by Jan Delima
Gareth paused at the door. “I don’t need to think about it. I’ll learn anything that will strengthen the defenses of Avon.”
Gently moving the child, Rosa stood and walked around the sofa until she faced her guard. She reached for his hand. “I’m so happy,” was all she said.
He brought her hand to his lips for a brief kiss and then set it back by her side. “I’m beginning to see that.” He gave a nod to Luc, turned and left.
* * *
Back at Rhuddin Hall, Taliesin wandered around Luc’s apartments. Like a shrine to a lost love, paintings cluttered the walls, exquisitely crafted yet hoarded in this private domain.
Koko’s spirit kept a fierce hold on her warrior’s heart.
Taliesin felt her memory in the air, not from prophecy or premonition, but by intuition and empathy.
“Koko was a lovely artist,” Sophie said from the kitchen, holding a basket of baked sweets, unaware how much he treasured those simple gestures of kindness. “Though it’s been almost seventy years since her passing, I think Luc may need some time before he can accept another wife.”
Taliesin only shrugged. Emotional tangles were better left to the minds of humans. Wolves acted on baser instincts.
Sophie placed the basket on the kitchen table. “Are you sure you want to stay here instead of the lake house?”
“I’m sure.” The lake house had a fully stocked bar and Luc drank nothing stronger than tap water. This was where Taliesin needed to be—because he had lost his other Sight during the flight back to Maine.
He needed no temptations within reach during this sudden blindness.
“I’ll leave you, then.” She headed toward the outer door. “Dinner is at seven. Please join us. Dylan could use the distraction.”
“Porter briefed me on Luc’s call.” He didn’t soothe her with misleading premonitions.
Concern pinched her soft features. “Yes, and my husband is all but crawling out of his skin and I understand why. Luc may be his brother, but he raised him like a son. It’s killing him not being there to check on him. And now Elen is there as well. I give Dylan another week before he takes a ride down.”
Such strength this family had. Taliesin envied it as much as he feared destroying it. “I suggest you all stay put and let Luc and Rosa handle Avon.”
She paused by the door, frowning. “Is that a warning?”
Swallowing a sardonic laugh, he said, “No.” He couldn’t See anything beyond this bloody room to offer warnings. “All is well, as far as I know,” he tried to reassure her and then changed the subject. “What’s for dinner?”
Ever observant, she cocked her head. “You’ve never asked me that before. Are you sure you’re all right?”
“I’m fine.” He waved for her to leave. “I’ll see you at seven.”
When the door finally closed, he sagged into the nearest chair. He couldn’t tell her that he no longer had visions. It would only worry her more.
His Sight had been taken away after his latest interference. By his dearest darkest mother, he assumed. For this family, he may even humble himself to ask why. But only one place held those answers, a shimmering hell of his childhood. And the Walkers had stopped carrying his messages a long time ago.
Fuck. He ran his hands through his hair.
Would the Beddestyr carry one more after the fate he’d cursed them to?
Seventeen
The hound wanted to lick Rosa’s hand as it galloped beside her. Thankfully, Mae’s chamber was all but a few doors down. Tucker, they called it. Large and white, with red-tipped ears, it mimicked all accounts of hounds from the Otherworld, but also hounds from this world; an intimidating creature, no matter its origin.
Trying not to sound overly curious, Rosa asked Elen, “When was the last time Tucker has eaten? I can send for food from the kitchens.”
No need to keep it hungry when one never knew what it might eat.
Rosa received an enthusiastic bark for her suggestion.
“Tucker likes you,” Elen reassured her with an apologetic smile. “He’s normally not so friendly with anyone other than Sophie. She wanted me to bring him for protection.”
“If he agreed to come, there might be a reason why,” Luc warned.
“I know.” Elen gave the hound a gentle pat. “This place reeks of life and death but no earthly in-between. It’s off balance, as if caught in a bubble of extreme mourning and excessive rapture.” She shook her head. “Strange, really. I almost feel dizzy, like I’ve been drinking too much ale.”
Rosa halted in the middle of the hallway. “Would you mind explaining what you just said?”
“This place breathes power but the source is trapped and saturating this island.” She frowned, trying to give an analogy they would understand. “Like plants in a pot, overfeeding them will kill them as surely as starvation. Avon is overfed. Its roots are flooded by water. It’s sitting in a bowl and rotting.”
“I thought it was starved.”
“It is,” Elen said. “That’s what comes from imbalance.”
Rosa turned to Luc and caught his gaze. He shook his head. Please don’t, was his silent plea. She sent him a look in return; I’ll talk to her about the Walkers before she leaves if you don’t.
“Is Cormack around?” Elen asked, unaware of the silent exchange.
“He’s watching our Wulfling,” Luc told her. “Or she’s watching him; I haven’t decided.”
Rosa noted that he’d excluded where they were. There was dissension between Elen and Cormack. Rosa could only assume it had to do with his sudden ability to shift and Elen’s involvement. It worried Luc, whatever it was, but not enough to interfere.
A frown marred Elen’s forehead as she turned the corner to Mae’s room. It deepened as she walked over to the bed and examined the occupant. “What is this woman’s name?”
“Mae,” Rosa supplied.
A wistful smile turned Elen’s lips. “Maelorwen,” she said, gathering the woman’s hand in hers. “Is that really you?”
“Do you know her?” Luc asked.
“I believe so, but I’d like her to tell me herself because she’s fully conscious.”
A cackle came from the bed. “So the apprentice has surpassed her teacher.” Mae rose up on her elbows with a smirk on her distorted features, turning wider on the side that didn’t bear scars. New wounds over old ones marred her face, though the swelling had come down a good deal. Her brown hair had been plaited for care, revealing more knotted flesh from burns received long before Neira’s interrogation. “How are you, Elen child?”
Elen inhaled a shuddered breath. “Not so much a child anymore. What did they do to you, Mae?”
“Nothing that has not been done before.”
Luc frowned over the exchange. “You seem to know each other well.”
Elen spared her brother a glance. “Mae taught me all I know about plants and their medicinal uses back in Cymru. It was during the time I lived with our mother, before you and Dylan came for me. I was a bit of a nuisance.”
“No”—Mae reached over and patted Elen’s hand—“you were my sunshine in a vast garden of loneliness.”
“I know that garden well,” Elen said in a quiet voice. “I can’t believe you’re here. I thought you were long gone from this world.”
“The Guardians have tried; you can be sure of that. But I am a jumpy old flea on their furry asses and not so easy to kill. I am the first born with the curse, did you know? Evil Bringer, they named me. The things they did to force the shift . . .” Her voice trailed off. “And they called me evil. But you know these things too . . . Do you not, Elen child? And yet here we still sit after all these years. We cannot shift, you and I, but we can make them piss in their pelts.”
Recovering from her surprise, Rosa approached the bed with censure in her voice. “I was worr
ied about you, Mae.”
Not a single ounce of remorse entered her sigh. “You are a good girl, Rosa, with a good heart, but sometimes you are too stubborn. I like the whispers I hear about your new husband, and he was raised by a warrior with honor. This is a rare thing indeed among our kind.” Her chin rose in defiance. “I will not make you any more of your potion. Math did not deserve your child but this man does. You should be upstairs with your husband making wolf babies and not worrying over me.”
Rosa ignored Luc’s grin. “You know it’s not Luc’s child that concerns me.”
“Oh, pish posh, may the hangman rot.” Mae gave an absent wave. “You fret too much over Sin’s prophecy.”
A bit offended, Rosa snapped, “Excuse me for not wanting to be a feast for eight unmated Guardians.”
“If only it was warriors and not the Guardians, I would not mind so much.” Mae scooted into a sitting position, fluffing the pillows to support her back. “Listen to the prophecy a hundred times and it can be twisted to suit a hundred different ears.”
“So you pretended to be ill because you no longer wanted to help me?” Rosa asked again as hurt replaced the insult. “You could have just told me.”
“I am done discussing that.” Mae’s face lit up suddenly. She made a few claps with her hands, positively giddy as she turned to her former student. “Oh, Elen child, I must show you what I can do with the poison ivy of this country. Such a shame it did not grow back home.” A wistful sigh fell from her mouth. “The fun I could have had. It has the most delicious side effects when mixed with soap. Neira would go for a run, shower, and wake up again with welts on her—”
Luc cleared his throat, sending Rosa a grateful nod for her earlier warning. “I understand that you’re our healer.”
Mae gave him a stern eye for the interruption. “I am a problem solver, though I have been called many things in all my years: witch, midwife, alchemist, herbalist, doctor. We were burned on pyres, hung from trees, pressed between rocks, and now people of my trade work in tall buildings made of iron and glass and spin their potions in tubes instead of cauldrons. I read about these things in the magazine-books Gareth brings us. They make squares of chocolate for people to shit and I would have given them a nice cup of elderberry tea.” A wide smile revealed white but uneven teeth. “Alas, I will admit I never made a potion for a six-hour erection.” A dimple appeared on the unscarred side of her cheek. “Though I know of a few men who could have greatly used one.”
Luc made an effort to conceal his amusement, a poor one at that, since a glint remained in his eyes that threatened to build into a laugh. “I’m glad to meet a friend of my sister, and I hope you remain here as Avon’s healer and our problem solver.”
Her shrewd gaze gave him a proper scan. “I believe I shall, warrior.” She chortled when Tucker put his paws on the bed. “Well, look at you, beautiful boy. It has been a long time since I have seen one of these beasties.” Absently, she stroked the hound’s neck. “Ah, yes, the whispers have guided me well, I think. They tell me of this hound, and of the Serpent that fed well on Guardian blood, and of my Elen child.” Her gaze flicked to Elen. “The whispers tell me you healed a Bleidd. Cormack, brother of Siân. He is here, as a man, so I know these things I hear are true.”
“I went against your teachings, Mae.” Elen looked down at her hands. “I dabbled with darkness and was given the same in return. Cormack was my friend, my only friend, and now he refuses to even look at me.”
“Sometimes when the night sings, it is too tempting not to dance under the stars,” Mae said with more understanding than disapproval. “He was the sunshine in your garden of loneliness, was he not?”
“He was.” Elen nodded. “And I haven’t seen him since it happened.”
Mae gave a calculating grin. “Then you must stay for the wedding feast two weeks hence. Your Cormack will be there. I will make sure of it.”
“I fear it won’t matter if I’m there or not,” Elen said softly.
“Listen to me now.” Turning stern, Mae leaned over and lifted Elen’s chin with a knobby finger. “I will not stand for this doubt I see in your eyes. You are a child of the light. You can heal this darkness.”
Elen inhaled a shaky breath. “I’ve missed you, Mae.”
“Excuse me,” Rosa intervened to ask, “what wedding feast?”
“Yours, of course,” Mae said, dropping her hand. “You announced it yourself when you returned.”
“It was only a ruse for Neira.” And Mae, Rosa realized, must have been feigning her unconsciousness even then.
“Not so much a ruse, I think. I can see the mating braid forming between you two.” Her eyes roamed the space between Rosa and Luc. “It is tangled and has extra strings, but it is weaving its knot, so we must celebrate. And do not frown at me so . . . I will organize the Hen Was. Your marriage has given us much hope. It is a good thing you do for us. As I sit here and breathe I cannot smell a single Guardian in these walls. Is there no better reason to feast?”
“It would be a good way for our guards and staff to become united,” Luc suggested carefully, perhaps sensing Rosa’s unease.
“Staff?” Mae chortled. “Listen to you, warrior, so modern. Staff,” she repeated, shaking her head as if it was the most amusing thing she’d heard all day.
“I’m against keeping Hen Was,” Luc said with conviction that refused argument. “Positions will be offered with fair wages. Ledgers have already been purchased, and Rosa and I will confer who is best for what position. It’s their choice if they take it.”
Mae pinned Rosa with an accusing glare. “And you think we do not have reason to feast.”
Truth was a difficult thing to argue with. “As long as Avon remains protected,” Rosa conceded, “you can plan a wedding feast.”
Mae gave an excited clap. “Wonderful. You must have something better to wear than that.” She turned to Elen. “And you as well, Elen child, if you are to keep your Cormack from the clutches of Tesni and Bethan. I hear all kinds of whispers, you know. A grown warrior still a virgin is too enticing for the likes of those two. There are bets among the guards on which one will dip Cormack’s stick first. Tesni is in the—”
“Mae!” Rosa stopped her because Elen’s color had drained from her face. “We don’t need to know about such things.”
Waving off the interruption, Mae continued. “I have just the potion for you to use on your Cormack,” she said to Elen, “until you right this darkness. I will teach you today. I may not have a brew to give men big sticks, but I have one that will keep them soft as worms. It is a good recipe too.” Mae cackled, then held her belly. “So many times I saw Math outside Rosa’s secret door, hunched over like a portly jackrabbit with a limp pecker, bug-eyed and thumping but nothing rising in his fist.”
Luc laughed outright. There was no attempt to conceal his amusement this time. Soon, though, he scowled. “Don’t ever use that potion on me if you wish to remain in Avon.”
“I just wish you had used it more for Cadan,” Rosa muttered.
“It was not meant to be,” Mae said, although with sadness. “In his own way, Math loved Cadan. My interference would have been suspect had he not functioned properly with him. And then where would I be? Dead, that is where, and no good to you now.”
Elen stood as if in a daze. “I think I need to use the restroom.”
“There’s one in the library,” Rosa said, ignoring her husband’s frown. “Go down this corridor the way we came in, take a left and it’s all the way at the end. You won’t miss it.”
* * *
Alone in the hallway, Elen leaned her head back against the wall to gather her composure. Her chest ached and she wanted to blame it on this unbalanced island. Unfortunately, she couldn’t—because she knew how to decipher pain, and this one was considerably greener than Avon. Tesni, what a ridiculous name? Elen hoped she was hideous and
had breath that smelled of rotten meat.
Footsteps approached to ruin her private reprieve and Elen ducked into the library only to come to a frozen halt.
She had seen him as a wolf for almost four hundred years, but only once as a man—and she had not been in the best of mind-sets at the time.
Now she took in her ravenous fill.
Cormack sat on a chair with a book in his lap, turning the pages with care. He focused on the words as if trying to decipher their code. A ragged T-shirt clung to the taut muscles of his back and chest. He made the furniture seem small, but then, he’d always been large, even as a wolf of their kind. Changing forms did not affect mass.
His eyes were the color of her bluest delphiniums, brighter now that they were framed by rugged features instead of fur. Like his wolf, his hair was deep auburn brown and unkempt; it needed to be shorn.
She inhaled to savor his scent. Energy had a taste and she would always know his. It changed, though—when she’d given him a Guardian’s power; it melded into something of his own. Like chocolate, in its purest form it was sour, but divine once mixed with sugar. And now those fused spices rolled off her tongue and clung to the back of her throat.
She felt breathless as she never had before.
Tucker came bounding into the room and issued an excited bark. Cormack glanced up from his book. His cerulean gaze widened with surprise and then softened into what she remembered—her friend.
A web of memories weaved in the quiet space between them, of afternoons in her garden, or huddled under a blanket by the fire on winter nights. He loved to listen to her read stories aloud. He didn’t fear her. Everyone else feared her, but not Cormack.