“That is, doubtlessly, an exceptional dress to present, Orenda. I would be very surprised if the queen does not take it, but if not, I am certain it will dress one of our nobles or princesses. Thank you for gifting us your exceptional talent. You and Fini shall accompany us in two days’ time to present your work for selection. Good luck,” she says with a wink as she closes the door behind her.
Fini laughs and tugs me along as we make our way again through the labyrinth. “Unbelievable! I am so excited for you—for both of us since I get to come along too! This is a dream come true. The queen may also know how to return you to your normal size… if you want, that is,” she says. Her smile dims but I know she’s just trying to be a good friend.
I nudge her gently with my shoulder and grin. “Actually, I think I’m going to stay. This place, my hive, my work… I can’t imagine a more perfect way to spend the rest of my life.”
As expected, she squeals happily and wraps her arms around me, practically picking me up from the ground as she hugs me. “That is such wonderful news! And I am sure your hive will be so happy to hear your decision.”
I laugh and hug her back. “I knew you would be thrilled. I’m just trying to think of the best way to tell my mates to make it… well… special.”
“Oh, yes, I see what you mean. Pixie males can be a bit difficult at times. Sometimes it just takes the right words to create the right magic.” Her smile widens mischievously as she spies something beyond my shoulder. Curious, I turn as she strides forward with me in tow.
“Orel!” she shouts, and my beautiful blue male turns curiously toward her. “Orenda wants to be covered in your love dust for the rest of your lives!”
My mouth gapes open as I am dragged behind her. “Fini! I could have fucking done that!”
15
Orel
I stare at Fini, uncertain if I heard her correctly. My eyes shift to my queen, seeking confirmation. Her embarrassment floods through the mate bond, but it is unable to eclipse her happiness. Though her face is reddened, her eyes dance as she smiles at me. I am unable to restrain my glee. Letting out a loud whoop, I pluck my queen from the ground and hoist her up into my arms. She laughs and drops kisses upon my brow plates and cheeks. I can hear the laughter of the other queens watching us, but I do not care.
Spreading my wings wide, I take off into the air, shouting triumphantly. I know I should take her back to the nest to wait for the rest of our hive to join us, but my hive brothers are still occupied—and besides, I want to celebrate. Holding her tightly to my chest I zip through the air, beyond the nearest ponds, to the most beautiful pond I know of near the borders of our territory. Orenda laughs breathlessly in my arms as we speed through the air, far quicker than my customary pace, but I can’t wait to get her alone. Now that she’s agreed to be ours, I am eager, my cocks hard and throbbing with pent up desire. I wish to make love to her on a lotus pad beneath the open petals.
She is still chuckling when I set her down, my hands skating over her shoulders eagerly. For the first time, I notice the pixie silks encasing her body and my wings hum with pleasure. She grins up at me, her fingers tracing the line bisecting my abdominal muscles.
“What are you doing, Orel?” she whispers huskily.
“Showing my adoration for my queen,” I breathe, my muscles quivering beneath her touch.
“Adoration.” She laughs again, her hand dipping lower until her hand brushes the heads of my cocks beneath my wrap. I nod mutely as pleasure swamps over me. The entire world feels like it is rippling around me. Her hand pauses and I groan in protest.
“Orel, what was that?” she whispers. The fear in her voice jerks me fully into the present, my wings spreading in alarm.
This time I feel it as the lily pad rocks beneath us, jostling us further apart. I reach for my mate, to pull her safely into my arms and take off with her, but a stone hits the water nearby, splashing water over me. I am nearly swept off the lily pad, and it is only with great effort that I cling to it, coughing up water. I wipe the moisture out of my eyes and find to my horror that I am alone.
I hear a voice. It is the voice of a zaabi, its tones too deep and out of focus for me to clearly discern the words. I glance around and see a troll youngling splashing through the water in careless play right in my direction. I hurriedly scan the water, searching for any sign of my queen. In a panic, I jump to another pad, my damp wings barely carrying me aloft the small distance.
She isn’t there! Everywhere I look, I cannot see her small body. I know that unlike pixies, she can swim almost as well as a water sprite. Being submerged in free-flowing water will not threaten her wellbeing. But with zaabi so near, I am racing over the pads, my heart pounding in my chest as I search for her before it can come any nearer.
“Orenda!” I shout over and over. There is no answer, but I can feel her, a tiny spark through the mate bond. She is alive… but where?
I freeze as a shadow falls over me. The troll is looking down at me with curiosity, a smile twisting his round face. Angry, I attempt to buzz my wings threateningly, but they barely flap with the liquid weighing them down. I am so waterlogged and chilled that I am not even sure if I can summon my fire. I attempt to summon it up repeatedly, becoming more anxious as he reaches for me. At the last minute, a long flame flares from my mouth, startling the youngling.
He stumbles back, his eyes wide and his lower lip sucked in fearfully, not unlike the expression that my Orenda makes. I bare my teeth and his menacingly at him. I know that he cannot hear the sound, but it is obvious he can clear my expression clearly enough. He turns and begins to splash back toward the shore. I am relieved until he stops, pauses in his course, and looks down. I can feel a heaviness seep into me, settling into my belly with horror.
No. Lady of Stars, please don’t let it be Orenda!
Even though I cannot get up into the air to see, when he leans down and cups his hand, I know that it is my queen that he scoops out of the water. He pauses, his head held against his chest. I struggle across the pads, trying to make my way to him. Screaming at him to not take my mate.
He doesn’t hear me any more than I can understand him, and he sloshes through the water until he stumbles up the embankment and darts into the forest. I can hear voices calling in the forest that he seems to be heading toward. He disappears all too soon from my sight, and I collapse in grief.
Hot tears falling down my face, I glare in the direction in which he disappeared. I will get my hive and we will accompany the gathering to the troll queen. She will see to it that our queen is returned to us, one way or another.
Unable to fly, I sink to my knees, my wings spread out behind me waiting as each minute painfully passes by until I can return to my nest and alert my hive.
16
Orenda
I cough and shiver despite a warmth I can feel coming from some distance away. It feels like I’m in a huge cavern with a fire yards away with no hope of warming the chill from me. Where did all the fucking heat go? Groaning, I twitch and turn, flopping over on my back on the hard surface. Wincing, I hiss in discomfort. Okay, my cot is nowhere near as comfortable as the bed, but it’s not this hard.
Dread burns in my chest. I am not in my nest.
Coughing again, I peel my eyes open and stare at what can only be described as a giant’s ceiling. What the fucking hell? From the sluggish depths of my mind memories of standing with Orel on the lily pad and him starting to engage in some rather carnal celebratory play swims up through my mind. I bolt up, my head spinning. I fell into the water! I recall getting tangled in… something. From there, I have nothing. Someone must have found me and took me home. Now the question is whether or not that is a good thing.
Pushing up onto my knees I glance down the long wooden length of what I must surmise to be a table. It begins to tremble slightly with the vibration of something walking my way. I turn and nearly piss myself when an enormous woman approaches the table. A smaller green individual clings to her, b
ut she pats his head and sends him off. Her brow on her large face is knitted with concern and she speaks. Her voice booms around me and I wince, cupping my hands to my ears. She grimaces and lowers her voice, but I still cannot discern what she is saying.
I point to my ear and shrug helplessly. “I’m sorry. I don’t understand you.”
She frowns and breath expels from her in a lengthy sigh. Yeah, she gets it. She can’t understand me either. Her lips suddenly lift in a smile and she holds up a finger. Walking away, she opens a drawer at the other end of the enormous kitchen and returns with paper and a pen.
I clap my hands with excitement. Yes! Now let’s both hope that we speak the same language.
Sitting down on the table, she hastily writes something out and lifts the paper. The letters are so large that it makes it difficult to read. I wave her back. Maybe if she steps back a bit I will be able to make it out better. She looks down at the paper and then at me. I can see when the a-ha moment comes to her because she smiles at me sheepishly, her brown eyes dancing with mirth as she backs away from where she’s crouching next to the table.
As gets further away, the words swim into view and I read it aloud.
“‘Are you human?’ Yes!” I shout and nod my head emphatically.
She grins and cups the paper in her hand as she writes. This time, when she lifts the paper, her handwriting is a bit less legible, but I can still read it.
“‘Do you need help?’ Hell yeah, I need help. I need to get back to my hive.” I know she has no idea what I’m saying and unfortunately this handy trick isn’t going to work in reverse, so again I nod.
She purses her lips and nods seriously. After some contemplation, she writes again.
“‘My son Cavekji found you. I will take you to the troll queen. She will know what to do.’ Well fuck. I guess I’m cooling my heels for a couple of days until the pixies arrive with the clothes. Not how I wanted to arrive at the troll court. Poor guys are going to be so worried,” I sigh.
She gives me a puzzled look as I ramble on to myself, stressing over how Orel is probably flipping out. And Shavish has already probably gone straight through the roof. I reluctantly nod and she gives me an apologetic smile.
“‘I’m Kate. Are you hungry?’ Yeah,” I mutter, nodding my head, my tummy growling as it makes its presence known as I finally take note of the smell of some kind of soup cooking. “I’m also cold.” I rub my arms briskly for emphasis and she nods and steps away, leaving the room.
A short time later, she arrives with a bit of cut fabric that’s just a little bigger than I am. She sets it on the table in front of me, and I quickly pick it out and wrap myself in it. The larger weave has gaps that still make me a bit chilly, but it does the job well enough.
I watch her with interest as she pulls a thimble out of her pocket, rinses it off in water, and turns to her stove to fill it. She sets it in front of me, like the biggest cup in existence. It’s only a quarter full so it’s not too heavy as I lift it and tip it back, drinking the broth.
Oh, so good. I sigh as it warms me up inside.
I watch as the small green dude—Cavekji, I’m guessing—scurries up the table. He’s a bit loud, but the happy enthusiasm on his face is endearing as he watches me.
Crossing my legs, I settle onto the table, tucking my makeshift blanket around me. I guess all I can do now is wait. Once again, my mind returns to my hive and I am filled with a persisting sadness. My stubborn nature demands that I strike out through the forest and find my way home as I would have before, but I am not stupid. My size is considerably smaller, turning even the shortest of distances into long treks. That’s not even taking into account that I have no way of knowing where I am at. I’m not going to leave and try to hunt them down. Hopefully this queen can get me back home.
I just wish that there was some way I could tell them that I’m okay.
17
Dazi
I buzz my wings impatiently as I wait with my hive for the gathering to prepare to depart the colony. Fini holds the box containing the creation she crafted with my queen, her face drawn into sad lines and her countenance that of one distracted by her thoughts. She has been quiet since hearing of Orenda’s disappearance.
She is not the only one. Orel has had little desire for anything but to grapple with his own grief and the self-blame that fuels it. He refuses to do anything that doesn’t allow him the freedom to inquire for our mate. Fortunately, Gwin hasn’t left his side, forcing my brother to eat and care for himself. I am glad that he has because I’ve noticed my own temper become withdrawn and hostile toward my hive.
Though I have always been the moderate one of our hive, I recognize that over the last two days I feel nothing but angry and impatient. My scrolls, which have always been my refuge, mock me. Now when I look upon my study all I see is Orenda, teasing me for my late hours, or looking over my shoulder in fascination while I read. Her scent is attached to everything and I have no respite from my sorrow. The need to do something… anything… pricks at me, and any patience I may have once had is now quickly exhausted.
For the first time, I have some insight on how Shavish feels.
Although Orel blames himself for our queen’s fate, Shavish is taking it the hardest. I hear him late at night, flying through the hive or just outside of it circling. He rages helplessly beyond even my rage. Although he doesn’t take his anger out on us, it is a persistent painful fracturing within our bond as if our lead male is slowly self-destruction and the bond crumbling with him. He grows increasingly volatile since the elders refused his request that we approach the troll queen on our own behalf.
There is only enough magic dust collected and purified to temporarily make a pixie the size of a zaabi, for increasing the scale of goods is a far simpler spell, so to make our trades and return her to her normal size again. We are left with no other option but to wait and accompany the gathering into the heart of the troll kingdom. Now that the day has finally come, my entire hive waits on edge, our dark eyes watching the company of females and their male escort and guards as they prepare.
Shavish glances at me, his brow plate lowered as he watches the procession form. We are not physically capable of mining the gold that can be altered by magic to create an elixir to aid in our health, and so the procession of the gathering and the hope to obtain more medicinal gold powder always makes it a lavish occasion. An elder stands on a tall rock, her arms open as she addresses the crowd, reminding everyone how mutually beneficial our relationship with the trolls is, and how the best of our crafters toil to bring home the flakes of gold.
My hands tense into fists. Orenda should be there among the hopefuls. She should be at Fini’s side, celebrating and happily anticipating her reception by the queen. Not kidnapped by an unknown troll youngling, suffering an unknown fate. All we know is that alive, but she is distant from us, which does not help with our internal battles. I exchange another look with Shavish, willing for the ceremonies to conclude. Even Gwin’s lips are pursed with irritation, and Orel looks ready to murder the elder on the spot for droning on so long.
Finally, the crowd cheers as the elder steps down from the rock and the procession starts forward with a chime of chitin vibrating on males in attendance, the sound of bells waved about on long poles with colorful silk banners and various drums and instruments lending brightness to the air—everywhere except where our anger repels its vibrancy. We are a dark spot within the gathering, our lights pulsating angrily with every impatient buzz of our wings. Another elder glances our way in disapproval but I do not care. I return his gaze with a stubborn glower.
“Finally,” Orel hisses as he breaks free from his introspections, his gaze focused on the forward surge of the gathering procession. I nod in agreement and, as one, our hive lifts from the tree branch on which we were settled and join the outer edges. After a short time, my brother sighs. “Orenda would have loved to see this.”
I look around and silently agree. All the pixies move
through the forest in the appearance of a long river of light twining among the trees. It takes us hours to fly from our colony, over the ponds and marshy areas, before we see the first of the troll dwellings at the edges of our territory. It is a bit unnerving to see trolls stop at whatever activity occupies them to watch us silently, but the cries of delight from younglings in the distance at least brings a smile to my face. No matter the species, young ones share such similarities in their open approach and pleasure in the world around them.
When we arrive, the palace is a massive nest that juts up at such an enormous height that I am forced to tilt my head back if I have any hope of seeing the upper levels without breaking formation and flying up to investigate them. I secretly hope our queen is within. I have felt her presence in our bond grow stronger as we approached the palace, but I cannot be certain.
A giant of a male in armor turns at our approach and leads us through the doors into a network of halls, away from the main reception area. The females who lead the gathering are not concerned, so it is clear that they are accustomed to the protocols and the route we are traveling, although it seems to me that we follow the troll for a long time without yielding any result. The queen apparently is deep within her giant nest.
When the guard opens a door and directs our company inside, we are led into a room decorated in numerous shades of pink with red accents. The queen smiles with clear excitement at our approach, her purple hair falling in a wild array down her shoulders. The brilliant fuchsia dress she wears rustles loudly as she turns on her stool to face us.
I eye the pixie who flutters to the fore, wanting to dart up to her side and demand that she let one of us take her place. I do retain enough sense to know that would work against us. Even now, a number of males in the procession guard eye us suspiciously. Gwin slaps a hard hand on his brother’s arm, silently bidding him restraint as I grind my teeth together. Orel at my side can barely hold himself in place as we hover with the formation.
Blooming Desire Page 36
