Fire and Ice (33 page)

I shrank back, feeling self-conscious.

“I'm sure about my feelings for you, Lorelei. But I've had several of your lifetimes to figure out what I want. I know human girls… can be fickle.”

I shot him a look and he quickly added, “I want you to be sure.”

“This… the way I feel about you, Adrius… I've never been more sure of anything. Ever,” I murmured.

His dark gaze scanned my face. “I have to do the right thing. You have no idea how much it kills me to say that, but too many things — your life included — are at risk.”

He feathered his fingertips along my cheek and my eye lids fluttered closed.

“I want you,” he said, his voice low and anguished. Then pulled his hand away and sighed. “But you're not thinking clearly, so I'll have to think clearly for both of us. Especially since you seem to be riding some sort of post-traumatic rush.”

He leaned back, folding his arms behind his head and stared up into the waning sunlight.

I rolled onto my side to face him. Propped up on my elbow, I rested my head in my hand and waited for my erratic heartbeat to return to normal.

“I do feel… different,” I admitted, considering the possibility that this was part of an adrenaline wave. It might have been unusual behavior for me, but it didn't change how I felt. “I can wait as long as you want,” I said. With my hand on his chin, I turned his face toward me, forcing him to meet my gaze. “But my feelings for you are never going to change.”

“And I will hold you to that.” He smiled and his eyes lit up.

It was all I could do not to pull him back into my arms again. But for reasons I didn't fully understand, he was obviously torn and I didn't want to make things more difficult for either of us.

He caressed my forehead. The small gash had all but healed. Perplexed by my ability to heal so rapidly, he ran his thumb along the remnants of a scar.

“I'll try to be good,” I promised, sitting upright. “But I can't guarantee I'll succeed.

“Then you will be you.” He laughed then leaned in and brushed his lips against mine me once more. My breath hitched.

“Humans… so weak,” he mumbled, stroking my cheek quickly before rising to his feet. Extending his hand, I took hold and let him pull me to his side.

“Half human,” I corrected, with a light scowl. “And I can have just as much self-control as you do.” I leaned in and kissed him quickly then pulled away, pretending to be unaffected, as though my body wasn't tingling from head to toe.

His face changed, and he gazed at me. “I think,” he said, and I could hear the strained control in his voice. “That we had better be careful when we do that. Sometimes a brush with near death does strange things to the mind.”

“Okay. I don't want to talk about me anymore. Let's talk about you for a change.”

“Why? You think you've got me all figured out.”

“That's not true,” I said. “I don't know everything about you.”

“You aren't ready to know everything about me.” There was nothing playful about the way he said it. In fact, his expression had become serious.

I dre
w my knees to my chest and took the plunge. “Adrius, tell me about the girl Octãhvia mentioned. Is she the one you're bound to? What was it Octãhvia took from you? My pulse was already racing so the nerves I felt waiting for his reply weren't as noticeable
.

"There is a lot you need to know, Lorelei, but I think we should wait.” I can tell you that once things with Octãhvia have been resolved, we can be together. And…” he paused.

“And?” I prompted.

His olive gaze narrowed. “And… if you're absolutely sure you want this, then we need to do things the right way,” he said, looking me squarely in the eyes.

The right way… what does that mean?
The question was on the tip of my tongue when Tilak reappeared, still grumbling under his breath and wringing out his handkerchief.

“Leave it to a shadow fey to open a porthole ages from where we need to be, and a hair's breadth from a Kraken's cave.”

“Just be grateful he left us an opening, Tilak,” I scolded, feeling a rush of relief surpass my annoyance at his less than perfect timing. “We were lucky he came along when he did.” The second the words were out of my mouth, I regretted it.

Adrius pressed his lips tight and his eyes became suddenly fierce.

“Lorelei, you think that Faerie is your friend… because he saved you? He isn't. He's a demon.”

I cringed at the unusual callousness in his voice.

“You don't know anything about the shadow fey.”

I frowned. “I thought Zanthiel was a winter fey, from the Unseelie Court.”

“He was, until his mother forced him away. The shadow fey are a darker, more malcontent faction of the Unseelie. They form their own armies, allegedly to support all fey in times of war, but for the most part they end up serving only themselves. There is nothing of good in the shadow. Promise me you'll stay as far from him as possible.” Anger simmered in his words.

I wanted to tell Adrius about my dreams. About Zanthiel visiting me night after night for so many years… about how he gave me my special gifts and assured me my father was still alive. But how could I, knowing how he felt about him? He lifted one eyebrow, staring at me, as though waiting for me to agree.

I couldn't… a fact that didn't go unnoticed. I saw the flicker of pain cross his eyes, hinting at things he sensed in me, but didn't fully understand. Things I didn't fully understand.

“If you trust him, you will end up dead … and if you cross him, you'll be enslaved in the underworld of the shadow court. Either way, it won't end well for you,” he said through a clenched jaw, his arms locked across his chest.

“Sounds scary,” I said quietly, trying to make light of things. I smiled but he didn't return it.

“You have
no idea
how scary.”

“Do you know where you're going?” I asked as we sailed through a tunnel of fog.

The gateway to Faery had opened at dawn, like a shimmering door, invisible and yet easily seen by its waves of glamour. I couldn't see anything in front or behind me, and the water beneath our boat felt suspiciously tranquil. Almost as if it wasn't really there at all. If I wasn't so afraid of the answer, I would have asked why. But there was no way I was sticking my hand in the water to test that theory.

“This passage leads to Tir Na Nog, the land of perpetual youth where the faeries of The Summer Court and many of the Sidhe still reside,” Tilak explained.

“The good ones?” I asked. My attention focused on the clouds I was almost certain we were drifting on.

“For the most part. But you are still part human, and there are many things for humans to fear in the land of Faery,” Adrius said.

I tried to imagine what could possibly top the events we'd endured so far. What else
was
there, two headed fire-breathing dragons?

“Even in the Seelie Summer Court, things are never wholly good or evil. Just be careful. There is more to see than can be seen with the eyes. Faerie dust affects the mind's eye… Which can be a lot more dangerous.”

“Or a lot more fun,” Tilak added with a chortle.

Adrius frowned at Tilak. “Seriously, Lorelei, it is not a place to wander off alone. Those who do are often never seen again.” His face shifted, and he stifled a smile. “And I should tell you, my magic is less potent there… so if you could make it through without needing to be rescued this time — that would be great.”

“Now that's rich, coming from you. You might have saved me, but I saved you right back. So now we're even.”

“You think so? Not by my count.”

“If you two are about finished…” Tilak yawned. “…it may interest you to know we have reached our destination.”

We disembarked the boat and headed down a long dock leading away from the shore and into a village. Nothing I had encountered in Mythlandria could have prepared me for the Faery Island of Tir Na Nog. One minute we were floating on a path through the shadowy mists and the next everything was green and turquoise and lush, with salmon sand beaches, all lit from within with a white glow. It was a place defying description. Too star-struck for words, I listened as Adrius kept up his tour guide impersonation, leading us down paths through the iridescent land.

Dove-white winged horses clopped by draped with armored saddles, their manes braided with delicate flowers. Faeries appeared in all sizes, flitting about from one place to another… some tiny enough to fit in my hand, others the size of humans and Elves.

All of them looked youthful, although I knew they probably weren't. Faeries, like the elves, were ageless. A copper-haired boy, who couldn't take his golden eyes off us as we strolled by, could have passed for seventeen, despite the likelihood of being hundreds of years old. They shone with silvery luminescence, different from the elves, whose glow was only faintly golden in the pale morning light.

A girl landed next to me, with long pointed ears and pale pink skin. Her sudden appearance startled me and I moved closer to Adrius, which was probably a good idea considering how unpredictable faeries can be. It's not that they always mean you any harm; it's that if they decide on a whim it'd be cool to pluck out one of your eyes as a keepsake, they'll do it. The pink fey inched toward me, a mischievous and primal gleam in her eyes, but Adrius gave her a look that translated to
don't come any closer
. She gave a sniff then fluttered away.

“How is this happening?” I asked a little breathless, feeling the amazement I felt waking up in Mythlandria all over again.

“The creatures you call mythical have always been fed by the imaginings of humans. As long as they are dreaming, we will always exist,” Tilak said, waving away a flurry of illuminated bluish-white fireflies. “So in a way, the Nevermore's existence is your fault,” he said, jabbing a finger in my direction.

Obviously he felt confident humankind would continue to pass on the legends, myths, and fairytales. I gave it some thought. There was something alluring in those tales. Something seductive that made even the idea of them irresistible. He was probably right. We would continue to indulge in fantasy, blissfully ignorant of what we were unleashing in the Nevermore.

A tiny pixie buzzed next to me, and tugged on my hair before flying off.

“Ow!”

Adrius rolled his eyes and Tilak scoffed. “Don't let those little troublemakers near any of your belongings, unless you don't mind losing them for days on end,” he muttered, patting down his pockets and satchel.

“I'd like to know why everyone in the Nevermore is so beautiful,” I complained, rubbing my head. Among humans, I rated firmly in the midst of average in terms of looks. Every moment here was painfully obvious I barely ranked below average.

Adrius laughed. “Not everyone is. Though I'm sure the trolls would love to hear you think so.” He kept his hand on the small of my back, guiding me past beings both beautiful and grotesque.

“The Sidhe of either Court, are in fact, unspeakably beautiful, every last one. Features vary among the court fey… you'll typically find golden hair in the Seelie Court, black or white in the Unseelie and of course in the wild, a spectrum of everything else.” His gaze shifted to me. “Not that they come close to the beauty of some…”

I felt my face grow warm.

“…But to a mortal, their beauty is capable of piercing the heart, bringing tears to one's eyes, and inspiring endless loyalty and love, or eternal hatred and pain.”

Immediately I thought about Zanthiel's platinum flowing locks. Adrius instinctively knew what I was wondering.

“His mother is the Queen of Air and Darkness. She cast him out of the Unseelie Court to rule over the Shadowlands of Faery.”

“But why, when he was born a Winter Prince…”

“Technically, he still is, only now he resides among the coldest, darkest regions of Unseelie, home to the most malicious and malevolent of fey. They have the power of necromancy, calling forth the spirits of sinners and the unsanctified dead to serve them.”

I tried to picture Zanthiel commanding an army of the undead. It seemed fitting.

“This Dark Army of the fey was meant to serve the will of Faery as a whole, but more often than not winds up serving one monarch or the other… or simply their own. It's this allegiance to no one that makes them so dangerous,” he added pointedly for my benefit.

I stifled a shudder as we continued our trek through the mystical realm.

Rows of moss-coated trees lined each side of our path, their heavy boughs arching over us and meeting in the middle. The way the finger-like branches reached for one another almost looked as though they were holding hands. A sultry breeze whisked by, tossing the low hanging, feathery leaves arched over our heads into disarray.

A slight Faerie with almost translucent skin and heavily veined dragonfly wings spanning out from behind her landed in front of us. My mouth fell open. Until now, I'd only seen Zanthiel's black-feathered wings up close. She was a vision, wild and unkempt, yet gentle and fragile, standing about four feet tall. Wiry straw -olored hair stuck out in every direction, framing a round cherub face with enormous blue eyes.

“Welcome to Tir Na Nog, Lorelei Alundra.” She spoke with the lilt of a five year old. “Queen Titania has been awaiting your arrival.”

“Actually, we have all been awaiting your arrival,” a voice interjected, like the summer breeze rustling the trees.

We turned in unison as someone who could only have been the Faerie Queen of the Summer Court flowed toward us. Adrius, Tilak, and the Faerie child bowed, and I copied them. My last day in art class, I drew a scene from
A Midsummer Night's Dream
and sketched what Titania might look like. This woman was a close living example. Dressed in living things… leaves, vines, flowers, and moss were clinging to her curves, shifting with every move she made, creating the sound of wind rustling through the trees. Her golden, blond hair shimmered with tight spirals reaching her waist, and a tall glistening crown of twigs, berries, and crystals framed her lovely face. She was flanked by two guards, each gripping a Poseidon-like, pitch-forked staff.

“Take some rest, all of you. At twilight, the festivities shall commence and the summer court will be expecting your presence.” Then she searched my face, “And your training begins at dawn, with Amaryllis.” She nodded in the direction of a Faeire, all in yellow from her hair to her eyes to the petals of her dress, who twirled past us and stopped.

“You're late,” she scolded. “It's well past the golden hour!”

Frowning, I looked up at Adrius.

He smirked then leaned in to whisper in my ear. “Faeries can see the color of time, but they'll never tell you what it is.”

I gave a confused laugh.

“Lorelei, this is Amaryllis. She will guide you to recovering your Faerie magic.”

“Um, hi,” I said, awkwardly, wanting to add
good luck with that
.

“Nevermind that now… There's plenty of time for work. Tonight is all about play! Come on, there's much to see,” Amaryllis gushed. She grabbed my hand and dragged me away from the revelry, down a hill of waist high grass, to the sandy shore. “I'll show you where you'll be staying. You'll need to rest up before the fete!”