“The talisman.” Marchand muttered. “The charm Prince Paul wears around his neck.”
“Just so.” Aiken nodded. “He must give that bauble to the elf.”
“He must sacrifice Prince Paul for Prince Iladrul?” Marchand’s already pale face went ashen.
“He must make his choice.” Aiken corrected him. “If they are to go to war, I must ally my people with one race only. It is Jamiason who will decide which race that shall be.”
-26-
Ishitar didn’t bother to knock on the door to his mother’s cottage. He had been here often enough that he knew she didn’t care if he just walked in. The only rule she had ever voiced, where Ishitar was concerned, was that if the library or her bedroom door were shut, then he should knock. Otherwise, the cottage she and Sappharon shared was to be considered as much his home as it was theirs.
Na’amah, as Ansibrius, stood at his side, her mismatched eyes—one was blue and one was brown—surveying the room as she took in her surroundings. Her long, skinny, black and white legs danced slightly, because she was nervous. The air about the place leant to this. Lucias is often tightly strung and Sappharon is not known for being the gentlest of all souls.
I grinned at that thought and chuckled under my breath. Ishitar, turned his gaze toward me and gave me a guarded smile before stepping away from me to find his mother.
The door to the library was open so he poked his head in. Because Lucias was not there, he made his way down the hall to her bedchamber to find that door was closed. Shaking his head, he raised his hand to knock. It was the middle of the afternoon and, I suspect, the last place he expected to find her was lounging in bed.
When the door opened, it was Loki who stood on the other side. He wore an irritated expression which quickly turned into a mischievous grin. Ishitar, his lips thinning, bid Loki to tell his mother that he was there and would wait for her outside.
I followed Ishitar into the kitchen and watched as he poured himself a glass of wine before stepping into the afternoon sun. The day was warm and bright and the air was heavy with the scent and sounds of the forest surrounding us.
Once outside, Na’amah bounded forward, barking and jumping as she ran toward the garden. Ishitar seemed to realize, as his gaze followed her, that she was heading toward Sappharon, who sat on the edge of the garden area with eyes wide with fear because she was about to be attacked by her dog.
Laughing, Ishitar called after Na’amah and told her to calm down.
Not that it did any good.
She was on top of Sappharon, her pink tongue licking her mother’s face, while Sappharon struggled beneath her and grunted her surprised irritation as she tried to push the dog off of her.
Still laughing, Ishitar ran forward and grasped the nape of Na’amah’s neck to pull her off of the demon. Sappharon, waving her hands in exasperated curses, which made even me blush, found her feet and leaned forward to chastise the dog in throaty grunts.
“I’m sorry, Sappharon!” Ishitar, still laughing, apologized. “She’s excited to see you again. That’s all.”
Sappharon’s eyes narrowed and her lips pursed as she shook her head and flew her gaze to the dog. Na’amah, still jumping, though now under Ishitar’s control, let out a long, low growl that was half bark and half whine. As the demon held the dog’s gaze, her anger seemed to calm a bit until she fell on her knees and held her arms open. Ishitar let the dog go and began laughing again as Na’amah flew her front legs onto Sappharon’s shoulders and began licking her mother’s face again.
This time Sappharon joined in what laughter she could as she pulled the dog close to her and held her tight. Her thoughts screaming with her recognition that this was her child, she buried her face in Na’amah’s neck and began sobbing.
“Sappharon?” Ishitar called, falling on his knees beside her so he could set his hand on her back to bring her comfort. “My Dame! She’s being well taken care of, I assure you!”
Nodding, Sappharon raised her face from the safety of the dog’s neck to meet Ishitar’s gaze. Tears were coursing down her cheeks. Seemingly confused by Sappharon’s uncharacteristic emotional reaction to seeing her dog, Ishitar pulled his hand violently away from her.
She made a funny little noise in her throat that, I knew, was an embarrassed laugh and raised her hand to wipe the tears from her eyes. Afterward, she reached for his face and patted his cheek, her lips curled at their corners in an oddly gruesome grin which would have been beautiful if her lips could have parted.
“I’m sorry, Ishitar.” She signed. “I’ve had a very rough morning. Your visit today has taken me by surprise.”
“Is there something I can do for you?” He asked, clearly confused; clearly concerned.
“No.” She replied as she turned her attention back to the dog. “What did you say you named her?”
“Ansibrius.” Ishitar grinned at her. “I know you meant for Loki to take care of her. But I’ve never had a pet and the moment I saw her I knew that I had to have her.”
A strange sound escaped from her as she pulled the dog into her arms again. Her thoughts were ringing with gratitude. I hoped that it was not ill placed and that Ishitar would still love Na’amah when he realized she was deceiving him.
He was about to respond when he heard his mother’s voice behind him.
“Ishitar?” He turned to look over his shoulder at her and smiled. “Is something the matter, met paken?”
“Net, Mima.” He said as he found his feet and walked toward her. When he reached her, he leaned forward and kissed her cheek. “I have a free afternoon so I thought I’d stop by and say hello.” He leaned to the side to look into the cottage. “Where’s Loki?”
“He’ll be out in a minute.” She blushed. I find her very beautiful when she blushes. I suppose Lord Oedipus might have something to say to me about that if I were to ever admit it to him. “He wanted to wash up first.”
Ishitar, his lips thinning again, reached forward to press his hand upon her belly. “So, am I to have a little brother or sister, then?”
“Yes.” She looked worried suddenly. “Ishitar, please do not be angry. Your father—”
“Don’t waste your breath.” He warned her. Watching them, I felt my brow furrow. I knew that Ishitar was displeased that Loki and Lucias were now lovers. His curt treatment of Loki when the subject was raised was evidence enough of that. Still, I would have thought he would want to hear his mother’s explanation. “Did Loki tell you that I’ve chosen to live with him?”
“He did.” She gave him a guarded smile. “And that you are having Zuko teach you his tasks.”
“They seem important to me.”
“Yes, but . . .” She sighed. “Never mind. You’re a grown man. You’re old enough to make your own choices in regard to your schooling.”
“Thank you.”
Her lips drew thin.
“About my pregnancy—”
“Don’t.” Ishitar’s eyes narrowed. He turned his gaze to me, his lips pursed with clear irritation, before returning his attention to his mother. When he spoke, his tone was guarded. “You should know that I made Loki another pie.”
Her eyes narrowed slightly. “Are you certain you know what you’re doing in regard to Noliminan’s fruit? His anger in the past will be all flowers and fairies if he learns you are messing with his forbidden tree.”
“No. I’m not.” Ishitar sighed. As for me, I shifted uncomfortably at his side. “But he’s had two pies now and he hasn’t turned into Father yet.”
“Perhaps not.” She agreed. “But he is getting cocky.”
“He always was cocky.” Ishitar smiled thinly at her as the God in question stepped into the afternoon sun. “That’s what makes him the perfect subject to test my theory on.”
“If you say so.” She muttered as Loki stepped forward and handed Ishitar a glass of wine.
Ishitar took the glass and announced, “I intend to steal Lady Lucias from your company for the afternoon. I
’ll bring her back by nightfall. I have some time on my hands before Zuko is home and I thought we could take a walk.” He looked around himself. “It’s such a beautiful afternoon. I hate to waste it.”
“Of course.” Loki replied. “Honestly, I wouldn’t mind lounging on the hammock. I haven’t been sleeping well lately and I could really use a nap.”
“Perhaps it’s all the late night reading.” Ishitar, referring to Loki’s attempts to translate one of my mother’s Tomes, taunted.
Loki flushed and darted his strange, purple eyes to Lucias. When she didn’t ask what he was reading he returned his gaze to Ishitar and shrugged. “The text is riveting.”
“I’m certain.” He gave Loki one of his contemplative glares as he raised his arm and held it out to Lucias. “Mima?”
-27-
Sappharon waited until she heard Loki snoring before turning toward Na’amah and indicating that she should follow her into the cottage. Once inside, she closed the door, peered out the window to verify that the noise of it closing hadn’t woken Loki up, and fell to her hunkers before her daughter. Grinning, she reached forward and threw her arms around Na’amah’s neck again.
She didn’t know how to make the child understand her. Very few people knew the language she spoke with her hands and she doubted that her daughter had watched enough of her palaver with Ishitar to have picked up on the meaning of her gestures. So she did the only thing that she could do and pointed at her mouth while she shook her head. Fortunately, her daughter was intelligent enough to understand what she was trying to tell her.
“You can’t speak?” Na’amah, still in the form of a dog, asked.
Sappharon shook her head again. As she did so, she held out her hands in a gesture that she hoped asked Na’amah to tell her everything.
Na’amah, however, frowned. She immediately took on her own form and opened the door to the cottage. She looked over her shoulder at her mother, who was panicking at this point because she didn’t want her daughter—wearing not the first stitch of clothing, to make matters worse where Loki was concerned—to be seen by the God, and called out, “Lord Loki!”
Loki snorted, rolled onto his side and fell back to sleep.
“Lord Loki, please!” Na’amah tried again.
This time Loki groaned. “What do you want, woman?”
“I don’t understand my mother.” Na’amah said quickly. “Please come and translate for us. Then, I promise, we shall let you go back to sleep.”
Loki let out an irritated growl. Sappharon was certain he was going to refuse, but he didn’t. Rather, he rolled off of the hammock onto his feet and staggered, still clearly not entirely awake, toward the cottage.
When he stepped inside, he looked from one to the other of them and shook his head. “If you didn’t have your father’s chin, the pair of you could be sisters.”
“You know Na’amah for who she is?” Sappharon signed desperately.
“You told me about her when I was in my sick bed.” He groused at her. “Surely you remember that.”
“I do.” She nodded. “Of course I do. I’m just so surprised to see her! And with Ishitar!”
“Prince Ishitar thinks Lucias sent her to me as his pet.” Loki grumbled as he pulled a chair from the table and fell gracelessly into it. He didn’t seem to be interested in staring at Na’amah, for a wonder. Sappharon was relieved by this. “And best he goes on thinking that way. Hopefully he doesn’t raise the issue with his mother.”
“Even if she tells him that she didn’t send me to him,” Na’amah said quickly, “he wouldn’t turn me away. He likes having me around, I think.” And then, in a timid voice. “You know who my father is?”
Loki sighed and looked from one to the other of them. Finally, his eyes landed on Sappharon. “You haven’t told her?”
“No.” Sappharon signed. “I do not want to place Metatron into any more trouble than he is already in.” She blushed and lowered her gaze. Despite everything that had passed between them, she still, desperately, loved Metatron. And, despite her disdain for him, she had come to reluctantly regard Loki as a member of her small family. She found that she didn’t want to raise this sore subject up to throw in his face. “If Noliminan had proof that we consummated our love, what he forced you and Metatron to do in front of the Council would seem like child’s play.”
Loki’s lips thinned and his cheeks blazed red. His eyes darted swiftly away.
“Mrilk treckt.” He muttered the unthinkable words. Sappharon’s eyes grew wide upon hearing them. Even she would never dare spill that particular curse at Noliminan. It was the most foul of any terms you could call another body. “I loathe him for that.”
“It wasn’t Metatron’s fault.” Sappharon, swallowing her surprise at Loki’s brazenness, softened the motions of her hands.
“I speak not of Metatron and you know it.” He spat. As he did so, Na’amah’s eyes flew to her mother. They were full of questions. Then, low and under his breath, “Though neither one of us can bear to look at the other now. Even when Council meets we avoid one another’s gaze.”
“Neither he nor I will ever be able to repay you for what you did to prevent my humiliation.” Sappharon, grateful to Loki for his protection over her, softened her motions. “Loki, you didn’t lose anyone’s respect. If anything, you gained it.”
“Regardless,” Loki groused. Then he waved his hand at her. “Past is past.” He forced himself to meet Sappharon’s gaze. “Na’amah came looking for me because she was frightened that she had not heard from you. I promised her my succor. So she’s staying with me for the time being. I asked her to turn into the dog because she happened to come on the same night Price Ishitar asked to move in with me.” He looked slightly irritated, then, as his eyes flicked to her bare breasts before returning—far too swiftly to belie his desire to continue staring—to Sappharon’s gaze. Sappharon, nobody’s fool, narrowed her eyes at this action. “Her timing was not at all convenient.”
“I do not mind being Prince Ishtar’s pet.” Na’amah said, her tone soft. “I’ve never lived in anyone’s company before. Not even as an animal. And he is so kind to me.”
“He’s a good boy.” Sappharon agreed, her eyes still narrowed.
“He’s a good lad.” Loki translated for her, grinning playfully to himself for having been so clearly read and pointing at Sappharon to indicate these were her words and not Loki’s. “Actually,” he lowered his hand, “I’m becoming attached to him.”
“He is fond of you as well.” Na’amah grinned. “He watches you, you know. When he thinks you aren’t paying attention. He finds you very curious.”
Loki’s brow furrowed at that. His purple eyes danced with strange interest over her face. Sappharon was curious as to what thoughts were swimming in his mind but, wisely, did not voice her suppositions.
“That’s queer.” He finally said. “I wasn’t aware that Prince Ishitar held a fascination for men.”
“He doesn’t.” Na’amah shrugged. “He’s merely studying you. Trying to puzzle you out in his mind. Sometimes, when he’s alone he talks to himself. Almost as if he’s talking to someone else that I can’t see, actually. He goes on and on about how you remind him of his father.”
Loki snorted. “Insulting.”
“He doesn’t mean it that way.” Na’amah assured him. “Who is he talking to, do you think? Or is it that he’s insane?”
“Azrael, is my guess.” Sappharon signed. “He could see him when he was a boy. Even when Azrael wasn’t formed. It’s entirely possible he can see him still.”
Loki turned his gaze upon her. A strange expression darkened his masculine features. “You believe that Azrael is still around?”
I rolled my eyes and shook my head. Generally, Lord Loki wasn’t this simple minded.
“Of course he’s still around.” Sappharon frowned at him. “He’s still responsible for depositing the damned ones into your basement, isn’t he?”
“Of course.” He actu
ally sounded relieved. He smiled slightly. “That makes more sense than my thought that Zadkiel had expired his soul and some new system had been worked out.”
“No.” Sappharon sighed. “Zamyael told me that he was punished for letting loose his tongue.” Then frowning. “I’d like to know what was so Gods be damned important that it was worth the price he paid.”
“So would I.” Loki muttered as he raised his hand to his lips to toy with them. As for me, I shivered. “She didn’t tell you?”
“No.” Sappharon signed to him. “She would never betray him. She has been in love with him since time out of mind.” She shrugged. Despite my better sense, I felt my heart take flight at that sentiment. “She only told me that whatever it was is the reason she’s now living with Zadkiel. Raziel was, apparently, less than happy with Zam over what she learned.”
“Curious.” Loki muttered. Then he grinned. “What is it with you female demons and your obsession with the members of the Quorum?”
“They are pretty to look at.” Sappharon grinned playfully at him.
“If you say so.” Loki shrugged and gave her a brotherly roll of the eyes. He turned his gaze to Na’amah. “You called me in here to translate.”
“Yes.” Na’amah smiled eagerly at him. “Please.”
They talked well into the afternoon, Na’amah sharing her travels as she sought Sappharon and Sappharon sharing what detail she could about her life in exile with Lucias. Loki was patient with both of them until they fell into a lull and merely sat across the table from one another holding hands. After ten shifts of the shadows without a word between them, he reached for their clasped hands, patted them and asked, “Are the pair of you finished with me? May I, please, go back to nap?”
“Yes, Apprentice Lord Loki.” Na’amah said, reaching for his hand and squeezing it. “I should revert to my other form in case the little Lord comes home.”
“The little Lord.” Loki snorted as he found his feet. “Best you not let him hear you calling that. He might take it as a slight on his manhood.”
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