The Castrofax (14 page)

He rolled to his side and flicked his paws. A
moment later he returned to his human form, pulling what few fibers
there were in the area to form a pair of shorts. She looked him
over quickly, surprised he had changed. He was ever appealing with
a body honed by labor. He had a strong chest, a flat stomach with
the faint outline of muscle underneath, and his arms and legs were
powerful. Despite having thick hair atop his head, the rest of him
was smooth.

“I am coming with you,” he said with a
nervous look in his eyes. “My kind can come find me with you if
they are in need.”

“Yes, but you need to be with your kind, so
you can find a Mage lady to marry, so you can strengthen—”

“Highness,” he said deeply. It was the word
he used when he heard enough, and she knowingly snapped her jaw
shut. “I will make my own decisions, and I choose to stay with
you.”

“Very well.”

“Anything else you’d like to drop on me while
I have a voice?” he asked, and she shook her head. He reached his
left hand out and gave her knee a pat. For a moment she saw a faint
white scar on the soft underside of his wrist. He nodded and
transformed back into a tiger and made his way across to the slain
badger. Taking it in his maw he returned to her, and once she freed
the arrow she hopped back on his shoulders.

He loped to the cottage to return before the
sun set. There was enough time to skin the creature and build a
fire outside. Quietly she mixed biscuits inside and watched him
cook the meat over the coals. Robyn wondered if he was still mad,
but he sat back and stared into the flames like he always did.
‘
Men never hold grudges. They’re such strange
creatures.’

When she filled the pan with rolled dough,
she stepped outside and set it in the coals. He continued to stare
into the fire, lost to the flames. She set some potatoes on the
edge of the coals and sat back across from him. Behind him the
chickens milled about chattering.

They had the sort of relationship where
everything that needed to be said already had, and anything else
could be communicated without words. It was a quiet and peaceful
atmosphere. She knew him well enough to know he preferred silence
and would only speak if it was important. She knew his routine,
moods, and facial expressions better than anyone, yet it still felt
as though he held her at arm’s length and would not fully let her
into his comfort. As if on cue, he looked up with an expectant and
hungry expression.

“Give it a few more minutes,” she
smirked.

She watched him for a while, remembering the
hardships they had been through. When her handlers took too much of
her identity to make the prefect heiress, he bore her into the
countryside ever cognizant of her mood. In turn she learned to read
his tiniest expressions, and when he needed her most, she was
there.

Back when he was nineteen, after his three
year stint in Jaden, Robyn broke through his defenses and saw him
for the vulnerable boy he was. That night they became more than
house companions. She had ventured to his rooms looking for a book
of hers. She knocked, and no one answered, so she let herself in.
That’s when she saw him. Daylight was still upon them and cast a
yellow tint to his washroom. Gabriel sat on the floor, slumped with
his arms over the marble bath built into the wall. When she called
him, he did not respond.

Running to him she discovered he had slit his
left wrist solidly a quarter of the way down his forearm. Blood
dripped from his wound into the tub, and by the looks of it, he had
been bleeding for awhile. A short silver knife lay in the tub
mingling with the ruby blood.

He was unconscious and pale. She grabbed his
wrist and laid him down on his back, propping his boots on the tub.
She bound the wound after inspecting the cut. It was not enough to
damage his tendons. She remembered sitting on the floor with him,
stroking his black hair that looked so much darker against his pale
skin.

His eyes fluttered open and his pale lips
parted. He tried to reach out with his left hand, but she kept it
securely against her chest. It was then he saw her. She asked for
no explanation, and he closed his eyes, covering them with his free
hand in shame.

“You’re not allowed in my rooms,” he finally
said, his voice void of its usual energy. She knew that was true.
She desperately wanted to know why he tried to kill himself, but
she did not press for fear of losing control of the situation.

“I did not know you wished for death,” she
whispered. He tried to pull his hand free, but she held tightly.
“What is so terrible you would wish to leave your good life?”

He fixed his blue eyes on her, his lips ready
with a retort, but he saw the sincerity on her face. “There is so
much…energy
everywhere
,” he replied. “The Elements pull at
me from every direction. The power is so great it weighs me down.
No Mages understand because they have so little power, and no one
knows how high-Classed Mages handled it.”

“Are you so much more powerful than they
are?” she asked, unaware.

He looked at her to see if she was mocking
him. He snapped the fingers of his right hand, and a flame appeared
on his thumb. “The Elements can only be used if the energy source
is available. I should not be able to do this.” He let the flame
die. “I don’t know how to handle this power, and no one knows how
to help me. I can’t take it.”

She knew he could not heal himself, and with
no Spirit Mage around, there was no one trained to mend the wound.
She sent for the seamstress, paid for her silence, and had the
woman stitch him up. Together they hid the wound and found ways to
hide the scar. It had faded to nearly blend in with his skin, being
misconstrued as a shadow of a tendon.

While memories of that day still made her
sad, the event strengthened their relationship. After seeing how
vulnerable he truly was, she was able to understand him. As the
years passed, she kept his secret and strengthened their
friendship. He grew to trust her. She did not know if he was still
so burdened, but he seemed to have a better handle of his power. If
he was ever pushed to the edge of suicide, he did not show it.

“You are burning my biscuits,” his voice said
and snapped her from her thoughts. He had already stood and pulled
the pan from the coals.

“Let us come to a compromise,” he said after
a while. “These animals won’t fetch much at market, so let us
butcher them, and when they are gone, we will head back to Anatoly
City.”

“That is reasonable.” She wondered how much
Anatoly City had changed in nearly ten years. She looked forward to
molding it back to its former glory under her mother’s rule. With
Gabriel she could make her plans reality. She smiled at him, and he
gave a little glare. “Enjoy your freedom now.”

Robyn woke to find that Gabriel had killed
and skinned the goat. He strung it up to drain and tacked the skin
to the ground, scraping it with a sharp knife to begin the tanning
process. He was stripped to the waist to avoid getting blood on his
white shirt, and sure enough watery blood slimed his hands.

“Eggs for breakfast?” she asked, looking
through an outside basket full of roots. “I’ve some berries and
apples as well.”

“No, bacon,” he replied.

She cleared her throat. “You can have eggs
and apples.” He sighed as she set a pan of water over the cold
hearth. “Fire, please!” she called, and he snapped his fingers
pushing the flame her way, settling it under the wood. She changed
into a pair of leggings and a short green tunic, and pulled on a
tall pair of soft deerskin boots that laced up the back. Gabriel
fashioned them with his Elements after they fled and discovered her
slippers would not work. They molded to her skin, and she never
owned a pair of shoes that fit so perfectly. He even set an
anti-water pattern in them to keep them waterproof.

When the eggs finished boiling, she took him
a few and handed him a clean apple. He strung the skin up to dry,
washed his hands, and looked at the eggs with a sharp gaze. “I’m
going to pretend you’re bacon,” he said quietly as he turned
away.

Robyn spent the rest of the morning going
through her things, seeing what she could do without on their
journey to Anatoly City. All her clothes would be replaced, for no
respectable Princess would be seen in leggings and a tunic. She
would also receive all new grooming products.

“Woman, I need food!” Gabriel called from
outside. He had been practicing with his Earth Element all morning,
and she watched as the world blossomed into flowers and withered to
ash an hour later. Now he seemed to be pulling sand out of the soil
for no apparent reason.

“Grow yourself a peach tree.”

“I’m not in the mood for
peaches
.”

“I don’t have any star-crossed bacon!” she
yelled.

He was looking at her bemused when she poked
her head around the door. “I will have something else then.”

“A wise move.” She stepped into the main
room. “You are going to have to make friends with the head cook in
Kilkiny. She will either love you or loathe you.”

The stew of roots and kale was nearly ready
when Gabriel’s movements in the yard stopped suddenly. He looked
south passed the cottage.

“People on the road,” he said quickly and ran
inside. She grabbed her bow and slung a quiver around her shoulder.
“They crossed over it.” He cut the flames of the fire.

She waited quietly, knowing the smells of
burning wood and cooking food would drift far in the woods, not to
mention sound. The geese and chickens squawked loudly in their pen,
and she cursed the creatures.

“They are heading this way,” he said with a
dark tone. “Negotiate with them, but get them on their way. If they
want food, give it to them. Only involve me if you have no other
choice. Your hair,” he suddenly realized, and pulled fibers from
the surroundings to form a thin gray scarf. She bound her hair up
and wrapped the scarf around to hide the blonde. “Oh,” he whispered
and winced. “It’s a party, a large one.”

Kicking his boots off, he fell into his tiger
form and hid in the shadows of the cottage. Robyn put an eye
against a crack in the thin curtains of the front window and
waited. Minutes later the party arrived, and she counted
silently.

“It’s the same party that passed by
yesterday,” she whispered, and Gabriel pricked his ears up in
question. “Yes, I’m sure. Same number of men and horses.”

A slender man on a black destrier alongside a
stout man with a well-bred dapple gray took the lead upon seeing
the cottage. The slender man had pretty eyes, even from a distance,
and a sharp pinched look to his face, while the other man’s posture
placed him as military or possibly noble. Nocking an arrow, she
waited until they stopped and opened the door.

“Stay on your horses,” she said pointing with
the arrow to the man with pretty eyes. “You will not be
staying.”

“Hullo. I mean no harm,” he smiled, a
straight-toothed grin. It was
perfectly
straight. Anyone
with teeth that straight had noble upbringings or were close
friends with Spirit Mages. She and Gabriel had perfectly straight
teeth seeing as Lady Aisling took interest in their upbringing. The
man winced a little, and she saw he had a fresh cut on his upper
lip.

“Are you alone? I am looking for someone to
join my questing party,” he said smoothly, but the military man on
his left gave him a sidelong glance. “I am in need of a good
archer, and the innkeeper in Jensanisbel said you would be worth
asking. I am willing to pay handsomely.”

“Do you think I am so foolish to be the only
woman to join a party of men? Half of your men look like pirates
too far from their ship, and by the looks of you all, you’ve been
on the road long enough to miss a woman’s embrace.”

Some of the men chuckled. The noble blinked
several times before smiling. “I can ensure your safety.”

“Safe is a relative term,” she retorted, and
the military man smirked giving the slightest nod. He had a
familiar face, but she could not quite place it.

“I am on a hunting party for the Prince
Nolen,” the noble said and dismounted, untying a saddle bag from
his handsome destrier. “He said I may recruit who I wish along the
way, and I have a signed warrant. Is there no one else here?”

He began to cross the yard; even the drawing
of her bow was not enough to scare him.

“I warn you to stand back. I am not alone,”
she shouted and held the fletching closer to her face, feeling the
pull in her shoulder. The man gave a small nod and smiled but did
not stop. When he was six strides away, she knew she had no other
choice and stepped aside from the door. Gabriel bounded out; ears
flat back against his head, whiskers flared, and teeth flashing. He
roared monstrously. The horses reared, throwing one man, but the
black destrier remained standing, only flicking his ears towards
the large cat. The noble took several steps back and nearly lost
his balance, but he was his unmoved as his horse.

“Order your animal back,” he said and held
the paper out to her. “I am the Prince’s emissary, and he would be
loath to lose me.”

She was surprised the noble was not
frightened by Gabriel. Most men turned and ran at the sight of the
massive cat, but this man…smiled. She lowered her bow and took the
paper quickly. It was a binding document that gave the man all
authority to take who and what he wished to fulfill his
journey.

“What is this quest of yours?” she asked,
shoving the paper back at him.

“I seek a man,” he replied. “A Mage of great
power.”

“For what purpose?”

“The Queen has need of his skills. Pack your
things. We will wait.” She made a move to disagree, but his sharp
look would hear nothing of it.