Gale Season

by Marie Harte

  Knowing she probably looked like an idiot, Alandra threw caution to the wind and relaxed the hold on her magic. A sense of freedom filled her as she felt the familiar stirring of wings at her back. A mystical presence, her wings were the purest part of her magic that could manifest physically.

  Increasing the desire to fly, to lose herself in feeling, she flexed her back and knew the pleasure of creation. Glancing over her shoulder, she noted two fine, down-like wings that shimmered as if covered with glitter. From several inches above her head to her calves, her wings had been likened to angel down and butterfly silk by even the haughtiest of the royal Aellei.

  Needing to express her complete delight with her life at the moment, she flapped her wings and rose off the floor. The rapid movement stirred the air, fanning the unrefined magic she saw lying about the house like small piles of gold in forgotten corners. As her wings moved, the magic gravitated to her, increasing the beauty of her newfound liberty.

  “I do so love the wind,” she said on giddy breath and twirled around. Unbidden came the thought that she’d chosen the right Storm Lord to watch. Aerolus controlled the winds, and he had an obvious talent for stirring trouble as well as air—a talent her rule-abiding Wind Mage would no doubt deny.

  Smiling, she toyed with her dimensions, shrinking to the size of a sprite, then growing back into her normal frame. Shadow’s Mark, but she hadn’t felt so carefree in years! Visions of Aerolus naked and in bed lifted her higher, making her long to recreate last night.

  “Aerolus Storm,” she said with a smile, lusting after him anew as his name rolled from her lips. She shrank to the size of a walnut. “I could really grow to lo—”

  “What will it take to convince you creatures to leave well enough alone?” a gritty voice rumbled before smacking her into the refrigerator door with enough force to snap the magic in her left wing.

  She cried out and fell, the attack stimulating her reserve to fight. Instinctively growing to her normal size and losing the wings, she turned and glared at her attacker, rage at his intrusion ridding her of the fear she should have felt.

  “Well, if it isn’t Arim the mighty.” She swore heatedly as clarity descended with a sharp twist under the sting of his soundless assault. That bastard! She tried flexing her magic and grew dizzy, the pain unbearable. That he had literally clipped her freedom made her see red, and she felt an astonishing urge to do him physical harm.

  How typical of a Light Bringer to taint the simple pleasures in life. Glaring, she threw her hands in his direction, her fingers splayed wide, and demanded recompense for his detestable presence.

  A blast of wind suddenly shot from her fingertips, the fury of air growing until the kitchen filled with several mini-tornadoes destroying everything in their path.

  Arim smashed into the ceiling, three walls and the floor twice before he could shield himself, incurring several bruises and a bloodied lip when he fell to the floor. The way he looked at her from beneath his dark black hair gone askew reminded her of Aerolus, and as quickly as her anger had flared, it faded.

  Though she liked to play games, she didn’t like causing undue harm. Arim had instigated trouble, certainly. But from his perspective, she was the intruder. No doubt she’d feel aggravated were their positions reversed.

  However, her spontaneous reprisal had stoked an unnecessary and dangerous response from the one person she’d been taught never to confront. Stupid, stupid, stupid. When would she learn to think before she acted?

  She could see red pulses of rage burning in Arim’s aura, and her worry grew. He meant to destroy her. She still couldn’t believe she’d knocked him around, and with wind, no less. Where the hell had that come from? Alandra was no warrior. She was, truth be told, a scholar with a penchant for mischief.

  Hurriedly constructing a shield of Shadow, she gasped and jerked under Arim’s massive jolt of Light. Seething in a quiet that alarmed her more than if he’d shouted and threatened, he pummelled her with too much magic to absorb, overwhelming her senses with the sheer rage he projected.

  Weakened to the point of panic, she understood, too late, just whom she had dared attack: Arim the Light Bringer, Killer of Shadow.

  Arim raised one arm, his hand spread as he gathered the latent magic around him. His eyes were no longer black but swirling in myriad colours, so totally foreign from anything she’d ever seen that fear bloomed and took root as she stared into the face of her death.

  “What’s going on in here?”

  She spun around to see Aerolus and noted that Arim turned as well, his eyes still doing that funky kaleidoscope thing. Not sure if he was fully in control of himself, she instinctively lowered her shield to dart between him and Aerolus, her impulse to protect her lover greater than her need to protect herself.

  In that instant Arim attacked.

  The pain was intolerable. She could barely think as ice burned a hole in her chest and spread to her limbs, freezing her attempt to flee, to fear, to even care anymore. Her bones stretched, and her flesh began to sink, the cold drying her from the inside out. Cracks fissured the skin around her eyes and mouth and beams of light speared through.

  Yet amid the pain and the fear, thoughts of losing Aerolus tortured her more than the knowledge she was dying.

  * * * *

  “Arim, stop!” Aerolus tried, but his uncle was oblivious to everything but destroying Alandra. Her face twisted in pain, and her eyes sought Aerolus’, not with a plea to make it stop, but with a strange regret.

  “By the Light, Uncle, cease!”

  Arim blinked, a sign he’d finally heard Aerolus, but did not stop his attack.

  “Shit.” Making a snap decision, Aerolus stepped between Arim and Alandra, freezing as Arim’s power sought a hold into his being. Under the magical onslaught, he recognised the spell and tried to relax. His uncle used a counter-Shadow spell, one that shouldn’t have caused too much pain, a bit of discomfort perhaps, but no more.

  Yet Aerolus’ anguish grew as the Light actually hurt him. Instead of the heat he would have thought to feel, a frosty fist of cold made his breath catch and his body stiffen. Pain enveloped him, freezing everything but his mind.

  “Aerolus,” he dimly heard Arim shout. “What are you thinking?”

  Arim pressed a hand to Aerolus’ heart, increasing the ache in his chest. Gradually, the pain stopped throbbing, and the aggravating prickles of ice faded into a comforting warmth.

  “That really hurt,” Aerolus mumbled before shaking his head and turning to Alandra. “Purie,” he said sharply, alarmed at her lack of colour. He scrambled to her side and reached the spot below her heart to feel for her aura’s pulse, swearing when he felt nothing.

  “What are you doing with an Aellei?” Arim asked, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. He stared from her to Aerolus, and a flare of heat lit his gaze. “Don’t tell me you slept with her?” He stared hard at Alandra, exhaling with an odd sound of relief. “At least she’s female.”

  “I’ll ask you just what that means later. Now I need you to heal her. Tell me what I can do, and I’ll help.”

  “Aerolus—”

  “Just do it!” Air seethed and shook the cabinets left hanging in the kitchen as Aerolus’ stress hit the breaking point. Churning energy broke what dishes and glasses remained intact. But the air around Alandra fluttered gently, stroking with warm laps of wind.

  Arim muttered something under his breath and squatted down. Frowning, he placed a hand on Alandra’s forehead and began a healing chant. Aerolus joined him, willing her to get well, praying for her to wake so he could shake some sense into her.

  Moments passed. “She’s not moving,” he said stupidly.

  “I know that. I just spent the last few minutes trying to ensure she never would again, and I’m still not sure I should have stopped.” Arim glanced at him, waiting for an explanation he wasn’t ready to give.

  Staring down at Alandra, seeing her lying so still and unresponsive, finally broke the silence Aerolus
had promised her. She might not trust the Storm Lords, but he did. And it was high time he remembered just who and what he was. He would use everything at his disposal, all his strengths and assets, to save his affai.

  Guilt swarmed him. Had he confided in his family about her sooner, this would never have happened. Arim may have harmed her, but the blame lay squarely in Aerolus’ hands.

  “She saved Marcus from the Nocumat during our last battle with ‘Sin Garu,” he explained quietly. “Apparently she’s been watching out for us—for me—since we stepped into this plane.”

  Arim’s eyes darkened but he said nothing.

  “She’s mine, and if you cannot save her, you cannot save me.” So saying, he did the only thing he could think of to help her. He merged his magic with Alandra’s to give her the strength to fight back and was surprised at the depth of her energy. He heard Arim curse, but his body and mind shut down as he toppled next to her.

  Cold numbed him to all but the feminine ball of magic he surrounded. Joined as he now was to Alandra, he felt what she felt. She had gone beyond pain and would no doubt have died had he not merged with her. Aerolus forced her to relinquish the numbness, to feel the pain again, jolting her back to awareness.

  Aerolus?

  Yes, love, I’m here. I’m waiting for you, Alandra. I’ve always been waiting for you.

  I’m cold. So cold. What happened?

  It’s over now, he forced out. By the Light, the pain was excruciating. He could barely focus on anything but the sheer will to escape such anguish.

  It’s not as bad if you let go.

  Don’t do that. Reach for me. I’ve come to take you home.

  He expected her to fight, to resist at the very least. But she surprised him. Her essence opened, filling him with warmth. Then suddenly, as if a blowtorch had been lit, the ice surrounding him melted, to be replaced by pinpricks of sensation that blazed a trail of fire throughout his body.

  He knew she felt the same, but she didn’t complain or shudder from the extreme heat. Instead she embraced it, growing stronger with him as they rejoined the living.

  Blinking into Arim’s glowering face, he could do little more than groan before his uncle hauled him to his feet. Glancing down, he noted the now peaceful look on Alandra’s face as she slumbered, her breathing deep and even.

  “And I used to think you were the smart one. Don’t pass out,” Arim growled and shook him before reaching for Alandra. Unlike his previous dealings with Aerolus’ affai, Arim took extreme care to be gentle, folding his arms under her slight frame and cradling her to him. He turned from the kitchen and strode with her to Aerolus’ bedroom, depositing her with care on the bed.

  He kept his eyes on her sleeping form as he interrogated Aerolus. “What, by the four corners, is happening around here? I’ve just spent the past hour battling with a dozen warrior Aellei and an ogre, only to find another Aellein threat within what should have been a Storm Lord sanctum.”

  His words were gruff, but Aerolus could hear the apology amid the explanation.

  “I would never have harmed her had I known she was yours.” Arim ran a hand over his face. “I thought she was another of them.” He nodded in the direction of Trudy Warner’s house. “Trust me, dealing with those warriors was no picnic. But none of them gave me half the surprise she did.”

  “Alandra?” Aerolus stared at his affai lying peacefully on his bed. She looked so small, so fragile. And yet her magic was stronger than his. Joined with her, he’d felt her tremendous power. It intrigued him as much as it unnerved him.

  “Can you tell me how an Aellein royal managed to get her hands on elemental powers none of her kind should possess?”

  “What?”

  “She loosed your winds on me, Aerolus.” Arim turned, eyeing Aerolus carefully. “And you pulse with Dark energy. First Cadmus, and now you.”

  “Cadmus?”

  “Never mind.” Arim sighed, his breath heavy. “With a little persuasion, I managed to ferret some information from one of her kind. Apparently, the Aellei are on a mission to find Alandra le Aelle, heir to the Aellein throne.”

  “I knew she was royalty,” Aerolus muttered.

  “Don’t worry,” his uncle said caustically. “She’s only sixth in line. To the Aellein throne.” He groaned and rubbed his eyes. “You boys really know how to pick them. Couldn’t you have found a nice girl from Tanselm? Or even a woman from this plane, like Darius and Marcus? No, not our Wind Mage. He has to do everything the hard way.” Arim let out a string of curses in a stream of languages. “And don’t get me started on Cadmus, who’s missing, by the way.”

  “Missing?”

  “I was hoping you’d know something. But I can see you don’t. No doubt he’s being held by the Djinn that taints his power. Djinn, Aellei, xiantopes. What is the Tetrarch coming to?”

  “Xiantopes? Oh, you mean Samantha and Tessa. I don’t know I’d call them that, considering the powerful magic both possess. About the Djinn, though,” he began, his mind moving at light speed as concern for Cadmus filtered through. Recollections of their battle with ‘Sin Garu, the Djinn’s sacrifice and what little information he’d gathered from a few sources beyond started to make sense.

  Arim interrupted his train of thought. “How long have you known she was yours?” He nodded to the bed.

  Aerolus glanced at Alandra, her scent and the feel of her ingrained in his memory. “I’m not really sure. The moment I first saw her something in me came alive. On one level I’m sure of her place in my future, yet on another, I have so many unanswered questions. So many reasons not to trust…”

  “Hmm.” Arim studied him, staring in the same manner he’d watched Darius and Marcus before they fell prey to the mating noose. “So what do you intend to do about her?”

  “Keep an eye on her.” He began to pace, his gaze resting on Alandra as much as he sought to look away. “I watched Darius and Marcus make so many mistakes concerning their affai. They refused to admit their brides’ place in their hearts.”

  “So you won’t make that same mistake. You’ll tell her the truth of who she is to you.” Arim’s eyes glinted.

  Aerolus frowned. “Are you laughing at me?”

  “Of course not,” his uncle said smoothly, amusement plainly visible in his face. “You seem to have this all figured out. Who am I to interfere? So what, you’ll simply tell her she’s your affai, and then the two of you will return to Tanselm?”

  Aerolus scowled. At times his uncle was a real pain in the ass, as Cadmus liked to put it. Trust Arim to make this more difficult than it had to be. “Yes, I’ll tell her she’s my affai. I haven’t worked far enough through the situation to decide when we simply return to Tanselm.”

  Unlike his brothers, Aerolus could return to his homeworld at will. He’d never told them, knowing they would have demanded he return them the minute they stepped in this plane. The long talks with Arim had convinced him he and his brothers were better off here, finding mates to strengthen the Storm Lord line, before returning home.

  “Let me give you a spot of advice,” Arim said quietly and stepped in front of Aerolus to halt his pacing. “Before you bombard your woman with her responsibilities to you and Tanselm, find out what her heart holds. I’m not telling you not to trust her,” Arim said quickly to forestall Aerolus’ objection. “But you have a future planned out for a woman you barely know. While your heart may recognise her, your mind does not. And if you want any chance at happiness between you, trust me, don’t force it upon her.”

  Aerolus stared thoughtfully at Arim. Something in his uncle’s tone told him he spoke from experience. Curiosity blossomed, but he knew now was not the time.

  Alandra moaned softly and shifted, capturing his attention once more. He mentally recounted what he’d seen and knew. A large ball of pale-blue energy. Aellein royalty. Wings. He paused and stared down at the petite whirlwind of energy. His affai had wings. And she could increase and decrease her size at will. It seemed every time he
turned around he learned something new about her.

  “I will think on what you’ve said,” he told Arim, his voice low, thoughtful. “Now if you don’t mind, I’d like some time with Alandra, alone.”

  Arim nodded. “I have to reconstruct the house’s protection spell anyway, that and put out more feelers for your brother.”

  Aerolus shook his head. “The protection spell is fine. I shielded her through it, purposefully. And Cadmus,” he paused, not wanting to tell Arim what he suspected just yet. “I think Cadmus has a few issues to resolve before he returns.” He met his uncle’s gaze with a steady one of his own. “I don’t believe the Djinn taint you sense in him is what it seems.” At least I hope it’s not.

  Arim paused, his gaze oddly piercing. Then he turned his stare to Alandra, a thoughtful look on his face. Expecting him to demand answers, Aerolus was surprised when his uncle turned and left the room.

  Letting out a breath he wasn’t aware he’d been holding, Aerolus approached the bed and glanced down at his affai. A slow, winding warmth lit in the vicinity of his chest.

  So beautiful, so sweet, and all mine.

  He lay down beside her on the bed. She stirred, and he placed a kiss on her lips, lulling her back to rest.

  “Aerolus,” she mumbled and smiled, curling towards him. Her T-shirt—his actually—hampered her mobility. With a wave of his hand he made it disappear, and before she could tempt him beyond reason, he closed his eyes.

  “Affai,” he replied and tucked her close, pleased when a touch of her magic wrapped around him. He could literally feel her aura fitting itself to him, moulding and merging with his. Oddly enough, he didn’t feel the least threatened.

  Despite being used to his brothers’ constant presence in his life, Aerolus rarely felt at peace with anyone outside of his family. Yet within just a few days of being with Alandra, he felt comfortable, even safe, with her.

  To a point, his conscience demanded.

  Sighing, not wanting to dwell on their trust issues he had yet to address, not to mention the ‘small’ matter of her being his affai, he settled her closer to him. If only love and trust went hand in hand.