A Strange Hymn
Page 3
Malaki’s gaze moves from Des to me, and I see his stride falter as his eyes flick over me.
“No wonder you’ve been hiding her,” he says, stopping in front of us.
I glance between the two men, not sure whether I should be offended or not. I’m suddenly, painfully aware of my wings. The training leathers I’m sweating through don’t help either.
“He hasn’t been hiding me,” I say.
Self-conscious or not, I haven’t come all this way to allow someone to make me feel bad about myself.
But based on the way Malaki continues to stare at me—not like I’m a freak, but like I’m a fascinating oil painting—I realize that maybe I let my own insecurities get the better of me. Perhaps a man with an eye patch wouldn’t immediately think to degrade another’s appearance.
Maybe his words were actually meant to be a compliment. How shocking.
“Callie,” the Bargainer say, “this is Malaki, Lord of Dreams, my oldest friend.”
Friend? My attention turns to Des, whose expression is guarded. How had I not realized that Des had friends? Everybody has friends. I’ve just never heard about his.
Not for the first time, I feel like the man next to me is a mirage. I’ve been so sure I’ve been seeing him clearly this whole time, but the closer I get, the less apparent that becomes.
“Malaki,” Des continues, his eyes lingering on me for an extra second, like he can hear exactly what I’m thinking, “this is Callypso, my mate.”
I get the distinct impression Malaki wants to pull me in for a hug, but instead he takes my hand. “I’ve been waiting centuries to meet you,” he says, bowing deep enough to press his forehead to the back of my hand.
His words cut through all my jumbled thoughts.
I give him a quizzical look once he straightens. “Centuries?”
He glances at the Bargainer. “You haven’t told her—?”
“Malaki,” Des cuts in, “what is so pressing that you had to interrupt our training?”
“He hasn’t told me what?” I ask Malaki.
Malaki flashes Des a wolfish grin. “Oh, this is going to be fun, I can already tell.” The fairy begins to back away. “Desmond, you have urgent business in the throne room.”
The King of the Night nods, his attention moving to me.
“I’ll be there in five,” he says, his eyes locked on mine. “Bring in a chair for Callypso. She’ll be joining us.”
Joining Des? In his throne room? In front of other fairies?
Oh hell no.
I put my hands up in protest. “Whoa, whoa, whoa—”
I feel magic settle over me for the second time today, and I know without checking that the Bargainer took another bead.
“The time for hiding is over.”
Chapter 3
I crack my knuckles nervously as the Bargainer leads me down the halls of his palace, his hand on my lower back. Above us, the ceilings arch overhead, fitted with painted tiles, and starbursts of light sparkle from the sconces that line the walls.
The simple bronze circlet Des wears as a crown currently adorns his head, and his war bands are now visible on his upper arm, the three cuffs proof of his valor in war. Like me, he wears training leathers, and I try not to stare too hard at just how good he looks in them.
Instead, I glance over my shoulder at Des’s wings. He hasn’t put them away all day. In fact, ever since he retrieved me from Karnon’s throne room, they’ve almost constantly been present. Over a week ago Temper told me that male fairies like to display their wings around their mates.
He catches me staring at them, and his eyes shine.
Just that look is triggering all sorts of inappropriate responses, and I have to remind myself that this guy forced my cowardly heart to face not one, but two unpleasant challenges today—training, and now this.
Ahead of us, Malaki and a team of royal aides and black-clad guards stand in front of an innocuous door, clearly waiting for us.
“What’s the situation?” Des asks when we make it over to the group.
“The last of the Fauna leaders sent a messenger,” one of the aides says. “He’s refusing to give his message to anyone but you.”
Just hearing a mention of the Fauna fae has my blood running cold. I know it’s unfair to judge an entire group of fae based on their twisted leader’s actions, but the truth is, I didn’t just suffer at the hands of Karnon. Every Fauna fae who dragged me to and from their king, every one of them that walked by my cell and didn’t stop to help, every one of them that aided the madman—they are all to blame.
“Very well,” the Bargainer says next to me, his voice just as silky as it ever is, “let’s meet the messenger.”
I begin to back up because I’m really not ready to face a Fauna fae right now, but Des’s firm hand on my back holds me in place.
One of the fairies slips through the door, and I hear him announce Des, and then, much to my growing horror, I hear my name announced as well.
I’m not sure Des means to, but his wings flare out, curving around me for several seconds before they fold back up.
I feel more than a little ill as the two of us file into the throne room.
If I wasn’t so distracted by my emotions I could properly feel awed by the room itself. The ceiling that arches above us is enchanted to look like the night sky. The chamber is lit by two grand, bronze chandeliers and several wall sconces, little starbursts of light glowing from each of them. The pale stone walls are intricately carved, and tiny bits of colorful tile cover most of them, making the room look like one grand mosaic.
Desmond’s throne room is currently filled with dozens and dozens of fairies that line the walls or peer down from a balcony on the upper level. As soon as they see us, they begin clapping, the sound setting me further on edge. My wings hike up with my nerves, and I have to breathe deeply to calm myself.
Des’s throne is made of hammered bronze and fitted with cushions of deep blue velvet. Next to it, someone’s brought out a smaller seat made of the same materials.
My seat, I realize with a start.
Mechanically, I take it, my wings arching over the back of it.
This room is a far cry from the Fauna King’s throne room, and yet staring down the long expanse of it still brings back unwanted memories. Not to mention that this one is filled with an audience.
Only once Des and I are settled does the applause cease. In the silence that follows, one of the fairies in attendance steps in front of the throne, bowing deeply.
“My king, a Fauna messenger is here to see you.” The fairy essentially repeats what we’ve already heard.
“Bring them in,” Des says, his voice booming.
I slide a glance over to my mate. Back in high school, I used to imagine all the lives he must’ve lived when he wasn’t around me, but I never pictured this. Even after I knew he was a king, it was just too hard to envision the wily Bargainer as some benevolent ruler. But right now he wears the role like a second skin.
A strange combination of awe and fear washes through me. Awe that for the first time in eight long years, I’m being let into Des’s world. He’s showing me things about himself that I’ve begged for him to share in the past.
But then, there’s the fear that accompanies the wonder. The one truly concrete thing I know about my mate is that he’s a man made of secrets. And perhaps for the first time, I’m having a certain amount of trepidation when it comes to what exactly those secrets are.
“No wonder you’ve been hiding her,” he says, stopping in front of us.
I glance between the two men, not sure whether I should be offended or not. I’m suddenly, painfully aware of my wings. The training leathers I’m sweating through don’t help either.
“He hasn’t been hiding me,” I say.
Self-conscious or not, I haven’t come all this way to allow someone to make me feel bad about myself.
But based on the way Malaki continues to stare at me—not like I’m a freak, but like I’m a fascinating oil painting—I realize that maybe I let my own insecurities get the better of me. Perhaps a man with an eye patch wouldn’t immediately think to degrade another’s appearance.
Maybe his words were actually meant to be a compliment. How shocking.
“Callie,” the Bargainer say, “this is Malaki, Lord of Dreams, my oldest friend.”
Friend? My attention turns to Des, whose expression is guarded. How had I not realized that Des had friends? Everybody has friends. I’ve just never heard about his.
Not for the first time, I feel like the man next to me is a mirage. I’ve been so sure I’ve been seeing him clearly this whole time, but the closer I get, the less apparent that becomes.
“Malaki,” Des continues, his eyes lingering on me for an extra second, like he can hear exactly what I’m thinking, “this is Callypso, my mate.”
I get the distinct impression Malaki wants to pull me in for a hug, but instead he takes my hand. “I’ve been waiting centuries to meet you,” he says, bowing deep enough to press his forehead to the back of my hand.
His words cut through all my jumbled thoughts.
I give him a quizzical look once he straightens. “Centuries?”
He glances at the Bargainer. “You haven’t told her—?”
“Malaki,” Des cuts in, “what is so pressing that you had to interrupt our training?”
“He hasn’t told me what?” I ask Malaki.
Malaki flashes Des a wolfish grin. “Oh, this is going to be fun, I can already tell.” The fairy begins to back away. “Desmond, you have urgent business in the throne room.”
The King of the Night nods, his attention moving to me.
“I’ll be there in five,” he says, his eyes locked on mine. “Bring in a chair for Callypso. She’ll be joining us.”
Joining Des? In his throne room? In front of other fairies?
Oh hell no.
I put my hands up in protest. “Whoa, whoa, whoa—”
I feel magic settle over me for the second time today, and I know without checking that the Bargainer took another bead.
“The time for hiding is over.”
Chapter 3
I crack my knuckles nervously as the Bargainer leads me down the halls of his palace, his hand on my lower back. Above us, the ceilings arch overhead, fitted with painted tiles, and starbursts of light sparkle from the sconces that line the walls.
The simple bronze circlet Des wears as a crown currently adorns his head, and his war bands are now visible on his upper arm, the three cuffs proof of his valor in war. Like me, he wears training leathers, and I try not to stare too hard at just how good he looks in them.
Instead, I glance over my shoulder at Des’s wings. He hasn’t put them away all day. In fact, ever since he retrieved me from Karnon’s throne room, they’ve almost constantly been present. Over a week ago Temper told me that male fairies like to display their wings around their mates.
He catches me staring at them, and his eyes shine.
Just that look is triggering all sorts of inappropriate responses, and I have to remind myself that this guy forced my cowardly heart to face not one, but two unpleasant challenges today—training, and now this.
Ahead of us, Malaki and a team of royal aides and black-clad guards stand in front of an innocuous door, clearly waiting for us.
“What’s the situation?” Des asks when we make it over to the group.
“The last of the Fauna leaders sent a messenger,” one of the aides says. “He’s refusing to give his message to anyone but you.”
Just hearing a mention of the Fauna fae has my blood running cold. I know it’s unfair to judge an entire group of fae based on their twisted leader’s actions, but the truth is, I didn’t just suffer at the hands of Karnon. Every Fauna fae who dragged me to and from their king, every one of them that walked by my cell and didn’t stop to help, every one of them that aided the madman—they are all to blame.
“Very well,” the Bargainer says next to me, his voice just as silky as it ever is, “let’s meet the messenger.”
I begin to back up because I’m really not ready to face a Fauna fae right now, but Des’s firm hand on my back holds me in place.
One of the fairies slips through the door, and I hear him announce Des, and then, much to my growing horror, I hear my name announced as well.
I’m not sure Des means to, but his wings flare out, curving around me for several seconds before they fold back up.
I feel more than a little ill as the two of us file into the throne room.
If I wasn’t so distracted by my emotions I could properly feel awed by the room itself. The ceiling that arches above us is enchanted to look like the night sky. The chamber is lit by two grand, bronze chandeliers and several wall sconces, little starbursts of light glowing from each of them. The pale stone walls are intricately carved, and tiny bits of colorful tile cover most of them, making the room look like one grand mosaic.
Desmond’s throne room is currently filled with dozens and dozens of fairies that line the walls or peer down from a balcony on the upper level. As soon as they see us, they begin clapping, the sound setting me further on edge. My wings hike up with my nerves, and I have to breathe deeply to calm myself.
Des’s throne is made of hammered bronze and fitted with cushions of deep blue velvet. Next to it, someone’s brought out a smaller seat made of the same materials.
My seat, I realize with a start.
Mechanically, I take it, my wings arching over the back of it.
This room is a far cry from the Fauna King’s throne room, and yet staring down the long expanse of it still brings back unwanted memories. Not to mention that this one is filled with an audience.
Only once Des and I are settled does the applause cease. In the silence that follows, one of the fairies in attendance steps in front of the throne, bowing deeply.
“My king, a Fauna messenger is here to see you.” The fairy essentially repeats what we’ve already heard.
“Bring them in,” Des says, his voice booming.
I slide a glance over to my mate. Back in high school, I used to imagine all the lives he must’ve lived when he wasn’t around me, but I never pictured this. Even after I knew he was a king, it was just too hard to envision the wily Bargainer as some benevolent ruler. But right now he wears the role like a second skin.
A strange combination of awe and fear washes through me. Awe that for the first time in eight long years, I’m being let into Des’s world. He’s showing me things about himself that I’ve begged for him to share in the past.
But then, there’s the fear that accompanies the wonder. The one truly concrete thing I know about my mate is that he’s a man made of secrets. And perhaps for the first time, I’m having a certain amount of trepidation when it comes to what exactly those secrets are.
