by Elisa Menz
“Oh, that gorgeous wild beauty! How is she?” he grinned.
“She... Flyg... she is all right. We freed her. And that is why we came to ask for your help.” Maeve took a step forward, pleading with him. “We can free everyone else and stop the killings, but we need to go near them first. And to do so, we need the magic you used to make Flyg and me sleep.”
The moment of truth.
Regn held his breath, waiting for Astika’s response. The naga stared at Maeve, every hint of flirtation gone. Regn watched him close his black eyes and idly stretch his neck before rising to his full height, his snake body sliding over the rugs. “I don’t see why I should bother myself with the troubles of the world. I’ve spent a lifetime building a haven for my brides and me, and as long as I can keep them and the gorgeous me living comfortably, I couldn’t care less for your half-breed companions.”
He had the nerve to smile at them!
“I would love to help, but it would interfere with my peaceful lifestyle.” Regn shook in rage. That snake! That selfish, heartless, fucking snake! He could probably kill him now he decided the death of hundreds of innocents was not worthy of him sharing some information. His hand moved to his knife once more; this time, he had all the intention of using it.
But Maeve moved faster.
She took two long strides, stood right in front of Astika, and—standing on her tiptoes—she slammed a fist into his chin. The hit barely reached, but it carried enough strength to stun the naga for a second.
Everyone in the room froze in shock, staring at the outraged young woman facing Astika, who was most likely a lot stronger than her. Maeve was furious. Her eyes blazed with rage. “You hear me now, you miserable worm! Children are dying! Men, women... slain! The dust forces innocent people to kill, and you expect me to leave this ridiculous place without a solution!”
Her nostrils flared, and her usually calm features transformed. She was breathing hard while clenching her fists. Regn’s jaw dropped as he saw his friend become this fierce creature. She looked amazing! If earlier he struggled to resist the urge to kill the naga, he now had to concentrate not to jump and kiss her.
“You are going to help us, or by the Ancients, I swear I will use any means I can get my hands on to skin you alive!” She had him tightly gripped by the silk robe, fuming.
Astika didn’t seem to be able to come to his senses. “I-I don’t...” He blinked. “It’s a simple potion, b-but... I can’t prepare as much as... I mean... you are going to need a lot!”
“Oh, but I can.”
They all turned to Dinnah, who was leisurely leaning against a wall, enjoying the spectacle with a cheeky smile on her face. She walked to Maeve with a glint of acknowledgment in her eyes. “I know the recipe. We all do. The brides will help you, and you two will be ready in a matter of days.”
“Dinnah! I could never ask you to do so much work!” Astika pleaded with her.
“You are not asking, my love. I’m offering it. I want to help these cuties, and I’d hate to see you gutted.” Dinnah turned to the door, waving her arms with grace. “I’ll rally the others, and we will begin at once. It’s going to take a few days, though, so you might need to bathe and rest.”
She turned to them and batted her eyelashes. “Come, come! I’ll show you to your room.”
CHAPTER XXXVIII
COLD NIGHT
Hakken
The pain threatened to sink him, make him curl on the Forest ground, and stay until death found him. But his body seemed to disagree. For almost twelve days, Hakken ran, only stopping for food and rest. An inexplicable yet unbreakable will stirred him.
Every step he took towards his village was one step away from Maeve, and his mind fought against it. He heard her sobs right after walking away, and the thought of her suffering haunted him even in his nightmares. The notion of yet another woman slipping from his arms was something he believed would have destroyed him.
Death took away his first love, and now Maeve had left him. And she was right to do so. He made a mistake—a terrible, unforgivable mistake when he took the life of that innocent man.
“I wish I could change it all back.” Hakken couldn’t tell if he spoke the words out loud as he moved through the Forest in a trance.
When Maeve ordered him to go back to the village, his first thought was to justify his actions. But what excuse could he give? His fear of losing her made him act rashly and do precisely what they wanted to prevent. More killings.
So he didn’t argue and did as told. He ran—all the way to the Children of the River village—to join Kniv and the warriors and help them do the right thing. Save their mountain brothers from the terrible fate looming over them.
If he wanted to help Maeve in some way, this was it. She had her challenges ahead, and he had to accept he was not the best person to be by her side right now. He would do his part, even if it meant he couldn’t be with her.
He had lived as a shadow of a man for far too long, and he now paid the price.
In his frantic race, he stumbled, staggering to catch himself and avoid crashing against a tree. Hakken had kept his emotions locked behind a wall of anger for years, but those walls began to crumble. He feared the grief hidden deep inside. But what crept from the cracks was a thousand times worse. Guilt. Guilt for the life he took and for the life he didn’t value.
This painful rejection was necessary to realize his selfishness could cost too much. He couldn’t allow it to happen again, not to others or himself. He had to do better if he hoped to be worthy of having Maeve by his side.
He reached the village in the middle of the morning.
Hakken arrived at a bustling display of activity. He was not the only one eager to end the madness. Warriors from many tribes joined their forces, camping and training on the outskirts of the village. Kniv, standing next to a group of well-seasoned fighters, displayed a deep frown, hinting how dire their conversation was.
His old friend raised his eyes and was shocked to see him return alone. He excused himself and walked to meet him. “Hakken, my boy! Where are Maeve and Regn?” he asked.
“They are all right, Kniv. They have work to do somewhere else.” He wanted to sound calm, but his voice rang hoarse and pained—too many days traveling alone with his thoughts.
Kniv studied him with worry. “What about you, boy? Are you all right?” Hardly anything escaped Kniv’s piercing eyes. And he looked awful. Normally, Hakken would shrug and avoid this conversation, but this was what he needed to change. He had to accept he couldn’t deal with some things all on his own.
Accepting this lightened his heart. He would tell Kniv everything, but more imperative matters were at hand.
“We’ll talk later.” He held Kniv's worried gaze. “Lead me to the warriors. I need to know what has happened with the horde. We must plan how to contain them.”
“Did Maeve and the Warlocks find a safe way to free them?”
“They did... with some help from the Ancients.”
Kniv stopped in his tracks and stared at him, half incredulous, half bewildered. “I don’t expect you to mean—”
Before he could finish, a loud horn resounded in the distance. Everyone in the village turned to witness a mounted force marching in their direction. Highland elves, at least fifty strong men and women. Leading them, a new acquaintance approached Hakken and nodded as a greeting. “Young Hakken, it is unexpected to see you away from little Maeve. I trust she is in good health.”
“I believe she is, Ancient Hua. She and Regn went ahead to the naga’s dwelling.” Hakken looked around at the Elven warriors and couldn’t help to be excited and optimistic about their possibilities. “I thank you for rallying our neighbors. We will need their help when the time comes.”
“It is the least I can do. Both for Paki and I, it will prove challenging stopping Pouri, so we will offer as much aid as we can.” The stag then turned to Kniv, who gawked at him. Hua couldn’t help a little smirk. “Good man, take me to your le
aders. We must discuss your plans.”
Maeve
Work had been strenuous. For the last couple of weeks, every bride in Astika’s shell palace eagerly joined their efforts to prepare the sleeping potion. But the number of ingredients was vast, and a couple of them required long travels to be acquired. It was impossible to work faster.
Regn and Maeve helped as much as possible, but since none of them were versed in potion making, they found other ways to assist.
Despite the urgency and everyone’s desire to help, they found themselves with a lot of free time. Almost inevitably, many brides joined in what had become a pastime for the women back in the village. To groom Maeve’s hair. She resisted at first, but coming to this point, she had been bathed, perfumed, combed, and braided more times than she cared to remember. At least Dinnah agreed to train with her daily, and both women sat together for a couple of hours, honing Maeve’s abilities.
On the other hand, Regn had successfully evaded the ladies’ attempts to primp him. He sneaked out of the palace early in the morning to help gather ingredients and sneak back as late as possible to sleep on the floor of the bedroom he shared with Maeve.
Yes.
They shared a bedroom—courtesy of Dinnah and her suspiciously naughty sense of humor. The room housed an incredibly large bed, but Regn insisted on sleeping on the floor, the farthest away from her he could.
The awkward situation made Maeve fluster. Even though she trusted Regn and didn’t mind his company, the fact he couldn’t contain his nervousness around her was an entirely different issue.
“Has that lovely boy made you a woman yet?” Dinnah’s playful voice shook her from her thoughts.
Maeve turned at least five different shapes of red before managing an answer. “I’m not even going to bother answering that!” Does she even know how to be discreet?
Dinnah chuckled, turning once more to grind the seeds they gathered the previous day. “I’m just curious, he seems really fond of you, and he is quite the looker,” she pouted, “are you not attracted to the poor lad?”
Maeve shook her head. “He is my friend! I care about him, but... I mean, he...!” She was making a fool of herself, her words pilling up. Maeve pressed her lips and frowned instead. “You are so annoying!”
Her frown would not deter Dinnah. “I don’t see the problem, I’m just suggesting a little healthy fun.”
“You might think that way, but for me, it’s a very important decision. They taught me a woman should only lay with her husband.”
The she-elf gagged. Apparently, the teachings of the church of the Ancients were not of her liking. “Such a waste of good company.” She let out a dramatic sigh. “I guess... if you think that way, young Regn is not the one you consider as a proper companion.”
Maeve knew the answer, but instead of allowing Dinnah into her thoughts, she lowered her eyes, focusing on grinding the seeds.
The change didn’t go unnoticed by the elf. “Oooh! So there is someone else!” True. Maeve couldn’t care less about keeping her virtue intact until her marriage, or any other hogwash the church might have forced on her. In fact, she was certain the thoughts roaming her mind would have set the church on fire if she were to confess them.
She missed Hakken. She wanted to see him, to hold him, to enjoy his rough hands on her. Maeve fantasized about his touch ever since that night in the Warlock’s pond, longing to be alone with him, carefree and relaxed. Every morning she imagined waking up with him, safe in his arms while he fondly doted on her like he used to. They would talk about simple things, beautiful things, and daydream about their future.
“Helloooo?” Dinnah waved a hand in front of her face, making her realize she was smiling.
“I don’t know what interesting thoughts crossed that pretty head of yours, but I’m sure now poor little Regn has no chance.”
It was late at night when Maeve entered her bedroom, dragging her feet. Dinnah had offered her a light dinner, and as usual, Regn was nowhere to be seen. She washed and went to sleep right after her meal, but as she entered the dim-lit room, she found Regn sitting on the small terrace that opened to the night sky. Their room occupied one of the highest section of the shell, still far from Astika’s room, which was a relief, given the never-ending parade of brides visiting his chambers.
She walked to sit next to Regn, who shuffled a little to give her space. They watched in comfortable silence as the last lights sank under the horizon. It was a cool, peaceful night. Out of the corner of her eye, Maeve saw dark figures flying high over the trees, soundlessly drawing near. One by one, the beautiful creatures flew past them in perfect harmony, filling the scenery with their gracious forms. “What are they?” she whispered, turning to Regn.
For an instant, his eyes reflected the setting sun and the shapes of the flying women. “Birch witches,” he answered, “better be quiet now. They have great hearing and don’t like to be bothered while they migrate.”
They both turned to gaze at them. Hundreds of women perched on blackened branches. Their gray skin, striped by dark carvings, so like the bark of a tree. Their delicate hands and dangling feet, the same color as charcoal. From their cheeks, a thick crown of branches raised above their heads, concealing their eyes.
A few turned to look at them, faint smiles on their faces. Maeve relaxed, enjoying some peace for the first time in days. It was a wonderful sight. Regn’s voice ringed by her side. “Maeve.”
“Mm...?” She was so serene she took a moment to turn to him. But when she did, all her senses came back heightened tenfold.
A gentle glint shone in Regn’s eyes when he reached to touch her face, leaning forward. If not for the intensity of the moment, Maeve wouldn’t have noticed the slight trembling of his hand. She remained still, captivated by his tenderness.
He didn’t crush his lips against hers. It was a soft kiss, almost coy. But then it wasn’t, and as the kiss became deeper and more demanding, she lost control over her powers. Maeve had mastered the ability to block the emotions she sensed when it was not a necessity. But now she couldn’t concentrate, and Regn’s feelings flooded her.
Maeve couldn’t resist the warmness taking over her body. Instead of pushing him away, she clutched his shirt, relaxing in his embrace while his hands traveled down her back.
My first kiss! Did the little peck she gave Hakken counted? He was almost unconscious, and she only grazed his lips. Why was she thinking about Hakken now? He was a brute! Impulsive and rude. And yes, she liked him that way, but Hakken wouldn’t kiss her delicately, he would—
“Damn it!” Regn broke the kiss and backed away a little too harshly. Maeve stared at him, not understanding what just happened.
He crossed his arms over his knees, his head hanging in defeat. And then she realized. With no tap over her own emotions, she had been fantasizing about Hakken, and Regn sensed every detail. Maeve covered her mouth, horrified. She had been thinking about Hakken while Regn kissed her!
“Regn—”
“Don’t bother,” he muttered.
Silence fell once more, now tense and awkward. Maeve took hold of her emotions but couldn’t think of a single word that could fix her awful mistake. She cared about Regn, but she now knew without a doubt the kind of love she harbored for him.
“Why do you love him?” He didn’t sound bitter, just... curious.
Maeve smiled. “I have no idea.” She straightened her back, resting her hands over her lap. “Or maybe I do, but I guess I should tell him first.”
Regn chuckled. “I guess.”
He looked like someone who had resigned to his fate, but his next words were pained. “Why wouldn’t you love me?”
His sadness was too much to bear. Maeve acknowledged the sting in her eyes and a lump in her throat as she slumped her shoulders. Part of that sadness came from her as well. But she loved him. Not the love she harbored for Hakken, nor the love she felt for her brother. It was deeper and more entangled than the love she could feel for a fr
iend. But she could never explain that to him.
“Silly boy.” Her voice might have hinted at some of her emotions because Regn turned, worried. Maeve offered him a hand. “Do you want me to show you?” As soon as Regn touched her, she pulled and wrapped her arms around him, opening the door to her heart and showing him, without restraint, what he meant to her. She loved him, she loved everything about him. It may not be what he hoped for, but it became clear, as they held each other, it was what he needed.
He broke their embrace first, leaning to touch her forehead with his. His smile returned as he stared into her eyes with profound gratitude. “You are wonderful.” Happy and serene, Maeve snuggled against him. After another long day, she needed to rest.
Regn hugged her, staring into the stars and taking a deep, calming breath. “Do you think I’ll ever find someone who cares about me as you care about him?”
“I don’t see why not? But it will be hard if you keep running away from women.”
Regn laughed. “I will not risk my integrity by staying within reach from these brides.”
They talked and laughed almost the entire night. When the chilly breeze hit them, they wrapped themselves in wool blankets, not wanting to leave each other’s company. The fall had arrived, and the nights were getting colder.
CHAPTER XXXIX
RISE
Maeve
From the moment she punched Astika in the face, gaining the favor of Dinnah, Maeve swayed between measured optimism and absolute despair. The potion finally gave them a little advantage. Saving the mountain half-breeds and preventing their allies from being killed or harmed no longer sounded impossible.
The brides, Regn, and herself worked ceaselessly. Even so, the fear of arriving too late ate her.
Regn tried his best to calm her, but even he started to lose his patience. All he could do now was staring while Maeve went on one of her daily rants about how they should do more.