Chapter 12 #2
“Well, as long as my anger is refreshing… We’re not going to die until after we burn this motherfucker to the ground.
How’s that? We will restore balance and all that, but we’re claiming vengeance on this bitch.
I’ll fuck you on the floor in the middle of the court if that rubs salt into the wound.
I don’t give two shits. Fuck that bitch.
She’ll pay for what she’s done. They all will.
I’ll make sure of it. You’re not family, but you’re all I’ve got.
No one fucks with all I’ve got and gets away with it. ”
“You’d be trapped, Daisy.”
She laughed. “I’m in Faerie. I’m already trapped. I’m absolutely fucked, actually, and since I’m sentenced to die, I might as well get a little pleasure out of it, huh? Want to knock this out right now? I’m game. I could use some pounding to work off some steam.”
A smile peeked through his solemn demeanor. Gold warred with midnight around his pupil. She could turn him on with only words when this court couldn’t do that with magic, hands, or mouths.
“Not words…just you,” he said softly, his eyes open and honest.
She leaned toward him and gently ran her thumb under his eye. “Why do some fae have that ring around their irises and some don’t?” she asked, remembering Eldric and the princess. “Your memory said royalty, but Eldric didn’t seem royal.”
He trailed his fingertips along her arm. “It denotes an elevated station in Faerie,” he replied. “Royalty in the various kingdoms have it, the color matching their throne. Here, it is obsidian. The Diamond Throne’s is gold.”
“Not…diamond?” She dropped her hand and he caught it, stopping it on his heart and keeping it braced there. She could feel the slow, rhythmic pulse under his smooth, warm skin.
“No. I asked Eldric once why that is. He never answered me.” He shrugged.
“He chooses which of my questions to answer and which not to. So he says. I think he simply doesn’t know and never thought to look it up.
For me, after I was…stationed here, obsidian replaced the gold in my eyes until… you. I have no idea why.”
Until the crystal chalice situation. Though that didn’t explain the very first time they’d met.
“And Eldric?” she asked. “Is he royalty, then?”
Tarian shook his head. “He’s in the order of scribes. It’s a subsection of fae who devote their lives to knowledge. If they rise high enough in the order, magic burns their irises.” He paused. “Daisy, listen, there’s something about…our next steps that you should know.”
Her eyebrows lifted. “How many secrets do you have?”
“A great many.”
In fairness, she was sitting on a big one as well.
“You go first,” he whispered.
She wanted to move closer. Hell, she wanted to cuddle up next to him, her skin flush with his. But this needed to be hashed out. They needed to make plans.
She pulled her hand back and threaded her fingers together to focus. The sheet was still at his waist, his defined and tattooed torso on full display, distracting her.
He moved a pillow behind his head, sitting up to rest against the headboard.
Getting comfortable for their talk. She watched the play of muscle as he did so before swallowing, her mouth suddenly dry.
It was almost painful how much she wanted him.
To taste him. To take him deeply into her body until neither of them could focus on anything but the other.
She inhaled and tried to get her head in the game. “Eldric had a side conversation with me in the hallway while he was talking to you.” She told him essentially what had been said, and ended with her potential for a choice. Her potential for a power that was useful to her, not just to someone else.
“I heard that conversation, yes. I also heard your thoughts about it,” he said when she’d finished.
Her eyes widened. “He said it would be safe in my head. That his kind know all, but don’t share all.”
“Yes, that is usually the way of it. ‘As the gods will it,’ he always says. Well, it seems the gods are giving him the same fucked-up treatment they are willing on us. Usually, mindgazer magic won’t work on his kind—”
“And a scribe is actually different from a fae?” They looked the same.
Images, emotions, and, most of all, information flashed through her head.
Eldric the Timeworn, he was called. All of Faerie produced such beings, no matter the kingdom or station in life—someone with more capacity for mental information storage, a better grasp on difficult concepts, a master of many dialects, cultures, and languages, and someone who could endure a mental transformation that turned them into a different kind of fae.
No one knew what that transformation entailed unless they’d been through it, because to fail was to die.
They thought of themselves as apart from fae. They were the protectors of information that in turn protected the realm, as the gods willed.
They sounded like genius, scroll-hoarding zealots, but whatever.
Tarian spat out a laugh. “They are, in many respects. I am warning you, they are very literal creatures. Your humor will not register.”
“Half the time you laugh at things I say that aren’t jokes, so maybe that’ll be refreshing,” she drawled.
“So you knew all of that? You heard him say I should see him as soon as possible, without your knowing—that I’d have a choice to help or not—all of that, and you left me to my own devices in here? ”
One of his shapely eyebrows lifted. “Do you assume I have any control over you? I recall one instance in particular where you stabbed me with my own knife. I knew instinctively, early on, that you’d need to choose your path.
I tried to force you where I could, and it always backfired.
It was when I offered you a choice, and you chose to help, that we were most effective.
That we lived through obstacles that would’ve killed most. You’ll remember that I let you talk yourself out of running after I arrived at the camp.
I didn’t restrain you when you could’ve run through the portal.
You are smart enough to stay alive. I figured last night would be no different. ”
“You had your people—fae, whatever—watching, though, right? Just in case?”
“Obviously. I’m not a fool. Your unpredictability is endearing…until it is a pain in my ass.”
She huffed out a laugh. Then she licked her lips, unsure, studying his face. “And so you already knew the other half of the chalice magic has the ability to nullify magic?”
“No. I only knew there was something more to the magic. The texts have vague references to an additional element of the power. When I asked about it, Eldric verbally did what scribes always do when they don’t want to answer a question—spout enlightened nonsense until I was so bored I gave up.
They think they are so very intelligent, but study with enough of them and you learn their tricks.
His mind would then usually clue me in, but in those instances, I couldn’t hear his swirling thoughts over the din of his verbal nonsense.
I couldn’t make out what the additional magic was.
I assumed it had something to do with the setup of the chalices. But I could never find the answer.”
“Until he outright told me. You were allowed to hear it that time.”
“Yes, and it was for the best. I’m not sure how I would’ve handled things if I’d known you could cut out my magic and stab me in my sleep.
I would’ve been a lot more…strict with you.
I realize now it would’ve backfired. There is no way you would’ve softened to me if I had remained hard with you.
We wouldn’t be in this situation we’re in now, where you are consenting to trap yourself to me because of vengeance and plain bad decision-making. ”
“Let’s get one thing clear—it’s also because you’re hot and incredibly desirable. But yes, there has been a lot of bad decision-making when it comes to you.”
“So…” He studied her again. “When you figure out how to nullify magic, what will you choose? Are my days numbered?”
He was surely joking. She’d seen his sword work.
“First, I don’t know if he is telling the truth,” she said.
“He is. He doesn’t lie about information such as this.
Cannot, I don’t think. Nor is he lying about being uncertain of my motives.
He knows my plans. His kind is dedicated to the prosperity of Faerie, even if they mostly read about its past. He has done everything in his power to help me.
His entire faction has, including by keeping my secrets.
But he also knows I am in this court, with its degradation and twisted magic.
He sees me lose more of my grip with each passing thrush. ”
“Thrush?”
His eyelids fluttered. “Sorry, year is your equivalent, though a thrush is significantly longer. The thrush happens one time each year across Faerie. It’s a time for reflection and repentance as the thrush falls from the stars.
It’s a sort of…” His gaze drifted away as he thought of something similar in the human realm.
“Never mind, it doesn’t matter,” she said.
“Here’s what I will choose: to destroy this fucking court.
Then I’ll be a hero and balance Faerie, however that might happen, and save the human world.
If I can work in a way to punish your gods, I’ll slide that in there as well.
If you’re going to aim, aim high, right?
I just need a cape.” A crooked smile worked up his handsome face.
“Now, what’s this thing you have to tell me? ”
His smile slipped, replaced by a red hue in his cheeks. “I haven’t… I’ve never…” He cleared his throat. “I’m…intact, we’ll say.”
Her brow pinched in confusion. “I know you don’t mean you still have balls, because I’ve felt them. That’s no secret. So intact…like…they checked me for? Like…”
“A virgin,” he said. “I’ve never had sex. You would be my first and very likely my last. You’d be my only.”