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Authors: Michele Barrow-Belisle

Bittersweet (25 page)

BOOK: Bittersweet
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Hawthrin answered as if reading my mind. “The how isn't of great importance in this moment. It is in the deciding of things that the way is made. ‘Once you make a decision, the universe conspires to make it happen'. Ralph Waldo Emerson.”

I sighed. Zanthiel. And me. Me and Zanthiel. Together. Married.
Married
. This was one messed-up fairytale. My happily ever after had again taken a sudden sharp U-turn and left me for dead by the side of the road.

“I hate this,” I said to no one in particular. “I don't want to stay here. I don't want to be queen. And I don't want to be married.” I glanced briefly at Zanthiel, but his expression was unreadable. I walked to the edge of the balcony and pressed my fingertips against the frosty railing, watching as my melted prints were covered with fresh frost. “But I don't want anyone else I love to die. I don't want to lose any chance of ever returning, and I don't want to be cursed with the touch of death for the rest of my life.” Spinning around I faced them, looking from Zanthiel to Hawthrin and back.

“I guess this is it then. This is the plan,” I said it to Zanthiel. He'd been quiet for too long and I needed to hear his voice.

But he only stared back at me with those coldly impassive eyes that saw too much. Finally, he turned away. He strode to the window and peered into the perpetual twilight.

The chill in my heart grew colder. ”If I do this… if
we
do this, everything changes,” I said.

Question was, would it be for better… or for worse?

 

Chapter Thirty-seven

 

We eventually took our meeting indoors, as the evening air took on an uncomfortable chill. It was very unusual for the Summer Court, which always had tropical weather. The last few remnants of daylight were spent holed up in my suite, rehashing every scenario, and debating every outcome.

Hawthrin drew on his pipe, exhaling turquoise smoke rings. “You both must meet me at the Citadel of Elyssium no later than four nights from this night. I shall personally carry the news to King Etienne. It will be at the Solstice festival that your engagement will be officially announced. You must attend, for that night will be our best chance to repair the veil. Whoever is behind this has access to powerful magic. We still have no knowledge of who that might be, nor their intentions for sealing the veil. We must remain vigilant and on our guard at all times. There are as many friends as there are foes in Mythlandria, and none of them will show their hand before they are ready to do so.”

Zanthiel turned from the window. “This is your grand plan then? To eternally bond yourself to someone you cannot bear to be with for more than an hour?”

“I can bear you for more than an hour,” I said. “Sometimes.”

“We will find another way.”

“There is no other way,” Hawthrin replied. “Why else would I have offered the suggestion?”

Zanthiel scoffed. “I should have known such madness was your conjuring. She has a family and a life to return to. We did not come here for more problems.”

“No, we didn't. But I'm done waiting for miracles or saviors, and I wasn't going to just let you die. You're welcome by the way.”

His scowled deepened.

“I'm making my own miracles this time, Zanthiel. This plan will work. If we don't do it we will lose everything, including our heads. Is that what you want?”

“Don't ask me questions to which you already know the answer. It's maddening.” He clenched and unclenched his hands three times until a large pink crystal appeared in them.

I frowned, giving him a puzzled look. Rose quartz. That much I knew. “What is that for?”

“It's for love. Or at least it will help in casting the illusion. If we are to parade around the Nevermore as though we are betrothed by choice, then it will have to be… believable,” he said, steering his gaze toward me. “Fooling sprites and pixies, and even dwarves, will be a simple task. However, fooling the rulers of Faery and Mythlandria and… their heirs, will take another level of commitment. Are you prepared to do whatever it takes to convince?”

“Yes, I am. Are you?”

“I am.”

“Look at the two of you,” Hawthrin mused. “Already rehearsing your vows? How charming.”

I scowled at him. “How long will we need to keep this up, Hawthrin? I mean, there's an out, right?”

“The only out from a wedded union is death, dear heart. So if you wish to undertake the tasks you have come here to do, you must be sure. For there is no undoing what will be done. To survive, you either commit or you go back.”

“There is no going back.”

“Then your choice is made. Your fate sealed. And, your lives spared,” Hawthrin said. “What say you, dark prince? Your lack of verbal repartee is surprisingly vexing. Are you certain you can pull off the pretense of being in love?”

I glanced at Zanthiel who still looked as surly as he did an hour ago. He folded his arms and turned away. Likely he'd be furious with me for a few more days. But at least he'd live long enough for me to make it up to him. Somehow. All I knew was that there was no such thing as permanent, not in my world and certainly not in this one. We'd figure out the escape clause later. For now, time was running out and we had a pretty lengthy to-do list, all of which required us to be alive to accomplish.

“I'm committed,” I said firmly.

“Good,” Hawthrin said, throwing Zanthiel an unsure look. “Now let us go and make the news public.”

****

Titania was quick to agree to our request. It didn't surprise me. She had always wanted unity among the Fey. But retrieving her crown was going to be another task entirely.

Zanthiel approached, holding the reigns of two animals. One was my unicorn, Ulyssius. The other, a sleek black horse, with a flowing mane and luminescent red eyes.

I squinted, recognizing the mythological shape shifter. “You're riding a Poukah? Do you think that's safe?”

“It is for me. You, however, will be safer riding your unicorn. You still remember how, don't you?”

“I hope so.”

He handed me a sword.
My sword
. The one Adrius had forged for me. I ran my finger gingerly over the elegant Elvish scrolls carved into the blade.

“I hope you remember how to use this, too.”

We loaded our supplies onto our mounts, and set off before darkness fell.

The trod leading from the island of TirNaNon to the Fire Islands made for a short journey.

“Why is Titania's crown kept in the mountain?” I asked Zanthiel as we rode toward the setting sun.

“To keep it safe. It is guarded by a dragon. Few would dare venture there, for fear of death by heat and flame.”

“One more thing to be terrified of.”

He looked over at me and frowned. “Goblins can smell fear. Never forget that.”

“Wonderful. As if I don't have enough to freak out over.”

“And trolls can taste it.”

The Fire Islands were only accessible by water, unless you were fey and could utilize the trods connecting all of the Faery Islands. Of course, there were bigger things to worry about than getting there. The Fire Islands was protected by a dragon, as the name so charmingly implies. I had no desire at all to fight another one, not after the battle in Mythlandria. Using my magic wasn't a choice here, it was a necessity. And because Queen Titania had willingly agreed to relinquish her crown, before I'd even worked up the nerve to ask, I was forced to go through with it.

Holding tightly to Ulyssius, I followed Zanthiel. We wove our way through the dense forest surrounding the island, Zanthiel slicing at the writhing vines hanging in our path. They shrieked, spewing frothy neon green liquid before shriveling to the ground. Flowers towered over me and their thorny centers lashed out, tearing at my clothes and skin. Fragments of memories sifted through my fears. The goblins. The crimson riders. The king's guards. All after my soul, or my severed head. The dangers in this realm were ceaseless.

We rode onward, until my arms trickled with blood and my thighs burned with fatigue.
Keep going.
It's not much further.
It couldn't be.

Zanthiel's description of the place where they'd been keeping the Summer queen's crown was exactly as he'd described it. The temperature was lava hot, and the mountain crawled with Jurassic beetles and stinging nettle. Few creatures in the forest would dare come too close. They knew who I was. What I could do. They had no clue I had no control over my powers. Something to be grateful for. If I continued to fail to use magic, they'd grow bolder and more open with their attacks. I slashed at another vine as it reached for my leg in an attempt to trip me. Then I swiped the beads of sweat from my forehead as I stalked further. Deeper into the unknown.

No wonder Titania had so willingly agreed to let me have her crown. She knew the trials I'd have to pass in order to obtain it. I guess if I could pull this off, I'd be ready for Mab, my father, and when the time came... Venus.

Zanthiel dismounted. His midnight beast reared on its hind legs. With a snort, it shifted from a six-foot stallion into a black crow with a six-foot wingspan. With a flap of its wings strong enough to stir the sultry air, it flew off.

“There goes your ride.”

Zanthiel smirked. “We won't need it.”

Waves of heat poured over us. The smoky scent of fire filled my nostrils. “Why would Titania send us to get her crown?” I coughed to clear the smog from my lungs.

“What did you think, she would just retrieve it herself and hand it over? She is a faerie royal. One who does not detest you, but a fey all the same. She would not be true to herself if she were to make things easy on you.

No, of course not. Doing things the easy way isn't the norm for anyone here. It would be slightly easier if I didn't have such a hard time with my powers.

He picked up on my thoughts and shrugged. “The only problem with your powers is you're afraid.”

“Afraid?”

“Yes. Afraid to tap into the emotions that fuel them. Afraid to use all sides of your being, your heart and soul, your love and hatred, your faerie magic and your witch's magic.”

“Alright then.” I walked over to him, my arms open wide. “Teach me to fight. I need to know how to use my powers to defend myself.”

“Why, when you could just let me handle the fighting?”

“I know you don't get it. You're a Shadow fey. You don't go through life thinking of your safety or anyone else's. You act as though risk and danger were of no real consequence at all. I can't afford to live like that. I'm flesh and blood and I feel real pain. Do you?”

His eyes darkened. “You lecture me on my inability to assess danger? What of you? You're an infant in all of this. You have a power so great inside of you and you have no idea how destructive a force it could become. You are brand new to this world, Lorelei. I question daily whether you should be permitted to handle sharp objects, let alone carry such power.”

“How dare you,” I spat. “I'm not some little kid playing around here. I've lost more than you will
ever
understand because you don't feel for people and things the way I do... with my heart. So you have no right to question me or my motives. I'm not going to let anyone else I love suffer. Not if there's something I can do to stop it. This destructive force inside of me... I didn't ask for it, but you can bet I'm going to use it to my advantage.” The steam simmered out of me with my last word, and I turned away from him.

“Lorelei. I am sorry. Sometimes I forget what you have gone through, and are still going through. I do know your loss. I have felt it myself. You do not live as many years as I have unscathed by its painful strike. Do not think I am against you in your mission. I only question the reason behind your reasons. Is it love or hatred that drives you to seek vengeance? If you were honest with me... with yourself…you would have to admit love and revenge cannot stand together. They are opposites. As opposite as fire and ice." He moved closer. "As opposite as you and I."

“We are opposite. But we're a lot alike. And I know you trust me, at least a little, or we wouldn't be here. So help me, Zanthiel. Help me block the dragon fire from accessing my mind. Help me use all of my powers to fight back.”

He nodded once. “If you can keep me out, then you can keep it out.” He stared deep into my eyes. “You ask if I feel pain. I do, when I look at you. When I watch the struggles you face daily, I feel your pain. I wish I could take it from you, but it's yours to keep for as long as you choose. So, yes, I feel real pain. Because your pain is true.”

I blinked at the depth of his emotion. Under the cool detached exterior of a guy who didn't care hid the heart of one who cared too much.

Pushing it aside, I nibbled my lower lip. “What do you want me to do?”

“I am going to force my thoughts into your mind. You are going to use everything within you to push back and keep me out. Are you clear on what you are going to do? And more importantly, what you are not going to do?”

I rolled my eyes. “Crystal,” I said.

“Good. Now force me from your mind.”

With a pressure and intensity I'd never experienced before, he forced his will onto mine. Before I knew it, I was standing on one leg.

“What are you doing?” I cried, teetering to and fro to maintain my balance.

“I'm inserting my influence over you.”

I had no idea he had this much strength. If he'd ever used it before, without my knowing, there was nothing he couldn't have gotten me to do. My face flushed at the thought.

He tilted his head to the side, his mercurial gaze turning curious. “Whatever could cause such a blush?” His tone was serious, yet the corners of his lips quirked slightly.

“You think this is funny?” I lashed out, “cause it's not.”

“Come on, Lorelei. You are a dark magic priestess, daughter of both fey and witch blood lines.
Fight
. Fight me off.”

I pushed, drawing on the strength I used when I was trying to conceal my thoughts from Adrius. It wasn't enough. Zanthiel switched his command and my body obeyed at will, switching to the other foot. Again I tried to regain my balance while I forced his thoughts from my mind.

After a while I was breathless, ready to collapse.

“No,” he said, reading my thoughts. “You cannot give up. Push harder.”

“I'm pushing as hard as I can,” I shouted.

“Am I making you angry?”

“Yes,” I growled, swaying off-balance. Sweat poured down my back from the oppressive wall of heat surrounding us.

“Use that. Use it to fight.”

I took a deep breath and pushed again, my head grew dizzy, foggy, as my will tangled with his. I tried to force my foot to the ground. It gave a few inches then sprang right back up. “Ugh. This is never going to work.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Perhaps the stakes are not high enough. Take off your clothes,” he said it without a hint of humor.

“What?”

“You heard me. I said take off your clothes.”

“Zanthiel, seriously. This isn't the time or place to mess around.”

His voice hit me like a brick to the head, shattering every thought in my mind. There was a push of power and before I knew what I was doing, my fingers were unlacing my bodice. “Hey, stop,” I shouted.

He shook his head. “Make me stop. Or you will be standing here, fully exposed. On a mountain guarded by a dragon,” he added, as if the thought of being naked in front of him wasn't bad enough.

“This isn't fair. I've had no time to practice this. And you've obviously had centuries to get good at it.”

“I know. That is why you're still undressing.”

My temper flared. “I mean it, Zanthiel, this isn't funny.” I'd finished the last lace on my corset, dropped it to the ground and was untying my bodice. “We have real work to do so cut it out.”

“We will not accomplish anything unless you can do this. It's what you claim to want. Now fight back, or prepare to show me the only side of you I haven't seen.”

As my hands lowered to my skirt, I panicked. That was enough. Something snapped. I almost heard it break. The control he had over my thoughts ricocheted back at him, slamming into him with full force. A second later he was on his backside against a boulder. The stone splintered and cracked under him. A slow grin spread across his face.

I bent over at the waist, huffing from the effort. Every cell felt on fire.

He pushed effortlessly off the rock and walked to me. “Well done. I knew that you had it in you,” he said. Still smiling, he reached down to pick up my corset.

I took it from him with one hand, and slapped him across the face with the other.

“Don't. Ever. Do that. Again.”

I turned and stalked away, putting a few more feet between us. It was for his protection more than anything, because the way I was feeling right now, I might just unleash all of my magic on him and spare the dragon.

“I think you are ready.” He tossed a fruit into the air. Swinging his sword with as little effort as if he was swatting a fly, the blade plunged through the fruit, slicing it clean in half and then quarters before it hit the ground. He peeled back the flesh and handed me a piece.

Fresh waves of panic shot through me, scattering my newly-found nerve to the wind.
I don't think I will ever be ready for this.
But I had to be. So I nodded silently.

“Use everything. Your mind. Your weapon. Your powers. Together they are a mighty force. They exist for you to command them.”

How c
ould
I be sure any of them w
ould
do what I t
old
them to?
I wanted to whine. There was no whining. No going back. I was all in, or we died. If my mind and body couldn't find stronger motivation than that to cooperate, then all the training in the world wouldn't save us.

BOOK: Bittersweet
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