Wandfasted

by Laurie Forest

  “Go on,” he prods, looking me over with sultry heat. “We’ll pick this up later.”

  Flushed and disoriented, I head back to the kitchen, Vale’s fire lapping playfully at my back.

  * * *

  As we enter the room together, he attempts to bank his heat, but the fire we’ve kicked up is still simmering.

  I take in Vale’s lithe grace as he moves, his long form bending to cut up cheese, bread, sausage. His shoulder tensing as he deftly sets out plates and drinks for Beck and Ray. His manner so formal and reserved.

  I thrill in my private knowledge of him. What the heat of his mouth feels like. His wanton fire when he pushes his whole body relentlessly against mine.

  Vale looks up at me as he sets out tea, as if feeling my attention. There’s a flash of fire in his eyes that bolts out and shudders through me.

  I look away, flustered. Ray is regarding us steadily as she nurses with tired, languid eyes. Her mouth lifts in a knowing smirk, as if she can sense our thoughts. Her hair is even more spectacular in the lantern light and firelight, the silver shimmering like a waterfall and throwing off a cascade of reflections. Despite the warmth of the room, her white skin still looks faintly blue, as if she hides the essence of the ocean within herself. I find myself quickly adjusting to her half-nudity, my initial shock blunted to a mild embarrassment.

  Wand in hand, I traipse up the stairs to the bedroom, throw open the woodstove door and send out a spell. A bolt of flame rips through the wand and almost knocks me off my feet, the spear of fire slamming into the woodstove with a rattling force that makes the floor vibrate. Heart thudding, I quickly step on several sparks to keep Vale’s bedroom from catching fire.

  “Keep a looser grip on the wand,” Vale calls up from downstairs, and I frown down at him petulantly, as if he can see me. The fire I’ve cast has simmered down and burns with steady heat. I feel suddenly powerful and gloriously armed.

  I just need some practice.

  Gratified, I latch the woodstove’s door shut and saunter down the stairs, wand in hand. I pause at the bottom of the staircase to stare smugly at Vale while I triumphantly twirl my wand.

  “So, you gave your fastmate a wand?” Beck notes with unsurprised good humor.

  Vale’s sitting down, his long legs stretched out in front of him, watching me as he picks at the cheese. A small line of his fire caresses my waist, dances lightly on my cheek, brushes my lips.

  “Of course I did,” Vale affirms, his eyes tight on me. “She’s close to a Level Four Mage.”

  Beck looks to me with surprise, then grins at Vale. “Well, I suppose she’d need to be. To handle you.”

  Vale laughs.

  * * *

  I have better luck lighting the fireplace in the downstairs bedroom, producing a tight, clean flame that catches almost instantly, sending off a minimum of sparks.

  I rejoin everyone just as there’s a hesitant knock at the door. Vale opens it to reveal Edwin, hunkered down against the driving rain. The wind rips the door out of Vale’s hand and slams it against the outer wall. Thunder booms, rattling the window panes.

  Edwin peers at us through rain-fogged glasses as he steps in, lugging a shoulder sack and his violin case. He blinks for a moment at the silver-haired, half-naked Selkie, briefly mesmerized, but recovers quickly, shyly averting his eyes. Sleepy Ray stirs and looks at Edwin with some alarm, then to Beck for reassurance. They sign back and forth, gesturing toward Edwin repeatedly.

  “Hello, Tessla,” Edwin says with a sheepish smile. His eyes flick toward the wand in my hand, but his neutral expression doesn’t waver. He looks to Vale uncertainly. “Beck sent word to me. He told me to come.”

  “Oh, good,” Vale says with tight sarcasm. He turns his sharp eyes to Beck. “Let’s invite the entire population of Valgard here, shall we?” He gives a deep, resigned sigh, then takes his brother’s things, helping him get settled. I go to the cook stove to boil more water for tea, using my wand to heat the water. I overreach and have to jerk back as the contents of the kettle burst into scorching steam, charring the bottom of the pot. I glower at the pot, as if the blackened bottom were its fault. I scour it out and rinse it, ready to make another attempt.

  Vale quietly comes over and positions himself next to me.

  “Would you like some assistance, Oh Great Mage?”

  I shoot him a dismissive look as I pour more water into the kettle. “I’ll figure it out myself, thank you.” I loosen my hand, like he instructed me earlier, murmur a spell, pull all my concentration toward my line of fire that reaches for the wand and gently release a small stream of it.

  The kettle chaotically sputters, then soothes to a smooth boil. I give Vale a wide, satisfied smile.

  Vale’s smirking at me. “Very good, Mage Gardner,” he says, languid heat reaching out for me.

  Mage Gardner. I’ve his name now, I marvel. It’s still so foreign and new. I like the sound of it, and what it means to have his name. Like a wall of protection around my entire family.

  I pour tea for everyone, including myself, then rejoin Vale at the counter, my gaze sliding down his long, handsome form. The mug of tea is warm in my hands, tendrils of steam wisping up in curlicues.

  Vale shakes his head and examines the crowded kitchen. Beck’s arm is draped loosely around Ray while the couple carries on their signed conversation. Edwin intermittently talks to Beck in hushed tones, and through him to Ray.

  “We’ll never get a chance to change these lines, will we?” Vale asks with a sigh, turning his palm over to stare at the thin, curling fastlines. “They’ll stay exactly as they are,” he jests with mock gravity. “Forever.”

  He’s not looking at me, but his fire’s kicked up again, reaching out to stroke my shoulder, the skin just under the collar of my tunic. It briefly skims the side of my breast, and I playfully bat it away. I eye the people sitting in front of us and raise my brow at him in light censure. Vale reins his fire in, shooting me a look that’s both chastened and amused.

  The Selkie looks over at us and signs to Vale. Vale cocks his head in question and signs back. Ray turns to Beck and signs emphatically to him, gesturing toward me with her chin, a broad smile forming on her lips.

  When I look at Vale, there’s a spot of color on his cheeks.

  Beck’s face takes on a look of surprise, then amusement. “Sorry, Vale.” He gives Vale a knowing smirk, his eyes darting to me.

  “What are they saying?” I ask Vale.

  Vale takes a deep breath, the color on his cheeks deepening. “Apparently shifters can sense attraction.”

  I flush at this. “Oh.”

  Ray’s grin broadens, and she signs to us emphatically, reaching around the baby to ball one of her hands into a fist. She brings her other hand around to clasp over her fist.

  I mimic her movements to Vale, grasping my own fist. “What’s this?”

  Vale smirks and scratches his forehead, glancing sidelong at me. “It’s joining. Of a couple. She thinks we’d best...go off together.”

  A flush heats my face as Beck laughs and hugs a grinning Ray. Edwin looks like he’s trying to ignore us all as he averts his eyes and self-consciously focuses on his food.

  Vale gives a short laugh and grins at me, his fire warm and steady. “We’re such proper Gardnerians.”

  I nod and laugh, too. “I know.”

  * * *

  We stay up late into the night, until both baby Gareth and Ray are asleep in the chair. Edwin and Vale are talking to Beck in low tones, the three of them studying a map, their expressions grave. I watch them intently, leaning back against the counter and sipping my tea.

  “I received a runehawk from Collum late this afternoon,” Beck tells Vale. “Just before we fled the ship. He’s down in the southern lands, just off Vahrl’gul. Your mother’s leveled al
l the villages there. They saw a piece of it from where they were anchored, not far from shore. The river of fire coming in. The dragons. Our dragons.” He pauses, clears his throat uncomfortably. “The Urisk villagers made a run for it toward the water. Yelling for the ship, for help. The children were screaming. It was complete chaos.”

  Vale’s face has grown dark, hands tight around his mug as he sits back, listening. Edwin stares at the floor in weighty silence.

  Beck takes a deep breath. “The villagers swam toward the ship. Hundreds of them. And...our soldiers...they were ordered to shoot the survivors.”

  Vale winces, and Edwin remains frozen, a heavy tension thickening the air.

  Beck’s voice has grown hoarse. “A few soldiers tried to help some children who were near drowning. The children were promptly shot through with arrows, and the soldiers who tried to help them were tossed overboard. Collum said it was a massacre. And that charges of staen’en are being leveled at anyone who even shows sympathy toward the Urisk.” Beck spits out a sound of deep disgust, his eyes fierce on Vale. “I never signed on for this. And now they’re codifying the laws of the Ancient One. All those obscure religious edicts, now the law of the land.” He shoots both Vale and Edwin a significant look, glancing toward Ray. “Those laws will be none too kind to the other races, of that we can be sure.”

  They all fall into a troubled, reflective silence as Beck taps out a disjointed, agitated rhythm on the wooden table.

  Vale rises to replenish the food, and the conversation turns to less troubling topics. Ray wakes up and smiles sleepily at Beck. He starts signing everything we say so that she can loosely follow the conversation, our language too difficult for her ears to easily decipher.

  Everything is hard for Ray without her skin, Beck tells us. She’s always weak and often slightly dizzy and off balance without water to orient her. She was training to be a diplomat, her lineage connected to the Selkie ruling family via her mother’s marriage. I listen, rapt, as Beck talks about the host of shifters that exist deep in the ocean; whale-shifters, shark-shifters and others. Each group shares a shifting affinity and the characteristics of a certain animal.

  “The Selkies are a peaceful people,” he tells us. “They’re trying to bring the various groups together. She’s told me about where she lives. Beautiful caves on the ocean floor...”

  Ray waves her hand, her face tightening with pain. Beck tenses his brow in concern and stops talking about her home, her family.

  Vale gets up and offers her more food, salt cod he’s steamed for her. She’s already eaten a small bowl of fish and declines his offer of more with brusque signage, but gives him an appreciative smile.

  Edwin pulls out his violin and busies himself rosining the bow and fiddling with the strings. He lifts the instrument to rest under his chin and sends out a gentle, mournful tune. The baby sleeps in Ray’s arms as Ray drowsily listens to the music, her gray ocean eyes enraptured, her silver hair sparkling in the firelight. She seems wan and exhausted.

  And I wonder what will become of her.

  It’s a strange scene. Four Gardnerians and a Selkie, being serenaded by one of the Black Witch’s sons, the other son a Level Five Mage in a state of internal rebellion against his own people. And beside them, their Gardnerian friend, in love with a Selkie.

  And then there’s me, clutching my illegal wand, my affinity fire coursing out to wrap around Vale Gardner as his fire hungrily reaches out to meet mine.

  It all feels like home. Like I’m finally, truly and completely home.

  I turn to go up to bed, catching Vale’s eye as I leave. He throws out one long, questioning line of fire.

  I hook on to it and pull.

  Chapter 31: Fire

  It’s not long before Vale follows me upstairs.

  There’s a gentle knock at the door, tentative and polite, but there’s nothing calm about the way his fire’s running. I can feel it straight through the wood of the door, savagely hot and prowling around the door’s edges.

  A flush of excitement and trepidation rises up inside me. It’s like preparing to welcome a tiger into the room.

  “Come in, Vale.”

  I’m sitting on the edge of his bed as he enters and closes the door gently behind him. There’s a soft click as it engages, and the sound seems so fraught with possibility that it raises a prickling line straight up my spine.

  I nervously run my hand along the soft quilt beneath me, following an arc of raised thread.

  Vale leans against the wall near the door, his eyes fixed on me, his face flushed, his fire licking deliciously out toward me. I can feel his hunger flaring hotter—the same hunger that’s coursing through me.

  I’m worried that if we touch each other, we’ll explode like a lightning strike. It’s all so new for us, and there are so many other people in the house.

  “What will happen to Ray?” I ask Vale, gesturing toward the downstairs bedroom where Beck and Ray are staying, trying to calm my nerves.

  Vale takes a seat by me on the bed, the heat coming off him in shuddering flames. He takes a deep breath. “I don’t know, Tess.” He looks around, considering my question. “Probably nothing good.”

  “You know Beck’s fastmate, then?”

  “Margryt? She’s a friend of mine.” He shoots me a significant look fraught with conflict. “So, you can see I’m in a rather awkward situation.”

  “What will you do?”

  He sighs gravely. “I think the question now is, what will we do? It’s your house, too.”

  “We should shelter her,” I tell him decidedly. “And the baby.”

  He nods in obvious agreement. “If they find her skin, and don’t find her,” he says, his expression darkening, “they’ll burn it. And then she’ll be as good as dead. Tessla, I’ll do everything I can to help her, but the situation is a dangerous one.”

  Shock roils through me. “And the baby?”

  Vale tilts his head, considering. “He could pass as Gardnerian. At some point, Beck will have to fess up to Margryt.” Vale sighs. “And if Margryt is who I think she is, she’ll raise the baby as her own.”

  We sit quietly for a long, somber moment.

  I turn to him and take his hand in mine. His breathing hitches, his fire coursing straight up my arm.

  Vale lets out a long, steadying breath, pulls a small glass bottle from his tunic pocket and hands it to me. “Fain got this. For us.”

  “What is it?” I ask, eyeing the brown bark inside the bottle, trying to place it.

  “Sanjire root.”

  My eyes widen at this. Sanjire root prevents pregnancy.

  And it’s illegal in Gardneria.

  “He thought that we might not be ready for a child right now,” Vale says. “And I...can’t say I disagree. There’s too much going on out there. Too much darkness.”

  I clutch the bottle, stunned to have a choice. Suddenly overwhelmingly grateful to have a choice. “How much of it do I take?” I ask him.

  “Just one piece.”

  Emboldened, I unstopper the bottle, pull out a sliver of the root and chew on the soft, nutty bark, then swallow it. I hand the bottle back to Vale, and he sets it on a side table. He shoots me a suggestive smile that sends a hard spark of heat straight through me, our fires flaring out even hotter now, my taking the Sanjire root a confirmation of what I want from him.

  “How well can you read my affinity, Tessla?” he asks, taking my hand again, the heat flowing straight to my chest in rippling waves.

  “With startling clarity.” I give him a knowing smile as he caresses my hand. “How well can you read mine?”

  His eyes grow dark and liquid. “Intimately.” He smirks. “Your fire was playing with my neck earlier.”

  I flush. “Well, you’ve a nice neck.” I reach over to trail
my hand up along the warm skin of his neck, caressing it, slowly sliding my hand up and into his silken hair, trailing sparks. “Is this okay?” I ask, breathless.

  “Gods, Tess.” He leans in to slide his fingers into my hair and pulls me gently toward him. “Always.”

  His mouth covers mine, slow and sultry at first, holding back the torrent, but then I pull him toward me and kiss him deeply, sending my fire straight into him, striking down all our walls. Vale groans, his fire rearing, then shuddering straight through me in a searing, overpowering wave.

  * * *

  I remember everything of that night through a veil of flames.

  Delicious heat courses down my spine as Vale fumbles with my tunic laces, trailing chaotic fire all over my skin as he pulls it off me. The two of us laugh as I artlessly tug at his tunic, almost tearing the sleeve. Vale stands, steps back and throws his tunic off, and my breath hitches at the ravishing sight of him, all lean muscle lit by the lantern’s warm glow.

  I rise, and he pulls me firmly into an embrace, his lips finding mine. My hands fan out over his muscular chest, riding over the hard planes of him. He kisses me deeply as my fingers trace swirling lines of flame all over his skin that make him gasp.

  Vale pulls me back onto the bed, and I pull him on top of me, clutching at him as he presses his body against mine, our affinity lines pulsing hard, then merging to the same delicious rhythm. His tongue traces my collarbone as his fingers trail flame along my sides, my shoulders, my breasts. He pauses, his breathing erratic, and looks deeply into my eyes, as if he’s making sure I’m all right. In answer, I slide my hands over his hips and send fire through him. Vale shudders, eyes momentarily widening. Then he kisses me with fervent passion and peels off the rest of my clothing, layer by layer.

  I discover many things that Vale likes, his fire exploding when I touch him in certain ways, and he reads my affinity lines, as well, like a book splayed open. I quickly surmise that he likes to be touched, light and teasing, just behind his ear, the palm of his hand, the backs of his thighs. And he rapidly figures out that I like his tongue in my mouth and his fingers tracing heat down my spine.