Chapter 14
CHAPTER 14
“ W here do you think you’re going?”
I thought to get ready for breakfast, but Corrik seems to have other plans. His tone, unfortunately, does not suggest anything sexual.
“Nowhere?”
“Precisely. Did you think your behavior yesterday wouldn’t cost you?” Corrik manages to sound arid and threatening at the same time.
“C’mon, Corrik. I said I was sorry.”
“Yet I’ll bet I can make you sorrier.”
I sense the ghost of a smile that suggests he’s sharing a joke with himself—his own inside joke with “other Corrik.” In my head, there are two Corriks. Right now, it’s pernicious Corrik out to play. Pernicious Corrik is hard and unyielding; he likes to watch me squirm—yet he is sarcastically dark and playful. Other Corrik has the ability to be kind, despite what the queen believes; I’ve seen it. He’s not kind in the way other people are, you have to look closely, but it’s there. Both Corriks like control, power, and each other (especially each other). He and his other half think he’s a funny Elf now—but Corrik doesn’t do funny—neither Corrik does. Someone should tell them that.
“I shall bring you breakfast. You will remain in here the rest of the day and remember this next time you should think to threaten or speak to me the way you did yesterday.”
He’s grounding me? “You can’t cage a dragon, Corrik. I’ll go mad in here. You said I could visit Diekin.”
“And you shall. Later .”
Confining me to our room is the worst punishment he could come up with. Even Father saved this for the more egregious acts.
“Spank me, please . You’ll enjoy that.”
“As much as I would enjoy that, I can’t. You are just recently healed and as good as you feel, the healing still occurs. You should be resting anyway.” He raises both brows toward me because I haven’t stopped moving toward the door. He’s still on the bed, naked, as the day is long; I have a head start: I could run. He will catch me, but it might soften his stone heart.
A smile splits my face.
“Tristan!”
I run out the door of our bedchamber that leads into the anteroom and catch the movements of the large Elf out of the corner of my eye as he takes up the pursuit. He’s quicker than I planned—though I didn’t really plan any of this. I make it as far as the outer door. Corrik’s frosted, alabaster skin is in my periphery, and I feel the ghost of his hand wisp by my wrist just as I make it out the door.
That’s as far as I get.
I yelp and laugh hysterically as his arm reaches out quick as lightning to curl around my waist. He spins us around so I’m back on the inside of the door and shuts it with his arse as I writhe and attempt fruitlessly to shimmy out of his iron grip. I still laugh at myself. It was short, but fun. I don’t think I’ve laughed like that since…? Well, I can’t remember.
Corrik tosses me on the bed. His face is trackless, but I sense lightness in his posture. “You will stay in your cage, Dragon. ”
His lips are a rigid line (Corrik’s form of a smile) and his dark eyes almost twinkle. He liked my game.
Victory for Dragon House.
“All right, but I’m hungry Corrik,” I whine.
“Your stomach will be the death of me,” he mutters as he pulls on a pair of pants and slings his sword onto his back. He’s quite the sight like that. Impenetrable warrior meets Elven farmer. I have to stifle a giggle—Corrik doesn’t go anywhere without his sword.
“Couldn’t we send someone to fetch us something?”
“Yes, but after yesterday I would prefer to watch them prepare your food with my own eyes.”
“Corrik, seriously .”
“I am serious.”
I t seems to take forever, but finally he returns. I attempted to read his book while he was gone, but it’s in Elvish of course so I had fun looking at the pictures and pretending what I think the pages might say.
“Any luck with that?” he says putting a plate down on the bed by me. He’s making fun again. Since when did Corrik become “Mr. Relaxed-Fun-Guy?”
“Yes. I think I’ve managed to figure out every time the author swears since I’ve some experience with that,” I tease him back. “What is this, Corrik?” I shake the book.
“It’s about magic.”
“Don’t you know everything about magic?”
“No one can possibly know everything about magic. I’ve many years to go before I reach the level of mastery of some of my siblings.”
“What is it?” I say again, still waving the book.
“Geological magic. I’m trying to figure out how the Rogue Elves could have discovered us,” he says swiping the book from my hand, and I’m surprised by his offer of information. Is it possible something I said to Corrik has penetrated his stubbornness?
“Couldn’t you ask someone?”
“Is that how you solve all your problems? Ask everyone else?”
“No,” I say, offended. “It just seems rather time sensitive.”
His hard features relax. “I could, yes, but Father is already doing something about it, and he suggested I attempt to figure this out on my own since there is no danger in me taking the time to do so.”
I’m intrigued by this knowledge. Old as he is, Corrik is a student too. Makes sense though considering Elves live forever.
“So, have you?” I ask.
“Have I what?”
“Figured it out?”
“Not yet, but I think I’m close.”
“Maybe I can help.”
“Help? What do you know of magic? You can’t even read the words.”
“Give me that book back, hot shot.” I snatch the book back from him, pop a grape into my mouth and flip through the pages thinking on them a moment. “Ah. See this picture here? There are clouds over the sun. I envision—though I know little of magic, some kind of, I don’t know, ‘geological magic,’ might depend on the sun and clouds to hide our location so we can’t be traced?”
“In simple terms, correct.”
I flip the page ignoring his jibe at my intellect. “Anyway, that is for day, at night, the same thing must be done somehow involving stars because the stars are a guide. I know that from traveling with Father. The North Star, for instance, is a guiding star. The constellations can be used to track someone with magic I’m thinking.”
“Correct again, you’ve done well, but your analysis is of no use to me; I already know all of this information and have a far better understanding. You can’t help me.” It’s a dare. He wants me to keep going. I think I’ve impressed him .
“Essentially, we are dealing with time too; day and night, makes me think about the time in between day and night. When I was a little boy, Papa would tell me stories and sing me songs of his homeland. He is not of Markaytia, but several provinces over. A province called Nosklac. A particular rhyme, perhaps a ridiculous one, he sang to me, comes to mind when I look at the pictures in this book. ‘Day turns to night, night turns to day, but the time in between is ours for play.’ I don’t know what the pictures are, I didn’t even know what the book was until you told me, but when you did, it clicked into place in my head and that’s what I think. Whatever they did has got to do with the time in between day and night. A loophole, perhaps.”
Corrik is quiet and looks me over like he’s never seen me before. “That’s what you got from looking at pictures?”
I nod. “Am I close?”
“You are. The time between day and night is called twilight. Not a time for children to be playing so you are right, the rhyme is ridiculous.”
“I know what twilight is, I was explaining it like that to show you there are more ways to come up with an answer than simply reading about it. I meant the rhyme is ridiculous relative to the answer—not ridiculous to me,” I say. The rhyme means a lot, silly as it is. “It was just the thing to trigger my brain to finding what I thought might be a loophole.”
“Touché, D’orhai. You are correct—your strange method of derivation aside—it’s a twilight spell. I just don’t know which one or if it’s something new.”
“New? Can new magic be created?”
“Of course,” he says like it should be obvious and is high on himself because he still knows more than I do about magic.
I suppose it should be obvious though. There are always new ways of doing everything else, why not magic too?
I commence eating; I really am starving. Corrik spent a long-time last night showing me how much he cares for me. He likes to demonstrate his feelings with several rounds of sex. I don’t mind .
Corrik takes my lead for once and begins eating when I do.
“Thank you, for breakfast.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Do I have to remain in here all day?”
“You do but not to worry. I’ll make sure you are kept occupied. ”
O f course, I thought he meant he’d make me (okay, hoped he’d make me) perform sexual acts for him all day, but after breakfast he excused himself saying he had things to get done. He handed me a fat, heavy book.
“This has been written just for you.”
“Markaytian to Elvish in three hundred days,” I read from the title. “Corrik what is this?”
“A Professor at the University, Cupper Sphir. I had him write this specially for you.”
“If he’s just written it, why does it look so old?”
“It’s old to you . I had him write it when I first had my vision of you—it’s more than a century old.”
I huffed but accepted it. “I want you to work on that today during your confinement. Make sure you sit by the window so you can see what a lovely day you’re missing out on.”
Bastard, Elf!
That was several hours ago, now the sun is at half-mast. I didn’t dare take a break—except to eat my lunch earlier—because Corrik warned that if he came in to find me not-working, I would spend tomorrow doing this very thing on a sore arse.
I do want to learn their language, but I have never enjoyed learning from books alone. This Cupper guy, it’s like he knew me and wrote the giant tome with my learning style in mind. His instructions are efficient and engage me, I’m surprised at the headway I’ve made in the time my husband is gone.
When Corrik returns, he greets me with a simple question in Elvish and despite the complicated accent, I can make out what he says. I try to answer back. Corrik understands me, but his cruel mouth twists in distaste at my poor accent.
I’m happy when I’m dismissed to see Diekin, wanting a break from the stringent taskmaster.
I run away fast before he can change his mind. I’ve thought of Diekin a time or two over the course of the day. I don’t know the reason he merited punishment in the first place, but from his nervous behavior at dinner that night, he expected it.
“Come in,” he says.
I enter to Diekin who’s pouring over books much like I was moments ago. He doesn’t look injured, just annoyed.
“Oh thank, Ylor! It is you and not Corrik. Though it would be kind if you didn’t tell him I said that.”
“What did he do to you, Diekin?” For Diekin to not want to see Corrik, Corrik must have been torturing him all day somehow .
“This!” he says disgusted, gesturing to the mountain of books that surround him. “That sadistic maniac has suspended me from the royal guard and instead I must spend my time studying this nonsense! Every hour it seems, he shows up with another stack of books. Who knew there were so many books aboard this ship?”
I realize now how easy Corrik went on me. “What would he have you study?”
He sighs. “I suppose I should tell you now. He is angry with me— extremely angry —for the way I handled your safety or as he says, lack thereof, when the Rogue Elf attacked us. All of these books are on battle technique and battle history and when we reach Mortouge, if my mate agrees, I will return to the training fields full time.”
“That’s preposterous, Diekin. You aren’t responsible for my injuries. You were almost killed too.”
His silence tells me he disagrees with me.
“You can’t be serious, Diekin. Is this an Elven thing I’m missing?”
“You almost died because of me. ”
“We all lose battles, Diekin. Even the best of us.” It’s something my father used to tell me.
“Yes, but not Elves chosen for the royal guard. Corrik said I might join the palace guard, or even the city guard when we return home, but I am not fit for the royal guard at this time as demonstrated by my lack of skill.”
“I distracted you. I should’ve listened and gone back to my chambers like you said. This isn’t your fault.” Perhaps I should start listening to what the Elves tell me to do. Now Diekin pays the price for my pig-head.
“I shouldn’t have allowed you to distract me. A better swordsman would not have. You know this, young Warlord. No. Corrik is right to punish me, and I am ashamed. Of course, I will complain over my punishment to my fellow brats, like you, but I will serve it admirably for whatever amount of time Corrik feels I owe. Though between me and you, I hope it’s sooner rather than later,” he says with a wink.
“I’ll talk to him. I’ll talk with Corrik and make him see it was my fault."
“Please don’t. I deserve this and if I don’t serve some kind of punishment, it will eat me alive. Corrik knows this too; he is a wise Top, though I did try to bargain a spanking out of him. But he makes the punishments, not I, ” he recites in a mocking voice. “I care about you a lot, Tristan, and I am torn up that the first harm you came by was on my watch. I’m sorry and I swear I’ll make it up to you, even if I’m stuck on the palace guard for the next five years.”
“It could be that long?”
“It could be longer. Alrik, Corrik’s eldest brother, once sentenced Corrik to a ten-year restriction to the palace for an offense far smaller than this.”
Right. Elves. Immortality. Ten years is a blink to them. Still I couldn’t imagine being grounded that long. “A Top can be punished too?”
“Yes,” he nods. “By anyone who is elder. No one is free of consequences in Mortouge. ”
“What was he punished for?”
“Disrespect.”
“That’s all?”
“You have seen Corrik’s temper. It was several times too many, and he had been warned. Even the king agreed to that one.”
Wow.
Corrik wasn’t just lenient with me, he’d barely punished me at all. Maybe I do have him wrapped around my little Markaytian finger.
“Well, if it’s any consolation, Corrik may come spank you yet. I ratted you out for telling me about the Rogue Elves,” I say.
He smiles his big Diekin smile. “Thank you, brother, and look at me with no gift for you.”
“There’s more. Corrik said we could hang out. He was quite vague about it so I’m assuming that means you’re released for a time. He also seemed certain we wouldn’t have any more problems with Rogue Elves, at least while aboard the ship.”
“Yes. It does mean that. You must put him in a good mood for him to be giving rewards so soon. And yes, the king joined the royal guard and Corrik on a hunt into every crevice of the ship today. He and Corrik used their magic; they found no more stowaways.”
That was probably the true reason behind the type of punishment he doled out— get Tristan out of the way; keep him out of danger while we search the ship .
“What happened after I left with the Rogue Elf? Did you kill him or was it Corrik?”
Diekin shakes his head. “He died, Tristan. He had been buying time by answering our questions and stalling with his begging while he gathered strength enough for one last bout of magic. He didn’t give himself away until the end when he became weak, which is ironically the time the magic built up in him was the strongest. It does not offer him any protection, immunity, or personal strength; it’s something that once gathered must be released. Once released, it takes with it the essence—the life force—of the Elf. He died the moment he unleashed his power on you.”
“A suicide?” Why do the Rogue Elves want me dead?
Diekin nods. “But enough of this morose talk. Corrik is giving me a break to hang out with one of my new favorite people. Let’s get out of here.”