Zane was still giving himself a good patting down, and every so often, I could hear him groaning.
“Holy crap, that wasn’t fun,” he croaked. He cleared his throat then said in a low whisper, “I’m pretty sure you’re going to have to pay my doctor bill when we get back home.” I heard him scuffling to his feet finally and mumbling something about being “too old for this.”
I snorted but tried not to chuckle too loudly. Just because it looked as though we were alone, it didn’t necessarily mean we were.
“If we never have to do that again, it’ll be too soon,” I muttered.
He laughed. “Give me your hand, newt.”
He took my hand and lifted me to my feet with ease, wincing only a little. I grinned and tapped his chest. “Don’t tell me you can’t keep up anymore, Mr. Huntington.”
He moved so fast, I hadn’t even realized what he was about to do until he swung me up off my feet and held me tight to his body. His spicy, warm cologne enveloped me.
“How’s this for keeping up, witch?” His voice shivered with a hint of wicked laughter, and I wanted to melt into his embrace.
“Put me down, you brute,” I said with a hint of laughter in my words, slapping at him ineffectually.
His lopsided grin grew cocky and full of roguish arrogance. “In a minute. I kind of like you here.”
“Oh gods,” I rolled my eyes but snuggled in a little. “You men are really all the same.” I traced swirls over his chest with my fingertip.
“What? You mean handsome? Strong? Irresistible? Because guilty as charged.”
I fought to hold back my giggle. The last place we’d been had been terribly shocking to the senses, and maybe he knew that, which was why he was acting so silly. But I didn’t mind. I didn’t mind one bit. This was why he’d come after all, to help keep me sane. And it was working like a charm. He just didn’t need to know that.
“No.” I wiggled in his arms enough that he finally put me down. I dusted off my skirt, acting slighted and offended, though I knew he didn’t buy it for a second because that cocky smirk of his was still firmly in place. “Try Silly. Vain. Peacocks. All of you.”
“Bah, now you’re sounding like your aunt Cinth.”
At the mention of my aunt’s name, my smile slipped, and everything I’d heard in the first jump came rushing back.
He blinked. His smile was gone now too. “Oh, Zinny, I’m an a—”
I waved his words off with a flick of my wrist. “Don’t apologize, Zane. We don’t know what we heard back there. And maybe it’s not what I was thinking. I’m probably wrong. I often am.”
His mouth thinned, and he looked down at my neck. “Your pearls are gone.”
I touched my bare throat and went perfectly still. “Well, this is a wrinkle.”
I tried to keep my words light and airy, but the truth was I felt as if someone had just shoved a bag of rocks down my gullet. I swallowed hard. Without those pearls, I would shift into my newt form and would be just as I’d been before. Keeping track of me could pose a serious challenge for him.
Zane clenched his jaw so tight that his muscle twitched. “How much longer do you have before the change?”
I shrugged and gave him a weak smile. “I’m fine.”
“Truth, Zinny,” he said, not buying my pat answer for a second.
I swallowed hard. I hadn’t wanted to burden him, but I was about to in a serious way. “Maybe half an hour, hour tops.”
He closed his eyes and rocked back on his heels. “You won’t remember anything.”
I shook my head and fisted my hands up tight. At least I still had on Aunt Prim’s protection charm. I’d not lost the family ring, and that was something. But was it enough?
“Probably not.”
“Okay.” He nodded. “Okay. Then I’ll just have to keep you safe.”
I nodded, felling all balled up inside and on the verge of panic.
“I’m so sorry to put you through this. Truly. Just know that I have a tendency to want to wander when I’m like that. Please, Zane, don’t lose me in the past. Okay?” My voice quivered.
He grabbed my hands and gently squeezed. “Never. I’ll always keep you safe, my newt.” He caressed my cheek, and I leaned into his touch.
The urgency of figuring everything out before I was forced into my dumb alter ego crept in, and I turned and frowned. “Is it just me, or is it taking forever this time?”
“Hmm.” He nodded. “I noticed that too.”
No sooner had he finished his words than I spotted movement from the corner of my left eye. When I turned to look, I spotted a deer walking through the trees. But this deer was unlike any I’d ever seen before.
Its antlers were massive, twenty points easy. And they glowed, a shade of ephemeral white that gleamed brighter than the moon. Writhing around the horns were vines in bloom with beautiful pink flowers and waxy green leaves.
“Zane. Zane,” I hissed, tugging on his cape. “Look.” I pointed.
He turned in my arms to look, sucking in a sharp breath when he finally saw what I did. The deer, as though aware of us, stopped and turned its massive head, looking directly at the two of us, unmoving and unblinking.
“Wow,” Zane breathed.
I nodded, struck dumb by the majesty and beauty of the creature that had turned and was walking majestically up the hillside.
“Should we follow it?” Zane asked.
I looked around the trail again. There was no noise of an oncoming wagon and no signs of life other than the deer.
I shrugged. “I guess.”
We reached for the other’s hand at the same time and threaded our fingers together, holding tight as we made our way up the hillside, following at a good distance behind the deer. It struck me as we walked that the deer had actually seemed to notice us even with the capes and hoods on. That made me wonder whether the cloak still concealed us at all or whether the deer was special. Maybe he was a beacon of some sort sent by Time to guide us.
I wasn’t sure, but I truly hoped it was the latter.
Every so often, the buck’s ears would swivel and its head would turn just a fraction. The creature knew we followed it, but it wasn’t spooked. In fact, it seemed to be quite the opposite. Some places we walked up on the hillside were a little steeper and tougher to climb than other places, and when we lagged, the deer would always wait just long enough for us to keep it within sight.
It was definitely guiding us, but to what, I hadn’t a clue.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity later, we crested the plateau.
“Gods, I need to run more,” I huffed as I planted my hands on my thighs, breathing like a bellows, rather mortified by how out of shape I was.
Zane wiped at his brow. “You and me both.”
I looked around for the deer, but it was nowhere to be found. I could not hear even the snap of a twig at its passing. It was as if it had vanished completely. I frowned and looked at Zane, who was wearing the same look of consternation.
“Ye think I would allow this?” A deep male voice snared my attention. I turned toward the source at the same time Zane did.
“Da, please,” a female pleaded, her voice cracking as her magick curled in tight tendrils of icy fire through her clenched hands. “I-I love him.”
The woman was beautiful. Her body shone like the moon. Her hair wasn’t hair at all but ropey braided branches threaded through with vines of ivy and springtime blooms that created a magnificent crown. Her dress was built of fire that snapped and burned deepest sapphire blue whenever she moved.
And her eyes were the most arresting feature of all. They were the gold of the sun’s core, with no pupil at all. They shone bright with tears. It was obvious she was fae, and not just low fae, but high caste and from the light court.
A niggling of a thought began working its way through my mind. Something about her seemed very familiar. But it wasn’t her looks because I didn’t recognize her at all. Except when she would move her
head a certain way or flit her wrists, the movement jogged not so much a memory but a feeling.
I knew her. I just didn’t know how I knew her.
I looked at the man standing before her with a glower fixed firmly on his face. He was massive and also gleamed as if he’d swallowed the moon’s glow. He stared down at her with rage burning in his unnaturally silver-frosted eyes that were veined through with bolts of lightning. He wore a long robe fashioned of lichen and moss, and he was covered in bark-like creases all over his body. He too wore a crown, this one built of bark and twigs that ran with a line of marching, gleaming golden ants.
The heavens trembled behind him.
Who were these two? And why did I have this nagging feeling that I should already know? Where were my aunts and my mother? I stared at the tree line, half expecting to see someone I knew come walking out. Why were we there?
“Say goodbye, Bláth.”
“Bláth?” I mouthed, whipping around to look at Zane just as he did the same with me.
“Bláth?” he mouthed as well, and all I could do was nod.
Holy freaking bat balls, I wanted to say out loud. I couldn’t, but I wanted to. I’d read this story so many times as a child, always consigning it more to the realm of myth and legend than fact. Yet there stood Bláth, lesser-known goddess of spring of the Tuatha De Dannon, which meant the massive figure before her could only be her father, Bile, also known as the world tree. As in The World Tree. As in all creation of faekind—and some would even say mortal kind—sprang from within his and Danu’s loins.
“You have grieved me, daughter.” His voice rolled like thunder. The ground at our feet trembled, and I had to clutch Zane’s elbow to keep myself righted. Giant cracks of lightning tore through the night, causing me to shiver as needles of ice and rain suddenly pelted my face.
Zane wrapped his arms tight around me and adjusted my hood, making certain that no part of him or me was exposed. What kind of power must Time possess to be able to keep us hidden from Bile himself? And why in the devil we were there? What could any of this possibly have to do with my friends back home?
No matter how much I tried to wrack my brain for the connection, I was lost and couldn’t find it.
I knew the stories by heart and looked for Bláth’s lover, Bás. He was supposed to be there. And when I really looked, I finally saw something. A tall ebony shadow stood just behind Bláth, not moving or speaking. He was covered in a thick cloaking robe that made him nearly blend into the night. There was nothing but darkness around his feet. The grass was withered and black as though charred by flame.
He spread death wherever he went.
Bláth looked behind her shoulder at Bás, and her tears fell like glittering diamonds down her cheeks. She held her hand out to him, and he automatically moved closer, taking his place beside her and turning her toward him so that he could slide his hands up her arms. His touch singed her gown, but she didn’t flinch. Instead, she only glowed brighter. Her smile was sad but burned bright with love.
“Beloved.” Her voice trembled, and he tipped his head forward.
Without saying a word, she rose up and pushed his cowl back. I expected bones and death and ugliness, but I gasped when I saw him. The stories had always said he was beautiful, but I’d believed them to be embellished. Because how could death be beautiful?
Long, wavy dark hair framed his strong, chiseled features. His eyes were black as pitch but glittered with the jewels of a thousand stars. His skin was the rich shade of freshly tilled earth. He lifted a hand and tenderly drew his finger down the side of Bláth’s face, leaving a trail of fire upon her flesh in his wake. She trembled, sighing almost dreamily.
“Gods, he’s beautiful,” I whispered without thinking. Then I jerked because A, I’d spoken out loud and B, Zane was with me.
I waited several heartbeats, expecting to see the fae gods turn and smite us, but they didn’t move from their positions. In fact, no one seemed to notice us at all. My heart raced like the thunder of speeding hooves in my chest. I clutched my robe with nerveless fingers and squeezed.
“I-I mean,” I stuttered, glancing at Zane.
He grinned and shoulder-bumped me. “I mean if you’re into that sort of thing. Tall. Dark. Dead.”
I snickered, understanding what he was saying. He was not the type of man to feel slighted if I noticed the beauty in another, which only made me like him more.
“I’m not,” I said low. “I tend to like nerds.”
His chest puffed up, and a happy smile stole over his face.
“Say your goodbyes, Bás,” Bile rumbled, and the ground tremored beneath us.
She squeezed her eyes shut and nodded. Her skin breathed the light of her people, glowing like an ivory pearl in the darkness and lighting up all of the woods.
“Do not be afraid,” Bás whispered, his voice deep and powerful, curling like dark shadows through the winds and causing the trees to slowly drop their leaves. Bás was a devastating and wrecking force. He was death. That was what he was, but he held Bláth in his arms with absolute reverence and tenderness.
A lump formed in my throat as I watched their undeniable show of raw emotion and love. How could her father see this and not be moved?
But when I looked at Bile, all I saw was the stern frown of a disappointed parent. I’d always wondered as a little child how he could witness their love and never seem to be moved by it. I’d hated the king of the fae growing up for his hatred and bias.
But then I saw the glitter of tears form in his eyes, and I could hardly believe what I was seeing. Bile was crying? I frowned so hard, my entire face puckered up.
I clutched at Zane’s hands and squeezed tight. And he let me. He held me and let me be. I was so lucky, so very lucky to have him and my aunts, to be surrounded by people who truly cared for me and my best interests.
Bláth sniffed, trying in vain to check her tears. “I am afeared. I canna—”
Bás shook his head, causing the curls of his hair to feather around his sinisterly handsome features. His full lips turned down into a helpless frown, but his voice was strong as he said, “Ye can, and ye will. Take care of the bairn.” He framed her stomach with his large, powerful palm.
She trembled. Bláth didn’t show much yet. She hardly had a tummy at all. So far, the legend was proving to be mostly accurate. I was rather impressed at how dedicated my aunt Prim had been to documenting this story. Oral tradition was one thing, stories carried down from generation to generation, but this was such an honest recreation of events that I would have sworn my aunt had been there for it. Which, of course, was nonsense considering the incident had taken place well over five hundred years before her time.
Bile grunted, and again, the world shook with his ire. “End this soon, or I shall.” He spoke with a timbre of finality.
Bláth cried out with pain and suffering, not of body but of heart. Her fingers trembled as she framed Bás’s face. Her eyes memorized every inch of him, committing him completely to her heart.
His long frost-tipped lashes fluttered when she touched him. “I love ye,” he murmured with gravel heavy in his words. “I love ye for always.”
“Always,” she whispered. “Always, my dark heart.”
“The bastard will not be ours to keep.” Bile’s terrible words cut through their moment like a sword thrust through her body.
She cried out and hugged her flat belly. “Ye canna—”
Bile snarled, and his stoic visage twisted into the stuff of nightmares. “I can, and I will. When the bairn is born, I will toss it into this world. May it be eaten by the great wolf herself.”
A howl rented the night, long and low and deadly. I shook, not recalling these words from the stories at all. I knew fae had the capacity for cruelty. Those of us who were so long-lived had to always fight against our hubris natures, but he was a grandfather. This was his child he threatened. Did that not bother him at all?
Bás shoved Bláth behind him, his powerful
body trembling as he glared at Bile. The stories spoke of Bás’s great bravery, how he’d fought for Bláth and for their bairn, and I was humbled to witness it now. He stood before the king of faes. He didn’t stand a chance against Bile. Not even Death could come against the ancient tree. But he was undeterred in his desire to keep his treasure safe.
The stare-down last for what felt like hours before Bile shook his head and glanced over his shoulder with a snarl—a rare gesture from the proud king, I was sure. He was giving them time, and I was shocked to see it.
In the books, Bile had been an odious man who’d driven them apart, caring not for their feelings or what either of them wanted, stripping them both of the only things they held dear. But I caught sight of something I’d never seen before. His hands were curled into fists, and his lower jaw trembled as though he waged war within himself. Neither Bás nor Bláth could see what I did because they were again wrapped up in each other.
I frowned, feeling a little as though the rug were being pulled out from under me. This wasn’t supposed to be. There wasn’t supposed to be any type of kindness in the king’s heart. None whatsoever.
Bláth wrapped an arm around her middle. Bás held her free hand in his, so careful to never harm her. He brought her knuckles to his mouth and tenderly dropped a kiss onto them, nuzzling her skin with the tip of his long nose and breathing her in like a fine aroma.
“I will guard our kin, Bláth. Worry not. I will keep the babe from harm, always. That is my vow to you, and may I return to shadow if I do not.”
A sharp wind whistled through the trees from the whispered oath. The night had sealed his pledge.
Bláth cried out. “Dinna make such a pledge. It is—”
“Too late,” her father rumbled. “It is too late.” There was sorrow in his words, regret even. I shook my head. Nothing of what I’d read in the book was happening here, he wasn’t laughing, or even crowing at his victory, gloating that he would separate them forever, that it was done and over and they would never again be united. Instead, it was quite the opposite.