(Skeleton Key) Into Elurien (10 page)

I moved away from the edge and sat in the shadows. Looking down was making me queasy, and I needed a minute to catch my breath.

Zinian returned, landing neatly on the ledge outside, and stalked into the cave. He offered me a hand and pulled me to my feet. “We have to return to the city.”

I would have been pleased to have him coming back with us if he hadn’t appeared so distressed. “Why? What’s wrong?”

His nostrils flared slightly as he looked toward the forest. “I don’t know. The scholars who’ve been borrowing your books have learned something about Verelle’s whereabouts. They want to see both of us. And they want your key.”

A chill came over me. “Something bad?”

“I don’t know. I doubt they’d have sent for me if it were good news. Come on, I’ll take you down.”

We stood at the edge of the cliff. “Put your arms around me,” he said. “I can’t fly carrying too much extra weight, but we can glide down.”

My chest tightened. “You’re sure?”

“I am. Actually…” He wrapped an arm under my butt and scooped me up. “Wrap your legs around my waist.”

Not exactly how I was hoping to receive that order.

I held on tight as he leaned forward, and we fell.

W
e followed
the palace corridors to the meeting room where the leaders had decided my fate.

The journey back had been long and uncomfortable. Auphel had carried me again while Jaid rode and Zinian flew, and I’d felt like the weakest link in the group. It was a wonder that creatures as comparatively frail as humans had risen up to rule this world. The night in the forest had been long and cold, and Jaid’s sharp eyes and sharper tongue kept me and Zinian apart. I’d hardly slept until nearly dawn and had wakened feeling worse than when I’d closed my eyes.

All of that paled now as Jaid pushed the door open.

Three scholars waited for us. I recognized the elderly male centaur, with his pale coat and fluffy white hair, and the female minotaur whose slim human body seemed ill-equipped to hold up her bovine head. The dog that sat between them was a stranger. It watched as we entered, shaggy black-and-white head cocked to one side, ears perked up.

The table was covered with leather-and cloth-bound books that made the room feel only slightly warmer than the last time I’d visited it.

“At last,” the dog said, and rested a forepaw on the table. “We’ve been waiting.”

“My apologies, Tuwina,” Zinian said.

“You have the key?”

I took it from my bag. I was no longer using it as a lucky charm, but never went anywhere without it on the chance that I might find a locked door to try. “I haven’t had any luck so far.”

I handed it to Eriel, the minotaur. “You will,” she said. “All of the information is here, encoded in these books. Tuwina has deciphered enough that we think we have found the door we need. And we believe we know where Verelle is, and how to bring her back to face justice—if that’s what we decide is the proper course of action.”

“Sit,” the dog said. We obeyed. Zinian took the seat next to me and gave my hand a quick squeeze under the table.

“Is there any question that Verelle should be brought back?” he asked. “If we’re ready for her, we can end it quickly.” He didn’t add that he’d finally be able to rest once it was done, but I heard it in the tightness of his voice. This was what he had lived for these past years, ever since he’d seen the depths of her cruelty. He would finally be free.

The scholars exchanged glances. “That will be up to the leaders, of course,” Eriel said. “You among them, Zinian. We needed to speak to the human to be certain it would be possible.” She turned her chocolate-brown eyes on me and blinked slowly. “Hazel, we understand you’ve wanted to go home.”

“I have,” I said with less certainty than I would have spoken with a few weeks before.

“Verelle is in your world. It seems that she didn’t call you here, but she did use your arrival to her advantage. She saw an opening, and she made the exchange. We believe that because of that connection, returning you home would bring her here.”

My heart lurched. “She’s there? In my world? My town?”

“Not to worry,” said Daun, the old centaur. “We’re almost certain her magic would be useless there, if she’s still alive.”

“Almost?”

Daun and Eriel exchanged another look over Tuwina’s head. “You said there’s no magic in your world. We’re not concerned,” Tuwina said.

I let out a breath. At least there was that.

“All would be restored to what it was before,” Eriel assured me.

My breath caught in my throat. That was what I’d hoped for, wasn’t it? When I’d arrived in this world, all I’d wanted was to go home. But now… now things were different. If I wasn’t in love with Zinian, I at least thought we were on our way to something that might be amazing, better than anything I’d had at home. I’d be leaving my dear Auphel, and Qinwan. And my library, which was beginning to feel like a real home. I’d be abandoning my work there, which had already turned out to be so helpful. And to return to what? A critical mother and a hen-pecked father, at least until I saved enough money to move to my own shabby little place. A life surrounded by the same people I’d tried to leave behind once before. A world that was familiar and comfortable, but that I could only picture in black and white after the excitement and colour of this one.

I could have been happy here,
I realized, and my throat tightened. It would have been so hard, but so worth it. In Elurien I might have learned to let go of my fears, to take chances and be the new person I already felt myself becoming.

But I couldn’t leave my world to suffer under Verelle. Not if the scholars weren’t completely certain that she wasn’t harming my old friends and family. And not if it would keep this world from the resolution it so needed, and Zinian from finishing the task he’d taken up years ago.

I hadn’t realized that everyone was staring at me until I finished thinking and raised my eyes to meet Tuwina’s. “I suppose I should go, then.”

“Wait,” Zinian said. “Are we certain it’s safe? What if Hazel opens a door and it’s to the wrong world? What if something goes wrong, and we don’t know to help her?”

Jaid’s mouth opened in surprise. She had wanted him to give up his obsession with Verelle, but I doubted she’d be pleased by the concerns that had displaced it. They pleased me, though.

“We’ll make sure we have all of the information we need before we do anything,” Eriel said. “Hazel has become a member of our community, and we don’t wish to see her harmed. Besides, accuracy is the only way to be certain that Verelle will be called back.”

Auphel chewed the skin beside her thumbnail, but remained silent.

“We’ll speak to the other leaders and finish our planning tonight,” Daun said, reaching for a heavy book bound in rough hide. “We thank you all. You’re excused.”

I fought down the bile that rose in my throat.
This is how it should be,
I told myself, and remembered the stories of my childhood. Didn’t people always have to go home at the end of these adventures? Dorothy did. Peter and Susan and what’s-their-names did. Balance was always restored.

We rose to leave. All except Auphel. “You’re sure it has to be this way?” she asked.

“We are,” Daun said, not unkindly. “We are terribly sorry.”

Zinian leaned over Auphel’s shoulder. “I’ll see that you stay on to work in the library,” he said. His voice held a rough edge, and he spoke quietly.

Auphel nodded and stood. “Thank you. That wasn’t what I was worried about, though.”

We stepped into the hallway, and Jaid cleared her throat. “This is a good thing you’re doing, Hazel.” She offered a hand, and I shook it. “If I don’t see you again, I wish you well.”

I smiled uncertainly. “Thanks.”

She turned and left.

“I’ll see you at the library?” Auphel asked.

“Sure.”

Everything was crumbling around me already. My heart fluttered like a caged bird as I watched her shamble away. I closed my eyes.

Zinian placed a hand on my arm, and I leaned against the solid reality of his body. He rested his chin on top of my head and held me close.

“I don’t want you to go,” he said. “Much as I want to see Verelle’s head roll, it’s not worth losing you. You can change your mind.”

“No,” I said, and sniffled. I hadn’t realized I was crying. “I want to stay here with you. But my people might be in danger. My whole world. I have to know.”

“I understand.” He let go, and I stepped away from him.

“So,” I said, and made myself smile. “You still want to come by for supper? Last chance.”

He didn’t smile back. “I wouldn’t miss it for anything.”

A
uphel grew restless that day
, and decided to spend the night outside of the city, roaming the woods and sleeping under the stars as she’d done before my arrival. I understood the impulse. I couldn’t stay still, myself, and wanted nothing more than to run from the inevitable goodbyes. She left early, and I spent the afternoon tidying the library, cleaning my apartment, and bathing and grooming myself as well as I could with nothing but a bar of soap and a hairbrush.

In a spare moment I tried to write a letter to Zinian explaining how I felt. I knew I wouldn’t be able to say it out loud. The ink was lovely, the paper smooth, my penmanship perfect, and yet the words wouldn’t come. I’d known kind and generous people before. I’d known attractive people before, and brave ones. I had cared for people and loved them. But it had never added up to this. This strange feeling that I wanted to protect him even as I wanted to let him do the same for me, that I wanted to feel his soul—his spark, maybe—as much as I wanted to feel his body, that losing him would hurt more than losing my entire old life had. I’d never so regretted needlessly losing time with someone, or felt so shattered at the thought of separation.

I wrote that and more, but my attempts came out sounding melodramatic and not at all like what I truly felt. I balled up the paper and put the ink away.

I should have been excited about going home, but everything around me was a reminder of what I was leaving behind. The cool quiet of the library, filled with the miraculously warm and living scent of books… the heavy woven blankets I’d found for my bed, patterned in a riot of pink and red roses, and the cool sheets beneath… even the cantankerous wood stove in my apartment nearly made me weep when I realized that I’d never enjoy its warmth on a winter evening while I snuggled in with a cup of sinsl, the fresh, sweet herbal tea blend Qinwan had introduced to me.

When I left to visit the butcher—on my own for the first time—I noticed that the monsters in the street no longer glared at me. They ignored me or gave curt but polite nods. They would have accepted me in time, I decided. Perhaps I could have helped them record their stories and history and kept all of it safe in the library. It would have been a massive undertaking, but fascinating. Tales of monsters and magic seemed quite appealing now that they were reality, and I could have collected them for barter. Memories for meat, stories for soap. A valuable service to offer.

But I only had one night, and I wasn’t planning to spend it with paper and ink. I’d considered the fact that it would be easier to keep my distance now, and decided I would never forgive myself if I didn’t make the most of every moment I had left with Zinian.

I dressed in a long skirt and a loose peasant-style blouse. Nothing underneath. Monsters didn’t care much for undergarments, and I was getting used to it. Still, this fabric was thin enough that I felt half-naked in spite of the shirt’s otherwise modest coverage.

I prepared two servings of meat in the cast-iron pan that the apartment’s last inhabitant had left behind. I’d just set the meat out to rest and started on a plain salad of wild greens when the door opened.

“Smells good.”

The hairs on the back of my neck prickled at his voice. “Not bad, right? I hope I didn’t overcook it.”

Zinian looked around the apartment, taking in the softly glowing candles, the framed prints of purple wildflowers on the wall, the huge window, and the wide bed with its single pillow and neatly folded blankets that I’d left turned down at the foot. “It’s still exceedingly human,” he said, running his fingers over a shelf that displayed a small collection of wooden toys I’d found in the library, “but I like it far better than the palace.”

“So do I. That place is pretty, but so cold.”

He hadn’t bothered with a shirt this time. I supposed that was a formality that we’d moved beyond. I was glad. The less he was trapped by human things, the more comfortable he became. I watched as he moved with raw, powerful grace through my home, seeming to fill it with his presence even as he kept his wings tucked in close to avoid knocking into the furniture. His long talons clicked over the floor. I remembered how terrified I’d been when we’d met.

I couldn’t say I wasn’t scared now, but it was a far more pleasant feeling tonight. My skin tingled, and I became aware of every soft brush of my clothing against it.

He stopped near the overstuffed loveseat, but didn’t sit. “It feels like you in here.”

“It’s getting there.”

“You’re sure you want to leave? Pull-toys and gaudy blankets are a lot to leave behind.” His joking tone sounded forced and hard.

I left the food on the sideboard and went to him. “They’re not what I’m sorry to be leaving.”

His hands flexed at his sides as he looked up to take in the bare-beamed rafters overhead. “The plan seems too risky. You’re safe here, now. Even Jaid is softening.”

“Only because I’m going,” I noted. “I don’t think she’d be too happy about this.”

“Good thing neither of us answers to her.”

“Good thing.” The food was getting cold, but I’d lost my appetite for it. “Everyone must be happy that this will all be over soon. That Verelle will get what she deserves.”

Zinian’s shoulders slumped. “Not so long ago, that thought would have thrilled me.”

I stepped closer. “What thrills you now?”

He smiled slightly, revealing the barest hint of fangs. “You. The way we kissed in the cave. The fact that we’re here together, and actually alone this time.”

My cheeks warmed. I knew what I wanted. What would thrill me. I knew it was risky, that it would make leaving that much harder. Relationships with no future had never figured into my plans.

I didn’t care. I needed to be reckless this once, to be brave and take something I wanted just because it felt right in the moment, never mind the consequences.

I traced the line of his jaw and trailed my fingers slowly over his throat and his chest, down the hard lines of his stomach. My body responded to the sight and smell of him, and the shirt I wore did nothing to hide it. He smiled slowly as he watched me, taking every detail in, as seemed to be his way.

I would miss being looked at like that.

Zinian shivered, but his voice when he spoke was thick and warm. “I really think we should skip supper.”

He leaned in and kissed me far more gently than he had in the cave, lips barely brushing mine. I lifted myself onto my toes to get closer and placed my hands on his shoulders.

“I wish we had more time,” he whispered, and kissed behind my ear. “I want to take this slowly enough to drive you insane.”

I drew in a quick breath as he untucked my billowy blouse and explored the bare flesh beneath, trailing his claws over my back and my stomach, using the pad of his thumb to press gently against one nipple as he cupped my breast, moving slowly and with perfect control.

I gasped. “You are a monster, aren’t you?”

“I did warn you.”

He tried to pull the blouse over my head, but I stopped him. “Hang on. You first.”

“Go ahead, then.” He waited, hands hanging at his sides, the barest hint of a smile daring me to do as I wished.

I reached for the laces on his pants as though stripping a monster bare was the most natural thing in the world, loosened the strings, and eased them down over his finely shaped backside.

“Well?”

I nearly laughed with relief, but sensed that wouldn’t go over well. “Impressive. Perfect. Is it all right for me to say I’m glad your human parent contributed that part?”

He chuckled. “Absolutely. Your turn, now.”

I looked him over, wings to horns to claws, and hesitated.

“What?” he asked.

“I just… I won’t be too human for you?”

He grabbed the hem of my shirt again. I lifted my arms over my head and closed my eyes. Though the air in the apartment was warm, a chill came over me as it caressed my skin. My skirt slipped easily over my hips and hit the floor.

I reminded myself that he wanted me as I was, that he would have thought razors and makeup and fancy underwear were ridiculous. Here, I just had to be me. But would it be enough?

“Hazel. Look at me.”

I opened my eyes. He’d ducked his head down, placing his face before mine. My chest tightened and then seemed to liquefy as our eyes met.

“You are human. And you are beautiful. You are yourself, and all I want.” His gaze travelled appreciatively over my body. “And you should never wear clothes.”

I laughed, and he pulled me into a deep kiss. It seemed impossible that he should want me as badly as I wanted him. In that moment I thought I might be swept away on the waves of my own desire as they burned through my body.

Damn plans. Damn consequences.

I fell back on the bed and pulled him down with me. His wings spread as though to slow the fall, and remained flexed as he bent to trail kisses down my throat and over my chest. Every brush of his lips and tongue sent shudders through me, and the faint scratch of his teeth on my breast was nearly enough to push me over the edge. I grabbed his hair and pulled his face to mine. His teeth grazed my tongue, drawing blood, and I pulled him closer.

He propped himself up on one elbow and brushed my hair away from my face. Our eyes met, and my heart stilled.

I don’t love him
, I told myself.
I can’t. It’s too soon.
And yet the connection we shared felt deeper and wilder and more exciting than anything I’d known before. More promising.

I’d had to step into a fairy tale to find something real.

His claws trailed over my thighs, and I opened them to him. He touched me without scratching, again using the pads of his fingers, only teasing with his claws.

“Shit,” I gasped.

He laughed, then caught something in my expression that made him pause. “What?”

“I just…” He didn’t stop touching me as I spoke, and it made it hard to find the words. “I’m scared of falling for you more than I already have.”

His smile returned, gentle and somehow devilish at the same time. He leaned in and kissed my throat.

“I don’t want you to fall,” he whispered as he rolled on top of me, teasing with gentle pressure. “I want you to fly.”

I didn’t let myself think about losing him, about never finding this again. Instead I lost myself in his eyes, in his body, in the relentless thundering of our hearts and the sound of his breath in my ear as we moved together.

I lost control. And for once, I didn’t mind.

T
he sun shone
far too brightly the next morning, and the birds flittering outside the window mocked me with their brilliant plumage and cheerful songs.

Zinian and I lay silent, facing each other, covers thrown aside. We’d run out of words and energy hours before, but I hadn’t slept much. As the beginnings of faint sunlight breached the dark of our private space, I’d begun memorizing the lines of his face and his body.

Remembering would hurt, but forgetting would mean going back to sleep after something new had been awakened in me. I didn’t want to forget the way my chest ached when I looked into his eyes, the way other parts of me stirred when he smiled at me. I’d always thought the idea that a person could fall in love so quickly was ridiculous. I’d certainly taken my cautious time about it before. But I suspected I’d found something in Zinian that defied logic or plans. A kindred soul of sorts. One who made me feel brave, who understood my wounds, who would accept my shadows along with my bright spots, just as I would his.

The people of my world would never understand what I’d sacrificed for them.

I touched my cold feet to the warm scales of his lower legs, and he trailed a long talon over my ankle. His gentleness had come as a shock to me. Though he kissed forcefully, and he’d excited me with the threat of the physical power of his body, he’d put my pleasure before his and accommodated my weaker human form all night as though he couldn’t have wished for anything else.

If my mattress had suffered at the mercy of his claws when he lost control, it was no great loss.

I wanted more. Wanted to know what else he was capable of. Wanted to know what he would be like if we had time to play, time to tease. What it would be like to let ourselves go without fear of ruining the only night we’d ever have together.

And yet… And yet it had been perfect.

Zinian pulled me closer. I tucked my head under his chin and breathed in the scent of his skin, wild and indescribably exciting. I wondered whether he carried the essences of every creature that had gone into making him.

He rolled me onto my back and slipped lower to nuzzle under my chin, nipping gently at the soft skin of my throat. “We could just stay here,” he said, his voice barely a whisper, as though he was afraid to break the spell we’d woven together in our silence.

“Sure. No one would notice if I didn’t show up.” I lifted his face and pulled him in to kiss my lips.

For the last time.

No. There’s time. We still—

A heavy fist pounded on the door in a familiar non-rhythm.

“Auphel,” we said together. My insides fluttered in panic, and I fought the urge to hide under the bed.

I knew what I had to do. It was the right thing, the brave thing. And the absolute last thing I wanted.

I didn’t let myself think of home in anything but the vaguest rose-tinted tones as Zinian and I dressed. My polka-dot pyjama pants were long gone, but I had pants and a shirt that would only look a little out of place until I found something else.

Zinian let Auphel in, and she ducked her head down to pass under the arched doorway. She sat on the floor. “Ready?” she asked.

“No.”

They both looked at me, and tears prickled my eyes. “I’ll never be ready, though. And I’ll never have the right words to thank either of you for what you’ve done for me. I’ve never had friends like you. I’d take you over any of my own species if I had the choice.”

“Then stay,” Auphel said softly. Her own eyes were wet.

“I can’t.” I found Verelle’s old book on the shelf. “I have to go, because this is what’s got into my world. It’s poison, isn’t it? She’s poison, even if she doesn’t have her magic.”