Aran was still saying something, but she barely caught a word of it. He sounded serious, and the way his words lilted up at the end invited a response of some sort.
When the silence stretched for more than a second, she lifted her eyes up to his. Whatever he’d been saying, his expression looked hopeful, as if he wished for her to agree. Since she likely owed him several favors at this juncture, Sevana had no problem with doing whatever he had in mind. “Yes, alright.”
A wide smile took over his face, his entire demeanor lighting up with so much joy he looked nearly incandescent with it. Oh dear, what had she just agreed to?
Without a single word to her, he crossed the distance between them in two large strides, caught her face with both hands in a gentle caress, and leaned down to softly, insistently kiss her.
Sevana blinked in surprise. She’d never been kissed in her life. As startled as she was, she had to admit the bards who sang all of those love songs might be onto something after all. Kissing was actually quite pleasant. Not that she had any idea what had pleased Aran so much that he’d kissed her to show his appreciation, but she wasn’t about to dissuade him. She lifted up a little more, her hands coming up to rest against his chest as she attempted to kiss back.
That pleased him; he smiled for a moment and gave a contented hum. Gently disengaging, he gave her a warm hug, lingering. “Thank you. I know I interrupted you, I’ll let you get back to your research, but let’s take proper time for dinner, alright?”
“Sure,” she agreed, still bewildered on what she’d agreed to. After he left, Sevana sat in the chair and picked things back up again, but eventually stared uselessly at them. What had that been all about? It had felt very nice, and she wouldn’t mind doing it again, but why?
Sevana felt like someone had unexpectedly tilted the world on her. She’d never thought of Aran in a romantic vein before. Scratch that—she’d never thought of romance at all. With that kiss, he’d opened a door where she hadn’t expected to find one, and the view on the other side of it was enticing indeed.
What would it be like, she wondered, to have Aran as a life partner? A friend, a lover, a spouse, all rolled into one? Did she want that? Her mind flashed back to the kiss, unbidden, and her lips tingled, heartbeat speeding up a touch. Alright, that was possibly a stupid question. Clearly she did want that. It took more than a few minutes to mentally adjust to this possibility. The more she thought on it, the more perks she found, and few things to object to.
Aran as a romantic partner. Maybe she needed to explore this possibility further.
After the kiss came a host of casual touches when in their guest house. Though he did not attempt to kiss her again, Aran was not shy about hugging her good morning, or brushing a hand along her shoulders when passing behind her, or nudging her with a hip and ordering her to stop hogging the couch. Apparently, he also saw no reason to observe arbitrary personal boundaries in private.
Sevana startled at first, as she couldn’t understand why he was suddenly acting outside of his norm, but she really couldn’t say that she minded. It was strange, to have him suddenly inside of her personal space more often than not, and behaving so affectionately with her, but Sevana couldn’t deny that she liked it. Certainly it helped her realize that exploring something romantic with him was a very agreeable idea.
It also made focusing on the problem at hand more difficult, as Sevana’s long-dormant interest in things outside of academia suddenly reared its head. Between that and the next two treatments from Aran, she couldn’t seem to focus on work for more than a handful of hours a day. Really, it was appalling. And if Kip, Sarsen, or Master had been around to see this, they would have laughed their fool heads off and thrown out a few (admittedly justified) I-told-you-so’s.
But even with all of the interruptions to her work, Sevana did not want Aran to retreat again to a respectable distance. She had no idea what had brought this on, and for once, she wished she’d actually been paying attention to the conversation. Aran had clearly asked her something important, but short of owning up to the matter—and she’d rather have needles shoved under her nails—she couldn’t admit that she’d not been paying attention. After that first day, he hadn’t kissed her again, although he often dropped a kiss on her forehead or her cheek. And hugs occurred far more frequently than usual.
Perhaps he’d just been very happy that first day? Because of whatever-she’d-agreed-to? It didn’t entirely make sense to her, but relationships in general didn’t make much sense to her. Really, in her opinion, people were just balls of emotions and energy. It’s why Sevana found them to be generally exhausting.
Aran had always been affectionate with her, not like the way Master or Sarsen was, but more…something. She had a hard time defining it, even in her head, but he acted different now. In fact, now that she thought about it, he sometimes did things or said something similar to how Bel reacted around Hana. Strange thought, as Sevana had never put the concept of romance and herself in the same circle, and yet the idea lingered. Lingered quite pleasantly, truth be told. Sevana’s interest in all things romantic couldn’t be used to fill up a thimble, but a woman would have to be rotting in the grave to not see Aran’s appeal.
As a teenager, Sevana had put aside any fanciful notions of true love or romance because, truthfully, just friendships were hard for her to maintain. The past year had been the hardest of her life, and yet Aran had stuck through it with her. That was clearly a good indication of her changes with him, and Sevana was of the opinion that perhaps, just perhaps, if for once in her life she wasn’t too disagreeable, she could persuade Aran to become something more than a friend.
Yes, it sounded like wishful thinking, even in her own head, but Sevana still determined to have a go at it.
And she might be rubbish at relationships, but she did understand that going out and doing fun things was a necessary part of showing your interest in someone. With four weeks to go until she became Fae, Sevana wasn’t physically up to much, but she did manage to come up with something.
Over breakfast that morning, she inquired casually, “Do you want to do a bit of shopping this morning?”
Aran’s spoon paused halfway to his mouth. “Shopping? Do you need something?”
“I still have a list of things for Master and Sarsen,” she reminded him, idly twisting her water glass without truly picking it up from the table. “I believe I can get most of it from the local market, but likely not all. Loman and his engineers are still measuring the lines of the tubes and adjusting slopes, so there’s not much I can do today, work-wise. I can’t run any tests until they’re done. So, shopping?”
His face relaxed into a smile. “A day to unwind sounds brilliant to me. Although the way you said that worries me. Just what are we looking for?”
Sevana had the list memorized and rattled it off, ticking items on her fingers as she went. “Sirens’ song, conch shells larger than my hand, kraken ink, any sea gems uncut, any fins from sea serpents, aspidochelone turtle shells, and a dozen uncarved sea stones.”
Aran’s eyebrows had lifted at the start of this list and gradually climbed at her recitation until they were lodged into his hairline. “I know you said earlier that you didn’t think you could collect all of that in a day. I now understand why. At least half of that list is likely not going to be found in a marketplace, not even an Unda marketplace.”
“Uncut sea gems, conch shells, kraken ink, and the uncarved sea stones I’m reasonably sure that I can buy. The rest of it…” she trailed off, flipping her hand over in a shrug. “We’ll see. I’m not in a fit state to go hunting for things myself, even if I could breathe comfortably underwater, which means we need to find a merchant who can track things down for me. And I need to give him time to do that. So, shopping today would be best.”
“I’m all for it. But do you have the energy?”
“I feel fine at the moment.” Wryly, she tacked on, “Let’s capitalize on it.”
They did, and
not entirely the way that Sevana expected. She’d made it a whole three feet from the guest house when Aran took her hand and placed it in the crook of his elbow, as if escorting her. But it didn’t feel anything so formal. This was part of that affection from the past several days, and she encouraged it by walking a little closer to him than normal, which put a smile on his face. Huh. Perhaps she was terrible with romancing men, but she knew Aran well enough to read him. At least she had that going for her.
The market for Living Waters was a bustling, thriving area that took up three streets and could put any capital’s main market to shame. The streets weren’t any wider here than they had been in the neighborhood, but the stores were crammed in side-by-side without even the possibility of slipping a sheet of paper between them. People crammed in as well, jostling Sevana and Aran on both sides. It was quite an eclectic collection, Unda in both their human and selkie forms, and Sevana received more than one curious look from those who had the eyes to see her semi-transformed state. Sevana ignored those soundly.
Fortunately, the market resided under the air barrier, which Sevana felt grateful for, as navigating it would have been tricky otherwise. Since Aran had a good head of height on her, she asked him, “Do you see anything on our list?”
“Conch shells, dead ahead and to the right. Who designed these streets, anyway? Even I could get lost down here.”
Snorting at the near whine in his voice, she admitted, “They are as twisty as the wrinkles on a crone’s face, I do admit. But I have complete faith you won’t get us lost.”
“Is that…” he glanced down at her, making a show of being perplexed, although his twitching lips spoiled the effect, “is that a challenge? Or a threat?”
Patting his chest, she batted her eyes at him. “Yes.”
“There are days I think you deliberately confuse me. Just for the cheap entertainment value.” Shaking his head, he shifted to block the traffic heading toward them, just long enough for both of them to squeeze through, gaining the long counter booth under the striped yellow and green awning overhead. Sevana nearly tripped over someone’s foot and had to scramble a mite to keep her feet and balance. Her hold on Aran’s arm saved her in the end, and she didn’t miss the sharp look he gave her, as if unsure if her vertigo had decided to come back for another round.
Waving him down—she was fine, it was just crowded here—she focused on the wares. The scent of the sea was stronger here, a fierce mix of brine, water, and that mystical odor of the ocean that escaped description. The conch shells were plentiful on this side of the table, a light yellow on the outside, the insides a pearly white deepening to a hot pink inside the shell. Some of them were white and beige in color, others grey with a green interior, still others with a striation of tan and orangey-red around the outside. Quite a respectable mix, really.
Trouble was, half of them were completely unsuitable. Lifting her head, she caught the shopkeeper’s eye, a lumbering seal that chose not to be in his human form today. He had a monocle perched on his right eye and a money bag hanging about his neck from a golden chord. “Master. Have you any conchs grown from the sea?”
“My dear customer, they are all grown from the sea,” he returned in a chittering voice, amused.
Praying for patience, she negated, “These are all raised. I mean wild conchs, not harvested.”
His head lifted, body language indicating interest. “You can tell in a glance?”
Aran gestured toward her with a hand, still standing protectively at her side to protect her from the jostling pedestrians passing them by, “This esteemed lady is Artifactor Sevana Warren.”
“Ahh, my thanks, Artifactor, for visiting my humble shop. I do have a selection of native conchs in the back. They are not normally as popular, you see, as they’re rather plain in appearance.”
“I need them for their power, not their looks,” Sevana explained patiently. “Have you anything larger than my spread hand?” She held it up in illustration.
The shopkeeper’s head bobbed up and down. “Yes, yes, quite a few. Mila! Fetch the red box!”
Someone behind the green-and-yellow striped curtain let out a muffled yip that sounded like acceptance of the order, then came the rustle of boxes being shifted, barely heard over the shuffle of the crowd behind and around Sevana. It took a moment, but eventually a woman with clear skin and large, round eyes appeared with a flat, red box in her hands. She carefully levered it so that the edge rested on the table’s surface and she could tilt it forward, allowing Sevana a good look at the wares inside.
In a bed of shredded paper sat perhaps a dozen conch shells, each of them a variety of colors and sizes, but all of them the size of her hand. Two were substantially larger. Even at a glance, Sevana could see the power of them and gave a satisfied grunt. “Yes, that’s more like it. Master, how much for the box?”
He named a price that made her grimace. Seriously, if she didn’t owe Master and Sarsen such a huge favor, she’d consider these souvenirs of theirs to be highway robbery. “I’m also looking for untouched sea stones and uncut gems. Do you have anything along those lines?”
“I don’t,” he denied thoughtfully, his round dark eyes shrewd, “but my brother does. Two shops down. He’s new to business, just starting out. If you’ll go and buy something from him, I’ll have these wrapped and taken to your guest house free of charge.”
That was something, at least. “I’ll do that.”
Aran’s head swiveled as he tried to ascertain which shop exactly. “The other awning that also has green and yellow stripes is his?”
“The very one, Master Fae.”
With a wince on her face, Sevana paid out, although if this trend kept up, it would be a very short shopping trip. Master would have to send her funds or she’d have to go and collect things herself somehow because there was no way she could pay for all of this with what she had on her. Where was Kip when she needed him? He could have bought all of this and probably a few services to boot with what she had in her purse.
The stop at the next shop went a little better, as she got the sea stones at a reasonable price, bartering in turn that she sign a letter of authentication for the rest of the inventory. Sevana happily did so, as it was in fact good quality stock, and it saved her a ridiculous amount of money.
Aran stayed right by her side, sometimes pressing in closer as he was jostled from behind, which left her more physically aware of him than usual. Had he really always been this much taller? This broad in the chest? Sevana knew him to be strong, but the way he half-lifted her with one arm to shift her abruptly out of the way of a reckless drunk startled her. Sevana knew him well, or thought she did, but suddenly she questioned her observational powers. Why did she feel she was only now properly seeing him?
Despite the crowded conditions of the market, and the stress of watching her money slowly slip through her fingers, Sevana actually enjoyed the outing. Most of that was due to Aran, who wasn’t a demanding shopping companion, and surprised her a time or two by ducking down and whispering a hilarious observation into her ear. Sevana tired faster than she liked, and they paused in the international district to have something not-sea food related for a snack.
Sitting at the small, round table with the waffle cone in her hand, she moaned in bliss. “Never have strawberries and waffles tasted so excellent.”
“It’s just as well that you didn’t choose to become Unda,” Aran remarked idly, licking a trace of whip cream from his upper lip. “I think the sea food would have done you in eventually.”
“You say eventually like that would have taken more than three days.” She took another bite of waffle and smiled happily. Maybe they should eat here instead of at the guest house for the rest of their stay here. Seeing that he’d missed some of the cream, she reached out and used a thumb to get the rest of it. It was an entirely practical gesture that turned somehow more intimate than she intended. Something about the way his green eyes darkened and focused on her made her fidget, heat
rising to her cheeks. Deliberately looking away, she licked the cream off her finger and continued in a studiously casual manner: “Besides, as trying as Aranhil can be at times, he’s leagues better than Rane.”
“I cannot disagree.”
Very reluctantly, she checked the time via the pocket watch in her vest. Blast, it was already this late?
“We need to get back, don’t we,” Aran guessed without even craning his neck to look at the watch.
Grumbling, she shoved it back into her pocket. “Unfortunately.”
“Cheer up. Twenty-eight days to go.”
“That sounds absurdly longer than thinking of it as four weeks and I resent that.” She polished off the last of her waffle, dragging it through dregs of whipped cream before popping it in her mouth. Then, nothing else for it, they battled their way back through the crowded market streets and to the guest house.
Neither of them spoke much on the way, but Aran linked arms with her again, which Sevana liked—quite a bit, truth be told. If she were lucky enough, perhaps Ursilla would focus on some part of her that wouldn’t leave Sevana flat on her back for the next few days. She’d like to pursue this budding relationship.
They arrived at the guest house to find Ursilla already waiting. She regarded them with minimal patience, indicating she’d been waiting a while, and she announced with no fanfare or segue, “Let’s tackle your magical core again.”
Sevana couldn’t contain a groan. Naturally, Ursilla decided it was time to tackle her magic core again. Her luck usually ran that good.
With her snack turning into a hardened lump in her stomach, Sevana stared at the woman with a flat, unhappy tilt to her mouth. To be hit with this news first thing was bad enough, but she’d hoped to go out and test a theory on the tubes. Not to mention other, equally pleasant activities that involved Aran. Being flat on her back while two different types of magic duked it out in her system sounded distinctly a less pleasant option.
The Fae Artifactor Page 13