39 | ACT II, SCENE XI

P R E V I O U S L Y

Three seconds later, the air around me changed as my feet hit solid ground. We were there.

VEZORT ISLAND, OCEMOND SEA.

EDWINA

THE TANG AND SALT OF the sea around us filled my sinuses, alerting me to my location. I opened them to find the five of us standing on the shore of the mysterious Island, the wind ruffling and blowing our hair in the evening light of the full moon.

Before us stood a huge brick wall, stretching upwards as far as the eye could see. Streams of ivy and honeysuckle climbed over it, twisting into a gnarled tangle of roots and leaves.

Set into the wall was a door of wrought iron, painted black, but its edges were still rugged with rust. It had no knocker or handle of any sort, only elaborate twisted vines growing all over it.

Helios tried pushing it. It wouldn't budge. He began to gather his power, preparing to hurl, but Eric stopped it just in time.

"Wait," he said, "somehow, I don't think it will help."

"But the gate should be open," Nyx protested. "It's eight already!"

"Wait a minute," Tristan authoritatively pushed everyone aside. He pulled out his knife and plucked his finger with it, a knowing look plastered on his face. The god squeezed the dark drop of blood on his finger and pressed it to the gate where the handle ought to be.

It swung open.

"How did you know?" Eric gasped in unconcealed amazement.

"The goddess of witchcraft taught me that. Blood usually forms the payment in dark magic," he shrugged his shoulders as if it were nothing. "Summoning spirits, calling on shades, doing the Blood Oath at weddings... they all demand blood."

"Goddess of witchcraft?" Nyx looked at him queerly. "That's the elder daughter of our uncle, Emerick. Sarette Rotavelle? Angry, cruel lady?"

"She is Olinda Rotavelle's sister," I added sourly. No one gave a look of recognition, staring at me. "Seriously?" I said. "Olinda? That tall woman who likes to dance and prepare for weddings the whole day? Goddess of festivities?"

"Ah... the goddesses of witchcraft and festivity are sisters? Olinda is such a sweet little being, Sarette is the complete opposite of her," Nyx huffed acidly. "Biggest bitch I ever saw."

The men indifferently shrugged with a roll of their eyes and motioned angrily to the open gate, which had swung around inwards. I shot them a glare as we all peered in.

"Everyone sure about this?" my grandfather pompously asked.

"Don't be ridiculous," I snapped, pushing the gate open further and finally taking a step in. Everyone else followed. The gate closed shut of its own accord as we looked around.

"Fuck," Tristan and I whispered at the same time.

The sky was a beautiful, pleasant blue. Some sort of mountains lay to one side. There were dappled purple peaks, richly laden with ice. The other side was a dense, lush forest brimming with energy. The trees formed shady canopies above, blocking out any harsh sunlight. There was no living thing around. A quiet silence filled the air, yet it felt queer, suffocating. As if it were drowning out sounds.

"We can't tell the bloody time," I whispered.

Damn Pandora. This was trickery. A way of making sure we couldn't make out the time, and hence couldn't leave the Island right in time.

"And I can't feel my powers as strong as before," Eric muttered, clearly trying not to panic. That was when I realized that the strong flow of power in my veins had reduced to a steady, low hum. I tried setting a nearby leaf on fire.

Even for such a trivial task, I had to squeeze out my energy!

"The island weakens and drains any visitor that crosses the threshold of the gate!" Nyx said crossly with anger shining blazing in her pitch black eyes.

"And the sky is a lie," Eric whined. "Damn this wretched place, we shouldn't have come to Vezort at all."

"I can't telecommunicate," Tristan said, taking care not to look at me, scowling at the ground.

"Goddamn," Helios said angrily. "Now we don't have time. Try to get out early, alright?" he added to us both.

"We need to divide. Quickly," Eric told us. "Have your flares?"

"Obviously," Tristan said, back in the black temper of his. He turned to the forest without so much as a wave, as I followed his tall form. Eric, Helios and Nyx turned to the side of the mountains, and thus the two parties parted. I only hoped no one needed to use the flares.

Tucking my spear safely in my right arm, I walked behind Tristan. He had a halberd in his right hand, Aetherius in his left. Eventually, his pace slowed and mine caught up, so I was walking just beside the person I so didn't want to talk to right now.

What was I even supposed to say?

We both were royally pissed at each other the whole time.

We walked in silence, wordlessly looking around as the forest enveloped us in a thick blanket of green. Elm, oak, pines, maple, the occasional weed or grass, well worn barks and no path. Tristan was taking a random path, the one which appeared most clear, and I didn't object. It would have been the one I'd have taken anyways.

Perhaps there would be some kind of landmark? A temple or palace or something? Where we could find what we were looking for? Till then, I supposed we would navigate the forest. I wondered where the Dessari were. Were they watching us from somewhere? Waiting?

Whatever it was, we'd just have to wait. We couldn't attack if we didn't knew where the fight was.

Tristan was giving me the cold shoulder as we walked, his face stern and white, an emotionless mask. The brow was knotted in a frown as his boots made no noise on the lush forest floor. The sunlight caught in his messy black hair, making it shine so wonderfully, but his starry eyes were concentrated on their task.

I needed to speak. I hated this barrier between us so much, because I realized I cared.

A little bit?

I cared a little bit about him.

Only a little, I told myself in time. Just a bit.

And I hated myself for doing this to him.

"How... how is Llewellyn dealing with the news of his marriage?" I hesitantly asked. His eyes did not stray an inch from the path. A minute passed, but he still didn't reply.

"So is this the part where you decide when I get to talk to you because it fulfills your selfish need for company?" he asked, his tone as sharp as his blades, making me flinch at the harshness. I couldn't reply, I was so taken aback.

This man could be colder than ice when he wanted to, and when he wanted to be charming...

"He understands what must be done," Tristan cruelly answered with a sharp laugh. At least Llewellyn got that his marriage would bring an end to the enmity between us and the Rotavelles, and I was grateful that due to Tristan's efforts, he'd still get to see Vanessa instead of losing her forever. "But he still wishes things could be the way he wanted them to be."

"Don't we all," I muttered, pushing aside a branch with a flick of my blade.

"Tragic," Tristan said sarcastically, his words like burning acid.

"Not as tragic as your pathetic face," I shot back.

"And uncalled for," he snapped fiercely, kicking a stray pebble off the path, then turning to give me a venomous glare.

"Your face is uncalled for," I snapped, craning my neck to see how long the forest extended. Forever, it seemed.

"I'm sure you forgot the part where I said I'd like to waste my energy arguing with idiots who have the mental capacity of a walnut," Tristan hissed.

Charming young man, my dear husband.

"Call me a walnut again and I'll kick your nuts so hard you'll be bruised for days."

I knew he was silently laughing on the inside when he turned to me and gave me his trademark smirk.

Up ahead now, I could see tall, rising columns. A tower delicately carved in black marble rose above, and the tip of the highest turret sharpened to a point, waving a thin red flag.

"No sigil," he observed, as we walked faster. It was a long, long way off, but the tower was so high that it could be seen from here.

Suddenly, I stopped in my tracks. He froze as well, and I was sure he too heard the sharp crack of a twig somewhere from the right. I listened intently for another sound. There was none.

We both drew closer, stiffening, and he looked at me, frowning.

"Did you hear that?" he mouthed.

I nodded wordlessly. My hand tightened on the hilt of Seraphine as Tristan slowly drew out his sword.

The feeling that we were being watched was going to explain itself somehow, I felt.

My instincts told me that this was a predator, who, realizing his mistake, had kept still.

Tristan put a hand on my shoulder. Despite the black scowl on his handsome face, the touch was oddly comforting, calming. He frowned a nod as we stood, back to back, weapons to the ready, in the typical battle position. I felt the hard planes of his shoulder pressing into mine, sending little fingers of searing hot passion licking up my spine.

The foot on the twig lifted slowly, with another crunch. The sound was slight, and would have almost been missed.

My eyes fell over to the thick tangle of branches, thickets and swamp and bushes and trees. It was impossible to see anything from here.

We waited, straining our nerves, listening.

"If they attack," I told him in the faintest whisper, "you take the left."

"And you take the right," he agreed.

Nothing happened.

Silence.

"I'm sure someone was spying on us," I muttered in his ear, and he nodded, pointing to the opening in one of the forest paths. We both walked stiffly to where the sound had come from, neither put down our weapons. I felt the sweet thrill of adrenaline I got before a fight. Tristan beckoned to the entrance, signalling that he was going in to check.

"Cover me," he mouthed, as I shadowed him, and he disappeared into a thicket.

I waited, nerves straining. A minute passed. Then another.

What if something happened to him?

Suddenly, he came back, and I let out a sharp sigh of relief, surprising myself.

"What did you find?" I asked eagerly.

"Nothing," he said, rubbing his nose and running a hand through his mess of black hair, then moved his hand forward to give me something orange. "I found this."

It was an orange lily Tristan handed to me with a hesitant look on his face.

"For... me?" I whispered gingerly.

"No, woman, I meant to put these flowers in my hair. So I can be the flower girl at my brother's wedding," he scowled crossly as I tried to stifle a snort. "Maybe do some belly dancing too," the god added thoughtfully, pretending to be innocent.

"I don't want your flowers, Valmont."

"It's a nice flower. I wouldn't offer it to you otherwise," his ears drooped.

"No. Give it to someone else. You did say you got laid, didn't you? Go on, give it to her!" I snapped miserably, trying to hide my feelings.

"Ah," a ghost of a smile appeared on his face. "Jealous, are we, Queen Regnant?" he silkily whispered in my ear, gently brushing his lips against my skin, making sensations flood to it like quicksilver.

"Me? Jealous? Not at all," I weakly scoffed, entranced by his alluring eyes. They gazed at me with a burning intensity, hypnotizing and beckoning.

"It's a nice flower," he said sadly. "I like this flower," he waved it in front of my face, hoping to get my attention.

"My boy, someone needs to teach you how to flirt properly. This won't do," I huffed my chest importantly, drawing myself up and peering at the flower. The air was unbelievably heavy with scent of pollen and nectar. "Hmm... this flower is nothing special though. Even worse than your castle," I teased him gently, enjoying myself.

"No one likes my castle," Tristan whined, throwing up his hands and tossing the orange flower straight at my face.

And then I sneezed.

And sneezed.

And sneezed.

And sneezed for, well, a long time... The only thing I heard was me sneezing and him laughing, doubled over.

"You bastard," I croaked through my running nose, rubbing tears out of my eyes, smiling despite myself. I was sure snot was dripping from my nose, and horrified, I wiped it off.

"You stopped at sixty one," Tristan wheezed, watching my comical face as he tried to keep himself from smiling ear to ear, which he was, so no point.

"You're so going to pay for this," I muttered good naturedly, whacking him on the head and flapping my arms. Suddenly, we both knocked each other over and fell to the ground.

There was water still stinging my eyes from sneezing so hard, and his from laughing so hard. The only sound ringing the air was that of our laughing voices, as he snorted and I grunted and it sounded like all sounds of animals trying to sing a tune.

It was horrendously wonderful.

Suddenly, my lips had ended up on his and his hands had ended up on my back, and the only thing I knew was that I was sprawled out in the grass with the storm god kissing the living daylights out of me. I moaned and tugged down hard on his soft silk lip and he huskily growled and wrapped a leg around my waist. Tristan curled his hands in my braid as I threw back my head, reveling in the delightful sensation of his fingers setting up liquid pools of adrenaline wherever they touched.

"Are we interrupting something here?" asked a pleasant voice from behind us. Horrified, Tristan and I both broke apart and looked up.

The Dessari had found us before we had found them.

• • • • •

Shit hits the ceiling the next chapter! Things are gonna get worse ;) that's a promise! I'm really hoping those two get together - but knowing me, it'll never happen before something tragic occurs. Something tragic is on its way next week, because we've found the Dessari! Get ready for an action packed chase and do drop a vote, please!