Faye and the Heart of Fire Page 2

  “Now that we’re all here,” Marious said tightly, shifting his gaze to me again. I kept my expression neutral, bored almost. “Let’s begin.”

  3

  Alec

  I stepped into the apartment and pulled the tie off with a sigh. The ticking of the clock on the wall echoed in the space. Daron wouldn’t be home for another hour. I walked into the living room with its white walls and ebony furnishings and chose something to read off the shelf that sat stacked with books—mostly Daron’s—interspersed with a few charcoal sketches and small sculptures.

  I slid a book out and stepped onto the balcony that overlooked the City of Moonrise. The sun still hung in the sky. The city hadn’t yet woken as it would after dark, but already lights sparkled and the brassy notes of a saxophone trilled their way to me. I pulled a bottle of wine I had stored in the Ether—oak-aged chardonnay, delightful—and poured myself a glass.

  I read a few paragraphs before my mind drifted. The pages fluttered in the breeze, and I clamped my fingers around the edge to hold my place. The glittering luminescence of the city swept around. I dropped back against the chair, my shoulders falling. I should be happy, or just content even. Here I lived with the being I loved, safely, in a city we both adored. And yet... I released a heavy breath. The music from the street below shifted to a mournful bluesy tune and my mood sank alongside it.

  The door to the apartment clicked open. Daron. My heart warmed. I released my empty glass into the Ether and carried the book inside. Daron ran a hand over his neck. So it had been a tough day. He rolled his broad shoulders back, the ebony robes he wore as a member of the lower council ruffling with the motion. He twisted his head to both sides. His brown eyes glimmered with gold and hazel as they flicked to me, a smile spreading on his face. “Alec.”

  I tucked the book into its place and walked up to him. “Long day?”

  He groaned. “Always.”

  I wrapped my arms around his waist, and he tilted my jaw back and kissed me. My stomach warmed. Gods, it never grew old with him.

  “Come on.” I grasped his hand. “Tell me about it while I rub your shoulders.” He traced his fingers over my knuckles, and walked with me into the dining room, sitting down in a chair. “Off with it.” I tapped his robes. He chuckled and removed them, along with his tunic, into the Ether.

  I kneaded my hands into his broad, dark shoulders. He groaned. He was so alluring. I wanted to shift my hands down over his form, across the muscles of his chest that dipped and curved between light and shadows as the amber rays of the setting sun poured in through the windows and washed over him. I longed to move my hands down the hard plane of his stomach, trail my fingers over his form. I wanted to… I cleared my throat and forced my focus back to his shoulders. “So what’s the issue today?”

  “The fairies and the kelpies are having a disagreement over travel rights through each other’s territories. The kelpies are threatening to leave their chairs on the council over it.”

  “That does sound like a long day.”

  “It was. All of this arguing in circles accomplishes nothing. I was there all day today and do you know what we actually got done?”

  “What?”

  “Nothing. I have nothing to show for an entire day’s work. It infuriates me to waste time like that.”

  A chuckle bubbled up within me. “I know it does.” I kissed the back of his neck. “Today is the leader’s symposium also, isn’t it? Did you see Acheus and Faye as well?”

  His muscles tensed. “Acheus, yes.” He sighed. “But not Faye. She’s stopped having lunch with me after.”

  “Why?”

  “She claims she’s too busy to take the time right now.”

  “To eat lunch?”

  His jaw ticked, and he released another weighted breath. “I don’t know. Anyway…” He grasped my hand and drew me around. I sat in the chair across from him. He ran a thumb over my cheek. “Enough of my complaining about my day. How was yours?”

  I froze and pasted a smile on my face. “It was fine.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “Well, that’s a lie.”

  “It was normal.”

  “Mmm.”

  Daron tangled his fingers into mine. “Do you want to go for a walk tonight?”

  “Not tonight.” I shifted towards the view outside where stars had begun freckling across the darkening blues of the sky.

  He tilted his head to the side. “You know I hate it when you don’t share what you’re thinking.”

  I shrugged and tapped my free fingers against the wood of the table. “It’s petty. It doesn’t matter.”

  “It’s not petty if it matters to you. Won’t you tell me?”

  I sighed. “It’s just my career.”

  Daron frowned. “You’re not enjoying it.”

  “Sure, but beyond that, my career just isn’t that important.”

  “I think teaching the guitar is important. Someone taught you. I’m trying to imagine my life without your music in it.”

  I blew out a breath. “Master Lanten taught me to be specific. And he’s still teaching. Others could go to him.”

  “What would you rather do?”

  “I don’t know.” I squeezed the back of my neck.

  “Do you miss being a protector?” His eyes tightened at the edges, his lips thinning.

  “In a way, yes,” I said. “And in another way, no. I miss enjoying and feeling competent at what I was doing. I miss not wearing a damn tie every day.” He laughed. “I miss spending all day with you.” I lifted his hand and kissed it. “But, I don’t miss the fear that one of us might die.”

  “Me either.” He took a deep breath, rolling his shoulders back. “We could take time off. Travel.”

  “What about the council? You’re only a new member, you can’t take a leave of absence yet.”

  He drew a glass of water from the Ether. The beads of perspiration on it glowed in a blend of cool and warm colors as it picked up the city lights and the indoor lamps draping us in flaxen illumination. He took a swallow. “You matter far more to me than my role on the council, Alec.”

  “I appreciate it, but your career matters too. Quitting something that you find meaningful would just make both of us miserable instead of one of us.”

  He studied me for a moment. “While it may not be an extended leave, we do at least have the trip to my father’s house on the horizon.”

  “Yes, well, we have that to look forward to.”

  “There’s someplace in the world for you, Alec, where you can be happy and fulfilled. And I believe you can find it.”

  I ruffled my hand through my hair. “Maybe.”

  Daron rapped his knuckles on the table. “I hate not having answers.”

  “Well, I doubt we’re going to find them tonight. Come on, let’s get our workout in. I’m getting hungry.”

  Daron studied me for another moment, concern tracing into his features with the furrow of his brow and the tension around his lips before he nodded and we both rose. I twined my fingers into his, giving his hand a squeeze. But a pit of discontent settled sour and weighty in my stomach.

  4

  Faye

  I sat at my dressing table, drumming my fingers against the vanity.

  The door opened, a breeze carrying a saffron scent in with it, and Zemin walked into the room. She turned and bowed. I didn’t care what Telanes thought, Zemin was the gentlest being I’d ever met. She had honey blonde hair she always kept swept back in a knot—an unusual style for a dragon—and blue eyes that sparkled with the rust color of a setting sun around the irises. I guess she had fire somewhere… deep, deep down.

  “I apologize I was late, my lady,” she said.

  “Don’t worry yourself, Zemin. It’s not likely to start without me, now, is it?”

  Zemin smiled and dipped her head. She walked up and trailed her fingers through my hair. “Do you wish for another braid?”

  “How about something different?”

  “I
have an idea that would look lovely on you.”

  “Okay?”

  “What if I teased the front of it and then braided just the sides? I could intertwine some gray ribbon with gypsum beads. It would match your gown for tonight.”

  “That sounds perfect.” Zemin picked up the brush off the vanity and smoothed it through my hair. “Could I ask what held you up?”

  “Held me up?”

  “I mean, what caused you to be late? Was there a problem in the compound?”

  Her hands tug, tug, tugged at my hair. “No, my lady.”

  “All right.” I sank my hands into my lap.

  Zemin picked up a comb and teased the front of my hair, her fingers a blur of motion. “Asheera asked for my assistance.”

  “Asheera? Of the guard?”

  “Yes, my lady.”

  “What did she need of you?”

  “Some of the guards needed help preparing their hair for tonight.” Her fingers danced as she braided, lacing the beaded ribbon in as they went.

  “And they asked my attendant to help them?”

  Zemin’s hands stilled, her expression brightening. “I apologize, my lady. I didn’t know you would disapprove.”

  “Oh, I don’t. Forgive me, Zemin.” She nodded and finished wrapping my hair. “I’m just surprised that of all the attendants we have in the compound, they would choose my personal one.”

  “That I don’t know, my lady.”

  I shrugged and stood up. Zemin raised her hands, drawing a pewter gossamer gown that swept around me. It fit along my arms and hips, but loosened mid-calf to flow around my feet. “Would you go lighter on my makeup today?”

  “Yes, my lady. What would you think of sparkling silver across your eyelids to bring the look together?”

  “An excellent suggestion.”

  Telanes waited in the hallway, the candles throwing a bronze glow over his skin. He eased away from the wall as I exited my dressing room and offered me his elbow, which I tucked my arm through. He wore an embroidered charcoal gray jacket that fell to his mid-thigh and buttoned along the side.

  “I wondered when Uriel told me of your color choice of the night. Giving up on your dragon reds?”

  “No. I just wanted to wear something different tonight.”

  He smirked and leaned down, brushing his lips against my forehead. “You look lovely.”

  “Thank you, Tel.”

  We turned a corner and approached a set of double doors. I drew a breath down into my lungs and rolled my shoulders back. Telanes traced his fingers over my hand. “I love you.”

  My expression dropped, a smile kissing my face. His eyes trained on me in that steady, devoted way he had, and warmth swept up around my heart. “I love you, too.”

  With that, I pushed open the doors. Hundreds of beings stood in the great hall. Four chandeliers cast the wood beams and stone walls into warm hues. Telanes and I walked up to the table at the front that stood framed by a massive crackling fireplace. I scanned over each being present, their umber and sienna and slate eyes fixed on me. I inclined my head, and we dropped into our seats.

  Ete turned towards me. “Few complaints to hear this week. However, there are representatives from the City of Ash here. They are hoping to compel you to visit.”

  “That could be arranged?”

  She curled her fingers around the stem of her wine glass that had etchings of flames sweeping around it. “Yes, I think it would be a wise move. They are the closest to the ice mountains and furthest from us. It would be a shrewd decision to let them know they aren’t forgotten.”

  I nodded.

  “Are you ready to hear grievances?”

  “As I will be.”

  One corner of Ete’s lips turned up and then she stood, calling the first being forward.

  Ete walked alongside me in the gardens. Lush emerald and maroon leafed plants unfurled and draped over bushes studded with flowers. The sea begged for my focus just beyond. A few more minutes, old friend, and I’ll join you.

  “You did well at the hall meeting last night.”

  “Thank you.” I grazed my fingers over the crimson leather on my palm, longing for my selkie cloak.

  “And you reminded Odim of his place yesterday. That act certainly got his attention.”

  I sighed and my feet crunched against the gravel. “I wish I could say it was all an act. But I fear I have a bit of a temper and my magic,” I flicked my hands, “coming and going as it does ignites it.”

  Ete shifted towards me, a warmth in her expression. “You’re doing well, Faye.”

  “Thanks.”

  “What’s your concern?”

  I shook my head, my braid flowing with the motion, and grazed my fingers along the rubbery texture of a large leaf that spilled out of a garden bed. “No one here knows what to make of me. Frankly, I think many of the dragons like Telanes better than me. Everyone I meet seems to expect either my father or my mother, and I’m neither of them.”

  Ete tucked her hands behind her back. “Most of the dragons revered your mother and feared your father. Our race is just trying to figure out how they should feel about you.”

  “I’m as lost as any of them.”

  Ete paused. “I saw your father grow from a young child. I know you only got to meet him near the end of his life.” Her jaw tensed, and she tapped her fingers to her head and heart. “But he was a tender-hearted child. Too tender-hearted. His father…” She sighed, her lips pressing together. “I see a lot of your mother in you. Your bravery, your sense of justice, your kindness. But, I see your father too. He could be fierce and clever, but he also loved deeply when he did. And you’re doing every bit as admirably as he was when he stepped into this position.”

  I released a breath. “Thank you, Ete.”

  She kept her gaze on me for another moment, her expression softening, and then she started waking again. “Where is Telanes this afternoon?”

  The rhythmic whooshing of the ocean blended in with my words. “He’s joining the guard for their exercises. Do you know he once told me he was lazy?”

  She grinned. “It’s hard to give up the routine, the discipline, after spending so many years doing so. I know that well.”

  I nodded.

  Ete kicked her head back, her gaze following the ivory clouds trailing through the azure skies. “I’ve had another request for an audience with you.”

  “From who this time?”

  “Hekista of the centaurs.”

  “No.” I stopped walking. “Absolutely not. I will not see her.”

  “Don’t you wish to know what she is so eager to say to you?”

  “No. She lives in my territory unharmed and free. She should be grateful for that alone. If I had sense or handled things more like dragons do she wouldn’t be granted that much.”

  “Very well.” Ete twisted the toe of her boot and loosened a piece of gravel before swiping her foot and smoothing the walkway again. “And what of your travel coming up?”

  I slid my braid over my shoulder. “I’ll be in the human world for a few days and when I get back, I will be at Prometheus’ estate. But I should return before the full moon.”

  A surge of magic zipped through me, striking my bones with a shocking bolt. I stumbled forward, gravel skittering across the path. Ete jumped towards me, grasping my arms and I fell into her. She helped me back onto my feet and then sucked air over her teeth, her face scrunching up, as I released her.

  Dark impressions of handprints wrapped around her sleeves where my fingers had gripped, a smokey smell permeated the air. I gasped. “Did I burn you?”

  She slid one of her sleeves up revealing smooth, undamaged skin. “It was just a bit warm. There’s a reason we wear leather here.”

  “Oh god, I could have hurt you.”

  She grinned. “A small burn would hardly be notable to me after the centuries I’ve spent in my position.” She patted my shoulder. “With more time and practice you’ll learn to keep the magic fro
m flaring.”

  I held my traitorous hands with their long creamy fingers in front of my face. “I’m worried I won’t figure that out before I accidentally burn the compound to the ground though.”

  Her eyes twinkled. “You’re in luck there. The compound cannot catch fire. Unhappy dragons have attempted it more than once.”

  I bent down and picked pieces of gravel that had scattered with my fall back out of the garden beds. “Is that supposed to comfort me that our race has a long history of rebellion?”

  Ete shrugged. “Well, perhaps it can help you take it in stride over these dissenting dragons. You’re not the first leader to deal with it.”

  “And my father handled it with brute force?”

  She nodded. “He did.”

  The salt from the sea trailed on a breeze, filling my sinuses. “That’s not me, Ete. I can’t… I can’t lead like that.”

  She shook her head, her braids rattling against her shoulders. “I understand. You wish to do things differently. I just worry that with no consequences, these dissenters may take more drastic actions. Though I support your perspective.”

  “Well, you’re alone in that.”

  “Perhaps a minority, but not alone. Beron has a lot of respect for the changes you’re making.”

  “That surprises me. I thought Beron hated me.”

  Ete sighed and tucked her hands behind her back. “Beron and your father didn’t have a good rapport. And,” she turned towards the sea where it peaked between two large bushes, “they have a hard history.”

  “What do you mean?”

  She hesitated. “Heracles,” she tapped her fingers to her head and heart, “and Beron’s sister didn’t get along. During the war, he moved her to a front-line group as a punishment and she died in a battle.”

  Blood rushed from my face. “My father killed his sister?”

  Ete sucked in air over her teeth. “In a roundabout way, yes. So perhaps you can understand why he isn’t as warm as he might be. But he does appreciate your ideas, nonetheless.” Electricity tangled through me again, skittering over the tips of my fingers and I gave my hands a shake. Ete nodded at them. “I’m cutting into your hour for swimming. And you need it today.”