by Brindi Quinn
This was the change he had alluded to earlier. He didn’t know anything about her lost echoes. The only one Beau had confided in that night was me.
I’ll admit, that part felt nice.
There was definitely a correlation between the lost heat and the lost echoes. I considered that if I had gained one of Beau’s powers, maybe I had gained the other too. I didn’t know how communing with nature and healing a magician’s heart were related, and I had never heard of an illness curable by an oracle’s touch, but I intended to test it out.
“Does your chest ache even now, Rafe?” I questioned.
“It does, but it’s manageable.”
“Allow me to try something,” I said, extending my hand toward him.
I had always jested to myself that he might be afraid of women, but now it seemed that was true. It was as if he had seen a phantom.
“W-what are you doing?”
“I want to see if it was Beau’s royal blood that healed you,” I lied. “If so, I may be able to as well.” Again, I reached for him, and again, he dodged out of the way. “Oh, come on, Rafe. It ails you greatly, right? At least let me try to help you. Beau wouldn’t want you to suffer in her absence.” More importantly, I needed him at full strength, should we encounter danger like we had at Sestilia’s lair.
At last, he obliged, but he wasn’t happy about it. Though his modesty was endearing, it made me feel like something of a pervert. Good on Beau for managing to gain his trust. She could be quite wooing when she wanted to be.
I placed a hand against his shirt. Even through the fabric, his chest was like ice.
“You’re so cold!” I said. “I’m not aware of a disease that freezes the chest itself. Does it have a name?”
“Not that I’ve found.”
Troubling. Our queendom had deep knowledge of ailments and their cures. It was rare to come across a disease without a name.
It would take quite some days for us to learn that the culprit was looming above us that very night, obfuscated by the trees.
With my hand flush against the fabric of his cold shirt, and with him refusing to meet my eyes, I waited for something to happen.
“It has to be against the skin,” he admitted. Yet he didn’t move to uncover his chest.
“I’m not going to undress you,” I responded, flat.
“Of course not, Your Majesty.” Looking as though he might die, he untucked his shirt from his belt and held it up like a tent. “Go ahead.”
Just so we’re clear, I had no ulterior motives going into this. By now, I should hope you know me well enough to believe me.
Careful not to graze his abdomen, I drew my hand upward parallel to his skin until my fingers were inches away from his frigid chest. Then, I carefully pressed against him, palm to fingertips. I could see why Beau liked this. Firm. Lean. I turned off the primitive parts of myself that noticed and spread out my fingers. “Anything?”
But before I could even finish the question, Rafe took my hand from behind and pressed it firmer against his body. “It’s there.” He made direct eye contact for the first time all night, surprised that it had worked. He had been humoring me before; now, he sought an explanation. “It’s weak, but it’s there. Is it truly a gift of the royals?”
“It seems to be,” I lied, knowing full well that it was a gift of the oracle, a gift I had unwittingly taken on. “But I’m not sure how to make it stronger. Did Beau ever mention how?”
“No, but she could control the potency. I know because…” His eyes returned to the mushroom patch. “She would tease me with it.”
Naugh-ty, naugh-ty.
If I acknowledged it, Rafe might die.
“Okay, let’s see what I can do,” I said instead. With my hand against Rafe’s chilled skin, I closed my eyes and drew in the cool night air. It tasted just like the Scarlet Wood, of ancient timber and autumn earth. If I kept my eyes closed, I might even forget where I was. In my head, the echoes clamored just beyond the reaches of sound. I could feel them out there, laboring for me to acknowledge them, as they had been doing all night. Giving in to them was the last thing I wanted to do, especially if it meant returning to that dark place.
But I was already this far, and letting the echoes closer was the only thing I had control over when it came to the oracle’s power.
Like carefully topping off a measuring spoon, I released the hold ever so slightly. The echoes encroached.
“There!” Rafe clenched my hand harder. “Whatever you did worked.”
Lovely.
But he was right, my palm felt warm—not really in the sense of fire, but in the sense of electricity, such as in the air before a lightning strike. I released the restraint a bit further, letting the echoes loom closer, until the warmth intensified into heat; or rather, a stronger current. It pulsed from my palm and seeped into Rafe’s skin.
This is where it gets weird.
Oh, you thought it was already weird?
While I had been letting the echoes closer and thus turning up the intensity of heat, Rafe had been pressing my hand into his chest, latticing his fingers over mine until at one point, he gripped down on them in a manner that was carnal, locking eyes with me darkly and biting his lip. Then, with a slight groan, he let his head fall backward, exposing his throat.
In that moment, I saw him in a light I never had before. He was quiet, indifferent, a skilled cook and fighter.
And he was also lustful. The act of warming him was an amorous one.
My intentions were pure, but the moment was not. Immediately, I felt like I had done something wrong—something I wouldn’t want Beau to see. And, strangely, something I wouldn’t want Windley to see either.
“That feels so much better.” Rafe tipped his head forward so that his forehead rested against my shoulder, his breathing pattern suggesting relief. “Thank you, My Queen.” Before releasing my hand, he gently forced it against his now warm chest and neck as if to take the last bits of heat.
Oddly, that may have been the first time he had ever addressed me as ‘My Queen,’ though it was perfectly suitable for him to do so.
After, it was if he realized the horror of what he had just done. He shifted forward into a knight’s kneel. “Forgive me, Your Majesty. I shouldn’t have let you see me like that.”
He was right. I shouldn’t have seen him like that. Because it felt dangerous, and I knew how horrific that was to admit. Rafe was handsome. There was nothing wrong with me saying so because it was fact. But for the first time in three years, I saw a glimmer of what so many of my handmaids saw in him. I would never let it reach the light of day.
“That was different than I expected,” I said in absence of something better to say.
“I shouldn’t have let you do it.” He pushed both hands over his face and through his hair, stressed. “I didn’t think it would work.”
So, he felt it too.
“It was my idea, Rafe. I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t mean for it to work. But…” I couldn’t bring myself to look him in the eye. “Is it always like that?”
“Evidently,” he said quietly after a moment. “I mean, yes, but I didn’t realize it would be that way with anyone else.”
Prob-le-ma-tic.
“How often do the episodes hit you?” I said.
“Every few days. But some are less severe and easy to hide.” He clenched his jaw. “We shouldn’t do it again. I can live with the pain.”
That was noble of him. A good answer, for Beau’s sake.
But I had other things to consider.
“To be honest, your pain is a secondary concern of mine. With such a small guard, I can’t afford to spare you in the face of danger. Any way I look at it, I’ll likely have to heal you again before we find Beau. Next time, we’ll have a third-party present,” I said. “Namely, Windley.”
Rafe made a face that was almost comical. “I mean no disrespect, but how is that better?
For me, having Windley as a witness was the le
sser of two evils. No, I didn’t want him to see, but it seemed better than doing it behind his back.
Because although I hadn’t admitted it to myself, I was already making decisions with my innermost desires in mind.
“Well, we can’t do it alone, and we can’t do it in front of Albie. Having Windley there will be…” Safer. But I wasn’t about to say that out loud. “The best option,” I said instead.
Rafe thought about it with a frown. “I guess. But I’m not thrilled at the thought of him seeing me exposed.”
I didn’t blame him. Windley wouldn’t be coy about it.
I hugged my cloak to myself. “Let’s go back. Windley’s probably dying from being excluded. You know how he gets when he goes without attention long enough.”
“One moment, Your Majesty.” Rafe stopped me. “Did the Queen mention anything to you? Do you think this has something to do with why she was taken?”
“You don’t need to call her that for my sake,” I said. “I’m sure it’s unnatural for you.”
That was me stalling. I had been expecting him to ask, and I had made a decision not to tell him about the other abilities Beau had lost that night. There was nothing he could do about it now, and telling him would only cause him strife.
“I’m sure Beau’s power wasn’t lost for good. She was likely overwhelmed because of the lunar festival. She has a tendency to get in her own head,” I said.
“I know.” Once more, he looked to the night sky, forlornity bared.
I warned you, captive ones. Oversharing, but I feel like it’s necessary. Maybe you wish it had happened with someone else. Maybe that would have been better.
My advice is to press on.
We’re getting to one of my favorite parts of the story.
Chapter 15
A Deep and Dangerous Stare
“Good lord, I was beginning to think the pair of you had run off together.” Windley was lounging with his elbow to his knee and had been boredly poking at the fire with a long stick, making showers of cinders flee the scorched wood.
Rafe said nothing but gave him a look of extreme defeat and dread as he brushed past into the tent, anticipating that Windley would soon see him in a vulnerable state.
“Goodnight to you too, chap,” muttered Windley, turning to me, “What was that about?”
“I saw Rafe’s O-face.”
With a forced smile, Windley blinked at me mechanically. “Come again?”
Careful to keep my voice low, I recounted what Rafe had told me and the events that had ensued.
“How positively erotic of you,” Windley said through his forced smile. “…But you’re not lavishing in it?”
Lo, he was picking up on that uneasy feeling in my stomach.
“No, I’m not lavishing in it. Can you blame me? I feel like I just molested Beau’s boyfriend. She’ll understand, right?”
“How should I know?” he said. “Women are complicated.”
“Not helping. Anyway, have you heard of a disease that causes your chest to freeze from the inside?”
“No. But I don’t know much about his kind. For all we know, it could be common amongst the northern sorcerers.”
“I suppose.” I sat down beside him. “Truth be told, I’m in an uncomfortable position now. Healing him felt wrong, but with such a small guard, I can’t spare any one of you to illness…”
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
“WELL, I was hoping next time you might be present?”
“What, to kill the mood?” he scoffed. “Actually, I wouldn’t mind seeing it. The chap must have been terrified.”
I swatted him. “I’m not that scary.”
“Not to me,” he said, kicking back with his hands behind his head.
Oh, he was baiting me. And when I held my ground, he proceeded anyway.
“You’re his queen,” he said, calculated, “and he respects you, but Rafe’s terrified of you. Always has been. He says you have a ‘deep and dangerous’ stare.”
I inspected him for signs of jest and found none. “You’re serious? What does that even mean?”
If anyone had a ‘deep and dangerous stare’ it was the Spirite himself.
Windley continued, “There are others who have acknowledged it. Saxon, for one. And I’m inclined to agree. When you set your gaze on someone, it commands attention in a way beyond regality. It’s primal.”
It was unlike him to say something so raw. In the cool of the night, my skin pricked. I removed my dangerous stare from his and placed it on the fire. The fire crackled in response.
“Well thanks for telling me. Now I’ll only be self-conscious every time I look at anyone, wondering if I’m frightening them with my penetrating gaze.”
“I suppose it would be difficult to endure for someone like Rafe, whose heart belongs to another. But if you want my opinion, anyone who cowers from it is undeserving of looking into it.” He nudged me with his elbow. “It’s a gift, Merr. Use it to your advantage.”
A shiver ran down my knees. Merr. Was that a nickname? Even Beau wasn’t so bold as to assign me a nickname.
Windley recanted it quickly. “Queen Merrin. Shit. I’m sorry, Your Majesty.” He put a hand to his forehead. “With you, I forget.”
After, we were silent but for the rolling fire. I wasn’t sure whether to scold him facetiously, reprimand him for real, or tell him it was fine. I didn’t want to undermine myself, but hearing him use a casual form of my name was more appealing than I ever would have imagined.
“I-I almost forgot! Come, step away from the fire, Windley. I have to show you something.” I offered my hand and drew him into the night.
I ignored the tension at my back. I hadn’t given him a proper response, but I hoped he would be distracted by the enchantment of the forest awakening with each step. As we wandered from camp, past where the stags were sleeping, the air began to twinkle with fragments of radiance. The rocks emitted a faint glow. The veins of the surrounding greenery pulsed with luminescence.
“Check it out, Windley, my feet are magical.” As before, each footprint into the moss illuminated with emerald light.
“Yes, like a blaring marker saying, ‘Come, see the nemophilist.’”
I hadn’t thought of it that way!
I spun to face him, only to find him looking amused.
He folded his arms. “Too easy.”
“Bastard.” I punched him lightly in the chest.
Good, we were back to normal.
“I assumed it was because of the echoes,” I said, weaving a pattern with my steps. “Rafe thought it was my royal blood. He said the soil of the forest has old magic in it. Is there something special about the Emerald Wood?”
“Why do you assume I know?” Windley said, haughty.
“Well excuse me. Maybe because you’re from ‘south-ish’ and you knew about the emerald moss?”
Windley waited a moment before answering. “Do you recall I said there are elixirs for memory loss made in the southern wilds?”
How could I forget? Our favorite spider queen had meant to use one on me. I nodded.
“Well,” he continued. “I took one once. A strong one.”
“Willingly? Why?”
He shrugged. “Hell if I know. But it made me lose much of my past. There are bits and pieces, but major events are missing. The Emerald Wood, for instance. I know I’ve been here before, though I couldn’t tell you how many times, for what purpose, or with whom.”
He didn’t seem like it bothered him, and yet… “My goddess. That would be frightening.” I put a hand to his shoulder, finally understanding Albie’s earlier concern. “Are you okay?” I asked.
“If I wasn’t, I wouldn’t remember it anyway, right?”
So like him to be blasé.
I searched him for signs of hidden emotion, but he only stared back down at me with an unreadable expression. The longer we stood that way, the harder it became to draw air. The old magic? Meanwhile, Windley seemed una
ffected, breaths even as ever, as he peered down at me.
When I dropped my hand from his shoulder, he caught it by the wrist. “Would you still like me to demonstrate my powers?” he said. “Or have you had enough eroticism for one night?”
Now he was the one to sport a deep and dangerous stare.
“Show me.” My tongue didn’t give me a chance to think. Earlier, I had fended him off, unsure of whether or not I should let him steal my energy for parlor tricks.
Now, it felt like doing so would cleanse my palate of what had happened with Rafe.
At my agreeance, a debauched smile curled on his lips, his black eyes shining like beetles through the dark. He pulled me nearer to camp so that I would be better able to see the transformation, putting his hands to my waist to position me just so.
With grin cocked and hands trembling, this was a manner he didn’t often sport. He was excited to show off the tricks hidden up his sleeve, as if he had been waiting eight long years to show me. As if something had been awakened the night he told me what he was.
With the fire to his back, Windley guided my hand to his shoulder. “Keep it here.”
I caught his eye and felt a familiar flutter hit me in the back of the neck. I suppose you could call it a swoon. I chocked it up to his powers already at work.
Though I admit those lines were becoming blurred.
The elements were at play, the fire’s influence warm and intoxicating, seducing me closer to Windley, the forest at my back chilled, pushing me away. We stood together in the night while our companions slept yonder.
And then, taking the whole of my arm in his hand, he trailed his thumb up me, from wrist to elbow. I drew in a sharp breath. “I should be able to manage the hair on touch alone,” he said, “but we may have to go one step further if I’m to show you something even better.”
I didn’t know what that meant, but I didn’t care. The feeling was already magnifying. Each stroke of his fingers left my veins writhing where he’d crossed.
“Are you taking my energy now?” I breathed.
I noticed his jaw flex. “Just enough.” He continued brushing my arm, back and forth, until my pulse was loud and my skin tingled. “I’m prepping you,” he said.
