Chapter 11
Eleven
Grayson
What went wrong? Martin was meant to anchor me, not the other way around.
Thankfully, I hadn’t been in my full wisp form and had been able to bank my flame, immediately erasing the songs plaguing Martin’s mind.
If I hadn’t…I hated to think what might have happened.
All along, I’d been worried if Martin failed that I would be the one paying the price.
I hadn’t considered what it might do to my dryad anchor.
When I was only risking myself, that had been acceptable. Risking Martin as well…not so much.
Resting in Martin’s lap, I hardly knew what to do with myself or the comfort easing through my body.
It shouldn’t have felt this good—being held.
I barely registered when Martin moved, scooting both of us so he could lean against the bed.
I should have pushed him away. I should have tried to get up, and…
I had no idea how to finish that thought. Maybe that’s why I stayed.
Seconds turned into minutes. I halfway expected Henry to dart out of the wall, scramble up my leg, and offer some bit of infinite wisdom.
Whether Henry was around or not remained a mystery as he did not reveal himself.
Looked like Martin and I were alone in our combined confusion.
There was no great and wise guru to pull us out of the pit.
“It was overwhelming.” Martin finally broke the silence. “I wasn’t expecting that.”
“I’m not certain you should have.”
“It’s what you described. I should have been more prepared, although, admittedly, I’m not certain what that preparedness would look like.” Confusion colored Martin’s words. “Now that I know what to expect, I’d like to try again.”
I shook my head, finally pulling away so I could look into Martin’s determined eyes. “No, I—”
“Listen.” Martin grabbed my face, cradling my chin much as I’d done earlier with him. “I’ve been sitting here, thinking about what happened, and I may have an idea. I wouldn’t recommend trying again if I didn’t have a plan.”
I was still skeptical. “I’m not sure. I—”
“I’ll be sure enough for both of us.” Martin leaned in, doing the most surprising thing and pressing his lips against my forehead. “Trust me.”
There wasn’t really a reason I should, and yet I found logical reason was highly overrated. Sometimes, you had to go with your gut and tell your brain to take a hike. That wasn’t always the smartest path, but sometimes it was the only one available.
Giving in, I tried to scoot out of Martin’s hold, only for his arms to tighten.
When I gave him a questioning look, he said, “I like you here better.” His cheeks were stained pink and his eyes had a difficult time meeting mine.
Spreading his legs. Martin moved me until I was wedged on the floor, my back to his front and his arms wrapped around my middle.
“Is there a way for you to go a bit slower?”
My fingertips lit with the barest flame. “Can you hear the music?”
“I can,” Martin answered, humming a tune. “Do you think it’s safe to say that the song I currently hear is the strongest?”
“I… Yes, that’s fair. The others come along later, but the first generally has the greatest pull, the greatest desire to be found.
” That’s what happened with Hikaru’s tail.
Its song was so far and above the others, I’d been able to focus on it.
Now that the tail had been found, the other songs were more similar in strength. Still, there were differences.
“Got it. I didn’t realize what was happening before. Now that I know it’s treasure’s song I’m hearing, then I can focus on this one. The first one. I want to try that as you add more on.”
“Okay.” I wasn’t truly okay with the thought.
Focusing on that first song was something I’d already tried and had been nearly ripped apart for the effort.
Growing my flame, I gave more of my body over to my wisp form.
Treasures’ songs filled my mind, pulsing through my head as different notes competed with each other.
I expected Martin to cry out any moment.
Instead, those added songs receded. They didn’t go away completely, but they quieted, allowing the first, neediest song space to be heard.
The song was insistent, its tune full of anger. It wasn’t pleasant. The furious cords scratched at my mind, demanding justice.
Before I knew it, my body dissipated, fully falling into my wisp form.
I was little more than a blue flame of instinct as I followed that furious song.
I slipped through doorways and corridors.
Walls were nothing to me as I made my way closer and closer to that sound, its chorus rising in tempo and pitch until it was like someone had turned the volume up as high as it would go.
Instinct told me I’d found what I was looking for, and my body reformed.
I found myself alone. Most likely my path had taken me through places Martin could not possibly follow.
The room was dark and a little musty, but there was a hint of lavender that tickled my nose.
My hands blindly reached out in the darkness, my palms meeting rough stone.
A wooden mantle came next, indicating I was standing in front of a fireplace.
Shuffling around, I kept my hands on the wall, intent on following it around until I found a light switch.
Unfortunately, there was furniture settled against the wall.
I’d just slammed my hip into something solid, letting loose a litany of curse words when the door flew open, a wedge of hallway light filtering in and giving me enough light to see.
I would have had more light if not for the hulking figure blocking the doorway.
Fear momentarily gripped my heart until my mind recognized that form. “Martin.” His name passed my lips in a whispered prayer of relief.
Breathing heavily, Martin looked more like a bull shifter as he came through the doorway, hand reaching out and flipping a nearby light switch. The room wasn’t flooded with light, but it was now lit well enough for me not to run into anything else.
“You’re not easy to follow,” Martin grumbled, his breathing settling.
“I nearly ran Jima over. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him shift that quickly before.
” Walking further into the room, Martin glanced around.
His wide eyes were quickly followed by a veil of sorrow, hinting we were somewhere he hadn’t expected, somewhere he’d rather not be.
Following his gaze, I noted the quiet beauty of the space.
The walls were a pale, sky blue, the furniture appropriately suited in warm shades of creams and whites.
Gray throw pillows, blankets and a rug laid about the room, along with a few hints of sunny yellow.
The space was so light and bright that it was difficult to believe it was completely underground, not a hint of direct sunlight.
“Whose—”
“Alethia,” Martin said, voice clipped.
I’d heard that name before. No longer one of the missing. Alethia, along with several other members of the Magical Usage Council, had been found. All deceased, murdered by Tenzen Huxley.
While the name was familiar, I wasn’t sure what species she’d been. “What was Alethia?”
Martin swallowed hard, remaining by the entrance, as if moving further inside was a line he wouldn’t—or perhaps couldn’t—cross. “Wind elemental. She… Alethia was kind. Steady.”
I took another, more appreciative look around the room. “I should have guessed that.” The colors reflected the individual who’d once called this space home.
Martin’s smile was strained. “I always found comfort here. Now…I haven’t been inside since…
” Martin’s words faded as pained silence took their place.
That sorrow was replaced first by confusion and then anger.
“There’s something here?” Martin finally took another step into the room.
“Something Huxley hid?” Righteous fury filled those words.
“I’m not certain.” Walking back toward the fireplace, I laid a hand on the stone covering the chimney leading up and out of the Magical Usage Compound.
“I don’t know if this was something Alethia treasured or something of Huxley’s.
” Blue flames licked my fingertips, allowing me to hear the song a little better.
Flinching, I pulled my hand back and doused my flame.
“Whatever it is, it’s furious and sad.” Far and away, Hikaru’s tail remnant had moaned with sorrow and loss.
This was different. The loss was there, but overriding that emotion was a well of anger.
Striding further into the room, Martin came up even with me.
Without giving it much thought, I reached over and entwined our fingers.
Martin didn’t shake me off. His responding squeeze showed his appreciation.
“If that’s the case, then I can’t imagine it’s Alethia’s treasure.
I could always be wrong. Gaia knows I was wrong about Huxley. ”
And that right there would be the cross the remaining members of the Magical Usage Council would have to bear going forward.
Betrayal didn’t end when the betrayer was dealt with.
It wormed its way deep into the soul, making the victim of said betrayal second-guess their judgment.
Martin would always wonder if he was reading someone correctly, if they could truly be trusted.
And it wasn’t just Martin. Keir suffered the same malady, as did every other survivor who’d trusted Tenzen Huxley and paid the price.
“If Alethia had been less than you remember, then chances are Huxley wouldn’t have found it necessary to eliminate her.” My words were meant to comfort. Martin’s stiff muscles and razor-sharp jawline made me wonder if I’d missed the mark.
I didn’t have time to contemplate my possible snafu because Martin asked, “Where is it?”
Releasing Martin’s hand, I reached up and placed my palm on the fireplace stones. “There. Behind my hand.”
Martin’s head tilted to the side, his eyes narrowed and contemplative. “Within the flue?”
I shrugged. “Possibly.” I rubbed the back of my neck, landing on why Martin thought that odd. “Whatever it is must be heat resistant. That is, assuming Alethia used the fireplace.”
“Oh, she used it all right.” Martin walked the perimeter of the fireplace before squatting down and poking his head into the firebox. “Hand me my phone.” One of Martin’s arms waggled in my direction, his fingers flexing. “It’s in my back pocket.”
I could see the outline and slipped my fingers into Martin’s pocket. “You really do have a wonderful ass.” I couldn’t have stopped the words if I’d tried, and honestly, I didn’t try at all.
Martin cursed as his head hit something hard inside the firebox. Snickering, I placed Martin’s phone in his outstretched fingers. A half-ass “thanks” slipped through Martin’s lips before the inside of the firebox lit up, courtesy of the flashlight app on Martin’s phone.
“See anything?” I asked, reluctantly giving up my view of Martin’s ass so I could lean in closer.
“Maybe? It’s not a straight-up shot. I mean, it is, but there’s a dark area about a third of the way up. It might be some kind of shelf. I’m not sure. I can’t reach it in my humanoid form. I could try and reach in with my branches.”
Panic squeezed my heart. “Don’t.”
Martin pulled back, his arms covered in soot, black smudges on his cheeks. “Don’t? Why? Do you know something I don’t?”
I shook my head. “Not for certain. I just know how it feels, and it’s not…great.” It was a lame way to describe the festering anger still coursing through me. “Let me transform again. I can get a look at it in my wisp form. We can decide what to do from there.”
Sitting on the hearth, Martin skeptically eyed me. “You sure? How is that safer?”
“I can look without touching.” Martin still didn’t look convinced. “It’s safer than your idea,” I countered.
Elbows planted on his bent knees, Martin hung his head before his gaze found mine again. “I’m not worried so much about what’s up there. You’ll need to be in your wisp form again. You haven’t said, but I’m guessing this time went better. Is that a guarantee going forward?”
Crouching so we were on eye level and Martin didn’t have to crane his neck any longer, I placed my hands on his forearms. Truth be told, I hadn’t had much time to consider what we’d just done.
“It went better than well. It was…” I cocked my head toward the fireplace.
“It wasn’t the only song I heard, but you managed to temper the others enough that it was enough to keep my wisp’s full attention.
I didn’t feel like I was going to fragment.
I didn’t feel pulled in different directions.
Even if you can’t diminish the other songs, I’m close enough to this one that it should be a scream.
This treasure will block the others out now that I’m within its space. ”
“Kind of like my soil,” Martin answered.
My smile felt good. “Just like your soil. Just like when I was in your quarters. Its song was so loud it drowned out all others.” It had felt amazing also. Martin’s treasure didn’t feel neglected. It felt loved and appreciated. Martin’s soil was akin to a love ballad.
Instead of a verbal answer, Martin gave a single nod.
I needed no further encouragement. Blue flames consumed me, diminishing my humanoid form until I was little more than cool fire.
This treasure’s song sent stabbing pain into nearly every atom of my existence.
The sooner it was found and dealt with, the better.
Cautiously heading into the firebox, I floated up the chimney.
My flame lit the area enough for me to understand what was before me.
Sliding up the sooty walls, I came to the space Martin had wondered about.
My dryad was right. It was an alcove. I’d expected something dull and dank to be inside. I couldn’t have been more wrong.
Deep plum and rich aquamarine filled the space with their oblong structures.
There were two structures present—each glittering like the precious gems they were.
Only these gems weren’t pulled from deep within the earth.
These gems had been purposefully conceived and laid. These gems held the beginnings of life.
“Wyvern.”
“Wyvern?” Martin shouted.
“Wyvern eggs,” I mentally clarified, shocked beyond reason that Martin understood me in my wisp form.
“Gaia save us. How many?”
“Two.”
“Fuck. I’m calling Keir.”
I remained where I was, attempting to sooth the pulsing anger and hurt emanating from the eggs.
Martin wasn’t wrong. If Huxley had taken the eggs…
If he’d stolen wyvern spawn… The retribution could destroy what remained of the council and there wasn’t a species out there that would bat an eyelash.
Such an act, such an atrocity was beyond comprehension.