Faery Tail

by Deborah McNemar

  His fingers came up to trace the curve of her cheek and Star closed her eyes, fighting against the need to curl into his embrace. She wanted to believe what he was saying. She wanted to believe that someone could look at her and see someone worthwhile.

  "I would be both pleased and honored to share this time with you, Princess. However, if you cannot trust me, there is little point. I will take you home and wish you well if that is what you truly want."

  Star chanced a look. He was watching her, his expression solemn as usual, but anger still lurked in the dark depths of his eyes. Gathering her nerve, she asked the question that was insistently spiking at the back of her brain.

  "Then why are you angry?"

  He looked surprised for a moment and then his face softened. “Because I find myself wanting your trust."

  "I do trust you or I wouldn't be here,” she pointed out.

  Centauri shook his head. “Not enough. You do not trust me enough to risk lowering your barriers and seeing this world as it truly is."

  "I can't.” Star hunched her shoulders. “It took me so long to make those barriers, Centauri. I can't just tear them down. I don't know if I could get them back up before I go back and if I don't, the imps find me. Then, who pays? Maria. Jose. Damien. The people I care about."

  He hesitated. With a sigh, he released her, but he didn't move away. Star remained where she was, waiting. The choice was his to make. She had gone as far as she could go on her own.

  "I understand now that no one taught you how to shield yourself. They would not have wanted you to be able to fight back. That you have created your barriers on your own speaks for itself.” He met her gaze. “I can show you how to shield yourself without cutting yourself off from your magic, Princess. I can do what should have been done when you were yet a child."

  "You would do that for me?” Star couldn't believe her ears. No one had ever offered to help her. Not in all the years she had been alive. Not even her family. Especially not her family.

  He shrugged. “It is not a perfect shielding, mind you, but only those of great power will be able to sense you. Imps don't have the discipline it takes."

  Star wet her lips, thinking quickly. “Who?"

  "Finnbara.” His gaze was direct and unfaltering. “Luna."

  "Ankou?"

  "No. The Unseelie King will not find you through the shielding I would teach you."

  Star took a deep breath and closed her eyes. It was, she reflected, rather like stripping on the beach. Her barriers fell and she shuddered as the magic rushed through her. She opened her eyes to find him watching her, all traces of anger gone leaving behind something far warmer that left her feeling naked. Nervously, she wet her lips and waited for him to say something.

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  Chapter Ten

  The tight tangle of the Meanduraug gave way to open meadows and softly rolling hills. Power pulsed around them in errant gusts as they made their way steadily onward. Light filtered through the leafy canopy, soft and warm.

  Star was taking a break from riding. Out of courtesy, Centauri resumed his human form to walk beside her instead of towering over her. At his side, the little princess was practicing her shield, letting it drop and then snapping it back into place. She was getting better and better. Centauri estimated that by the time the sun set she would be capable of protecting herself without cutting herself off from the magic that was life's blood to the Fae.

  She took a skipping step and Centauri couldn't keep his eyes from following the sway of her braid against her hips. The woman was going to drive him mad. The jeans hugged her hips and thighs. Her top ended far too soon, leaving a mouthwatering expanse of creamy flesh exposed. Around her navel, the Celtic star tangled looking for all the world like a tattoo. Centauri knew better. It was a birthmark though unlike anything he had seen before. He had the overwhelming urge to hold her down and taste that spot, to take that essence of her into himself so that, maybe, he stood a chance of understanding her.

  She was singing under her breath again, some soft little ditty. He would wager that she was unaware that she was doing it, too. Like her kindness to the boy, it was something she did instinctively. She hugged those she loved. She sang when she was happy. She hid her hands in her pockets when she was defensive. He wondered how she would look angry. He had seen her upset, frustrated and defensive but she hadn't shown him true anger. Pique, hurt feelings, yes. But something warned him that a truly fine temper lay hidden inside her delicate little body.

  "Why do you like this place so much?” she asked abruptly, breaking into his thoughts.

  He didn't mind the interruption since his wayward mind had been heading down a road best left untraveled.

  "Why? Don't you care for it?"

  She slanted him a mischievous look as she ducked under a low hanging branch. “I didn't say I don't like it. I asked why you do."

  Centauri ducked the branch after her, wondering how best to answer that. “Freedom,” he said finally. “The challenge."

  "Room to breathe,” she agreed with a nod. “No cars or noise or people shouting."

  She sighed with pleasure and he felt her shields drop again. The magic that burned within her was a soft light, a mere star glimmer that defied definition. Like the Princess herself, it appeared delicate and infinitely fragile. The one thing it wasn't, however, was weak. Like flowing quicksilver, her shields snapped back into place seamlessly.

  Luna, he decided, was a fool. An air headed, arrogant fool. This girl was not only intelligent and courageous but competent as well. She had already mastered the magic required to shield herself. He wondered if he could show her how to defend herself without eliciting too many questions.

  Before he could make up his mind, the trees ended at the edge of a large meadow. Flowers bobbed and waved in the light breeze. The mid morning sun shone brightly, catching on the drifts of dandelion fluff and zephyr-harried leaves. With a whoop, Star sat and tugged off her shoes, stuffing her socks in the toes. Grinning, she scrambled to her feet and darted into the meadow.

  Centauri scooped up her abandoned footwear, tying the laces together, and slung them over his shoulder.

  Star whirled and laughed with arms upraised as she gamboled across the meadow. A zephyr, intrigued by her play, tangled itself around her. Star ignored it, raising her face to the sun. The light emphasized the fragile cheekbones, the small, perfect nose, and picked up silver highlights in her pale braid.

  A second zephyr joined in the play. Star's braid loosened as they ran invisible fingers through her hair. She laughed, trying to untangle them from her hair but was unsuccessful. Her hair tie was gone, flurried away as a prize. Her shirt began to rise. Star battled it back down, laughing even harder.

  Centauri had never seen anything like it. He had seen dragon treasure and famed beauties. Tir Nan Og itself was a masterwork of luxurious elegance. But the simple innocence of this moment touched something inside of him.

  Without conscious thought, his feet began to move. He joined her, his only wish to share in this moment. It seemed the most natural thing in the world to curl an arm around her waist and pull her close. She came to him, unresisting, simply relaxing into his body. With a soft sigh, he buried his face against her throat, breathing her in. Her arms came up around his neck and the moment was complete.

  The zephyrs, however, were not pleased. In a fit of pique, they went wild in her hair. The braid unraveled and the long strands wound around them, tying them together. Centauri growled and they harried away to mutter in the nearby trees. It was too late. Her hair was now hopelessly snarled into elflocks. Wrapped around them, it was tangled as tight as ropes. It was wrapped around his wrists and even around her arms, tangling her to the laces of her boots. He couldn't move without pulling her hair and he couldn't untangle himself from her without moving. Star pressed her face into his chest, her shoulders shaking with silent mirth.

  "I can't move."

  She pulled back the little bit
she could, laughter still rippling through her. “I think I can manage to get us free,” she choked.

  Centauri felt her hands begin to move across his shoulders, smoothing away the snarls she could reach. It was a delicious sensation and he shivered. He could only wonder what her hands would feel like on other parts of his body. To keep his overactive brain from actually trying to figure out a way to find out, he busied himself unsnarling the hair from around his wrists.

  She finished with the hair around her arms and slid her hands down his chest to work on the tangles there.

  Centauri sucked in a shocked breath and silently prayed that she didn't notice just what that innocent caress had done to his body. He tried to work faster but only managed to snarl things worse. He cursed under his breath. She was going to kill him one small, soft touch at a time.

  He had almost worked himself free when Star slid her hands along his ribs, reaching around him for the lengths of hair that were still tied around his waist. He couldn't suppress the start of surprise. His hands came free and he grabbed her wrists before she could continue the assault.

  Star's eyes flew up to meet his, her surprise apparent, but that innocent expression quickly faded into one he could only describe as positively wicked.

  "You're ticklish,” she accused.

  He couldn't deny it. He could, however, prevent her from getting any ideas along those lines. He shook his head, working to keep his expression stern. “The last person who thought to tickle me wound up with their head hanging from my wall,” he warned.

  The warning had absolutely no impact on her at all. Her smile only widened. She shook her hair back but the tangled mess stuck from her head like a witch's halo.

  "Oh, come on,” she chided him. “Loosen up a little. I'll bet no one's tickled you since you were shorter than me."

  "That's because most people have a little respect for me,” he said as she tugged ineffectually at his grip.

  "Which translates into scared of you.” She leaned closer, no longer fighting his hold, and her voice turned husky. “Should I be afraid of you?"

  The feel of her soft body brushing against his was making it difficult to think. The heated scent of her rose to his nose, wild and clean. He leaned down, intent on tasting the sweet bow of her mouth. She turned her head away slightly but that was all right since it left the elegant length of her neck open for exploration. He tasted her skin and heard her soft sound of startled pleasure. Lost in the moment, he continued to kiss and nibble his way over her skin, tracing the curve of her neck and the stubborn tilt to her jaw.

  Her fingers dancing along his ribs jerked him out of his daze. She had wriggled her hands free while he had been distracted. Star whirled away with a laugh, her pale eyes brimming with laughter. Centauri followed her, unable to resist the light of challenge in her eyes.

  He stalked her across the meadow. She feinted left and then darted in to trail playful fingers across his ribs. He growled and she laughed, dashing away. She managed to score twice more before he caught her and, with a lithe twist, took her off her feet. Before she could wriggle free, he used his body to hold her down. He caught her hands, holding them above her head.

  Their eyes collided and all amusement faded away. With a harsh sound, Centauri lowered his head and captured her mouth. He tasted surprise and laughter but under it all was heat. He moaned, deepening the kiss. Releasing her wrists, he tangled his fingers with hers, pinning her to the earth.

  The zephyrs, however, weren't finished with them. In a flurry of dust and pollen, the air sprites surrounded them. Star's hair flew around them like a mad, silver tornado. As quickly as it had begun, it was over.

  Star began to laugh.

  "Tie me up, tie me down suddenly takes on a whole new meaning,” she managed.

  The zephyrs had braided her hair through the grass and flowers and wrapped it around their arms, chaining them together. Centauri buried his face against her neck, stuck somewhere between exasperation and amusement.

  "Well, well, well. If it isn't himself, gracing us with his exalted presence,” a pert voice announced from somewhere around his feet. “And to what do we humble folk owe this honor?"

  Centauri groaned. He knew that voice. It wasn't necessarily what he would call help.

  "And with company,” the teasing voice continued from a thick bunch of sweet grass to their left now. “Oh, day of days, himself has finally found a female who can tolerate him."

  "Foxglove, stop being obnoxious and show yourself.” It wouldn't make it any better to see the pixie but at least Star would stand a fighting chance against his quips if she knew what she was fighting.

  "So you can squash me again?” Foxglove chortled. “Not bloody likely."

  "I can't squash you since I have my hands full at the moment."

  "My hands would be busy, too, wrapped around the likes of her.” The pixie was now somewhere above Star's head.

  Centauri gritted his teeth, trying to ignore the amusement that trickled down his spine. “If you don't help us get untangled, as soon as I get free I will squash you. Hard."

  Star's head came up, her eyes bright. “Why do you wish to be purple?” she asked.

  Centauri looked down her, baffled. Purple? Where had that come from?

  "I knew it!” Foxglove appeared, leaning over her forehead to stare into her eyes. Star's eyes crossed, trying to focus on his tiny face.

  "Foxglove.” Centauri was losing patience, which was never a wise idea when dealing with pixies since it only exacerbated their sense of humor. “The lady can't talk to you as long as she's stuck like this. Can you and your friends help us out?"

  The pixie's dragonfly wings buzzed. “And what's in it for me if I do?"

  "Purple,” Star broke in before Centauri could remind him that continuing to live was a good incentive.

  The pixie's whistle was shrill, and louder than it should have been considering he was standing only a few inches from their ears. Around them, the fluttering of small wings could be heard as Foxglove's friends answered his call.

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  Chapter Eleven

  Foxglove was green. It was his main contention with life in general or so Star guessed from his ranting. His skin was green. His eyes were green. His hair was green. Even his wings were the horrid shade. Only the flower he wore as a hat wasn't and it was bland, plain white.

  And if there were any denizen of the Fae Realms who needed to be heavily medicated, it was Foxglove. He zipped about as he talked, never resting in one spot for more than a heartbeat or two. It was like watching a tennis match on fast forward. Star gave up when the crick in her neck got too bad. He didn't seem to notice but continued to ramble on about the criminality of being born green.

  Star sat on a log just within the tree line, allowing Foxglove's friends to untangle her hair while she laced herself back into her boots. Two more pixies had answered his call, two rather pretty if extremely different girls.

  Star had never known a pixie could be chubby but Pansy was just that. With a perpetual smile and soft apple cheeks, she was absolutely adorable. Her wings were layered shades of black and gold that complimented her purple dress beautifully.

  Lily was thin and as pale as glass. Her butterfly wings were gossamer frail in shades of cream and yellow. She was quiet and said little though that might have simply been because she knew the futility of trying to talk over Foxglove.

  "But why purple?” Star asked again for what seemed like the millionth time as Foxglove made another buzzing pass by her nose. “You could be yellow or pink or even black and white. Now that would look totally cool."

  Foxglove executed a frantic whirl in midair only to stop, upside down, to stare her in the eyes. “I'll tell if you will."

  "I don't want to be purple."

  He made a rude noise and did another intricate loop that left her feeling a bit dizzy just watching him. “What is the Moon Queen's daughter doing with his stuffiness over there?” He jerked a thumb
at Centauri who was doing an admirable job of ignoring him.

  "He's not stuffy,” she snapped and then caught herself, moderating her tone a little. “He's just better disciplined than you or I, Foxglove. That's not a bad thing to be."

  The pixie screwed up his face as if the thought of self-control made him nauseous. It probably did. “But why him?"

  "Because he asked me to."

  The pixie didn't just try to wrap his brain around that concept. He seemed to be trying to wrap his entire body around it. Star gave up trying to follow his aerobatics.

  "Besides, I can learn from him and he can learn from me and it seemed like a good idea at the time."

  "What's he gonna learn from you?"

  "How to laugh?"

  The world paused for a second as four sets of eyes fixed on her and Star flushed. Then, without warning, Foxglove let out an earsplitting whoop and Star found herself being hugged by a pixie, which felt a lot like he was trying to stick his entire head in her ear. His exuberance dislodged Pansy who caught herself at the last moment and lit into Foxglove with a vengeance. He zipped away, Pansy in hot pursuit.

  "Laughter is a good thing,” Lily said softly. She slid down a lock of Star's hair to perch neatly on her knee. “It is basis of some of the most far reaching of all magic."

  "Well,” Star admitted. “I've always thought that life is going to kill you anyway but worrying about it will kill you faster. Laughter helps keep things in perspective."

  Lily nodded. “Yes, but self-control will let you die with fewer scars."

  Centauri snorted softly. “What would Foxglove say to that?"

  The pixie shrugged. “That you're stuffy."

  "He's not stuffy,” Star muttered. “He's just not terribly spontaneous."

  "My point exactly.” Lily stood and fluttered to the ground. “That's why you're good for him."

  "The Lady's eyes are purple!” Foxglove landed on Star's head, breathing heavily. Pansy flitted past and stuck her tongue out at him. “I want to be that color!"