They looked cute, but could turn nasty. This pair was likely bonded mates, which meant they were close to the point of sharing thoughts. High-pitched voices chattered excitedly.
“This is worth a lot of honey —”
“— and milk.”
“Yum! It goes down —”
“— like silk.” They exchanged sharp-toothed grins and rubbed their stomachs.
Clio held out her palm. When the pixies landed and gave her their attention, she said, “We need a favor to make him a savior.”
The pixies’ faces scrunched into identical frowns.
“Not sure that’s —”
“— a match,” they confided to each other.
The second nodded. “Feels more like —”
“— a patch.”
Clio shook a finger at them. “You get the gist. Or do you want a list?”
They took off in alarm and flapped backward toward the cabinet.
“No! No! Not one —”
“— of those!”
“We all know how —”
“— that goes.”
“If you give my friend aid, I’ll add to what you're paid.”
The pixies shook their heads.
“No. He is —”
“— too big.”
“Yeah. This is —”
“— our gig.”
“He is far, far too —”
“— not small.”
“The milk! He will drink —”
“— it all!” They clapped tiny hands to their cheeks and exchanged horrified looks.
Clio’s yellow eyes fixed on Norrix. She arched an eyebrow and inclined her head toward the pixies.
Norrix cleared his throat. “Please, it’s the only way. I promise not to take any pay.”
The tiny Fae studied him for what seemed like forever.
“Okay, we suppose he can give it —”
“— a try.”
“But we don't want to hear —”
“— him cry.”
“I will do my best to pass your test.”
The pixies drew small swords. “Do you swear —”
“That you will wear —”
“Our sparkle and glow —”
“So all will know —”
“You’re one of us —”
“— not superfluous.”
Why was there always lunacy when Dragăs were involved? How many baths would this take to be rid of the green sparkles? Please let no one ever invoke the Witness and ask about this. Thank all the gods pixies don’t pee on things to mark their territory. “I cannot say no. I swear to do so.”
The pixies hovered above Norrix’s head and flapped, showering him with sparkling dust until he was thoroughly covered. He resisted the urge to sneeze. That would probably offend them. He lifted his hands, now shining a radioactive green. It could be worse. At least Alaric wasn’t here to see Norrix sparkly. He hoped his Dragă was in her room. Otherwise, he’d have done this for nothing.
But would she run from him again? Maybe he should buy more present and stack them like a barricade.
Clio lifted a chain from around her neck, revealing a metal circle of entwined gold, copper, silver, and some sort of black metal, with a straight edge protruding from it. She closed her hand over it for a moment. When she pulled her fingers away, a copper key shone. The pixies each touched the key with their tiny hands, and it reverted to its previous form.
“We know where —”
“— to go.”
“Come on. Don’t —”
“— be slow.”
With a grin entirely too happy, Clio stacked the gifts in Norrix’s arms like a Tetris puzzle, building the pile in front of his face so he couldn’t see. The pixies perched one on each side of the top.
“One and Two will give you directions.” She walked where he could see her to examine him up and down dubiously. With a wink and double finger guns pointed at him, she lowered her voice. “I hope you don’t get any infections.”
Her words sent an unscratchable itch over his skin. It wouldn’t surprise him if there was a side effect. If there was, he would have retribution on Clio for doing this to him. “If that should happen, I know an Assassin,” Norrix muttered.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
FABLE
FABLE SQUISHED HERSELF into the corner and hugged her legs. Where was Tizoc? He went away for a long time. Maybe he wouldn’t come back anymore. Everybody always went away.
Even Nantli left. Fable put her head on her knees and rocked back and forth. Nantli, please come back. A hand touched hers, and she froze.
She had to pay more attention! It was dangerous to get surprised. Her head snapped up.
But it wasn’t a mean man. A girl, about the same size as Fable, but made of silver sparkles, stood in front of Fable and smiled. “Hi!”
Warm tingles spread from her hand up Fable’s arm. Her shivers stopped and her scared feeling disappeared.
Who are you?
“I'm Soră.”
You can hear me?
“Why wouldn’t I hear you?” Soră laughed. “You’re talking to me, aren’t you?”
Fable glanced to the door.
“Don’t worry. Only you can see and hear me. I’m not strong enough to come here all the way yet. But I’m excited I found you! What's your name?”
That was supposed to be a secret. Nantli said they should never tell anyone their names.
“It’s okay. You don’t have to tell me. I will call you cel mic.”
What does that mean?
“Little one.”
Fable scowled. I don't like to be little.
Soră spun in a circle. “I do!”
You are little.
“I could be big if I wanted to. But adults are boring. Girls are more fun. You don’t say I’m not real. Or tell me I have to behave. Or pretend you can’t see or hear me.”
Maybe she could have two friends. My name is Fable.
“And your mom is Myth? That's perfect!”
You know Nantli?
“I just tried to meet her, but her magic is stuck. She was thinking about you. I followed the connection to find you.”
Nantli was thinking about her!
“She is always thinking about you. She loves you more than anything.”
Fable’s eyes were hot even though her heart felt happy.
Are you a witch?
“No. I’m magic.”
What kind of magic?
“Strygoi magic.”
What’s strygoi?
“A special witch who can use my magic. They love changed ones.”
What's a changed one?
“Mostly boys. They are bossy, live a long time and make their Dragăs happy.” Soră scowled. “They’re supposed to, anyway. I think they forgot how to behave while I was... Asleep.”
How long did you sleep?
“A thousand years. I only woke up a week ago, so I’m not very strong again yet. But so far the changed ones are doing things all wrong.”
But you're magic. Can you make them do what you want?
“No. I am magic, but I can’t use it very well. I can only share it with strygoi. They can... One calls it poofing. They disappear and go other places.” Soră disappeared.
Fable jumped to her feet.
“Poof!” Soră reappeared on the other side of the room.
If Fable was a strygoi, she could find Nantli and poof.
“And they can make things appear.” Soră closed her eyes tight and held out her hand. Magic flashed and a silver ribbon appeared in her hand. “They can use lightning.” Tiny forks of lightning danced across her fingers. “And they can go to Dragă space. They can teach my magic how to new things. Look.” Black wings grew out of Soră’s back and a small sword appeared in her hand. “I’m learning how to fight. But I’m not very good at it yet.”
Can you teach me?
“I will try. You are me are going to be the bestest of friends.”
C
HAPTER NINETEEN
MYTH
DANGEROUS LONGINGS whirled through Myth. It was the right thing to do, leaving that man, wasn’t it? Then why did her feet want to go back? Why did her arms still tingle? Why did her heart flutter like a trapped hummingbird when her mind wouldn’t stop imagining his eyes, golden then dark? Had he put magic on her when he touched her?
A fist pounded on the door and Myth jumped up from the couch, dropping the book she was hugging. Ice in her veins, heart suddenly a rock in her chest, it took several moments for the realization she was safe to sink in. Gajo and Apan couldn’t find her. Maybe it was Clio. The staccato pounding, high and low, sounded like fists and feet, resumed as she hesitated.
When she opened the door, two green balls of light hovered in front of her face. Pixies. Like the ones who delivered orders in the pub.
Pointing at one another, their high-pitched voices chanted at the same time. “She’s One, and she’s Two.” They turned toward the man. At least, she thought it was a man, with them. He glowed and sparkled every bit as green as the pixies, arms piled high with a vast assortment of wrapped packages. “The big guy is new.”
Myth stared. What were they doing here? She hadn’t ordered anything.
One of the pixies buzzed close to Myth’s nose.
“Well, what do —”
“— you say?”
“Will you get out of —”
“— our way?”
“No need to be rude.” That voice. The man from the auction. The one whose arms felt safe. Myth inhaled and caught her breath. What should she do? Slam the door? Before she could decide, the pixies turned indignantly to their over-sized companion.
“That, was in no way —”
“— a rhyme.”
“I knew he was a waste —”
“— of time.”
“Don’t even know why you —”
“— were hired.”
“And now, you are —”
“— definitely fired.”
“We take back —”
“— our glow —”
“And are going —”
“— to go.”
The green aura around the man blinked out, and sparkles fell to the floor around his feet. The pixies flew down the hall, annoyed voices fading.
Laughter, something becoming more familiar and welcome, bubbled up in Myth. She let it out, first in small giggles, then in fits.
The stack of stuff tilted precariously, and the man adjusted his hold. “May I come in?”
Myth bit her lip. “Are... you sure this is the right room?”
“Yes. These are for you.”
All of them? “Oh...” He seemed much bigger now that she wasn’t pressed up against him.
“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. I don’t have a key and didn’t see the way here. I can set these down outside your door, if you want.”
But would he leave after that? She should want him to go. It was safer if he wasn’t here. “Please, come in.” Her mouth said the words without permission, but once they were out, relief eased the tightness in her chest.
He crossed the threshold and stopped. “Where should I put them?”
“Oh. Um, I guess on the table?” How stupid of her. He couldn’t see. Without thinking, she moved around the stack of boxes and extended her hand. Myth hesitated only a fraction of a second, then touched his elbow. “This way.” She guided him through the room to a low table in front of the fireplace. “The table is right in front of you.”
He knelt and set the packages down. “Whew. I wasn’t sure I’d make it without dropping some of them.”
“I think you would have been in even more trouble with the pixies.”
“Probably. The job with them was only a temporary thing, and I’ll make sure to send them some milk and honey. They’re ferocious but pretty easily placated.”
What was she supposed to do now? She’d never had a guest before. Did she have anything to offer him? Her mouth opened and closed. Her fingers curled into fists, then straightened to smooth down her dress.
He remained on his knees, but turned to face her when she sat near him. “I’m Norrix. Will you tell me your name?”
Norrix. He’d asked her about her name before, but how did he know she had one? She’d never said it to anyone. Her mother had used their telepathy to tell her the names of the women before them.
“My name is Myth.” She stiffened. Why did her mouth say things she shouldn’t around him? The names of all the women in her family were closely guarded secrets, never uttered aloud. She, and they, were only ever called Esne.
“Myth.” Norrix tilted his head to the side like he was listening to something she couldn’t hear over the pounding of her heart at the sound of her name spoken aloud.
“Are you all right?”
Unsure the answer was yes, Myth nodded anyway.
“Myth. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to overwhelm you. Clio suggested I buy you some gifts.” He chose one of the boxes and handed it to her. “Here. Open this one.”
Myth studied Norrix’s face. Iqiohr, when he had given her gifts, always carried an air of expecting something in return. Norrix had kind eyes that seemed to watch for her reaction rather than some sort of acknowledgement of debt.
Maybe Norrix was like a fairy godmother. Fairy godfather? An entry in the encyclopedias she’d read mentioned equality of the sexes on some worlds.
She accepted the box and turned the package over in her hands, looking for where to start. The paper formed neat seams and corners, and she cautiously picked at one, wincing when the shiny wrapping tore. Her gaze flew to his face.
He smiled. “You don’t have to be careful. Tear it to shreds if you want.”
Before she could think too much about it, she dug her fingers in and ripped a swath off with a satisfying sound, letting the paper fall to the floor. Then another. And again, until the gift lay revealed. A stunning book bigger than her lap, with an elaborately carved wooden cover depicting scrolls, but when she opened it, the pages were blank. Myth turned curious eyes toward Norrix.
Hands clasped in his lap, he leaned forward, shoulders hunched, like he feared her. “Clio told me you like to collect stories. I thought you could use this to write them down.”
Her insides felt gooey. All soft and warm. “Thank you.”
Norrix relaxed. “I’m glad you like it. I know a good first story you could put in your book. Will you come with me?”
Myth stared at the ripped paper on the floor. Iqiohr told her she wasn’t to talk to anyone about, or do anything other than buy the knife at the auction. What should she do?
A scintilla of something like electricity pulsed in her mind, sending a jolt through her body that made her want to lean toward Norrix. What was that? The sensation was new, yet familiar. Some part of her she’d never known.
“First time in Ashana?”
First time anywhere. Myth nodded. “I’m just here for a couple days.” She squeezed her eyes shut. This time.
“You should see as much of it as you can, then. If you’re worried about someone spotting you with me, you don’t have to.” He sorted through the gifts on the table and handed her a second. “This may ease your concerns.”
This present was wrapped in green paper that she tore without pause to reveal the softest gold silk. It was elegant material, but did he think she could sew? She stood to unfold it, and ended up holding a floor length hooded cape. Brilliant swirls of red, blue, orange, and green decorated the front.
“Oh!” She couldn’t stop a cry of delight. It was the most colorful garment she’d ever seen, and it was for her! Now Norrix definitely felt like a fairy godmother. She slid her hands into the long, hanging sleeves, did up the buttons, and ran to the mirror in the bathroom. Nothing of her white dress showed, and the hood was so deep no one would see her face.
She spun in place and hurried back to the living room where Norrix had risen from the floor. Myth collided with him and threw her ar
ms around his waist.
Norrix held her close, and his deep voice rumbled through her. “So, you like it?”
“It’s the most beautiful thing anyone has ever given me. Thank you!” They were touching, and she didn’t care. No one could see them. And with this cape, she didn’t feel like an Esne. She could be whoever she wanted.
“Would you like to see some story ideas for your book?”
Myth pulled away and nodded as she scooped up the blank storybook. He walked to the door, stopped, and held out his hand.
She stared at his fingers, waiting for the distaste that caused her stomach to roil at the idea of touching someone other than Iqiohr in public. It didn’t come. Myth slipped her fingers into his. Still nothing bad. Only tingles that made her heart flutter. Holding Norrix’s hand felt so natural, especially when they walked down the corridor and his thumb drew little circles over her skin, sending comforting warmth up her arm.
When they reached the lobby, she stopped. So many people. The sights, sounds, and smells of the circus nearly overwhelmed her. He seemed to sense her distress. “Morning person or night owl?” His voice made a bubble around her, letting her focus on one thing amid all the chaos.
“What? Who?”
“You.” He chuckled, but when he laughed, it didn’t feel like he was making fun of her. “Do you like mornings or evenings better?”
She couldn’t keep the bitterness out of her voice. “Everything is all about the sun where I’m from.”
“You don’t sound like a fan.”
“If I never saw the sun again, I don’t think I would mind.”
“Night owl, then. Good to know.”
Did he not like the sun, either? He sounded so happy. Myth glanced back at him to see a smile on his face that made his golden eyes crinkle at the edges. She made him look like that. A thrill went through her, awakening feelings in parts of her body that had never stirred before.
Was this some kind of magic? Good magic? Staring up at him, into his kind eyes, spread the new sensations all through her and she gasped as gold darkened to amber. Maybe it should frighten her his eyes changed colors. What did that mean?
Myth's Legend: Norrix Page 12
