by C. E. Olson
Realms of
Stone and Gold
BY: C. E. OLSON
Realms of Stone and Gold
C. E. Olson
Published by Emily Wilson, 2021.
Copyright © 2021 C. E. Olson
Written by C. E. Olson
Edited by Hannah McAuliffe
All rights reserved.
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the authors.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanic, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
ISBN-13: 978-1-955054-16-4
Printed in the United States of America
Table of Contents
Title Page
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Realms of Stone and Gold
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven | Aine
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten | Aine
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen | Aine
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen | Aine
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three | Aine
Six Months Later
GLOSSARY
ABOUT THE AUTHORS
ALSO BY
For all the bisexuals in straight-passing relationships. You are still valid.
Chapter One
The sweat permeating the air inside of Teag’s Tavern is enough to make Varis nauseous. For a man used to blood, guts, and gore, this should surprise him — but some of Ostusen’s lowest forms of life frequent this tavern. He simply likes to forget that he’s one of them.
Whiskey stings his tongue and burns his throat as he swallows too much at once, but he can already hear the whispers surrounding him. “Bastard,” they call him. “Killer.” As if what he does isn’t at the mercy of the King, as if he’s not protecting them each time he earns that moniker. Still, it’s better than some of the others.
Varis ignores the sounds and smells assaulting his senses as he scans the space for his brother. So far, Reeve is nowhere to be found, but that fact doesn’t exactly come as a shock. He’s used to his only sibling popping in and out of his life as he pleases, though the man usually has enough sense to be punctual.
Usually.
Today, it seems that Reeve is determined to make Varis as uncomfortable as possible before making what’s sure to be a grand entrance. He should’ve never agreed to come here, to sit at this dusty, dirty bar and listen to those dreaded whispers, but a flick of his hand toward Teag himself has his glass refilled again and his uneasiness settles. If nothing else, he’ll sleep well tonight.
“You look troubled,” Teag grunts out. “Would you like me to pretend to care?”
“No, that won’t be necessary,” Varis replies before pulling another swig of whiskey through his teeth. “I’m always troubled. It’s part of my charm.”
Teag nods. “Speakin’ of your charms—” he jerks his head toward the corner of the tavern “—seems you’ve been spotted.”
Varis’ gaze doesn’t waver. “And? Are you a matchmaker all of a sudden, Teag? Wasn’t aware that was in your skillset.”
“It’s not. But you attract trouble, Fae Hammer. Trouble a lowly barkeep like meself doesn’t welcome. Sooner I can get you outta me bar, the better.”
The frown that spreads across Varis’ face is equal parts sarcasm and seriousness. “I’m not interested in that tonight, Teag. I’m meeting Reeve here.”
“Is that s’posed to make me feel better?” Teag snaps. “Your brother is a menace, same as you. Last time you two came in here, I had to rebuild half me bar when you left.”
That particular memory is actually a fond one, but Varis doesn’t allow himself to reminisce. Instead, he pulls out his coin purse and plucks two silver pieces from the velvet and slides them over. “Here, then. For your troubles.”
Teag’s expression changes quickly as he pockets the coins. “That’s more like it. Enjoy your evening, Master Kester. I’ll have a bottle sent over when your brother shows up.”
He’s not the master of anything but the double axe he wields, and the formal title makes him roll his eyes. It doesn’t fit — not his post, not his personality — yet King Balian had insisted he take it when he came of age. “How gracious,” he quips without a trace of humor. “But bring it now, I have no interest in sitting here empty-handed until he decides to show his face.”
As if on cue, Teag sets the bottle down in front of him just as the bar door bursts open and Reeve steps inside. He inhales that raunchy scent with a grin that could be seen clear across the bar and he opens his arms wide when he spots Varis. “There’s my brother.” His loud voice turns heads as he approaches, and Varis has it on good authority that his brother loves it — loves the attention he gets just for being him.
Heaving a sigh, Varis stands to hug Reeve and clap him on the back. “Couldn’t have chosen somewhere a little more private?”
“This is private.” His brother winks and snatches the bottle but he doesn’t drink right away. “Would you prefer a stroll? Echo is waiting for us in the shadows anyway.”
The mention of his brother’s shadow cat is enough to change Varis’ mind. “Right here is good. I'm sure she'll entertain herself by terrorizing the local wildlife.”
“You know she will.” Reeve takes a seat and a swig, then passes the bottle back to Varis with a grin. “It’s nice having an animal that gets her own bloody meals... and she shares.”
“Right up until she eats you,” Varis points out. “Or worse, me. She never liked me.” He takes a sip of his own and holds the bottle, eyeing Reeve with all the suspicion this impromptu meeting calls for. “You never ask to meet in the middle of the week. Are you in trouble?”
“Nah.” Reeve picks at the splinters in the bar top as he chooses his next words. “Actually... have you ever had a relationship? A real one that lasted longer than one night.”
The very thought is laughable. “Sure. With my axe, maybe. Or the King, but I hardly think you're asking about that sort of relationship. Someone finally caught your eye, Reeve?”
“Yeah, well, they’re still around, and it’s been weeks. I don’t want them to go anywhere either, which is just strange. Echo loves them... and she doesn’t love anyone but me.” The crease in his brow tells Varis his brother has very mixed feelings about the growing attachment, and so does Varis himself.
“The life we lead isn't suitable for attachments. You know this. You always have. I won't stop you, but if you choose this path, you won't be able to come with me anymore.” Varis watches the indecision on his older brother's face grow, but he doesn't back down. “I'm happy for you, Reeve. But you know where I stand.”
“Piss on that. I’m coming!” His brother stands abruptly. “Nothing changes, Varis. I bloody hate change. Just because I like someone doesn’t mean I won’t have your back.”
Varis doesn't flinch. “You say that now, but when push comes to shove, your instinct will be to make it back to the one you love. Not to stand and fight and die.” He lets the words sink in as he downs another burning swig
of whiskey, then gets to his feet. Reeve might be taller and stronger, but he doesn't quite match Varis for speed or instincts. “I've done this job myself for years. You need to choose your own path, but you can't have both. Not in the long run.”
“You believe anyone in the world could keep me from dying for you? Anyone?” Reeve’s gaze doesn’t waver. “I lost you once when I was only a boy, a boy too weak to fight for you. I’ll never be that boy again, Varis.”
He’s suddenly very aware of how quiet the tavern has gotten around them. Despite his dislike for the shadow cat, it's obvious they need to take this conversation elsewhere — so with a nod to Teag, he drags the bottle off the bar top and heads toward the door. “I think we should take that stroll after all.”
The eyes of those around them drop as Varis passes, like they always do. For all their words and whispers, not one of them is brave enough to say those things to his face, and certainly not with Reeve behind him. As he pushes open the door, the stale night air smacks him in the face and makes him grimace, but he pushes forward all the same and follows the sound of screeching creatures until Echo comes into view.
Keeping some distance between them, Varis turns back to face his brother. “I don't blame you. Father did what he thought he needed to do. Your mother made him sell me to keep you alive, and I stopped hating them both for it a long time ago. I was the bastard, you were the trueborn. But that's not the point here, Reeve. How am I supposed to risk your life now, when I know you have something left to live for? It's hard enough knowing that every Fae in the bloody realm will use you against me, but now it's becoming a domino. The Fae use them against you, you against me, and then I can't do my job.”
“That won’t happen,” Reeve says with a conviction Varis doesn’t share. “I won’t let that happen, and if they tried, we’d cut their throats. No one has ever gotten the upper hand on you, brother. No one.”
“Until they do.” Varis rubs his jaw and begins to pace as he weighs the pros and cons. Having Reeve around has been better than he ever dreamed — they share a bond he knows he'll never find anywhere else, he's an excellent fighter, and he's the only thing in Varis’ life that wasn't thrust upon him by King Balian. “I want you to be happy. I want you to be safe. I let you join me before because neither of those things were on the table, but if they are now, what kind of a brother would I be if I continued to drag you into danger?”
“A little brother without a bloody choice.” Reeve grins and ruffles Varis’ short, brown hair. He may not carry a comb with him like his older brother does, but that doesn’t mean he wants it sloppy, so Varis shoves Reeve playfully, making Echo hiss behind them.
He instantly puts his hands up and backs away. “Sorry, Echo. You know I'd never hurt him, we were just playing.” How the shadow cat became the only creature in any realm that Varis truly fears, he's not sure — but the smug look on Reeve’s face makes him forget. “Shut up. Don't you have someone to go home to?” he teases. “I'm sure the King will be summoning me soon, anyway. It's been too many days.”
“Their name is Laix, and no, I don’t trust you to call on me if the King does call.”
Varis steps forward until he's sure he's got Reeve’s attention. “I wouldn't know what their name is, you refuse to introduce me. And you're right; I probably wouldn’t call on you. Does this mean you and your bloody cat will be following me home?”
“Yup. Lead the way.” Instead of waiting, Reeve turns and starts singing loudly, the bottle not far from his lips. Echo doesn’t follow until Varis begins to walk, and he isn’t sure if he should find comfort or fear in the beast having their backs.
It's times like these that Varis misses his own companion, Trystrel. Despite the peryton having wings and antlers that could gut anyone who tries to get in his way, he's unable to leave the Golden Realm — which means that here, in the Stone Realm, Varis is on his own. “You think King Balian will give me a horse if I ask nicely enough?”
“I don’t kn—” Reeve pauses and hastily turns back around. “Why ask for a horse when you can ask for a dragon?”
“Do you really want that kind of attention?” he asks with raised eyebrows. “I don't. The rest of this world hates me enough without me parading around on the back of a dragon.”
The flush in his brother’s cheeks tells Varis he’s feeling the whiskey, and when he snatches back the nearly empty bottle, he can see why.
“They can hate you in silence. You’d have a dragon.”
“They already hate me in silence,” he counters. “Besides, what would I feed it? Though, I might be grateful if the beast turns out to have a taste for shadow cats.”
The noise Echo releases makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand, but when he turns to face the sound, she’s nowhere to be seen. “You know she understands every word,” Reeve chuckles. “Shadow cats are more intelligent than us, brother. Sometimes I think she can read minds.”
“That's not terrifying at all,” he mutters. His every step after that is taken with hesitation and caution, and he's grateful he doesn't live far from Teag’s.
Once the lanterns are lit and Varis disarms himself, he reaches for a bottle to replace their empty one. “More?”
“Do bears shit in the woods?” Reeve sits on a chair with his leg propped over the arm and holds out a hand for the drink. “When’s the last time you got some tail, Varis? You seem a little tense.”
The question makes him frown. “I do alright. It's been a couple of... months,” he admits. “But this is far from my longest dry spell.”
“Months?” Reeve places a hand on his chest like he’s wounded and shakes his head. “I’d be dead, burnt on a pyre dead.”
“Good thing you've got Laix then, hm?” Varis quips. “Not all of us require it the way we require food and drink. I'll get there eventually. It's just getting harder as my reputation spreads.”
“It is as important as food and drink, but when we can’t have it—” he trails off and shakes the bottle of whiskey in front of Varis’ face “—we have this.”
He snatches it but has to chuckle softly. “And now you know why my nights are spent in the company of whiskey bottles and not partners. Far easier this way. Whiskey can't be used against me unless it's poisoned, and His Majesty has seen to it that I’m immune to most of those. I can get myself off just fine.”
“Go lefty every once in a while. Gotta switch it up.” Reeve grins and walks over to Varis’ kitchen to rummage for food. “You just come back from a job or something?”
He sits down with a groan and kicks his feet up on the table. “Few days ago. Haven't been to the market, if that's what you mean. I don't eat much, and I wasn't expecting guests. Guess it's good your shadow cat can feed herself.”
“Say what you want about my cat but she’s out there patrolling for us right now. We’ll sleep soundly tonight... as long as we can find some sustenance.” Reeve pulls out some bread and sniffs an old block of cheese with a wary expression, but he ultimately gallic shrugs and tries to light the stove. “Remember when Ma would make us the cheese bread when it was cold outside? When Pa wouldn’t come home for weeks and there was no food in the house but old bread and moldy cheese. What did she used to call it?”
“Panca. And yes, I remember. After I was sold, I used to crave it, but nobody else knew what I was talking about. I'd sneak into the kitchens sometimes to make it myself because it reminded me of home, but I haven't had it in years.”
“Well, you’re having it tonight.”
Varis smiles as he watches Reeve cook, even if the end result isn't quite as good as he remembers. He blames that mostly on the fact that he can't taste anything but whiskey anymore and eats it all anyway, then thanks himself for stocking up on whiskey to wash it down with. “I suppose this means I need to go get some meat,” he says with a smirk as he rises from the table. “I'll let you decide which kind.”
“Every kind. All of the kinds,” Reeve says with all the confidence in the world. “No meat is bad �
�� except shadow cat meat. Tastes like a peasant’s boot... don’t ask how I know.”
“I already know how you know that, but I'll do you the honor of not recounting that particular tale.” He sighs and looks longing toward his bedroom. “You can take the room, I'll take the couch. Just keep Echo outside this time.”
“You going to tell her she has to sleep outside?” Reeve crosses his arms with an amused expression. “Go on, then... let her know.”
He pauses with an indignant look. “Never mind, I'm sure you two will be very happy in there.”
Reeve laughs loudly as he staggers toward the room, and Varis doesn't need to hear the window grating against its frame to know he's letting Echo in. Why his brother keeps such a creature so close to him is a mystery, but Reeve is right about one thing — it's better to have her on their side than against them.
Still, sleep doesn't come as easily as he thought it would. Usually after that much whiskey, he'd pass out in seconds and not wake until the morning sun is high overhead, but this time, he tosses and turns and wakes from nightmares more than once. He finally gives up on sleep completely when a rapid, powerful knock at the door disrupts him.
“What?” he snaps as he rolls onto the floor and pushes himself up. The couch makes him stiff, so he stretches his arms over his head as he stumbles toward the door, but he refuses to admit to himself that he's still drunk.
The bright light of day makes him shield his eyes as he opens the door, and when he sees King Balian’s messenger standing on his porch, he nearly shuts the door again. “Not today, Edis, it's a Sunday.”
“It's Tuesday,” Ed counters. “Please just take it, Master Kester. You know what he'll do if you don't.”
“Yes, yes.” He snatches the rolled up parchment from Edis’ hands and slams the oak door in his face, then zigzags back to the couch to sit down and read it.
When the door to his bedroom flies open, Varis doesn’t have it in him to flinch when the giant cat pounces to the door and sniffs along the edge. “Did I hear you say Edis?” Reeve asks. “What does the King request this time?”
