FireDrake (23 page)

Krysta had seen her kind of magic before. Every few generations, a Jinn woman would be able to channel her magic in such a way as to affect each and every male around her. Most thought it a fable, but Krysta knew from firsthand experience how dangerous a magic it really was.

She’d known just such a girl in her clan. The beauty had every man in the clan panting after her, but they protected her as well. She inspired fierce loyalty in every male she met, but that girl’s selfish nature brought hatred from the other women. She brought divisiveness to a clan that had always been fiercely loyal to each other. Finally, the leader decided marriage to a reclusive nobleman would be the best solution. The girl had to be exiled for the good of the clan, but she didn’t mind. She became a Duchess and quickly put her new, rich husband under her spell, along with all the menfolk in his domain.

This Gwen creature didn’t seem selfish in the least, but Krysta was reserving judgment. She would watch and listen closely. She didn’t quite fear losing her bonded mates to the beauty, but she certainly didn’t like the way they watched her. Krysta had only just joined with them. Was she so forgettable that both Drake and Mace would begin ignore her so soon? She almost expected it of Drake, with his rogue’s reputation, but certainly not Mace. He’d always seemed so steady and stable.

Krysta must have frowned as she thought, for suddenly she felt two warm hands grasp both of hers, one on each side. She looked up from her depressing thoughts to find Mace—and Drake—each holding one of her hands, smiling at her in a comforting, loving way.

“She really can’t help it, you know,” Gryffid intruded on the shared moment. Krysta looked to the wizard who watched the retreat of his granddaughter. “It’s her great-grandmother’s power. Each of my grandchildren descended of my brief affair with Luna have been irresistible to humans of the opposite sex. Luna’s magic is of the moon and the tides. She can also tug on the emotions, lust most of all. I’ll admit, she ensnared me for a www.samhainpublishing.com 161

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time.” Gryffid shook his head. “We had a son, Rigel. He had—and still has—his choice of women, but he chose a human mate many centuries ago and when she eventually died, she broke his heart. Gwen is their grandchild. Luna’s influence was strong in the girl so they sent her to me for her own good. I have few humans here on the island and most are impervious to her magic because I have bespelled them so. Rather ironic, that. Using magic to negate magic, eh? But it works.”

They didn’t have time to comment as a group of servants and Gwen herself arrived with a series of steaming platters and dishes. The servants were unlike any people Krysta had ever seen. They were tall, stately beings, with icy blond hair and perfectly chiseled features. They looked human—except for their delicately pointed ears.

They reminded her of Jinn fairytales and her heart sped a pace as she realized she was beholding fair folk!

“We’ll start with this,” Gwen said as she took a seat next to Gryffid, “and the rest of the household will join us shortly. I know the three of you are probably quite hungry after the crossing.” A platter of bread with dipping oils and creamy butter was placed near the three travelers as the fair folk set the tables quickly and efficiently. They made little sound and smiled back when Krysta thanked them. They seemed friendly—not the powerfully scary beings of Jinn legend.

Krysta’s stomach rumbled with hunger as she dug into the delicious breads. Some of the little loaves were black, some brown with spices and seeds of different kinds, but all delicious. She ate as daintily as she could, considering her ravenous hunger, but by the time she looked up, the entire hall was filled with tables, set with plates and platters of all kinds of things. People were filing in—more of the fair folk, for almost every single one had a fair complexion and varying shades of blond hair. They chatted amiably as they went to their tables and Krysta noted more than a few warriors among their ranks.

Nellin walked in behind William and two of the fiercer looking warrior folk, heading straight for their table. William kissed Gwen on the cheek before he took his place on Gryffid’s other side, and Nellin went to his mate, twining her neck with his as he settled 162

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behind Mace. Behind her, the two dragons made an impenetrable wall of protection for the three of them.

“Where did all those other tables come from? And the chairs?” Krysta finally asked, curiosity getting the better of her.

Gryffid’s eyes twinkled. “Magic, my dear.”

Two imposing figures stood at Drake’s side of the table, waiting apparently for introduction. Both were fair folk, but of a more muscular tone than the servants she’d seen. Both wore leathers, and their hair was bound back in the style of warriors.

Drake and Mace stood, as did Krysta. She was a Guardswoman and had been a warrior of the Jinn even before settling in Castleton. The fair warriors were male and female, a matched set. Krysta took the female’s measure while her mates eyed the male, and she found herself filled with respect. These were not frivolous folk, wearing their leathers for show. No, she could tell at a glance, these were true warriors.

Gryffid rose to make the introductions. “My friends, these are my Captains of the Guard, Lilith and Gerrow.”

“Two captains?” Mace asked, cocking one brow in question.

Gryffid laughed. “They are a mated pair. I couldn’t let one outrank the other, now could I? Never let it be said that I was the cause of disharmony among mates.” Both warriors smiled as Gryffid laughed and returned to his seat.

“I’m Drake.” The bard offered a smile and a hand in the way of warriors, close to the other couple as he was. “This is Krysta, Mace, Jenet and Nellin.” The dragons’ heads rose over the backs of their chairs, blinking in acknowledgment.

“Well met,” Gerrow’s voice rolled over them as he bowed briefly to the dragons.

“We were foretold of your coming,” Lilith said from his side, her voice higher pitched and every bit as musical, “but nothing could prepare us to see two such dragons over our island. They are a sight to behold.” The pair took seats at the table and made themselves comfortable.

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As far as Krysta was concerned, the woman was all right. No one could fake the admiration and awe in Lilith’s voice, and anyone who admired Nellin and Jenet had good judgment in Krysta’s opinion.

“We’ve had the pleasure of helping to train young William these past years. We’ll be sorry to see him go.” The male warrior dug into a platter, serving himself from the bounty laid on the table. The others followed suit.

“Then you’re letting him go?” Mace addressed Gryffid.

“Yes, of course, Sir Mace. It was never my intention to keep him indefinitely. I only borrowed him for a few years.” The wizard chuckled but Krysta watched William’s face.

He seemed troubled, though he kept his eyes down and his attention on his plate as the conversation flowed around him.

After the main meal was served, a place was cleared in the middle of the hall and a few of the fair folk brought out instruments. They began with soft tunes while the rest of the hall was cleared, warming up a bit as the last stragglers finished their meals and sweets were laid on each table for those who wished to partake.

Lilith eyed the minstrels then turned to Drake.

“Perhaps you would favor us with a song?”

Her mate, Gerrow frowned. “A bard? I thought he was a knight.”

“Apparently—” Drake raised his eyebrows, “—I’m both.”

Lilith put one hand over her mate’s on the table. “Beloved, don’t you recognize Drake of the Five Lands?”

Gerrow’s fair face flushed. “Forgive me. Is this true? You are the famous Jinn bard?”

“One and the same. Being partnered with Jenet is rather new to me, so your pardon if I don’t quite see myself as a ‘knight’. I have little training in the ways of dragon knights, though I’m hopeful Mace and Nellin won’t mind helping me learn my new role.”

Mace almost cracked a smile as he nodded, though Nellin didn’t stir from where he lay, neck entwined with his mate. The poor creature was besotted with Jenet, and who could blame him?

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“We’ve heard many of your compositions, brought back to us from those who venture off the island from time to time.” Lilith’s eyes sparkled at Drake but Krysta didn’t fear the beautiful woman would even try to turn his head. Lilith and she were equals. Warrior women who understood each other. That much was clear.

Drake looked uncertain. “I doubt I could entertain any better than your people. Fair folk are reputed to have the most beautiful voices in the world. I don’t think I could compete.” A sheepish smile softened his refusal, but Krysta heard the very real doubt in his words.

“What’s this? Drake of the Five Lands, uncertain about his talent?” Gryffid scoffed.

“You’re a natural bard, my boy. Don’t let these blond fools intimidate you. The ones who go abroad all return singing your praises and your songs.” The wizard winked, smiling conspiratorially.

“Well…” Drake actually flushed, color riding his chiseled cheekbones, surprising Krysta, “…if you’re sure. And if someone could loan me an instrument, I’d be happy to give you a song.”

“It’ll be more than one, if I’m any judge.” Gryffid chuckled as Drake stood and made his way to where the minstrels had set up. Krysta watched him go with pride. She knew his reputation was well earned and she had even heard him perform once or twice in the distant past, though she hadn’t heard him recently. She was looking forward to his performance, knowing this time, this special man was hers.

Drake walked the gauntlet of tables filled with fair folk. It was disconcerting to say the least, but their friendly smiles and encouraging looks were familiar. He’d seen just such looks on the faces of patrons the world over. They were eager for entertainment, eager to hear him sing and tell his tales through music. His only job was to not let them down.

He’d never doubted his ability. Not since he was a teen and just learning his skills.

But he doubted now, though he fought not to let it show. The speaking voices of the fair folk had enchanted him. He could only imagine what they sounded like in song. He www.samhainpublishing.com 165

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didn’t think any human could hope to compete with such natural beauty, but he was damned well going to try. He would not bring shame to his own name or to his new family. He would give the finest performance any human bard could give and if he failed to please the fair folk, well, then, he’d given it his best.

The minstrels grinned in welcome and made a place for him at their center.

“I am Zarat,” a darker-haired man introduced himself. He had golden blond hair, not too much lighter than Drake’s own, though his skin tone was much fairer. “I’m honored to meet you. My wife had the good fortune to hear you play once in Helios when you were just a boy. Even then, she was impressed with your music.”

“Thank you,” Drake reached back in his mind for that long-ago trip to Helios. He’d only been about sixteen when his adopted Jinn clan had traveled to that distant land.

Drake hadn’t returned there until just a few years ago, so it must be that first trip of which the man spoke. “Hopefully I’ve learned a thing or two since then.” Drake smiled, making an effort to charm the fair folk who listened to each word he spoke.

“My wife, Margan will be up in a moment. She plays pennywhistle. She’s just gone to fetch it from our home.”

“I look forward to making her acquaintance,” Drake answered politely.

“Which instrument would you prefer, Master Drake?” He swept his arm around the semi-circle of musicians who each held various instruments aloft in a signal they were willing to share with the newcomer. Drake was flattered by their offer. He knew what it was to let a stranger play a beloved instrument made just for you.

“A lute, if you have one. Though I will play anything you wish me to, if you have a preference.”

Drake would come to regret those impulsive words later in the evening as one instrument after another was thrust into his hands, but he took it all in good humor. He started with the lute, checking the tune automatically and marveling at the sweet, mellow tone of the lower string and the sparkling clarity of the upper. This was far and away one of the finest instruments he had ever had the pleasure of holding.

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“My compliments to the luthier,” Drake remarked as he began a few warm-up fingerings and runs. The hall quieted as everyone listened. Drake knew he was the center of attention. He’d been in the position many times before, but this was special somehow.

The air vibrated with waiting. He took his time, limbering up fingers that hadn’t played in days.

When he was sure of himself, he began the introduction to one of his livelier compositions. It was a dance of sorts, though the lyrics told the story of an amorous young man and the fickle maiden who teased him. It sat well in his vocal range and was a particularly good warm-up. He knew he could sing it well, and if they wanted a second song after this, he would be in a good position to try something more challenging.

Drake launched into the lyrics, watching the faces of those around him. Smiles met his gaze, and toes were already tapping. So far, he was getting a good response. It wasn’t just polite humoring, it was genuine enjoyment he read in their unconscious movements, the swaying of the crowd to the beat and the light in their eyes.

He was doing it. He was hitting his stride as the verses went on. At the humorous points in the song, the crowd laughed with him, caught up in the tale as so many had been before. When it came down to it, this audience was much like those he’d known before, just much prettier.

Drake relaxed as the tune ended with a flourish and was met with cheers from the fair folk. Zarat clapped him on the back, encouraging him to play another and Drake complied. This wasn’t so bad, really. He’d been concerned, but it looked like the fair folk did appreciate a rough human voice. For certain, they appreciated his songs. They laughed at all the right places and tapped their toes. Several couples started dancing when he played a lively reel and the other musicians joined in, adding drums, bass, Margan’s pennywhistle for trills and a score of other instruments all blending into a marvelous harmony of sound as the crowd danced.