Warrior

by Lori Brighton

  I was trying to change the subject. I couldn’t seem to keep control of the conversation, and I wasn’t sure if it was because of Shay pressed so close to me, or because of the magic.

  She grinned. “No. I think I’m angry with you.”

  “Shay.” By the gods, my mind felt confused, and vaguely I knew that was bad. Very bad. I struggled with the words, trying to come up with the correct sentences. “We have to get information from the queen. It’s the entire point of being here. We can’t forget that.”

  “Yes,” she murmured, resting the side of her face against my shoulder. “In a minute.”

  I closed my eyes and breathed in her scent. The blood in my veins heated. I had to resist the urge to pull her closer, to crush her to me.

  “We have time for one more dance.”

  I swallowed hard. “We really shouldn’t…”

  Her fingers slid into the hair at the base of my head, sending chills through my body. My hands trembled. Feeling this way was wrong. Touching her, letting her touch me. Yet, I couldn’t seem to dredge up a good reason to stop.

  “Shouldn’t what?” she asked.

  There was an intensity to her gaze that should have made me uncomfortable. That should have had me pushing her aside and moving as far away from her as possible. Oddly, all I wanted to do was sink into her. To tell her everything, even my deepest, darkest secret.

  Those delicate fingers tiptoed down my neck, over my shoulders. I felt every little touch. She was killing me. I didn’t mind. “I don’t remember.”

  “Do you know what?” She frowned, tracing the collar of my tunic with her finger. “I want to like you so badly. I want to trust you. I don’t know why, but I do.”

  “Because I’m charming? Stunning? Debonair?”

  “And humble,” she muttered, shaking her head in exasperation. “Yes, I admit your charm does pull a person in, or make them want to murder you, I’m not sure which. Depends on my mood.”

  Her hair fell in dark waves down her back, and whispered temptingly across my hands. I picked up a long, silky strand, letting it slide through my fingers. “Lovely.”

  “However,” she continued as we swayed in the middle of the clearing, completely oblivious to those around us. “It’s your loyalty, your determination, the way you care so much about your people, that truly makes me want to like you.”

  “Like me?” I grinned, not sure if I should feel uncomfortable or flattered. “Did you just admit that you actually like me?”

  “Always a joke with you. Can’t you ever be serious?” She sighed. “I said I want to like you. There’s a difference.”

  She wanted me to be serious? Fine. I could be serious. Here, it didn’t matter what I said, because here, nothing was real. “I want to like you too.”

  Under the weight of our admittance, we both fell silent. The world around us pulsed on with activity, merriment, but we were barely aware. It was as if a bubble surrounded us, protected us. I didn’t want that bubble to burst, but I knew it would.

  “Can we?” she whispered, her stunning blue gaze piercing me. “Can we be friends outside of this place? Will your people ever trust Acadia? Will my people ever trust yours?”

  “I don’t know.” Just for a moment, I gave into temptation and spread my hand across her back, pulling her closer. She was warm, soft, so delicious. I pressed my face into her hair, breathing in her sweet, flowery scent. “But we can try.”

  Her fingers burned through the material of my shirt, branding my shoulders with a heat that spread through skin, muscle and bone. That marked me. We held each other, barely moving to the music. And for a brief, insane moment I thought about the fact that it would be so easy to stay here. To forget the issues of the real world. To forget the pain, the fighting, the constant turmoil of being human. But the real world would eventually reach this safe haven. Nowhere was protected.

  “We can try,” she repeated, her voice muffled against my shoulder. “But if it comes down to it, you’ll always have to side with your people, and I’ll always have to side with mine. Even if it’s wrong. How do we change the minds of thousands of people who have been taught to hate each other?”

  I brushed my fingers under her chin, tilting her head back so I could look into her eyes. I didn’t question the fact that I wanted to comfort her, I just knew that I couldn’t resist. “I suppose one person at a time.”

  “Is that possible?”

  “I’ve changed since I met you.”

  Her gaze grew warm. Hell, why did she have to look at me that way? When her gaze went soft like that, I swore I would have done anything she commanded. Given up my army, my land, my life.

  “Maybe you’re not lying.” Her lips quirked into a small smile. “After all, you saved me from the arrow. Why did you?”

  Why had I chosen her? Why had I saved her in that garden? Why had I picked her when Queen Iduna had demanded it? Questions I hadn’t dared to dwell upon. “Because, I’m not completely heartless. I will find a way to destroy my uncle without murdering innocent, stubborn, annoying girls who…”

  She stood on tiptoe and pressed her mouth to mine. The ache that had settled in my body since meeting her spread, catching fire like a pile of dry kindling struck with a spark. My hands slid lower, cupping her arse and pulling her closer.

  I wanted her. I wanted her to smile at me. I wanted her to laugh with me. I wanted her to look at me like she had right before she kissed me. As her lips parted and a tiny little whimper escaped, the entire world around us disappeared. Nothing mattered. Nothing mattered but Shay.

  “Oh my sweetlings,” Queen Iduna called out, piercing the hazy lust that clouded my brain. “I don’t believe your kingdoms would approve.”

  We jerked away, both of us fighting for air and for control. Spotting the queen watching from the trees, a smirk upon her lips, immediately soured my mood. The heat within faded as quickly as it had arrived. What did she want from us? I knew without doubt she would have killed Shay had I taken her bargain, and she wouldn’t have felt the least bit of guilt. My father would have accepted that bargain. My uncle wouldn’t have given it a second thought. Why was I so very different?

  The queen slid from the branch and prowled toward us. I had to remember that as beautiful as she was, as delicate as she seemed, she was a predator, and we were her prey.

  “Come, my dear.” She took Shay’s hand and led her away before I had time to protest. “I want to show you something.”

  I hesitated, caught between not wanting to look like an overly protective fool, and wanting to actually protect her. And then the voice whispered, making the choice for me.

  Hurry, it urged. Don’t lose them. Protect what is yours.

  She was not mine.

  She was not.

  Yet, the truth didn’t stop me from racing after them. With each thump of my footsteps, the trees shook, the branches rattling in protest, leaves unfurling with a raspy hiss as if to warn me away. The woods would protect their queen.

  Closing, closing, hurry, the voice whispered.

  Frantic, I bolted down the path. They’d disappeared. I turned left. Just ahead I could make out a clearing of some sort. As the trees began to close, I burst from the branches and found them near a shallow stream, the forest thick around us, quiet and watchful. Neither seemed to notice the snapping of branches, my grunt of exasperation as I stumbled into the area. I was of no consequence.

  The queen stood to the side, while Shay stroked the neck of a unicorn. It was a peaceful picture. A dream. The animal nudged her shoulder, shoving Shay off balance and making her giggle. I hesitated, feeling as if I’d intruded. I’d never seen her look so at peace, so happy.

  “She’s a natural with the woodland creatures, isn’t she? A natural. If only she could harness those powers.”

  The queen didn’t look at me when she spoke, but she knew I was there, she always knew. I felt like I was violating something sacred and pure, something not for me to witness.

  “She cares
,” I said.

  Too much. She would get her heart broken, either by her own people, or me. Shay murmured something to the unicorn. It shook its head with a neigh, as if it understood. Maybe it did. They were not a part of this world, Shay and that unicorn. The light that surrounded them, making them glow, held them in an ethereal orb of protectiveness where I didn’t belong. They were purity. They were innocence. Goodness. Everything I wasn’t.

  Queen Iduna slid me a glance. “As we all should care.”

  I’d killed my first unicorn at age thirteen, urged to do so by my father. After, I’d gone home and lost my lunch. It was the only unicorn I’d ever killed. I could still remember the way it had lifted on his hind legs, tossing back it’s silvery mane in protest as brilliant red blood trailed down it’s pristine chest. I shoved the memory aside. This wasn’t about me. This was about Shay. The queen wanted something from her, I could sense it, and I was the only one standing in her way.

  “She doesn’t know how we live. She doesn’t understand our world,” I started cautiously.

  Iduna moved closer to me, while the princess continued to murmur words of adoration to the magical beast. “And do you?”

  “I grew up in this world, of course I understand it.”

  She tilted her head to the side, watching me curiously. “Yet, you are different. So very different from your father, your uncle.”

  I flushed. She knew. Somehow, she knew what I was. “Perhaps not.”

  “Oh, more than you realize, my dear.”

  I stiffened. What did she know that she wasn’t telling me?

  “You know, your mother visited me once. A long, long time ago.”

  I frowned. “Why?”

  “She wanted a baby so desperately, yet couldn’t seem to get with child. At least not by her husband.”

  “Obviously, she did eventually,” I snapped, in no mood for her games.

  “Did she?” She waved her hand through the air, dismissing our conversation. “But that’s a story for another time. What will you do to protect your Shay, Beast?”

  “Me?” I was confused by the sudden change in topic. “What can I do?”

  “There’s always something everyone can do. No one is helpless.” The queen looked at me with amusement. “And you can do so very much. So much more than most. We both know that.”

  She moved toward Shay, dismissing me.

  And you can do so very much. So much more than most.

  That monster deep within wasn’t me. If unleashed, I had no idea what would happen, who I would destroy. I couldn’t take that chance.

  “Never, ever tell anyone what you are,” my mother had taught me from such an early age.

  “There’s more, my dear,” the queen called out, lifting her hand and stroking Shay’s hair in a motherly way. “So much more to show you.”

  Despite the fact that we were outside, it felt stiflingly hot. The magic around us was thick, too thick, and it seemed to be growing. It was as if the air had vanished and I was left gasping. My hands curled as I resisted the urge to claw at the collar of my linen shirt.

  Shay smiled at the queen, completely at ease in this kingdom between realms. She had no worries, no fear, no hesitation. But then she didn’t understand. Didn’t realize the trickery of this world. The power the queen wielded. What we could lose. She only saw what we could gain.

  “What is it, dear?” Queen Iduna asked. “You seem a bit lost.”

  Shay hesitated, as if trying to understand something she just couldn’t comprehend. “I feel like we should leave. Like we’re missing something.”

  A sliver of reality whispered through my muddled mind. My hands fisted. Yes. Yes, we should. Fairy dust. That’s what we’d come here for. A way to save my kingdom. Prevent war.

  The queen tilted her head to the side, studying Shay. “Are you not enjoying yourself, my dear?”

  “I am. Very much.”

  The unicorn nudged Shay’s shoulder. Shay laughed, that musical sound that was all too rare, it was like a gift given on only a special occasion. “Amazing.”

  The queen smiled. “They trust you.”

  A blue bird fluttered onto a branch above, turning its little head this way, then that. No fear. No death. No hierarchy. The nymphs did not even dine on meat but only ate things grown from the ground. Everything was pure here. Everything but me.

  “It’s so lovely, it makes me nervous,” Shay whispered.

  The queen laughed. “Why do you humans always fear happiness? It’s quite silly. Here, we are all at peace, at one. Time does not matter, we live in the very moment. We are honest with our emotions, our feelings. We embrace happiness, we do not fear the future.” She held out her hand. The little blue bird fluttered down and rested on her finger. “Tis sad that all kingdoms can’t live this way.”

  “It is.” Shay frowned. “But…we don’t, do we?”

  The queen gave me a fleeting, mysterious smile. She was playing word games with Shay, drawing her in. It’s what they always did, what we were warned about. Yet, did her words not ring true?

  “I was told that humans once mated with natural beings,” Shay continued. “Producing the people in kingdoms like Acadia. Is that true?”

  “That silly nonsense? My dear, that’s the wrong question to ask. I think the better question is, what makes natural beings different from humans,” she said. “Do you know?”

  Shay shook her head.

  Games. I had no doubt Queen Iduna was playing games.

  “I’ll tell you.” She moved toward the unicorn. “Humans take power from others. While we, we harness our own.”

  Shay slid her hand down the neck of the unicorn. “What do you mean?”

  “We all have power, my dear Shay. Deep within.” She headed toward the edge of the creek and gazed into the shallow, clear water. “Human, fey, it doesn’t matter. All living beings are made up of energy. But humans became greedy and afraid. They feared they were becoming weak, and so went in search of more power, wanting to hoard it. They lost focus of their own ability, without realizing it was there all along, a part of them, buried deep within. Without connection to their own source, they had to get it elsewhere.”

  It made sense. It shouldn’t have, but it did.

  Queen Iduna moved toward a large elm.

  “And so we take it from the fairies,” Shay said, frowning.

  The queen turned to face her. She was a very part of the nature that surrounded us. Her hair shimmered and flowed down the trunk like water, twisting and wrapping around the branches. “Humans, unfortunately, take it from where they can. No matter who is hurt in the process.”

  She wore a gauzy dress, much like the one Shay wore. I frowned, studying Shay’s clothing. A beautiful dark blue gown that shimmered under the lantern light as if it was made of stars. When had she changed? I glanced down at my own outfit, the dark brown trousers and loose tunic unfamiliar.

  “I just can’t help but think there is something we need to do,” Shay continued, jerking me from my thoughts. “There’s something we’re looking for, but I can’t remember…”

  The queen laughed. “You humans! Everything is always so important, everything but actually enjoying life.”

  The glowing orbs that peppered the trees and gave light to the dark clearing started to float closer, whispering down around us in a language I didn’t understand.

  “Hold your hand up, my dear, into the air and wait.”

  Shay did what was told and held her hand up toward the sky. It took only moments before one of the glowing orbs floated down and landed on her palm like a snowflake in winter, but this didn’t melt. If anything, it seemed to glow more brightly. I couldn’t help myself and stepped closer. A tiny spark that danced upon her palm, sending golden dots into the air.

  Wisps, I realized with a start. And where there were wisps, there were fairies nearby. Another floated down, and another. The tiny glowing lights surrounded her, making her look otherworldly, ethereal. Blessed.

  But
wisps didn’t touch humans. They sure as hell didn’t land on them. Bless them, as these wisps seemed to be doing. Shay turned, facing me in all of her glorious splendor. With her gaze filled with awe and happiness, I realized that she belonged here. I was too damned for this world, but not her. Never Shay.

  “Do you see them?” she whispered. “What is it?”

  “Wisps,” I said. “Remnants of fairies. Almost like memories, or a trail. It means a fairy has been close.”

  She was lost in the magic of the wisps, I was lost in the magic of her. My throat constricted with an emotion I didn’t dare investigate. She should be here amongst nature, life, magic. Not stuffed inside some castle being pampered, doing nothing but being unappreciated. She laughed and the wisps lifted, floating away, leaving behind trails of glittering dust that peppered Shay’s dark hair and dress.

  I blinked from my stupor. No, wisps didn’t touch humans…unless encouraged. Unless a spell had been harnessed. This was the queen’s doing. Irritation and wariness combined into a lethal combination. I should have known the queen was using magic.

  The branches on the edge of the forest curled back, under the command of some unspoken spell. Iduna rested her hand on Shay’s shoulder, and gave her a gentle nudge toward the trail. “Go, my dear. Head back to the festivities. We’ll be along soon.”

  Shay gave me a hesitant glance, but did what the queen commanded. I watched her go with a desperation that hadn’t been there before, barely able to contain my mounting worry. I had this extreme fear I was losing her, when I never should’ve had her in the first place. The trees parted, crackling and popping back to allow her access to the trail. The unicorn neighed, shook his head, and then sauntered away, strolling along the bank. He had no interest in me.

  “What did you do to her?” I demanded.

  Iduna clasped her hands together in delight, her gaze still focused on the trail where Shay had disappeared. “Oh, I do like her.”

  “Queen Iduna,” I demanded, stepping closer than I had a right to stand. “You will tell me what you’re about. I know you’ve been practicing magic. I know—”

  “Yes, I do like her,” she sighed, ignoring me and starting toward the trail, following Shay’s path. “Which makes it unfortunate that she’s not the true princess.”