Chapter 14
Iyana
Iyana and Altair made it out of the Aula Pass the day after the ‘hot springs incident,’ as Iyana was calling it. Never out loud, though. Altair would tease her mercilessly. The rest of their journey through the mountains was uneventful, although they could hear the wolves baying in the distance. Altair said the wolves should no longer pose a threat to them after he’d proven to be too much of a hassle for a meal. Legend said the wolves in the Forgotten Mountains were once shifters who had stayed in their animal form too long, eventually becoming more animal than human, and mating with natural wolves. That’s why there was a glint of anthropomorphic intelligence in their eyes. The myth made Iyana shiver despite the warming temperatures as they descended the mountains. She asked if the story was true, and Altair shrugged, saying she’d need to ask a shifter.
As soon as Iyana’s feet reached ground not covered in snow, she wanted to remove her boots, but the pass quickly became shale, and she didn’t want to be picking rocks out of the bottom of her feet. They didn’t talk much while walking down the mountain. Honestly, she was too focused on not slipping and falling off a cliff to strike up a conversation. Altair didn’t either. It allowed Iyana, though, to completely overthink their interaction the night before, finally reaching the conclusion that there was absolutely no way he wanted her. A human. He was simply using her body’s physical response to help her connect with her magic, that was all. It was as good of an explanation she could think of.
However, once they reached flat land again, they were walking side-by-side in an uncomfortable silence—tension rippling between them. Iyana had ripped her shoes off and delighted in the novel sensation of her toes in the grass, to which Altair had given an exasperated shake of his head. She didn’t know how to bring up the ‘incident’ or if she should mention it. How would that conversation go? Hey, so, what was up with last night? We gonna do that again, or what? She would hate to be rejected, and then be forced to live with that rejection hanging over her head for the rest of the trip. Apparently, it was four days on foot to the closest town that Altair had deemed as safe, and then another three days from there to Athusia.
This was all new for Iyana. She had never been the one afraid of being rejected. She’d use a boy for a night, and then try to never talk to him again. Of course, it was impossible to avoid them in such a small village, but most of them got the hint; Idris was the only one narcissistic enough to think he would win her over. She gave a small snort at the memory, and Altair raised an eyebrow at her. Pursing her lips, she decided not to tell him what she was thinking. She didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing he’d wormed his way inside her head.
So, instead of thinking about the enormous, muscled, handsome star next to her, she enjoyed her surroundings. All she’d experienced her whole life was a desert. The trees, the grass, the gently rolling hills were all new to her. She found it to be amazing; awe-inspiring. The world was slipping into its transition from summer to autumn, and the leaves began their change from green to brilliant yellows, oranges, and reds. She wished she had thought to bring a sketchbook. Drawing was one of her favorite pastimes at home and Iyana would sketch when she had a spare minute from her apprentice duties. The subject didn’t matter—landscape, still life, portraits. Occasionally, the children would come to her and she’d draw silly pictures of their faces with exaggerated features. Their ringing laughter made those her favorite. But sometimes she’d go out into the desert on her own, sketching imaginary people, places. Dreaming about a world outside of Imothia that she knew wasn’t possible for her. As a teenager, she had asked Imo if she could travel to Athusia to study at the world-renowned school for healers, but her grandmother had said no immediately and emphatically. Iyana never asked again. But look at me now, she thought, hoping Imo was proud of her. Excitement and trepidation waged a war within her at her new situation.
For the first two days and two nights, the duo only communicated the barest necessities and slept on opposite sides of Altair’s magical fire, so Iyana was shocked when, on the third night after they had settled down to camp, Altair broke his self-imposed vow of silence.
“We need to practice more with your magic,” he said.
“I have been. I’m able to reach out to my magic now without trying.” No thanks to you, went unvoiced.
“I know,” he said with a crooked grin. “I felt you.” Iyana muttered a quiet gross, which earned her a chuckle from Altair. “Now that you’ve learned the most basic, elementary step a two-year-old star is capable of—” Iyana stuck her tongue out at him, causing his eyes to burn a brighter gold “—you need to learn how to focus the magic.”
“Okay…” said Iyana. “How do I do that?”
“Merge with your magic.”
She delved deep inside her, finding the flickering flame already reaching for her. Once they were touching, the warm sensation traveled throughout Iyana’s body, staving off the chill of the night. “Now what?” she asked.
Altair nodded towards the fire. “Control the fire. Move it, or shape it into a ball.”
Iyana frowned. “How?”
“Focus on your magic and then direct it towards the flame. Imagine it becoming a ball in the palm of your hand, and then make it listen to you.”
Taking a deep breath, she focused on the feeling of magic coursing through her. In her mind, she saw a flame separate from the fire, fly through the air, and land in her palm. Once there, she willed it into a small, white-hot ball. Opening her eyes, she deflated when nothing had happened, and the connection to her magic was severed.
“It’s alright,” Altair soothed. “We’ll try again tomorrow.” They again slept on opposite sides of the camp.
The next day dawned crisp and clear. Iyana emerged from underneath her cloak (fixed and whole again thanks to Altair) stretching her arms high. Altair was already awake, doling out their portions for breakfast. Their provisions were almost fully depleted.
“We should make it to the town by nightfall,” Altair said. “Then we can sleep in an actual bed.”
Iyana perked up. “A bed?” she asked excitedly. Altair nodded warily. “Like, feather-stuffed?”
“I’d assume so,” he said. She shrieked, and he pulled back, alarmed and confused. “I don’t understand…”
“I’ve never slept in a proper bed before! I mean, sure, my cot was comfortable, but oh gods,” she moaned. “It’s going to be like sleeping on a cloud. The merchants sometimes had them, but our town doesn’t really barter with money, so—” She looked to Altair, concerned. “I don’t have any coin. How are we going to stay somewhere if we can’t pay?”
Altair chuckled. “Don’t worry, I can conjure coin.” Of course he can.
Iyana wanted to skip her way to town. Her exuberance seemed to make Altair lighter as well, and they chatted about inane things of no consequence while they walked. She liked this side of him. Open, smiling, chatty. It made her want to touch him, to brush that stray bit of hair away from his forehead, run her hand down his arm when he said something funny, hold his hand. He definitely caught her sneaking small glances at him. The smirk perpetually on his face until they stopped for lunch gave him away.
“I have an idea,” said Altair. Iyana nodded for him to continue, her mouth full of food. “I think you had a hard time last night with the fire because elemental magic is foreign to you. But you do have experience with medicine, so I want you to make the simplest potion you can think of that needs activation to work.”
“I can do that,” said Iyana through her mouthful of food. She immediately started searching through her pack and putting together the necessary ingredients, falling easily into the motions. Altair moved in closer so he could watch her work.
“What are you making?” he asked.
She laughed. “It’s just a hangover cure. It combines spring water, ginger, bitter almonds, and willow bark with a splash of eel’s blood.” Altair’s face scrunched up in disgust. “I know, I know,” she giggled. “But I promise when it’s activated, it doesn’t taste bad at all.” Once she had completed the mixing of the potion, the part she was familiar with, she knelt on the dewy forest floor, the knees of her breeches soaking through. Holding the vial lightly between her hands, she took a deep breath. How many times over the years had she tried this exact thing with no results? What if she couldn’t perform magic at all beyond touching it? Would Altair abandon her to find someone else to eliminate Uther? Would he kill her to usher in the next Aztia if she turned out to be a dud? What—
Altair curled his warm hands around hers, effectively stopping her spiraling train of thought.
“Iyana, my star,” he murmured gently. “Whatever it is you’re thinking, stop. You can do this.”
“What if I can’t?” she whispered.
The star lifted her chin with a finger until he forced her to look into those terribly perfect golden eyes. “How about we make it interesting?”
She squinted at him, suspicious. “I’m listening.”
A slow smirk spread across his face. “If you activate your potion, you’ll win a prize.”
“What would I win?”
“It’s a surprise.”
“How do I know it’s worth it, then?”
“Oh, it’s worth it,” Altair said with another smirk.
Iyana thought on it. “And if I can’t activate the potion?”
“You’ll wear your shoes the rest of the way to town.”
She gasped indignantly. “Oh, I’m winning this.” Altair just chuckled.
Settling in on her knees again, Iyana closed her eyes. Altair’s hands were still over her own, but it was comforting, not distracting. She tapped into her magic instantly, and then tried to direct it at the potion, but it felt as though a solid wall was in her way and there was no way to break through. Iyana battered against it; she would bring it down brick by brick if she had to.
“Focus,” said Altair.
“I am focusing,” Iyana gritted out.
“You’re forcing it, love,” he said. “Turn your mind to the potion, envision all the individual ingredients—the ones you’re intimately familiar with—coming together. Recognize the potential they have separately and together. And then…turn it on.”
He was right. She knew these ingredients. What each of them could and couldn’t do on their own, their best applications, what to mix together to gain the desired outcomes. She’d been studying this practically since she was born. The only difference now was the magic. Probing out towards the potion gently, she identified each ingredient. The spring water poured through her, the eel slipping across her skin. She smelled the spice of the ginger and tasted the almonds with their hint of cyanide. The willow bark made her grounded, rooted to the earth. She was a part of nature, and it was a part of her. Then she wove the ingredients together, willing them into what she desired. And…it worked. The change was almost instantaneous. Subtle, but her magic detected the difference.
Opening her eyes, she saw Altair grinning widely. “I did it!” she exclaimed.
“You did,” he said, proudly.
“I believe,” she said, bragging, “you promised me a prize.” She was going to ride this high all the way to town. And then she’d sleep in an actual bed. This was turning out to be the best day of her life.
“I did.”
“Well, then, pay up.”
Altair took his hands off of Iyana’s, and ever so slowly raised them to cup her face. His thumbs stroked along her cheekbones, and her breath lodged in her throat. Tingling fire followed in their wake. Golden eyes followed the tracks of his thumbs, then dipped to gaze at her lips.
“So beautiful,” he muttered. Then his lips crashed onto hers, his hands tangling themselves in her hair. Shock ricocheted through Iyana. Altair had flirted with her, sure, and there was the ‘incident,’ but she’d never thought this was an actual possibility. His lips were so soft, just as she thought they would be. Sleeping next to him in the cave, she’d wanted to kiss him. Wanted to learn what he tasted like.
Angling her head back, he deepened the kiss, sweeping his tongue across her lips. With a breathy moan, she opened for him, her tongue dancing along his. The vial lay forgotten on the ground as she clutched his shirt, desperate to get closer. She wanted more, needed more. Iyana was determined to feel his skin against hers. But before she could try to reach inside his shirt, or pull him to the ground, or clamber into his lap, he suddenly stopped. Whispering something quietly against her lips, his bright gilded eyes stared into hers. Her lips lamented the loss of his. Altair’s hands remained in her hair, and hers fisted in his shirt. In his gaze, she thought she saw adoration, but also confusion.
“I’m so sorry, my star,” he said, detangling his fingers from her long hair, “but I can’t.”
Iyana’s hands went slack from shock. Was he not the one just kissing her without abandon? She must have read the situation wrong. Again. He was giving her what she wanted in order to manipulate her to do his bidding. She’d been so foolish. Embarrassment hit her first, but fuck that. Fuck him. Righteous anger filled her body, and she shoved him away.
“Phaedros fucking take me, Altair, you’re going to give me fucking whiplash,” she yelled. He sat back on his knees, letting her say her piece. “First, you make all these innuendos, and corner me naked in a hot spring, and then you don’t talk to me for almost three days! Now, you’re giving me the best godsdamn kiss of my life and then saying you can’t? Can’t what?”
“The best kiss of your life?” he asked, smirking. Of course, that would be the only thing a man would take away from her rant. Iyana rolled her eyes.
“Not the important part, Altair,” she said, still seething. “Do you want me, or not? I don’t need this back and forth. And I loathe playing games. I’m too old for this shit, and so are you.”
“No games, my star,” he said, solemnly. “I can’t—we can’t, because—” She waited for him to continue, but he didn’t. Instead, he sat there, staring at his hands. His eyes were the dullest she’d seen them.
“Because why, Altair?” she asked, resigned. The fight drained out of her. “Because I’m human?”
He shook his head.
“Then what?” she yelled, exacerbated now by this back and forth with no concrete answers.
“Because you’re the Aztia!” he shouted. Iyana sat back on her heels, surprised by his outburst. His emotions always seemed to waver between stoic or withdrawn and mischievous. This was a new side to him. He ran a hand through his hair. “Look, the stars and the original Aztia had a…falling out before we went to the sky. And my family sent me here with explicit instructions to get close to you and guide you, but not too close.” He sighed. “But then I met you, and you’re this fucking gorgeous woman with aggravating quirks like not wearing shoes even when it’s in your best interest, and I knew right away I was lost.”
Now Iyana was confused, even while her heart soared at his words. He thought she was gorgeous. “So…what’s the problem?”
His expression was pleading with her. “I have been strictly forbidden to do what I’ve just done, and if I don’t stop myself now, there is nothing in this world or the next that will keep me from you.”
“Altair,” she said, gently. He closed his eyes, blowing out a shaky breath, like his name on her lips was his undoing. When he opened them again, instead of the dull gold color of a moment ago, they were sparkling with heat and desire.
“Fuck it,” he said, grabbing her waist and tugging her onto his lap. It happened so fast Iyana didn’t have time to react before he was kissing her again. But this time it was slower, more tender. His hand cupped her cheek. She ran her fingers through his deliciously silky hair. The passion from a minute before had tempered. Iyana sighed, and Altair pulled her closer to him, fingers digging into her waist. They kissed languidly for several minutes, neither one of them attempting to further things. Happy to stay in this moment.
As they slowed and broke apart, Iyana experienced a sense of peace and completeness she’d never felt before. She also felt something large and hard underneath her, and she slowly ground her hips against Altair. Rough hands grabbed her hips to still her.
“Astalle,” he growled. “Not here.” His eyes were intense on hers as his voice deepened. “When I take you for the first time—because it will be when, not if—it will not be on a forest floor.”
A shiver of excitement and anticipation ran through her, but her mind caught on to something he’d said. “What did you call me?”
“Astalle?”
“Yes, how did you know my surname? I don’t think I’ve ever told you.”
A crease formed between his brows. “Astalle is your surname?”
“Obviously, why else would you call me that?” asked Iyana, thoroughly confused.
Altair barked a surprised laugh. “It would be your surname…” He laughed again, louder. “Astalle in the old language means starheart. It was—it was a term of endearment.”
Iyana suddenly enjoyed her name much more, especially rolling off his tongue. Sighing, she stood up off his lap. It was getting into the late afternoon, a cooler bite to the air as the sun hung low in the sky. They were hoping to reach an inn before all the rooms were taken, and if she didn’t stop touching him now, she wouldn’t care about his promise not to fuck her in the woods. Still, shoving him to the ground and tearing his clothes off was tempting. Altair chuckled.
“Come on, my star, let’s get you into the bed you’ve been lusting after.”
“Yes, please,” she chirped, now looking forward to things other than sleep.