“Who knows how strong they are, how long they last?”
“But the general area out there—” he gestured toward Yellowstone “—benefitted from your balancing, from having the sheets of elemental energies summoned, from the bubble that popped. Sure, most of the energies were split in five directions, but not all the magical particles were caught by our various wills. There was plenty of ambient magic remaining even that night to convince the human tourists that they witnessed nothing extraordinary. It took only very minor magic to bend their minds, much less than usual.”
“Oh.”
“So the area will get magic, spreading out, even if the Eight perform a ritual to direct it.”
Jenni winced as she recalled the Queen of Earth creating a ritual that didn’t happen. “Uh, how is the writing of that ritual going?”
Aric raised his brows. “I am not fully in the Eight’s confidence. But the Mendocino Junction event may be at sea. So the Water Queen is crafting the ritual.”
“I like her,” Jenni said, dishing out some more vegetables.
“Everyone loves her, and she’s very strong, which is why her consort is such a jerk.”
Jenni choked, looked around the suite again. “You’re sure we can’t be heard.”
“Pretty much.” He stared at her some more, said, “Ah…”
“Yes?”
“We have been asked to visit the Lightfolk who holds the estate where the bubble is anticipated to burst.”
“Holds how?”
“Owns. She owns the land and strip of rocky beach fronting the ocean. It’s part of the lost coast of California. Eighty miles of country so rugged that there aren’t any roads close. She has a helipad for the ridge house, but probably has an underwater palace, too.”
“A merfem?”
“Yes.”
“And we’ve been ordered there. Me to check out the place and balance, and you to recon the area for a good place to do the ritual dance?”
“Yes.”
“What’s the weather like there?” Jenni asked.
“Cold and rainy. Mud.”
“Can’t be as bad as Northumberland.”
“No.” Now Aric cleared his throat. “I should tell you that Rothly has left the Earth Palace, returned home.”
Jenni should have felt her brother absenting himself, but hadn’t. The Eight probably sent him home because he wasn’t of any more use to them. She sighed. “Oh.” Then she shrugged and sighed again. “Not my problem…anymore.”
Aric reached out and took her hand. “I’m sorry he continues to hurt himself and you.”
“I am, too.”
Aric lifted her fingers to his lips. “I’m very glad that you are…reconciling with the past.”
“I am, too.” She met his eyes. They were the dark green of the deep forest. She inhaled. “But you have not reconciled with yours—the emotional aches of your childhood.”
He dropped her hand, bristled. She could imagine pine needles quivering with affront. “I have.”
She propped her elbows on the table, put her chin in her hands. “I had a happy childhood, but since then I’ve been through a lot.” She looked past him at a huge tapestry showing flying horses dancing in the air, tried a smile, but it was more sad than happy. “I’m working on forgiving myself…and you. I think there will always be a piece of guilt-grit in me. And you’ve dealt with the events of fifteen years ago at the portal opening very well. Much better than me.” Another deep breath and she met his eyes again. This time they were more brown of anger than quiet green. “But you’ve never dealt with your childhood.”
“I beg your pardon. I’ve come to accept my mother, the flighty dryad.”
“But you’ve never released the anger and resentment of your father’s abandonment.”
Aric stood. “I don’t need to hear this.”
Jenni snorted. “We’ve exchanged places.” He was irritated enough that he was heading for the door. So much for sharing sex and loving tonight.
He stopped with his hand on the knob. “We’ll leave for California in the morning.”
Putting her napkin on the table, Jenni stood and nodded. “Fine.”
Once more he hesitated, Jenni was feeling an inner pull from him to come together, maybe he was feeling the same.
“My father was not a good father.” Aric’s jaw flexed, and Jenni realized that he was a mixture of two natures, facile air elf and solid dependable Treeman…and the “flighty dryad” contributed to his character, too. When he was younger he’d been so much easier in manner. He continued his explanation, and his knuckles had stopped being white on the doorknob. “Many elves raise their sons. Many are not ashamed of them.”
“Many Folk—human and Lightfolk and Treefolk—don’t know how to relate to or raise children.”
“Unlike your parents,” he said. The wistful look on his face caught Jenni, had her throat closing. Another old expression she’d seen time and again when he looked at her parents, her family.
“Yes, I had a loving family from the day I was born. They died a terrible death, too soon. I hope they would be proud of me now. They would not have been proud of me last week, but they would have understood. Perhaps if more of us had lived we could have helped each other better through the grief.” She shook her head hard enough that her hair was flung in her face, and she had to smooth away the strands. “But they died and never saw me as an adult.” Not that she felt too mature. “They died and years of love and understanding and disagreements and arguments vanished. But your father is still alive. Perhaps you could relate to each other better now, as men.”
Aric’s face clouded, set into a hard carving. “Jenni, the elf loves nothing and no one but himself.”
“You’re wrong.”
Aric’s face cracked into shock.
Jenni shifted her balance. She felt as if she were walking on the crusty ground near one of Yellowstone’s hot pools, any minute she could fall through and be boiled. “He’s a well-known bard.” In fact, she thought the elfman had adapted well enough to the current era that he had works out from the old wax cylinders to the latest music tech…under different names, of course. “He loves music.”
“He lives for admiration.”
“He loves music.”
Aric’s jaw and fingers tightened, but he hadn’t opened the door. “He lives for admiration and loves nobody but himself.”
Jenni let her breath sift from her. “Maybe that’s true, but when was the last time you saw him…spoke to him?”
“I saw him about seven years ago and turned and walked away before he saw me.”
“Aric,” Jenni said softer than human ears could hear. “You helped…are helping…me understand and get through the events of the worst time of my life. Let me help you.” She moved her hand in a tentative gesture. “You aren’t whole, aren’t the entire man you could be without reconciling your feelings about the elfman who gave you life.”
Aric grunted. “You’re right, his seed produced me, that doesn’t make him a father.”
“No, but you are still being hurt by him. It’s a splinter, a thorn, in your spirit.” Her smile was grim. “You’ve been making me pick out my thorns to heal.”
They stared at each other.
Chimes rippled through the air and Jenni blinked away first, scanned the room for the crystal ball.
“Calling Princess Jindesfarne Mistweaver Emberdrake,” said a female voice as rippling as the chimes, with an extra lilt of joy.
Aric’s shoulders lowered, releasing some tension. “Mother. She always had good timing.”
He moved away from the door and waved toward an étagère that held art…and a glowing ball that Jenni hadn’t noticed before. As she walked to it, Aric’s mother began to hum, blithely anticipating that Jenni would answer her call. Jenni had never had a call from her before, only met her about three times.
She shouldn’t have been nervous, tree dryads were about the easiest beings to be around, but this was Aric�
��s mother and Jenni had lived in the human world a long time. She tapped the ball that was at eye level and stared into Leafswirl’s greenly smiling face.
“Hello, Jenni,” the dryad caroled.
“Hi, Leafswirl.”
She beamed. “It’s so good to see you!”
Jenni figured Aric’s mother wasn’t sure how long it had been since they’d interacted last…about sixteen years.
“My son is with you? Of course he is! I’m so pleased that you’re a princess, Jenni! You deserve it.”
Leafswirl had no clue. People she liked deserved the best from life and that was that.
“Thanks.”
“And how is precious Rothly?”
“He’s healed.” At least his arm and magic.
“How wonderful! May I speak with Aric?” Leafswirl’s gaze went past Jenni as Aric stepped near.
“Darling seedling!”
Aric flinched.
Suppressing a snicker, Jenni walked away from the ball…and caught the tiny browniefem whisking away the remnants of dinner. She smiled. “Thank you.”
The brownie bobbed and the dishes continued to be stacked on the tray faster than Jenni’s eyes could follow.
“And thank you for helping me get out on the…balcony.”
“Ledge!” the woman squeaked. The tips of her ears quivered again.
“Ledge,” Jenni agreed. “It was very gracious of you.”
For the first time there was a slight clatter of china. The browniefem looked appalled, whipped her hands up to cover the whimper coming from her mouth. She’d made noise! And when someone was conversing on a crystal ball. Her whole body shook.
Jenni went as close to her as she thought the woman would allow, made her voice the soothing of slow flames in a low, comforting fire. “You must know that I am a halfling, and not accustomed to having a personal brownie look after me.”
“Hartha, Pred…” The browniefem had stopped trembling, glanced at Jenni sideways.
“I think of them as belonging to my house…or the house belonging to them.” After their first night, Hartha and Pred had proven to be strong and practical Folk. “I’m glad you’re here, and that you helped me.” More and more Jenni figured that the browniefem wasn’t usually assigned to the suite.
“Mud clothes on you.” She began whisking the plates around again.
One of the brownies who served in the halfling fems’ dormitory? “Thank you for that, too,” Jenni said. “I’m glad you were here to care for me.”
“Halflings good!” The woman’s dark brown gaze was defiant.
“Some of us.”
“Thanks to you, too. Even short time here in suite me rises status.” The dishes, serving domes and brownie vanished.
Courtesy done, Jenni hesitated, wondering if she should let Aric and his mother have some privacy.
“…and Brightacorn had a lovely dwarfling child!”
One of Aric’s sisters. Apparently he was hearing news of his family.
“That’s nice,” Aric said.
“And since you and Jenni are coming to California, I want to see you! It’s been ages!”
“It’s been two months.”
“And there’s news! Somehow the shadleeches can’t enter the grove anymore!” The dryad twirled around, dancing. Her long leaf-hair swung with her, filling the crystal ball. Then her happy face was there again. “Somehow you did it, didn’t you? My clever son!”
Aric grunted.
Leafswirl tilted her head in a mannerism that Aric had gotten from her. Her lips curved slyly. “And the Eight would like to know how a grove is protected from the shadleeches, wouldn’t they?”
She’d gotten him there, Jenni figured.
He ran a hand through his hair. “Yes.”
“Well, I won’t tell you. You have to see for yourself. Come to me tomorrow!” Again the chiming note in her voice and the crystal ball merged as she ended the call.
“Congratulations,” Jenni said. “Results from the bubble here in Yellowstone already.”
Aric stretched, releasing tension in his shoulders, shook out his arms. “Seems like.” He glanced at her, but didn’t meet her gaze. “And it seems like we should visit my mother. Midmorning tea time?”
Dryads loved their little herbal tea parties. Jenni had nearly forgotten. No dryads in the game she worked on. She crossed to Aric and touched his arm. “Sounds lovely. You should be proud.”
He grunted again. “I am proud.” But his voice said he was resigned. Since they were now dealing with his maternal parent, Jenni decided that the issue of his father had been tabled—for a while. Maybe even until after the California bubble event. She actually had a sense that her relationship with Aric might last a while. That would be good. For both of them.
If they survived. The shadleeches had reminded her. “Kondrian will show up at the third bubble event, won’t he? And probably not only him. Other great Dark ones.”
Aric’s arms closed around her. “Most likely. You heard my mother. She already knows we were on our way to California and that was determined this morning. What the dryads know, the leaves whisper.”
“All around the world.”
“Yes,” Aric agreed.
“How many great Dark ones live?”
“Four.”
“None have been destroyed in the fifteen years since the portal opening?”
“That was the last time they massed, and we haven’t been able to pick one off since. Dark ones raise armies easily. And they’re slippery. Sometimes literally.”
Jenni rested against him, the lightening of her mood from Leafswirl and the browniefem faded to a low-level fear. Opening a portal to another world so four royals could go through was supposed to have been a joyous event. The ritual dancing had been planned to be cheerfully abandoned. All had turned horribly wrong into death and battle. After the bubble rising here in Yellowstone, she’d thought the next event would be a celebration, too. Not going to happen. Aric had probably deduced that right away…everyone but she, and no one had bothered to tell her.
“I’ll be there to defend you.” He smoothed her hair, tangled his fingers in her curls, gave a slight cough. “So will the guardians—the dwarf and the elf. You can’t get better bodyguards.”
“Guess not. Guess this mission is really important.”
He tilted her chin up with his fingers. “More than anyone knows, I imagine. Magic was draining from Earth. We think this is a way to increase it. A blessing from the core of the planet to replenish what the Lightfolk community needs.”
“If the Darkfolk don’t get to it first.”
“They won’t. Not this time. This time we’ll be ready.”
So there were plans for more than a dancing ritual. Battle strategies. She didn’t want to think of it. She closed her eyes and let her other senses soothe her. Candles she’d lit when she’d thought this would be a night of seduction still burned—adding the fragrance of spring blossoms as if there were trees blooming in every corner of the suite. There was the slight smell of chocolate…dessert? She’d like to taste chocolate from Aric’s lips. His scent mingled with the rest to please her, and his heart beat beneath her ear, and his arms were around her….
And his hands were sliding down to her butt. Felt like they might end up in bed after all. Little thrills slipped down her nerves, also pleasing her. She sighed and stepped back. His arms tightened around her, then loosened.
“Let’s have dessert. Chocolate.”
He was at the table before her, grinning. “Chocolate mousse, made by the elf chef.”
“Oh, yeah!”
Then he was seating her and she was lifting froth to her lips, letting the spoon hover before her mouth so she could enjoy the smell. Chocolate.
Aric finished first and eyed her plate.
“You know, living in the human world gives a person greater access to chocolate,” she said.
He smiled a warrior’s smile. “So it does. You’ve profited, I’ve been depriv
ed. I should have more.” His fingers crept toward her plate where a puff remained. She scooped it up in three spoonfuls and swallowed fast.
Aric shook his head and looked mournful. “No way to treat good chocolate, not to let it linger on the tongue.” He stood and was around to her, pulling her from her chair, before she put down her spoon. “Now I can taste Jenni and chocolate.”
His fingers sifted through her hair first and the sensual tingles went from her scalp to the soles of her feet, curling in her core and igniting. He knew she liked her hair stroked. He knew so many things about her, physically and emotionally. If she fell for him again and hit the ground it would be like jumping from the ledge outside the window. There wouldn’t be much left of her when she hit bottom.
She sank against his body, uncaring of the past or the future, living in the wonderful, sense-sizzling moment. He was strong…and aroused—that inflamed her.
CHAPTER 18
SHE NIBBLED AT HIS JAWLINE AND HE TURNED her head to fuse his mouth with hers and she did taste chocolate and Aric, and it was the best taste in the world. Stupid tears burned at her acceptance of the lost loneliness of missing him so much for so long. Her tongue rubbed along his and he groaned, set his hands around her butt and pulled her tight. Oh, yeah! She rose to her toes to rub against him.
With a grunt, he swung her up, broke the kiss so he could glance around the room. His eyes were dilated, looked glazed. He panted. She did, too. Before her breath steadied she was set on her feet and his hands were roving over her…to the bottom of her shirt, pulling it over her head. His fingers touched her bare skin and the noise he made was a sensual hum that she recalled.
She remembered much…the dance of their loving. How their magic twined together with each brush of fingers, each slide of skin against skin.
The air thickened with heat, with the scent of him. His hands trailed up her skin to her bra and he pulled it over her head, letting the relief of cooler air caress her. Then her bra fell to the ground and his palms covered her breasts.
Mistweavers 01 - Enchanted No More Page 18
