Dangerously Charming (20 page)

It occurred to her that neither of the men was truly suited for the quiet solitary lives they'd been leading. She wondered where the third brother was and what he was doing; not trying to become a librarian or a monk, she hoped. Apparently fighting off lake monsters and hordes of unpleasant Paranormal creatures had perked them right up.

Unfortunately, it had the opposite effect on her. Jenna spent a quiet moment freaking out that this was her life now. How the hell had this happened? It was bad enough growing up with a faery curse hanging over her head, but now she was actually
in
the land where such people lived, plus all sorts of other frightening beings, many of whom seemed to be coming after her. She squeezed her eyes shut, as if she could shut out reality—or whatever one wanted to call the insanity that was her current existence—and transport herself back to a boring job and a boyfriend who didn't make her heart beat fast.

Then she opened them again and looked across the room at the two handsome brothers who were trying to help her despite their own issues. Suddenly, her situation didn't feel quite so grim. A tiny kick from the region of her navel reminded her that not all the changes were bad ones either.

“Is everything okay?” she asked, sitting up carefully. Her head had stopped spinning and she felt perfectly fine. She
wasn't sure why she'd fainted; shock, maybe, at seeing Mick morph into a giant pale green bear, coupled with an overabundance of pregnancy hormones. She suspected, from the look on his face as he turned in her direction, that Mick found her passing out almost as alarming as she'd found his transformation.

“I think we should ask you that question,” Mick said, coming to squat down next to her. “Are you feeling all right? Are you dizzy? Is something wrong with the baby?”

Gregori followed him over and peered into her eyes. “Have you ever passed out before? Is this a recurring problem?”

Jenna brushed them both off with a smile. She wasn't used to being fussed over, and it was kind of sweet. “I'm fine,” she said. “And no, I don't have a habit of fainting, but then I've never had a magically accelerated pregnancy before. Maybe this is normal for one of those.”

Mick took a couple of steps back. “It would probably help if I didn't keep scaring the daylights out of you,” he said in a grim tone.

“Since you always seem to be running to my rescue when you're doing it, I think I can probably forgive you,” she said lightly. She wished she could honestly tell him that he didn't frighten her, but in truth, seeing him like that, and knowing that he could turn into whatever the heck that was at any moment, made it hard not to be on edge around him. And he knew it. That fact made her feel sad and guilty, but she didn't know what to do to change it. She just knew she had to. Maybe she needed to find some different way to think of the experience.

“Is that thing that came out of the lake gone?” she asked, both to alter the topic of conversation and because she wanted to know if she needed to be prepared to jump up and run for her life at any moment.

“Rather permanently,” Gregori said, not without satisfaction. “Although it is going to be quite the task to dispose of the remains.” He looked thoughtful. “I wonder if it is edible.”

Mick made gagging noises. “It would probably go perfectly with that toxic liquid you call tea,” he teased. Jenna was happy to see that he and his brother seemed less uncomfortable around each other than they had. Apparently the family that fights together stays together. At least in this case.

Gregori ignored him. “There is also no sign of Zilya's minions, but I doubt this will be their last attempt.”

“They know we're here,” Mick said, placing the saddlebags containing her grandmother's journals by the door. “We can't stay. But it seems as though they can track us down somehow; I don't understand it.”

Gregori rolled up the parchment he'd been writing on and tied it with a scrap of leather. “I believe I do,” he said. He pointed at Jenna's ever-more-prominent belly.

“What? She's tracking me?” Jenna said. “But how?”

“Not you,” Gregori clarified. “Your child. I think it is likely that because of the curse, Zilya has some kind of magical connection to your unborn baby. Through that connection, she can follow your movements—like a needle pointing to north on a compass.”

Mick's expression was grim. “That means we'll have to keep moving so she can't keep up. Clearly Zilya has no intention of losing that child.”

Gregori nodded in agreement. He held up the medallion dropped by the creatures who had attacked Jenna. “I cannot be sure, but I suspect that this is a talisman designed to remotely activate Zilya's claim. If they had been able to place it over your head, the baby would have belonged to her.” He dropped it into a leather drawstring bag and tucked it into a side pocket of the saddlebags. “You had better hang on to this.”

“But the Queen made Zilya promise to leave me alone until the baby is born,” Jenna protested.

“No doubt she is trying to get around that vow by having someone else act in her stead,” Mick said. “Remember, you're
in the Otherworld now. Faeries are tricky and bound by rules only if they can't figure out a way to get around them.”

His expression grew more forbidding. “Hopefully, if we can keep moving, anyone or anything she sends after us will always be one step behind. But once the baby is born and you reach the deadline the Queen set for you to have solved the riddle, nothing will stop Zilya from laying her claim.” His lips tightened as he looked at Jenna's growing baby bump. “Unfortunately, it looks like we won't have nearly as much time as we'd thought, since the Otherworld is having this unexpected effect on your pregnancy. At this rate, we'll be lucky to have weeks instead of months.”

Jenna blinked rapidly, trying not to cry. She realized they'd never had a chance to tell him about the experiment she and Gregori had done.

“I know,” she said. “Your brother had some kind of magical healing elixir his mother gave him. We used it while you were gone. He thinks it might help the baby's progress go back to normal.” She placed both hands over her womb, as if she could beg the child inside to wait, slow down, stop growing so fast. “At least for a little while. But he couldn't be sure.”

Mick took a cautious step closer, clearly torn between wanting to comfort her and being afraid of alarming her with his nearness.

“Do you want me to take you back to your own world?” he asked. He didn't sound as happy about the prospect as she would have expected. “Once you're back there, the pregnancy will probably go back to its normal pace.” He looked at his brother for confirmation and Gregori nodded.

Jenna thought about it for a minute and then shook her head. “That doesn't really gain us anything, does it? Yes, I'd have more time, but we came here because that's where we think the answers are. What good would it do me to gain months if at the end of them I'm not any closer to solving the riddle?” She patted her belly again. “I feel fine, and the baby
feels fine, and unless I can find this key we're looking for, all I would be accomplishing would be putting off the inevitable. I'd rather be here, actually
doing
something.”

“In that case,” Gregori said, gazing at her with approval, “this might be of some help.” He held up the scroll of parchment paper. “I have come up with a list of three different magical keys, each of which I believe to be located somewhere in the Otherworld, and whose properties might make sense within the context of your riddle.”

“What do you mean?” Jenna asked, standing up with a slight wobble.

“All of these keys have something to do with the gods,” Gregori said. “So they might fulfill the line that says, ‘a magic key to a gift divine.'” He handed the scroll to her with a graceful bow. “I have included a small map as well. I hope it turns out to be helpful, Jenna. I have been most charmed to make your acquaintance.”

She leaned forward and hugged him briefly, mindful of his steadfast dignity. “Thank you for everything,” she said.

“Not at all. You brought my brother back to me. For that alone I would have been pleased to be of assistance.” He gave her that gentle smile that so lit up his otherwise serious countenance. “Plus, of course, I like you.”

He turned to Mick, and the two exchanged a short hug of their own. To Jenna's eyes it still seemed stilted and a little uncomfortable on both sides, but it was a vast improvement over their demeanor toward each other when she and Mick had first arrived.

“Keep her safe, Mikhail,” Gregori said. “I believe that while the two of you seek out the first key, I shall return to court and attempt to speak to the Queen and King about Zilya. I doubt it will do much good, but with the Queen, one never knows. Once I have finished that errand, I will try to catch up with you later.”

Her heart swelling with gratitude, Jenna thanked him. “I
really appreciate it, Gregori, but I feel terrible about interrupting your retreat.”

Gregori's expression didn't change in any notable way, but Jenna could see the sadness in his eyes.

“It does not matter,” he said softly. “It was doing me no good anyway.”

DAY
lifted Jenna onto Krasivaya's broad back and swung up into the saddle behind her. It was impossible to keep his body from touching hers, under the circumstances, which was both a pleasure and a trial. Plus, of course, he knew it must be torture for her, feeling as she did about him now that she'd seen what he was becoming. He could just imagine her cringing inside as his legs wrapped around the outside of hers.

“I'm sorry,” he said quietly. “If there were any other way for us to get there quickly, I would choose one that didn't force you to be so close to me. Are you okay?” He wouldn't blame her if she wasn't. After all, what woman would want to be traveling through a strange land with a man who turned into a bear—or worse—at a moment's notice?

Jenna was quiet for a minute, clearly thinking before giving him an answer. He held his breath, hoping that she wasn't going to tell him that she'd changed her mind about going back to the Human lands.

It had already occurred to him long before this that he
could take her home and continue the search for the mystery key or keys on his own in the Otherworld, but he hadn't suggested that option to Jenna. In part, it was because he was concerned for her safety; if she was on her own it would be too easy for either Zilya's minions or the thugs her idiot ex-boyfriend had sent after her to capture her. But doubtless, Gregori would have been willing to take on the task of guarding her. If Day had been willing to give it up.

That was the real reason he hadn't suggested it. The reason he hadn't even wanted to admit to himself. He wanted her around.

Oh, he knew that as soon as the riddle was solved and her baby was saved, Jenna would be on her way. She tolerated his presence now because it was necessary, an evil only slightly less frightening than all the others she faced. Not to mention that she had a life of her own, one that didn't involve Paranormal weirdness and men who had no idea how to have anything that resembled a normal relationship.

Not that he wanted a relationship, of course. That would be absurd. But that didn't mean he was ready to give up being with Jenna, soaking up the glorious brightness that was her spirit, enjoying the swings she made from gentleness to fierceness and back again. Not yet. Not yet.

He was almost grateful when her voice jarred him from his disconcerting thoughts, although he braced himself to hear what she would say.

To his surprise, she turned around and gave him a brief smile before facing forward again. “I've been thinking,” she said, speaking slowly as if choosing her words with care.

“Have you?”

“I have. I realized I'm not afraid of you anymore.” She leaned back against his chest a little more, relaxing into his hold. Day was so startled, he almost dropped the reins. Not that it would have mattered, since Krasivaya pretty much steered herself, once he pointed her in the direction he wanted. Still, it would have been embarrassing.

“You're not?” he said, not quite believing her. “That doesn't seem likely, given the way you feel about the Paranormal world.”

Jenna gestured at the lands they were passing through at the moment, a gentle rolling hillside covered with brilliant poppy plants as high as the horse's withers in vivid shades of crimson, violet, and lapis blue. In the distance, a pair of young Pegasus flew figure eights through the lavender-tinged sky.

“It's not all bad,” she said. “You have to admit that the scenery can be pretty glorious.”

Day looked down at the silky fall of her hair and the gentle curve of her body tucked into the saddle in front of him. “Yes, it certainly can be,” he said. “But I don't see how the beautiful scenery makes me any less scary.”

“Oh, you're still scary,” Jenna said with a tiny laugh. “But you're
my
scary.”

“Huh?” He was definitely missing something here.

Jenna patted his large hand with her smaller one, and then left it there, the paleness of her skin a pleasing contrast with the darker tan shade of his own.

“It finally came to me that the only times I've ever seen you change into . . . well, whatever it is you become, were when you were coming to my defense. Other than that, you've never been anything other than kind and gentle with me. Okay, and crabby and rude, but I think I understand that better now.”

Day shook his head, knowing she couldn't see it. “I'm glad you do,” he said in a short tone. “Because I don't understand anything at all anymore.”

*   *   *

A
few mornings later, as they neared the first place marked on Gregori's parchment map, Day unraveled the scroll his brother had given him and peered again at the tiny, precise, flowing script. “Huh,” he said. “Apparently we're looking for something called ‘Merlin's Key.' Have you ever heard of it?”

Jenna shook her head, causing the silk of her hair to flutter across his arm in an absurdly distracting way. “I don't think so. I've heard of Merlin, of course. I always loved the stories about him and King Arthur.” She sighed. “I know that historians mostly think Arthur was a myth, or at best a conglomeration of a number of kings who ruled back in the day, but I always wished that he and Merlin were real.”

Day rolled his eyes. Humans. They had such short memories. “Of course they were real,” he said. “Although Merlin was actually a powerful faerie who spent a lot of time messing around in the Human world when he wasn't supposed to. Eventually, the Queen lost patience and locked him up in a crystal cave. For all I know, he's still there. Too bad; he was actually very nice, as faeries go. A little too fond of creating chaos and chasing nymphs, but amazingly powerful, and I think he mostly had good intentions.”

Jenna twisted around, her icy blue eyes wide and amazed. “Seriously? Merlin was real? What about King Arthur? Did you ever meet him?”

“Once or twice. Huge guy, red hair, needed to bathe more, but, hell, they all did back then.” Day thought for a minute. “He really did have charisma, in that rare way you see only once in a generation in a true leader. Didn't say much, but man, could he fight. Even Alexei was impressed, and that's really saying something.”

“Wow. That's so cool.” She chewed on her lip. “And the romance between Guinevere and Lancelot that broke up the kingdom? Was that true too?”

Day laughed out loud. “Oh, hell no. Lancelot was incredibly handsome and charming, but he didn't have any interest in the queen. He was more of a man's man, if you know what I mean. No, Arthur and Guinevere never had eyes for anyone other than each other. It all just fell apart because of war and politics, like so many other ideal societies before and since. Although by then Merlin was out of the picture, so that probably didn't help.”

“Does Gregori think this key of Merlin's is something magical? He said all the keys had something to do with the gods, but if Merlin was from the Otherworld, that doesn't make a lot of sense.” Jenna twisted back around and shifted in the saddle a little, trying to get comfortable. The baby hadn't shown any more signs of unusually rapid growth since they'd left Gregori's hut, for which she was grateful, but she clearly still wasn't used to having a bump where her flat belly used to be.

They'd been on the road—or path, or whatever—for a couple of days. But at least they should be getting close. There were more odd-looking houses scattered about the landscape, their shapes somehow distorted from what a Human would be used to: too big or too small or too slanted, their colors bright and cheerful in the unnatural brightness. The occasional tilled field planted with mostly unrecognizable fruits and vegetables or inhabited by six-legged cattle broke up the space in between.

“Depends on which god, doesn't it?” Day said. “But, in fact, Arthur converted to Christianity in his later years, after being born and raised a pagan. According to what Gregori has written down here, Merlin gave him this key and told him it was a symbol of divine power. He probably just never bothered to mention to Arthur
which
divine power. Sneaky old fae.”

“If he gave it to Arthur, how did it end up back in the Otherworld?” Jenna asked.

“Who knows? Maybe some Paranormal creature stole it and brought it back here after Camelot fell. Or before. The worlds weren't as separate then, remember, and lots of magical folks are attracted to shiny or valuable objects.”

He lifted one hand and pointed at a tall, crooked house directly ahead. “I think this is it. Gregori said to look for a cottage trying to be a castle, and this certainly fits the bill.” He blinked, trying to take it in. Whoever lived there should ask his decorator for a refund.

The house was one story high, but its proportions were all off, so it looked very tall and yet somehow squat at the same time. Something that was trying to be a crenellated tower hung off one side, and there was only one window at the front, set crookedly over an oval door set into a crumbling stone exterior. The stone was a jumble of variegated hues, which didn't add to either its beauty or its dignity, and there was a crude attempt at a moat dug right in front of the entrance that had turned into a mud pit. A pair of wide splintery planks took the place of a drawbridge.

“Well, that's . . . colorful,” Jenna said.

“That's one word for it,” Day agreed, helping her to dismount. “I'd say we've got someone here who was around on the other side during Arthur's time and still thinks of it fondly. Either that, or his mother read him some very strange bedtime stories.”

Before they could walk up to the door, it was yanked open with a loud creaking noise and a deep voice yelled out, “Go away.”

“Oh, good,” Day said in a cheerful voice. “It sounds like he's friendly.”

Jenna stuck out her tongue at him, and then turned back toward the house/castle. “Hello? Could we talk to you for a minute, please? We don't want any trouble, I promise.”

“Speak for yourself,” Day muttered under his breath. He had a pretty good idea who (or what) lived there.

Sure enough, the creature that came thumping out across the erstwhile drawbridge was large, wide, and ugly as a bad date on the morning after. In short, a troll. It had a blobby snout of a nose, lanky hair that fell into its tiny, beady black eyes, and sharp snaggly teeth that seemed to go every which way inside its gaping mouth. It wore a ragged shirt and a loincloth, with a rusty but still dangerous-looking sword hanging from a moldy leather belt around its waist.

“What the hell
is
that?” Jenna whispered, clutching Day's
arm as it came closer, twitching its nose in the air. Trolls had lousy eyesight but a very good sense of smell.

“Rider,” it said in a hoarse voice as soon as it got close enough to recognize at least one of its visitors. “And dinner?”

Jenna squeaked but gamely held her ground.

“Not dinner,” Day said firmly. “My friend Jenna. She is under my protection. And that of the Queen.”

The troll grunted, in acceptance or disappointment, it was impossible to tell.

“What does Rider want?” it asked.

He debated going into the entire
I'm not a Rider any longer
speech, but decided it would be wasted on the troll. It was best to stick to the basics with such folks.

“We're looking for something called ‘the Key of Merlin,'” Day said. “Do you know of it?”

The troll spat something green and viscous onto the ground. “I know it. It is mine. You go away now.”

Day sighed. It wasn't as though he'd really expected the Key's owner, whoever it had turned out to be, to just hand it over without a protest. But this would have been a lot easier if it had been in the possession of something cute and cheerful, like a sprite. A sprite he could have bargained with. Something told him that dealing with the troll wasn't going to be that simple.

Jenna started to open her mouth, but he put one hand warningly on her arm. “I know you like to handle everything yourself,” he said. “And I respect that. But I am a lot more familiar with this land and its denizens, and how things work. So let me deal with this one, if you don't mind.”

She hesitated, and then reluctantly nodded and stepped back.

Would miracles never cease?

“I have need of the object called ‘the Key of Merlin,'” Day said in a formal tone. “I am willing to fight for it. What are your terms?”

The troll stuck one blunt finger into its nostril and dug around for a moment as it thought. “Challenge of wits,” it said finally. “Very traditional. You win, I give you Key. I win, I kill you.”

Jenna let out a muted protest, but Day ignored her. “I win, I get the Key. You win, I give you my magical steed.”

This time there was nothing subdued about Jenna's response. “Mick! You can't!”

He didn't have time to tell her that Krasivaya could take care of herself, so he just concentrated on the bargaining. As the troll said, it was traditional.