Heart of Fire (30 page)

In one of cook’s pestle and mortars,
Jessalyne muddled a selection of fresh and dried herbs into a
dollop of tallow to make a salve for Fynna’s hands.

“Fynna? Are you
sleeping?”

The pixie shook her head silently
and sat up.

“I want to spread this on your
hands. It will sting a bit at first but then it will numb them
slightly and take the pain away while they heal, all
right?”

Fynna nodded and stretched her arms
out.

Jessalyne spread the mix onto
Fynna’s palms with as little pressure as possible. Fynna gasped as
the salve covered the first bit of cracked skin. “It’s all right,
keep going.” She winced as she spoke.

Once Jessalyne finished, she began
making a restorative tea to give her friend some energy back.
“You’ll feel better soon.”

“The pain in my hands is gone and
the bleeding has stopped.” Fynna wiggled her fingers
slightly.

Cook set a plate of cheese and dark
bread with raisin butter in front of Fynna as she looked at Fynna’s
hands again. “I must be daft! So sorry, love, ya can’t eat that
with your hands such a sight, can ya? Leave that for Jessalyne.
I’ve something better than that for ya.” She disappeared into the
cold larder and came back with a large bowl of creamy egg
custard.

She scooped the pale cream into a
smaller bowl and added a healthy dollop of raspberry preserves on
top. “Now, that should be manageable.” She set the bowl and a spoon
in front of Fynna and gave the pixie a wink.

“Thank you, cook.” Fynna held the
spoon in her fingertips and took a large bite. Closing her eyes,
she swallowed the custard. “Mmmm. Almost as good as chocolate
biscuits.”

Jessalyne finished brewing the tea
and set a mug next to the bowl of custard. “Drink this. It’ll give
you some energy.”

“Thank you, both of you. I feel
better already. It’s nice to be taken care of for a change.” Fynna
sipped the tea and made a face. “I might take that back. What is
this stuff?”

“Just drink it. It’ll help, I
promise.” Jessalyne smiled but inside she was seething. Something
had to change in the wretched way Sryka treated the
pixie.

Fynna gulped the tea down with a
grimace. “Ugh. That is truly awful.”

“But good for you. Why don’t we go
back up to the room and you can lie down?”

“I thought you wanted to go out into
the garden?”

“Don’t be silly. You need
rest.”

“A nap sounds like a great
idea.”

They took the stairs at a slower
pace than usual. When they entered the room, Jessalyne’s bed was
mounded high with fancy dresses. A slip of parchment lay atop the
pile of gowns.

“What’s all this?” Fynna asked as
she eased onto her bed.

Jessalyne groaned. “The prince
mentioned something about sending out to his clothier for a
selection of gowns for me.”

She snatched the parchment from the
top of the heap and read it aloud. “Please accept these as a gift
from your future Lord King. I am sure you will do me the honor of
wearing one at dinner. Prince Erebus”

“Wonderful. Sryka told me I could
have dinner in the garden. I suppose the prince’s request tops
that.” Sighing, she held up the first dress, a ruffled confection
in peach and green. Jessalyne wrinkled her nose. “This
is...”

“Hideous? Abominable? Very Salena?”
Fynna laughed so hard tears seeped from the corners of her
eyes.

“You obviously feel
better.”

“Yes, I do. Let’s see the next
selection.”

Jessalyne held up the second gown.
Done in orange velvet and lace, strands of pearls dripped from the
bodice. “Oh my...this is worse than the first one.”

“I really think you should try them
on.”

“Shouldn’t you be
sleeping?”

“There has to be one gown in that
pile worth wearing. What is that bit of blue I see?”

From underneath several gowns,
Jessalyne pulled out the dress Fynna pointed at. She held the dusty
blue brocade gown with pale ivory satin trim in front of her. “What
do you think?”

“Quite lovely, actually. I wonder
how that found it’s way into that pile.”

“Purely accidental, I’m
sure.”

“You should get ready
soon.”

Jessalyne laid the dress down.
“There’s time. I need to heal your hands.”

“But you put the salve on
them.”

“Sryka’s not about to release you
from your duties long enough for you to heal properly. Stretch them
out so I can see them.”

Fynna sat up and held her hands out
in front of her.

Jessalyne held her own hands overtop
Fynna’s small blue ones and let the magic rush through her. A quick
sharp flash of pain washed over her hands and was gone.

“Amazing.” Fynna flexed her fingers.
“The pain is gone.” She threw her arms around Jessalyne’s neck.
“I’ve never seen such power in Sryka. You mustn’t ever show her
your true abilities. Her jealousy would not be a good
thing.”

“You needn’t worry about that. When
I’m under her teaching, I let her think I’m a complete
novice.”

“Good. You must protect yourself.
Now, you’d better dress. The dinner chimes will ring before you
know it.”

While Jessalyne changed, she told
Fynna of her day with the king. “How long has Sryka been providing
the king with that awful smelling tonic?”

“Quite some time now. I’ve never
seen her make it and I never have to wash the pots when she is
done. She must keep it locked in her room. I never have to deliver
it either. Usually one of the king’s stewards comes for it early. I
used to pass them on the stairs as I was going up for the day. Now
that you’re here, they must come very early because I never see
them at all any more.”

“She delivered it herself yesterday.
I don’t know how the king can drink the stuff. Maybe she’s
poisoning him. Do you think?” Jessalyne looked at Fynna.

“No. She can’t do him harm. The Oath
of Amity prevents it. She took it when she became the king’s
magewoman and you’ll take it when you become magewoman to the
prince.”

“The Oath of Amity?”

“It’s a barrier spell to prevent the
king’s mage from using magic against him or doing him
harm.”

Jessalyne finished tying herself
into the prince’s gift. “I guess it’s just some awful tonic, then.
How do I look?”

“Lovely. I have a feeling the
prince’s hands will be lively tonight.”

Jessalyne rolled her eyes. “I’m not
looking forward to this evening.”

Fynna lay back down. “You could
always set him on fire.”

“Ah yes, that should do it. Thank
you so much for your help.” Jessalyne stuck her tongue out before
heading to the great hall.

The days continued and Jessalyne’s
stayed the same. Mornings spent learning insignificant charms and
spells from Sryka, afternoons chatting with the king, and dinners
finding new ways to divert the prince’s attentions.

At night, much to Fynna’s delight,
she practiced her magic in the confines of their quarters. The ache
in her heart increased. She missed Ertemis more every
day.

One morning she woke as the weak
glow of firstlight barely edged the horizon, another dream of her
dark elf filling her sleep with visions. She slipped out of bed
quietly so as not to wake Fynna and stood by the window. The dream
had been so real, more so than any before it. The remembered feel
of his arms around her made her weak and the most awful thought
crept into her head. What if he never came back? What if she never
saw him again?

She pressed the necklace he’d given
her to her lips and her eyes burned with unshed tears. Tipping her
head back to keep them from falling, a sob escaped her
throat.

“What’s wrong?” Sleep thickened
Fynna’s voice.

Jessalyne shook her head. Her voice
would crack if she tried to speak.

Fynna padded across the floor and
slipped her arm around Jessalyne’s waist. Are you crying? Did you
have a nightscare?”

Jessalyne pressed the heels of her
hands against her eyes. Tears solved nothing.

Fynna rested her head against
Jessalyne’s side. “You dreamed of him again, didn’t you? You must
miss him so.”

“He isn’t coming back, is
he?”

“Don’t say that. He’ll return, I
know it.”

Sniffing deeply, Jessalyne shook her
head. “No, he won’t. It’s been too long.” She gazed out the window
at the brightening sky. “I’ve been here for more than a month,
Fynna. He told me he could hear my voice in his head.”

“Mindsight?”

Jessalyne nodded. “I’ve called out
to him every day and still he doesn’t come. It’s time I give up my
foolish fantasies and just forget him or I’ll live the rest of my
life longing for a man who doesn’t even remember me.”

* * *

Ertemis turned as his mother walked
away. The Ferryman waited for him at the end of the curving pier.
He led Dragon down the steps and back onto the skiff.

The fog rolled in when the Ferryman
pushed off, blocking all sight of Elysium. Ertemis took one last
look at the ring his mother had given him and tucked it beneath his
breastplate and tunic. He was so wrapped in thought, he barely
noticed they reached the far shore in half the time it took to get
to Elysium.

Dragon followed him off onto the
small pier and although Ertemis knew the Ferryman would already
been gone, he looked back anyway. Nothing but swirling mist and
gray water remained.

The sun set as he made his way
through the bog, lighting the sky with fire. He stayed on the high
path as lastlight descended. He urged Dragon on, unwilling to spend
the night in the marshland that served as a buffer between the
mortal world and Elysium.

He approached the forest line, his
elven sight picking out subtle differences. Everything was somehow
different. The leaves were larger, the greens slightly darker.
Blooms replaced buds. The boom of bullfrogs greeted him instead of
the trill of tadpoles.

Panic twisted his gut. The day spent
on Elysium had been much more than a day in Shaldar. He studied the
constellations. Spring was well over and summer was in full sway.
He cursed the time lost.

He opened his mind and comforted
himself with the cadence of Jessalyne’s heartbeat. Digging his
heels into Dragon’s side, he took off for Shaldar City, forming a
plan as he rode. By now, any number of men could have wooed
Jessalyne. She must think him gone for good. If she still thought
of him at all.

The overwhelming need for sleep grew
the farther he traveled. The effects of time spent on Elysium were
catching up to him. He would have to sleep, even if just for an
hour or two.

He jerked back and realized he had
drifted for a moment. Even Dragon plodded along in a fog. Ahead sat
a small cluster of thatched cottages. Magda and Brynden. He could
make it at least that far.

Focusing on a small square of
candlelit window, he kept on until he and Dragon were at last in
front of the cottage. He slid off Dragon and dropped to the ground
with a thud.

The light inside the cottage went
out.

Ertemis knocked softly on the door.
Nothing. He knocked again and waited. The door opened a crack and
he could see Brynden peering out.

“I was here with Lady Jessalyne, she
healed your—”

“Master elf?” He spoke to someone
inside the cottage. “Grams, relight the candle, it’s all right.” He
turned to Ertemis. “What brings you back to our home?”

“I need a place to sleep and Dragon
needs tending. I also have a matter to discuss with you in the
morning.”

Magda pulled the door open and
chided her grandson. “Let the man in, Brynden. Where’s yer manners,
child?”

“Sorry, Grams.” He slipped past and
took Dragon’s reins. “I’ll take care of your horse.”

“Thank you, Brynden. Mistress Magda,
pardon my intrusion at such a late hour. I seek shelter for the
night and of course, I will compensate you for your
trouble.”

She looked past him. “The lady ain’t
with you?”

“No.” Not yet.

“Come inside. You were more than
generous during yer last visit. You can have the boy’s
bed.”

The soft glow of embers in the stove
cast the cottage in a warm light. Half a loaf of seeded bread sat
on the table. His stomach growled.

“Hungry, are ya?”

“Aye.”

She unwrapped a hunk of cheese from
some waxed linen and set it next to the bread. After rummaging in a
cabinet, she added a pot of honey. “Eat then. I’ll have fresh eggs
in the morning and porridge. Nothing fancy but it’ll fill
ya.”

He tore into the bread, smearing it
liberally with honey before stuffing it into his mouth. He
swallowed, then spoke. “If you can spare him, I want to hire
Brynden as my squire for a short time.”