Chapter 21 Treasure Hunt
As Lizzie had assessed, it felt quite fresh, as if it had been placed inside that box only days and not centuries before.
His heart pumped faster when he recognised Aranna’s handwriting and he took a deep breath to regain control of himself, wondering why he was feeling so emotional.
Why, Aranna was a dear friend… I do miss her.
“What does it say?” she came to stand by his side and peeping over his arm.
He stared at the paper in disbelief and then let out a stream of curses, none of which were remotely appropriate in the presence of a lady, but thankfully the lady in question did not understand them.
Her eyes widened with mischief, “Oh! You’re cursing in Fae, aren’t you?” she squealed in delight, “You know you have to teach me that too, right?”
Heat crept up his neck, “Why on Earth would you want to learn curse words in Fae?”
She stared at him as if he had asked the dumbest question in the universe.
“And miss the opportunity of offending someone in a language no living human understands?”
He roared with laughter, “You never cease to astonish me, Lady Lizzie,” he declared, lowering his head to claim her mouth.
At first she melted against his chest, parting her lips in acceptance, and Brun very much enjoyed having such power over her. He had been with women before, of course, but none had been so completely his as Lizzie.
My Lizzie…
The thought shocked him. Could he dare to dream that she was his?
He certainly wished to belong to no other woman…
Carried away by the idea, he began to slide a hand under her T-shirt, but Lizzie slapped it away.
“Don’t distract me! We’re in the middle of a real treasure hunt!” she scolded him and he could not hold the smile in seeing how breathless she was. It made her breasts move up and down erotically and he stared at them, hypnotised, “What does the note say?”
Sighing, he handed her the little paper roll. It had only one sentence.
“It says Eleanor has the key.”
“Eleanor? And who the hell is Eleanor?”
“If I remember correctly, Eleanor was Aranna’s lady’s maid. Her human lady’s maid who died three centuries ago!”
“Bugger!” Lizzie muttered to the empty room again, still not believing that their treasure hunt had hit a – literal – dead end so soon after starting!
She had not felt that kind of thrill in… well, she had never felt that kind of thrill! Her life had been the dull kind of normal until receiving Brun’s letter and everything that followed.
With a death threat hanging above her head, she ought to be scared out of her wits, however, Lizzie was relishing in being part of that adventure.
But was her life truly in danger?
The Dreams Thief had disappeared for centuries, and if Brun was right in saying that there were no Enchanters left in this world, who was to say that the monster had not used the magic he stole to return to the Otherworld to finish wiping out the Fae there, and was now enjoying his eternity of infinite power by himself?
Rather bleak perspective if you ask me…
On the other hand, what if he had remained hidden in the human world and had sensed the awakening of her power as Brun feared, and was now planning a way to suck the life out of her?
Lizzie shivered under the hot water in her tub. That perspective was also quite bleak.
In particular for her.
She heard a soft knock on the bathroom door and hesitated for one silly moment of shyness before recalling that on the previous night and in that morning, she and Brun had left very little of their bodies unexplored.
Very, very little…
Coming to think of it under the light of sanity – that is, when Brun’s godly gorgeousness was not in sight – they had done a lot of stuff with no protection.
None whatsoever.
Lizzie caught her lower lip between her teeth. She could not deny that she was enjoying her life’s sudden upheaval, but an unplanned pregnancy could be a tad too much.
Another knock on the door reminded her that Brun was still waiting outside.
“Come in,” she called, steering the lather to cover her nudity.
Oddly enough, she sensed his hesitation through the thick wood. The door clicked open and Brun stepped in, his huge frame at once taking command of the whole room and she was instantly aroused.
Mental note: learn a spell to make his clothes disappear with a snap of my fingers.
He opened his mouth to say something, but then closed again, his eyes scanning the length of her body inside the tub.
Clearly her work with the lather had been pointless.
“Forgive me, I didn’t mean to interrupt your bath,” he rubbed the back of his neck, staring at her with such intensity that made her feel as if he were touching her, “I just wanted to let you know that supper will be ready soon.”
Her eyes widened, “Oh gosh, I’m so sorry! I didn’t realise I was here so long!”
After the anticlimactic message they found in the puzzle box, they had a light lunch and then returned to Aranna’s workshop for a few more hours, but they had succeeded only in being covered in dust and spiderwebs. They shared a cup of tea in the garden, after which Lizzie had come to her room to have a bath to wash away the aforementioned spiderwebs from her hair.
“There’s nothing to worry about–”
“Yes, there is!” she cut in, “You keep cooking for me while I’m lying here in the tub like–”
“The lady of the manor?” he completed, crossing his arms over his chest and making no effort to hide the amusement from his voice.
She blushed, “Yes, well, point taken… Still, I’m not used to being pampered like this–”
“A situation which I am happy to rectify,” he intervened.
“I’m serious, Brun!” she cried exasperated.
“As am I!” he laughed, but then his expression became serious, his eyes darkening, “I never had anyone to pamper before, Lizzie… I am rather… enjoying it…”
The raw emotion in his voice disarmed her completely and her gaze softened.
“I shall let you finish then…” he walked out of the bathroom before she could say anything else.
Sighing, she stepped out of the tub and wrapped herself with a bathrobe.
Contrary to what she had expected though, Brun was still in her room, standing in front of the portrait of Triarell and Ryul with his hands behind his back, studying it attentively.
Her stomach churned. Was he revisiting his feelings for her ancestor? He had admitted before being confused… Maybe after they made love, after removing that building sexual tension between them, Brun had been able to sift through his feelings? Surely it was not easy to forget being in love with someone for four hundred years.
“I cannot shake the sensation that we are missing something,” he said without looking at her, “Why would Aranna use such complex spells and that elaborate puzzle box to protect that silly message and leave the crucial information with a mortal woman?”
Lizzie let out the breath she did not know she was holding and her shoulders sagged.
“Oh that is what you’re thinking!” she blurted in relief.
Brun caught her tone at once, because he whirled on his heels and trained his blue eyes on her.
“What did you think I was thinking?” he crossed the distance between them like a flash of light and reached for her hands.
“Nothing… I…” she stammered, regretting her thoughtless words. Then her traitorous eyes flicked to the portrait and Brun followed her gaze.
His expression became even more serious.
“Dearest Lizzie,” he cupped her face with both hands softly, “I shall use till my last breath to demonstrate that my heart belongs to you and that what I felt for Triarell pales in comparison to what I feel for you.”
“I did not mean…” she tried, but swallowed her words at the serious expression Brun wore on his face.
With his blue eyes trained on hers, he took possession of her mouth as if it was his birthright. His hands went to the knot holding her bathrobe, undoing it slowly and then sliding the piece down her shoulders.
The robe pooled on the floor while his hands reached her still humid skin, kneading her breasts.
She moaned, her arms snaking around his neck, urging him to deepen his kiss.
“What about the food?” she muttered against his lips, “Isn’t it going to burn?”
His hand slid down her belly and plunged between her legs. When his fingers slid deeply inside her, Lizzie forgot her own name.
“I don’t care if it burns the whole manor, I need you,” he replied, hoisting her onto his arms and carrying her to the bed.
Wholeheartedly agreeing with his statement, she urgently unbuttoned his shirt, eager to feel his skin on hers. His lips left a trail of kisses down her throat and collarbone, till they found her nipples. Everything below her waist was on fire while his fingers slid in and out of her. She fumbled clumsily with the zipper of his trousers, desperate to have him inside her.
But her earlier thoughts flashed in her mind.
“Brun,” she gasped when his teeth grazed her nipple, “shouldn’t we… take precautions?”
He lifted his head from her breasts, confused, his eyes glazed with desire.
“Whatever do you mean?”
She blushed, “Well, you know… I don’t think we’re ready to have a little Brun or a little Lizzie running around the house… Or both… God knows that if we keep this pace we might as well make triplets!”
Brun straightened up and combed his hair with his fingers. A shadow crossed his eyes.
“There’s nothing for you to worry about on that regard,” he lifted his ring, “The binding spell also keeps Changelings from being… fertile.”
For a moment Lizzie only stared at him in silence. She did not know how she felt about that new information, but surely it was not exactly relief in learning about that magical contraceptive.
It was more… loathing for her ancestors who had treated humans like slaves, denying them even the possibility of having their own families.
He must have seen the turmoil of emotions on her face because he leaned forward until their foreheads touched.
“Don’t worry, dearest Lizzie: the bond is waning and if it is…If it is your desire… Of course not now… in the future, I mean…” he cut himself.
The future.Brun had thought about that. Whatever was happening between them was more than just lust.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down for a kiss. He responded with equal passion, his hands sliding under her hips, pressing his erection against her belly.
His mouth left hers, resuming its place on her breasts, but then went lower, kissing her belly and did not stop its sensual movement down until his tongue began to lap at her very centre.
All questions and considerations in her head dissolved as her brain melted into a puddle of incoherent thoughts. Lizzie cried his name as he licked and drank her like a thirsty man who finds a brook of fresh water. She grabbed his hair as if she were holding for dear life when her body began to wind and burn under the relentless attack of his tongue…
Just as she was about to climax, Brun lifted his head. She gasped, ready to protest against that blatant violation of human rights, but he quickly thrust into her till his hips slammed against hers.
And just like that, she exploded.
Lizzie screamed and Brun continued to thrust into her as she rode out her orgasm, until he too growled a masculine sound that almost made her climax again, burying himself as deep as he could inside her body.
Without moving from inside her, Brun gathered her body against his, tenderly kissing her brow, her eyelids, her cheeks and finally her lips. They stayed locked like that for a moment longer, until he lifted his head, sniffing.
He jumped to his feet, “Heavens, I think I am burning the house!”
The next days slipped between their fingers. Lizzie made a lot of progress with controlling her magic, considering that she had a rudimentary knowledge of the Fae language at best, but their quest for Aranna’s mythical trap hit a dead-end. Apart from the immense wealth of information on the Fae and in particular about the Endellys Clan’s magic, they could not find anything significant about the Dreams Thief in her secret workshop other than what they already knew.
Brun took Aranna’s note out of his pocket, trying to extract any hidden meaning he was missing.
Eleanor has the key.
No, nothing could be more devoid of subtext. Coming to think, it was actually quite un-Aranna-like.
Closing his eyes to shift through centuries of memories, he tried to recall Eleanor.
The girl had been a slight thing, not particularly pretty, the youngest out of a brood of ten or so children of an impoverished gentleman from Stirling, if memory served. She had had no dowry to her name and hence a very slim chance at making a decent marriage, thus her father had sent her over to his sister’s home in Glennloch Village, hoping she would be able to find employment in Glennloch Manor as a housekeeper or even as a lady’s maid. Despite her rather humble origins and simple appearance, Eleanor had been a witty, well-educated woman, which in itself made her perfectly suited to be Aranna’s lady’s maid.
With no children of her own, upon her death Aranna left Eleanor a substantial heirloom and in addition to that, Triarell bestowed upon her an allowance. Brun vaguely recalled that Eleanor had eventually returned to her father’s home in Stirling and married a couple of years later.
Beyond mistress and servant relationship, Aranna and Eleanor had been quite close, thus it made sense that Aranna would have trusted her friend with a secret, but perhaps not a secret of this magnitude, considering that Eleanor was human.
Unless it was something small. Another clue perhaps, in that treasure hunt as Lizzie had put it, something with a hidden meaning or purpose which Eleanor had not been aware of.
Something that would not remain in Glennloch and be accidentally found…
Whatever it was, it surely had been lost after three hundred years.
Foreboding was growing inside him and Brun felt as powerless now as he had been three centuries before.
The Dreams Thief had vanquished countless powerful Fae, including the mighty Endellys Clan, and obliterated scores of Changelings as if they were no better than flies.
How could he hope to defeat a faceless enemy who had successfully evaded detection for millennia?
With his power now dwindling, if the monster decided to hunt Lizzie, there was virtually nothing he could do to protect her. His only consolation would be – if he survived – that he would follow her to the grave soon enough. There would be no other Fae to renew his bond and prolong his misery any further.
The only problem with that alternative was that he no longer felt satisfied with simply being consoled. For the first time in his life he wanted more.
He wanted a life with Lizzie – a normal life – with a mob of children and grandchildren. He wanted to take on a hobby and travel on holidays. He wanted to grow old and look back at the end of his life with a sense of fulfilment.
However, his wants would bear little power in the battle he felt coming…
“A penny for your thoughts,” Lizzie’s soft voice filled the room and Brun turned from the window to face her.
Her hair was unexpectedly loose, falling in ebony waves down her shoulders. For some reason, her eyes seemed rounder and brighter.
Heavens, she grows more beautiful at each passing day.
He reached for her hand and brought her knuckles to his lips. Even her skin was warmer and her fragrance stronger.
Roses, roses, roses. It is like a flood of roses. A garden within the woman…
“Lady Lizzie,” he bowed his head in greeting, and she giggled at his old-fashioned manners. The sound made his chest hum as if he were standing in front of loud-speakers. Her magic was becoming natural for her as breathing.
More beautiful and more powerful.
“I was just thinking about this message Aranna left behind” he answered her question, showing the small piece of paper, “It just still feels…”
“A silly move for someone so clever?”
Brun sighed, “Aye… I mean, Aranna was simply… brilliant! Triarell may have been the strongest Enchanter, but Aranna’s cunning made her an equally formidable adversary. Just look at the complexity of that box she created and of the spell she weaved to protect it! To design it in such way that only one of her bloodline could open it!”
“Well, technically, you opened it, because I could have never known about that little poem!”
He acquiesced and shoved the paper back inside the pocket of his shirt, “Yes, but the question remains: why go through all that trouble and sophistication to hide a meaningless note leading to a mortal woman!”
Lizzie shrugged, “My guess is that she had not expected it would take so long for her message to be found. Maybe she was hoping Triarell would puzzle it out, after all, the first clue was in the painting she made of her sister and her husband, and you said she would scribble that poem everywhere.”
He bobbed his head in agreement. It made sense, of course.
And yet…
“Yes, of course you’re right: in fairness, we don’t even know what this key refers too! As I said, Aranna was quite fond of riddles, maybe it was nothing more than a joke between sisters.”
She took a step forward and placed her palms on his chest, “We will find a way to defeat him, Brun. I am sure.”
For a moment he saw Triarell’s face, lying on her bed, her eyes fixed on nothing, her body devoid of life and he shivered.
When Triarell died he had nearly been driven mad, but his feelings for her were nothing compared to what he felt for Lizzie.
What would happen if the monster achieved his goal.
What would happen if Lizzie…
He could not bring himself to even think about it.
“You are more beautiful at each passing day, Lady Lizzie,” he whispered by way of reply and when she blushed, he lowered his lips to hers.
Brun was pleased when she melted against his chest, her breasts and hips moulding into the shelter of his solid body. At times he was afraid to hold her softness with his battle-hardened hands and end up hurting her. His fingers were far more accustomed to being closed into fists or holding weapons than delivering tenderness.
She pushed gently against his chest, taking a step back.
“The Clishams will be back today…”
He scoffed, “And do you nurture any illusion that we can keep what is going on between us from Mrs Clisham?”