Twice Upon a Soul

by Deborah R Stigall

  Watching the departing sprite with wonder, Taylor inhaled deeply as she stared down into the cup. Looking up at Mattie, she shook her head; her mouth pulled to one side in a humorless grin. “What in the hell am I doing here, Mattie? What happened to our nice normal world?”

  “Down the tubes, dearie,” Mattie observed, biting into one of the steaming rolls.

  The dread of the approaching feast of that night lying in the pit of her stomach like a ball of lead, Taylor wrinkled her nose as she eyed the rolls Mattie pushed toward her. “No….I don’t think I’d better eat anything. All it will do is come right back up.”

  “Drink your tea then, or Zelda will have your hide.” Mattie nodded toward Taylor’s untouched cup.

  “Mattie…can I ask you something?” Taylor asked, raising the cup to her nose and sniffing.

  “What?” Mattie mumbled around another bite of roll as she wiped a drop of butter from her chin.

  “Well…it’s just that you seem to have adapted awfully well to this…this…” Taylor shrugged as she raised her hands into the air. “Altered universe…we’ve landed ourselves in.”

  Wiping her fingers and dabbing at her mouth with the cloth napkin from her lap, Mattie frowned down into her own cup of tea as she pondered Taylor’s words. “I don’t know exactly how to explain it, Taylor. But to me…it’s almost like I’ve finally reached the destination I’ve been searching for….for years.” Sipping cautiously at the scalding hot tea, she studied Taylor over the rim of her cup. “Are you that unhappy here? Has it really been that terrible?”

  “No…” Taylor shook her head slowly, searching for the right words in frustration. “No…I’m not unhappy. I’m just so damned confused!”

  “About this place? About Quinlan? What?—or is it all of the above?” Mattie returned her cup to the table, folding her hands to patiently await Taylor’s reply.

  “Yes!” Taylor snorted, sipping the pungent tea with a shiver of distaste. “Sometimes I seem to have passing moments of deja`vu or something….and Quinlan is…well, he’s…aaaah!” Taylor rose from the table to pace around the room, huffing like a caged animal.

  “He’s what?” Mattie prompted, grinning slightly behind her folded hands.

  Hugging her body tightly, Taylor stared at the floor as she shrugged her shoulders in defeat. “Nice..” she whispered, chewing her lip as she shrugged one shoulder in Mattie’s direction.

  “Nice?” Mattie repeated, propping her chin in her hands….waiting for Taylor to confess what she really meant.

  “You know what I mean.” Taylor glared at Mattie, as she stood in the center of the room.

  “Tell me,” Mattie urged, picking the crumbs from the bread tray and sprinkling them into her empty teacup.

  Eyes narrowing at her wheedling friend, Taylor’s cheeks flushed red as her mouth tightened into a firm line. “I think that…I might…maybe…be falling in love with him.”

  Smiling triumphantly, Mattie nodded as she clapped her hands together. “It’s about time you figured that out! I can’t believe it took you so long!”

  Twisting the braided rope hanging from the neck of her nightdress, Taylor returned to her chair at the table. “But now what do I do?”

  Leaning back in her chair, Mattie frowned at Taylor, folding her arms across her chest in disbelief. “What do you mean….now what do you do? You tell him…be the wife he says you are…and live happily ever after.”

  “But I can’t remember anything about how we were before…what if I’m….different to him now?” Taylor leaned forward stressing her words, as her hands tightened into fists.

  Shaking her head with a grin on her face, Mattie reached out to place her hands over her friend’s white-knuckled fists. “You do have it bad, girl…I can’t ever remember your being this insecure about Chandler.” Her face growing serious, Mattie patted Taylor’s hands. “It won’t matter to Quinlan if you’re…different. I’ve gotten to know him…by talking to him as well as through Magnus. All that matters to him is that you’re here. He’s willing to start from the beginning.”

  “I hope you’re right,” Taylor muttered, raising her head to a soft rap on the door. “Come in.”

  Zelda’s white head immediately appeared, her head bobbing as she nodded toward the hall. “Her water is ready. Her must come quickly…will take hours to prepare.”

  “Hours?” Taylor repeated, staring at Mattie, as she gathered her woolen shawl for the trip down the hallway.

  “In that case,” Mattie grinned, patting her own dark shining hair. “You’d better get going. I’ll see you downstairs once I’ve primped a bit myself. I just love Magnus’ eyes when I surprise him.”

  “Thanks for the talk,” Taylor whispered as she gave Mattie a quick hug. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

  “No problem! I love being advisor to the One…a very noteworthy position.” Her face growing serious, Mattie returned Taylor’s hug. “You know I’m always here for you.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Her hands fluttering nervously with the curls surrounding her face, Taylor turned from the mirror at the sound of a soft rapping on the door. “Come in.”

  Coming to a halt as he entered the room, Quinlan stood frozen, his hand still on the latch of the door. Swallowing hard, he stared at Taylor, barely breathing through his slightly parted lips.

  “Do I look all right?” Taylor asked, her hands nervously adjusting the folds of the gown.

  “Words canna do justice…to what I see…” Quinlan stammered as he stood in the doorway.

  The velvety green gown was such a rich deep hue; the shadows of the folds were nearly black. The plunging neckline revealed the creamy fullness of Taylor’s breasts; temptingly displayed courtesy of Zelda’s silky bustier. The tight fitting sleeves, the dropped waist of the skirt accented Taylor’s slender waist. The color brought out the deep green of her eyes; wide with anxiety over her pinkened cheeks. Zelda had gathered her long blonde hair into a high crown of curls at the top of her head; cascading the tendrils down the back of her neck like a golden waterfall.

  “You look nice too,” Taylor commented shyly, as she slowly walked across the room. His white silk shirt tucked into his snug black leather breeches; his ancient claymore belted to his side, Quinlan reminded Taylor of the oil painting of his image she’d left at the Regent Oaks Museum. His crimson cloak was pinned to his shoulder; a bronze crest shaped the same as the rune Taylor had seen carved into the altar stone. His golden skin, his jet-black hair, the broadness of his shoulders, Taylor’s breath caught in her throat as she eyed him from across the room.

  His cheeks reddening in slight embarrassment at her compliment, Quinlan shook his head as he closed the bedroom door. “All eyes will be on ye tonight, m’love….ye look absolutely breathtaking.”

  “Thank you,” Taylor murmured crossing the room, to wipe the frost away from the window. “Is everyone here…is it time to go?” Placing her hands to her chest, she exhaled slowly through her mouth. She’d be so glad when tonight was over…when the danger Quinlan had warned her about was finally no longer there.

  “Soon,” Quinlan replied; walking over to the small table to place a wooden box he’d retrieved from the hallway. “But I wanted to check on ye…to make sure ye’re all right…and to give ye this gift.”

  Running her hand across the dark wood of the box, Taylor smiled at the velvety smoothness. The rich grains of the wood running the length of the lid, the burls and knots seemed to swirl into the shape of hearts. “It’s beautiful,” she breathed, looking up into his eyes as she placed both hands upon the lid.

  “Open it,” he urged, his eyes sparkling with the excitement of pleasing Taylor with the special gift.

  Gently pulling open the lid, Taylor gasped in surprise as she discovered the contents of the box. Deftly fit inside carefully carved out notches were several stone jars with tightly fitting lids. Removing the lid from one of the jars, Taylor discovered a deep blue paste. Glancing up excitedly int
o Quinlan’s face, Taylor quickly removed more of the lids, discovering all the many colors Quinlan had painstakingly ground into oil paints. The lid of the box held strips of leather, carefully nailed into place at narrow intervals. Tightly fitted into the loops of leather, were various sizes of the homemade brushes.

  “I thought ye might to like to return to painting. Ye seemed to enjoy it so…while I watched ye over the years.” Quinlan watched Taylor’s face closely, hopeful that she’d like what she’d found.

  “Oh Quinlan…these are perfect. I love the shades…but how did you come to get them?” Taylor touched the carved handles of the brushes reverently, admiring the perfection with which they’d been shaped.

  “I made them,” Quinlan replied quietly. “Do ye think they’ll do all right?”

  “You made them?” Taylor repeated in amazement, returning one of the brushes to it’s slot. “That’s amazing…it must have taken you…is this what you’ve been up to these past couple of days.”

  Nodding proudly, Quinlan ran his hand across the lid of the box, pleased that she liked his gift. “I wanted to be able to give them to ye this night. I knew ye were dreading it…after I told ye of the dangers we might be facing. I’m glad ye’re happy with them. I wasna’ too sure about all the colors.”

  Replacing the lid on the box, Taylor quickly rounded the table, hugging Quinlan tightly. “They’re wonderful…thank you for making them for me!”

  Wrapping his arms tightly around her body, Quinlan closed his eyes blissfully as he held her close. “I’m verra glad ye found them worthy…I’d do anything to make ye happy.”

  “I’m afraid…about tonight,” Taylor whispered quietly, tightening her arms around Quinlan’s neck.

  Brushing his lips against the silkiness of her throat, Quinlan murmured softly, “I’ll keep ye safe…I swear to it.”

  Reluctantly loosening his arms about her, Quinlan stared seriously down into her face. “I must go down now and receive the guests…tradition dictates I welcome them to the hall. Zelda will come for ye once all have arrived and are seated…so that I might present ye to one and all.” Tenderly brushing the side of her cheek with one finger, Quinlan spoke quietly, a note of warning to his voice. “Ye must open the door for no other then Zelda…promise me ye will remember.”

  Solemnly nodding, her green eyes nearly black with the fear of what could lie ahead. Taylor snuggled deeper into Quinlan’s embrace, unwilling to let him go. “Is it always going to be this way?” she whispered against his chest.

  Softly stroking the curls tumbling down her back, Quinlan sighed as he shook his head. “If we can convince the nobles that ye remember being m’wife…and have returned to fulfill that role, then ye’ll be safe…we will be accepted…and able to live here in peace.” His arms tightening slightly, Quinlan’s voice caught in his throat as he whispered, “I’m verra sorry to ask ye to lie.”

  Inhaling deeply, Taylor made up her mind as she pulled away to stare up into Quinlan’s eyes. “I don’t remember being your wife…or anything that happened before….but I think I’d like to…t-try and s-start over….because I th-think I love you.”

  Gathering her so tightly against his chest he nearly crushed her in his embrace, Quinlan whispered hoarsely in her ear. “Ye canna know how long I’ve waited for ye to say those words.”

  “’Tis time lad,” Magnus interrupted, knocking on the door, his timing as impeccable as ever.

  With a groan of regret, Quinlan gradually loosened his hold on Taylor…inhaling deeply for a few more hours of self-control. Gently kissing Taylor on the forehead, he held her chin as he smiled down into her eyes. “I love ye, my own….now keep safe…whilst I go to make friends of my enemies.”

  Pressing her hands to both her cheeks, Taylor nodded silently as she watched him walk out the door.

  ~*~

  The hall was already milling with guests, noble sprites that had traveled from far across the land. All were curious to see the One of the legend…as well as find out if she had truly taken the mortal as her mate. All the torches were brightly lit, a fire roaring in the great hearth across the room. Freshly dried rushes had been spread upon the floor, the surrounding tables bedecked with goblets awaiting the wine from the sparkling decanters.

  Standing at the base of the stairs, Magnus, Mattie and Quinlan nodded politely as the nobles slowly filed through the door. Mattie was surprised to see several human looking women, accompanying many of the noble males. Leaning to whisper in Magnus’ ear, Mattie nodded toward a rather portly brunette. “She looks like she’s a human…or from earth…or...well, you know what I mean!”

  Nodding and smiling at the chubby temptress, giggling as she held to her noble’s pale green arm, Magnus whispered out of the side of his mouth in response to Mattie’s question. “She was from your time…once…long ago. But she was coaxed away…tempted by a gift…longevity of life perhaps. Ye’ll also find the wee lassie’s a witch…or she’d ne’er been able to cross through the gateway.”

  “A witch?” Mattie widened her eyes in interest, watching the bubbling woman with more respect. “So…is everyone that seems human here…somehow enchanted…or gifted?”

  Pursing his lips as he nodded, Magnus scratched his red beard, grinning as he replied. “Everyone except Quinlan and m’self…and ye’re fully aware of what we are. Ye are e’en a gifted woman yourself, love…or the Furies wouldha’ ne’er allowed ye to come wi’ me.”

  “There’s Elwin,” Quinlan interrupted, glowering as he stared at the unusually muscular sprite standing in the door.

  “I wondered if the evil bastard would show up,” Magnus retorted, his eyes narrowing with distrust.

  “Elwin?” Mattie asked with interest, tiptoeing to better see.

  Quinlan nodded silently toward the sprite just entering the door, his jaw tightening in hatred as he glared at his approaching guest.

  Elwin the Dark, as he was known to the sprites of the valley, was noble ruler over one of the larger clans inhabiting the surrounding lands. His name was only partially derived from the shaggy mane of black hair tumbling down his back; his personality also earning the title, his antagonistic nature known throughout the clans. His skin was a lighter shade of green then Zelda’s; nearly pale enough to pass him as a human. But one look at the pointed ears and feathery brows left no doubt that Elwin was a high born sprite.

  “Laird Quinlan,” Elwin nodded curtly, a sneering smile revealing his sharply pointed teeth. His eyes flitting past Magnus, to pause on Mattie, his feathery brows raised in question. “And where is the Enchanted One…the possessor of the gifts…your supposed wife.” Several other noblemen gathered closer to the trio, as they waited for Quinlan’s reply. Elwin might be impossible to get along with…but he always came straight to the point.

  “My wife,” Quinlan replied smoothly, stressing the word for all to hear. “Is waiting until all the guests have been seated. Then she will take her place at my side.”

  Staring at Mattie with thinly veiled lust, Elwin took her slender hand within his. Pressing his cold lips against the back of her hand, he barely touched his tongue to her skin. Smiling up into her startled eyes, his gaze smoothly shifted to Magnus. “And who might this lovely morsel be…another enchanted lovely, perhaps?”

  Straightening his shoulders as he took a step forward, Magnus took Mattie’s hand from Elwin’s grasp. “This…Noble Elwin, is Mattie…my companion throughout all time.”

  Eyes widening in immediate understanding, Elwin shook his head in disappointment. “Pity…she’s too lovely t’be wasted upon a whisp of a ghost.” Placing his face uncomfortably close to Mattie’s, he whispered maliciously loud enough for all to hear. “When ye find yourself tired of the empty touch of a spirit…come see me, lass. I’ll fill ye well.”

  “Why y-you,” Mattie started to sputter, raising her hand to strike Elwin full in the face.

  “Ignore the bastard, lass,” Magnus quickly whispered, catching her raised hand to press it to his lips. “
He feeds on the reactions of others to his vile mouth. Dinna give him the pleasure.”

  Pouting, Elwin bowed his head toward Magnus his eyes narrowing with disappointment. “A pity…ye know me too well, friend spirit.” Nodding to Mattie as he moved toward his seat, he purposely slowly licked his lips. “I’ll talk to ye later m’dear…and look forward to knowing ye better.”

  “Give me your damn sword,” muttered Mattie under her breath, as she glared in hatred at Elwin’s retreating back.

  “Now…Mattie,” Quinlan patiently soothed. “I canna have ye killing m’guests.” Leaning closer so that only she could hear, he added, “And if anyone is to get the pleasure of killing Elwin the Dark…I’m selfish enough to ensure that it is me.”

  At that moment a stout rather bow-legged sprite, slowly made his way to the front of the line. “Laird Quinlan…ignore Elwin. He’s but an insolent fool, too immature to bear his title.”

  Bowing his head respectfully, Quinlan held out his hand, greeting the gray-haired sprite with a smile. “Segrid the Wise. Welcome to my home. I’m honored that ye would travel from your mountain.”

  “The One of the legend…the enchantress is here. Segrid wouldna’ miss such an event.” Nodding pleasantly, he gently shook Mattie’s hand, courteously touching it to his forehead. “The One’s greatest friend…’tis an honor to meet ye. Segrid is aware ye are gifted as well.”

  “Why…thank you,” Mattie murmured, watching Segrid with distrust after her recent experience with Elwin. “How did you know that I’m Taylor’s friend? I really wasn’t aware word had traveled that fast.”