Copper Veins

by Jennifer Allis Provost

  “Um, what are we talking about?” I fixed my gaze on Micah. “General?”

  “I once led the Gold Queen’s army, as did my father before me,” Micah replied. “When my mother took ill, I relinquished my title.”

  “That doesn’t sound like abandonment,” I murmured.

  “Call it what you will, the lack of a proper general aided Ferra’s cause,” Oriana stated. “I needed you, Micah. I needed you when she rose against me, and you were nowhere to be found.”

  “I was burying my mother,” Micah hissed.

  “Yes, yes, my lamb,” Oriana said, patting Micah’s head. “But that is in the past. I am most concerned with the future. Tell me, what of the Inheritor? What are her plans?”

  I resisted the urge to tell her that Sadie’s only plan was to install a vast library complete with Art Deco lamps and reading nooks. “The Inheritor has no designs upon your throne,” Micah stated. “Of that, I am certain.”

  “We will bring her here to pledge her loyalty to you,” I blurted out. Man, I was good at speaking out of turn. “Tell us when, my lady, and we will rectify this mistake.”

  Again, Oriana cocked her head to the side—she hadn’t expected that. “You will?”

  “We will,” Micah proclaimed, lacing his fingers with mine. “We of the Silverstrand house will prove our loyalty beyond a shadow of doubt. On this, you have my word.”

  Oriana nodded and gestured dismissively. Then she wandered up the steps of her dais and behind her throne, disappearing through a curtained exit. At least, I assumed there was a door behind the curtain—for all I knew she was standing among dust bunnies, hiding against a wall. Once again, Micah and I let ourselves out of the Golden Court. He was quiet as we navigated the golden hallways, but then, Oriana had given him much to think about.

  “Hey,” I whispered, but Micah shook his head. Understanding, I wrapped my arm around his waist and we traversed the halls in silence. Once outside the court, Micah continued to lead me in a straight line, ignoring the metal pathways as he walked farther and farther from the Gold Court and into the surrounding wood. When we could no longer see its sunny glow behind us, he fell to his knees.

  “You really didn’t know?” I asked, taking him into my arms. My words opened the floodgates—his shoulders shook as I held him. As my father had oh-so-graciously pointed out, Micah had only been a part of my life for a few short months, but we’d been through an awful lot in that time. No matter the situation though, not once had I ever seen him break down in tears. I mean, I cry at the drop of a hat, but not Micah. He had always been so strong, almost invincible.

  Then again, he’d just been told the identity of his mother’s killer, but too late to do anything with the information. That information could break any man. So I held him, stroking his back and whispering in his ear, the same tactics Micah had used time and again to calm me. In time, he straightened his back and wiped his eyes, then wrapped his arms around me and dragged me onto the forest floor with him.

  “No,” he said, his voice hoarse, the leaves rustling beneath us, “I had no idea. And now, there is nothing I can do about it.”

  “You killed him,” I murmured, my lips against his neck. “He was an evil, evil man, but thanks to you, he won’t hurt anyone else, not ever again.”

  “Had I known, I could have demanded his lands, made his heirs destitute. I could have made him wish for death.” Micah blew out a huge breath and tightened his arms around me. “And none of it would have brought her back.”

  “I’m so sorry,” I murmured. Lame, I know, but it’s what’s said. “Did…do you look like her?” I asked, weaving my fingers through his hair.

  “Somewhat,” he replied. “She was of silver, like my father.”

  “Selene is a beautiful name,” I said, because it was. “What was your father called?”

  “Argyris.”

  “And your mother started out as his consort?”

  “Actually, he was hers. She was of the royal Silverstrand house, not he.”

  “Was it unusual for a general to be a consort?”

  “It was.” Micah rolled me onto my back, and I could finally see his reddened face. It made me want to bawl seeing him in such pain. “I’ve told you very little of my life, haven’t I?”

  “It’s all right,” I murmured, touching my fingertips beneath his swollen eyelids. “There’s lots about me you don’t know.”

  That got a smile. “Is there? What, pray tell, is there for me to learn about my wife?”

  “Well there’s the time I won the eighth grade science fair,” I replied. “My project was magnetism.”

  “Project?” he asked. “I thought you hadn’t used your ability before you met me.”

  “Projects are just diagrams and things,” I explained. I’d forgotten that Micah had never been to middle school. Or any other school, for that matter. “I just talked about magnetism. I didn’t demonstrate it.”

  “It must have been an excellent speech.”

  “I got a trophy.”

  “Was it made of copper?”

  “Nah. Plastic.” We laughed at that, then he rolled us onto our sides and we rested in each other’s arms for a moment. “I think I know where I’d like to put some copper. At the manor, I mean.”

  “Do you?” Micah smoothed the hair back from my brow. “Tell me.”

  “Around the base of your mother’s statue.” Suddenly unsure, I dropped my gaze. “I mean, she sounds like such a wonderful person. Since I can’t meet her, I’d like to honor her.” I picked at Micah’s collar. “Without her, I wouldn’t have you.”

  Micah didn’t say anything for a moment, and I worried that I’d offended him. I knew we’d only been married for one day, but when would we reach a point when I could speak my mind?

  “That, my love, is a perfect idea,” Micah said. “My mother would have loved you.”

  I couldn’t help it—I was so relieved that I laughed. “She would have? Makes sense, since my mom loves you.”

  “Then perhaps she’ll stop injuring the silverkin,” Micah said dryly. We laughed some more, wonderful, hearty laughter. I know that Micah had only wept in front of me because he loved and trusted me, but I hoped to never see him so despondent again.

  “She said she would. She’s been good lately.” I dared to kiss him then, and didn’t protest when he took it a bit further. “Can we go home now?”

  “Yes, love.” Micah kissed me once more, then he stood and helped me to my feet. “I desperately want to be home with you.”

  5

  We walked all the way back to the manor instead of traveling by the faster metal pathways. While he didn’t say as much, I understood that Micah wanted the extra time to clear his head, and I was content to while away the rest of the morning with him.

  “I’m still a bit…grumpy about being cheated out of our wedding night,” I muttered as we walked.

  “Grumpy?” Micah repeated. We’d stopped beside a stream to relax and splash some cool water on our faces. “That is not quite the word I would have chosen.”

  “Really?” I’d found a stubby branch, and was doodling in the mud while I sat on a rock, my back to the water. “And what word would you choose, General Silverstrand?”

  “Hush. I have not filled that role for a long, long time.” He leaned over and nuzzled the soft spot behind my ear. “Lonely. Bereft. Frustrated. Unmarried.”

  Unmarried? “Micah, it’s only been one night.”

  “Yes, but until our marriage is consummated, we are not as one. The officiant said as much during our ritual.”

  I recalled the actual words of the ceremony—at the time, I’d been too elated to dissect their meaning, but Corporal Rawson had said, “And once you know her as your wife, you are forever joined as one.” I hadn’t realized that that was what they meant, but I suppose it made sense. At least it was an easier requirement than babies.

  “Are all marriages like that?” I asked.

  I felt Micah’s mouth curl into a
smile. “I don’t know. I have only been married once.” He nipped at my ear and added, “As for this marriage, I know that I must lie with you to seal our vows.”

  “Well,” I murmured, stretching my neck for more kisses, “I guess we’d better get on that.”

  “I agree.” Micah leaned forward to kiss me on the mouth, but he halted when he saw the result of my mud doodles. I had stabbed and slashed at the ground until it looked like a rabid buffalo had churned up the soil. “Sara, what is troubling you?”

  Normally, I would have denied any troubles in favor of more kissing, but that’s pretty hard to do when the evidence is right in front of you. “Do… do you think it’s weird that Dad just showed up? I mean, we’ve been looking for him forever, and he just walks right up to the front door?”

  Micah pursed his lips, taking a deep breath before he replied. “Weird? Perhaps. However, your father’s return is an unprecedented turn of good fortune. And on our wedding day, no less.”

  “I love it when you say that.”

  “What?”

  “‘Our wedding day.’”

  Micah took the stick from me and pulled me to my feet. “Soon, I will be telling you about our wedding night.” He tossed the stick into the stream and tugged me back toward the road and the manor. “Come, my love, my wife, and let me bring you home.”

  We would have gotten home an awful lot faster if we hadn’t stopped at every comfy patch of grass and inviting tree stump on the way, but it was all for the greater good. I mean, we couldn’t let this unconsummated state go on much longer. Mind you, we could have taken care of that little technicality at any of our stopping places, but Micah was adamant that he wanted everything to be perfect for our first night as husband and wife.

  I was his wife.

  So I enjoyed his kisses and caresses and counted the seconds until his vision of perfection became a reality. When we finally crossed over the manor’s threshold, I wanted to run up the stairs to our bedroom. Instead, I found my father and brother waiting for me in the atrium, arms crossed and toes tapping.

  “Sara,” Dad greeted, “I’m glad you’re back. I want to take a walk with you. I’ll return her shortly,” he added with a nod toward Micah.

  “Right now?” I asked, my eyes sliding toward Micah. “We can’t do this, um, tomorrow?”

  “Today is better,” Dad insisted. “Max will be coming with us. There are things I need to discuss with the two of you.”

  “And not Sadie?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

  “Not yet,” Dad replied, shaking his head.

  I chewed my lower lip, trying to form the words to explain to my father that what I really needed was about twelve uninterrupted hours with Micah. After that, I was free for whatever parental advice he wanted to bestow.

  “Go with your father,” Micah murmured in my ear. Amazed, I turned and stared at him. “It will be good for you to spend time with him. And it will give me the opportunity to prepare for our night together.”

  “Prepare?” That simple word conjured up a variety of images, all of them delectable. “Can you have the silverkin make me some ice cream? Sadie can give them all the details. And probably a cookbook.”

  “I will request iced creams for you,” Micah promised solemnly. “Is there anything else my wife desires?”

  “A few things,” I murmured. Max snorted something rude, but I ignored him as I stood on my toes and kissed Micah goodbye. “I’ll miss you.”

  “And I, you,” Micah murmured.

  “Oh, come on,” Max grumbled. I glared at my brother, then I kissed Micah goodbye once more, for luck. With that, I followed Max and Dad out of the manor.

  “Where are we headed?” I asked as we walked toward the apple orchard.

  “Oh, I thought we’d visit the house,” Dad said nonchalantly.

  “The Raven Compound?” Max and I said in unison. Max continued, “You do realize that the house is being watched by armed guards ordered to kill us on sight?”

  “It will not be monitored for the next sixty-seven minutes,” Dad said after consulting his wristwatch. We reached the edge of the orchard, and Dad pulled out what looked like a cosmetic mirror from inside his sleeve. One of Dad’s signature moves was that he never went anywhere without a steady supply of portals—I still remembered him toiling away in the old basement, conjuring up the shiny discs. Most Elementals didn’t bother creating their own portals, opting to purchase them from learned magicians instead. However, Dad had once had a bad incident with a portal that had come with a tracking spell. From that day forward, it was homemade or bust.

  Perhaps the most amazing aspect of these homemade portals was how simple they were to make. Really, one only needed a roundish piece of a shiny material—glass worked best, being that it was an amorphous solid and therefore a bit more malleable, but anything shiny would do—the careful application of herbs and oil, and a quick dip in a furnace while an incantation was muttered over the flames. I could never remember the correct order of the words when Dad first taught them to me, but then I hadn’t needed portals when I was seven. Then the war happened, and portals were the last thing on my mind.

  “My contacts tell me that the guards are changing today,” Dad continued. “By now, the prior company will have cleared out, and the new guards won’t be in place for over an hour.”

  “That’s sloppy,” Max said. “Peacekeepers are better than that.”

  “Peacekeepers are being stretched thin,” Dad corrected. “Finally, all this guerilla warfare is going somewhere.”

  There was a bitter edge to Dad’s voice, but I would be the last person to call him out on it. The years since the magic wars ended had been tough on all of us, and if anyone deserved to express a little bitterness, it was Dad.

  Dad balanced the portal in the air, and the reflective surface stretched and lengthened until it was about the size of a closet door. Dad beckoned Max through, then looked expectantly at me. I grabbed my father’s hand, and we stepped out of the Otherworld into the Mundane realm, right into the backyard of the Raven Compound.

  Which was buzzing with drones.

  “Cover,” Max said, pulling us into the protective shadow of a tree. The fairy tree, I noticed a moment later. “So much for no military coverage.”

  “It’s pretty light,” I said, peeking through the branches. “I only see three—no, wait, four drones and no human guards.”

  Dad was silent, but I felt his eyes on me—after a moment I glanced over my shoulder, and saw him scrutinizing my left wrist. More specifically, the silver mark that coiled around it like a ribbon. Self-consciously, I dropped my hand and rubbed the silver.

  “How did that happen?” Dad asked. “Did Micah do that to you?”

  “No.” Could an Elemental even mark another like that? I made a mental note to ask Micah. “Micah used all the silver in his body to protect me, and he had to be covered in his metal in order to heal. I stayed with him, and I ended up with this.” I stroked it for a moment, my bit of Micah that was always with me. “Micah has a copper mark on his wrist.”

  “He must have made quite an impression on you for you to marry him so quickly,” Dad commented. “The Lord of Silver must have made all your other suitors look like bumbling children.”

  “Other suitors?” Max said with a snort. “Sara married the first boy she kissed!”

  “As if you’ve ever had a first anything,” I sneered. “Date much at the Institute?”

  “Children,” Dad said. He made an admirable attempt at parental disapproval, though it had little effect on Max and me. I mean, we’d grown up with Mom. Our bickering silenced, he glanced toward the Raven Compound. “The drones are gone. Let’s go.”

  “Uh, what exactly are we looking for?” I asked.

  “The old basement,” he said.

  “Oh, it’s not here,” I said. Dad stared at me, dumbfounded. “Mom and Sadie activated the wards, and pushed it into the Otherworld.”

  “The Otherworld?” Dad repeated, and
Max and I nodded. “Where is it in the Otherworld?”

  “The Raven will tell you how to get there,” I said. “All that’s left in the house is some dusty old furniture. The Peacekeepers scrubbed it pretty well after Max was arrested.”

  Dad was a bit deflated, since the purpose behind this excursion wasn’t even here. Although it was horrible, I was glad this little venture was a flop. I really, really wanted to go home to Micah.

  Dad withdrew another portal and balanced it in the air. Max hopped through, but before I could follow, Dad touched my elbow.

  “This Micah,” he began, “you’re happy with him? He hasn’t… coerced you into marrying him?”

  “Micah would never do that,” I snapped. Dad winced, and I tamped down my anger. After all, Dad was only looking out for me, and it wasn’t like he knew anything about Micah beyond that he was married to his daughter. “He wouldn’t. Micah is a good man, Dad. I’d really like it if you got to know him.”

  “I just want my girl happy,” Dad said, his green eyes shining. I smiled, then stepped through the portal to the Otherworld. I could just see Silverstrand Manor above the treetops, and I knew my husband waited for me within. I tried to think about only him, and push all the lingering doubts about Dad to the back of my mind.

  6

  Dad, Max, and I entered the manor through one of the rear doors, specifically the one that led to the kitchens. As I stepped inside, I saw the most wonderful sight—the silverkin were clustered around several old-fashioned ice cream churns. The worktable was hardly visible under all the ingredients, which ranged from bottles of milk to blocks of chocolate to fruit from our own orchards.

  “They’ve been at it since you left,” Sadie said. Just as I had predicted, she clutched a dessert-themed cookbook to her chest and was overseeing this little production. “Micah made it very clear to them that the ice cream needs to be perfect, or that Mrs. Silverstrand will be most unhappy.”