Desire, page 5
“Yes, my king.”
Eero turned away. “You have one week.”
Chapter6
Tom
Tomas Frewen bent over some papers, pen between his fingers, mind focused on the task at hand. The curtains were closed behind him, only the table lamp gave light in the room. The aroma of lavender and mint still lingered in the air from a relaxing candle he’d lit, but it was burned to a stump.
He put aside the contract for later to read with a fresh brain and looked at the last page for the night. A marriage request. Just one more signature and he’d catch some sleep.
Stretching, Tom was ready to head to bed when someone knocked on his door, making him wonder who was awake at this hour.
“It’s open,” Tom said.
“Tom, a man is here from…” Tish, his sister, stepped inside. “What the…” She sighed. “Tom, were you up all night?”
He looked up, confused. “What time is it?”
Tish shook her head, walking towards the windows. The clothes she wore definitely weren’t the same as during dinner. Long skirt, and a blouse. Definitely wasn’t her nightgown, either.
She opened the curtains and Tom squinted from the sudden light in the room.
“It’s seven in the morning, Tom,” she said. “Were you up all night again?”
He rubbed his eyes. “Looks like it.”
Tish smiled at him, like a mother smiles at her child. “Now you have ink on your face.”
Tom looked at his left hand; it was covered with blue ink from his pen or from the paper.
He grinned at her. “It just makes me even sexier.”
Tish chuckled. “Now that you’re all sexy, go take a shower. You stink. I’ll make an energy potion for you.”
“Why don’t you bring me some coffee instead? That potion tastes like ginger. I hate ginger.”
“Because, after another all-nighter, caffeine won’t be enough. Plus, you have two meetings today.”
Tom growled and stood. “Fine. Whatever you want.” He hugged her tightly. “Thanks.”
He opened the door to his bedroom, stepped over a pile of clothes, grabbed his towel from the back of a chair, and headed into his bathroom.
Tish was four years older than he but, ever since their parents’ death, she’d taken care of him. And he was thankful for it. She wanted to help him more with his job, but those were his duties. The witches had elected him as their leader. He had to lead them, even though he barely had time to do anything else. Not that he wanted to do anything else. He was fine with work. He loved teaching, he could do the paperwork and the organization. He even had time every day to go out and practice. Archery. That was his love. The one and only. He didn’t need anyone in his life to shatter his heart into a million pieces again.
A bow and arrow would never do that. It wouldn’t walk out with another man like Jeremy had. A bow and arrow would never need more than Tom could give. And it most certainly wouldn’t fail him when he needed it the most. Sure, it didn’t warm his bed, or ease his worries, but at least he could rely on it. With a bow, he got exactly what he signed up for, nothing more and nothing less.
Once clean and a bit freshened, he wrapped the towel around his hips and went to find some clean clothes. He didn’t bother opening his closet; only his gear, a suit, and a few clothes he hated were in there. A pile of more or less folded clothes on his armchair was where his clean clothes were. The ones on the floor were the dirty ones.
Digging through the heap, he found some underwear, pants, and a shirt. Perfect for the day.
“You look like someone chewed on you,” Tish said when he joined her again.
Tom shrugged and made a useless effort to get rid of the wrinkles. “It’s a style choice.”
Tish shook her head. “You’re hopeless. Here.” She handed him the potion. “Please tell me you have a clean shirt that doesn’t look like…” She gestured at him again. “This.”
Tom downed the potion, grimaced and handed the glass to Tish. “This was awful.”
“I put honey in it just for you,” Tish said. “Your shirt.”
“I hate honey,” he muttered.
Since Tish still looked at him with narrowed eyes and her hands were on her hips, Tom reached for energy around him, filling the channels of his body with magic. It flickered through his body and he felt connected to his surroundings, to nature. Just for good manners, he muttered a spell; but with his powers he didn’t need to. He was just used to it to keep up appearances.
The spell he cast was just a simple spell, one he’d done every day to smooth out his clothing. Yellow light ran through the shirt as he touched it and the wrinkles were gone.
He let go of the power inside him. “Are you happy now?”
Tish sighed. “You know, these little tricks will put you in an early grave.”
Tom shrugged. He didn’t have a death wish, but he didn’t care that much, either. Using magic as a witch could lead to serious overload, or to death. Small tricks like that, with his bloodline and heritage, wasn’t something that would kill him. For some reason, he inherited Madelyn’s magic, and not Tish. She was powerful, sure, but the power he possessed was one in a generation, making his life miserable and fun at the same time.
Twisting the ancient silver ring on his right index finger, Tom walked to his door. “Where is this man?”
As soon as he opened the door, he found himself in front of a dark-skinned, grinning man. He took Tom’s hand with both of his and shook it zealously, his dreadlocks moving with the movement.
“It’s an honor to meet you, sir. Your bloodline is famous even as far as I live.” He kept shaking Tom’s hand. “I’m Kubarl Joseph and being in the presence of the descendant of—”
“It’s great,” Tom cut him off and freed his hand. The fact that some of the tribes in Ofrinia still followed the Cloven bloodline wasn’t good news. If Eero found out who he was… Tom pushed the thought aside. Eero couldn’t find it out.
“Let’s not make a big deal out of it. How can I help you?”
“Dorian, this man knows about Madelyn’s bloodline. You need to lock his memories.” Tom sent his thoughts to him to deal with the issue.
Feeling awkward just standing in the door, Tom gestured inside his living room. “Let’s get comfortable and you can tell me why you made such a trip just to talk to me.”
“Alana can do it.” The answer rang in Tom’s mind. “I’ll tell her.”
Tom nodded, still smiling at Kubarl. “If you’re sure she won’t fry his brain.”
Dorian’s reply was a mental snort. It always amused Tom how he could do such a thing. He had never gotten a response like that from the others.
“Please, sit.” Tom gestured at the sofa in the middle. “I’m sure if we ask kindly, Tish will bring us some coffee.” He grinned at his sister.
Tish sighed, but went to bring them coffee.
Tom settled in one of the armchairs and followed the restless man with his eyes as he observed everything in his living room.
“You have quite a collection, Mr. Frewen.”
Kubarl stood in front of a bookshelf, gazing at the books on magic. He took a step to the right, in front of the shelves where Tom kept his supplies; herbs, powders, bones, dried bugs. Everything he needed to make potions or cast spells. Unlike his clothes and personal items, his magical supplies were in perfect order.
When Kubarl’s hand reached for a purple crystal, Tom jumped up and quickly moved next to him. He grabbed his wrist.
“That shouldn’t be touched.”
The rough, fist sized crystal was part of a complicated spell, protecting his room from invaders. Similar crystals were placed seemingly randomly all over the room; on his desk, in the widow, on other shelves. The minerals anchored the spell, their sheer energy feeding it to last longer and not drain Tom’s life.
Kubarl looked around, his dark brown eyes gleaming from magic, noticing the other crystals, and he slowly nodded. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize.” He chuckled. “I should’ve known a powerful leader like yourself had some kind of protection.”
Tom rolled his eyes, tiredness shimmering through him despite the potion Tish had given him. Just what he needed. A crazy admirer.
“Please, sit, and tell me why you’re here.” He finally took the time to register the man’s clothing. The thick fur coat on his shoulders, the need for them on a warm spring day placed him in south Ofrinia, in the deserts. “I’m interested in why a spiritual leader of a tribe would come this north.”
Tish came back with a tray filled with coffee and sandwiches.
Tom smiled. “Thank you. I love you.”
The moment Tish put down the tray, he reached for a sandwich, his stomach growling just from the sight of the food.
Tish laughed. “I know you do.” She nodded to the men. “Let me know if you need anything else.”
When the door closed behind her, Kubarl finally sat, although he was still restless.
He cleared his throat. “Magic is changing.”
Tom waited for him to continue, but Kubarl just stared at him. “I’m aware.”
“Demons are more active.”
Another pause.
“Yes. I know.” They had noticed the changes too. More and more animal-demon attacks had been reported all over the country, and the humanoids were more active too, causing troubles in the cities.
“And a solar eclipse is coming.”
Tom frowned. He had a strong feeling where this conversation was going. Superstitious fool. “I’m aware. But that won’t happen until next spring.”
Kubarl rubbed his neck, dragging Tom’s attention to the light bruises on it.
“I’d like you to provide me with a copy of the Donovan prophecy. I know it’s different in all three countries and I’d like to compare them.”
Tom tilted his head and pointed at Kubarl’s neck with the sandwich. “I assume Eero Whitestone said no.”
Kubarl shifted and licked his lower lip, looking at Tom pleadingly.
Tom sighed and sipped his coffee. “We have it somewhere in the library. Feel free to copy it.”
He didn’t care about the prophecies; they were ancient. Many solar eclipses had passed since then, and Donovan hadn’t been resurrected. The Blue Moon was nothing more than a legend, a tale to scare young magical children with an horrific story.
Kubarl swallowed. “I’m afraid I can’t do that. My train leaves this afternoon.”
Tom held back a painful moan. “I’ll get it copied and send it to you. Do you have a magical mailing pot?”
The man nodded, his head bobbing like a ball. “Yes. Adra Desert, Kasleya Tribe.”
Tom went to his desk and wrote down the information. He couldn’t recall the name, and his mother had made him learn about all the tribes in Ofrinia. The Adra desert was the last one before the Empty Lands. It had probably taken weeks for this man to come here.
Tom turned back to Kubarl. “Let me know if I can provide you with anything else before you leave.”
“Nothing else. Thank you, Mr. Frewen.” Kubarl stood, his coffee untouched.
“Alana, the man is about to leave.” Tom notified her from the stairs, walking as slow as he could to give her time to catch up.
They were already in the main hall when Alana showed up and asked Kubarl to join her for a short time the salon.
Tom turned towards the stairs to finish his breakfast when the front door opened and an elderly woman walked in.
“Eliza!” Tom smiled and hugged her. “It’s nice to see you. I’m glad you could come. I was worried your health wouldn’t allow you to travel.”
The elderly woman returned his hug, showing much more strength than her fragile frame suggested. “I’m afraid I’ve come with troubling news, Tomas.”
Tom’s smile melted away. “Tell me everything. I’ll make some tea.”
He led Eliza upstairs into the kitchen he shared with Alana and Tish, their living quarters next to each other, and put on a kettle with water.
“You look tired, son,” she said, breathing heavily from climbing the stairs. “And you look skinny. Do you eat enough?”
Tom chuckled. “I’m not skinnier than I’ve been, and I’m eating enough.”
Eliza’s appearance warmed his heart. He was glad she could make it to the Council Meeting since she missed the previous one due to health issues. She was like a grandmother to him. When she’d been in her full power, she’d had summer camps near the lake just for witches. And those summers had been the best in his childhood. It wasn’t just how much he had learned from her, but how free he had felt in Nesael. The small town near the border was surrounded by forests, the lake was only visited by locals. It had given them enough space to practice magic freely, without worrying about being seen.
The kettle whistled and Tom poured the water into mugs.
Settling at the dining table, he asked, “Why are you so worried?”
Eliza sighed and stared into her tea for many heartbeats before she lifted her eyes to meet Tom’s. “Nesael is in trouble, Tomas. Magical waves are coming off the portal. Bear-demons were spotted.” She sighed. “With half of our fighters at the borderlands we can’t keep civilians unaware for long.”
Tom reached out and caressed her hand. “Don’t worry. I’ll talk to Lilian and we’ll organize a team.” He smiled. “I’ll go myself to protect your town.”
Some life returned to her eyes. “We’ll need a telepath too.”
“I’ll get one.”
“Dear Lilian has the most experience in long-term memory changing.”
Tom nodded. “I’ll talk her into coming with me. How many of us do you need?” Tom pressed his lips together, hoping that three or four of them would be enough. Right now, they couldn’t send more people to a location.
She sipped her tea. “It’s just an angry bear-demon or two, and a couple of lynx-demons. I don’t think a large group is needed.”
“We’ll go with you tomorrow.”
Tom stood when the ringing of the school bell disturbed the peace and said goodbye to Eliza.
One class flowed into the other; students approached him during the breaks, with questions or requests. By the time he managed to send a mental request to Lili about an emergency leader meeting, it was already lunch time, so it didn’t surprise him that she wasn’t available until after dinner.
The rest of the day flew away, with Tom only stopping for a quick lunch, just a mozzarella and tomato sandwich, but it was enough for him to go through the afternoon.
By the time of the meeting, Tom was ready to fall asleep in the wooden chair that wasn’t at all comfortable, or designed to sleep in. If he wanted to be honest, it was designed to make asses ache. Due to the last minute notice, two of the leaders were absent, but thankfully, they didn’t need everyone to make this decision.
He summarized what Eliza had said, and Lili volunteered to go.
“I don’t know if it’s a good idea for you to go, Aunt Lili.” Dorian smiled at the Headmistress. “Let me go.”
She shook her head and waved. “I’ll be fine, Dorian. This is just a minor mission in Nesael. And Declan will keep me safe.”
Declan raised an eyebrow. “I’m going? Again?”
Dorian shook his head. “And what about your responsibilities here? Let me go.”
“You have to learn how to run the Institute, and how to deal with politics. You’re staying,” Lili said.
Dorian opened his mouth, but closed it and crossed his arms. Even though Lili had lost some of her strength over the years, there weren’t many people who dared to argue with her.
Lili turned her attention back to Declan. “We’re short on healers. It’s either you or Alana.”
Alana opened her mouth, but Declan was faster. “Then I’ll go.”
A smile tugged at Tom’s lips at the way Alana crossed her arms and gave an angry look at her father, even though that was probably the better option right after one of her episodes.
“I’m going too,” Tom said.
“This would be your fourth mission in a row.” Declan narrowed his eyes.
“Fifth,” Tom corrected. “But as their leader, I assign the witches to their missions. So, I’m going.”
“Tom, you’re twenty-seven. You have to rest, and you have to have a little fun in your life,” Declan said.
Ever since Tom’s parents had died, Declan tried to guide him, tried to be there for him as much as he could. As much as Tom let him. There was some truth to his words, but Tom didn’t have time to worry about his love life. He had a few men he slept with occasionally, but nothing serious.
“I’ll have fun when I have time.”
“When was the last time you were out on a date?” Declan pushed on with the topic.
Tom grinned. “Two weeks ago.” He frowned. “Wait, actually it was a month ago.”
Declan shook his head. “I meant real date, Tom, not one of your hook ups.”
He shifted in his chair, his posture defensive. “When was the last time you were out on a date? Thirty years ago? I’ll go on a real date when you do.”
“Very funny.” Declan sighed. “Still. I think you should stay.”
Tom answered with a half-shrug. “You can’t stop me.”
“Okay, that’s enough,” Lili said. “I’m going with Declan and Tom. Dorian, you’re going to organize the patrols in Aldness.” She lifted her gaze to Alana. “I’d like you to help him with the teachers’ schedule. With the three of us going, you’ll have to juggle a little.”
“Of course.” Alana nodded, giving a shy smile to Dorian.
Tom rolled his eyes at that, then stood. “Then it’s time to go to bed. We’ll leave tomorrow.”
Chapter 8
Kylan
Kylan rocked his chair, his fingers knocking on the armrest. Next to his desk, the wall was covered with plans, sketches, names, dates, and maps. Some were written with a typewriter, some were handwritten. It reached up to the ceiling and down to the floor. Two years of work and planning with his father—based on his ideas—and soon, it would turn into action. But something didn’t pan out. Something was missing. He could feel it in his bones.
