Silver Hollow (25 page)
Just like those bad bo
ys Mamma used to warn you about.
“Never mind,” he said, waving aside the thought with a smirk, “you’d hate the business.
Flobbergidits
and their prickling needle coats and syrupy sweat. Can’t have our little princess looking like a bag of
slip kippers
,
can we?” Easing back onto his arm pillow, he sighed and stared unabashedly at the afternoon sunlight.
Amie tried to rub away the prickling sensation beneath her skin, when her gaze fell
to his neck and the scars
crisscrossed over it. Gasping
,
she said, “Where did you get those scars?”
Emrys tensed after a pained pause, twisted onto his stomach and stood with his back to her. Tucking his chin into his shoulder
,
he offered, “You’re free to go now
,
Jessamiene. We shall continue this lesson after supper.” He slipped away with little more than a farewell and left her wanting much more.
“Where are we going?” she said with her grass
-
shaded, life-riddled eyes peering up into his.
“
’
Tis not much farther, Jessamiene,” he assured with false chipper.
Blackguarded twixdithers!
He hated how easily she trusted him. Another day of lessons had passed betwixt them and he still had no inkling what to make of Iudicael’s niece. From the start he had difficulty calling her by her given name. When Slaine
had
introduced them properly, he nearly lost his head. Her given name was new, of course, but the second could nay be a coincidence.
After this moment
he fought what his heart and his nixy kept telling him.
In the pit, when their vastly different gifts clashed for the first time, he was nearly convinced she couldn’t be the wench. Her power felt euphoric to him, addictive to the point he found himself shadowing her steps even after their lessons. He
had
first felt it as he bumped into her at her parent
s
’ funeral and handed her Iudicael’s letter.
Thankfully she either did not recognize him, or refused to believe what her eyes were telling her.
Their casual brush in the streets in America and again later in the forgotten West Wing when she called him a
w
ight confirmed she was what they had feared.
Yet nothing could have prepared him for the dismal depths of greatness brewing within her. Harnessing her gift and molding it to his will appeased the darkness he was molded from, so he
had
nearly drained her dry. Still
,
he couldn’t reconcile
with
the way he felt every time their eyes met, a feeling he had never forgotten that resonated with his very being.
Nimue
,
he thought as he glanced back at the curls bobbing gently in front of her concentrated scowl.
A thousand lifetimes he had spent living and perishing but he didn’t think he could forget her face. He remembered every miniscule detail about Nimue. Once, she had been his only friend. On a whim she could be cruel and unforgiving. It was what drew his attention to Nimue before he knew she was like him, a
Tuatha
. Loving her was like a plague that latched onto his
body and continued to ravage his soul. And he
had
loved her long before they met, though he didn’t realize it until after her death.
Jessamiene was like her, much to his chagrin.
Too alike, if we’re being honest
,
Myrddin, lad…
“So, how did you get a name like Emrys?” Jessamiene piped up, throwing him back into half
-
shadowed memories. Emrys was different from the rest of his people. He had gone by many names and played many roles through his rare gift as a
Traveler
. Myrddin, they once called him, though his memory of that life was hazy at best. He did not remember causing quite so much of a stir as legend claimed.
He turned to find her watching him carefully and relaxed his face, then said, “I cannot remember that far back.” When she rolled her eyes, he found it harder to retain his objective. He couldn’t lose himself again, not like before.
“Okay
,
I get it. You’re the teacher and I’m the student, no blurred lines?”
Laughing dryly, he replied, “I suppose my mother gave me
this
name, as it’s the only one that remains with me each age.” Emrys smirked when she scrunched up her brow, pondering over his words again, no doubt. He had made a point from the moment they met to never to censor his words like the others did. He knew Iudicael’s reasons for keeping them silent and did not agree.
The sooner she knows and unders
tands what’s coming, the better.
Of course, this
was only
if
she hadn’t been tainted by the others.
Rain misted in thin icy sheets, betraying the coming autumn. Emrys did not stop
,
however
,
until they had banked left of the stables and headed straight into the forest. Beside him, Amie gaped at the dark trees and then rushed to catch up, wind tossing her skirts madly about. He frowned.
Either she’s a brilliant actress, or she truly doesn’t remember this
.
For centuries he
had
wandered and
Traveled
from one time plane to the next. Each lifetime the memories from the previous blurred and refocused once more. He was haunted by a nameless face until the hour he remembered her.
“We’ve passed the pit already,” she said with forced confidence. So much of her exterior was made of a false strength, self-built around her like chink armor after her parents’ death. He knew thi
s because he had been there, watching
.
Some things he couldn’t recall clearly any longer, but one aspect of his existence had not changed, not after ten millennia. He was a murderer, a killer of the worst kind
,
because a small part of his nature reveled in every death as much as he mourned them.
War, bloodshed and the occasional outlaw skirmish on this side of the Vale made his fierce heart tire too quickly. Man reached too desperately for evil these latter days, forgot to live sacred. They forgot their Creator. A hundred thousand wars and Emrys could never forget the One he owed everything to, even if he made a fine mess of things along the way.
She had taught him that and her portrait always screamed louder when his mind tried to forget.
Jessamiene snatched his hand in hers, dragged him to a stop with a tug of his hand. “Wait!” Amie glanced nervously at the silent forest. “Do we have to go in there?”
Her skin burned him like a cold fire and
,
masking his discomfort
,
he pulled away with a laugh. “Why not?” He scanned her face carefully, watchful
for
any foul intent. It had taken years for him to learn each of Nimue’s many faces. He had to make certain she hadn’t found some way to come back to him again, to torment him. Their eyes were too similar, the color of fresh spring grass. Even the small freckle below her jawline, at the side of her neck, was the same.
Nothing is a coincidence
,
Myrddin,
he reminded himself.
He ignored the quick pull of desire he felt as he watched her bite her lip and turn to the castle rising at the peak of the hill. “It’s just I’ve never…”
“Forbid ye to go into the forest, did they?” he asked with more force than he’d intended.
Careful, if it’s already too late she’ll know if you are onto her, ye fool!
Without asking, he could sense the turmoil of her thoughts and addressed them. He
drew nearer
, until her scent was unbearably
close
, until he could feel the charge of her inner nixy rise up and brush against his. “Some gates are meant to be opened, Jessamiene,” he said
,
all too aware of her. Fighting the temptation to take her in his arms and prove him right
was
much harder than it should have been. He knew well it would only take one passionate embrace for him to know if she was who she claimed to be. No matter how many lifetimes he lived, Emrys would never forget the way his arms had felt around the enchantress he had loved.
Jessamiene seemed wholly unaware of her own glamour, and this was what made her so dangerous to one like him. She broke her spell over him with her words. “Okay. Let’s go.”
What if they aren’t the same? It wouldn’t be beyond the Creator to send her back with no memory of ye, a worse punishment than hell.
Emrys reined his
nixy
in, yet fighting the beast inside of him was harder around her.
The ground was soft, as if the dark soil had been undisturbed
. Animal trails
presented paths that
overlapped
in shadow bent directions. Silently they tr
od
these shadows, though clearly she hadn’t caught the knack for stealth yet. Since the ring
had
awoke
n
her true
form
, Emrys had watched her shift out of the human shell.
As s
oon as Iudicael returned they would continue to mold her into the shape they desired, he thought with disgust.
Emrys abhorred Silver Hollow for its wealth of pious
Sidhe
and their lackluster souls. In all his past century of meanderings he had made a point never to set foot in this horrid borderland again. Of course, even if he had wanted to, the council wouldn’t have allowed him to reach the key. They made it his punishment, this banishment from their sacred Vale. Well, the Merlin knew things about their precious haven that could peel the skin off a
flobbergidit
’
s
backside. So it was just as well he owed too much to the underlings
lurking
in the Vale’s darkest corners. The hour he stepped foot inside the crossing every
Golem, Darktwig and Humcking
would come after his
nixy
.
Wouldn’t be the first time.
By banishing him to the human realm, the council was doing him a favor, really, giving him millennia of respite. He couldn’t regret interfering in the humans’ troubles either. What fun would eternity be if he didn’t dabble in his own sick brand of fun? The incident with Atlantis wasn’t really his fault, just a slip of his
nixy
. After all, the primitive fools
had
asked
him
to fix their island.
“I swear, these trees hate me or something,” Jessamiene grumbled when he was forced to reach out and steady her again.
Cursing inwardly for touching her beyond necessity, Emrys clenched his teeth and said, “Highly unlikely. I must object, love.” The idea of plants of any kind hating a Wenderdowne put an amused smirk to his face.
“Love you too,
Sensei
,” she lashed back at him.
Emrys cringed and questioned what he was about to do to her then, and if she could forgive him.
She couldn’t help it if certain tangling roots jutted up to trip her, or the curving leaves conveniently masked animal holes. In the past, Amie had gotten pretty decent at making a stumble resemble a modern dance move. She never fell flat on her face or into a wall like she
had done
before her childhood dance classes. Father always said she just hadn’t grown into her limbs. Amie felt stretched a bit but the graceful
-
looking legs hadn’t found their proper alignment apparently.
Emrys, though he was always a step ahead, his eyes scanning the distance harder to see depths of the old wood, caught her every time she stumbled.
So effortless we could have synchronized and wr
itten
a ballet
, Amie thought with a grin. With Emrys there to catch her she was able to focus less on the treacherous path and better the wooden labyrinth around them.
The trees were a
ncient,
gna
rled
,
twisting things, spreading
their roots like a jungle vine. Leaves already dusted the earth though Amie knew it should still be summer. Pale green moss coated fallen logs and stray rocks, watched over by proud jumbo mushrooms. The faeries Amie had watched winking in and out
the
dreamlike night of her arrival were absent, so the forest was dark. Only slivers of morning light poked their head through the impenetrable foliage. Wind did not stir this deep into the wood. The forest groaned and cracked and bent to its own tree lament.