Page 78

Then the nymph paused. It had noticed Ruby standing next to him, waving sweetly.

“Hello,” Ruby called. “Good to see you! Welcome to the wanderer’s void. Would you mind telling my husband where you were before this, so he can return you there?”

The nymph uncurled from its horrified slouch. Its blossoms opened curiously, and it took a hesitant step toward them.

“That’s what I said,” Slate muttered, annoyed.

Ruby patted his hip. “It’s the way you say it, dear.”

The nymph rubbed the moss on its arms, leaves sprouting from between its fingers.

“I-I was walking behind my family,” it began. “They told me to stay close, but I didn’t listen. There was a beautiful crystal flower bush, and I only wanted to look at it!”

“Crystal flower,” Ruby said. “Was this in the Crystal Wastes?”

The nymph nodded. Ruby gave him a significant look. Crystal Wastes were one of the many,manyplaces in the mortal realm where the veil was thin. Ruby knew them as well as he did,nowadays. Possibly even better. She knew much more about the mortal realm.

Slate concentrated, his eyes glowing behind his mask as he read the nymph’s heart.

The connection was strong. He could read all the confusion and fear inside it, the longing for its family, for their comforting branches to wrap around its thin, spiky form.

Slate bowed his head. “I send you back, young one.”

The nymph’s eyes bloomed wide.

Its mouth opened. “Thank?—”

Then it was gone. A single rose petal drifted where it stood, swept up by a warm breeze.

Ruby wound a shred of shadow around her finger and leaned on Slate’s arm. “Did it get home safe?”

Slate focused, pulling the connection he had kept in a loose grip. He could see the crystal-lined path, the nymph’s bewildered relief turning to joy as it spotted its family. He got the briefest impression of branches wrapping the nymph close before the connection dissolved, leaving Slate with a warm feeling of home that didn’t fade as he returned to himself.

“It got home,” he confirmed. “It is with its family now.”

Ruby hummed happily. The shadowy leaves around her gusted up in a happy torrent, and Slate watched them with contentment he hadn’t known was possible until a mortal stumbled into his void and bound him.

“That’s enough work for today, I think,” Ruby said. She tapped his arms, and Slate lifted her obediently until she could kiss him without straining.

Ruby brushed their noses together. “Take me back to bed.”

Slate growled, walking them back until she was pressed into a tree.

“Why?” he asked, voice low. “Are you still sleepy?”

Ruby giggled. “No. But I want you inside me again at least once before you make me breakfast.”

“As my witch requests,” Slate said, starting the trek back to the castle.

Ruby slid her hand under his loincloth, halting his gait.

“No,” she said, her mouth brushing his jaw. “Here. Now.”

Slate groaned, stiffening under her touch. He ran a hand down her dress, the shadowy material dissipating until she was naked in his arms.

“Good,” Ruby whispered. “Now, take me, my beloved Bygone.”

Slate growled and did.

Much later, Slate crawled back into his nest with his wife in his arms.

She settled against him, sweaty and satisfied. She fell asleep as soon as her head hit his chest, snoring softly.

Slate stared at the castle ceiling, waiting. He slept less often these days, though he was still difficult to wake up.

Slate stroked her hair and curled tighter around Ruby’s sleeping body. He could feel sleep rising to claim him.

His eyes drifted shut. If he did oversleep, his wife would be there to wake him.