Kian turned Seren about, spurring him in the direction of the castle, and made his way as rapidly as the fog would allow. Anticipation and desire made him a little reckless, and pleasure, too, for Loris had clearly missed him as much as he had missed her.
He was usually in his chamber when he transformed into his other self, but he hadn’t the luxury of time for that just now. Standing in the castle shadows far below her balcony, Kian became the man Loris thought she wanted.
The change completed, Kian reached out to press both hands firmly against the castle wall. The stone was cold, wet, and hard against his palms, but after a moment’s pressure the solid material softened. He dug his fingers into the wall as if it were made of damp clay and began to climb.
Her balcony doors were open, despite the cold, damp air, giving testament to her surety that he would come.
“Loris.”
She was waiting by the fire and rose when he spoke. The smile she gave him, which he so seldom saw as Kian, sent his heart tumbling wildly.
“Liw!”
And then she was in his arms, soft and warm, enveloping all his senses, holding him as tightly as she possibly could. Kian buried his face in her silky hair and shut his eyes. This was what he longed for every moment of each day. Loris. With him. Her heart open to him, as it would have been if not for the curse.
“I’m sorry I’ve been absent so many nights,” he murmured. “It was impossible for me to come.”
“It’s all right,” she said, pulling away just enough to look up at him. “Terrible things have been happening at Tylluan. It’s dangerous for you—for anyone—to be out in the dark. But I had to see you.”
“I’ve missed you,” he said. “So terribly. If you hadn’t called me to you, I would have lost my senses altogether.”
Lowering his head, he kissed her, gently at first, then, as she responded in kind, with deeper passion. His hands slid over the thin fabric of her dressing gown, finding the curves and valleys that his fingers knew so intimately. He had always taken the greatest of care with Loris, challenging though it had been, to never cross irredeemable boundaries, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t tested the limits as much as he possibly could.
She wasn’t like any other woman he’d held in his arms. There was nothing fainting or frail about Loris; she was tall and splendidly formed—she’d slapped him so many times when he was himself that he knew very well how strong she was—yet she was entirely feminine just the same. Her waist was firm and slender, her hips delightfully curved, and her breasts soft and full beneath his palms. Her golden hair, tied in a thick braid that fell almost the length of her back, slid against the backs of his hands in a silky caress.
To touch her like this, to be close to her, made him want to weep with both joy and longing. Joy for the small measure that he had with her, but longing for so much more.
There was an urgency in her kiss tonight, in the way her hands clasped him, a fear and tenseness that emanated from her to him. With slow care, he brought the kiss to an end and held her close, waiting until their breathing had calmed and Loris had relaxed more fully against him before speaking.
“What’s happened?”
“I pray that you’ll be able to tell me,” she said. “Something terrible has been happening at Tylluan, and the baron has been unable to discover anything about it. But surely you know what it is, Liw.” She lifted her head to gaze up at him. “You or one of your people. Don’t you?”
He shook his head with regret. “I know what you speak of, my love. Of the death and destruction that have been occurring. But I know nothing more. If Kian Seymour, being one of the great dewins, hasn’t yet divined what’s at hand, it’s unlikely that any lesser folk would know.”
“Can you help him in some way, then?” She stepped back, out of his embrace, and searched his face intently. “Not just to discover the source of the troubles, but a remedy, as well?”
“Why should I do such a thing?” he asked curiously. “Why do you want to help him?”
Loris’s expression grew troubled. “Because he needs someone … even though he’d never admit it or even ask, because he’s so terribly proud, you see … but despite that he needs someone to stand with him once Dyfed and I have gone.”
Kian strove to look as surprised as he possibly could by this statement. “Gone? You’re leaving Tylluan?”
She nodded. “The baron is sending us away to London. We’ll be leaving in a few days.”
“Because of what’s happening here? He’s afraid for you?”
Even in the dim fire glow he could see the blush that suffused her cheeks.
“Yes,” she replied. “In part because of that. I don’t wish to go, and he knows that full well, but Kian can be foolish about such things. And stubborn.”
“And will he let you return once the troubles have ended?”
“He will,” she said, and with a sigh turned to move back toward the fire. “And I intend to return very soon, whether the danger is banished or not. I hate the thought of London, and have no desire to be there even for a few days.”
“Loris,” Kian said softly, moving to stand beside her. “You know that I have almost always been sympathetic to you in your feelings about Lord Tylluan, but in this matter I believe he may be right.”
She looked at him with wide-eyed surprise. “Liw! You want me to go away, too? I would have thought that you …”
He gathered her into his arms and silenced her with a kiss.
“Of course I don’t want you to leave,” he murmured afterward. “I love you. The very thought of being parted from you is terrible to me. But this evil that has come to Tylluan may well be far more dangerous than anyone knows. Only consider again, Loris, what it means for a wizard of Kian Seymour’s standing to be unable to readily deal with what’s been taking place. For all we know the threat might reach the castle doors before it can be stopped.”
“Nonsense,” she said, pushing away once more, this time a little angrily. “Kian wouldn’t let such a thing happen.”
“He might not be able to help it.”
“Don’t say that!” she said with sudden and surprising anger. “You don’t know him as I do! Kian would die before letting Tylluan fall to such destruction.”
Well, that was interesting, he thought, watching as she began to pace agitatedly before the fire, the knuckles of her right hand pressed against her lips. Loris was offended on Kian’s behalf. It was a strange, but perfectly welcome, occurrence.
“I believe you.” He stepped forward quickly to grasp her hand before she could twirl about and pace away again. “But until Lord Tylluan has banished the evil here, I want you to be safe. And if London is the surety of that, then I want you to go.”
She looked down and said nothing, and Kian had the dreadful intimation that she was about to start weeping. He knew that Loris couldn’t bear to cry in front of others.
“My love,” he said, gently tugging her back into his arms. “My sweet love. I know that you dislike London—”
“Hate,” she corrected him, and he heard the despair in her voice. “I hate it as passionately as I love Tylluan.” She struggled with herself for a moment, then said more steadily, “I’m sorry, Liw. That was childish. I shouldn’t say such stupid things. Especially tonight, when I may not see you again for such a long time.”
Sighing, Kian bent and swung her up into his arms. “You’re weary,” he said, carrying her to the bed. “And not particularly happy at the moment. Nothing you say is foolish or childish, but understandable.”
He set her down, laying her head upon a mound of soft pillows, and followed suit, stretching out beside her. She rolled into him as he set his arm about her, falling into the comfortable position they’d spent hours in during the past years. Her cheek rested upon his shoulder, and his hand slid to her waist.
“You have terrible memories of your life in London,” he said. “Perhaps this will be the chance for you to make new memories. Better memories.”
“Ah,” he said. “Does this thought not give you pleasure?”
She nodded against his chest. “I should like to know who my people are. I’ve often wondered about them and why my parents cut off all communication with them. But it’s very strange, Liw. I always used to think that having the chance to meet my relatives would be the most wonderful thing in the world, yet now it frightens me a little.”
“How so?”
“What if my grandfather asks me to live with him? What if he insists that I can’t return to Tylluan? Kian has promised that no one will be able to stop me from coming back, but it would be difficult to naysay a blood relation. Oh, God.” She pressed her face against his chest and fisted the cloth of his tunic in one hand. “I don’t want to leave Tylluan. I have a terrible fear that I’ll never see you again, or this blessed place.”
“Of course you’ll come home,” he said, kissing the top of her head. “And have I not told you that I will only stop coming to you if you either banish me forever or discover my true name? I cannot live apart from you for long and know any happiness.”
Lifting her head, she blinked up at him. “How strange it is to hear you say that,” she murmured.
“Why?”
Her brows knit together slightly. “It’s so very like what Kian has sometimes said to me.”
God help him, Kian thought with a stab of panic. He was truly more weary than he’d imagined to have made such a misstep.
“Then he is a very wise man,” he said, and rose up, pushing Loris down so that she lay upon her back. He needed to distract her. Quickly. “You’re so beautiful, Loris,” he said, leaning over her and smoothing a few stray strands of hair from her forehead. “So dear to me. I love you.”
He kissed her, not giving her a chance to speak, already knowing that she’d not say the words back to him. She never had, not once in all the years that he’d come to her as Liw. He liked to believe it was because she couldn’t, that Loris knew, in her heart, that it was Kian her love belonged to. And so he gave her pleasure, instead, which she readily took from him, and made both of them forget anything either of them had said.
His lips parted over her own, lightly tasting her sweet depths. When the tip of her soft tongue touched the line of his mouth he opened to her and responded in kind. She moaned when his fingertips found her breast, and slid her hands across his back. His body hardened painfully with need, as it always did, but he made certain that neither of their caresses grew too bold or too intimate.
It was the worst manner of torment, being with her like this, unable to satisfy the desire they both felt. But it was necessary. The first time they were joined as one he wanted to be Kian, not Liw, and hear her speaking his real name upon her lips. But more than that, he feared what the Guardians would do if he abused the gift they had given him in allowing these few hours with Loris, able to touch without her knowing pain. If he took her maidenhead as Liw, it would make a mockery of the unoliaeth.
The embrace came to an end as it always did, slowly, with both difficulty and regret. Their breathing was heightened and their hands clinging, reluctant to let go.
“I must leave soon,” he said shakily, rolling to lie on his back. “I don’t wish to, believe me. But there’s something I must tend to before the sun rises.”
“You’ll not come again before I leave, will you?” She slid a hand across his chest, resting it upon the bare skin at the edge of his tunic.
“Not unless you call me,” he said, reaching his own hand up to clasp her fingers. He closed his eyes and strove to slow his breathing. “But you mustn’t call me, Loris. Not if you want me to try and help Lord Tylluan.”
“Will you help him, Liw? You and your people, as well?”
His people, he thought. She meant the faerie folk who lived in and about Tylluan.
“No,” he answered truthfully, staring at the firelight as it flickered on the canopy above. “They’re too fearful.”
“Faeries are never fearful,” she said. “You’re not.”
“They can be, if something particularly evil is near. The tylwyth teg may be bold when an opportune moment arises, but they’re not foolhardy.”
Her fingers curled tightly around his. “I can’t go to London, then,” she whispered. “I can’t leave him so alone.”
She’d never before been so worried about him. The thought both intrigued and pleased Kian deeply. She did know, in some distant part of her heart, what he was to her.
“He’ll not be alone, I promise you,” he said, turning his head to smile into her worried eyes. “He’ll have a good deal less to worry over once you’ve gone. And he’ll be able to solve the trouble that much more quickly. But now you must sleep, Loris, for you’re weary and need rest.”
It always seemed a tad ironic to Kian that he had the power to cause Loris to fall into slumber. How many men, he wondered, were able to claim that they habitually put their lovers to sleep? It was necessary for him to use such powers, however, for it would be impossible for him to leave her otherwise. And Loris seemed never to realize that he’d done it. Apparently, when she woke the next morning, her memories of the night before were sufficiently blurred to keep her from remembering precisely how they’d taken their leave of each other.
“I won’t be able to sleep,” she said, smiling a little as well. “And if I do, you’ll leave me.”
“I’ll stay a little while longer, my love. I’m going to miss you while you’re away. All of the men in London who see you will fall in love with you, and I shall be so far away that you’ll forget me.”
“No, Liw. I’ll think of you every moment. And long for you to come each night.”
She began to close her eyes and yawned, cuddling closer to his warmth.
“I’m glad,” he murmured, watching closely as she slid more deeply into slumber. “Because when you leave Tylluan, Loris, you’ll be taking my heart with you, and all my happiness. I’m going to rid Tylluan of the evil that’s come to us, I vow, and missing you is what will drive me to do it as quickly as I possibly can.”
Chapter Four
“Where did all this water come from?”
Dyfed’s booted feet sank into the mud as he measured the length of ground that was still partly covered in large puddles. It was as if a giant wave had somehow formed in the midst of the lake and rolled inland for half a mile before retreating.
“It’s very odd, sir,” one of the men said. “Is it the beast again, are you thinking?”
“We don’t know that it’s a beast yet,” Dyfed replied, though privately he believed that everyone in Tylluan knew it must be. But Kian didn’t want anyone to make any absolute determinations—not yet, leastwise—and Dyfed would do his brother’s bidding. He shook his head at what little he could see in the dense fog. There was so much destruction. Every plant had been pulled out by the roots and left to die on the muddy ground, and every rock had been dragged out of place.
What could it possibly be, except a great beast? he wondered. Possibly some type of giant mortal, but there were no footprints to indicate such a being. Indeed, the most frustrating thing about the troubles that had befallen Tylluan was the lack of any clues to lead them in one direction or another.
“Will you call for His Lordship, Master Dyfed?”
“No, not yet. I want to see how far this goes first, and whether there’s any sign of what caused this flooding. We’ll discover what we can and tell Horas once he’s returned from the last lookout and see what he advises. Bened,” he said, nodding at one of his companions, “you ride to the south, and Lud, you go north. I’ll head up into the tree line and find out whether the water managed to go up as far as the top of the hill. We’ll meet back here in half an hour’s time. Call out if you discover anything before then.�
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Mounting their horses, the men rode away into the fog.
With the exception of the faint wind ruffling the early spring leaves, Dyfed was aware of a strange silence as he entered the trees. There were none of the usual night sounds; the creatures who generally made them either had departed for a safer place or were simply too afraid to make a sound.
It grew darker, and the trees thicker, as he ascended the hill, but his horse, excellent animal that he was, readily picked his way through the foggy maze. Dyfed reached out a hand and felt of any trunk they passed near enough to, hoping to discover how damp they were. Instead, he felt something that had him bringing his mount to a sudden halt.
“What is this?” Dyfed murmured. He looped the horse’s reins over a nearby branch and moved to more closely examine the tree that had brought them to a stop. Running his hands over the trunk, he felt what the darkness and fog made difficult to see. The tree had been struck by something large and tremendously powerful, for it was bent to one side, half out of the ground, some of the bark and a few low branches stripped away. He moved to the tree beyond it and felt the same, and then to the next with the same discovery. Kneeling, he set his hand to the earth and felt how wet it was. Not as soaked as the ground nearer to the lake, but far wetter than mere fog would make it.
The horse, which he could no longer see for the fog, whinnied nervously from where he was still tied, and Dyfed said reassuringly, “It’s all right, Bachgen. Be easy. I only want to know how big this thing is, and then we’ll go.”
He felt a little foolish walking with his hands stretched out before him like a blind man, but he was a lesser wizard, possessed only of a single gift, and the fog made it necessary.
Each step he took without coming to the trees that should have been there, stumbling over broken branches strewn across the damp ground and tripping over ragged stumps, made his heart beat a little faster. The path that the beast, or whatever it was, had made was far wider than he’d expected.
It was definitely time to call for Kian.
Bachgen whinnied again, louder, more frantically. Dyfed heard the horse pulling at the branch he was tied to, rearing up and coming back down to the ground with a loud thud, and was suddenly seized by a stark premonition of grave danger.
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