Chapter 82
Aegir unsheathed his dagger, then tore off the sewn edges of one of the expensive-looking, silky tablecloths. He took one of the talismans from my hand and wrapped the fabric cord around it as if he were wrapping a little present.
“Turn around.”
He didn’t have to ask me twice. I lifted my hair and he tied the cord around my neck, adjusting the height of the necklace until it reached my breastbone, just below my other necklace.
“Here, let me hold this for you,” he said, pocketing the other talisman.
“Careful not to blush,” I quipped, a smirk tugging at my lips. I turned myself around.
“I had a feeling you would bring it up; I didn’t think it would be this soon.”
“Three months?”
“Nah, not that far.”
“You know what I meant.”
He grabbed me by my chin and sighed through smirking lips. “My gods, Cordelia. Ever so curious, are we now?”
I batted my eyelashes once, not denying his implication.
“Well, if you must know, I wrote the letter when we were in Dunehaven.”
“The one you were writing on the bed?”
“Looks like someone was paying attention to my actions.”
“I can say the same for you. And all the while I thought you would leave me behind.”
He barked out a short laugh. “Leave you behind? You were in Dunehaven because I couldn’t do just that.”
“I know that now.”
He closed the distance between us and wrapped one arm around my waist, dipping his head. “Oh, and to further quench your voracious curiosity, yes, I paid a lot of attention to your actions. You know, the paper-thin curtain did absolutely nothing to my Fae sight.”
I held his mischief-filled stare. “Oh, I figured that out the moment we entered the room.”
His grip tightened. “You wanted me to watch.”
My hands went to his shoulders, and I traced my fingers up and down his arm. “Mmm, I may not have completely hated the idea of it.”
His voice dropped. “You made me watch you.”
I scoffed. “Made you? You sat down to watch first.”
In a heartbeat, I found myself on the stony table, his mouth clamped to mine. I pulled him close, my hands at his back, his nape. Small sounds left me each time his thick tongue grazed mine.
Then his mouth went to my neck, like a magnet, instinctively finding the pull towards my sweet spot.
“Mmm. I think the talisman is working,” I mumbled.
“Uh-uh,” he murmured against my neck. “It still has to kick in.”
“Oh—”
He claimed my mouth once more, trailing his hands up and down the various moons on my back. Mine went to his chest. I traced the contours of his sandstone muscles.
The sound of the door creaking had us jolting. Our heads snapped towards the doorway, at which a horde of servants stood, buckets, brooms, and cloths in hand.
“We apologise, we’ll come back later,” one of them murmured.
“There’s no need. We were, uh, just leaving,” Aegir replied, fixing his shirt. I hastily slipped off the table and hid behind him. Then he grabbed my hand and pulled me along.
I trailed as he hurried us along a series of long corridors and spiralling stairs.
“Where are we going?” I asked, breath heavy.
“To answer two of your questions.”
“Could you be a little bit more specific?”
“You’ll see.”
I grunted, “You always say that.”
“But do I ever disappoint?”
A series of images flashed through my mind—Cinnamon’s stable upgrade, Cinnamon’s healed leg, Semuel and Faern.
“Never,” I admitted.
My legs turned wobbly by the time we made it to what I presumed—from the combination of howling and the smell of wet dogs—was the kennels. The howling swelled into a crescendo at Aegir’s presence. Tails wiggled and nails scratched against the fence. Their eyes, I noticed, were close to being white.
“I cannot tell if they’re dogs or wolves,” I murmured, allowing two of them to curiously and frantically sniff at my hand.
“Think of them as wolflike dogs,” Aegir replied, harnessing all six of them. “And you and I, my beautiful Ilman, are going for a ride in the snow beneath Thalassa’s full moon. You’ll love it, you’ll see.”
“Where are we going exactly?” I asked, accepting the fluffy blanket that Aegir offered me. I didn’t really need it now that I had the talisman, but the thought of snuggling with him while we moved seemed like something I would want to do.
“To a place called Silvermeer. It’s only a couple of hours away.”
I also accepted the waterskins and the lantern.
I was right. Snuggling beneath the blanket felt nice. I often rested my head against his shoulder, not knowing which was more striking.
The view before me—majestic wolflike snow dogs pulling rhythmically along the stretch of ice and a scattering of bursting trees.
The view above me—a silver shining full moon, the star of the universe amongst hues of green in a twinkling night sky.
Or the view to my right—green eyes surrounded by a golden-brown rim.
They always stood out when he wore green. Everything was just…beautiful.
We had been moving at an incline for the past half an hour and an even steeper one approached.
I thought we would have to go around it, but Aegir winked at me and stood, feet parted.
He lifted his arms forward, thrusting his palms. We moved up at high speed, yet I was not shifted backwards like expected.
When I looked behind me, I noticed that we were gliding against moving snow that lifted us in tandem with the dogs’ gait.
Then I decided that that was the most beautiful thing. I had seen him wield ice before, but never in his true Element. I wished I had Amani or Macy’s talent. I would have surely drawn that exact moment if I did.
Moving in parallel to the mountain’s incline obstructed my field of vision and I wondered how long we had to move like that.
Aegir sitting down as soon as we met flat land told me not for long.
Minutes later, we approached a cliff, and Aegir commanded the dogs to slow down, to halt.
Then he offered me his palm and walked us towards the edge of the cliff.
The view of the moon was unobstructed; it shimmered gracefully above our heads as if Thalassa herself was gleaming with excitement.
At first, I thought that space itself extended beyond the horizon—an anomaly, a tear in the universal structure—but then I noticed that the sparkling stars at the bottom of the cliff were not a continuation of the starry sky, but a constellation of flickering lights.
My eyes adjusted and with the help of the moonlight I could make out the outlines of streets and houses.
What I saw below us was not the sky, it was land—it was a village.
“Welcome to the village of Silvermeer. Well, actually, welcome above the village of Silvermeer.”
“What is this place?”
“See for yourself,” Aegir said, handing me a round talisman of sorts.
I grabbed hold of the talisman and assessed it, unsure what to do with it.
Aegir closed in behind me and guided my hand towards my right eye.
“Close your left eye,” he whispered close to my ear.
I obeyed. Then he grabbed hold of my arm and shoulder and guided my gaze.
I gasped the instant the talisman adjusted, homing me in with the sharp vision of an eagle.
“You should see it, right, there,” Aegir mumbled.
My face softened at the sight of her.
A marbled statue of Thalassa—goddess of the moon and water.
She was beyond beautiful, in her sea form.
She stood tall, with her webbed hands exposed at her sides.
Detailed carvings gave the impression of her being surrounded by splashing waters that reached up to her thighs.
And her polished face with a big pair of intent eyes screamed I am goddess.
“She’s beautiful,” I whispered. My goddess.
Then he let go of my shoulders, allowing me to explore the village as I pleased.
I immediately recognised the architecture—white detached houses with pointed roofs painted in a very particular shade of blue. I also recognised the symbols of Thalassa’s moon carved above the wooden doors.
My eye settled on a window, and I watched a little girl seated in front of a dresser. Her mother was braiding her hair, the same way my mother used to braid mine before tucking me in bed. I recognised that, too.
I gasped. “They’re Ilmans.”