The Silver Rose (21 page)

He laughed as he strolled toward her. “How on earth are you doing that?”

“I'm a witch,” Rosa stated. “Haven't you heard?”

“It's a fairy tale,” he told her as he moved across the lawn. “You told me that yourself.”

“Let me tell you another fairy tale,” she responded. She prayed she had not made a grievous error of judgement. “One where a silversmith pretends to be someone he's not. Someone who is a warlock and has a dragon for a familiar.”

Aden's step faltered and Rosa's stomach lurched.
Keep coming,
she silently intoned.
Come to me of your own free will.
And then he moved again, more slowly, hesitantly, a look of raw hunger and inevitability in his eyes.

“What game are you playing?”

“I want you to know what I am,” she breathed softly.

“You're Rosa Greenwood. Gallery owner, silversmith, and part-time herbalist,” Aden growled. “But I like this fantasy of yours a whole lot more.”

Rosa fingered the stem of the rose that had disappeared into the folds of her dress. It too, glowed eerily. The metal warmed to her touch. And then the light in Aden's eyes, illuminated by her magical light, evaporated in a heartbeat, and the stark shock she saw reflecting back at her shook her resolve.

“Where did you get that?”

“What?” Rosa could barely believe the swift change in his demeanor. There was a darkness in him she had not seen before, and it shook her to her core.

“The rose?” he sputtered. “Where did you get it?”

“It was my mother's.” She held the rose and saw that its glow had not diminished when presented with the astonishing wall of anger from Aden. In fact, it had intensified and was blooming, the bud opening up to reveal a perfect center. “Why?”

She reached out to Aden, but he warded her off by raising his hands in a defensive stance. “Stay away from me.”

What was this? A dark, roiling cloud of fury hovered all around him. He backed away, his breathing erratic. Sparks of electricity shot in jagged spikes from his aura, as if he was fully charged and ready to strike. Rosa gasped and dropped the rose. It banged bruisingly against her thigh. One hand slid to brace her heart, which was jumping crazily in her chest. She was stunned it did not leap out into her hand.

“I see you for who you are.” Rosa's voice sounded as if she was in a tunnel. “What I don't understand is what you see. What is it, Aden?”

But he whirled away, voluminous clouds swirling and whipping up currents of air, and in a flash of light, he vanished.

She had her answer. Aden was definitely warlock! But she stood rooted to the ground in shock, not knowing what to make of his angry display. As warlock he would have seen formal witch attire before. It had to be the rose. But why? She lifted it once again into her hands to examine it. It no longer glowed, and the full bloom had returned to a bud. It was a thing of great beauty, sculpted by a master silversmith. Clutching it to her chest, she caressed the silver petals and the closed bud unfurled until it bloomed once again, as true as if it had been plucked fresh from a live bush. It gleamed a rosy hue, and the warmth spread to her heart.

A symbol of love.

And then another piece of the puzzle clicked into place. Dumbfounded, her knees buckled and she collapsed into a heap on the grass.

It was a rare artisan who had made the rose. An artisan as great as Aden.

• • •

Aden stood on the embankment and violently cursed the night. “What game are you playing?” Four hundred years! An eternity. Aden had carried his burden for so long he had grown comfortable within the confines of his protective shell.

His thoughts roiled as fast as the river's currents as they fought against each other on their way out to sea. He had hidden behind his façade, changed his name every few decades or so in order to remain undetected in the mortal world. He wandered from place to place at the will of Marylebone, undertaking whatever he had been instructed. Soon it would be time to change his identity again. It was laughable that this time, he'd chosen his true name for this
lifetime
.

His cover blown, he whipped his hands into the night sky in supplication and cried out to whatever, whomever would listen. “Why did you send me here? What games do you play with my life? With both our lives?

Clammy dread clutched his heart and squeezed until he thought he would die from the pain. How had Rosa come by the rose? Could he believe her mother had given it to her? How had her mother come by it? The sheer duplicity by Marylebone stung his eyes as the long-hidden memories surfaced and threatened to drown him, forcing him to recall what he had spent centuries forgetting. Aden clenched his hands into fists and blunt nails sliced into skin. He shook them at the sky, and drips of blood splashed onto his forehead but he did not care. Through the heavy fog of anger, he knew he had frightened Rosa and knew he would go back and explain, but not tonight. Tonight he was emotionally raw and uncontrolled.

Albert winked into existence beside him. “Albert help Aden feel better.”

“Nothing will make me feel better,” Aden admitted to his little friend. Not ever! “Not tonight. But I'm grateful for your caring.” He let his little familiar spend the night at his side and drew what solace he could from the earth. But it seemed even the Goddess had very little nourishment to offer that night.

• • •

Goran watched from the doorway looking over to where Aden stood, precariously close to the edge of the river. He had never seen an aura so distressed. He had never felt a surge of magic so wild. Something involving Rosa had rent Aden's soul in two, and there was absolutely nothing he could do. So he spent the night watching over Aden, knowing her two sisters would do the same for Rosa.

Beth was the first to arrive in Rosa's garden. Alanna was not far behind. They might not currently be able to harness magic, but they felt the surge in power from Aden's spectacular departure and Rosa's distress nonetheless.

Next came Zelda, appearing in a blinding burst of wizardry, the remnants of light illuminating the garden for a full five minutes afterwards. Kneeling down beside Rosa, she clasped a hand in hers. “What is it, girl? What has happened?”

Rosa blindly looked at Zelda and her sisters, her eyes unfocused, her thoughts incoherent. “Rose … the rose.”

“What rose?” queried Beth.

“Warlock,” Rosa tried again.

“What do you mean?” Zelda hunched down beside Rosa and brushed away the tear-soaked hair stuck to her cheeks.

“Magic.”

“She's lost the plot,” said Alanna needlessly.

Beth shot her sister a withering glance. “What magic?” she gently urged Rosa.

“Aden. He's magic.”

Beth leaned down and placed a hand under Rosa's elbow to help her to her feet. “Thank the Goddess. At last.”

Rosa looked sad and defeated. “It's all been one big lie.”

“Look at her!” Alanna gestured to her distressed sister. “This isn't the time to offer her false hope.”

“It isn't false hope.” Beth insisted. She grimaced and then shocked them all when she added, “Aden is warlock. I've known for some time.”

“What?” Alanna was utterly dumbfounded. “You knew and you didn't tell us!”

Beth's statement only added to Rosa's shock. “Why didn't you tell me?”

Tears pooled in Beth's eyes. “I couldn't. I wanted to so much, but I couldn't.”

By this time they'd entered Rosa's kitchen. Zelda snapped her fingers and a bottle of elderberry wine and four glasses appeared on the table. “Why not, child?”

“Aden commanded me to secrecy,” Beth finally revealed, the heavy burden of keeping the truth from Rosa finally lifting from her aura. “He would have known the second I said anything.”

“You mean I lost my magic for nothing?” Anger flashed cruelly in Alanna's eyes.

“Still always thinking of yourself first,” Zelda snapped. “Will you ever learn that not everything is about you?”

“But we could have avoided having our magic bound.”

“You knew the rules,” Rosa pointed out, her equilibrium returning. She was not sure how she felt, but the truth was out. At least she now knew who and what she was dealing with. “You chose to break them. Consequences for every action, Alanna. I chose to scry Aden, and my scrying bowl was shattered. Punishment is swift when knowingly breaking witch law.”

“There's more,” Beth elaborated. “Aden's not just any warlock. He's Dragon of Marylebone.”

For once Alanna was speechless. Zelda smiled knowingly and poured the wine into the glasses.

Rosa rubbed her palms over her cheeks and swiped away the smudges of tears. “Which explains the little dragon I saw in the woods the night you Called Goran down.”

“You saw a little dragon?” Beth looked delighted. “I've seen him too.”

A sound of disgust emerged from Alanna, but she said nothing when Zelda shot her a look that would melt ice caps on Mount Aorangi.

“This means Goran is Aden's apprentice,” Rosa commented flatly. She would have laughed if she were not so shattered. Aden had been so distressed and angry, yet it was she who had every right to be angry. No wonder Goran had been so skittish when she'd questioned him.

Rosa gripped Beth's arms, wanting to know the rest. “How did you discover Aden was warlock?”

“It was the middle of the night,” Beth told them. “He was harnessing his power and I couldn't sleep. I expect he couldn't either. I walked outside and there he was. There was no mistaking who or what he was, especially when the little dragon appeared, but he discovered me watching and I was commanded to reveal nothing.” A single tear slid down Beth's cheek. “I'm sorry, Rosa. I would never have willingly held any of this from you.”

Rosa thumbed Beth's tear away. “I know you wouldn't.” She looked up at Alanna. Zelda and Beth turned to follow Rosa's gaze. Nothing was said, but all understood. Alanna, if it had suited her needs, would have held such information close to her chest but not for the right reasons. Regrettably, Goran was right. Alanna's magic would be bound for a long time.

And then Rosa told them how she had revealed her magic and her hope that he would return the favor.

“Well, he must have revealed something. And I'm guessing it wasn't good.” Zelda gulped down her wine. “Otherwise you wouldn't be in this sorry state.”

“Didn't you feel it?” Agitated at the memory, Rosa stood and paced the floor with her glass in her hand. “The display of power was incredible.”

Zelda nodded. “Anyone with even a smidgen of magic will have felt it.”

“What happened next?” Beth asked.

Alanna apparently had decided not to speak again that night. She sat resolute, arms crossed in front of her, listening with a quiet intensity that belied her earlier display of selfish anger.

Rosa fingered the chain at her waist. “It was the rose. He got very upset the moment he saw it and demanded to know where I'd got it from.”

Zelda focused on the rose and frowned. “Isn't that the one Alice gave you?”

“Yes.” Once again, Rosa fingered the stem and the petals unfolded. It was one of the eccentric aspects of the rose. Her mother had never been successful in getting it to bloom. Both Beth and Alanna had also tried and failed. “The thing is, I think Aden crafted this rose.”

Zelda nodded. “He certainly possesses the talent.”

“There are few who could have. Leonardo definitely. There are one or two others, but my intuition tells me it's Aden, and he wasn't happy to see it.”

“Why?” Beth asked the obvious.

“Just before he disappeared in a blinding display of magic,” Rosa explained, “he went white as a sheet. The lightning bolts of anguish shooting from him were the most frightening. I truly thought the flames would consume him. And then he disappeared. I don't know where he's gone or whether I'll ever see him again.”

• • •

Rosa wanted to search for Aden all the next day, but it was as if her sisters and Zelda had drawn up a roster to keep her company, and she did not have a spare minute to herself. And they were right. He needed to come to her. The wards around her house reinforced, Rosa accepted nothing would prevent Aden from crossing them. He would come to her if he wanted to. If he wanted her …

Eventually, close to midnight, he made his way to Rosa's back door, recklessly setting off all her boundary alarms. At least he was willing to talk. She was waiting for him, standing framed in the doorway. “I didn't know if you would come back.”

Rosa let him in and walked through to the comfort of her lounge where she'd lit a fire. Spring had disappeared along with her happiness.

“I have questions,” he began without any attempt at small talk.

Irritation flared. He was the one who had lied. “You have questions? What about me?”

“You know as much as I do.” His tone was blunt and matter of fact. “Marylebone instructed me to shield myself from you. I don't know why.”

“You're here to ensure my fate is met.”

Aden nodded. “I am.”

Regardless of desperately needing Aden to tell her he was sorry, she was sure he felt something for her, and she'd hoped it was love.? If he didn't care, he wouldn't feel anything. If he didn't care, he would be as icy as the day she'd first seen him standing across from the gallery.

“I've found my future mate,” Rosa told him flatly, her message clear. Even now after his temperamental display last night.

“You can't have me.” Regret flared briefly in his eyes, before the dark cold ice returned. She shivered and fear pierced her heart.

No. Don't go cold on me!
“Why not?” Frustration echoed in every word.

“I've not heard the bells. I'm immortal. You're not.”