I able to see it? How do you take something totally invisible and make it visible?”
“Ye knoweth the short answer to that one?” He hands me one of the goblets. Mine has a knight on horseback carved into the wood. “Magic.” He lifts his own mug to mine. The wood thumps when they touch and Zadicayn proceeds to drink his like water.
I take a sip, flooding my mouth with a sweet nutty flavor, reminding me of almonds with a citrus after-melody. “What is this?”
“Fae wine.”
“Are we going to get drunk?”
“Tis nary alcoholic. There tis nary a word in the Fae language to mean ‘juice’.”
I take another sip, playing with the flavor on my tongue. It foams before I swallow.
He lays out cheeses and crackers on the folded cloth.
The music on the roof cries out soft and earnest. I watch the couples dance close, much closer than Queen Victoria would advise, which is why the Waltz is still under scrutiny. There aren’t many people up here, likely just the rogue few who prefer to keep their love private.
I want to say something… say how much I’m going to miss this, miss Zadicayn, miss being shown other worlds and people that do not judge me if I’m not tied into a dress. Most times, lately, I envy Joseara who had even admitted at one point she did not envy me. But I can’t say any of that without losing hold of my conviction that I can’t stay here.
So tears swell in my throat instead. I drown them with a healthy swallow of Fae wine and look across the vale. The flock of pegasi still spin around the area. I spot the green dragon perched on the rocky slop of the nearest mountain, its head thrashing up and down vigorously. It looks like it is eating something.
“Is that dragon eating?” Dragons are carnivores and nothing dies in the Fae Realm.
“Eating the branch from a Tree Fae who must hast given it to him.” He sets his goblet beside him and leans back. “Ye can nary die in the Fae Realm, so ye can nary starve to death. But ye shalt still hunger and get lonely because immortality dost nary mute those things. The dragons art tired of feeling hungry and Life knows it. Which tis why they art trying to find a realm for the dragons to finally live in.”
“Did dragons used to live in the Human Realm? We have drawings and stories about them.”
“Yea. During my time, in fact. They wert killed off almost to extinction because knights thought them a hearty prize for prowess.”
“I would think we would have more than just drawings and made up stories now to prove they existed.”
“Wast nary the need to write more about them. They wert as normal as a dog. Further, we couldst nary print books like ye can now, and most, except for nobles, wert illiterate, so that tis why ye have nary books about them.”
He pauses to take a drink, draining his goblet and I have this unfounded fear that my time with him is draining with every gulp.
“I see you got the blood out of your coat.” Calling it the blood helps to keep illusionary that it is not one specific person’s blood. “Did you relocate it out?”
He fumbles with his goblet. I’m relieved when he refills it. My time has started over. “I hath an idea. Joseara tis drained of blood. My coat drank a lot of it. When I relocated it out, the thought came to me that if I can purify it…” He trails off as if leaving for me to guess. My head is all spun up on the minutes counting down that I’m having a hard time connecting things. “If I can purify it, I can relocate it back into her body. It shan’t be all her blood, so I shalt hast to mix a bit of mine in with it. Though that mighten react adversely for her if she comeths into the Human Realm whence such things mayest be harmful. I dost nary wit how another person wouldst react having wizard blood in them who tis nary a wizard.”
“I’ll offer up my own blood,” I perk.
“I wit.” He drinks from his goblet. Which is short answer for, No. You can’t stay here passed the allotted hour nor come back another time.
“But that is a remarkable idea. I’m sure glad you are able to care for her. I hope your idea works.”
“I thank thee. And now tis time to take ye back.”
“I’m not ready.”
“Ye shalt nary ever be ready.”
He’s already packing away our picnic. I should have asked for a refill to prolong this because he snatches my empty goblet and packs it away, too.
I feel too heavy to move. My shoulders sag. He stands up. I jump to my feet and embrace him. One. Last. Time.
He’s not returning the embrace. A deep growl rumbles in his throat. Stop tempting me with all that I can nary have. I’m not trying to tempt him. I’m trying to retain nights before a kitchen fire in a castle I discovered, a freedom I could escape to, a wizard who had freed me as certain as I had freed him. I’m trying to engrain this all into my skin, trying to pack this all inside me so I can finally not be sad that it is over, but happy because it happened. I was, even if just briefly, myself unshackled.
This
embrace feels much like embracing Durain. Final. Knowing he is going to leave my life forever but neither of us able to stop it.
“Brine,” he sounds breathless in my ear. “Ye need to go now.”
I don’t know how to go. I don’t know how to break this embrace and go the rest of my life with this only as a memory.
“Brine…”
It’s been a moment. Maybe longer. I still don’t know how to do this.
His heart rate rises against my chest. His jaw is pressed against my cheek and I feel it clench. “Brine… ye need to go. Now.”
I don’t want to do this. I can’t do this. I’m not strong enough to sober in an instant after so long of such a mind-altering drug. The worst thing Durain every did to me was give me the key to open this door. I hate Durain.
“Brine…”
The mild scruff of his jawline slides against my own. He’s breaking the embrace. I hug him tighter. I’m not ready yet. Not yet. One more minute. One more day. He stops backing away. His arms finally encompass me, one hand sliding to the back of my head. His jaw slides over and he presses my mouth against his.
It takes me longer than it should to realize what he’s doing, but by then the liquid heat is already spiraling through my veins and knifing against my pelvis. I’ve lost feeling in my legs and if it wasn’t for him holding me up I would have collapsed.
He’s not stopping. He takes command of my hips and my arms have ended up around his neck. What is this glory? This unabashed flare of intensity hot enough to bust chains and drive kings to their knees?
My back is pushed against the wall. That’s okay. It helps sink me deeper into him. I can’t breathe. I don’t need to breath. I just need to feel and burn and my skin has become a barrier.
Cold and wind slaps me. My knees buckle but I catch myself before I hit the roof, looking up in time to watch Zadicayn’s blue coat vanish through the doorway back into the castle.
Part of my body has died because nothing is willing to move except for my lips throbbing with the hunger of his kiss. He kissed me. Wanton and forbidden. I’m still so dazed I can’t feel the sin of it yet.
“Zadi – Zadicayn?” Like syrup, my voice sticks in my throat.
As if he drank the strength out of me, I have to use the wall for support to walk to the doorway until my knees fire back to life. I begin down the stairs but I’ve lost sight of him. I don’t know where to look until I hear crashing noises coming from a room down the corridor. I reach the door. The door handle is melted into a formless lump. The crashing noises come again, like wood busting against a wall.
“Zadicayn?”
The noises don’t stop. I can’t check the door knob to see if it is locked because it is gone. He’s trapped himself in there.
“Zadicayn!” I kick the door. The noises continue, along with some Old English words I don’t understand but spoken with such vehemence I can easily imagine they are curses.
I put my back against the door and slide down. The thunder he put in my veins rumbles inside my heart. Raw and wild my heart wants to break out of me and run on its own to expel all this energy. I’m waiting for that moment when the weight of this sin will crash over me, but it is slow in coming, though my conviction to marry Jaicom has long fled.
My heart still thrums frantically, searching for kindling to feed this flame. I lay on my side and press my nose against the bottom of the door. “Zadicayn!”
The destruction of furniture continues on the other side.
“I love you!”
Silence drops so suddenly I think he has fainted. Then boots scrape toward me. Zadicayn lays down, one gold eye looking at me from beneath the door. His gold irises are the only thing reminding me we are still in the Fae Realm.
“Brine…” His smoky voice puffs at me from beneath the door. He rolls onto his back and puts his hands behind his head so all I see is his elbow. “Forgive my broken self. My irrational impulse broke the chain and got too far ahead of me. I grabbed it as fast as I couldst. My loneliness and need for touch overpowered me and ye shouldst nary hast been the one to take the blow. I dost nary want to confuse ye. I can nary provide for thee like ye need.”
I start to protest but he drives over me. “Ye wouldst nary be able to see thy family least I be discovered and ye harmed like Joseara. Forgive me. Ye wert the victim of my unbridled wants. Ye shouldst go now.”
“Zadicayn –”
“Really. Ye shouldst go.” He rolls over onto his knees.
“I can’t leave unless you escort me. We are still in the Fae Realm, remember?” I look up as a two women and a man walk behind me. They are not real but that does not stop me from blushing at being caught laying on my stomach and talking under a door. “And I’m not leaving.”
Disconcerting sounds mumble through the wood. I see his eye again. “Didst ye nary hear anything I just said?”
“Did you not hear me? I just said I love you.”
“I shalt escort ye out in the morning.” He turns to roll over again.
“No, Zadicayn.” I surprise myself with the ferocity of which I powered the word. “I want this. Your kiss was the key to the lock I could not open myself. I need to love the man I marry. I need him to love me back. I don’t love Jaicom. I never have. He doesn’t even love me so I can’t fathom why he asked to marry me but I accepted because it wasn’t looking like anyone else would marry me and woman in my society have to get married or they will end up living on the street.”
I talk quickly so he can’t interrupt me, which he tries to do. “I think people should kiss like that so they can honestly tell if they love you. I’ve thought about kissing Jaicom and I want to vomit. You kissed me and I want to run around the castle because of this energy it put inside me. I don’t care about my family. They are the ones who should care about me and what I want. I don’t want a husband who has a job. I want a husband who sets my heart free.”
I tense at what I’m going to say next. “I… I’ve been in love with you for a while. I just had to smother it because I didn’t think it was possible because I was following a path people expected me to follow and I didn’t know how to step off. But I know how now. I’m stepping off the path and doing what I want and not what I am expected to do. And I want you. I want to live in this castle, I –”
I stall beneath the tear sliding down his cheek. He rolls onto his back and lays an arm across his eyes. His shoulders heave under his quiet sobs. He rolls away and stands, walking away from the door to somewhere I cannot see.
CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR
ZADICAYN
I allow the tears to come. Allow them to fill me and cause me to shake and wrestle. My emotional snakes are going haywire. Soon they are going to escape and wrap around my neck to strangle me.
It is too much to believe I won’t be alone for the rest of my life. Harder still to trust my fantasies aren’t leading me on to believe I could be loved as well, to be loved romantically, to share whispers in the night and caresses in private places. Brine’s voice still clings under the door. I don’t know if she is still there.
My thrumming heart won’t let me sleep. I want to believe she is telling the truth, that she is not saying those things in a fit of passion that will grow cold throughout the night.
“Zadicayn. Come out.”
Still there. Enough time passes so I think she has left until she says, “There are a lot of places in the Fae Realm I could hid for two days.”
I can’t fathom what that means right now. Until a scuffle outside my door signals her standing.
I leap to my feet, nearly tripping in my dash to the door and the melted handle. I spit out a spell to relocate the whole door. It comes off its hinges with a fight and falls over. I run into the corridor to see her run around the corner. I sprint.
Her swirl of brown hair flares behind her like a battle standard. She runs down the stairs, lower and lower into the castle.
Breathless, I chase her. She races down the stairs into the parish, into the room where
the lid of the altar is still off, open to my vault beneath.
I stop at the top of the stairs as if confronted with a wall.
She runs toward the vault but stops, looking behind her.
My eyes lock onto the altar, cold sweat breaking over my body. I can’t go down the stairs. Can’t even look. I sink to the floor on the top step.
She walks back toward me, hands clasped reverently in front of her. “You okay?”
Pin pricks of darkness speckle my vision as I try contain the terror of the vault from breaking lose and consuming me. “Ye – yea.”
She stops at the bottom step. “We are in the Fae Realm. I can’t starve or thirst to death, so unless you come down here and drag me back all the way to my house kicking and screaming, I’m not leaving.”
“Nary, Brine. I can nary let ye stay.” I blink to keep the dark pin-pricks at bay.
“Then come down and take me. Kicking and screaming. All the way to my house.”
“Dost nary make this harder on me.”
She makes a noise and grabs her hair. “You’re not listening to me! I. Don’t. Want. To. Go. I made my choice. I’m not marrying Jaicom. I knew it all along but I couldn’t make myself actually decide against it. I want you, Zadicayn. I’ve wanted you since you danced with me at the Ball.”
I force a laugh before the hot shudders of vault-terror blind me. “Nary before? All that monkey hair didst nary invite ye to stroke thy fingers through it all?”
“I didn’t find you attractive with all that hair but I actually liked you a little then, too. Something about your alluring Old English and the way I just felt so satisfied and complete around you. That’s why I accidently confused you when I accepted your flirts but didn’t tell you I was being courted by another man. I liked you. I just couldn’t allow myself to accept it, but I didn’t want you to stop, either.”
I tap my head against the wall behind me, waiting for the moment my body is going to explode and shower Brine in all that I do not know how to say what I want.