by Imogen Sera
She leaned forward and briefly kissed right next to her hand and then grinned at him. He stayed perfectly still, she suspected he was still worried about scaring her. She was far beyond that now, though. Hadn’t she just been thinking to herself that she would love him no matter what he looked like? Here he was, about as different as she could imagine, and she didn’t love him any less. He wasn’t frightening, he was hers.
She moved backward along him, touching his strange skin all the while. When she reached his wing, she paused.
“Can you open this up?” she asked. “I want to see.”
He unfolded his great emerald wing and held it out, and suddenly she was bathed in darkness. She couldn’t get over the sheer size of him, and saw now that his stretched wing was almost as long as his body. It wasn’t all green, either, but was streaked with gleaming lines of gold. It was gorgeous.
She continued around him, examining everything she could, in awe of the immense power before her. She came back around to his head, and paused. She placed her hand where his cheek would be, and then rubbed hers there.
“You’re so beautiful,” she said, feeling as if she were in a trance.
And suddenly he was gone. But not gone, of course, because there stood Helias- her Helias, and her big, naked love was holding her and kissing her and laughing with her; and she thought she could see tears in his eyes but his wide smile helped her not to worry.
He pulled her to the ground with him and cradled her in his lap, and held her tightly.
“I was so afraid to frighten you,” he breathed, his voice full of relief and wonder.
“You’re not scary,” she said, putting her hands on his shoulders, “you’re just you.”
He nodded vigorously, and now she could clearly see his glimmering eyes, and she felt as if she had done something very right.
He was still grinning as he laid her in the grass, kissing along her neck, peeling her clothes off as he tried to touch everywhere at once. He impatiently got her pants down and then licked her, soft and slow, and quickly and persistent, for a long time, and she was sweaty and trembling and delirious with desire when he finally pushed his cock into her, and she was overwhelmed the most exquisite happiness.
He gathered her to him afterward, and they lay together whispering and laughing and dreaming out loud until long after the sky was dark and the world slept.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Caelian was the first to arrive. He hadn’t written ahead, so when there was a loud pounding on the front door one morning shortly before breakfast, Ingrid and Helias had shared a confused look and dressed quickly. He had embraced his older brother immediately, and upon being introduced to Ingrid had enveloped her in a bone crushing hug as well. He smiled easily and frequently, and when he joined them for breakfast she understood why several of the female residents had rearranged their seats to be sitting nearer to him.
Ingrid liked him right away. It was difficult to not like him. After breakfast she and Helias ushered him to the library to talk privately, and he spoke the whole way about his travels. Once they were seated and settled Caelian gestured between Ingrid and Helias.
“So, what’s this?”
Ingrid’s cheeks colored and she scooted away from Helias, but he put his arm around her and pulled her back. “None of your concern,” was his response, in a tone that Ingrid hadn’t heard from him before. Commanding.
“Just asking,” Caelian said easily, still smiling.
Ingrid relaxed against Helias, finding herself oddly charmed by his display.
The sunlight illuminated the room, and as it fell across Caelian’s face Ingrid studied him. He was remarkably handsome, with light hair and bright blue eyes, and although his face was similar to Helias’s it was different in a way she couldn’t put her finger on. As she watched him talking animatedly, his face lighting up, she realized that he looked completely unburdened. His features didn’t have the same severity of his older brother’s, and Ingrid wondered whether the difference in the brothers’ burdens was a result of personality or circumstance. She looked up at Helias and affection surged through her. She squeezed his hand and then excused herself, needing to tend to her morning chores.
A week passed slowly, and then another. Helias and Caelian were holed up in the library nearly all day, and Ingrid was stretching herself thin with the increased infirmary duties. Most nights she fell into bed too exhausted to do anything except wrap her arms around Helias before falling asleep, and if they wanted to have any pleasure at all it had to be in the morning when golden light first flooded the room and everyone slept. They would cling to each other afterward, sweaty and spent, until the noises of the house were too persistent; then they would rise and separate for their duties.
In the kitchen one evening as Ingrid and Lily were preparing dinner Helias swept in and cupped Ingrid’s face and then kissed her hard, kissed her until she was breathless and dizzy, kissed her until she didn’t know up from down and left from right. He looked at her hungrily, desperately.
“I miss you,” he said, and then kissed her forehead quickly. “Hi, Lily,” he acknowledged, and then he was gone, and Lily laughed delightedly. Ingrid touched her mouth, dazed. She hadn’t even set down her knife.
. . . . .
Two new patients arrived the next week. The first was a man in his second half of life who had been delivered by his weeping daughter and had perished the next morning. The second was a young woman who had arrived on a cart, unconscious; the old man who delivered her, presumably her father, had informed them that she was called Margaret before turning and leaving without a glance backward. After she’d been safely moved to the infirmary Ingrid studied her state. Aside from the obvious boils on her pale face her long yellow hair was unwashed and uneven, her dress was threadbare and filthy, and her fingers were red and blistered. Ingrid put a gentle hand on her cheek and promised to take care of her.
She set about washing her hair as well as possible while the woman remained in bed, and after it was clean and brushed thoroughly it was gleaming. It was still uneven, as if the ends had been hacked off carelessly, but Ingrid felt uncomfortable cutting it without consent. She cleaned her exposed skin gently, taking special care with the woman’s hands, and then rubbed a healing salve on the woman’s fingers before covering them with soft gloves. Ingrid finished and chewed on her lip, wondering about the woman’s life. Ingrid had lost her family which had been painful, of course, but while they lived she had always known she was loved. She wanted this woman to feel cared for.
Ingrid sat back in her chair and shut her eyes. She missed Helias. She understood why the research had become all consuming for him, especially once his brother had arrived. He wanted desperately to return home, and having Caelian here reminded him of what he was missing. She tried to keep the thought from her mind, but it was always there, always poking at her. She wanted him to be able to return home and be happy, but she struggled to imagine a way that she would be happy without him.
She watched the sun dip below the horizon and rose from her seat to dress and wash for dinner. When she emerged from the infirmary she found Caelian pacing up and down the hallway, his face drawn and pale.
“Are you alright?” Ingrid asked gently, approaching him.
He nodded, looking confused, and then shook his head. “I don’t know. Something feels wrong.”
“Wrong?” she questioned.
He looked down the hallway for a moment, took a deep breath, and then shook his head again. “I’m sorry Ingrid, I was just feeling… strange. Everything is fine.”
They walked to dinner together and he seemed to be back to his usual smiling self. Ingrid couldn’t help but silently agree with his initial assessment though; something felt wrong.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Tarquin arrived on a storm of black wings one rainy afternoon. Caelian had been at the house for nearly a month, and although he and Helias had spent most of their waking hours trying to find answers they hadn’t seemed t
o have made any progress. Ingrid was trudging across the muddy field with a soaking gown and a basket of eggs in her hand when she noticed Mira who was standing agape, staring skyward, not noticing Ingrid. Ingrid managed to shout over the rain to get her attention, and Mira simply pointed up where she was staring. There was a great onyx beast flapping it’s massive wings, unmistakably coming their way.
“I thought Lily was lying,” Mira murmured, not looking away from the sight.
After Caelian’s arrival Ingrid and Helias had agreed that it was time to reveal the truth to the residents, given that it would need to come out sooner or later. Lily had seemed eager to help, and given that she was excited to know what was really going on and had a talent for gossip she was a natural choice to spread the news.
Ingrid set her basket down and strode to Mira’s side. “I need to fetch Helias.” She gestured to the sky. “He’s invited, Mira, you’re perfectly safe.”
Mira nodded mutely, not taking her eyes from the ever closer black form.
Ingrid left Mira in the rain. She found Helias in the library, as always, and upon learning of his brother’s impending arrival he dashed upstairs promising to be back quickly. Caelian grinned and accompanied Ingrid back outside.
From the porch Ingrid could see that Mira was where she had left her, looking as if in a trance, and in front of her was a tall, well built man with dark hair that fell down past his shoulders. The stare between the two of them made Ingrid uncomfortable to witness, perhaps partially because the man was completely naked, but then Caelian shouted for his brother’s attention and it ended.
“Tarquin!” he yelled, hurrying over to him.
Helias appeared next to Ingrid and held up a pair of pants.
“I knew he would need these,” he smiled at her, then hurried down the stairs as well.
Ingrid followed behind them, and watched as Tarquin accepted the clothing reluctantly.
“Mortal prudery,” he sneered at no one in particular, but pulled them on.
Ingrid crossed to Mira’s side, and put her arm around the dazed woman. “Are you alright?” she murmured, and Mira looked confused but nodded.
Ingrid ushered the party inside out of the rain, and pointed the brothers toward the front hall where a large fire was burning. She took Mira by the hand and guided her to the kitchen where she found Lily.
“Lil,” Ingrid said, steering Mira to a seat at a small table, “I think Mira needs some tea. And some company.”
Lily looked at Ingrid curiously.
“Tarquin is here,” Ingrid elaborated, “he came by air.” She raised her eyebrows meaningfully.
“Ah,” was Lily’s response, and Ingrid promised to update her as soon as she could. She rushed to her bedroom to change into something dry, and then hurried back to the front hall. She could hear Helias’s low voice and Caelian’s laughter, and upon entering the room Helias stood to greet her. He introduced Tarquin to her, and her to him as the lady of the house. Ingrid extended her hand and he took it in his, raised it to his face, and sniffed deeply. She looked up at Helias, confused, and Caelian laughed loudly.
Helias pulled Ingrid onto the couch next to him. “Tarquin, you haven’t even tried to learn human customs, have you?”
Tarquin shrugged, nonplussed, and remained standing. “I’d like to see the shrine.”
Helias agreed to show him, and Ingrid shook her head slightly in response to his wordless invitation. Caelian also declined and Ingrid turned to look at him, surprised. He was staring into the fire, his usual smile noticeably absent, and at the sight a chill crept down Ingrid’s spine.
. . . . .
“She’s your mate.”
Helias turned to Tarquin, surprised, as he lifted the trap door. “She’s human,” he said carefully.
“So she’s not your mate.”
Helias was surprised by how much that statement bothered him. “I don’t know.”
Tarquin sighed. “You know. Either she is and you don’t want to admit it to yourself or she’s not and you regret that.”
Helias turned that over in his head, wordless as he guided Tarquin down to the first room.
“Is she suitable?” Tarquin asked, breaking the silence.
“Yes,” he responded quickly. “She is.”
They returned to silence as Helias led him through the last passage to the stairs, and as they descended into the cavern he could hear Tarquin’s intake of breath.
Helias gazed across the eerie lake, glowing unnaturally green. Tarquin stood next to him, gaping at the sight.
“I know what’s happened here,” Tarquin said quietly. “It’s happened before, far from here. It’s what drove us away from the human lands in the first place.”
Helias looked at him curiously.
“I was on the other side of the world when I got your letter. I had followed rumors to a settlement not unlike the one down the road from here. It had been struck similarly, but there were no survivors,” he began. “It’s a remote, hard to access village, and perhaps that’s why the illness never spread after the initial outbreak. There were only ruins left. The land is shriveled and barren, even centuries after the outbreak. I searched it thoroughly and I found a dragon shrine very similar to this. It wasn’t hidden, though, they’d built an entire temple around it. It was this exact shade but faded with age.”
“No survivors,” Helias responded thoughtfully.
Tarquin looked at him oddly. “Do you know how the shrines work?”
Helias nodded. “The source of our power.”
“Not just that,” Tarquin said, “but our only vulnerability. And this one’s been poisoned, just the same as the one that I found.”
“Poisoned?” Helias questioned.
Tarquin shrugged. “They can’t be destroyed by conventional means. Not for mortals. They have to be corrupted. Defiled. Sabotaged.”
Helias paused for a long moment, feeling wrath rising in him. “You’re saying this isn’t natural? Someone did this on purpose?”
“I’m sure of it.”
“Why would this someone have wanted to punish the humans as well? It doesn’t make sense.”
“I’m not sure that it was intended,” Tarquin said thoughtfully. “I believe that the human illness was a side effect of attacking the intended targets.”
“Us.” Helias thought of Ingrid and felt ill. Her life had been viciously torn apart for absolutely no purpose, just fallout. “What do we do about it?”
“Burn it.”
Helias sighed. “I can’t force that on her,” he said, focused on the water.
“Remember who you are,” Tarquin snarled suddenly, then turned and studied his brother’s face. “I hope when the time comes she’ll do it herself.” He turned and stalked up the staircase, out of sight.
Helias remained there for a long time, staring into the swirling depths and considering his brother’s words.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
They received word from Augustus the next day. He would be arriving within the week, and he would be bringing a guest and news with him. Ingrid felt helpless. With each new arrival and each day that passed they were hurtling toward an end that she didn’t want and couldn’t prevent.
Ingrid ran her fingers through Margaret’s silken hair before twisting it into a braid. There were many patients and she wasn’t sure why she was so attached to the unfortunate woman in particular, but for some reason caring for her felt like a form of therapy.
Ingrid finished her task and administered the herbal pain remedy. Margaret obediently swallowed when asked, and Ingrid smiled at that. The previous night she’d needed to massage her throat to get her to swallow, so maybe there was hope after all. She knelt next to the bed and took Margaret’s hand in hers, as she did every time she was going to leave. She squeezed it gently, and promised that Margaret would be taken care of and she would see her soon.
. . . . .
Ingrid went back to her room to change, and Helias was already there and very ple
ased to see her. She was relieved to have a moment alone with him, and he easily talked her into allowing him to join her in the shower. She was exhausted and he seemed to sense that; he washed her gently and as she leaned her head back while he cleaned her hair and massaged her head, she was struck again by how strong her feelings were for him.
