Storm Crossed (The Grim Series Book 4), page 27
“I know, I know. Ranyon warned me.” And then disappeared. Despite the shared success of teaching Fox to produce light in his hands, the little ellyll hadn’t been back to her home since. It could just be that he wanted to spend time with his dear friend, Leo, now that the old man’s grandkids had finished their visit. Yet Lissy had the distinct impression it was simply too upsetting for Ranyon to see her with Trahern. And that was when I’d only kissed him . . .
Brooke sat down again and took Lissy’s hands across the table. “Can you blame us? We love you, and we don’t want anything to happen to you. And we really don’t want you to get your heart broken.”
“If I dated a nice normal human banker or a doctor or a construction worker or even another geologist, I could still get my heart broken. There aren’t any guarantees in relationships. Do you want me to date Vincente so my heart will be safe?” The thought alone nearly made her gag.
“Goddess, no! You’d really be crazy then!”
“Well, at least we’re on the same page about that.” Lissy took her hands back and placed them in her lap so she could fiddle with the hem of her blouse. “You’re my best friend. I was hoping I could confide in you because I really need to talk to someone.”
Brooke’s demeanor changed completely. “Oh, honey, I’m sorry I gave you the third degree—”
“Hey, it was better than the fifth degree that Ranyon gave me.” They laughed a little, and the tension eased.
“Honest, I think my hormones are in overdrive with the baby and all.” Brooke looked amazingly guilty for a moment. “I chewed out Aidan yesterday for not stacking the dishes in the sink just right. Lissy, you know that I don’t even care about things like that, but bang, I went from zero to sixty on the angry scale. And then I started bawling for yelling at him. I’m lucky he’s so patient.”
“And thick-skinned.”
“That, too. Let me guess, this thing with Trahern started out as some kind of summer fling, and now it’s something else?”
She nodded. “I thought it was just practice, like training wheels or something while I got my mojo back. But there’s this connection that I felt from the first time I met him. I mean, at Palouse Falls I was so mad at him I almost punched him, yet there was still this funny feeling of familiarity. I chalked it up to infatuation at first, but the more I’ve thought about it and analyzed it, it’s not chemistry at all, it’s recognition. As if I’ve known him for a very long time, so long that we’re at ease with each other, that we understand each other.” Her friend nodded, and Lissy continued. “Like I said, I don’t expect anything. I know he’s probably going to walk away the moment he figures his obligation to Fox has been fulfilled, but . . . ”
“But your heart has already run ahead of you.” Brooke’s voice was softer now, the healer in her coming to the forefront. “Did you ever think it might be right?”
“What?”
“No, really. You claim you don’t have magic, but you’ve always had amazing instincts, gut feelings about things. Forget about the stupid lecture I gave you. Maybe you need to listen to your own intuition on this one.” Brooke riffled through the stack of tarot decks she’d just priced and pulled out a leafy green box titled FAERIE ENCHANTMENT. “I think it’s a good time for a card.”
“You want to do a reading?”
“Not exactly. Remember what your mother taught us about using the tarot during stressful times?”
It came to her at once. “Mama always said that a single card could sometimes give more focused guidance, like an entire reading condensed into one image.”
Brooke handed her the box.
The clear plastic wrapping came away in Lissy’s hand. She took a moment to handle the cards, running each through her fingers and finally pressing the deck to her chest to make sure it connected with her energy, her aura, her essence. She shuffled and drew.
Knight of Wands.
As lithe and powerful as a jaguar, the faery knight sat comfortably astride a rearing stallion that boasted strange horns and clawed hooves. In his hand was a wand—not a magician’s pocket-size instrument but a tall wooden staff topped with a fiery globe—and he wielded it like a weapon. His long hair flew wild, the icy color of frost despite his youthful face. That face. With features that better belonged to an angel, his eyes stared out from the card with lifelike intensity—
The touch of Brooke’s hand on her arm brought Lissy back to herself. Shakily, she placed the card back in the deck and put it aside. “Okay, no question who that represents. Now what does it mean?”
“The Knight of Wands can bring many things.” Her friend’s face was solemn. “In other types of readings, we’re usually talking about change—travel, new opportunities, new challenges—but whatever change he’s got for you, it happens fast.”
There’s an understatement. Trahern’s abrupt appearance had heralded a ton of sudden changes in her life. “But?”
“In this context, it can also be very literal, as in a man has come into your life. It can even mean love.”
“Should I be reassured or worried? Is it real? This isn’t like a hit-and-run thing, is it?”
“The relationship? I just don’t know. It’s a positive card in any reading but not one for preserving the status quo—it often turns things upside down. All I can say is that it kinda looks like Trahern is supposed to be in your life right now. Not Fox’s life, mind you. This card is strictly for you.”
Just for me, she thought. But I don’t know why . . .
TWENTY-FIVE
By all the stars, it should have gone well.
Trahern had planned carefully for the morning’s lesson. With Fox advancing in leaps and bounds with energy manipulation, surely he might be ready for an introduction to plant lore. Trahern had taken Lissy’s suggestion and created a set of vivid illustrations that would function as flash cards. The backyard had been seeded with select specimens that would grow and bloom before Fox’s eyes. Colorful stones filled Trahern’s pockets, motivation for effort and rewards for achievement. And when Brooke came by to invite Lissy to shop, he urged her to go, assuring her that he would take excellent care of her son.
Instead, Fox now thrashed on the ground, wailing like a lost soul. Cards and stones littered the yard as if they had hailed down from the skies.
Next to him, Braith lay motionless with his great head slumped on his large paws. He whined softly, but Fox didn’t seem to know he was there, and certainly Trahern’s own efforts to speak to him had been ineffective. The child was clearly in a state where he could not hear or make sense of their words. Overstimulation? He didn’t know. As he had in the living room that first night, he whispered the words of the spell that would create a bubble of serenity around Fox. A few moments later, as if it took time for the boy to realize he was no longer being assaulted by sensation, the wailing devolved into small hiccupping sobs. Quieter. But he does not seem eased . . .
Kneeling on the grass beside Fox, he noticed for the first time that the child’s face was flushed, and beads of sweat made the blond hair stick to his temples, though the air was cool. He didn’t get to form another thought before Fox rolled over with a strangled heaving noise—
And vomited all over him.
Lissy came in the front door and kicked off her shoes gratefully as she set her purse on the shelf. Before she forgot, she hung her keys on the hook—then allowed herself a hearty sigh. “Talk about shopping till you drop! It was fun, though. There are so many more cool things on the market for babies now than when Fox was born.”
Brooke had already flopped on the sofa, with newly bare feet propped up on the old ottoman. “I just wish I could make up my mind about what color to paint the nursery. I want something unique and fresh and happy. Pastels just don’t say any of those things to me. And don’t get me started on neutrals! Well, except maybe that crisp, cool gray . . . ”
“It looked really good with the turquoise accents,” agreed Lissy. “We should go to the building store together, see if we can find that shade.”
“So far I’ve been avoiding the paint department. I just can’t deal with the sea of paint chips.”
Yeah, it does sound kind of overwhelming. “What if we skipped the chips and went straight to the little jars of samples. I’ll bet we could narrow it down to four or five in less than half an hour and start painting swatches on the walls. If none of them do it for you, we’ll get five more the day after.”
“That’s a really good idea. You just made an onerous task sound totally doable.”
Lissy laughed. “It’s what I do. Everything in my whole life has to be broken down into little steps to keep Fox on an even keel. Want some tea?”
“Sure. Where are the guys?”
“Probably in the backyard still. That’s where Trahern holds most of his lessons.” In the kitchen, she filled the teakettle and plugged it in, then leaned over the sink and pushed aside the curtains to look. Nobody. Just in case, she went out on the back porch. No one was in the yard, but there seemed to be a lot of papers scattered around . . . That’s weird. Fox liked order, so he didn’t usually make much of a mess. He’s got to be the only nine-year-old boy with a perpetually tidy room. But she sure couldn’t imagine Trahern leaving a trail of debris.
Unless something was wrong. It wouldn’t be unusual for Fox to decide he wanted to hang out in his favorite sanctuary with all his favorite things instead of cooperating with his teacher. She made the tea and took a cup to Brooke. “I’m just going upstairs for a minute.”
As she approached Fox’s room, she heard Trahern’s voice asking a question.
“What does the dragon do when he’s tired?”
“He sleeps,” answered Fox.
“When the dragon is angry?”
“He breathes.”
“And how does he breathe?”
“Deep and slow. Deep and slow.” Fox demonstrated noisily.
“Very good. What does he do when he’s restless?”
“He walks.”
She stopped dead in the doorway. It was midafternoon, but Fox was in bed with the covers drawn up to his chin. Beside him, Trahern’s tall form sat, or rather perched, on the child-size chair from Fox’s desk. And Braith’s great gray bulk seemed to sprawl over the entire floor. “Omigosh, what happened?”
“I threw up,” said Fox, almost cheerfully.
“I’m sorry to hear that, sweetie. Are you okay now?” she asked, but in her mind, she spoke to Trahern. Are you okay?
Why would I not be well? Fox is the one who was ill.
Because . . . She scrambled for the right words. Because dealing with sick children is difficult. And it can get messy.
True, and it was. Very. But magic helps a great deal in such situations.
You just poofed away the mess, didn’t you? Speaking for all moms everywhere, I officially hate you.
A jest?
Maybe. But whatever his methods, he’d dealt with the situation. He’d looked after Fox, and both had survived. Once again, Trahern had surprised her.
“Trahern gave me a cool dragon!” Fox waved his arm at her, and she stepped over the obstacle course that was mostly dog to get to him. The image of a blue baby dragon curled playfully around his wrist, its stubby little wings and too-big yellow eyes making it utterly adorable.
“Wow, that’s really, really nice.”
“His name is Jake.”
“Like Aunt Tina’s dog?”
“Jake’s my friend. And the dragon’s my friend,” he said simply. “So now I can have two Jakes!”
The reasoning was a bit of a mystery, but if it made sense to Fox, so be it. “I’m sure Aunt Tina’s Jake will be very proud to have a dragon named after him.” And a lot of her friends, including Tina, would get a kick out of it, considering the dachshund’s cranky temperament. She squinted at the image. Was that paint? Ink? “This’ll wash off, won’t it?” Jeez, I sound like such a mom! “Or wear off?” But it sure didn’t look promising, and even more damning was the fact that no one answered her question.
“I can talk to it, too,” offered Fox.
“That sounds like fun. I’m going to get you some ginger ale for your tummy, okay? You just rest until you feel ready to get up,” she said out loud. Her thoughts were a whole lot louder and directed at Trahern. A tat? You gave my kid a tattoo? Do you know what the school will do when they see this? Do you know what Child Protective Services is?
She tried to stay calm as she headed downstairs, but Brooke looked up from her mug immediately. “What happened? What’s wrong?”
Lissy dropped into a chair with her head in her hands. “I’m going to prison, that’s what’s wrong.”
“You are unhappy about what I have done.” Trahern descended the staircase and entered the living room. With a nod to Brooke, he sat directly across from Lissy. “My gift to Fox today is not what you think.”
“Just tell me it comes off, and I’ll be fine,” said Lissy, though she felt anything but fine.
“Hear me first.” He leaned forward, capturing her gaze and holding it. “Do you know when you are ill? Or tired? Or hungry?”
Lissy frowned. “Yes, of course I do. What does that have to do with—”
“Fox does not know these things about himself—at least, not immediately. Instead, he is uncomfortable without understanding why, and the discomfort builds until he cannot bear it and loses control.”
“Omigod, he had a meltdown, didn’t he?” She could feel the blood leaching away from her face. “He threw up and he had a meltdown. And you’re still here.”
He reached out and took both of her hands in his. “Where else would I be?”
“Trust me, most people would have run screaming down the street.”
“There was already enough screaming. My own screams were unnecessary.”
Brooke snorted, nearly spilling her tea. Lissy simply stared at Trahern as if seeing him for the first time.
“I searched for something that might be assailing his senses, but all was quiet and calm,” he continued. “Nor had I urged him beyond his bounds. Plainly, something else was amiss.”
“This is my fault. He took a long time to eat his breakfast this morning,” said Lissy, pulling her hands from his so she could sit back. “And then he didn’t finish half of it. I should have thought he might be sick.”
“But Lissy, honey, he didn’t act sick, and he couldn’t tell you that he didn’t feel well,” Brooke said. “You always have to guess.”
“I believe that even Braith has to guess,” added Trahern. “He would only know what Fox is able to tell him.”
“See?” Brooke seemed excited now. “That’s precisely the biggest problem we have in a nutshell. And so what you said before makes an amazing amount of sense, right, Lissy?”
“That Fox gets overwhelmed because he lacks awareness about himself . . . ” Not only did it make sense; it would account for an awful lot.
“And that is why I placed an anifail un drych on his arm,” Trahern explained. “In your language, it is something like mirror animal. I chose a dragon for Fox. It is young like he is, and it will reflect his own condition at all times.”
“Wait a minute. You’re telling me that the tattoo—I mean, the picture—changes?”
“That is its purpose. And as you once told me, Fox has a compassionate heart. Because of this, I do not doubt that he will care for the dragon’s needs, and in so doing, care for his own. If the dragon is ill, he may not know how to help it—but I believe he would seek help for the creature by asking one of us.”
“Okay, my mind is officially boggled,” said Brooke.
Mine, too, thought Lissy. “Does Fox grasp this lofty concept?”
“He will come to understand it better over time. For now, the dragon is simply his companion. If it is hungry, he must feed himself to get food to it. If the dragon is tired, the boy must sleep to replenish him.”
Brooke no longer reclined on the sofa but practically bounced on the edge of it in her excitement. “Holy cow, it’s like those virtual pets we had as kids!”
“Sounds like it.” Lissy considered. “Maybe it could even be a Fox barometer. Because I can look at the dragon, too, right?”
“You can guess at your son’s state by what the dragon is doing. But Fox will know its nuances far more intimately. And he will respond.”
Lissy held up her hands, palms out. “Whoa, I’m not so sure about that part of the equation. When my son is zoned out playing video games or absorbed in his rock collection, he’s not going to remember to look at a picture on his arm.”
Trahern was silent for a long moment, as if considering his words. “Fox cannot ignore it because it is not a picture,” he said at last.
“Okay, it’s a magical picture,” she amended, but he shook his head.
“The dragon is very much alive.”
Alive? Shock gave way to action. Lissy gathered herself and stood, grabbing her best friend’s hand and pulling her to her feet. “Come on, we’re going upstairs.” She glanced at Trahern as she hurried by with Brooke in tow. “You too, mister.”
There wasn’t a lot of room for three adults to crowd into Fox’s bedroom, even when Braith somehow became incorporeal so they could walk through him. It was even harder to do it quietly, since Fox was asleep, and no one wanted to disturb him, least of all Lissy. Fortunately, his left arm was still lying on top of the blanket, the not a picture fully visible.
Brooke’s voice was hushed—and awed. “You didn’t tell me it was cute!” It was. But it had changed. A lot.
The baby dragon’s eyes were closed. No longer wrapped around the boy’s wrist but coiled in a bright-blue ball near the inside of his elbow, its little body rose up and down ever so slightly—
You are doubting your sight. Trahern’s voice was gentle in her head, and his hands on her shoulders drew her back against him.
It’s moving. It’s breathing!
Yes. And you need to breathe, too.
Lissy hadn’t even realized she’d been holding her breath. She sucked in air abruptly, noisily, and clapped her hand over her face to muffle it.
