Chapter 7
Seven
Grayson
My heart pounded, my blood racing through my veins.
All I could hear was the rush of fluid zipping through me at an unhealthy rate.
That had been a close call. Too close. I slammed my connection to my flame closed too abruptly, the experience jarring and disorienting.
The harsh fall onto the floor didn’t help matters either.
Vision fuzzy, I blinked a few times, attempting to get my bearings. Relief flooded me when I realized I was still in my room. Wiggling my toes and fingers reassured me I’d reformed with all my parts intact.
Sweat clung to my body, coating me in its sour scent.
That odor was made all the worse by the thread of fear echoing through it.
I’d thought I could do this, but maybe I was wrong.
Maybe the risk was too great. I’d been able to single out the song of Hikaru’s tail.
Its wail had been mournfully powerful. Its need to be found had been so great it helped me push away the other songs vying for attention.
Now that it had been found, I was left sorting through the songs begging for attention, each calling with greedy desperation.
I wasn’t certain if my aching body was due to being pulled in so many directions or the fall onto the floor.
Most likely it was a combination of the two.
Slowly shifting, I worked my hands under my chest, palms flat on the floor.
I’d never willingly admit the draining effort it took to push myself up and flip myself over.
Now in a sitting position, I leaned heavily against the side of my bed.
Breaths harsh and too rapid, I grasped the fabric over my still-hammering heart and closed my eyes.
Legs sprawled out before me, I was alarmed my solidified body was still shaking, as if it wanted to fly apart again and seek out all the treasure calling to me.
I wouldn’t go so far as to say this was a nightmare, but it was close.
“You don’t look so good.”
My eyes fluttered open to find Henry perched on my thigh. I hadn’t felt his weight when he climbed up my jean-clad leg. “Don’t feel so good either,” I managed.
Arms crossed, Henry’s eyes narrowed as he studied me. “What’s the deal?”
I chuckled, my leg shaking to the point Henry’s clawed toes had to dig in for traction. “Sorry,” I half-ass apologized.
“I’ve had worse. Now, spill the tea. What’s goin’ on with you? Why do you look like roadkill?”
“You see a lot of roadkill, do you?” House dwellers didn’t get out much. They stuck to the home they’d claimed and that was about it.
“Figure of speech, and you’re stallin’.”
Was I? I wasn’t entirely certain. I’d planned on keeping my concerns regarding this job private, but my latest attempt let me know that probably wasn’t possible. What did it hurt to let Henry in on my little mishap?
“There are too many,” I answered.
“Too many what?” Henry asked, small head cocked to the side and eyes inquisitive. I knew the moment he figured it out. “Treasure? There’s too much hidden treasure?”
I considered the phrasing before shaking my head.
“Not quite. The number isn’t important. It’s the fact that there are so many different, unrelated ones.
A single treasure—even if it contains innumerable objects, will call out with one voice, one song.
Hidden together, they take on a symbiotic type of relationship.
But this… There are so many, and each and every one has its own story to tell.
It’s overwhelming.” It was more than that.
It was dangerous. “I thought I could handle it.”
“If what I just saw’s any indication, I don’t think that’s true.”
Great, now I had a witness to my close call. “You shouldn’t spy on others.” My rebuke lacked much force.
“I was concerned, not spyin’. Get over yourself. You’re not that interestin’.”
My aching heart eased enough for me to find Henry’s defensive posturing amusing. “I see. My mistake.”
“Ain’t the only one.” Henry waved a hand in my general direction. “You look like you just narrowly escaped an encounter with the reaper. This place has lost enough souls recently. Don’t add yours to the pile is all I’m sayin’.”
Maybe Henry really did care. “I’m sorry. You’re right. What I’ve been trying to do is foolish.” I tilted my head, staring up at the ceiling. My stamina was waning now that the adrenaline was wearing off.
Henry maintained his silence until he finally asked, “Could another will-o’-the-wisp do it, or will they run into the same problem? I’m not tryin’ to make you feel bad or nothin’. I just—”
“It’s not just me.” Of that I was certain. “A less experienced will-o’-the-wisp would probably be dead by now.” I wasn’t being flippant or exaggerating.
“Shit. I was only half serious earlier when I said you looked like you’d gone a few rounds with the reaper. Why dead?” Henry crouched down, his fingers gripping my jeans as he stared up at me, genuinely curious.
Inhaling, I took a moment to center myself and figure out a way to explain. “When I’m in my wisp form—”
“The fire?”
“Mm-hmm.” I nodded. “That form runs on pure instinct. Treasure’s call is like a song, each one with a different melody.
My wisp form follows that song. It grows louder and more intense the closer I get.
Typically, it’s a joyfully rewarding experience.
I love being in my wisp form, following the trail of treasure’s song.
However, when there are this many melodies, each one vying for attention, each one calling just as strong as the other, they can pull apart my wisp form. ”
Henry shifted uncomfortably. “That don’t sound so good.”
“It’s not. My wisp form is me. It contains all of me and can’t be dismantled like that. If even a single flame is separated from the group, I’ll be unable to reform. Take away enough, and not even my wisp form can sustain itself.”
“I’m still gonna go with shit here.”
I chuckled. “Sometimes it’s the word that fits the situation the best.”
Henry sighed, running his fingers through his cottony tuft of hair. Dust particles floated around, getting caught in the light. “Is there anythin’ that can be done to…I don’t know, stabilize you or somethin’?”
Henry’s question made me flinch. “Possibly.” It wasn’t an option I was eager to pursue. However, I’d tried it my way and that obviously wasn’t feasible if I wanted to continue living.
“And that would be?” Henry rolled his hand in the air as he irritatingly encouraged me to continue.
“I need an anchor.” I cringed just saying the words.
“Sounds simple enough.”
I barked out a disbelieving laugh. “Yeah, no.” I ran my hand over my face, brushing away the cooling sweat.
“Not simple at all.” Not for me and not for my anchor.
“The requirements are not easy to find. It has to be an individual who’s exceedingly steadfast, someone comfortable and secure in their own skin.
Someone who doesn’t bend or break. Someone who can hold on, no matter how much my wisp form tries to pull away.
” I swallowed hard. “And they would need to bind their magic to mine. I’d need to be able to hear them, to heed their call.
That sound needs to be stronger and more insistent than any treasure’s song. ”
Chin resting in his hand, Henry’s gaze appeared distant before lighting with something that sent a shiver of unease down my spine.
“I can think of a few possibilities.”
“Not Keir,” I said, knowing that would be exactly where Henry’s mind tracked. “He’s got too much on his mind. He’s too preoccupied to—”
“Nope.” Henry waved me off. “The old Keir could have done a proper job, but not now.” Henry’s grin intensified before he scrambled down my leg and darted across the room. “Rest up and get ready,” Henry threw over his shoulder as he disappeared into the wall.
I sat there, stupidly blinking while wondering who on earth Henry thought fit that bill.
“You want me to do what?” Martin’s wide eyes flashed from Keir to me. Henry was nowhere to be found, although I thought I heard a chuckle or two coming from a nearby wall. Most likely he was hanging around, getting a good laugh out of the situation.
Keir pinched the bridge of his nose while I calmly sat in a nearby cushioned chair, sipping the best tea I’d ever had. Honestly, this gryphon had a gift when it came to tea.
“I know this isn’t ideal,” Keir attempted to placate the furious dryad.
“Ideal? That’s what you’re getting out of this?
” Martin really did sound pissed. Or maybe just really, really stressed.
“You want me to…” He spluttered, waving a leaf-covered limb my direction.
The bright green leaves were pretty and captured my attention.
I should probably intervene, say something that might calm him down, but I wasn’t particularly keen to do so.
Nothing would come of this anyway. There was no way Martin would agree to do this. It was a waste of time.
The curious part, to me at least, was that Henry wasn’t wrong when he thought of Martin.
As an oak dryad, Martin fit nearly every criterion required of an anchor.
All but the fact that he didn’t care if my wisp form was torn asunder and I ceased to exist. Unfortunately, that was the foundation of a good anchor.
Keir inhaled, expanding his chest before releasing that breath in a heavy exhale. “Martin, I need you to take a moment and listen to me. Please.”
Martin’s mouth slammed shut but his eyes were still mutinous. “Asking me to allow Grayson Delarue into our home, into our lives, and into our deepest secrets is one thing. Asking me to mix our magics, to entwine mine with his, is something else, Keir.”
“I know, and I don’t ask it lightly. You know me too well to assume that.”
Martin threw up his hands, scattering oak leaves as his limbs receded. “Of course I know that. That isn’t the problem.”