Silver Hollow

by Jennifer Silverwood

Running her fingers through his thick locks, she pulled his cap off his head. “That settles it then. I’m staying.” The space between them decreased, flames and nixy stirring together.

  His lips brushed hers as he spoke. “You shouldn’t.”

  “Why not?” she asked with a groan.

  “I am afraid, Amie.”

  “Of what?” she gasped when his lips ghosted over the corners of her mouth and gently tasted.

  “What I shall do if you stay.” Slowly, he slanted his lips against hers.

  And her world exploded behind her eyes, a vision more brilliant than fireworks and stars. It melted her from the inside out, pooled from her stomach and sang through her veins, blended with her inner nixy and drowned in his heat. Beneath the frost, ice flowers began to grow, winter blooms of silvers, blood red and indigo violet. The flames illuminated his skin yet her inner nixy kept it in control, kept it from burning them and the forest around them to the ground.

  Amie’s inner nixy escaped her skin like slivers of light, bolts of energy jaggedly cutting paths across his arms and into his skin. As the winter garden filled the small glade around them Amie learned how to rein the beast. Dearg’s constant inner flame gave her the light and strength to do it and at last understand what Slaine had meant.

  She was never meant to control her powers. Together, she and Dearg were stronger than they could ever be apart. For some reason, Amie knew this was what the old man had been warning her about last night. Eyes opening, she found his pain long gone, no longer threatening to burn her to a human torch every time they touched. The fire still lingered there behind his eyes, wrapping tendrils of smoke from within his iris. But there was light there too.

  Barely a breath was spent apart before he kissed her again and again and again. Each breath felt warmer to her lungs, the snow harder to breathe in. Every scent drew more sharply through his nose as life flowed beneath the earth and filled them up.

  Amie didn’t recover her senses until he pushed her down into a carpet of spiraling faerie flowers. She barely pressed against his shoulders and he stopped. Amie sought to catch her mind again while they tried catching their breath.

  What just happened?

  Dearg must have felt something similar because his expression was heart-melting as well as terrified. What made the least amount of sense was, instead of talking about it, they smiled.

  Lying in the snow was generally known to induce hypothermia. Maybe they were going to freeze to death? Maybe they already had? Petals bloomed from the vines now hanging off nearby tree branches and shed their purple blossoms.

  And then, as in every woman’s ideal romantic dream, they talked. Amie wanted to laugh at how uncommonly common talking seemed after the experience they had shared. New she might be to this life, but already she felt another piece of the puzzle fall into place. The mystery was close to being solved.

  This was how she learned about the woman who had owned the dress Dearg gave Amie. His wife was his closest friend, but they were not passionate. Bonding for them was a necessity of the dark times. “I had not found my true spark yet and neither had she. So many were dying around us, we hadn’t the luxury of choice.”

  “How did she die?” Amie wondered if she had gone too far when his face twisted into a reflection of his agony.

  Without opening his eyes he answered, “Murder.”

  Amie turned to face him, slid a hand to rest over his chest and felt the syncopated rhythms of his twin hearts. He shivered beneath her touch, spoke in a hoarse voice tinged with fear, “We both were born with heavy birthrights, Amie. Do nay forget, no matter how they try to dress it up prettily for you. Your choice was taken from you the night you were attacked.”

  Chapter 37

  Beast & the Beauty

  In her dreams he carried her away from the house and into the forest, until their dying screams were only a haunting echo blending with the moaning moor.

  “Jessie!” A voice cut through with the winds and sliced deeply into her conscience. She had been exhausted after running for so long and so far. Now she pulled herself upright, pushing down on his shoulders as she searched for the voice in the wind.

  “Jessie!” A woman’s voice echoed the man’s and a sob broke through her silence.

  He slowed beneath her, this one who was a stranger now to her. Over the past several years he had scarcely visited their home. She wasn’t sure why she trusted him now to bring her to safety. But she was tired of running, tired of people dying to protect her.

  “What is it, dear one?” he asked, his eyes shining like emeralds beneath the starlight.

  She shivered as the winds cut through her cloak and remembered to tap into her nixy to warm back up. “Did you hear that? They’re calling for me. Maybe the Unseelie are gone. Maybe we can go home.” With every declaration hope flared wildly up in her and she struggled against him. “Let me go! We must go back. Can’t you see they’re waiting?”

  “No!” He grasped her more firmly and she sent a charge of her budding nixy into his skin. He gasped from the shock of it, enough for her to slip to the muck at their feet and try to run back.

  Snow was beginning to fall, yet when she breathed it in she realized it was ashes, blown from the fires ravaging the castle. If she concentrated hard enough she could almost see the towers poking their faces from the massive trees in the valley below. She had never been so far from home before and could not help the ache in her chest as it called to her.

  “Amie, no!” he called out and wrapped himself around her so they both stumbled to the cold earth. She struggled, prepared to charge him again with another zap of her nixy, but his bare fingers reached her cheeks first.

  Her lips parted as a warm numbness instantly set into her limbs.

  He spoke low against her ear. “Forgive me, dear one, for what I am about to do, but if they should find you and look within these memories, they will use anything against you, against us.”

  She gasped when her vision went black and rapid blurs of images sped past her mind’s eye. Memories of countless hours roaming the forest, playing in the orchard, learning the truth about her origin, those first few precious lessons she learned about her inner nixy. What terrified her was someone or something was blackening out those memories the instant they passed by them. It was as if they had drawn a veil over her mind, thrown a lock on it and stolen the key. Until she could no longer remember why she had been upset or cold, and gave in to sweet ignorance.

  A bright light woke her from the sweetest sleep she had found since coming to the Vale. Blinking back the snow stuck to her lashes, Amie’s eyes popped open to the Unicorn now staring her in the face. Never in equine history did there exist fur white as this. Cloven hooves, pearly opalescent horn and a trailing beard at its chin, this was the stuff of dreams. As she stared into its impossibly black eye memories of the night before took time sifting back into her mind. Dreams had filled her sleep, so real she had wondered if that was the reality…

  Dreams…memories…

  Amie gasped as the dream flickered in and out of her waking mind. Tears were halfway down her cheeks and she lifted a hand to brush them aside with wonder.

  Insomnia, pills to keep the dreams quiet and Father’s face before he took it all away…

  An arm tightened around her middle and Amie bit back a sob so she wouldn’t wake him. Her eyes flickered once more to the unicorn grazing beside them, watched as its black eyes peered almost knowingly into hers. The unicorn huffed. A cloud of honeysuckle-sweet breath washed over her. Amie sucked in a breath, the cold stealing her comfort. And then the unicorn began to whicker nervously in lighter bell tones. If she tuned her ear just right, she could nearly swear it was giving a warning. But when she moved to sit up another arm draped to gather her up and in a flash of light the unicorn was gone.

  It had stolen her confusion and sorrow with one look. Now it was gone, she was too afraid to dig deeper, to question what was obviously staring her in the face.

  I have t
o talk to Henry…now.

  Twisting her head, she was ready to give Dearg an earful for ruining number four on her list of childhood fantasies. Instead her heart filled with tenderness. His strong features, normally sewn into expressions of concentration or pain, were now slack in sleep. Brushing his full lips with her fingers Amie felt the warmth begin tingling in her toes the moment she remembered the way they felt on hers.

  Crawling up his chest, Amie realized their legs were also draped together.

  I can forget, just for a little bit longer, can’t I?

  …

  We should never have slept here, was the mantra that kept hammering in his conscience when he woke at first light. The frozen moisture made his skin crawl in a vain effort to explode into flame. Keeping it under control, especially like this, had never been an easy task. He wondered how Slaine managed to keep his wits about him when the old bildgedragon was so obviously round the bend.

  How any of us have kept our wits after all these ages…’tis a wonder we’ve not turned on them clever ones.

  Dearg never favored the precious Seelie with their false piety and hatred of their own half-kin. Blood was thicker than any bond ties he had known. Betray himself he might, but never would he betray his own kind.

  The unicorns lived off the edge of the world, the end of the borderland between the human world and theirs. Peculiar creatures, Dearg had never much favored the wretched beasts. Yet now he found its draw to the lass in his arms a comforting reminder.

  All is nay lost with the light-kin in your presence…

  Glancing down to her upturned face, he watched as dreams ravaged her conscience, watched the pain and struggle threaten to overwhelm her. Once more, as only she was capable, he felt something stir deep in his chest. A particularly painful twinge as her nixy wrapped around his inner flame and kept hold. Long as it kept her tied to him and out of the wretched wight’s influence, he was satisfied.

  Rrathgrim daemon!

  His thoughts turned darker, to a smoky, black-tipped fire as he recalled the very reason he despised Myrrdin Emrys so justly. He had to tell her soon. Waiting this long had only added to his sins. Dearg never had any hope for his own lost soul. But for Amie, he was willing for her to hate him, if it was what she needed to hear. And all thoughts left his mind completely when she stirred beneath him. His sharp hearing picked up the slight flutter in her chest as her heart sped and then relaxed against him. This too burned his stone heart anew, to know she felt such comfort with him.

  You should never have lost your head last night, you krathscurr!

  To the unicorn watching over the maiden and warily eying him, they must have been a sight. Her fluffy bejeweled skirts had covered them and created a blue halo behind her head when the sun caught its sheen. The moment was too perfect and too precious for him to dare breathe, to do anything but feign sleep and pray this moment would last forever. It was much more than he deserved.

  Closing his eyes, he was surprised when she crouched over him and snorted a brief laugh. Twitching to keep his own in, he tried to keep calm whilst sliding his arm further around her waist. When she brushed her lips over his he could nay help himself any longer. For once again, he was reminded that this was the last time she would ever embrace him willingly.

  And rightly so.

  Immediately he crushed her against him and lost all control. Flames erupted within him and his skin ached, trembled with the need for release. Only her nixy kept it under control, the string that tied them inexorably to one another. Within seconds she was flipped around on her back, his hands pressing her wrists into the earth. She watched him with something akin to shock when he paused and smiled. He couldn’t help it, couldn’t deny this one glory of joy she gave him. She made him feel again, and he could never forget this, long as he remained on this earth.

  “Amie?” he asked, hating that his voice so easily betrayed his heritage, if she could only remember how to listen.

  Smiling back at him, the sun in her emerald eyes, she replied, “Good morning, sunshine.”

  He blinked, released some of the coiled tension in his body. “Thought you were a dream,” he mused aloud.

  “Nope, and I think I prefer this dream, actually,” she said sadly.

  A rumble began in his chest, resembling a growl he forced back down. He couldn’t help tasting her lips. She was so unaware, as pure as the unicorn that still watched them from the safety of the trees. His spark had sent it reeling back into its precious forest.

  Blithering creatures, always afraid I’ll set their home ablaze.

  He rested his forehead against her neck and breathed her in. She smelled different than anything in the Vale, of lavender and rain and the moon. Like the sun, he was ever drawn to her cool light, so less severe than his own. Managing not to crush her somehow, he held onto her, listening to the beat of her heart. And he wondered why the thing he loved about her the most was the one thing he most feared? Her humanity separated her from the rest of them, even if she didn’t see as they. But when the time came, as it would come, he reminded himself, would it be her greatest strength or weakness?

  “Dearg?” Amie laughed when he sighed in reply. “I saw a unicorn.” After another sigh he mumbled to himself in the language of his people. Now there was only Slaine to speak it with and he had had enough of his uncle’s meddlesome predictions.

  “Come again?” she asked.

  He frowned in the direction the horned devil had fled, then stood, holding out a flame-wreathed hand. “Unicorns are pests, never one way or the other. Always both and yet not at all present.”

  “But they’re so pretty!” she protested, looking helplessly innocent and covered in the flowers and petals which tended to sprout from her apparel.

  “Try catching one,” he said wryly, then chuckled while brushing the petals from her hair. Half the fun was cleaning the other, giving another excuse to touch and sneak in a stray locking of lips. He was tempted to shove her back down so he could clean her off again.

  You’re wasting time and there’s precious little left…

  “What is it?” she asked when his smile faded and his eyes lingered back on Wenderdowne. His eyes flickered to hers, then he shook his head. Amie slid her hands up his chest to tug on his shoulders. “No, really, what are you thinking about?”

  “Once we leave this glade, things are going to change again.” Wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her flush into his embrace, he added, “If I dared, I’d keep you here in these woods. We’d never have to see another living soul again, unless ye fancied. I’d even weather the bloodletting unicorns.”

  Burying her face into his shirt, she sighed and said, “Fine by me. I’d rather live like a wild thing than go to Morcant’s ball.”

  It was a long time before he spoke again. When he did, he tried to ignore the concern and worry in her eyes, a reflection of his greater sorrow.

  You knew what you were and still you misled her.

  His conscience warred with him again.

  More like she wormed her way into your cave and hasn’t unleashed you since.

  “We’d best return. Slaine will cover for us, but I’d nay reckon with a hobgoblin,” he said confidently. Better that she feel safe until they had passed the danger. His eyes shifted and saw farther into the forest than Seelie or wight. The dark shadow approaching them was one he had seen before, only this time the air already tasted of blood.

  Chapter 38

  Splitting Hairs

  His people had been the grandest of them all, once upon a distant age. To recount the tale of their downfall brought him enough sorrow that even he would shed a tear. Loss had become something he understood as much as fighting. Dearg had been fighting all his existence and wasn’t about to give up. They never had, truly. Yet after an age of servitude and subjection to creatures he had easily picked clean before, his patience had worn thin.

  After his wife died, he had lost everything and therefore became less than nothing. He and Slaine
had their differing opinions on what must be done to reclaim themselves again. Dearg only hoped that in Amie he might find some kind of redemption. One touch of her soul had driven him to his knees, there in the stables.

  Could she undo it all? he thought as they wove through the trees, lingering on the fringe of Wenderdowne’s boundary line. He kept a constant watch for the shadow overtaking the forest while keeping a tight grip on her. He was not a shadow being, absent of light, like wights, but he could see through the darkness well enough. When he saw the silvery gleam of their blades he knew they were coming at last. How they had made it this far across the border without aid, he had his suspicions. But to share this with her would betray too much too soon.

  Since the human asked to speak with her first.

  Amie was oblivious and Dearg knew they must cross into Wenderdowne territory soon. But as soon as they did Iudicael would sense her presence. Amie had learned much of her power, but they were still shaping her into their perfect weapon. She wasn’t aware of the full extent, not yet. So he tried picking up their pace without seeming too obvious.

  “Why are we running?” she asked, tugging on his hand to slow them back down and nearly slipping on the ice-slickened ground beneath her heels.

  Dearg winced yet kept his face a study of stoic calm. “I fear your uncle shall not be favorable to me, should you arrive with the dawn in my arms.”

  “Why wouldn’t he?” Amie asked, her voice strained, emerald eyes fierce and wild as her spirit.

  Hardening his double-chambered heart and his emotions, he answered, “Because I am not the one they have given you to. Because there is much about us you do nay ken. I will nay ruin your future, Amie. Too much depends on what you do this night.”

  And once you ken the truth about me, you shall be more than willing to enact my punishment.

  Animals in the forest had stilled and the light snowfall picked up its pace. Dearg faintly wondered how the weather had changed so quickly. Before her arrival, they had lived in a world of unending summer. It was as if without her, not even the seasons were allowed to continue. He stared at the ring on her finger before glancing up at her jewel-like eyes.