by Marie Hall
“To call them his parents is to dishonor their memory in my mind. Because no child of the heart could have done to them what he did.”
Brown eyes roamed his face with a quickness that said she was desperately curious and terrified to ask.
Looking straight at her was making it difficult for him to focus. Making sure to keep one ear open to any possible intruders, Robin lay down on his back and stared up at the stars, conjuring the memories of a most painful adolescence.
“We were ten. Crispin was full of piss and vinegar. I was the firstborn, which automatically entitled me the keys to the realm. To the castle. To the people. He resented me for it.”
A blazing comet of brilliance cut across the clear navy sky. The heavens were a genie’s true domain. He’d never been as cognizant of the stars and the sky as he now was.
She rested her head on her fist. Robin wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to look at the stars the same way again.
“He would always say things. Strange, nonsensical things. How our parents loved me most. How they were ashamed of him. But it wasn’t true. Not at all. In fact, it was quite the opposite.”
He chanced a glance at her. Nixie’s face was enraptured, gazing upon him with a silent intensity. She clung to his every word, and a tale he’d never wanted to relive again he now found rolling easily off his tongue.
“He was more brave than I. A better hunter. A better swordsman. He learned languages quicker. Everything, everything came to my brother quicker. I was silent. Broody—”
“I can hardly imagine that.” Her lips twitched and he chuckled when he realized she teased him.
His chuckle made her have one of her own. Their gazes never wavered, though; the bond between them—such as it was—seemed suddenly infinite.
She closed her eyes first. “Go on.”
Clearing his throat, her brought her hand to his lips, giving the cold fingertips a quick but firm kiss. He’d never liked touch. Never craved it. Not until her. Now it seemed he couldn’t breathe properly if he didn’t at least keep some link between them.
“It was my silence that they misunderstood, though. I was not silent because I had nothing to say. I was silent because I knew too much. I knew that my mother did not love my father. That she’d actually been in love with one of my father’s squires. That she’d known him since infancy and theirs had been a true love match. I knew that my father resented her infatuation with the man—so much so that he kept a revolving door of women in his bedchambers each night. I learned that there was very little truth spoken within my home. And so I kept it to myself. But do not misunderstand, for all that they were flawed, they did love us. They simply did not understand us.”
“That’s very nice of you not to hate them. I think if my father had ever looked at someone else with more favor than me, it might have shattered me.”
Her whispered confession made his heart feel lighter.
“Ah, my pet.” He traced a finger down the velvet line of her cheekbone. “I think you would have been the favorite. How could you not be? The way you look at others. At me.”
Her breathing grew just a tad unsteady. “How…how do I look at you?”
With wonder. Like I am so much more than me. The words burned on his tongue, but he gave her a grim smile instead, deigning not to answer.
“The day I realized my brother’s thoughts,” he continued, burying the stab of conscious he felt at her gentle sigh, “I attempted to warn my father. But it was like”—his gaze turned distant as the memories rolled back like the hands of a clock—“like I was a ghost. Nobody saw me.”
He’d stood in the middle of that great hall, screaming at the top of his lungs for somebody to please look at him. All around had been men and women, drinking and being merry. Sharing plates of food. The room had been alive with the scent of roasted pheasant, rich cheeses, and yeasty breads. Somewhere someone played a lyre very softly.
His father had been dressed in full royal regalia, wearing his crown and smiling down at his friends and peers. His mother right beside him, resplendent in her gown and jewels. Both of them so unaware of the danger.
“Please. Father. Father. Please, listen to me!”
Robin shivered.
“Crispin had slipped the juice of the oleander root into their cups. Right in front of the entire gathering. Smiling at me as he did it. I screamed, Nixie, at the top of my little lungs. Begging them to heed me, but I could not move my legs. I could not run to them. I was locked, frozen with fear, watching as my brother spelled their end. And then they drank.”
“Oh God,” she whispered, covering her mouth, “that’s so horrible.”
“Aye.” He inhaled sharply, blinking until the images scattered. “The dose was so powerful that it only took a sip. He must have mixed it with some sort of fairy potion, because they both looked up at me.”
“I thought they couldn’t see you?”
“They couldn’t,” he nodded in agreement, “not until it was over. Then Crispin let out this horrid, bloody scream. He did it! He’d pointed at me. And that was when I finally saw my brother for who he was. His truth, as it were. In the blink of an eye, he’d altered his appearance, turned his hair brown, his eyes green. I didn’t see the guards coming at me, I was too riveted by the sight of a brother I no longer knew. He was smirking and all I could say was, ‘Brother, what’s happened to you?’ Then I was grabbed.”
He never saw it coming. But somehow Nixie’s lips found his, and though there was enough heat between them to ignite a wildfire, her touch was gentle and soothing. A balm meant to heal, to knit his soul back together again.
There was no tongue, no sounds. Just her soft, sweet, sugary lips.
The kiss didn’t last long, but they were both heaving for oxygen when she broke apart.
“Nixie—”
She placed a finger over his mouth, stalling his words. “That was an I’m sorry. What happened then?”
It took him a moment to gather his thoughts. “Then…then I was tossed in prison. In a dungeon. I think he meant to torture me. I can’t be sure. But my brother didn’t know everything about me. For a week I was left alone, with only an occasional visit from him. Once to tell me to speak to no one about what he could and the other time, he merely looked at me. As though not sure what to do with me. The rest of the time I shut up in darkness, given just enough food to sustain me, but I grew weak and I knew that if I didn’t do something to leave there right away, I would never get out again. And that is how my silence saved me. Because my family did not know me. They did not know how I would sometimes travel the tunnels beneath the castle. How I knew hidden ways in and out of that dungeon. So while I still had a bit of strength left to me, I made my escape. And that was when I saw John, not much older than me. A big, brawny man even then, so I made a deal with him. His freedom for his eternal loyalty.”
“And of course he said yes.” She smiled.
A sound between a sigh and a shudder rolled out of his body as he cupped her warm cheek. “Would that I could keep you forever too.”
The words hung between them, sharp and full of truth. He felt his eyes flash, but not just with desire this time.
Nixie didn’t push him away; instead she clung to his hand that still cupped her. “One more wish, Robin, and then I’m gone, never to return again.”
Those words were a blow to his gut. “How can this be so real between us, and we that have only just met? I feel as though I can tell you anything. How have you done this to me, woman?”
A rich, lilting sound of her laughter swaddled them. But there was a freneticism to it too. “I’ll be found by another and another and another and I’ll…” She squeezed her eyes shut. “I’ll never forget you, Robin. Please know that.”
They both knew that tonight he’d make his final wish. As soon as his men arrived. John was due here any moment.
“What did you do at the party?” she asked.
His genie was no fool. She’d never questioned that it was he
who’d somehow caused the disturbance. They both knew he had.
“The pages rolling out the carpet, those were my men. Hidden, even from your eyes. When Crispin stepped away from the stage, calling the women to him, the scream was his. Most of my men had been planted in there as not only knights, but even a few women. The chances that we ran into one or three of them on our way out was fairly good.”
“I had no idea. Wow. No wonder you didn’t let me look at them when I changed them.”
It was important she know something. “If…if by some chance the lamp had been stolen, taken from me, I did not want to run the risk that if you’d been captured you would know anything that could place you in harm’s way.”
Her gaze was searching, as if trying to divine the truth in his words.
“I would not lie to you, my pet. Not for all the treasures in all the world.”
“I did not think you would.” She reached out a hand, her fingers extended as if she meant to touch him.
He leaned forward an infinitesimal inch, just as desperate for her touch. His skin felt raw, electric, his body nothing but one giant, screaming, exposed nerve.
“So you’ve taken Crispin, now what? You’ve not the power to change yourself as he has. Is that your wish? To take his place? Because otherwise you’ll be caught. You’ll be hanged for this, regardless that he’s a monster, they, none of them know it.”
“My wish is not to alter my appearance. Crispin’s power is compellment. To make you believe the words that come out of his mouth. But he’s not got the power to make you see him as anything other than what he truly is.”
She frowned. “I don’t—”
“I learned his secret long ago.” He held up his hand, the one with the ring on it.
Nixie shook her head. Tracing the ruby eyes of the horse. “This ring is magic?”
“No.” He frowned. “Not this one in particular. This is replica of his. His ring causes you to see any illusion he wishes. The ring he wears was my father’s. It was only after many years that I made the connection.”
She gripped his hand tightly. “What is your plan, Robin? Please, because none of this makes sense to me. I need to know that whatever it is, even after I’m gone, you’ll be safe and not hunted like a dog.”
And there it was.
Something he hardly dared believe, and yet, his gifts proved her right. She cared for him. Completely. As he did for her. And though the enormous feelings that raged between them should terrify him, it didn’t. Because this almost felt like they’d known this level of commitment between them before.
Was it possible that a story penned by fairies long before either of them was born entwined their souls in such a way that they could already be one? Was something like that even possible?
Mind, stomach, body—all of it was in chaos. Crispin was in his grasp. Seconds away from receiving the punishment he so desperately deserved. The realm would once more be safe from his brother’s avarice. And he would lose his Maid Marian forever to do it.
“I will switch out the rings. I will wear the spelled one. I will transform myself into the man he’s become.”
“And your wish?” she whispered.
“To send him far, far away, to a land where no souls exist for him to beguile, and where he can never leave and never be found.”
“I can do that now. Right now. We can end it all here.”
“I…I can’t.” He shook his head.
“But Robin. What if Crispin tries to compel you?”
“He can’t. Not anymore. Not now that I see him for who he is.”
“But me? The men?”
A flower-tinged breeze ruffled through the loose ends of her hair. She took a deep breath, causing the red color of her gown to twinkle from the soft spill of moonlight dancing upon it. Gods, she was lovely, and he’d never been more jealous of the liquid drops of moon glow kissing the perfection of her bronzed skin as he was now.
“I have shown you who he is, and you can fight it. And though my men know him well and how he does what he does, I will not allow them around him for longer than I deem necessary.”
Off in the distance Robin heard the gentle scuffle of light footsteps approaching. His men were close now.
She too must have heard them, for she quickly glanced away.
He sat up quickly, as did she. But when she went to stand, he grabbed her arms, almost violently.
“The moment I make my wish, you will leave me?”
She swallowed hard.
“Gone inside your lamp, and discovered by another?”
Nixie’s smile was soft and so heart shatteringly sad that he felt cleaved in two by it.
“It was so nice knowing you, Robin Hood.”
“What if I never make it?” In the recesses of his mind, he’d toyed around with the idea. There were ways of jailing Crispin, not as absolute as what could be attained by use of her magic, but ways.
She closed her eyes, fingers digging tightly into his palm. “That’s now how this works. You can’t not make your wish, you must make all three.”
He moved into her. “I will keep you. I’ve already decided. Come what may. If I must make my wishes then I must, but I will still find you.”
“You don’t understand.” Her brown eyes gazed at him miserably. “You can’t ever claim me again. Even if you found me, it doesn’t matter. And you’ll never know where I’ll be tossed, because I don’t know where I’ll be tossed.”
Robin pressed his palm to her heart. “But I feel you, inside me. Your soul, entwined with my own. I will find you.”
Her lips trembled. “But—”
“Even if I cannot be the one to rub the lamp, I’ll send one of my men. Every time. We’ll find you, Nixie, I’ll always find you.”
She could tell him about the internal compass, about how she’d always know where he was, regardless of where she landed next, but that would simply give him false hope. Because, though she’d know where he was, she could never go to him. The only reason she’d been able to get to Josiah was because she’d been a free woman. Their situation was entirely hopeless.
A tear spilled out the corner of her eye and he knew she did not believe it possible. But will was a powerful force, a magic all its own. Nixie was his, and he would never let her go, not without a fight.
“My identity, who I am, they’ll know then.”
He had only enough time to plant a swift kiss on her lips before John barreled through into their clearing, they would work out the mechanics of everything later. He would make this happen. One way or another.
“Oh.” John looked startled when he caught sight of them and quickly adjusted his friar robes. “I thought, well, I…”
“It is all right, my friend.” Robin stood, helping Nixie up too before gently brushing off the blades of grass clinging to her gown. “She and I were merely saying our goodbyes.”
“Goodbyes?” John looked startled. “Where are you going, Marian?”
Nixie looked startled. “You were the monk?” she gasped. “Holy hell, I never even recognized you.”
John’s answering smile was swift, but full of good humor.
Robin was grateful that he’d taken John’s memories of the genie away. It pained him to think of the earlier discord and distrust between his best mate and her. Nixie should always be accorded his men’s deepest trust. They had no idea of the amazing, and awe-inspiring woman that truly walked among them.
“Well, that is the point, my lady.” John executed a perfectly timed and deep bow. “Though you did not answer me. Where are you going?”
Was it possible that Robin would not be the only one to miss her? Judging by the tenor of his friend’s voice, he’d say she’d made an impact on more than just him.
Her smile was bittersweet. “I must go soon. Though I will not forget you.” She didn’t look at Robin as she said it, but he was sure those words were meant for him alone.
“And Crispin?” Robin asked clearing his throat, watching as one
by one his men returned to their assignation point.
“With Maurice, who should”—John turned and held up an arm, his full lips going wide with a smile—“ahhh, be here any moment.”
As if conjured by thought, Maurice came tromping through the clearing just then, hanging on to Crispin’s collar with a chokehold grip.
Crispin glared at all of them.
His lips were swollen and bloody, as was his left eye. His crown had been lost ages ago. The ridiculous cloak he’d worn for the ceremony was now hanging half off one shoulder and his red tights were tattered at the knees.
“My men will find me, and when they do, you will finally die, Robin, as you should have all those years ago.”
Chapter 18
Why hadn’t he wished the man gone already? Delaying the inevitable only made everything harder.
Nixie twisted her fingers into her gown. One more wish, and then she’d be gone. Not that she’d be a genie forever, only twenty more years of this torture, but she’d be gone from him forever. There was no way he could find her, magical bond between them or not, there was no way.
And that felt even worse.
She glanced at Robin, awaiting his signal.
The mood around the camp was tense and so still that she could hear her heartbeat. Everyone seemed poised with their hands at the ready on the hilts of their swords, waiting for Robin’s orders.
Crispin spat a crimson trail by Robin’s foot. “So?” he taunted. “Tell me, brother, what do you plan to do with me now?”
Crispin’s blue eyes began to glow; clearly he was going to use his magic. Trying to compel Robin’s men into releasing him, or something of that nature.
“John, now!” Robin ordered.
With a violence that was astonishing, John slammed a hammy fist down onto the base of Crispin’s neck. The wicked king crumpled like an empty sack to the ground.
Working his jaw from side to side, Robin toed his brother’s body. If it weren’t for the occasional rise and fall of his chest, Nixie would have sworn the man dead. As sweet as John now was to her, she’d learned a healthy respect for those hands of his.
