Realms of Stone and Gold

by C. E. Olson

  She groans. “Oh, now you want me again? Fickle Hammer, can’t seem to decide what he w—” she retches, but her body heals her before anything comes out “—wants,” she finishes.

  “Mm. I'd show you what I want right now, if we only had a sail. Quick, take your garments off. We’ll hoist them up and—”

  “Varis Kester!” she scolds, smacking him on the knee. “Is that any way to speak to your Queen?”

  He pulls the oars in with a smirk and reaches out for Aine, tugging her forward to sit in his lap. “You're not my Queen, Your Grace. You're my mate,” he says as he slides his hand between her legs.

  Aine’s fingertips curl against the back of his neck as she rolls her hips, but every inch of her face betrays her annoyance. “You said you wanted to wait until after.”

  “I said a great many things, Your Grace, and very few of them have been intelligent. If you don't want me, say the word and I'll stop. If you do...” Varis busies himself kissing her neck and urging her to move a little faster, but it doesn't take long for her to scramble off his lap. “I'm sorry,” he says quickly, raising his hands up. “I know that wasn't fair of me.”

  Scoffing, Aine pulls the string on her pants. “Can't take these off sitting down. It's a good thing you're so strong, I'm not sure how long you'd have lasted in this world if you weren't.”

  Chuckling, Varis pulls her forward again and spins her, sitting her down right in front of him. “No need to take them all the way off, Your Grace. I can get what I want from here.” A soft gasp escapes her as Varis slips his hand inside her pants and gently bites the back of her neck, pleased with what he finds there. “Just relax for me, Your Grace. Let me take your mind off the waves.”

  Aine melts, relaxing against Varis as he shows her exactly what his axe hand can really do, and he doesn't stop with just once — he never has, and he won't start now. He draws three shaky, beautiful climaxes from her before finally pulling his hand back in favor of rowing again, but even then, he wishes he could keep going.

  “That was... unexpected,” she says as she fixes her pants and switches back to her seat.

  “Unexpected, maybe... but it worked.” Varis smiles, pushing his straining, tired muscles to move faster so they can reach the shore by nightfall. With any luck, they’ll forgo sleep altogether and Varis can start apologizing for all of his many wrongs, though he suspects that'll take longer than a lifetime.

  He has to start somewhere.

  Chapter Fourteen

  When they bank on the shores of the Lunar Court, all thoughts of sleepless apologies leave Varis’ mind. Trystrel lands not far from them with his tail pinned down and eyes alert, which pulls all of Varis’ attention away from Aine. “Trys? What's wrong?”

  “You don't have time to waste. The birds talk. Sontar is preparing to come take what he perceives to be his.”

  Varis doesn't need Trys to explain what that means. Rage courses through him at the very thought of Sontar laying a claim to Aine... it's enough to have him whirling to face her. “If I don't go now, he’ll be gone before we get there and this whole trip will have been a waste,” he says quickly. “But I’m tired and slow. What happens to you if I accept the bond and then die anyway?”

  She shakes her head quickly. “I don't know. There haven't been many bonds between Fair Folk and humans, and the ones we've heard about have all ended with the Fae dying rather than accept such a bond.”

  One day, Varis hopes to have enough time to point out the hilarity of that statement when she had been so worried about being rejected. Instead, he cups her face with both hands and pulls her into a heated kiss, knowing he’ll be desperate to remember how it feels in the hours to come. “Then I suppose we’ll be the first to find out. You're mine, Aine, Queen of the Sun Court, and I’m going to go prove it. Oath be damned.”

  He shivers as something tingles down his spine and into his toes, but when it finishes, he feels like he's fully rested. “That's all I can do for you,” Aine says. “Unless you're willing to let me go with you.”

  “No. You're what he wants. Follow me to the trees just beyond the castle walls, but I want you to stay there with Trys. I'll take Echo inside with me. The portal from here to Boedal is close, so if you have to, go through there. Take Trystrel with you if you can, and he'll be able to scent Reeve. Find him. Do you understand?”

  Aine grips Varis’ shirt and meets his gaze with more ferocity than he's ever seen. “You listen to me, Varis Kester. I do not run. I will not run. You find a way out of that castle, or we’re both lost. Do you understand me?”

  “Yes,” he says, knowing it's futile to argue.

  “Gods be damned. Oaths be damned. Come back to me.” Instead of releasing him, her fist tightens even more, as if she can’t bring herself to let go.

  Varis doesn't move. “Convenient for you to say now when that oath is hanging over our heads like a guillotine,” he says softly. “I'll say it again, Your Grace. I'm not a monster. I'd have done this freely if you'd have told me the truth from the beginning.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.” Aine’s smile doesn’t reach her eyes and she tugs him in for another kiss, then stands on her tiptoes to whisper in his ear. “We make it through this, I’ll never wear pants again... you can have me whenever you want me, Var. I’m yours and you’re mine. You do not belong to some fat king of Ostusen. You belong to me.”

  Every word of that rings true, so Varis chuckles instead of arguing. “I do. Mates or not, you've earned my allegiance in ways Balian never could.” Slowly, he sinks to one knee and takes her hand to kiss it gently. “I’m just a bastard from another world, but my life is yours.”

  “Well, I’m the bloody Queen in this world, and I say you’re more than that.” Her other hand cradles his face and she urges him to stand. “Take care of him, Echo.”

  The shadow cat purrs as she rubs against Aine’s legs, and Varis can't help but wonder if he should leave her behind to protect his Queen. He's not sure either of them will listen or that it's worth the argument, so he kisses her once more and then climbs on Trystrel’s back, helping her up and nodding down to Echo. Together, they seek the safety of the trees and find a place for Aine to wait out the coming storm, and Varis takes a moment to pet Trys’ head. “Watch for me. Don't let me fall.”

  When the peryton bows slightly, Varis checks his boot for his knife, hooks his axe into his belt, and stocks his quiver with his last four remaining arrows. Echo hisses to signal that she's ready to go, and the glow from the stripes covering her body lights the path in front of them. Darkness will be his friend soon enough, but for now, he simply wants to make it there without impaling himself on a tree branch or running afoul of the Lunar Court’s turul. One of those was enough for a lifetime.

  As the castle’s silhouette comes fully into view, Varis pauses, nodding for Echo to go on ahead. He's grateful to the shadow cat for coming along without question, but he'd be a fool not to question her motives for doing so. Still, he follows her as silently as he can, loosening his first arrow once he's close enough to the Fae guarding the front gate. If this were any other time, any other place, he'd have simply walked in on Balian’s good graces — but his reputation is fierce, even here, and he can't run the risk of them disarming him before letting him in.

  When the guard drops, his companion kneels to check on him and meets a similar fate. Varis ducks behind one of the stone pillars splitting the entrance to bide his time, and when the lighter footsteps of Fae guards reach his ears, he spins around. His third arrow misses by a hair’s breadth. Cursing, he loosens the fourth and dashes forward as the man falls, leaving his now useless bow behind. The last remaining guard yells for help, but only half the call gets out before Varis slits his throat with the dagger from his boot.

  He looks around wildly to see if anyone heard, but when no one else shows up, he cleans his blade on his pant leg and sneaks right through the outer gate. Torches line the walls and illuminate the courtyard in front of him, and the emptiness he f
inds there is foreboding until he spots Echo slinking around the base of the keep. It's then that he notices the dark lumps she's jumping over on her trip around, making him shiver when he wonders what they suffered.

  The darkness covers him as he skirts around the glow from the torches and joins the shadow cat. Her body doesn't seem to be there, not entirely — it looks more like solid smoke than something truly corporeal. Varis allows himself a single moment to stand in awe of the cat, then drags the bodies out of the way and picks the lock to the keep. From there, they climb, Echo so gracefully and lightly that her paws barely touch the stone and Varis as carefully as he can.

  There's little doubt that Sontar is expecting him by now. He's probably as prepared as Aine was, or thinks he is, anyway — but Reeve isn't here this time and Aine is safely hidden from view. Sontar doesn't have anyone to use against him, which takes away any concern Varis might've had about forewarning.

  His suspicions are confirmed when he reaches the first floor and finds it empty, too. When the same repeats on the second and third floors of the keep, he starts to worry that he's too late after all — but a thump overhead tells him that he's not. There's someone on the next floor, and his guess is Sontar.

  “Come out, come out, you sick f—”

  The door slams above him and Varis barely has time to swap his dagger for his axe before Sontar’s personal guard attack him right on the stairs. He parries the first blow and kicks the guard's knee out, ignoring the sickening crack and leaping to avoid his rolling body as he tumbles down the steps. Varis grins almost wickedly at the three remaining, but he's only allowed a split second before he's hit in the chest with their magic. Leather does little to soften the effects, but what none of them know — Ostusen’s best-kept secret — is that Balian trained Varis from day one to handle attacks like that as though they're little more than a punch from a drunken fool. He's quickly on his feet again and this time, he doesn't hold back.

  His axe sinks into the chest plate of the one closest to him as the others yell out, surprised their little balls of light didn't stop him. Varis slams the heel of his boot into the guard’s belly and shoves his body forward as he yanks his axe free, knocking him back into another and giving him clearance to finish off the third. Breathing heavily, Varis peers down at the final guard and flicks his gaze over his pinned form. “It's your unlucky day. You don’t get to die heroically trying to stop the Fae Hammer like your friends did. Instead, you get to be my human shield.” He pauses. “Fae shield? Or is it still human, since I’m human? Never mind. Semantics.” Varis grips the guard and rolls the body of his fallen comrade off of him to help him up, then nudges him forward. “Move.”

  “You'll never get away,” the guard grunts. “King Sontar will end you.”

  “Ahh, perhaps. It's a strong possibility, but the monarch I serve is worth dying for. Is yours?” Varis takes the silence that follows as a no and pauses outside the entrance to the fourth floor only long enough to catch his breath. “Play along and be a good little shield, and maybe we both walk out of here. Open the door.”

  The moment it swings open, Varis pushes the guard through and lines as much of his own body up behind him as he can, but the scene in front of them nearly makes him drop his weapon. Somehow, Echo had gotten into the room without opening the door, and her tail is curved up over her back and pointed straight at Sontar himself. Her feral snarls seem strange even from her, almost otherworldly, but not as strange as the forcefield pinning Sontar to the wall.

  Barking a laugh, Varis sidesteps just enough to see him fully. “You were bested by a cat, Sontar. That has to sting.”

  “You're dead, Hammer. If you think that was all of my guards...”

  “Oh, I'm sure it wasn't. Luckily for me, I didn't expect to get out of here alive — but you won't, either. Which one of us will be missed more, do you think?” he asks in a tone too light for the situation, but the noise Echo lets out tells him he needs to stop wasting time. Varis lets the guard go but not before delivering a command. “I'm here on no one’s orders but my own. Go. Tell whoever will listen to you that I no longer answer to Balian, King of Ostusen.”

  The guard nods, but Sontar yells, “Humans lie! This is war. Spin the dial,” he commands, and one look at the guard tells Varis which one of them he's going to listen to.

  “I told you to be a good boy,” he says sadly, swinging his axe to stop the threat to his kingdom in its tracks. “I’m afraid you were wrong this time, Sontar. I'm not here for Balian or his stupid wars. I'm here for Aine, and the wrong that you've done to her and an ancient royal line.”

  Sontar spits, but he's still unable to move thanks to Echo. “What do you care for bitch queens or royalty your kind doesn’t answer to?” His face suddenly lights up in understanding and he laughs, a bitter, awful sound. “I get it. You've tasted the bitch Queen, and now you want her for yourself.” When Varis doesn't answer, that look only gets worse. “She's your mate. How poetic. I hear your thoughts about it, Killer. Do you know that you paved the way for me? Those missions Balian the Bumbling sent you on... they were distractions, nothing more. I whisper a little here, offer a Fae whore there, and Balian does whatever I tell him to do. You kept her guards so busy, there wasn't anyone left to stop me from taking what I'm owed. She's mine now, didn't she tell you? She'll never be able to bond with you, I took her wings. No matter how long you live or how fiercely you love her, she'll never be happy. There will always be something... missing. Something no one but me will ever be able to give her.”

  Varis sees red. The world around him fades away, and the pounding of his own heart drowns out the sound of boots ascending the stairs. He stalks forward, nearly telling Echo to back off so he can fight the true bastard among them properly — but it's not worth the risk. With a scream, Varis swings his axe so brutally that it cuts right through the King’s neck and shatters the stone behind it. Varis jerks as he's released from his oath and nearly falls to his knees with the force of it, but that split second of imbalance brings him back to reality just in time to roll away from the blast of light that's hurled at him.

  He's overrun so quickly that he's sure it's the end for him. Echo screeches and disappears into the shadows, reappearing to rip out the throat of the one who attacked Varis, but it's not enough. Scrambling, Varis gets to his feet and ducks under the heavy sword that nearly hits home, then snatches his axe from the wall.

  The blood gushing from Sontar’s neck coats the floor and makes him slip as he turns to defend himself, and he ends up flat on his back in the mess. The angle is weird, and his upswing doesn't have nearly as much power as he drives the blade of his axe into one guard’s chest and yanks his body forward to absorb the next blow, but he's trapped underneath him now with no way to get up. Completely surrounded, the guards sheath their weapons and look down at him with rage-filled eyes.

  “Go ahead,” he mumbles as he shoves the guard’s body off of him. “You'd better kill me, or I swear to every god you worship that you'll wish you did. I won't be taken prisoner.”

  “Oh, we don't have any intention to take you prisoner, Human. We’re simply trying to decide if we should kill you here or parade you through the streets first. Ally or not, your legacy has scared our people for long enough. And they'll want revenge on the one who killed our King.”

  Seeing an opportunity, Varis bows his head. “I know enough to realize when I've been bested. Let me up, and I’ll prove it,” he offers carefully.

  The guards exchange looks, but he's hauled to his feet a moment later. “Try anything and die here,” one of them growls.

  Varis nods slowly, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “Understood. Though, there's something you should understand as well.”

  “What's that?”

  “I have no intention of dying anywhere inside this court. My life is not yours to take.” He winks, dropping down to grab his axe and rolling forward away from the blood. Two guards topple with the contact, and again, he feels the painful light of
their powers assaulting his skin. Echo’s shriek fills the air and one man’s scream cuts off sharply. Varis stops thinking about anything but survival. No pep talks, no hesitation. Just parry. Swing. Duck.

  Varis moves like a dancer through the remaining guards until his clothes are soaked with their blood and his arm is nearly too heavy to keep swinging his axe. Varis sends a prayer to his own gods as he pushes himself to keep going, but for every guard he and Echo cut down, two more arrive.

  He sees the sword poke out of his belly before he actually feels it. At first, it's nothing but pressure, a paper cut at most. Going in really isn't so bad, but coming out? Varis feels every centimeter of that. Blood spurts through the fingers he clamps over the wound as he falls to his knees, and his axe clatters uselessly to the ground as a second blade buries itself in his shoulder. Echo yelps as she's kicked hard and thrown against the far wall, but Varis can't move to help her. He knows he's beaten, so he gazes back at the guard who managed to kill the Fae Hammer of Ostusen and commits that face to memory, hoping he remembers him wherever he goes next — but those angry eyes are replaced quickly by those of the woman he loves.

  Aine’s face is so clear in his mind that he swears he can reach out and touch her. She's speaking, but the ringing in his own ears makes it impossible to hear a word. All he sees are gorgeous, full lips and the bites he left on her slender neck, and the intimacy of the detail is enough to snap him out of it.

  This isn't a hallucination. Somehow, she's calling to him, and he makes out a singular command through the noise around him: “Jump.”

  His limbs are slow and sluggish as he struggles to his feet, but Echo helps. Her body turns to shadow once more and blocks Varis from view as he staggers toward the only window in the room — and with one last look at the shadow cat, Varis hoists his reluctant body to the ledge and rolls, freefalling to the ground below.