by Amy Sumida
“I do have a way of knowing,” I said dryly, “it's called GPS.”
“Children!” Vivian growled with irritation. “Do you want me to help you or not?”
“I do,” I said softly, properly chastised. “I'm sorry.”
“Okay, then.” She inhaled with satisfaction. “As I was saying; when I opened myself up to Destiny, she showed me her plans and then offered me alternatives.”
“Are you saying that you can see the future?”
“I can catch glimpses of it. For example; I saw you standing outside my door tonight.” She waved her hand to indicate that it wasn't important. “What I'm trying to say is that you've thumbed your nose at Fate before, Elaria. But then you claimed the witch relic, and with it—your destiny. By doing so, you've opened the way for more of what Fate can offer you.”
“Like a man I'm meant to be with?” I asked in shock.
“Why are you so surprised?”
“Because I have two amazing men already, one of whom I reincarnated for,” I said.
“And you don't think you're destined for more?” She asked with a twinkle in her eye.
“Obviously, you do.”
“We are immortals; our long lives tend to come with several options.” She shrugged.
“Several?” I lifted my brows.
“Even true love is not always eternal,” she said softly. “Fate knows this.”
“Fate,” I whispered as a chill went down my spine.
“I have a spell that will bring you a true love; a soul mate,” Vivian said casually. “It will draw a lover to you who you will feel an instant bond with.”
“Sounds good.”
“If you're right, and you've claimed all the love you were meant to have, then it will do nothing,” she said gently.
My heart plummeted. I just couldn't conceive of there being someone else for me, not when I had so much love already.
“But if I'm right, and there is more for you,” Vivian went on, “then this man or woman will be pulled to you like metal to a magnate.”
“Strictly dickly,” I muttered distractedly, in reference to the woman comment.
Vivian burst out laughing and then covered her mouth with a dainty hand.
“Elaria, you are a drink of fresh water for my tired soul,” Vivian said. “Thank you.”
“For not being a lesbian?” I teased.
“For brightening my day,” she said seriously. “Now, I have an idea that will bring this love to you at a specific moment, so we can be certain of who it is.”
“A specific moment?”
“The Witch's Ball is coming up.” Vivian smiled brilliantly. “I know the witches would love to hear the Relic Bearer sing.”
“You want me to sing at the Witch's Ball?” I scowled. “With or without magic?”
“What would be the point of singing without?” She huffed. “I'll cast the love spell to draw your man to you, and you will reel him in with your song.”
“Oh, great, a fishing analogy.” I teased her.
“It's a lot like fishing.” Vivian stood and headed into a back room that I had never been invited into. She stopped when she realized that I wasn't following, and looked back at me. “Come along, Spellsinger, you'll need to add your song to my magic.”
Chapter Four
“What the hell?” I gaped at the space around me.
Vivian had taken me through a doorway and down a set of stairs. The walls had changed from wood to rock halfway to the bottom, and then we emerged into a cave. Heavy bookshelves lined the stone walls, and carpets were laid over the earth floor—except for one circle in the center of the room. The circle was obviously Vivian's sacred place. Outlined in pale, smooth pebbles, the bare ground was empty; just packed dirt. But it thrummed with enough power that I could feel it from fifty feet away.
“Do you like it?” Vivian asked as she wandered over to a bookshelf. “Each of the elders has a working space that connects to the earth—for grounding purposes—but I had first pick. I love the veins of minerals in the walls.”
She nodded to the sparkling gray and soft lavender swirls in the stone as she took a book off the shelf.
“It's amazing,” I whispered.
I went forward to inspect the jars of strange ingredients and collection of oddities fighting for space on the shelves with ancient, leather-bound spellbooks. My hand was drawn to a chocolate-brown feather, hanging by a leather cord. I didn't even notice the animal skull it was suspended from; I was so focused on the feather.
“What type of bird is this from?” I asked Vivian as I lovingly stroked the silky plume.
Vivian had taken her book to a massive table, opened it to the spell she wanted, and was already gathering the supplies she needed. She had several bottles set out on the table around the book, and was headed for another bottle when my question stopped her. She glanced over her shoulder and then froze, a strange look on her face.
“That's not a bird feather, Elaria,” she said softly. “That came from a griffin; King of all Creatures.”
“King of all Creatures,” I murmured. “Because the lion is King of Beasts and the eagle is King of Birds.”
“Yes, exactly; a griffin is a combination of both.” Vivian smiled. “The feather can cure blindness, and a griffin's talon can heal any wound.”
“Whoa.” I blinked in surprise. I knew of griffins, but I'd never researched what they could do. “I thought they just protect stuff and shapeshift.”
“They're very good at security, yes,” Vivian agreed. “Just like your friend, Cerberus. But they are even better at battle; griffins have a keen intellect and are renowned military tacticians. They also have the strongest army in the Beneath; they are elite warriors—soldiers with the brilliance of commanders. If you have a single griffin on your side, the battle is as good as won.”
“Unless the other side has a griffin too,” I teased her and reluctantly let go of the feather. “And what's this?” I tapped the horn the feather's cord was slung over.
“It was a wendigo,” she said as she came to stand beside me, “before the griffin killed it.”
“This griffin?” I stroked the feather again.
“Yes, that griffin,” she confirmed. “The wendigo attacked me while I was out searching for a rare herb. I was young then, and could barely hold it off with my magic, but the small amount of power I expelled had been enough to attract the attention of a passing griffin. He came to my rescue, and during the fight, he lost a feather.”
“So, you took the wendigo head and the griffin feather?” I smirked at her; Vivian was nothing if not practical.
“How could I not?” She smiled. “A wendigo skull protects against insanity, and ancient witches are prone to hysteria.”
“You said you were young then.”
“But I intended to live forever,” Vivian said smugly, “and I always plan ahead.”
“Sometimes literally.” I tapped the skull.
Vivian chuckled. “Quite so.”
“And no one wants a crazy witch running amok.” I intended it to be a joke, but it came out too grim for levity... because a crazy witch is not a laughing matter.
“No, especially not myself,” Vivian affirmed. “So, I took the head, but the feather, I asked for. It was only polite.”
“And he gallantly granted your request.” I waggled my eyebrows at her. “I've heard that griffins are smokin' hot in their human forms.”
“Oh yes.” She laughed. “Amaron was a beautiful man. He still is, I'm sure; they live forever barring outside influences. But he was already married, and griffins mate for life. If their lover dies, they never take another. Sometimes, they'll kill themselves because they can't stand the pain of living without their mate.”
“Wow, that's kind of depressing.”
“I've always thought it was romantic.” Vivian shrugged. “Now, grab that bottle of burdock root and come with me.”
I snatched the bottle off the shelf and followed her back to the
table. She added her ingredients in the bowl of a mortar and used a pestle to grind them together. Then she used a ritual knife to cut some hair from my head. She added it to the mixture and then emptied it all into a golden bowl.
Vivian took the bowl into the circle of stones, and I followed her. As I stepped over the line of pebbles, I felt the tingle of an inactive ward. After I was fully inside, Vivian cast a hand out in a wide arc, and the pebbles started to glow. Sounds originating from outside the circle were muted. It didn't surprise me; I'd been in witch circles before. Nor did Vivian's chanting alarm me; it was also expected. Even when she sprinkled some of her spell mixture over me, I remained calm. But when she came at me with her little knife, I tensed.
“Blood magic?” I asked with trepidation.
“Love is not cheap, Elaria,” Vivian chided me. “This man who we're calling to you may have come into your life eventually, but we are taking all the chance out of it and speeding up the process. That demands a price.”
“But my blood will bond me to the spell,” I whispered. “The whole reason I'm in this mess is that I'm bonded to a spell.”
“And you will need a stronger bond to help turn your trouble into triumph,” Vivian chided me. “I know what I'm doing, child.”
“Okay.” I sighed and held out my hand obediently.
Vivian made a tiny cut in the tip of my ring finger.
“A straight line to the heart,” she whispered as she held the golden bowl beneath my hand.
My blood dripped onto the remaining spell ingredients. Vivian began to chant again, and the mixture started to smoke. Her chant faded out, and the spell components caught fire.
Vivian lifted her head and shouted, “Sing, Elaria!”
Chapter Five
Vivian's spell left me feeling a little lightheaded, but also relieved. She felt the spell take hold, which meant that there was someone else for me. The Witch's Ball was only a week away, and Vivian assured me that my next lover would be in attendance. That would leave me seven weeks to convince him to join the Cock Collective. Yeah, I'd promised Declan to never call them that again, but the name worked and had the added benefit of being hilarious. So, I'd continue to use it... in my head... mostly.
After the spell was set, I went back to Tír na nÓg, but this time I headed to the Alexandrite Kingdom; to King Declan's chambers in particular. Declan's private rooms were just as extravagant as his personality. My father called Declan “the pervert” and the name wasn't completely untrue. Declan was a hedonist; he loved pleasure in all of its forms, but that was a shining one trait. Most fairies loved to surround themselves with beauty and immerse themselves in every enjoyable act life could offer.
This made for a loose concept of commitment. Sex was generally thought of as something to be experienced with anyone you shared an attraction with. Couples did form bonds, and often made vows to each other, but if one of them wanted to sleep with someone else, they'd simply ask their partner. Eight out of ten times, their partner would be okay with it, and out of the other two instances, one of those would result in the partner asking to be included. That left Torin in that last tenth. But then, Torin had some witch blood in him. He wasn't your average shining one king.
Just my damn luck.
Declan, however, was okay with sharing. Ironically, I thought that his loose sexual nature would be a problem for me. Mainly because I'm a damn hypocrite; I need my men to share me, but I have no intentions of sharing them. Imagine my shock when Declan agreed to my terms. He says that it doesn't matter; he doesn't want anyone else. Yeah, Mr. Fuck-Anything-Female was content with little ol' me. I hardly believed it, but it had been months, and Declan still hadn't shown any desire for another woman.
As I searched Declan's sumptuous rooms, batting aside silk curtains and strands of alexandrite beads (what did Declan have against solid doors?), I wondered about the new man that was even now being drawn my way. Would he agree to such an unfair arrangement? Or would I have to do some compromising? Gasp. Yeah, that sounds bitchy, but I can't help it. I'm worse than Torin when it comes to sharing; it simply isn't going to happen.
“Unless it's life or death,” I whispered. “Fuck, what if my soul mate wants more than me?”
I was speaking to an empty room. I'd come full circle, through all of Declan's conjoined chambers, and hadn't found him. It wasn't all that surprising; it was the middle of the day, after all; Declan was probably doing something kingly. I headed toward the door (a solid one; thank Persephone) that led out to the hallway, a shiver of anxiety traveling up my spine. Vivian hadn't messed with my soul mate's free will; I wouldn't have wanted her to, even had she offered. But this meant that even if I got him to love me, it wasn't a sure bet that he would accept my situation. He could easily fall in love with me and walk away. Look at Torin.
“Damn it all, I need to stop thinking about this,” I muttered as I left the suite.
I tried to focus on the beauty of the Alexandrite Castle instead of the uncertainty of my current predicament. Shining One palaces were all a little different, depending on their monarch. Declan's touch was evident everywhere I looked, and I wondered how many years it had taken him to add these details. He was far too busy to have decorated this all at once, even with help. He must have added one piece at a time; a handwoven rug one month, a tapestry the next, a painting taller than me, and then that thing.
I stopped and stared out of one of the open archways lining the corridor I was walking through. The arch framed a garden like a living work of art. On first glance, the fairy plants looked as if they were growing wild there, but then you notice that their placements were too perfect to be natural. They all seemed to point to the garden's central feature; an enormous alexandrite waterfall. Except waterfall was probably the wrong word for it since there was no water involved.
A giant cluster of quartz crystal points was arranged from largest at the back to smallest at the front, curving downward to a polished basin of the crystal. Around the base of the quartz points, tiny, faceted pieces of alexandrite flowed like water. Just as with the garden itself, the fountain fooled the eye at first. The jewels appeared to be liquid; a sparkling stream of water that shifted in color from sapphire to amethyst. But on closer inspection, they revealed themselves to be gemstones, moved by magic down into the basin and then up, behind the quartz points, to start their journey all over again. It was mesmerizing, and only one of the countless treasures to be found when you wandered through Alexandrite Castle; not the least of which was its king.
I moved resolutely away from the lure of the garden, and made my way to the heart of the castle, where the main social rooms were; the dining hall, the public libraries, the kitchens, and the throne room. Declan wasn't dining or reading, I was about to look in the kitchen (you never know with that guy) when I heard the distant echo of applause. Right; he was in the throne room.
The double, golden doors were closed and guarded by a pair of alexandrite knights. They stood at attention in their shimmering livery, but when they saw me walking up, they gave me respectful bows and opened the doors for me. As soon as I was within the room, though, they shut the doors firmly behind me. I moved to the side, along the wall, and made my way up the hall, keeping to the edges of the massive gathering. What the hell was going on?
I looked over the crowd of shining ones, searching for familiar faces. I didn't know half the men and women in the room. As I worked my way quietly to the front, shining ones who I did recognize glanced my way to give me nods and smiles, but they quickly returned their attention to the front of the room. Finally, I made it to the far left of the dais.
Declan's throne room was as elaborate as the rest of his castle. The dais especially was stunning. The platform itself was crafted from rutilated quartz; its translucent depths shot through with thick veins of gold. It had a deep purple rug set over the center of it, beneath Declan's golden throne, with an extension that ran down the multiple steps to the floor of the throne room. There was only the one t
hrone on the dais since Declan wasn't married, but the platform didn't seem bare. There was a small table set beside Declan, with refreshments laid out for him, and then behind his throne stood a pair of stern-faced knights; each with a hand on the hilt of his sword. Their eyes constantly searched the crowd for any threat to their king. Framing all of them were carved arches of alexandrite rising from the rutilated quartz dais to curve over the throne. Light streamed through the alexandrite arches from windows set high on the walls behind the throne, making their color shift and sparkle.
But none of it was as breathtaking as the Alexandrite King.
Declan and I had been an item for months now, and before that, my interactions with him had always been on a more casual level. We'd worked together during the war with Sapphire, and then when I split with Torin, Declan had romanced me a little. I knew he was a king, and I'd seen him stride around his castle in a royal fashion—shining ones bowing and scraping and all of that—but I'd never seen Declan hold court.
