Page 10 of Out of Time (The Ice King Chronicles #3)

Glorfindel

I dug the box from the trash and finished the cake after he left—it was so good, though not as sweet as the honey cakes I enjoyed at home, and I always ate when I felt anxious. I put the box back afterward to prevent Ethan from complaining about how eating out of the trash was nasty, and he wasn’t going to clean up after me, and I didn’t have any servants here, and he wasn’t my mother and blah, blah, blah, like he’d done the day before when he found my snack dishes I’d left on the table.

Then I just stood there, unsure as to what to do next. I wished for a nice bath with the sweet oils I had at home, but all I had was that booth in my room with the water that came down on my head. Still, it was better than nothing, and I hadn’t had time that morning yet to use it, so I went up to get in the water booth and wash my hair. At least the spray coming down on my head was nice and warm. Then too, Ethan had given me some of his soap that he called shower gel, and it smelled like him. It was...quite nice.

Not for the first time in the last couple of days I thought about my feelings for him. I didn’t like him. Not exactly. But at the same time, I craved his attention and wanted to be near him all the time. He was a wonderful lover—the best I’d ever had, and I considered myself a connoisseur. But why did he irritate me and confound me and fascinate me so much? I had even revised my original opinion of how he looked. Because of course, he was gorgeous. I’d just been too stubborn to admit it before.

When I’d first seen him, I pronounced him good looking enough “for a mostly mortal.” Now I admitted the truth, which was that he was one of the best-looking males I’d ever seen. Which made sense, considering he was a quarter Fairy and descended from them. The pairing between a Fairy and a mortal always produced exquisite children, and his mother must have really been something to see. His mortal ancestors too, for that matter.

As I washed my hair, I sang a little song I liked. The tune was the same as an old English ballad—one that was stolen from the Fairies originally. It was called Greensleeves , and some say old Henry VIII who, according to legend, “wrote” the little song, heard the Folk singing in a Tudor Forest once when he was hunting. He’d “adopted” the tune, added his own words and passed it off as his.

I sang the original version— The moon is shining, the stars are bright, and the Folk in the forest are dancing tonight. The songs they sing are light and gay, as they strut and sway, strut and sway. Hear them sing as they dance in a ring. Dance in a ring, dance in a ring. Hear them sing as they dance in a ring and frolic the night away.

It was catchy, though the tune itself can be a bit mournful. I closed my eyes so I wouldn’t get the gel stuff in them and was really getting into the song, when I heard someone clear his throat at the door. I grabbed for my towel and wiped my eyes. Ethan was staring in at me. The glass door was steamed up, so he couldn’t see much.

I opened the door so he could get a better look.

“Would you like to join me?” I asked, trying to be coquettish. Mostly I was teasing, though my cock didn’t seem to know it. It was standing up, proudly showing off.

He flushed dark red and turned his head. “Drogheda will be here soon. Hurry and get dressed.”

“If you insist.” I finished rinsing and stepped out, drying myself with one of his thick, fluffy towels. I missed the heated ones my servants held for me, but these were still nice. I’d intended to tease him a little more, but after a moment he turned away and left the little room, going in to sit on “my bed.” The one I still hadn’t slept in yet because I’d been in his bed the night before.

“I was able to summon her, and she’s coming,” he said, as I emerged with the towel wrapped around my middle. “I want her to verify for me that there isn’t a spell on me. I’ve checked myself, as I told you, but couldn’t find anything.”

“I told you I didn’t do anything.” I pulled the towel off to swipe it slowly over my groin and down my thigh.

“Damn it, get dressed. Are you doing this on purpose?”

“Maybe.”

He looked up sharply. “So you admit it?”

“I admit I’m enjoying teasing you right now. Nothing more.”

He growled and reached for me, pulling me to sit down on his lap, bending me backward over his arm. “Little boys who tease get spanked.”

I laughed. “Oh, yes, please.” Those little sparks flashed in his honey brown eyes again, and the corners of his lips turned up in a smile. He bent his head to kiss me, like he couldn’t help himself. The kiss was so hot, my mouth tingled, and I wanted more and more. I opened myself to him and his tongue flicked out and teased against mine. A dark and dangerous heat swept over me, and I knew this should stop. I had come to this realm to find true love and this mostly mortal man desired me, but I doubted that he really loved me.

People think they’re in love all the time, but they’re not. They only think they are because they crave that feeling of being entranced by someone out of the blue. It’s exciting and some come to like that feeling so much they chase after it until they make it their own. Then once it belongs to them, they grow bored with it and put it away, like a once beloved toy they’ve outgrown. And soon they’re off again after the next shiny new thing.

That feeling can be just intense sexual chemistry with someone—someone who drives you absolutely crazy the rest of the time. It can be so many things—passion, fondness, lust, devotion, obsession—but rarely is it real love. Not the I-can’t-live-without-you true love. The kind that lasts through good times and bad, and doesn’t fade over time, or distance or any other impediment. Not even death can end it. It makes you burn, makes you cry, makes your soul blaze through the sky like a shooting star, but at the same time stay as constant and ever burning as the sun. That kind of love makes you belong to each other.

I knew that Ethan might think he had feelings of love for me. He’d admitted to feeling like he had a love spell on him. Or more to the point, he thought I had put a love spell on him, one that was so clever he hadn’t been able to find it or break it yet.

Still, it was hard for me to break away from him. I thought I could spend most of the day here on this bed, kissing him and making love to him. If this was all I could have of him—all he’d ever give me—then I’d take it and be happy. He obviously didn’t agree, though, because he suddenly and abruptly shoved me off him, though making sure he stood me back on my feet.

His breathing was a little ragged, but that was the only sign of emotion he showed me.

“Get dressed and come downstairs. She’ll be here soon.”

He left, slamming the door behind him, and I sighed. I felt like whatever was happening was out of my hands, and I had little control.

As I came downstairs, dressed in the only clothes I had, the tight blue trousers and the soft shirts, I heard Drogheda’s voice, speaking in low tones in Ethan’s office. I went to the door and knocked on it softly.

“Come in,” Drogheda said brightly from within. I opened the door to find her sitting in front of Ethan, who was as his desk. She was wearing a beautiful long gown, made in a style not popular since the early 1800s. She looked very pretty, with her dark hair done up in an elaborate style.

“Drogheda, how nice to see you. You didn’t have to dress up on my account.”

“Sorry, but I’ve come from a party given by Lord Wellesley, the Duke of Wellington, at his residence. I didn’t have time to change.”

Namedropper, I thought, though I resisted saying it, with a little glance over at Ethan. Another change he had brought about—I actually stopped to think more now before I blurted out the first thing in my head. My brother Radiense would be proud of me.

Drogheda stood and came closer to me, her perfume floating over me with a strong vanilla scent, which almost all Fairies, including me, were partial to. She held out both hands to me like she’d done once before when I first met her. I knew now that she wanted to touch me. I took her hands and awaited her pronouncement.

She smiled at me after a moment and dropped my hands, turning back to Ethan. “You’re right. The curse appears to be gone, but there’s still something else. Something around him or inside him. Either a part of the curse that lingers or... I can’t quite discern what it is. Have you noticed?”

“Yes,” he replied, looking troubled. “I don’t know what it is either. The curse isn’t there that I could tell, but I’d like us both to do a cleansing of him to make sure.”

“But how did this happen so soon? It’s only been a couple of days.”

Ethan didn’t say anything, just looked down at his desk and over at the painting on the wall and at the chair in the corner. Anywhere but at me or Drogheda.

Drogheda looked back and forth between us, looking confused. “Please, tell me how this is possible. If this means Glorfindel has fallen in true love,” she said, smiling widely, “how did it happen so quickly? Who’s the lucky man?” She turned back to me, as I stood by, feeling nervous. No, not exactly nervous, but a feeling close to that. It was an awful feeling in my chest. I couldn’t say a word. I wished that what she was saying was true, but I couldn’t believe in it.

It’s the loneliest feeling in the world to be in love all by yourself. Nothing else even comes close, and I couldn’t face that again. Not with Ethan.

“Congratulations, Glorfindel. This is very fast work, I must say. But tell me. Who is it? Where did you meet him?”

The silence continued to be deafening. So much so that she turned back with curiosity and looked at Ethan with exasperation. And then she froze as it finally dawned on her, and she realized what was going on.

“Ethan!” Her voice sounded so surprised, it was a little insulting.

He stood up abruptly and began pacing by the side of his desk. “I know. I know . I’m not sure what’s happening and that’s why I need your help. It all happened so fast. But we have to be sure about this, Drogheda. It could simply be a clever spell.”

“But surely you’ve checked yourself for spells.”

“Yes, and I couldn’t find one. But maybe he’s found some way to disguise it.”

She whirled back around and glared at me. “ He did this? Glorfindel, is that true? Have you done something sinister to my grandson? Answer me quickly—I can make you tell me the truth, you know.”

She lifted a hand toward me, but before I could even flinch or try to ward her off, Ethan stepped in front of her. “No, don’t do that. I don’t want him hurt.”

She peered at him suspiciously. “That could be the spell talking. Let me handle this my way, Ethan.”

“It could be the spell, I admit,” he said, glancing back at me. “But even so. I’d rather deal with him myself.”

She lowered her hand and looked at him in amazement. “Ethan, dear. If it’s not a spell, then this could actually be true love. Are you prepared for what that means if it is?”

“What choice do I have?”

He kept his voice low, but I heard him, and I didn’t like what his words or his tone implied. He sounded so depressed about it and resigned to it. Prepared to make the best of a bad bargain, and that bargain would be me. Surprising how much that hurt, though I should have been used to it by now.

“You have the same choice as I have,” I said, putting my nose in the air. “We can both walk away. Ignore this whole thing, like it never happened. It would never work out for us anyway. We’re far too different and you don’t even like me. And now that my curse is gone—if it truly is—there’s no longer any reason for me to stay and get in your way. I can go home and find other lovers.”

He shot me a dirty look and took a menacing step closer. “No more talk of other men, Glori. Don’t even think of them. Do I make myself clear?”

I held out a hand to him in appeal. “But...think about it, Ethan. I’d drive you crazy.”

He shook his head firmly. “Not going to happen.”

“Why not?”

“Because you already drive me crazy,” he snapped at me.

Drogheda smiled, looking slightly charmed as she watched us. Her eyes even twinkled. “I think we should all calm down. Perhaps we should at least run a few simple tests on you, Ethan. And on Glorfindel. I’d need somewhere clear of all outside influences. Where’s a good place for that, dear?”

“Not anywhere around here,” Ethan said. “Not in this time. We can Timeroam, if you like. Back a few hundred years from now, so no one will disturb us.”

“Fine. Let’s do that,” Drogheda said. “Glorfindel, come over here, please, and you can go with me.”

Ethan shook his head. “No, I’ve got him.” He came over and held out his hand to me. It was such an age-old gesture. An extended hand that could mean friendship, comradery, or even just to show me the hand he held out to me wasn’t holding a weapon.

I admit I was afraid to go with him. They could take me somewhere in time and strand me there. Or they could kill me, and it could erase me in my own time. Like I never was. I looked at his hand and then back up at him. His beautiful eyes glowed down at me.

”I won’t hurt you or see harm done to you,” he said softly. “You have my promise.”

Well, what else could I do? I stepped up beside him to take his hand.

And the instant I touched him, the office we’d been standing in fell away. The air inside the illusion was just as I remembered, stygian black and thick with screams and voices shouting. There was a strong wind inside the illusion, and I pushed my face against Ethan’s chest to avoid it. Like Drogheda had done, he held me tightly, both arms wrapped around me. The wind tried to pull us apart, but Ethan wouldn’t allow it, and he pushed away any hands that fell on me. I had the same feeling of falling, but it was a controlled fall, like what I imagined flying downward would be, and we landed with another little thump. But this time there was no comforting sun shining when the darkness resolved itself.

We were standing on a dreary road, darkened by what must surely have been all of the gloomiest trees of an ancient forest. They barely stood aside to let the narrow trail creep through and then closed immediately behind it. It was all lonely and wild, and I looked around myself, wondering what might be concealed by all the wide tree trunks and the thick green boughs overhead. I could see that ahead of us the trail grew even wilder and drearier and more faintly traced until it vanished altogether. It looked to be falling dusk, and we were in a vast wilderness. It was nothing like the Fae forests, which were tame in comparison. This was the heart of darkness, and it felt tangibly dangerous and wild. The wind blew strongly through the trees, and their limbs creaked restlessly over our heads as they seemed to bend down to inspect us. From not too far away I heard the howling of a wolf.

“Where are we?”

Ethan had released me, but I was sticking close to him and holding onto his arm. He didn’t seem to mind.

“Salem, in the 1600s,” he said. “Where my store is now was once nothing but wilderness, and there should be no one around here for miles.”

Drogheda, her lovely evening gown incongruous in this wild and uncivilized place, was already gathering sticks and small pieces of wood from the side of the trail. She piled them in the middle of it and spoke a few strange words, so that a fire blazed up in front of us. Ethan waved his hand and a black witch’s cauldron appeared in the flames. I leaned over to look inside and saw it was full of water that was already bubbling inside.

Drogheda was saying a spell in a language I’d never heard before, and as soon as I heard the words, I forgot them again. Ethan joined in and they chanted their spell together. If this were the Salem Forest in the late 1600s, I wondered what would happen if one of the townspeople were out and about in the gloaming and caught us here in the woods in front of a witch’s cauldron, chanting incantations. I read a book in his store about the witch trials in Salem when I was supposed to be sweeping. I took a step closer to Ethan’s side in case one of those judges or those awful girls who accused people might suddenly appear.

Drogheda was throwing things in the water, naming each one as she cast it in. “Basil, mugwort, wormwood and hyssop. Brew my potion strong for a cup.” From another magically hidden pocket in that insubstantial dress of hers, she produced a teacup—a tiny, pink-flowered, elegant China teacup that wouldn’t have been out of place at my father’s table and had no business being part of a witch’s spell. She dipped the cup in the water and brought it over to me.

“Tell all the truth. Don’t tell it slant; destruction lies in lying. The truth will shine through and if you are true, let there be no fear of dying.”

Dying? I shrank violently away, casting Ethan a fierce and frightened look. Had they brought me here to kill me? I even turned to run, but Ethan caught me with one hand and dragged me back to him. “Glori, settle down. I’d never hurt you. Never . Don’t you believe me?”

“Not from what she just said, no, I don’t. I’m not lying about anything, but I won’t drink that!”

He took the cup himself. “I’ll go first then.” He took a big gulp of it and drank it down. “Now do you believe me?”

“I-I don’t know. This could be a trick.”

“To what point?”

“How should I know? What about what she said about dying?”

“The spell is meant to sound frightening, but it really refers to the dying of the spell or the curse, if there is one. If there is still any curse left on you, or any kind of spell, it will show up like silver etchings in your skin that will only last a few seconds and then fade. Look at my skin.”

All three of us peered down in the uncertain light as he pulled up his shirt to reveal his muscular stomach and chest. It was quickly falling night around us, the stars burning in the sky overhead like fireballs with no ambient light to fight against them, but the firelight was bright enough that we could clearly see Ethan’s skin was clear and totally unblemished.

He dipped the cup in the water again and held it out to me. “I’m under no curses and no spells. Just as I thought. Now let’s check you.”

Trembling, I took the cup from his hand and brought it to my lips. I held it there and gazed into his eyes. “Promise me. Swear to me on your life that this won’t turn me into anything bad or do me any harm.”

He gazed back at me solemnly. “I promise you. I swear it on my life.”

If he was lying to me—if he’d brought me here to kill me—well, maybe I didn’t want to know. If this went wrong, at least it would be quick and all my troubles would be over. As I still hesitated, a big spark flew up from the fire and landed on my chest, but it didn’t burn me at all. It just spread warmth and surety throughout my body. Suddenly, I knew it would be all right, and that the reassurance had come from Ethan. I nodded at him, took a deep breath and took a big sip from the cup. It tasted bitter and strange, but I didn’t start to choke or froth at the mouth right away, so I counted that as a win.

Ethan took my hand and drew me closer to the fire to lift up my shirt. No silver lines or etchings showed up anywhere on my skin. He turned to Drogheda. “The curse is gone. He’s not under any spell.”

“And neither are you. That means the love you have for each other is true.”

But something had begun rumbling deep in my stomach. I put a hand on it, and the flesh beneath my hand began to bulge and twist as something bubbled and moved like a snake under my skin. It didn’t exactly hurt, but it felt strange and scared me half to death. What was this? Had Ethan tried to kill me after all?

Ethan saw it at once though and grabbed for me, ripping off my shirt and staring down at me. “What’s happening to him, Drogheda? What is this?”

She’d been turning away but whirled back around and gasped. The skin was mottling and puckering up on my belly. Suddenly sharp pains began to shoot through me, and I bent over from the waist and began to vomit forcefully. The liquid I’d drank from the cup along with all the other contents of my stomach came pouring out of me as I fell to my knees, helpless to stop the retching. Ethan was holding onto me and Drogheda and Ethan both were pouring incantations over me, encasing me in what felt like a protective shell, hard and thick and impenetrable.

When it was finally over, Ethan gathered me close. I went willingly, because despite everything, and even if he’d done this to me, if I was dying, I wanted it to be in his arms. He leaped us both away from that horrible dark forest. We landed back in his office, and he swept everything from his desk as I swayed beside him, then laid me down on top of it on my back, my legs hanging limply off the end. I was vaguely aware that Drogheda had come with us, but soon an extreme exhaustion fell over me and everything around me was hazy and unclear. I felt desperately ill.

They both continued muttering spells over me and gradually the pain and nausea eased enough for me to attempt to sit up. My breathing was even and calmer, and the more they’d chanted, the more my body relaxed. The pain left me. Ethan pulled me up into his arms and peered down into my face. I was unresisting, my muscles having lost that desperate tension of before. Ethan pulled up my shirt to take another long look at me. His fingers skimmed over my chest and stomach, probing for the cause. The air grew thick again with more incantations as he worked, until Drogheda finally called a halt to it.

“Enough Ethan. It’s getting harder to breathe. I can’t sense the presence anymore, and you could make him ill with all that magic you’re pouring into him.”

“You sensed a presence?” I asked. “What presence?” I struggled to sit on the side of the desk and Ethan helped me, though he still had one arm firmly wrapped around my shoulders.

“There was something definitely infernal inside you,” Drogheda answered. “Dark magic or some infernal creature that had hold of you and didn’t want to let go. When you drank the potion, it reacted badly. It’s subsided for now, but I’m still not convinced it’s gone.”

“But I don’t do dark magic. I don’t, though I think King Tarrak once thought I did. He hates me now. He didn’t like it when I turned his lover over to King Stefan as a person who did Infernal magic.”

Ethan’s gaze sharpened. “King Tarrak? Of the Quendi Elves?”

“Yes.”

Drogheda frowned. “I believe your father told me Tarrak later married the one you turned in? Sergey, I believe his name was. Are you saying he does Infernal magic?”

I shrugged up one shoulder. “Yes. Necromancy, mostly, though he called on a demon once or twice too.”

“I’ve never met this Elven king Tarrak, but I’ve heard talk of him.” She turned to Ethan. “He’s powerful and dangerous to his enemies.”

“I’ve heard of him too,” Ethan answered. He looked down at me. “And you tried to have the man he loved arrested by the dark Elf King Stefan?”

“I didn’t know Tarrak loved him like that at the time. I suspected, I guess. But I did know Sergey used Infernal magic. He admitted it to me.”

“He just told you?”

“Well...there was a siege at Tarrak’s half-brother’s castle. The half-brother, Prince Adan, had kidnapped Pavel, Tarrak’s wizard and Lord Juul, Tarrak’s best friend and advisor. Anyway, Sergey managed to get inside to try and save them.”

“Why would he do something so dangerous?”

“Pavel was Sergey’s brother.” I looked up at Ethan to find him gazing steadily back at me. I made a sound of exasperation. “Okay, so that was good and brave of him, I guess, but then he promised Prince Adan and his mother the fabled sword of light if he’d let them go. To use against Tarrak.”

“I see. That must have made Tarrak angry.”

I sighed. “It did at first, but not really. Sergey did say he’d been lying to them about giving them the sword, just to gain his brother’s release. But he said he didn’t care about the lies, because he wasn’t an Elf. You know how Elves are about their honor . That did make Tarrak mad. Anyway, Tarrak sent Sergey back home under guard—back to his castle. He told him to stay there, because he was putting himself in danger.”

“What did you do?”

I made the sighing noise again, drawing it out this time and trying to sound pitiful so he’d stop questioning me and let me rest. It did no good whatsoever, and I could have saved my breath.

“I helped him escape. I knew he’d go straight to the Dokkalfar kingdom to try and find the Sword of Light, and he did. I actually went along with him to show him the way to the capitol city.”

“Why did you do that? Out of the goodness of your heart?”

“I don’t know.” Ethan was quiet as he stared at me. And stared. And stared. I held out against that look he gave me as long as I could, before I broke like a rotten twig.

“All right then! Because Tarrak was betrothed to me , not Sergey. Sergey betrayed him and was willing to lie even though he knew how the Elves felt about lying. And still, still , Tarrak wanted him more than he ever wanted me.”

Ethan nodded. “So it hurt your ego. Or were you disappointed and hurt because you were in love with Tarrak?”

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “I was jealous, but not because I loved Tarrak. I didn’t. And he certainly never loved me. I just—I just wanted someone for my own. Someone to love me.”

A little silence and then Ethan took my hand in his. “Tell me what you did.” I opened my mouth to answer. “And don’t you dare lie to me.”

I closed it again.

Moments ticked by until I caved in. “All right,” I finally said, using my tone of voice and rolling my eyes to show him the best I could how utterly unfair I thought he was being. “I drugged Sergey, and I turned him in to the authorities of the Dokkalfar kingdom as a purveyor of dark magic as soon as we arrived.”

Drogheda gasped, but Ethan kept steadily staring at me. “I see. And what did Sergey do?”

“He called on the demon Samael to help him and said some infernal incantation and set the whole place on fire! He threw a bowl at me and hurt my head. And the fire he caused blazed for days before they could get it all put out. By that time, he’d escaped and run away. But like always, he landed on his feet. Tarrak came looking for him, and together they found the cursed Sword of Light and that was that. They left, and I stayed behind with King Stefan.”

“Because Tarrak was angry with you?”

I shrugged. “I guess so. I didn’t want to go back home and face my father again.”

“You guess or you know that was the reason?”

“I know. Tarrak called me names and tried to kill me, but King Stefan saved me.”

“Explain.”

“King Stefan thought Tarrak and Sergey had conjured up the soul of the old Elven King Gratin, the one who hid the Sword of Light by Infernal means and then they forced him to tell them where it was.”

“And where did he get this idea?”

“I told him. I believed it at the time.”

“I see. And that’s when Tarrak tried to kill you?”

I nodded.

“Do you think he could be the one behind all this then?” Ethan asked. “Him and his wizard? Is this Sergey powerful enough to have sent something after you all the way here to Salem?”

“Maybe. Or him and his brother Pavel together. Pavel is a strong wizard. But I really don’t know.”

I saw Ethan look over at Drogheda. “I think I need to pay these Elves a visit.”

I gasped and turned to grab hold of his shirt. “No! Tarrak would kill you! You don’t know how fierce he is.”

Brushing off my hands and totally ignoring me otherwise, he focused instead on Drogheda, who was nodding at him, the traitor. I jumped to my feet and threw my arms around his waist. “Tarrak will kill you if you challenge him. You can’t do this! I forbid it!”

“You’ll need to prepare,” Drogheda said, likewise paying me no attention. “I can wait here until you come back, if you like. Or should I travel with you?”

“I’ll take Glorfindel with me. I can send for you if I need to. But you’re right. I do need to prepare before I go. I’ll leave in the morning.”

“Then I’ll take my leave,” Drogheda said. “Let me know how you fare.”

Once she vanished, I looked up into his eyes. “If you think I’m going to the Quendi kingdom, you’re crazy.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because they want to kill me! No! No way in hell will I ever go back there.”