“But, Rafe—” she gestured to a big blue shield beside him that appeared enameled, with starbursts flaring and fading “—where did you get that?”
He stared at it, recalled that it had appeared on his arm and saved him from a face-crunching kick. Automatically his hand reached for it, stroked it. “It’s not mine.”
“Of course it is.” She thumped his chest lightly with her hand as if for emphasis. “It’s listed as a power in your profile.” She frowned. “You should check your profile yourself, it shows you more than it does me.”
Since he was feeling pretty damn good and liked holding her, he closed his eyelids. A couple of seconds later his profile swam before his eyes. Fancy red lettering scrolled at the top: Latest accomplishment, complete manifestation of the Cosmos Shield. His eyes popped wide and energy coursed through him.
“Manifested,” he said, and again he was panting as if he’d run a long race. “I manifested it. Shit.”
She slanted him a look. “That’s the first I’ve heard you curse.”
“Yeah, yeah, old idiosyncrasy, not cussing. Don’t want to send or receive any more curses.”
She raised her brows. He didn’t want to talk about that minor thing. Again he stroked the shield, then he fisted his hand and whacked it hard. “It’s real.” He paused. “Or as real as anything else in the game.”
“And it looks like a companion for the dagger?”
“Yeah.” He frowned. “Did I have the dagger?” His long sabre was sheathed on his hip. He shook his head as he stared at the beautiful disk. More beautiful than ever because it had saved them. “I don’t know how I manifested it.”
“Think back to the fight.”
“Think! Who was thinking?”
“Maybe that’s a clue. Not thinking, feeling.”
He made a disgusted noise.
“Well, you have been ‘feeling’ energies when you are dowsing. I’m sure you feel other things, like how much to angle your board or skis or sails or whatever, whether the snow or water or wind is good or bad.” She waved a hand. “You know.”
The hell of it was, he thought he did.
A group of other people showed up on the opposite side of the dome and began some lame role-playing. “Let’s get out of here.”
Light faded into dimness, there came the snores and whuffles of puppies. And he was leaning along the back of the couch on his side, with Amber in his arms.
His Amber. Not some fake silvery being.
She smelled right, and she felt incredible.
His body hardened.
He stared into her beautiful amber-colored eyes, set in her tanned face and framed by her streaked brown hair. Beautiful. Desirable. “Okay,” he said, loving her softness pressed to him, how she fit him. He wanted to rip her clothes off and plunge into her.
“Okay?” she whispered.
“You haven’t been ready. Time to make up your mind, Amber. Yes or no?” He ached like he hadn’t ached for a woman since high school. They’d come all too easily. Not Amber, and she mattered a whole lot more than any woman had for a long time. He hadn’t allowed himself relationships.
The scent of her dizzied him, her magic as much as anything else. Her magic was honey and floral and old, rich, crumbling amber. “Amber,” he groaned, arching against her.
Her eyes widened, pupils dark and dilated and showing her desire.
She could see only Rafe, feel only Rafe, and he looked and felt so good. Real. So many things were strange but real in her life now.
He was lying in just the right spot to stimulate her, but there was longing in his eyes, a longing that she believed meant this would be more than just sex for him. “Yes,” she said, and put her hands on the back of his neck, stroked him. He shuddered. She brought his mouth to his, tasted beer and excitement, recalled how he looked in Fairies and Dragons, as if his true warrior nature was revealed. Was that how Pavan saw him?
“Must be doing something wrong if you’re thinking,” he said. He smiled and she caught the warning of it too late as his fingers went to the neckline of her shirt and ripped downward. She gasped and felt his hands on her breasts and arched and shifted until he rose and she scooted under him, wrapped her legs around him and grabbed his shirt and pulled him down.
Like his, her hands explored and yanked and freed, and soon enough they were flesh-to-flesh and traveling to the heat and light of ecstasy together and shattering into fireworks of pleasure.
They lay panting together. His head was in the curve of her shoulder and she was stroking his hair, something she hadn’t been aware of until she took stock.
“God, that was good,” he said thickly. Then his arms clamped her tighter to him. “Is. Is good.”
She wet her lips. “After can be good.”
He lifted his head and brushed a kiss on her lips. His face was flushed. Standing and arranging his clothing, he said, “Yeah. What say we take this to the bedroom?”
“Again, I say ‘yes.’ Your room, since the dogs will head for my bed.”
“That’s real good. Remember that word—yes.” He took a step and tripped, fell with little grace.
“Wha—? My God.” Instead of rising he rolled to his butt and stared.
Amber stood and arranged the remnants of her clothes. Then looked at what he’d tripped over. She lost her breath. “It’s the shield,” she croaked. The three-foot crystalline structure was dark enough to blend into the shadows, but the golden suns and galaxies still moved just under its surface.
“Yeah.” He stared at it. The last log on the fire collapsed and he flinched. He touched the shield, then stood and lifted it. “No heavier than a Frisbee.” He flicked a fingernail against it and the tone rang sweetly. “Not sure what it is, but it stopped the kick of a giant linebacker greenspur.”
“It’s magic,” Amber said. His attention had switched from her to the shield. She shouldn’t be irritated at that, should she? Whether or not she should have been, she was.
“I manifested the shield. Good to hold, like it belongs to me, like I could do anything I wanted with it. Let’s see....” He flipped it, his hands blurred and then the large disk spun on his finger. “Did stuff like this in college.”
“Very impressive,” Amber said.
He winked.
Another pop came from the fire. This time a flame flew out. Amber yelped and tried to catch it before it lodged in the rug or the couch.
The dogs woke and surged to their paws, barking. They raced around, circling the flame that had resolved into a small flickering being about five inches high. Orange and red, it stayed just out of the dogs’ leaping reach.
“Settle down or you go to your crates!” Amber ordered.
The pups looked at Amber. The firesprite hopped up to one of the fat candles on the mantel, lit it and stood on the wick, close enough to leave a smoky mark on the marble backboard.
A few more short barks came as the dogs looked for the little fire being and sniffed the round rug, then sat and stared at the now-lit candle.
The firesprite flickered in a taunting way. Though it had no obvious sex, Amber got the impression that it was female.
“I am Sizzitt of the Csynder clan. I heard a sstory from kin about your vissit to Eight Corp and your offer. My name iss tainted. I will guard your body.” She angled long like a flame toward Rafe, then snapped back to the candle wick. “For payment, I will take one of thosse large chocolate barss a day they ssay you gave the sstupid dwarfem. What elsse can you give me? I musst have good pay to attract a mate and make a sspark. Alsso, I do not asssocsiate with browniess. They bore me.”
Tiro appeared, smelling like a distillery. He was smiling and that was scary. His feet seemed to dig into the floor and the rest of him swayed. “And you are too flighty for me.” He wiggled a four-jointed hand. “Remember that I’m bigger than you. I can put you out.”
A crackle of anger came from the firesprite. “And I can burn your preciouss thingss.”
“Not in this hous
e!” Amber said. “Or you can take your fiery self right up the chimney.”
Rafe walked over and stood next to Amber. “Any damage to the house will be deducted from your pay.”
Sizzitt sat down on the top of a candle, melting runnels of wax as they ran down and overflowed the candlestick.
“Starting with that—” He nodded to the wax.
“Oh, I don’t think—” Amber said.
“Amber, you’ll have to replace the candle and it will take some time to clean up the wax.”
The firesprite flamed blue and there was a high whistle and the wax on the mantel separated itself from the wood and flowed back up to become part of the candle. Sizzitt smiled. Like a djinn, her mouth stretched wider than a human’s. Her teeth were pointed flames. Impressive.
“Hey, Tiro.” Rafe actually touched the brownie’s shoulder with a couple of fingers. “Guess what.” There was a rush, then the shield flew toward them and hung vertically before Tiro, spinning slightly.
Rafe did that? Did magic! Amber guessed that he was getting the hang of manifesting an object.
Tiro belched, then nodded slowly and touched it with his index finger. The disk itself stopped spinning, but the starbursts still wheeled.
The brownie nodded so slowly that his chin rested on his chest, then lifted. “You manifested the Cosmos Shield. Good.” He looked blearily up at Rafe, still gently weaving. “If you survive the fight with Bilachoe, I will live with you. Talked a lot with the Irish brownies, sensible chaps. It is not good for brownies to live alone and not with humans.” He burped again. Then his gaze switched to Amber. “I will miss you, but I will be nicer now. One can love a short-lived being and let it go.”
That was so hopeful to hear. Not.
Tiro wrapped an arm around Rafe’s leg and had Rafe’s brows shooting up. “We will care for the dogs for you, Amber.”
Her throat closed. Fear surged back and she squelched it. “Thank you. A fun time with the Irish brownies, then.”
Again a slow nod. “Yup. They are good company and have good advice.” He looked up at the firesprite. “Not like firesprites.”
“What of Hartha and Pred?” Amber asked.
“They are dull.”
“Boring brownies,” Sizzitt said. There was a high hissing crackle that Amber thought was fire-laughter. Sizzitt danced on the wick. “And your clothes ssmell like liquor and would burn sso nicely!” She looked at Rafe. “I will guard you.”
Tiro smiled back at her. “He has been attacked by shadleeches.”
The firesprite sputtered wildly in yellow and orange, losing her humanoid form.
“You can still back out,” Rafe said.
Amber headed to the kitchen and returned with her largest fondue pot. She held it up to the firesprite. If Sizzitt couldn’t swim in it, she could sure dunk. “As well as the daily chocolate bars, you get melted chocolate in this once…” What would be good? As usual, she made a generous offer. “Once a week.”
Sizzitt went long and bright, then compacted into a molten red ball. “Yess. Yess. Yess. Need to mate and sspark.”
“Don’ come in m’room,” Tiro said, unwound himself from Rafe and popped away.
“My stove is gas and has pilot lights for the burners and oven…” Amber said.
“I will sstay there.” Sizzitt left the candle to hover near Rafe’s shoulder. The smell of crisping hair came. “Needed to tasste you.” Then the firesprite streaked like lightning toward the kitchen.
Amber and Rafe were left alone in the living room where the fire had died and the only light came from a small lamp. The Cosmos Shield glittered.
Reaching out, she curved her hand over the rim, felt the weight of it as the magic that had been holding it in midair faded. Rafe was right, it wasn’t heavy at all. “It’s warm and…strong.”
“Yeah.”
She drew in a deep breath and let it out. “You did it. You really manifested it. If you got the shield, you should be able to find the knife.”
He jerked straight, and his expression sharpened. “Wait. Wait. I did. I had the knife.” His right hand flexed. “I had it for a minute in the game.”
Then he widened his stance, settled into his balance, still frowning. Amber thought he was using the magical ability he’d developed to sense the energy of the knife.
His eyes lit, his whole face radiated a simple and heartfelt joy. “I brought it with me from the game, too.” He blinked. “It’s here in Denver.” She only saw the gleam of his eyes before he grabbed her and twirled her around. “It’s here! I don’t know where it was before, but it’s here!”
“Where?”
He set her on her feet. “Don’t know. Somewhere.” Keeping one arm around her waist he rubbed his face with his free hand. Amber heard the slight rasp of bristles. Rafe shook his head. “Can’t get it tonight. But I’ll trace it if I have to drive every damn street in Denver.”
An idea formed, but before she could say anything, he swung her up in his arms. “Later. Tomorrow morning. Tonight is for us.”
Chapter 20
RAFE WOKE AMBER up for vigorous predawn sex and a few minutes of cuddling before he left to “run the Circle with the dogs.” His whole manner had become more cheerful at being able to act instead of wait. Since she couldn’t go back to sleep, she got out of bed, stripped it and put on clean sheets and started laundry. The refrigerator was looking an empty white and the last of the chocolate in the pantry—pudding mix—had mysteriously disappeared.
Sizzitt the firesprite was nowhere to be found and Amber would have thought that she’d dreamed the small being except that the candles on the mantelpiece showed some use. The teakettle was still warm and sitting on a tile next to the range, so Rafe might have lit a burner for her to play in or something. A firesprite living in her stove! Magic.
The shield sat propped near the fireplace in the living room, an equally magical decoration.
Amber decided to abandon Rafe to the dogs and Sizzitt and head to the grocery store. All the garages were on an alley behind the houses so she could sneak out without being seen by them. As far as she knew he and the firesprite hadn’t talked about driving.
When she got home from the store, she put a week’s worth of “wages” on the kitchen island holding the fondue pot, including blocks ready to be melted. Since the firesprite hadn’t mentioned whether she preferred milk or dark chocolate, Amber purchased both. She didn’t quite trust the brownies in the face of overwhelming temptation so she’d ringed the whole thing with silver picture frames she’d had on hand. It was true that silver was bad for the Lightfolk—major and minor.
Rafe had left a boldly scrawled note on the dining room table saying that he’d been invited to morning classes at the lyceum and he and Sizzitt were gone for the day.
And Conrad had called and wanted an update.
Conrad’s check had cleared and she’d better damn well do some work for him.
So Amber finished her chores, played with the puppies in the backyard, then left them to garden with Tiro, who was working on her flower beds. She stuffed herself with a large breakfast of protein, a three-egg omelet with ham and three sorts of cheeses and a large glass of milk. A couple of good meals and she would be ready to tackle the inception of Conrad’s curse whenever it might be.
She, too, was becoming more aware of magic and the various sensations of each elemental energy. And as she moved Conrad’s scroll back to the main area of her desk and unrolled it to the farthest end, anchoring it with paperweights, she had to admit it was a relief to consider Conrad’s curse. It was just as difficult as Rafe’s, and the man had been distraught, but it wasn’t nearly as urgent as Rafe’s death curse.
She spent the morning corresponding with an expert in medieval European history to whom she’d sent Conrad’s information. He’d traced the line a couple of centuries farther back than she’d worked on for Conrad, but currently they were stuck, believing that there had been a name change.
So she unrolled t
he chart that she was penning for Conrad and set it atop the one the man had given her. It held his vibrations.
Another quick walk around the cul-de-sac and the moment had come. She took a small tray of beverages upstairs with her—water, apple juice and a good-size cup of coffee.
Amber felt the food and drink weigh her down, good for bringing her back to the present. She wasn’t quite sure whether this would work, focusing her mind on the chart she’d made and linking with Conrad’s time line and just following it where it led.
Surely the curse would be the greatest episode in the time line and her minor power would be drawn to that.
Since both Pavan and Vikos knew of the Cymblers, Lightfolk were most likely involved. So, deep breaths and clearing of her mind, and leaning over her desk and putting her hands on the charts, connecting with Conrad and his family.
All was different. Blackness crashed down on her, highlighted by a fountain of purple and gold sparks that faded, leaving her in a darkness she’d never experienced. A whirlwind spun her around, taking her breath, and she knew she was passing out. She was yanked to a stop and fell into a scene of eerie colors, with things, people—Lightfolk—outlined in neon auras.
It was night and the sweep of stars was bright and not quite the pattern she was used to. Very far back in time, then. Most of the place below her was shifting blue, with a small solid radiating brown. Set in the brown was a circle of columns made of a pale green light shooting into the sky. A minute passed as Amber realized that the blue was a lake, the brown an island and the green columns…simply magic.
There was a large mass of light that moved, and as it did, Amber noticed that it was a group of Lightfolk. Another blink or two and she saw the two guardians she’d met before, the elf Pavan and the dwarf Vikos. Both men didn’t look younger, but their attitudes didn’t have the same heaviness of experience that she’d felt when they’d visited her at home. They also appeared less…dense.
The closest couple of light-columns were flanked by two male beings. The nearest was a tall, thin man—not quite the same type of Lightfolk, though Amber sensed he was magic. Smoky dark shifted around him as if he wore it like a garment. Bright twinkling lights in a rainbow of colors sparkled through the fog. Across from him was a large, thick-muscled man wearing gold…who had bull’s horns and a broad nose and didn’t look human. Gatekeeper. The word rose whispery from Amber’s most basic instincts to her brain. Minotaur. Gatekeeper.
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