FIERCE: Sixteen Authors of Fantasy

Home > Fantasy > FIERCE: Sixteen Authors of Fantasy > Page 173
FIERCE: Sixteen Authors of Fantasy Page 173

by Mercedes Lackey


  “I was hoping we wouldn’t have to go to Belleisle,” he said. “It’s not part of Tyrea, and they’ve never had particularly good relations with my family. That might actually make you safer there, but… well, if Ernis Albion might be able to help you, we can’t stay here. Especially not if you’re running out of time.”

  “No, I suppose not.” The prospect of having very little time left didn’t bother me. At that moment, there didn’t seem to be any reason to worry about anything outside of that room. What would be would be. Such a strange way to think after years of making plans or fighting against them.

  I let my hands slip down Aren’s back and around his chest, and he drew in a quick breath as my breasts pressed against his back, only a wisp of delicate fabric sliding between us. He reached back and moved his hand over the outside of my thigh. A tremor ran through me, a feeling like the air after lightning has struck close-by. My body hummed with an energy I couldn’t control, and all I wanted was for him to touch me more.

  I moved sideways off of the bed to stand in front of him, and he put his hands on my hips, pulling me closer. I leaned in and pressed my lips to his, then pulled back just enough to look into his eyes, those deep brown-and-green pools that made my knees so weak.

  I took a shaky breath. “This wasn’t supposed to happen, was it?”

  “Not at all.” He reached up to run his fingers over my jaw, and I turned to kiss his fingers.

  “No,” I agreed. “We never should have met each other, really. And I’m pretty sure I should still hate you, but I don’t. I did though, you know.”

  “I know.”

  “I shouldn’t… I shouldn’t love you.” Why was it so hard to say that? Perhaps because we’d been together for such a short time. Maybe I’d given up on finding what I was feeling now, thinking that it was only true in stories, and I didn’t trust it. I was past denying it, though, past trying to protect myself. “But I think I do.”

  His gaze flicked away from mine. “In spite of what I am?”

  “Because of who you are.”

  He pulled me closer again and kissed me, long and deep. I forgot about my pain, about dying, about home. I pushed him back on the bed, my lips never leaving his as my knees pressed into the bed on either side of him, and he pulled my hips down onto him. His hands slipped under the loose fabric of my shirt, and I groaned into his mouth. He pulled the shirt off over my head. We rolled so that I was on my back and he lay beside me, kissing me and touching me until I thought that the feeling would kill me before anything else had a chance to.

  “Rowan,” he whispered, “Are you sure this is what you want?”

  “Yes.”

  He looked like he was going to say something else, but hesitated. I slipped my thumbs into the waistband of my pants and pulled them low, wiggling my way out of them, then reached for his.

  He seemed to forget what he was going to say.

  I woke to the feeling of Aren placing a gentle kiss between my eyebrows. “Mmm,” I said. “Can I wake up like that every morning?”

  The darkness under his eyes and much of the tension that had always been in his face were gone. He looked younger and more relaxed, if not as untroubled as I felt. Though he wore a faint smile, there was something in his eyes that didn’t match it. My own problems were still there, but it felt like they’d drifted farther away during the night.

  “I’ll see what I can do,” he said. “I don’t think it’s still morning, though.”

  My stomach growled as if in agreement. “Feels like about half-past morning.”

  I rolled out of bed with a strange combination of self-consciousness at my nakedness and a sense of confidence, of all being right with the world.

  The fire had burned out while we slept, and the room was cold. I reached for my sleep clothes and pulled a long sweater over my head on top of them, then leaned back to kiss Aren. He smiled then, a real smile, as he closed his eyes. I had to fight the urge to lie down and touch him again. I had more urgent needs to think about.

  In the kitchen, I found a cold box filled with left-over food from the banquet, and piled a plate with everything that would travel well back to the room and could be eaten without forks or knives. Pastries, fruits, a few sweets.

  “Good morning,” sang a soft voice behind me. Niari sat at the long table, holding a cup with steam rising from it. “Did we have a good night?” She sipped her drink, and her eyes grinned at me over the top of the mug.

  “We did. Were you looking for us?”

  “Not me, no. I came up with Kel and Cassia. They wanted to look over some maps. There was no one in Aren’s room when Kel knocked, so we decided not to check yours.”

  I laughed. “Thanks.”

  Niari tilted her head to one side, and her high ponytail fell over one shoulder. “You look better than you did yesterday,” she said. “We were worried about you. You looked half—” She stopped herself. “Well, just flat after your testing. You seem better now. Have you decided what you’re going to do?”

  “No. We didn’t really talk about it last night.”

  “I’m sure. Care for a cup?”

  I didn’t want to be rude. I sat, and Niari poured me a cup of something that smelled like a field full of berries. I drank it quickly. “Thanks,” I said. “I should be getting back. I’ll see you later?”

  “Of course.”

  Kel and Cassia were in my room talking to Aren when I returned. I set the plate on the table, next to the maps they had spread out there. “I’ll just go get some more clothes on,” I mumbled. Aren was already dressed and looking at something Kel was showing him on a large map, but he looked up and gave me a slow smile that made me think I might melt into a puddle on the floor.

  Cassia snapped her fingers. “You,” she said to Aren, and pointed back at the map. “Brain. Here.”

  Kel laughed.

  “Rowan, come with me,” she said. “We’ll find you something nice.” She led me down the balcony to a room that was filled with clothes. I reached for a pair of dark green pants with pockets on the legs, but Cassia took them and set them aside.

  “Save those for when you’re traveling,” she said, and reached past me for a light-blue dress with a wide neckline and a shorter skirt than I was accustomed to. “Try that. And really, take whatever you want when you go. We have too much of this stuff here.”

  “Thank you.” I pulled the sweater off and put on the undergarments she handed to me, then the dress. I turned so Cassia could close the back for me. She had judged the fit perfectly. “So what’s going on?”

  She shrugged, and pulled at the waistband of her own ankle-length skirt, which she wore with a sleeveless top that showed the lower portion of her flat belly. It was casual and plain, but something about the way she held herself made her look like a warrior ready for battle. “Mariana and Arnav are going to let us go. Someone needed to visit the South shore on a diplomatic issue anyway. We might as well do it, and if we go over land we can stop in to pay your parents a visit. Think they’ll like me?”

  “My brother will.”

  Cassia raised an eyebrow. “Oh, I hope so. But really, I need to get away for a while and do something different. I’m getting bored here.”

  “Well, I appreciate it. I don’t imagine going to Darmid is an appealing prospect for you. Are you sure it’s safe?” I didn’t think most people would recognize them for what they were, but a magic hunter would.

  “Safe as we are anywhere these days.”

  “So you’ll be careful?”

  “We always are.” She smiled and found a brush to run through my hair, just as Felicia used to do. I closed my eyes, and for a moment I was in two places and times at once. I remembered another person, frightened and trying to do as she was told, relatively normal and absolutely safe. Was that really me?

  “You just worry about getting yourself better,” Cassia continued, and I opened my eyes. “Aren would never admit it, maybe not even to himself, but he needs you.” She shook her
head. “You poor creatures are so vulnerable that way.”

  Kel and Aren hadn’t moved in the time we were gone. “If you put the maps in a waterproof bag, though,” Aren was saying, “you could swim around the mountains instead of crossing over them.”

  “We could. We’d still have to cut down the other side at the isthmus, but that could work.” They both looked up as we walked in.

  “Are we making any progress?” Cassia asked.

  “Not really,” Kel told her. “It’s too bad the caves don’t go farther west.” He turned to me. “But you can take them almost all the way east. If you’re going that way, I mean. Cassia can arrange to have the fairies take you.” He looked at Aren, who didn’t say anything.

  “Of course,” Cassia said. “Much faster than over land, if we find you a good guide.”

  Kel was still looking from Aren to me and back. “Have you talked about what you’re doing?”

  “Only a little. We’ll be going east.”

  “When?” Kel asked.

  “Soon,” I said. “It’s lovely here, and you’ve all been so wonderful to me. But I miss the sky. I think I’ll go crazy if I stay underground much longer.”

  Kel exchanged another glance with Aren. “Sounds good,” Aren said. “I don’t think I’ll be welcome here for much longer, anyway.”

  “Tomorrow morning, then,” Kel said. “Early. We’ll have a guide meet you at the doors we came in, and someone to do introductions. I’ll ask Arnav to send a message to Belleisle to let them know you’re coming. Cass, we should go.”

  I hugged Kel. “I’m going to miss you.”

  “Take care, okay?” he whispered. “Whatever happens. We’ll see you again soon.”

  Cassia forced a smile and kissed me on the cheek, and then they left us.

  “What’s going on?” I asked Aren.

  “It’s nothing,” he said, and picked up a bright-red apple. He carried it with him to the bed, tossing it from hand to hand, then stretched out with his head on a pillow. “I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

  “I’ll be fine as long as you’re around,” I said.

  He turned toward me, and for a brief, frightening moment I was reminded of the way he looked the first time I saw him. Cold. Hard. Calculating. It passed quickly, but left me unsettled.

  “Do you think you could have come here without me, if you knew you would have done well on your own?” he asked.

  “No, I’m glad I didn’t leave you. This worked out better for both of us, right?”

  He flexed his left hand, making the rapidly-disappearing scar stand out. “It did. This time.”

  “Aren, what’s wrong?”

  He sighed and rubbed a hand over his eyes. “It’s nothing. Ernis Albion, the Sorcerer you’re going to see, doesn’t like my family. I’m not excited about the reception I’ll get, but Arnav will send that letter explaining what I’m doing with you.” He smiled. “It will be fine. I can only imagine what you’ll do with your magic when it’s freed.”

  There was something in his expression I didn’t quite trust. “Aren, is there something you’re not telling me? They will let you stay, right? You don’t have to protect me from anything. I can handle it.”

  He frowned. “I said they would.”

  “You did, I’m sorry. Will you tell me more about Belleisle now?”

  “We’ll have plenty of time to discuss that as we travel. Let’s just enjoy the peace here while we can.”

  I released the breath I’d been holding and laid down beside him with my head resting on his shoulder.

  He offered me the first bite of the apple, then took one himself. “Rowan, I—” he hesitated, then pulled me closer. “You know I’d do anything for you, right?”

  “I know.” I smiled and kissed the underside of his jaw. I knew too much about his family and his history to expect him to say he loved me. That was close enough, for now.

  “Good. I know they’ll be able to help you. I should have taken you to Belleisle first.”

  “I don’t think this part of the trip was a complete waste of time.”

  He kissed me. “Not a complete waste, no.”

  The peace and happiness flooded back. Maybe this would work out, after all.

  Chapter XXXII

  Rowan

  THE GROTTO WAS BEAUTIFUL AND the caves and tunnels fascinating, but after another two days of walking, nights spent in less-comfortable caves than we’d found before, and several more hours of travel in a tunnel that became smaller as it ascended, I was ready to see the sun.

  Stepping out onto the snow and into the cool, fresh air was like being reborn. I laughed as the brisk breeze lifted by hair and twisted it around my face, and I raised my arms as though I could fly up into that beautiful, blue sky. I was too happy to feel embarrassed by the childish gesture.

  We had emerged from a small opening in rocky earth surrounded by trees, a forest that fell silent at our appearance. One by one the winter songbirds resumed their twittering and their flitting between the trees. Thin afternoon sunlight blanketed the snow-spotted ground, broken only by the shadows of naked trees. I turned back to see Aren climbing out of the cave, followed by the two buzzing shapes that had been our guides and unintentional chaperones during our journey. They lingered at the cave mouth, reluctant to fly into the wind and the light.

  I knelt close to them, and the fairies flew over to hover near my face. I couldn’t understand their language, but they knew enough human speech for me to speak to them. “Thank you,” I said. “You’ve been most helpful. Is there anything we can do for you in return?”

  The wild-haired female who had been introduced to us as Beryl whispered something in Jasper’s ear and he shook his head. That made her laugh, a high-pitched sound like sleigh-bells. She buzzed back into the cave followed by Jasper, who waved us off over his shoulder before he disappeared into the shadows. Strange little creatures. I hoped we’d see them again.

  My boots crunched over the snow as I caught up with Aren, who stood with his hand pressed against a massive tree trunk, apparently trying to get his bearings. Without an interpreter, there had been no way for the fairies to tell us where we had ended up.

  “This has to be the stone forest,” he said. “They’ve brought us all the way to Artisland.”

  I laid my own hand on the tree, and was surprised to find that the rough bark felt like it was carved from rock. “That’s in the far east, isn’t it?”

  He nodded. His jaw was clenched tight, and I recognized the tension returning to his face. He closed his eyes, checking our protections. I didn’t know how the shifting of the tunnels had helped us travel so quickly, but I was grateful for it. My own pain wasn’t too bad at that moment, but we needed to get out of Tyrea and to safety as soon as we could. Aren seemed less pleased, though.

  He turned his head, listening. “Water flowing that way,” he said. “Lots of it. That will be the Sisswinn River, which will take us to the bridge to Belleisle if we follow it downstream. Less than a day’s journey, if we keep moving.” He pressed his lips into a hard line, clenched his fists and flexed his fingers, then set off toward the river.

  I followed, but the uncertainty I’d felt back at the Grotto returned. Aren had seemed fine as we journeyed through the caves, answering all of my questions, explaining that his father and this Ernis Albion had had a falling out years ago, and that differences in approaches to magic had caused a rift between Tyrea and Belleisle long before that. But he said they were known as kind and generous people, and that if anyone could help me without risk of turning me in to Severn, it was this Albion. He’d seemed confident. Happy, even, though he’d retreated to his more familiar moodiness at times. I’d believed him, not wanting to question him again after we’d been through so much. But now I wondered. “It’s safe there, right?”

  He reached up to rub the back of his neck. “Safe enough.” He stopped and turned to me, arms out, and I slipped into his embrace, enjoying even the rough feel of his clothing
against my face. “We should go,” he whispered, and turned away before I could read his expression.

  “Aren, just tell me what’s wrong. We’ll figure it out.”

  He didn’t answer. We moved as quietly as we could with our feet crunching over the snow. The landscape and season seemed to be to our advantage. We would see anyone approaching from a great distance between the trees.

  Then again, I thought, that means we can’t hide, either.

  We certainly left enough of a trail for anyone following us, but that couldn’t be helped. The snow wasn’t much trouble most of the time, but in a few lower spots it was nearly waist-deep. I followed in the path that Aren broke ahead of me, but there was no way to go back and erase those tracks.

  Aren was on high alert, looking around and watching the sky above us. I did the same, but didn’t see anything other than high clouds gathering, and the tiny birds that continued about their business in the trees. A few squirrels had strong words for us, but otherwise we seemed to be passing unnoticed. Still, Aren seemed distant and uncomfortable. The sun wasn’t yet touching the tops of the trees when he suggested that we make camp for the night near a large deadfall of trees piled in a messy tangle some distance from the river.

  “Why?” I asked. “We’ve got plenty of light left. Wouldn’t it be wiser to get as close to the bridge as we can?”

  “Perhaps. But I don’t think we’ll get across tonight, and this is a good spot to camp. No snow, sheltered from the wind.” He sat on a log and rested his elbows on his knees, hands dangling between his legs. “Would you rather keep going?”

  I set my backpack on a bare, dry patch of ground. “I don’t know. I was hoping for a bed, but if you don’t think we can make it tonight, this is perfect.” I smiled, but he didn’t return it. The damp chill of the surrounding air crept into my stomach.

  He stared at his hands for a few more seconds, then stood and rooted through his pack, pulling out food and unrolling bedding. I didn’t know what else to do, so I went to pick up kindling and firewood from around our campsite and piled it nearby.

 

‹ Prev