Garden of Light (Dark Gardens Series Book 2)

by Meara Platt

  He brushed his hand over her eyes. “Close them. Look within yourself. Listen to your heart.”

  She did as he asked. To accept that her powers were immense and able to conquer all was too much to take in at once, yet she had lifted the stone and flung it high as though it weighed no more than a pebble. Cadeyrn was right. She had to believe.

  She had to believe in herself.

  But she couldn’t quite do it. “I’ll try. But I’m only brave with you by my side.”

  Though her eyes were still closed, she sensed him dip his head toward her. His lips pressed lightly against hers for an all too brief moment. “I’ll always be with you, Melody. Always.”

  She opened her eyes as he drew away. She believed that he planned to be with her, but what if he wasn’t? Plans often went awry.

  He held out his hand to her. “There’s more I’d like to show you. Are you up for another journey? I think you’ll enjoy this one.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  A journey?

  Melody wondered if Cadeyrn meant to take her into his bed. Nonsense. His thoughts were on salvation, not passion … never passion, though he’d enjoyed their coupling and responded with unexpected ardor for a Fae.

  Cadeyrn did not take her through another portal, but led her out of the circle of stones and over a hill that looked down upon a meadow and a meandering river similar to those found in the countryside surrounding Borrowdale and St. Lodore’s vicarage. Despite the similarities, this place felt different.

  “This way,” he said when she paused at the crest of the hill to gaze up at the dazzling display of stars and the overly large, brightly shining moon. It looked slightly pink, but she dismissed it as a trick of the light.

  He waited beside her while she took in her fill and then pointed toward the distant water that glistened in the moonlight. “Come, this journey is by boat.”

  She glanced toward the river and saw what appeared to be a ribbon trail of moonbeams dancing along its silver waters. A small craft bobbed beside the shore, held fast by thick, glittering threads of rope secured to the overhanging branch of a nearby tree.

  Melody put a hand to her stomach, suddenly worried that her insides would revolt while they were on the water. She realized it was no longer roiling and she no longer tasted the foul tang. “I’m better,” she admitted with some surprise.

  He nodded. “I know.”

  “You healed me, didn’t you?”

  He cast her a small frown. “I don’t have the power. Only you do.”

  “But I didn’t do anything.”

  He shrugged. “Your heart did.”

  “I don’t think so.” She knew he must have done something, touched her in some way or intoned a silent healing chant, but she let the matter drop and concentrated on making her way down the starlit path to the water’s edge. It wasn’t a sailboat, she realized as they drew closer, for there was no mast. Nor was it a rowboat. There weren’t any oars.

  She hesitated a moment before stepping onto the thin, wooden boards of the dock, which appeared so delicate they might be swept away with the smallest gust of wind. But the dock held firm as she and Cadeyrn stepped onto it, and she soon found herself distracted by colorful circles of light moving through the water and around the vessel. At first she thought these beautiful lights were fish of some sort, but quickly realized they were Water Fae.

  “Climb in,” Cadeyrn said, keeping hold of her hand to steady her as the boat began to rock when she stepped in.

  She didn’t know whether it was her weight or the antics of the faeries now surrounding it, but she suspected it was a little of both. She wasn’t that unsteady on her feet, and these faerie beings, Cadeyrn had earlier warned, were quite playful.

  Cadeyrn released his grasp once she was safely seated on the pillowed chair in the center of the boat. “This is a punt,” he explained, “for it has a flat bottom and is propelled by a pole.”

  She glanced around. “Where do you sit? I seem to have taken the only chair.”

  Since his face was illuminated by moonlight, Melody caught his grin. He pointed behind her. “One stands when punting. I’ll take first duty since we’re headed downstream. I’ll leave the return to you.”

  She tipped her head. “I see. I get the hard work.”

  “Someone has to do it. Unless you’d care to do the honors both ways?”

  She shook her head and cast him a wry smile. “No, I’ll leave it all to you.”

  The air, Melody noted, was light and pleasant, fresh and sweet as morning dew, though it was clearly nightfall. The calming scent of honeysuckle wafted over her and suddenly the flowers along the river’s edge began to glow. Not flowers, she realized. These were also Cadeyrn’s subjects, the wee faeries who lived within his Woodlands realm.

  “You met many of my people the other night,” he said, referring to the feast held in his castle. “All were in attendance, Water faeries, Garden faeries, Meadow faeries, Woodlands faeries, and those who live within the villages of man. You saw them garbed in their court finery, the women in beautiful gowns and men in shimmering uniforms, but I wish you to see us as we truly are, as we truly live … at one with the elements of the earth. Tonight we’ll travel through my realm.”

  He untied the rope and stepped in with a casual ease as the punt began to drift from shore. Kneeling before her, he removed the long pole from its lock, maneuvered easily around her chair, and took a standing position behind her.

  She heard a soft whoosh as he dipped his pole into the water to propel them downstream, and another whoosh as he lifted it out again in an easy, rhythmic stroke, repeating the movement as they glided with the current. “The Meadow faeries live along the banks of the river.”

  He leaned forward to point them out to her. As though on cue, a rainbow of lights emanated from amid the reeds and overgrown brush along the water’s edge. That is, they appeared to be merely lights at first, until they took on human form. As Melody’s eyes adjusted to their brightness against the ebony-dark night, she realized these Fae were standing beside their homes, proudly showing them off to her. These weren’t the usual sort of houses inhabited by man, but charming little cottages fashioned out of ferns and flowers in abundant display.

  How had she never seen them before?

  In her own defense, she’d only come to Borrowdale a couple of weeks ago. Still, she had taken several strolls through the woods, across the meadow, and along the river that wended its gentle way into Borrowdale. She ought to have really looked and not been so caught up with her own insignificant affairs.

  Suddenly, she quirked her head. “What’s that?”

  Smoke emanated from the tops of several petals, like smoke rising up the chimney stack of any ordinary home, but it carried the scent of sugar, cinnamon, and honey upon its wispy tendrils.

  “Hmm, I detect freshly baked breads and cakes. Smells delicious,” Cadeyrn said with a chuckle. “Are you hungry?”

  “I wasn’t before, but I am now. Please, let’s stop.”

  So they did, and ate Fae sweet buns that tasted as good as any the Borrowdale baker, Mr. Gordimer, had ever made. The Fae baker’s oven was built within a toadstool; however, the bakery itself was situated in an overturned bucket.

  The baker and his customers gaped at her in undeserved awe, even as she licked the melted sugar off her sticky fingers, which she did on purpose, knowing it was probably ill-mannered to do so. She couldn’t abide being worshiped as someone special when she decidedly was not, and this was her not very clever way of showing that she wasn’t a queen, nor was she regal or especially grand.

  Quite the opposite, she’d taken on their size to enter their world, and though she was of average height in her mortal world, she was surprised to realize that she was on the smaller side by Fae standards. Most in the baker’s shop had to look slightly downward to meet her gaze. However, neither her small stature nor sticky hands did anything to distract their worshipful gazes.

  No matter what she said or did, al
l believed they were looking upon the Fae savior.

  As though sensing her turmoil, Cadeyrn made quick apologies to his subjects and led her back onto the punt, where they shifted back to normal size … at least it was for her, but she wasn’t really sure about Cadeyrn. “We’re naturally the size of humans,” he responded to her thoughts. “Slightly taller, actually. Ready to see more of my world?”

  She wanted to demand to be taken home, but ended up nodding instead. Her response obviously pleased Cadeyrn. He cast her a soft smile that warmed her from the tips of her toes to the tops of her ears.

  More Meadow faeries turned out to greet them.

  “If faeries are truly the size of humans, why do your subjects choose to live inside of flowers and toadstools that are no bigger than my hand?”

  “All Fae have the ability to shift their shapes to accommodate their surroundings. These Meadow Fae enjoy the outdoors, the clean scent of pine and grass and morning dew, so they choose to be small to live as close to nature as possible. We shrank to their size to enter their bakery and are now back to normal. It’s an easy transition. How did it feel to you?”

  “Smooth,” she admitted. “Like sledding down a gently sloped hill.”

  Melody waved to the Meadow Fae. They cheered and waved back. The clothes they wore were simple, not as fine as the clothes worn the night of the feast, but made of fabric finer than any materials known to humans. The plain blue shirts and brown leggings worn by the men, the soft violet, green, and yellow tunics worn by the women all shimmered with an ethereal intensity that stole Melody’s breath away.

  “Look into the water,” Cadeyrn said.

  She followed the trails of light that sprang up alongside them. “Goodness!” she cried and turned to him with a blush. “These Water Fae aren’t wearing any clothes!”

  Oh, a few of the women wore some sort of diaphanous material that clung to their bodies and emphasized their sleek curves, but the dusky tips of their breasts were clearly on display, the view obstructed only by the occasional swirls of their long red, blonde, or dark curls resting upon their bosoms. The men wore their hair shorter, so they hid nothing as they swam about the boat, diving in and out of the water with a powerful, dolphin grace, their toned bodies propelling them into the air and down again with hardly a splash.

  Indeed, they hid nothing!

  She thought of Cadeyrn making love to her, recalled the glorious strain and sinew of his hard muscle rocking inside of her, carrying her to unexplored heights. She wondered how he’d look swimming naked. He was as sleek and handsome as any of these Fae men … handsomer.

  Cadeyrn coughed.

  “Oh, dear. You heard that.”

  He let out a soft, rumbling laugh. “How could I not? I was thinking the same of you.”

  “Did anyone else hear me?” She closed her eyes and groaned.

  “No, the connection is only between you and me. Even if they did hear, they wouldn’t understand the thoughts. They’re innocents.”

  “Unlike me,” she murmured.

  “Melody, our coupling … the desires we rouse in each other … nothing we do will change our basic natures. Your heart is as pure and innocent as the day I met you.”

  “And what of your heart?”

  Whoosh. Whoosh. She heard nothing but the soft strokes of the pole as the punt glided over the water. “Care to take a dip?” he asked a moment later.

  She shook her head. “I can’t. I’ll ruin my gown.”

  “Then take it off.”

  She turned to him, her eyes wide in astonishment. “And swim naked?”

  “Aye, that’s how we Fae do it.”

  “In front of everyone?”

  “We can swim alone if you prefer. There’s a waterfall hidden in a quiet offshoot of this river. We’ll be upon it soon.”

  “What if other Fae are there?”

  “No one will be there at this time of night, just you and me.”

  “And demons?”

  “Not this far into my realm. We’ll be quite safe.”

  It sounded too good to pass up. “I’d like that,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

  With another gentle whoosh, the punt suddenly shifted to the right and through what appeared to be a low wall of reeds that gave way to reveal a quiet inlet. In the distance, Melody heard the gentle pounding of water striking rock, a sound that grew louder as Cadeyrn guided their approach.

  This little offshoot ended in a circular pool of water. At one end of the pool was a rocky hillside over which the water poured in a soft cascade into the pool. She knelt and dipped her hands into its cool depths. “It’s ice cold!” she cried with a gasp, quickly rinsing the last of the sticky buns off her hands.

  Cadeyrn waved his hand over it. “Try it now.”

  She dipped her hand in again.

  “Well?” Even the noise of the waterfall had subsided so she could hear his voice above its steady splashing.

  “Just right. Perfect.”

  “So are you,” he said, tipping his finger under her chin and turning her to face him. He leaned down and gave her a soft kiss on her lips. “So warm. So perfect.”

  She sighed.

  “Here, let me help you out of that infernal gown.”

  “No, you undress first,” she said, suddenly feeling shy and awkward. She squeezed her eyes shut to suppress the thought of Cadeyrn swimming naked beside Edain along this waterfall. The painful image of him taking the beautiful, blonde faerie into his arms and making love to her in this pool of cascading water as cold prickles stung against their cool Fae skin sent a jolt of pain through her.

  “Why are you doing this to yourself, Melody? I’ve never brought anyone here before, not even Edain.” He removed his tunic and bent to remove his boots.

  “Truly, Cadeyrn? Or are you just telling me what I wish to hear?”

  He continued to remove his garments as he turned to face her. “It is the truth. I never thought of bringing anyone here to couple. You know we Fae don’t think of such matters … it’s different … we don’t feel the same urges you humans do. I never felt such urges until you came along.” He cast her a wry smile. “And now, it seems I can’t stop thinking of you.”

  She nodded. “I believe you. You didn’t have to dignify my question with a response, for I know I’m the first you’ve known this way. The dark thought came out of nowhere and overwhelmed me. I don’t know why I said this unkind thing to you.”

  He stood naked before her now. “The ash of Dragon’s Hearth is to blame. You can control its poison, but it never fully leaves your body. It lurks within, waiting for a moment of weakness to attack. Don’t let it claim you, Melody. You and I belong together. There is no other queen for me. Nor is there anyone else for you.”

  “Not even Lord Babcock?”

  “Forget him. He isn’t right for you.”

  “Is this what this journey is about? You’re afraid that I’ll choose him over you, and you want to make sure that I don’t?”

  “Come, Melody. Swim with me.” His gaze never left hers as he undressed her, his large hands heating her body wherever they touched, so that by the time she was naked beside him, her entire body was engulfed in flames, her blood hot and bubbling with desire. Whatever doubts she’d held were extinguished. She did belong with Cadeyrn.

  Her heart knew it.

  She ran her hands up and down his taut, muscled arms, and made no protest when he lifted her into those arms with graceful ease and carried her into the pool. Nothing diminished her ardor, not even the cool spray of water splashing against her hot skin. In truth, it seemed to heighten her yearning, that mix of hot and cold crashing around her and seeming to rouse a throbbing wildness within her.

  “Cadeyrn,” she said in a throaty whisper, “something’s happening to me.”

  “Let it,” he urged, emitting a strangled growl.

  She felt the pounding hammer of his heart against his ribs, as unrelenting as the pounding cascade of water against the hard
rock surrounding their private pool.

  He drew her up against him and crushed his mouth down on hers. Water surrounded them, rippled against his corded muscles, splashed against her breasts. She felt like a fish caught on a hook, thrashing and straining in the water, desperately seeking its release, but the release she sought was the ecstatic consummation of their coupling. If Cadeyrn was her hook, she wished to be caught in his grasp forever. Cadeyrn was all she wanted.

  He swallowed her cries as he entered her, his mouth still upon hers and water now crashing around them in surging waves as he thrust inside her. He drew deeper into her, guiding her movements so that they matched his, ebbing and cresting amid the waterfall’s spray and hot prickles of air, until she heard his triumphant groans and felt his heaving shudders. She joined him in her own, sparkling release that carried her to exquisite heights and held her there in soaring rapture. In that moment, she embraced their joy, knowing it would soon pass as lightly as a ripple on the water.

  “Melody, Melody,” he said in a raw rasp, “you steal my breath away, rob me of my senses.”

  She laughed and collapsed against his sleek, wet body, tasting the salty tang of his skin as her lips grazed his shoulder. After a moment, she circled her arms around his neck and allowed herself to be carried along in his floating embrace across the pool, the cooling waters doing little to ease the heat within her, a delicious heat that would not ease while she remained with Cadeyrn.

  She closed her eyes and allowed her senses to drink in the ephemeral moment of perfection. Could this feeling last a lifetime? How long a lifetime could she have with Cadeyrn? She tried to rid her thoughts of those unsettling questions. She’d make those heavy decisions later. Not now. Those decisions would destroy her or Cadeyrn … one of them had to lose.