by Morgan Hawke
I shoved my head out the window just in time to get a faceful of rope ladder. “Oof!” I had no idea where he’d found it, and at that moment, I didn’t particularly care. I turned to look up at the top of the inn’s thatched roof.
Alberic stood on a broad section of roof that was relatively flat in the shadow of the main peak. Beyond the roof, the moon glowed, three-quarters full. “Tie the bags together and rope them around your waist, then climb up.”
I winced. I’d done just that a few times before for random cliff climbs, and I had not once enjoyed the experience. Unfortunately, I didn’t have a choice. My prince had given me a direct order.
I did as ordered and tied the bags together, looping the rope’s end around my hips, then lowered them out the window. Grabbing a good hold of the rope ladder, I stepped out of the window and climbed up to the roof with the heavy baggage swinging at the far end of the rope. Once I reached the rooftop, I pulled the bags up, hand over hand, and set them beside me on the thatch. I then collapsed beside them, gasping for breath.
Alberic’s brows rose. “Your strength has improved.”
I eyed my prince with a scowl. “Gee, I wonder how that happened?”
Alberic snorted. “However, your stamina needs work.”
I flopped onto my back. “Great...” I looked up at my prince. “So, what exactly are we doing on the roof?”
Alberic looked up and pointed beyond the edge of the roof. “See that shooting star?”
I sat up to look where he pointed. A blue-white shooting star was indeed racing across the night sky. I then noted that it was heading straight for us.
“Oh shit!” I scrambled to get myself and our belongings, which were still tied to me, to the far side where the roof rose to its peak, and crouched unashamedly by my prince’s boot. “What the hell is that?”
Alberic smiled and reached down to pat my head by his knee. “Our transportation to the kingdom of Swanstone.”
The shooting star coalesced into a black carriage outlined in blue-white spectral flames, drawn by four sooty horses with blue flaming manes and tails. The driver of the carriage wore a broad-brimmed tricorn hat and a long coat. His dark cape flared out to either side. A long whip flicked out, and lightning lashed out from the very end.
I swallowed hard. “Please tell me that’s not Death’s coach?”
Alberic snorted. “Julian, you know I don’t believe in lying.”
I looked up at my prince. “How the hell did you arrange for this?”
Alberic shrugged. “He owes me a favor.”
Death owed him a favor?
The four incandescent black horses, snorting blue flames and tossing sparks from their flaming heels, drew the coach in an arc and slowed to a long-legged trot that brought them and the coach they drew to land on the rooftop with feather lightness alongside us. Strangely, neither the coach nor the horses gave off any heat.
I then noted that the coachman had the beaked face of a raven, though long black hair spilled from under his tricorn hat in waves to his waist. His cape shifted against his back, revealing that it wasn’t a cape at all, but a pair of enormous raven’s wings.
The coachman gathered the reins into his whip-hand, then lifted his free hand to his face. He pushed up on the beak, raising a mask from his face. He turned to face us. His eyes were the color of gold coins in a hawkish, yet quite handsome face. His golden gaze focused on me. “Have you brought me my bride, Prince Alberic?”
I stiffened. Bride?
“Who? This?” Alberic knocked on my head with his knuckles.
I flinched. “Ow!” His knuckles hurt, damn it.
Alberic snorted. “This is merely my minion.” He looked down at me. “Right, minion?”
I rubbed my head and spoke through my clenched teeth. “Yes, my prince.”
The coachman’s brows lifted, then fell, and he sighed. “Pity.” He smiled directly at me. “This one would be a most acceptable bride.”
I did not like the smile he was giving me at all.
“Minion...” Alberic grabbed me by the coat collar and dragged me upright. “Stow the bags in the boot.” He strode for the coach door. “And make it quick. Master Corwin is a very busy man.” The coach door swung open for him, and steps dropped down.
Under the coachman’s watchful gaze, I untied the bags and myself, and dragged them over to the covered boot at the back of the coach. I unlatched the leather covering and stowed each bag neatly, then coiled up the rope and stowed that too.
Alberic stuck his head out of the window and looked back at me. “Are you done yet?”
“Yes!” I buckled the boot’s covering and strode for the coach’s open door. The door slammed closed on me. I recoiled in surprise. “What...?”
The coachman leaped from his seat, his wings flaring wide. Before I could take a single breath, Master Corwin held out a massive arm, blocking me from the door. “You cannot sit within the coach.”
“What?” I blinked up at him. He was ungodly tall, and very broad in the shoulders. “Why not?”
“Prince Alberic paid the price to travel among the dead. You have not.” Between one breath and the next, he looped an arm around my waist and jumped with me in his arms. His wings flared out, and we twisted in midair. I was forced to grab onto his shoulders for balance.
He landed in his coachbox, facing the bench. “So, you will ride with me.” He set me on the bench seat, then turned and sat down on my left.
Alberic craned his neck, staring out the window. “Julian!”
I turned to look down at him. “Prince?”
Corwin grabbed me by the lapel, forcing me to sit upright. “Your servant is safe, Prince Alberic.” He gathered up the reins and smiled at me. “She rides with me.”
She...? I stiffened and stared at Corwin. “How did you know?”
Corwin snorted and lowered his raven mask over his face. “It’s obvious.” He raised his whip and his wings flared out, one sliding right behind me. He cracked the whip.
The horses snorted blue-white flames and lunged forward in the traces, drawing the coach after them. They dove from the rooftop to skim the tops of the trees.
I was thrown back against the black wing behind me. Gasping in fright, I gripped the low armrest as though my life depended on it, but I am proud to say I didn’t yell.
Corwin freed a hand from the reins to grab my arm and pull me up against his side. “Hold onto my belt.”
More frightened than I’d ever been in my entire life, and that’s saying something, I grabbed onto his wide leather belt with both hands, my knuckles going white.
He pulled on the reins and the horses lunged upward, pulling the coach high into the sky. The trees below us looked like mere blades of bushy grass, and the towns not much more than tiny candle flames amongst the greater forest. The coach leveled out, and soared onward across the sky.
Despite the fact that the breeze was rather chilly, it was the most comfortably smooth coach ride I’d ever had. I watched the land under us pass with incredible swiftness, and frowned. “Um, considering our speed, shouldn’t the wind be a lot stronger than this?”
Corwin gathered the reins and the whip into his far hand and slouched back into the seat. “A barrier has been cast around the coach and team. It keeps the rain off, too.” He lifted his free arm and set it around my shoulders.
“Oh...” I looked up at my unusual host. I didn’t have the guts to tell him to remove his arm. He was Death, so to speak, or at least worked for Death. Also, I couldn’t help but feel a bit safer, considering that there wasn’t much holding me to the airborne vehicle beyond my hands on his belt. “So, um... How did you end up driving...this?”
Corwin looked over at me, his eyes glowing bright gold behind his mask. “Death’s coach?” He shrugged and looked toward his horses. “I inherited the position from my father, as someday my child will inherit the position from me.”
I blinked. “You have a child?”
“Not yet.” He turne
d toward me and chuckled. “I need a bride first.” His arm tightened around my shoulders. “Would you consider being my bride?”
I thought about it. He was handsome, and showed no sign of Alberic’s level of sadistic cruelty, and he did have a steady job, even if it was a bit unusual. On top of that, being his bride would be one way to escape Prince Alberic. However, one thing bothered me. “What makes you think I’d make a good bride?”
Corwin turned to face the sky ahead. “You are lovely and unafraid.”
I stared at him. Lovely...? He thought I was lovely? I shook my head to get myself off that thought. “What do you mean by unafraid? I’m scared to death of falling off this thing!”
He snorted. “But you do not fear me.”
I frowned. “You seem nice enough. Why would I be afraid of you?”
He lifted his chin and looked away with a groan. He looked back at me. “Perhaps because I drive Death’s coach and I’m not quite human?”
I snorted. “You’re not the only not-quite-human I’ve met.” That was an understatement. To begin with, I’d always suspected that my prince wasn’t quite human. His sadistic streak was downright demonic. Then there were the phantoms, witches, sorcerers, evil princesses, psychotic princes, lake nixies, pond naiads, garden fairies, and forest fey that had a tendency to harass us whenever the prince decided to leave the castle. I shrugged. “One gets used to such things.”
“Is that so?” His voice was soft. “Do ghosts bother you?”
I rolled my eyes. “Only the ones that try to kill me.” I gave him a half shrug. “Though the ones that look half-rotted do give me the creeps.”
Corwin chuckled and shook his head. “I’m not particularly fond of those either.”
The coach dove into a cloud, and the wind became decidedly icy. It cut right through my coat and clothes. I shivered hard.
Corwin’s wing closed around my right side all the way down to my ankles, practically tucking me against him. It might have been a bit too cozy for propriety, but it was definitely warmer. He glanced down at me. “You are welcome to put your feet up and lean against me. We will be traveling over the sea soon, and the air can be quite cold.”
I took him up on the invitation to lean against him. The air was beginning to be bitingly cold, and it was very warm under his wing. My eyes drifted closed. I was dead tired. It had been one hell of an exhausting day. A yawn escaped me. I clapped a hand over my mouth and glanced up at him. “Oh, sorry.”
He chuckled. “Feel free to sleep if you like. We won’t arrive until sometime after dawn.”
“Oh, okay.” Without further adieu, I tucked my feet up on the seat and snuggled up against him.
Corwin’s arm slid down around me, his hand cupping my hip.
I freely admit to falling fast asleep. I also freely admit to seriously wondering what Corwin’s kiss would be like before I did so. Would it be anything like my prince’s?
* * * * * *
I awoke with my cheek resting on a rather hard, if warm pillow that smelled strongly of leather and pleasantly of something else, something masculine. I turned over and opened my eyes to the most incredible sunrise I’d ever seen. Delicate pinks, violets, and soft butter yellows spilled across the tops of the clouds under a sky of china blue. “Wow...” I sat up to get a better look and suddenly realized that not only was I looking down on the sunrise from the driver’s box of a flying carriage, my pillow had been the coachman’s leather-clad thigh. I looked back at Corwin, and my face heated despite the chilly breeze against my cheeks. “Eh... Sorry.”
Corwin merely snorted. “I didn’t mind.” He turned toward me and nodded, the yellow beak of his raven mask dipping. “I never tire of seeing the sun rise from above the clouds.”
I rubbed the sleep from my eyes. The clouds warmed to pale orange with hints of violet. Below us lay a wrinkles sheet of deep blue, the ocean. “It really is gorgeous.”
Corwin pointed dead ahead, toward the North. “Do you see that line of green?”
I narrowed my eyes. There was indeed a smudge of green on the edge of the wide blue expanse. “Yeah...”
He nodded. “That is the country of Lyoness.”
“Oh...” The ride was nearly over. Oddly, I felt somewhat disappointed.
He pointed to his left. “My home is on an island in the far west.”
I dutifully looked past him. “Oh?”
Corwin shrugged. “It’s not a particularly large island, but the view of the sea from the manor overlooking the cliffs is nice.”
I looked up at him in some surprise. “You have a manor?”
He chuckled. “I have to live somewhere.”
I ducked my head to hide the heat filling my cheeks. “Well, yeah, I guess you do.”
A shout came from within the carriage. “Are we there yet?”
I flinched and felt a small stab of guilt. I hadn’t even considered how Prince Alberic was doing back there.
Corwin turned to shout back. “Twenty more minutes.”
Alberic stuck his head out of the window. “Good! Make sure you drop us off near civilization. I’m starving!”
Corwin raised his whip. “As you wish, your highness.”
~ Eight ~
The flying coach eased down among a forest and settled surprisingly gently on a deserted road. The blue-white flames on the horses winked out as though they had never been, and the carriage rattled and swayed down the rutted dirt road like any other conveyance. Corwin removed his mask, and his wings faded into a tattered leather cape. Only minutes later, the forest became farmlands on the edge of a huge walled town surrounding a magnificent white stone castle.
All too quickly, the coach clattered across the wide stone bridge and through the town’s arching portcullis. According to the name carved into the arch, we had arrived in Kingston, the capitol city of Swanstone, with nearly two whole weeks to spare.
Corwin pulled his team to a halt before a rather imposing marble and gilt hotel. He turned to me with a warm smile and a touch to his tricorn hat. “I enjoyed having your company, Julianna.”
I nodded and smiled. “Thank you, Corwin. I enjoyed the ride.”
“Julian! Get your scrawny ass down here and make like a baggage mule!”
I turned to see my prince scowling up at me. I turned back to Corwin and rolled my eyes. “Duty calls.”
Corwin’s brow lifted and his gaze narrowed above his smile. “So I see.” He offered me his hand to help me down from the driver’s box. Before I took that last step down, his fingers tightened around my wrist, stopping me. His voice dropped to a whisper. “If you should wish to see me, whisper my name to any crow or raven, and I will come.”
I nodded. “I’ll remember that.”
“Peon! Quit flirting with Death and get your ass moving!”
I dropped to the ground and turned to face my prince. “Proceeding...!” From the corner of my eye, I caught the sight of his boot swinging for my butt. I lunged forward and dodged it—barely—then hurried off to retrieve our bags from the coach’s boot.
I pulled our bags from the carriage with all due haste, waved good-by to Corwin and turned around to face my prince. He was nowhere to be seen on the sidewalk or the road. We hadn’t brought our horses, so he couldn’t have gone far. On a whim, I looked through the hotel’s glass doors and discovered him on the far side of the lobby.
Not quite sure what was going on, I hauled all our bags into the marble-floored lobby of the hotel.
My prince took a heavy brass key from the girl at the carved oak counter. With a pointed glare aimed at me and a lift of his chin, he headed farther into the hotel.
I hefted the bags to my shoulders and followed him, frowning. “We’re not staying at the castle?”
Alberic spoke without looking at me. “No.”
No? But that was where the unicorn hunt was supposed to be, wasn’t it? Bowed under the weight of the bags, I lurched after him all the way to the cast-iron gated lift. “You know, we could have used
a porter to carry the bags.”
Alberic shot a quick, narrow-eyed look at me. “No.” By the chill in his narrowed gaze, the lift of his chin, the slight tightness in his jaw, and the stiff way he held his shoulders, I could tell that my prince was on the edge of a temperamental explosion.
I cringed. Oh shit...
The bellman in the lift closed the gate behind us. “Floor, please?”
My prince crossed his arms and lifted his chin. “Penthouse.”
“Yes sir.” The bellman moved the lever on the right hand wall into the upward position. The lift rose under us.
The higher we rose, the tighter dread coiled in my belly. I had no idea what had upset my prince, so I had no idea how to diffuse the situation. My only hope was that someone supremely stupid would cross his path, allowing him to vent whatever frustration was seething within him.
The lift opened onto a short hallway with only one carved white door at the end. The door opened onto an opulent suite of rooms that rivaled the Prince’s own bedchambers for elegance.
I blinked in open-mouthed surprise. “Wow... Posh.”
The main receiving room was painted sky blue with white molding, and the ceiling was domed with huge floral motif in white. A white marble fireplace commanded the back wall flanked by tall windows. In the center of the room on a huge circular Arabian carpet, was a low oval table of white oak surrounded by loungers upholstered in midnight blue velvet and silver braiding. On either side of the main room, an ornate door opened into bedrooms with magnificent canopied beds.
The far door on the right, closest to the fireplace, held a private bathing room with a pull-chain flush toilet. I dropped the bags on the carpet and rushed in to take advantage of that particular amenity. It had been a very long carriage ride.
I walked back out of the bathing room feeling quite...relieved. “Now, this is a hotel!”
Alberic shrugged out of his black leather traveling coat, tossed it over the back of one of the lounges, then flopped down on the lounge and threw out his arms across the back. “It is nice.” His eyes narrowed to green slits and his lips curled up in a chilly smile. “Too bad you won’t be staying here.”
