by P. C. Cast
CHAPTER 4
“I smell bad.” I sniffled back my tears and mumbled at him as we walked down the torchlit hallway.
“That I know—which is why I am taking you to the bathing room.”
I nodded numbly, thinking how nice it would feel to be clean. If nothing else, the thought alone was good for morale. Mine.
We walked without speaking. I noticed campfires burning in the courtyard, and I could make out the dark shapes of women cooking over the open fires. The aroma drifted in through the floor-to-ceiling windows, and my stomach growled in response.
ClanFintan chuckled. “Dinner is waiting in your chambers.”
“Thanks.”
“It is not a problem.”
“You’re starting to sound like me.”
“There are worse things to sound like.” His deep chuckle rumbled through his chest, and I felt my depression lifting in response. The guy would make one heck of a vibrator. Hell on the grocery bills, but one heck of a vibrator.
Before you could say Billy Jo Bob loves his cousin, we were walking through the door to what was quickly becoming my favorite room. I noticed that the guards didn’t flinch from my husband’s possessive stare.
“Where’s Alanna?” I looked longingly at the steaming water.
“She has a husband of her own who requires her attention.” He smiled at my confusion. “I will be your servant tonight.”
Before I could make my tired brain conjure a witty response, he had taken the back of my filthy dress in his hands, and with a quick motion, ripped it neatly in two.
“Eeek!” He could have warned me.
“You did not want to save it, did you?” His voice almost sounded innocent. Almost.
“Absolutely not. Oh and make sure you burn that nasty thing later. I don’t want any of the girls touching it.” I reached for his arm to steady myself as I stepped out of yet another tiny thong. Kicking off my sandals I practically ran, again hoping desperately my ass didn’t jiggle too much, into the pool of hot water and submerged myself up to my shoulders with a groan.
“Rhea?” he caught my attention.
Before answering him, I felt along the side of the pool until I found my sitting ledge. Situating my butt, I succinctly said, “Hmm?”
“Give me a moment.” He was shedding his vest as he spoke. “And, I must remind you again, please do not speak.”
“What?”
“Shush.”
Then his concentration turned within and he began the chant I recognized from the previous night. At the same time I felt a shiver of desire, I felt a rush of fear when I remembered the pain The Change had caused him. Again, I wanted to cry out as the shimmering became his flesh shifting and re-forming. Almost too late I remembered to close my eyes—the light against my lids was sharp and penetrating.
Then there was darkness.
Blinking, I refocused on his kneeling, temporarily human, form.
He wiped the sweat from his eyes and tried to control his accelerated breathing.
“You—” he paused to take a deep breath “—may speak again now.”
“I hate that it hurts you.”
He stood, still a little shaky. “If I could not shape-shift, we could not be together as husband and wife.”
“I know, and I’d hate that, too.”
He walked to the pool, his steps growing steadier with each stride. Using the stone stairs that led down into the water, he joined me.
“I didn’t notice that you smelled bad.” I was, apparently, a little nervous.
“I told you I would be your servant tonight.” He took a sponge and a bottle of soap from the edge of the pool. “Turn around.”
I complied happily, resting my forearms against the ledge on which I had been sitting. He swept my hair out of the way and began rubbing soap all over the back of my body.
“Mmm,” I breathed. Soon he set the sponge back on the edge, and used his strong, warm hands to rub the soap around my back, stopping at my shoulders and neck to work the knots out of my overstressed muscles. I felt myself turning to liquid.
After ministering to my backside (and I do mean all of it) he lifted me onto one of the higher ledges so that most of my torso was out of the water and he had access to my legs. Then he soaped up the sponge and began washing the front of me. I realized that, although his touch was intimate, it was not sexual. Instead, it was gentle and soothing. I watched him through my half-lidded eyes, struggling to stay awake.
“Just lean back and relax.” His voice was warm. “You have been through much today. I did not Change to be intimate with you in a sexual way—that is not what you need tonight.”
I felt a definite sense of relief at his words. I loved him, but he was right, tonight I needed to be cared for, not seduced. I closed my eyes as he started at my toes, holding first one foot, then the other, out of the water. With one hand he used the suds-filled sponge, with the other he rubbed and kneaded my sore muscles. After he finished with my legs, he moved slowly up my torso, using the sponge to gently circle the soap around and over my arms and shoulders. It seemed that with every swipe of the sponge my muscles relaxed more and more and the horrors of the day were becoming almost bearable.
“I am moving you again,” he warned.
“Okay,” I sighed, keeping my eyes closed.
He grasped my waist and let my buoyancy in the water help him move me down to a lower ledge.
“Lean back and get your hair wet, I will hold your shoulders.”
I did as I was told, rinsing the rancid smells of puke and sickness from my hair. After soaking my head, he situated himself behind me on the ledge, and began working shampoo through my wild tresses. All I could do was lean back into him, enjoying his firm touch.
“Now, rinse.” He supported my shoulders again as I lay back into the warm water, swishing my hair from side to side until it felt clean.
“Float for a time, allow your body to absorb the healing of the bath’s heat. I will not let you go.”
I lay back in the warm water, keeping my eyes closed and my mind blank. I felt bruised inside and out. Under his breath, ClanFintan began a melodic chant. I couldn’t understand the words, but his deep voice was beautiful and hypnotic.
“What are you saying?” I whispered.
“I am saying relax, love. Your cares are mine and I will never let you go.”
Lulled by the water and his love, I barely stirred when he lifted me out of the pool. By some wonderful feat of manual dexterity and raw, brute strength, he was able to wrap me in a thick towel and set me on the chair at my vanity.
“You will not fall over, will you?” he asked.
I opened my eyes just a little to see him squatting in front of me, his hands resting on my knees. I shook my head.
“This will take very little time.” He squeezed my knees and stood.
“Where are you going?” I was starting to wake up.
“Shush.”
I watched silently as he began the chant that would shift him back to his original form. It seemed to take less time than it took for him to become a human, and the light began earlier and was more intense, causing me to close my eyes and bury my face in the towel.
I heard the familiar clomp of his hooves and knew it was safe to look (and to talk).
“Are you awake?”
“That light is a little hard to sleep through. Does it hurt as much to change back into a centaur?” I asked as he scooped me into his arms.
“Stop worrying.” He tucked my head into the crook between his shoulder and his neck, and fussed around until he made sure the towel covered all of me. “I am fine.”
I nuzzled against him and kissed his neck. “Bet you couldn’t run a marathon.”
“I could run one,” he chuckled as he carried me out into the hall and headed toward my chambers. “I just would not run very fast.”
My stomach growled and we both laughed.
CHAPTER 5
My room was softly lit with about
a zillion candles (yes, most of them were in the shape of skulls, but I was learning to ignore that), and my table had been heaped full of delicious food. As usual, I was starving.
ClanFintan reclined on one of the chaises, tucking me in front of him. He leaned over me and grabbed a huge golden leg of what must have been a mutated turkey.
“Eat,” he talked through the bite of leg. “I know you think you are starving.”
I tucked the towel around me and fell to. There was a great selection of meat, vegetables and pasta. And, once again, I felt a foodlover’s appreciation for the chef’s expertise. (Note to self: give the cook a raise—or whatever.)
The wine was, as usual, a deep, rich red. Rhiannon had her bad points, but she certainly knew her food and wine.
“You remind me of a centaur female the way you love food.” ClanFintan’s chuckle rolled against my back.
“Are you telling me I eat like a horse?” I teased.
“A centaur is not a horse.” He sounded stuck-up, but I still thought he was cute. “Although we do appreciate the equine’s limited uses.”
“We only have horses in my old world,” I said between bites.
“What?” He sounded shocked, as if I’d just said babies came from cabbage patches or something equally as ludicrous.
“Yep.” I talked as I chewed a wonderful piece of fish that tasted like halibut. “In my old world, centaurs are make-believe—the stuff of fairy tales and myths.”
“How can that be?” He sounded truly offended.
“I don’t know. It’s certainly their loss.”
“Hurmph,” he snorted in agreement while he chewed. Then a thought struck him and he said, “It must have been quite a shock for you to find yourself married to a being you thought existed only as myth.”
“Tell me about it.” I smiled and took another drink of wine.
He nodded in sudden understanding. “Little wonder you were so afraid at first.” He brushed the hair back from my face in a familiar caress. “There are no shape-shifters in your world, either.” It wasn’t a question.
“You took a little getting used to.” I leaned intimately against him.
“You were very brave. I wish I had known.”
“We did just fine. You made me feel it was safe to trust you.”
“I am glad.” The worry was leaving his face. “But if I had known, I would have…” He hesitated.
“What? Waited longer?” I gave him a mock frown. “I don’t think I would have let you.”
“Well, I certainly would not have wanted to.” He bent down and kissed my neck.
“There is something I want you to know—now that you do know who I really am.” I turned at the waist so I could look directly into his eyes. “Unlike Rhiannon, I am a faithful woman. I have never been—” I struggled to find the right words that would span worlds “—inclined to sleep with a lot of different men.” His look said he understood. “You don’t ever have to worry about trusting me.”
“I already believed that of you.” His voice was hypnotic; I felt like I could get lost in its warmth. “But I cannot help but be pleased to hear you say it. I will not share you.”
I remembered his little tête-à-tête with my guards and grinned. “You won’t have to.”
He looked smug and happy.
“Hey!” I felt the need to add, “This goes both ways, you know. It’s not okay for you to mess around, either.”
He looked shocked. “Of course not. I will always be faithful to you.”
“Good.” I raised my eyebrows at him menacingly. “I’d hate to have to chase down and beat up some lady centaur. I guess Epi could help me, but I think it’d be very stressful.” And probably not particularly attractive.
His laughter rolled over me. We ate in companionable silence. I was thinking how easy he was to be around, and what a witty sense of humor he had. And he definitely wasn’t a short guy. Actually, the fact that he wasn’t technically a guy didn’t seem very important.
I was finally feeling full, so I poured myself a new goblet of wine. Before I could curl comfortably against him, the mood was broken by me having the Mother of all Yawns.
“Come.” He rose gracefully from the chaise. “You are exhausted.”
“No, really, I’m not tired.” I tried to hang back and drag my feet as he pulled me toward the bed. But try stopping a horse from pulling you somewhere. It wasn’t exactly an equal tug-of-war contest.
We got to the bed and stood looking at it. It was, as I may have mentioned before, a really big bed. But, as I glanced from ClanFintan to the bed and back, I realized that no matter how big it was, it would be incredibly awkward for my centaur husband to sleep next to me on it.
I walked over to the edge of the bed and pulled back the gorgeous golden embroidered comforter and sheets so that I could inspect the mattress. It was a huge, thick, down-filled bag, which hung suspended on lots of leather straps. I retied my towel into a more secure position, and started stripping the bedding from the top of the mattress. When the linens were out of the way, I grabbed one side of the mattress and started to tug.
“Well, aren’t you going to help me?” I asked over my shoulder as I struggled to pull the mattress off the bed frame.
“Yes.” He sounded doubtful as to my intentions, but he added his considerable strength to the maneuver and pretty soon we had the mattress lying on the ground. I put the sheets and comforter back on it and stood back to survey my work.
“It looks like a giant marshmallow.” Which wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.
“I have two questions,” he said.
I gave him an attentive look as I crawled onto the marshmallow bed.
“First, why did you do that?”
“Well, it didn’t appear too likely that you were going to climb your half-horse body onto that bed and be comfortable.” I looked him over carefully and added, “And you might have broken the dang thing if you’d tried. I want you to sleep with me, so I thought we’d be more comfortable down here together.”
“Oh.” He looked enlightened, and stepped gingerly onto the marshmallow with me.
“What’s the second question?” I asked as he folded his equine legs and lay down next to me.
“What is a marshmallow?”
I snuggled into his body while I answered him. “It’s kind of a dessert. It’s puffy and white and very sugary. They’re good toasted over an open fire.”
He pulled me against him, spoon style. The sides of our feather bed fluffed up around us. He smiled and kissed the side of my head. “It is certainly puffy.”
“That’s what I thought.” I ended the word on another big yawn.
“Relax, you need to sleep.”
I felt myself starting to relax, when a shudder ran through me and I jolted awake, remembering the mission that waited for me in my sleep.
“I don’t think I want to. I’m scared.”
“I will be here with your body, and Epona will be there with your spirit.” ClanFintan’s hand found the outside of my leg and he began a hypnotic caress that ran the length of my thigh, to the sensitive spot behind my knee and all the way up to the small of my back—and then repeated over and over again.
I felt my body relaxing and my eyelids fluttering.
“Don’t let go of me…” I whispered, and felt his arm tighten in response as sleep claimed me.
* * *
I was a guest at an exclusive spa getting a massage from…I looked over my shoulder…Batman (must be one of my “bad boy” dreams). The massage table was on a terrace, which overlooked a countryside that reminded me of the Lake District of England, except instead of shaggy English sheep, fat black-and-white cats grazed in meadows of mice grass.
Batman had just bent down to whisper in my ear that I had the most perfect ass in the world, when—
My body was sucked up through the ceiling and I found myself looking down on what had become a familiar view of Epona’s Temple. The night was clear but the moon wasn’t ful
ly risen yet, so the stars were really showing off by lighting up the sky with a brilliant display of priceless jewels. From overhead it was easy to see how crowded the temple and the surrounding grounds had become. Tents and campfires spotted the land. It was late, but I could make out the forms of centaurs and humans who were still awake, busy with uncompleted tasks.
My body floated in the soft breeze, which was blowing toward the river. The river, too, was alive with motion. Barges jockeyed for position, lanterns were lit and voices carried over the water. I watched the action below me as my body turned slowly north, then began to pick up speed. The sensation of traveling so quickly was the same as it had been the other two nights my spirit had been sucked from the comfort of DreamLand. It was like I had become a gust of wind that had been blown from the mouth of an irritable giant. The sensation was as unpleasant as the analogy made it sound, especially now that I had a pretty good idea of where I was heading.
I left the river’s side and veered to the west. Looking down, I saw a huge expanse of dark water passing swiftly by, obviously Loch Selkie. Much faster than should have been possible, I came to the northern bank of the Loch. I noticed a large stone structure a little way from the water’s edge. It sat silent and dark. I averted my eyes and sent a silent plea to Epona that she not take me there. I didn’t want to see what the creatures had left at Laragon Castle. It was probably cowardly of me, but I breathed a spiritual sigh of relief when my body didn’t slow or change direction toward the dead castle.
Far too soon I began to see lights ahead of me. I recognized the dark stone of Guardian Castle’s walls as I floated over them, and my body began to slow and descend.
“Please don’t make me stay here too long,” I whispered to the air around me.
Be brave, Beloved. The words flitted through my mind so quickly I couldn’t be sure that I hadn’t made them up myself. I drew a deep breath and tried to prepare myself for something awful.
My descent brought me over the middle of the same courtyard I had visited on my previous dream trip. Apparently, it was still being used as a campground for women, because I could see shabby tents reflecting the dim glow of flickering fires. Blanketed shapes huddled around the fires. I drifted closer and I could tell that the number of women had increased considerably. An unusual silence hung over the courtyard. Normally, this many women, even late at night, would be chattering and gossiping in friendly groups. This gathering was so silent I could hear the popping and crackling of the campfires. This time none of them seemed to notice my presence, and I did not pause over them. Instead, I felt myself moving off to the western wing of the castle. My body stopped when I reached the flat balustraded roof of a section of the castle that was lit brightly by many flaming torches.
