The Heart of Arima. Page 9

  I opened my car door and was about to climb in when I heard a loud cawing behind me. I turned expecting to see Nerva; the white crow that belonged to Corvus but instead saw a magpie.

  One for sorrow.

  Well, wasn’t my life just full of good omens this morning? There was a flurry of wings and two jet black crows landed beside the Magpie, their intelligent black eyes watching me and making my skin crawl. I looked back at them, trying hard not to read too much into it. It was just plain creepy, that was all. It didn’t mean anything. Trying to convince myself I really believed that, I turned my back and went to get in the car when a voice rang through my head.

  Remember.

  I swung around but there was no one in sight; no one but the birds. “Shit.” I looked at them with my heart thudding dully. “Please tell me you didn’t just say that?” Three sets of black eyes regarded me passively. “Remember what?” I yelled at them. “Can’t you give me a frigging clue?” They flew up squawking and flapping, their harsh cries cutting through the peace of the morning and making my heart beat harder, and then a new sound echoed through the valley. The sound of wolves echoed through the trees and my heart calmed with their song. It was beautiful, and familiar, comforting somehow, yet there were no wolves here.

  I knew there were wolves in France but that was further south, in the Haute Alps. There were a few weres around but they would never come close to Corvus’ home without permission and something told me these were not werewolves, these were true wolves. These were mine.

  Mine?

  Was this what I was supposed to remember? The sound drifted away and I felt the loss of it and longed to hear it again.

  What the bloody hell was going on?

  I got in the car with my thoughts in turmoil and drew up outside Inés’ house without even remembering the journey there. I probably shouldn’t be driving, I was far too distracted.

  I let myself into the cottage, welcoming the warmth and the usual scents of herbs and magic that wrapped itself around me like a blanket, offering me comfort in familiarity. I drew a chair up to the fire and sat huddled beside it, shivering and miserable.

  I didn’t have to wait long before the door scraped open again and Corin came in. He smiled at me and I looked up into those golden eyes ...and I burst into tears.

  “Jéhenne!” he said in alarm, hurrying to crouch down beside me as I buried my head in my hands and wept. I felt his hands take mine away from my face, holding them gently, and I looked up to see his face filled with concern. “Whatever is the matter?”

  I shook my head, vowing I wouldn’t tell him. His eyes drifted down to my neck as he saw the new tattoo. “Oh, Jéhenne,” he said sadly, and I smacked his hands away.

  “That isn’t what I’m crying about!”

  He sighed and got to his feet, pulling a chair up beside me. “Would you like to tell me what you are crying about?”

  “No,” I sobbed.

  “Maybe I can help?”

  “No!” It would appear he’d been quite helpful enough, or was going to be. Oh, God! Is this what had happened, had I turned to him for comfort? No, surely not?

  “I can’t help you if you won’t talk to me, my dear.” His voice was soft, coaxing and I wondered what he would say if I told him.

  “I don’t want your help.” I glared at him furiously. Had he attacked me? Forced me? I looked into his eyes and knew he would never do such a thing. He might be capable of all sorts of trickery but something told me that was not something he would ever contemplate. I turned away, feeling guilty for having considered such a thing. Whatever the circumstances, I must have been willing, I couldn’t blame him alone.

  “Whatever it is, it has something to do with me, doesn’t it?”

  I cursed him mentally. He was always far too astute. Many of the fae could read people to some degree and Corin always seemed to have an idea what I was thinking. I wiped the tears from my face, refusing to look at him.

  “Are--are there any others like you?” I asked, not that it would help any but I needed to know if those eyes were common among his people, maybe I was jumping to conclusions. Not that it helped really; if I’d been unfaithful did it really matter with whom? Yes, of course it did.

  He frowned at me. “Like me, how?”

  “With eyes ...like that.”

  “Oh.” He smiled and shook his head. “No, I have often wished there were, but no. Just me I’m afraid.”

  Well then, there was little room for doubt. “Why did you wish there were others?”

  He sat back in his chair and I thought he looked tired. “Because they have been the cause of nothing but trouble.”

  “How?”

  “They are supposed to be a gift, a sign of great power and I have been feted and prepared for my fate ever since the moment they were first seen. You know, we have a lot in common. Power is often more of a burden than a blessing. You and I ... I think we are both trying to outrun our fates and I don’t know about you but I have the feeling mine is soon to catch up with me.”

  I nodded, feeling bleak and understanding exactly what he meant. “Me too,” I whispered.

  “I try so hard to ignore it, to make it go away. I drink too much, take too much time seeking pleasure rather than trying for anything with any real meaning, anything to shut it out ...just to give me a little longer. Do you understand?”

  “Yes. Oh, yes.”

  He nodded. “I knew you would.”

  I looked at him surprised as I wondered exactly what fate had in store for him. “You don’t want to be King?”

  “Being King of Alfheim?” He shrugged. “That would not be so bad but ...” He trailed off.

  “But?”

  I watched as his face closed up. “It doesn’t matter.”

  “It’s OK. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

  He leaned forward and took my hand again and this time I let him. “I have told you more than I have ever told anyone,” he admitted. “Jéhenne, I know you don’t trust me, and in all honesty you are right not to. The fae are a tricky race as you now know but, if I give you my word of honour I promise you I will keep it. You can ask anyone you choose but all know this to be true of me. I give you my word now, Jéhenne, if ever there is something you need of me, if ever I can help you in any way, I will. I would be your friend, if you will let me.”

  I tried to smile at him but I didn’t seem to be able to manage it. “I guess you can never have too many of those, huh?”

  “No, my dear.” He squeezed my hand and let it go. “Now, I don’t think you are in any fit state to begin work today. Why don’t you go and get some rest and I will come back tomorrow, we needn’t mention it to Cain.”

  I sighed with relief and nodded. “Thanks, though I don’t think I could sleep.”

  He got his feet and held out his hands to pull me to mine. “That, I can help you with.”

  I gave him a look and he chuckled. “Always so suspicious. Just a little magic. I promise to be good.”

  “Oh, fine.” Anything to give me a few hours peace, maybe then I could figure out what the hell I was going to do to calm Corvus down.

  Before I could ask him to go ahead there was a knock at the door and I looked around to see an unfamiliar face standing outside. I opened the door to see an old man. He looked like any of the old guys round here, probably a farmer. He was holding a lumpy bundle in his arms.

  “Bonjour, can I help you?”

  He hesitated. “Is Inés Corbeaux here?”

  “No, I’m sorry; she won’t be back until later,” I replied, wondering at his anxious expression. “I’m her grand-daughter ... I mean the late, Inés Corbeaux’s grand-daughter,” I clarified.

  He looked at me anxiously. “My wife ... She told me to come. She said Inés would know what to do ... Are--are you ... Um?”

  I frowned as he stumbled over his words and Corin stepped forward. “I think the gentleman would like to know if you share her talents, Jéhenne.”
r />   “Oui,” said the old man, relieved. “Exactement!”

  “Oh, I see. Yes, yes I do.”

  “Dieu merci!” His face relaxed visibly. “In that case I’ll give you this. I hope you’ll know what to do with it.” He thrust the bundle at me, which was surprisingly heavy, and began to hurry away. “We found it in the woods, we’ve been coppicing the chestnuts ... It was in a fallen tree.”

  I looked down at the bundle and flicked back the blanket it had been wrapped in, and I shrieked with alarm. The child, as that’s what it was, screamed in return and flung itself away from me, squealing and running into the cottage where it hid under the table. I had a brief glimpse of apple coloured eyes and soft green hair as it fled, and looked at Corin in shock.

  “What the bloody hell was that?”

  He raised his eyebrows at me. “Well, I think it was a girl but it moved too fast to be certain.”

  I turned around to see the farmer’s car pelting down the road at full tilt, sending gravel in all directions. It had obviously freaked the old man out just as much as me. “Now what?” I demanded of Corin but he had already gone inside. He was sitting cross legged on the floor, peering under the table.

  “Definitely a little girl.” He looked at me and grinned.

  “Yes, OK but what kind of little girl?” I got to my knees on the floor and looked under the table too, giving the child my friendliest smile. She screamed and bolted, hiding in the furthest corner of the room behind an old armchair.

  Corin sighed. “Don’t frighten her.”

  “I only smiled,” I said crossly.

  His mouth twitched but he said nothing, instead moving across the floor on his hands and knees to where he could see her. “She’s fae.”

  “Oh? She doesn’t look like an elf or a faery.”

  “No, she’s solitary fae. There are many kinds, some quite rare. She’s a tree sprite.”

  I sat down beside him and looked at the little girl who was trembling, big apple eyes looking at us fearfully. She looked to be little more than three years old. Corin began to speak to her in a strange language, it was lyrical, and very lovely, the sound of it making me quite drowsy. The little girl looked at him, fascinated.

  “What was that?” I asked, stifling a yawn.

  “The old tongue, the fae language of long ago. It’s not spoken much anymore. There is old magic in the words and even our people are wary of it now.”

  “Not you though?” I raised an eyebrow at him and he grinned.

  “It is quite safe if you have power enough to use it and care enough to tread gently. This little one understands us well enough though, I think. Don’t you, ma puce?”

  There was a brief flicker of a smile and then she hid out of sight again. Corin held up his hand and suddenly he was holding a large, shiny, black apple. He moved over a little more, to be sure the child could see him, and made a great show of polishing it up. He held the apple out to the girl, whose eyes had grown big and wide. She was practically drooling. Corin held it out to her and for a moment she hesitated, before shaking her head and folding her arms, glaring at us crossly. Corin shrugged and took a large bite. “Mmm.” The inside of the fruit was a deep red and so crisp, I felt my own mouth water. It smelled like honey and Corin took another bite, letting the sticky juice run down his chin.

  “Oh my, that is just the sweetest ebony apple I have ever tasted, here, Jéhenne, you try.” He held it out to me and I obligingly took a bite. I didn’t need to feign my reaction though; it was simply the most divine thing I’d ever tasted. “Oh my God!” I snatched his wrist back as he drew it away and took another bite and he chuckled. “Careful, Jéhenne, you are not fae, you might not like the after effects.” He conjured up another shiny black fruit and held it out again, and this time the little girl crept forward. As she went to snatch it he drew it away from her, closer to him, and little by little she got nearer, until she was sitting in his lap.

  She sat with her back against his chest, munching quite contentedly as the juice dripped down her chin and her hands, and she wiped a fair amount of it on Corin, but he didn’t seem to mind. He got to his feet, carrying her with him and sat in the chair by the fire. I went to wash my hands which were sticky too, and to fetch a clean flannel from the bathroom to clean them both up. I was stood by the bathroom cabinet when I heard him singing, softly, in the same strange and beautiful language he had spoken before. By the time I returned, she was fast asleep in his arms.

  I stood frozen in the kitchen, lookinjg at him with the strange little girl. He had covered her up with the blanket she’d been swaddled in and was stroking her hair gently. I realised there were tears streaming down my face. I wondered if that was what he would be like with my son, our son and I didn’t know what to think, what to feel. I didn’t love him, could never love him, at least, not like I loved Corvus but ... But ...

  He looked up and saw me standing there, watching them both and crying my eyes out and as his eyes met mine, I knew he knew. Not about what was to come; not specifically about the vision of a golden eyed boy but he knew what I was thinking just the same.

  I walked over and handed him the flannel. “You have juice on your chin.” He smiled and took it, wiping his face and hands carefully so as not to disturb the child. I took the sticky cloth back and turned away to throw it in the kitchen sink.

  “Come here,” he said softly. I walked over and he reached out, taking my hand. “Go to sleep, dear one.” He kissed my hand and suddenly I felt terribly drowsy, my eyelids could barely keep open and I wanted to sleep more than anything. “Sweet dreams, Jéhenne.”

  I just about managed to make it up the stairs to my old room and collapsed on the bed, wrapping the covers around me, sighing with content ...and dreaming of golden eyed babies.

  Chapter 12

  I awoke with regret, clinging to the dream as consciousness threaded through my brain. I could hear movement downstairs in the kitchen, and smell coffee and fresh baked bread. Inés was home.

  I lay there for a moment, not wanting to wake and face what reality had in store for me. The dream had been warm and comforting and so easy to believe in. I cursed Corin. Had he given me those images to dream of? It was too cruel.

  It was mid-afternoon; when night fell I would go and see Corvus again. Try to explain. Except that I couldn’t. There was no way to justify to him that I didn’t want anyone else, that I would never love anyone else ...but that I couldn’t let that child go. As hard as it was, it was the right decision; I knew it even though it broke my heart. The child was important, not just because I loved it. There was more to it than that. I didn’t know what or why but I knew I had to protect it.

  I wondered what had happened with the little apple-eyed fae girl and made myself get up out of bed. I padded down the stairs in my socks and Inés glanced up, occupied with covering the table with an assortment of bread and cheese and paté.

  “Alors, you’re awake at last, it must have been quite a session he gave you?”

  “What?”

  She looked at me quizzically. “Corin said you were worn out after training this morning so you’d gone to bed.”

  “Oh. Yes, yes I was. He’s as bad as Cain.” I didn’t look at her, I was a bad liar at the best of times but I was relieved Corin hadn’t told her that I had been upset. She’d want all the gory details.

  She looked at me with a frown but said nothing. “You slept through lunch; I thought you’d be hungry.”

  I nodded. “Thanks.” I was hungry but the thought of eating anything made my stomach roil. I sat down at the table. “Where’s Corin?”

  “He’s taken the little fae girl to find her family. Oh gods, Jéhenne, it was the cutest thing I’d ever seen, the two of them asleep together in the chair when I came in. Oh, what I wouldn’t give to have his babies.” She sighed. “You really are a damn fool, you know. He really wants you ...”

  She looked up as my chair scraped on the floor and I got to my feet. Her gaze fell on the flames at
my fingers that flickered up around my wrists, and then up to the tattoo around my neck, and her eyes went wide.

  “You did it,” she whispered. She shook her head and smiled sadly. “I’m sorry, Jéhenne, I didn’t realise. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

  “Forget it.” I went and retrieved my boots and pulled them on, my fingers fumbling with the laces.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Out.”

  “Jéhenne, if you don’t mind me saying, you don’t seem very happy. Shouldn’t this be the honeymoon period or something? You’re not ... regretting it, already?”

  “No.” I gritted my teeth. I would not get into this with her.

  She frowned and got to her feet. “Did he do something? Nina, did he hurt you?” She crossed the room and lifted the hair from my neck and I smacked her hand away. “Jéhenne, if he hurt you I swear to the gods I’ll stake him before he wakes tonight.”

  “He didn’t do anything, he didn’t hurt me,” I pulled on my coat and swallowed. “It was the other way around,” I said, fighting back tears. She grabbed hold of my arm before I could leave.

  “Won’t you tell me what’s wrong, Cherie?” I looked to see her eyes were filled with genuine concern, a rarity from Inés, and for a moment I hesitated. But if I told her, she would push for me to be with Corin and I couldn’t handle that, so I shook my head.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  I walked out, leaving her perplexed, and got in my car. There was no point in going to the Chateau yet, Corvus wouldn’t wake for a while and my stomach turned, fear rippling through me as I wondered what he would say to me when I went back. I couldn’t just leave things as they were though. We had to talk, to find a way through this, but what was I going to say? I will love you for eternity but I still want to have another man’s child? It’s OK though because it probably won’t be for a while yet ...

  Somehow I didn’t think that was going to placate him.

  I drove back down the little chemin that led to the cottage with no real idea of what to do next, and turned the car towards Rodney’s house.