Falling for Forever (18 page)

"What are you doing down here?" he hissed from somewhere in front of her. She could just barely make out his sinister shape in the flickering torchlight.

"I thought you might like some company," Bryn replied in the steadiest voice she could manage.

"Oh," was all he said.

Her gaze traveled behind her, to the rows of bookshelves in the other room. Her curiosity was insatiable, and within a matter of minutes, she was flipping through a leather bound book. As she skimmed the pages, she came back to the room where Ceylon stood waiting for her.

"Find anything of interest?" he asked. Bryn shrugged and focused on the words, trying to read them. A slight smile crossed Ceylon's lips as he saw her struggling. "You're trying too hard."

She looked up at him. "What?"

"You're trying too hard. It should be natural. You're making too much of it."

Bryn ignored him and focused harder. 

Ceylon sighed and rolled his eyes. "Give it here," he growled impatiently. Bryn handed over the book and sat down across from him, watching him expectantly as he began reading out loud to her.

"Somehow I doubt that I will ever be able to read these," Bryn said mournfully as she glared down at the tattered piece of parchment in her hands hours later. Although it had been a long time, the torches were still brightly lit. When she had commented on this, Ceylon had said that it was because of magic and went back to reading from the book in his shadowy hands. He seemed to be almost as interested as her in what they had to say. Bryn had considered, briefly, if letting him see the books and scrolls that Mariah kept in the chamber was the right thing to do or even safe, but in the end she had brought them in for Ceylon to see.

Now, hours after that decision, they sat together on the floor with neatly stacked piles of books and scrolls all around them. She had also brought out a few small processions, nothing more than trinkets really to someone as uneducated in the ways of magic as her, but she knew that they must mean something to Mariah. At present, she twirled a small blue jar in her hands. The detail on it, down to each delicately carved leaf, was exquisite. There was a liquid inside of it, thicker than honey and smelling of cinnamon.

Bryn didn't dare taste it, although Ceylon had suggested that she might like it. They had formed a sort of friendship in these long hours, but neither of them dared admit it.  Ceylon was evil, but Bryn also pitied him and felt some fraction of care for him. Although he had remained coarse with her, there were few in the world that could resist anyone with Strytas blood.

"Perhaps your people could help you learn," Ceylon offered softly as he turned another page of the book he was absorbed in. She nodded and continued trying to read. Bryn wasn't sure which people he was referring to, but she doubted that they would be able to help. "Try sounding it out," he suggested as he saw her struggle over a line.

"Over the cen… centur…" Bryn started, growling quietly to herself as she strained to make sense of it. There was a soft sweep of cloth as she made room for Ceylon beside her. He looked over her shoulder, his chin against her neck. His form was cold, sending shivers along her spine, but she didn't pull away.

"Centuries," he said, pointing to the word that had given her trouble.

Bryn nodded and continued reading. "Over the centuries, there have been many names given to…" Her voice trailed off as the words became smeared beyond recognition.

"You would think," Ceylon said, noticing her disappointment at the smudges, "that with all Mariah's power and money, she could afford books that were actually readable."

Bryn gave him a slight smile and put the book down, moving to another one in the pile. This one was in a language that she didn't recognize, but she still tried to read it.

"Elvish," Ceylon said with more than a hint of disgust. "Vile creatures that think only of themselves and their precious forests."

"Mariah likes them," she replied softly.

"Yes well, she would, wouldn't she?"

Bryn chuckled softly and turned the pages until she had reached the end and put the book aside. She turned to Ceylon, curiosity sparkling in her eyes. "How long have you known Mariah?" she asked.

 Ceylon was slightly taken aback by her question but grinned anyway. "A very long time," he replied in a pained whisper as if the memories hurt him to remember.

"Did you know her when she was… well…" she frowned, unable to make herself say the word.

"Evil?" Ceylon said for her. She quickly nodded and stretched out on the cold stone, her hands crossing over her stomach. "Yes, I knew her when she was evil. She was much nicer then."

"She was?"

 Ceylon nodded and caught her gaze. "Would you like me to tell you a story about Mariah?"

She smiled quickly and asked, "Could you?"

"Many, many years ago," he began softly, his voice taking on the quality of an experienced storyteller, "I met a woman named Mariah Sawyer. Mariah was young then, barely older than you are now. There wasn't anything exceptional about her, other than her understanding of all things magical. Wherever she learned to use her gift, they taught her very well. But as I heard it, she got tired of healing and all other good magic. There wasn't enough power there for her. So in her greed, she turned to black magic and all the wonders that it possesses. Needless to say, she was very good at it and enjoyed using it. The Mariah that you know now is a very different person than the woman I met so long ago. Back then, she wouldn't have thought twice about killing you, especially since you have so much good in you. It wouldn't have even been a question; you would have been dead." He paused as he saw Bryn tremble slightly. "Do you wish me to continue?"

Unable to bring herself to speak, she merely nodded.

"Mariah went around slaying all that was good. If there was even a hint of good around her, it would be dead within the span of a thought. And she wasn't just content with humans. Unicorns, forest sprites, and so many others fell to her wrath."

"Strytas too?" Bryn squeaked.

"Yes, even Strytas. Mariah murdered hundreds of Strytas. And we were all very proud of her for it."

Bryn nodded and wiped the back of her hand across her eyes. "So what happened?" she asked.

"What?"

"Well, she's good now. If she enjoyed it so much, then why is she good?"

 Ceylon's gaping hole of a mouth twisted into a grimace. "Jasmine."

"She convinced Mariah to give it up?" Bryn asked as she sat up. Her hair was a tousled mess, and she tried desperately to fix it as they spoke.

"That girl?" Ceylon laughed. "She couldn't convince Mariah to change her shirt if it was soaked in blood."

"Then what did she have to do with Mariah being good again?"

"She died." Bryn nodded and he continued. "When she died, Mariah decided to go back to good and give up everything that she had learned. If you ask me, it was a very stupid decision."

"But they cared about each other," she protested. "Mariah must have been deeply hurt when she was murdered."

"Yes, but that doesn't mean that she should have given up everything, now does it? You don't give up a great cause just because of one little casualty. She was expendable, just like so many of the other wives."

"There were more women in this sort of marriages?"

 Ceylon chuckled and nodded. "Hundreds more. All are dead now, of course. They were all human after all."

"Did others care for their wives like Mariah did?" she asked.

"If they did, they weren't supposed to. Most women actually ended up killing their wives after a few years."

"Why would they kill them?"

"People grow bored with seeing the same person every day. Haven't you ever noticed that?"

Bryn had, of course, but she didn't say it out loud. Most of Franklin's friends had been married, but sharing a bed with someone else was altogether different than murder. "Did Mariah ever grow bored with Jasmine?"

"I doubt it. Mariah was busy too much to do anything about it if she did. I would guess that she grew bored with Mariah. What's the use of a wife that you never see?" Ceylon said with a wicked smile. "Speaking of which, how often do you see Mariah?"

"Enough," she replied quickly before turning the questions toward something that didn't directly involve her. "Wouldn't Jasmine be too afraid of Mariah killing her if she slept with another woman?"

"Probably. You'd have to ask her yourself though. I barely ever spent time with the woman. She got on my nerves too easily."

"She did?"

"Oh yes. She was always talking. Or if she wasn't talking, she was being too quiet. Mariah seemed to care for her, so I didn't say anything. Mariah seems to like her women chatty," Ceylon added with a meaningful look in her direction.

Bryn's nose scrunched up and she nodded. She rose to her feet quickly and brushed off her gown. "Fine, I will leave you then."

"You may stay. Just… being down here for so long with only the traitor for company would make anyone a little grouchy."

"Why do you call Mariah 'the traitor'?" Bryn asked as she leaned against the wall.

"Mariah turned her back on us all to go back to a world that only exists in her head," Ceylon spat angrily. "Why do you think that wall is up? To protect her adorable little forest animals? Well, it's not. Mariah put that wall up to block out the rest of the world. Mariah's hiding here like a hermit, afraid to come out and face the men she betrayed. Mariah's a coward and a liar, and—"

 Ceylon was cut off quickly as Bryn stuck him across the face, her nails digging painfully into his shadowy form. Golden streaks ran like scratches across his face where she had touched him. "You will not speak of Mariah like that," she growled.

"I will speak of Mariah however I wish, little Strytas, and if you ever so much as touch me again, I will kill you."

Bryn's gaze narrowed harshly and she stormed into the other chamber, only to return seconds later with a small sash in her hand. She dipped a few fingers into the sash, and as she pulled them out, Ceylon's eyes widened. The golden unicorn powder was thick on her fingertips and before he could back away, she reached up and closed a fist around his neck, sending him instantly to his knees from the pain.

"You will not speak of Mariah like that," she softly said darkly, her eyes catching his and holding them. Bryn stroked a golden thumb over the demon's neck causing him to howl in agony. "And, if you ever threaten me again, I will be happy to destroy you Ceylon. I am not a slave or a coward. Not anymore, and I will have your respect. By force if I have to. Do I make myself clear?"

The creature whimpered pitifully as she continued to hold him, closing her fist even tighter around his neck as she spoke. Rage like she had never experienced before had taken hold of her, quickly overcoming her with emotion. She neither thought about nor cared what she was doing to him. The only thing that mattered was that Ceylon had to be made to pay for what he had said about Mariah. As her anger subsided, her fingers slipped from his neck, allowing Ceylon to collapse in a trembling heap on the floor. Something had snapped inside of her, and it was that more than what she had done that scared her.  Ceylon watched her with glistening eyes as she clumsily gathered up Mariah's belongings and put them in the other room. Bryn was still shaking violently as she stumbled up the ladder and disappeared into the bedroom.

With her heart still beating wildly in her chest, Bryn emerged from the cabin. A thin sheen of sweat covered her skin, glowing softly in the pale moonlight. A soft breeze blew stray strands of hair across her face. Bryn looked up at the full moon, a sense of mourning slowly coming over her. Nights like this always made her miss the friends she had lost along the way. But crying over them now would accomplish nothing. It was a warm night, making her walk through the fields a peaceful one. The light breeze pulled strands of her long hair across her face.

 Ceylon's words reverberated through her mind, sending chills down her spine. She didn't want to believe him and willed herself not to. Bryn knew that his story was entirely possible, but she also knew that she loved Mariah. She knew who she would believe.

Bryn continued walking, her mind clear of any doubt.

It surprised Bryn how at ease she felt in this place. Never before had she felt so calm, so at peace, so vulnerable. And for the first time in her life, she didn't mind the openness of allowing herself to relax. A form of innocence long since lost to her had been regained in this untouched forest. Being in this place with Mariah made her feel somehow more alive, like a part of her had been hiding since that day when she was thirteen. He made her feel renewed and happier than she had been in years. Within minutes, she had traveled deep in the forest, much further than she had ever gone before.

Her long white dress and wings glowed in the pale moonlight Bryn looked around at the ancient trees, a mixture of admiration and respect coming over her. She had never stopped to look at trees before, not really at least. Sage had been trying to teach her about nature, but in her youth she had been too busy to pay much attention. Now, as a gentle calm swept over her, she was able to appreciate what he had known all along. She could feel his presence all around, warming her to her toes. But more than him, she felt Mariah. Like a strong breeze, she was all around her, infecting her with a feeling that she couldn't quite put a finger on.

It was love, but at the same time it was so much deeper than that. She respected Mariah, cared for her, and knew that in her heart she wanted to be with her forever if she would allow it. What she wanted more than anything was to see her face, hear her voice, feel her touch. Things that she had taken for granted seemed to mean the difference now. The very world seemed to have changed. It pulsated with the same need that surged through her.

Bryn came abruptly to the banks of the river, or rather, a narrow stream that branched off the river. After a quick scan of the surrounding trees and seeing no one there, she removed her gown and waded into the water. At its deepest point, it barely touched her thighs, but that was enough for what she needed. She lay down in the stream, letting the unusually warm water wash over her. She tilted her head back, letting the water flow over her face and hair. Water had always offered her a place to relax and collect her thoughts. Even when she had been living with Franklin, even he would respect her privacy long enough for her to enjoy a bath.