37. ACHERON
Kaine’s words planted little seeds of doubt in Ash’s mind. Did looking upon his face bring her pain?
Surely not.
Ash surveyed the town of Soxis with a deep sadness in his heart. Its buildings were worn, the ground gritty and dry. The air was no longer fresh. The people however, still had a brightness to them, despite their faces being gaunter than he’d seen any Fae before. The blight plaguing Faery had reached the Spring Court not long ago and it was clear the effects were devastating.
As Ash, Deymos and Nemy walked through the town centre, Fae from various courts moved to watch them. This was the part of being a guardian angel that Ash felt most uncomfortable with. He didn’t think he’d ever get used to it. The townspeople gawked and pointed at the wings the Tienthan bore. Some even muttered prayers while others came up to them, thanking Ash and his friends for taking time out of their day to visit. Ash gave a small smile to those he passed as they moved toward Asteria Hold where Eros had asked them to meet him. A mixture of fear and hope washed over the eyes of the people of Faery the closer they got to the Spring Court’s centre.
They finally reached the green wooden door to Asteria Hold’s receiving room. Its golden handles were carved in the shape of fern leaves and flecks of gold scattered throughout the green paint. It opened before them on a silent wind.
Ash was first to move across the grass, the evening sun shining a golden light into the circular skylight fixed above them.
Ash spotted Eros first. The god of love knelt on the grass, both of his hands holding that of a delicate, tanned-skinned Fae female. Her eyes were washed with concern and it looked like Eros was comforting her. “Lady Ollette wanted to meet you all. She is the High Lady of Soxis.” Eros smiled back at Ash.
Ash gave a polite nod.
Around Lady Ollette sat another Fae female with raven hair and olive skin. Eros moved from the grass to her. “This is Lady Firtha, High Lady of Wrenntia.” He pointed to a Fae male with silky, dark maroon hair and dark brown skin, “This is Lord Fern, High Lord of Fyllera.” Eros then pointed to the last Fae male with long, blond hair and light-purple eyes. “And this is Regin Taliesin, blacksmith by trade and for lack of a better term, leader of the rebellion against the blood throne.”
Ash’s heart rate spiked at the mention of Regin’s last name. He was related to Sofreya then.
Regin watched Ash with a cautious eye, no doubt having a visceral reaction to his outward appearance and how similar it was to Kaine’s. Ash didn’t blame him. The sight of Kaine before him was the strangest thing he’d ever experienced too. Ash shook off the unease that coiled in his feathers.
“Thank you for welcoming us,” Ash said with a hand on his bare chest.
“It is us who needs to give thanks. The portal and the power it holds is beyond us.” Lady Ollette circled a finger around the group surrounding her. “Kind Eros here has assured us that the Tienthan are willing to help.” She moved from the grass, taking slow steps toward Ash as if he were . . . some sort of holy being.
I guess I am, but I’m not that intimidating, am I?
Lady Ollette, with sure hands took a hold of Ash’s. She looked up at him with hope in her eyes. “So, thank you. Our people are suffering, but if we have the mighty Tienthan by our side then there is hope yet. Hope that we will be able to stop the blood throne’s treachery.”
“We will put an end to this, one way or another,” Nemy chimed in from behind. Thank the Fates for that, because Ash always found it difficult to navigate gratitude. He never needed it. Nor did he need praise. Growing up alone did that to him.
Lady Ollette turned to squeeze Nemysis’s hands. The rest of the high Fae watched on with hope in their eyes.
Eros moved to join Ash. “We’ll be in contact, Lady Ollette.” Eros dipped his head, spreading his pure white wings behind him.
“And we’ll send down some supplies, rations and water for you.” Ash nodded before ushering out his closest circle of friends. Ash was about to close the receiving room door behind him when heavy footfalls sounded, inching closer to him. Ash turned to find Regin with a worried look on his face.
The blond blacksmith with eyes like Sofreya’s looked at Ash, then noted his swirling tattoos that sprawled on his right arm, with a pointed look. Ash instinctively pulled his right arm out of view.
“How is she?” Regin whispered.
Ash blinked in surprise. He knew exactly who Regin was referring to. The thought of her alone made his heart sing. “She’s happy.”
“Good. Take care of her.” Regin smiled, clapping a hand to Ash’s shoulder.
The reaction made Ash feel warm inside. Ash gave the blacksmith a curt nod before joining his cadre who waited patiently outside.
“What was that?” Eros cooed.
“Nothing,” Ash groaned.
“Was it about someone who rhymes with trophy?”
“Shut it.” Without another word Ash rushed into the sky. He didn’t wait to see if his friends followed.
Ash landed back on the Isle of Deos, greeted by its thick summery air. He let out a sigh of relief as he opened the door to his villa. The day did not go according to plan. They were sent down to scope out the portal, gather intel and observe how the Fae population surrounding it were faring. It ended up with an accidental trip to the Shadow Realm, a press tour in Faery’s dying Spring Court and most importantly . . . Artemis was missing.
I need a drink.
Ash wished away his sandals and cleaned himself up with a flick of his magic. He’d deal with the deep layer of dirt that only a shower could get rid of, later. He sunk into the brown leather couch and wished to the Fates that he wouldn’t have to get up for several days. Calypso was nowhere to be found. He was probably nuzzling against Sofreya.
Sofreya.
Should I? No, I shouldn’t.
She was probably resting after her training session earlier today. He could just see her tomorrow, but he could also send a message to her now. It wouldn’t hurt right? Or perhaps the words of Kaine hit much closer to home than he thought.
Ash sat up quickly with a frown upon his face. Why on earth was he acting like a prepubescent boy with a giant crush on the girl next door? Well technically, the girl three doors down. Ash shook his head to clear it. He was a full-grown male for Fates’ sake.
Fuck it.
He pulled a piece of parchment from the table and scrawled a message.
Acheron:
What are you doing this evening?
Ash sent it off on a puff of smoke. He felt his hands warm, and he shook his knee in anticipation. He waited for a moment but grew impatient when nothing puffed back in response. He stormed to his shower in a huff. Shedding off his uniform, he stepped inside the black marble shower and let the cold water run through his wings, being sure to keep the patch of broken feathers out of the water’s way so they didn’t get wet. He rested his head upon the cool tiles. The situation between Faery and the Shadow Realm was escalating and given the dire state that the rebel side of Faery were in, he wasn’t sure how they’d survive. It made Ash angry; it made him want to—
A messenger scroll puffed into the shower with a pop.
Ash snatched it from the air with a growl.
Sophie:
Is this some sort of booty call? Not impressed.
You’ve interrupted Cal and I’s backyard yoga session.
Ash bit his lip. He didn’t know whether it was the adrenalin crash or the pain from the chunk of feathers that was missing from his fate-forsaken wing, but the thought of Sofreya in shorts, doing yoga poses in the summer heat, sweat slicking her body was doing all sorts of things to him. Sorts of things that needed to be sorted. Immediately.
Ash scribbled a message in response. Then crossed it out. Then scribbled it back on. Frustrated, he ended his cold shower, dried himself with his magic and flopped onto his bed.
Acheron:
Not a booty call. Unless . . .
Ash sent the message before he could stop himself. He was smiling like an idiot. An idiot who was definitely not meant to be crossing the best-friendship line, but here he was kicking it with his toe, seeing if it would budge.
A beat passed.
Sofreya:
Get your head out of the gutter you smut-loving angel . . .
Heard you had a bit of a rough day.
Want to come by and talk about it? And binge watch Twilight after? It’ll make you feel better, I promise.
Ash let out a laugh. His heart did that squeezing thing that he dared not acknowledge. He could almost see her, with her starlight hair and the little scrunch on her nose as she took a jibe at him.
Acheron:
Talk, yes. Twilight? Maybe you can convince me after a couple of drinks. Soul City? I can pick you up in about thirty minutes.
Ash sent off the piece of parchment. Clasping his hands over his stomach, he waited patiently for what felt like an eternity. Sofreya’s response puffed into existence right above his face. Ash quickly unfurled it with a silly grin.
Sofreya:
It’s a date.
Ash sputtered at the words that scrawled across the piece of parchment. He had to sit up, clear his vision with several blinks, before reading it again. It’s a date. Wait, was it a date? What did these words mean? Was this permission? A green light to forego the whole best-friend, clean-slate deal and act upon the undoubted, inseparable, gravity-defying connection they had?
Ash dropped back onto his bed, groaning. The Fates were testing him. There was no other explanation for this turmoil he found himself in.