“I knew you,” I told him, “even when you’d been the gríobhth for days and couldn’t talk to me. You were still yourself inside. You haven’t lost your sister. She will just look different on the outside.” Beauty in its many forms.
He kissed me, then set me away from him. “No distracting me. Finish the story. All of it, including every detail of this ‘ritual’ they put you through.”
I’d intended to gloss over some of that, but he watched me keenly, stopping me from time to time to probe for more information. So I told him everything. Partway through my description of the horrid idol, he picked me up and set me sideways across his lap, wrapping his arms around me and holding me tight.
It helped, and I hadn’t known I needed that. I told him all of it, trembling with the memory. He ran his hands over me, as if checking for injuries I hadn’t mentioned. “I really hate—with a vicious consuming hatred—that I wasn’t there to protect you,” he said in a low voice that grated with the force of his emotion. The gríobhth. Close to the surface.
“I’m all right,” I promised.
His fingers lingered over the inked-on talons circling my left arm. It had gone quiet, no longer gripping me or sending its insidious whispers to my heart. “Is this forever then?” he asked.
“I don’t know. I’m sorry it’s so ugly.”
His stricken gaze flew up to mine. “It’s not. In fact, it’s oddly beautiful and I don’t know how to feel about that. I don’t want them in you.”
“Maybe Andi can remove it when we get back.”
“Yes.” He frowned a little and I could follow that thought. If we got back.
“Do you think you can find the way back without the mapsticks?” I asked, knowing I had to bring it up.
He sighed. “Then you don’t have them?”
“No. They took everything.”
“I’m thinking the answer is no. That was a long journey even knowing the way—and I barely made it—even if I can shift again, there’s no room for mistakes. I’d have to know at least the landmarks for the launch point and direction.”
I nodded, unsurprised.
“Finish the story—how did you get us out?” He didn’t stop me again, letting me continue all the way to reaching our sanctuary. Then he picked up my foot, holding it out of the water and examining my toes.
“You could’ve gotten frostbite,” he said in an eerily calm tone. “You could’ve lost your fingers and toes because I carried you virtually naked through freezing air, and all I did was rut at you like a beast.”
I rolled my eyes at him, pushing away so he’d see. “This again?”
He regarded me grimly. “Still.”
“I’m perfectly capable of stopping you if I need to. I did in the cell, like I told you. You asked me to trust you—well, you should trust me.”
Relenting, he smiled a little, though his jaw remained set. “I want to rend them all to pieces for what they did to you.”
“You may yet get your opportunity,” I replied.
“We have to go back,” he agreed. “We need the mapsticks. Even if they’re already inside the barrier, the High Priestess and her minions having those jewels gives them too much power. And we’re here—we should get as much information as we can. Or kill them all and stop this now.”
“Yes.” That had occurred to me, too. I’d told Zyr all about Andi’s nexus, and the implications had laid a weight of responsibility on him, as well. “Or set her army free.”
He gave me a smile and touched my cheek, but didn’t voice the thought in his saddened eyes that likely none of those under her control could ever be freed. “It would’ve been lovely of my cousin,” he commented, somewhat caustically, “if she’d given you some hints about the ideal steps for us to take.”
“I don’t think she could.”
He snorted in annoyance. “All right, we’ll go when the weather clears. And if I can shapeshift again. By the look of the landscape, walking isn’t an option.”
I thought of the youngest princess, walking to the witch’s palace on the mountain. “No, it’s all high snowy peaks and deep valleys.”
“I can’t believe you threw us out the window to die.”
“You would’ve made the same choice.”
“Yes.” He coiled a strand of my hair around his finger, holding it up to the light, turning it so the shades of gold glimmered. “We also need that marriage certificate.”
I paused. “That’s hardly important.”
“It is,” he insisted. “It’s a binding contract among your people. We destroy it and we remove their ability to use you as their tool. Besides, you’re not married to him. I won’t have something out there saying you are.”
I gazed at him, taken aback by his vehemence. The gríobhth in him looked back, possessive and protective. With a sigh, I settled against him. “Have it your way.”
“Ah, I love to hear that,” he purred. “Come. Let’s get out and dry off. I want to have you in a proper bed. In my bed,” he added with particular emphasis.
I closed my eyes against the surge of emotion. He might not mean those words exactly as I heard them, but it was enough. “Yes, Lord Zyr,” I replied meekly, and his hands tightened on me.
He stood, water sheeting off of us, and he carried me out of the pool.
It took us some time to reach an actual bed, however.
The following morning dawned bright and clear, the storm having cleared off. If the High Priestess had been delayed in searching for us by the weather, nothing would hinder her now. Zyr stood naked before the windows, scowling at the clear skies, and turned at my disappointed sigh.
“I never thought I’d pray for snow,” he commented, then came over and tugged the covers off of me, looking at my naked body intently.
“I’m fine,” I told him, and he glanced up, smiling wickedly.
“I know. You’re just so beautiful I want to look at you while I can. I imagine you’ll insist on wearing clothes once we leave here.”
I giggled, stretching, reveling in his admiring regard. “I think that would be the wise choice. If there are clothes. We never did look.”
“I did,” he admitted. He gestured to a pile of clothing on a nearby chest, including a pair of leather boots on the floor, and what looked like a furry cloak. “Those should fit you. And I found this.” He reached to a table beside the bed and, sitting beside me, set it down.
Curious, I sat up. “A bow!” And a quiver of excellent arrows. “Where did you find this?”
“There’s a whole armory,” he explained. “With several other bows, if you don’t like this one, but this seemed like the right size for you.”
Eagerly, I slid off the bed, taking the bow with me. Shaking back my hair, I strung the bow and drew, testing it and myself. My left arm throbbed, weaker than it used to be, but the bow responded as sweetly as my own back home. I gave Zyr a radiant smile. “It’s perfect. Thank you.”
“You’re perfect,” he replied, watching me with an odd expression, which he turned into a cocky grin when he caught me studying him. “From now on you should practice naked. Just to please me.”
I wrinkled my nose at him and went to the clothes, putting my new bow down and taking those up. “I want to bathe once more before we leave. And maybe have another meal, if there’s enough food.”
“There is, enough for a few more days, in case I can’t shapeshift.”
I set the clothes down and went to sit beside him on the bed, taking his hand in mine. He regarded me seriously, the uncertainty clear in his eyes. “Zyr, you can shapeshift,” I told him.
“You don’t know—” he started, but I interrupted him.
“I do know. I think you’re so accustomed to life as a shapeshifter that you don’t realize all the little ways you do it,” I told him. When he frowned at me, I added, “The claws? The raspy tongue and purring. Your… other tricks.” I gave his cock a significant glance.
His face cleared. “I hadn’t thought of that.”
He caught my hand. “Karyn… thank you.”
“I didn’t do anything,” I said, giving him a curious smile.
“Yes, you did. More than you know.” He squeezed my hand and let it go. “Go bathe and dress or I’ll have to drag you back to bed yet again.”
Because I could, I washed my hair again, drying it before the fire before braiding it. I didn’t have any ribbons anymore, so I used a piece of lace from that misbegotten white garment. I didn’t go back upstairs to the bedroom we used, giving Zyr his space, and instead tromped out into the snow in my new boots to find this food storage chest and put together a meal.
There weren’t a lot of options, but there was enough to make a hearty stew. By the time Zyr wandered into the kitchen, it was ready to eat. “These n’Andanans are clever,” I said to him over my shoulder. “This cooking setup is excellently thought out.”
I turned, taking in his immaculate appearance—the familiar black pants and blue silk shirt, his hair once again sleek and tied back. For some reason I felt a pang of sorrow. Selfish, when I should be happy for him. “It worked.”
When he returned my smile, his seemed a little sad, too. He drew my braid over my shoulder, running his fingers down the winding bumps. “Back to the real world for us.”
Ah, that explained my sadness at seeing him back to his usual self. “You look good though.”
“As do you.” He took my hand and twirled me in a slow circle, rounding a hand over my leather-clad bottom as he did. “If I can’t have you naked, then these pants are the next best thing.”
I warmed with pleased embarrassment. What my mother would think to see this outfit. “Maybe we can come back here sometime, and stay naked and unkempt for a week.”
“If we live through this,” he muttered. “Did my cousin indicate any hope of that?”
I shook my head, dishing up the stew. “She said she couldn’t tell me much, or it would change things and imperil us more.”
“This is why I hate foresight,” he complained, taking the bowls from me. “It’s not useful.”
I followed him to the little table. “I don’t think that’s true. I wouldn’t have had the courage to resist the High Priestess and get us out if Andi hadn’t told me it was possible.”
“I’m not sure I believe that.” He extended his arm across the table to set the bowl in front of me. “You are—”
I gasped, and he broke off, going alert. “What’s wrong?”
Reaching over, I touched my ribbon around his wrist, revealed when his sleeve had slid back. “You still have it.”
He turned his hand to hold mine. “Of course I do. I told you I’d keep it.”
“You didn’t have it before,” I countered. “That next morning on the beach. I thought you forgot about it.” Or threw it away.
“I…didn’t feel right wearing it,” he explained slowly, studying our joined hands. “I knew you had a lot of expectations of me and I seemed certain to fail them.”
“But you’re wearing it now,” I pointed out, feeling breathless, maybe even hopeful.
His eyes met mine and he grimaced ruefully. “Well, I figure that we’re pretty certain to die today, so I thought I could probably make it a few hours without letting you down.”
“Zyr,” I said, very seriously. “You have never once let me down. You’re the best man I’ve ever known and I’ll love you until my dying breath.”
He lifted my hand and kissed it, eyes full of emotion. Then he gave me a cocky grin. “Also easy to say if that’s only a few hours away.”
I laughed. “True.”
And even though we might not survive the day, and though he hadn’t made me any promises—that required believing in a future—I let myself revel in the hope that we’d have one.
~ 27 ~
We ate, cleaned up the house and set it to rights again. It seemed empty and expectant as I stepped outside, bundled in my new fur cloak, and I made a mental promise to come back. If we survived, we should replace at least the food, in case other travelers needed the refuge.
It occurred to me that the former occupants might be living in that dreadful landscape beneath the palace. I knew Zyr didn’t want to dash my hopes, but I still nursed the idea that they might return.
Zyr, in gríobhth form, turned his head to look at me expectantly. He’d shifted a bit ago and taken a test flight, to be sure he could. Something else he hadn’t spoken aloud, how his confidence had been shaken, but he’d casually told me to wait inside and stay warm while he stretched his wings, and I knew he’d wanted me to be safe if he failed.
But he’d returned, black fur and feathers gleaming with blue highlights in the frosty sunshine. The chill wind off the high peaks ruffled his crest, and his gaze glittered with some of his old fire. I buckled a harness onto him that he’d found, suggesting that I could use it to anchor myself to his back. In case of another aerial battle.
Climbing on, I fastened the straps around my calves and thighs. The fur-lined leather pants Zyr had found for me were ideal for this arrangement. I threaded the final buckle around my waist. As Zyr had said when he found the harness—in the same armory where he’d gotten the bow and where I dug out more arrows and, bless Moranu, a crossbow, too!—with the smallest adjustment, the harness seemed perfectly designed for this purpose: to allow a rider on the back of a flying animal to stay secure and hands free for fighting.
I couldn’t decide if that was a good omen or bad, that we followed in the footsteps of the disappeared or captive previous occupants of the well-fortified house. With my new bows at the ready and several quivers stowed in various places, I patted Zyr on the shoulder. He’d had his head turned around, watching with interest. “I’m ready if you are,” I told him.
He nodded, giving me a long look, so much of him in it. Then he faced forward, his strong body gathering beneath me, and ran across the stone terrace, leaping off with wings spread. I let out a whoop of pure joy and triumph.
If we died today, it would be on our terms. On the wing and armed to the teeth.
For a while we flew in circles. He felt sure that, despite his fragmented memories of our escape, that he hadn’t flown more than an hour. It had seemed endless to me, but I believed him. Neither of us had any clue about the direction. Still, I’d assured him the palace had to be easily visible, high on that mountain and with all those shiny windows.
We’d debated approaching by night, but the gríobhth vision worked best in bright daylight and Zyr hadn’t been confident of doing a partial shapeshift for night vision in that form. Besides, I had a feeling that Deyrr and his followers were no weaker at night and could be stronger, creatures of darkness that they were.
The vantage from Zyr’s back at midday showed the sprawling landscape of n’Andana that we’d missed before. The high mountain peaks that surrounded the palace and that housed our temporary refuge did go for some distance, but then quickly fell away to lower, green and rounded hills. A blue glint in the distance showed the ocean not all that far away on some of our loops.
Spotting a tumble of white stone on the coast that looked more structured than most, I nudged Zyr to investigate. He obligingly flew in that direction, and it soon became clear it was indeed a city, and far more vast than the cliff city at Annfwn. Built partially into the hillsides, but also on top of them, the buildings stood in orderly tiers, as well maintained as our refuge had been.
And equally as empty.
Zyr landed on a parklike hillside above the city proper, and I unbuckled the straps so I could get down, taking my bow and quiver with me. I stared at the silent city with chill horror. “Did she take them all? Even the children, the eldsters, the sick and the weak?”
He nudged me, then took a few steps, settling his wings.
“If you’re going to shift,” I said to him, “I can take the harness off.�
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The look he gave me was pure gríobhth arrogance, and still shaped the expression on his face when he became a man, in his perfectly groomed mode. He held up his wrist, showing me the ribbon, as crisp and perfect as when I’d tied it on him. “I’ve been practicing keeping things,” he replied, with that same sneer he’d used for the word in the past, but his eyes danced with mischief. “It’s not as if it’s difficult. Part and parcel of keeping company with mossbacks, I suppose.”
I thumped him on the arm and he laughed, making me smile. Something he’d done on purpose, I knew, to help me feel better. He put me in front of him, wrapping his arms protectively around me, as we both surveyed the deathly still landscape.
“There aren’t even any natural animals,” he observed. “No songbirds. No sign of life in the sea.”
“She took everything. Every one of them.”
“Building her army.”
“Yes.”
We stood quietly a moment longer. “We can fly over the city, if you like,” he offered. “Maybe some people are in hiding.”
“If so, why would they reveal themselves for us? No.” I very nearly told Zyr we should make a break for it, fly out over that deceptively tranquil ocean, that we could risk drowning rather than returning to the palace. But that would be the coward’s way out.
I sighed, then squared my shoulders. “Let’s go get that jewel, if we can’t kill her. It will at least slow her down, rob her of some power.”
“Dropping her from a high place would slow her down more,” he observed with glittering relish.
“If you can make that happen, I’ll love you forever.”
He spun me around and kissed me. “You already promised that.”
“I promised to love you to my dying breath—it’s not the same thing.”
“It is to me. Tell me again. Tell me as often as you like.”
The Arrows of the Heart Page 31
