Page 61 of A Tale of Mirth & Magic

Her eyes finally snapped to mine. Relief in them, strangely, but happiness blooming as well.

“You like it?” she asked. “I used that lump of silver that I gave you to make the pendant. May have snuck it out of your pocket while you were sleeping. I wanted it to be a surprise.”

“I love it,” I said, bending forward to say it again with a kiss. “El, I love it so much.” And I love you, is what I wanted to tell her. Instead, I asked, “Why did you make this for me?”

“I just… I wanted you to have some part of me. And to keep you safe,” Elikki said. “I want you to know you mean a great deal to me.” She lifted the chain up and over my head. The pendant settled, a reassuring weight against my bare chest.

My heart squeezed. “Are you leaving, then?”

“No,” she said, gripping my shoulders. “No. But it’s only a matter of time, isn’t it?”

I wanted to say, It doesn’t have to be. We could stay together. Make a life together.

But Elikki kissed me fiercely, and I let her.

Her kisses tasted like let’s not waste time and this is what I can give you. She met my mouth with hunger. The pendant pressed between us, metal warming from our heat. I made myself focus on the feel of her soft lips, her hair wisping against my cheeks. Her smooth full body, my hands filled with her, and the sweat forming between us. The pleasure we were about to have together, again and again and again.

21

ELIKKI

When we were finally sated and breathless, having tried a couple of new, slightly acrobatic positions, Barra and I readied ourselves for supper.

“So, I guess it’s safe to say you really do love my gift,” I teased with a coy smile as I rebuttoned my skirts. “Three orgasms is quite a show of appreciation.”

Barra stalked over to me, smoothed down my tousled hair, and tucked a lock gently behind an ear. “It could have been four if that nightstand hadn’t given out on us.” He bent and kissed the tip of my nose.

“Ahh, yes… we should probably pay for the damages. And get a sturdier replacement so we can try that move again.”

“Agreed,” he rumbled, straightening his shirt and overcoat. An uncertain, thoughtful look came into his eyes. But he turned away, righting a potted plant we’d knocked over.

“What is it? I’m not paying for the nightstand, if that’s what you’re thinking,” I said with a laugh.

He fussed with the dirt that had spilled out, sweeping it into his palm and returning it to the pot. “It’s nothing,” he said, “Let’s get some supper.”

“Barra—” I came closer, concerned now. “Tell me?”

He turned, swallowing. “I was thinking,” he said, then hesitated again. Looking down at me, he brought his hand to where my pendant rested on his broad chest. He took a breath, then said, “I was thinking that I have a very sturdy nightstand in my bedroom at home.”

I stilled.

“If you wanted to—to visit. You could stay as long as you wanted. And my mas, my sisters, they’ll all love you, I know it—”

“Barra. Stop.” My voice was quiet but sharp as an icicle.

His mouth snapped shut. Hurt reflected at me from those smoky quartz eyes.

I crossed the room to where my cider sat, long forgotten. It had gone warm in the past hours, but I chugged down every drop. Wiped the back of a hand across my mouth. Buckling on the worn brown leather belt that carried my coin purse and favorite knife, I moved back to Barra and took his hand.

“Let’s go eat, okay?” I tugged him gently toward the door.

For a panicked second, I thought he would refuse. But he simply gave a small sigh that stung my heart and let me lead him stiffly out, down the staircase, and through the crowded inn tavern to the fresh air of the street below.

I linked an arm with his, and we wandered downhill, following the curve of golden magelights deeper into the thick of Rising Night revelry. I waited until we came to a tavern full of merrymakers and loud with music before pulling us inside. Barra lingered uncertainly near the door, scanning the room. But I darted ahead through the crowd and snagged an empty back table with a sturdy-looking bench. Waving him over, I plastered a smile on my face as he came near, moving his bulky body carefully through the scrum.

It seemed like everyone was out on the town tonight—drinking, laughing, and dancing to their heart’s content. Folk tended to get a bit foolhardy in Kurriel at the end of each month, a swelling energy that was released through the night’s celebrations. Supposedly in honor of the goddess, our kingdom’s dual-souled deity. For as much as I liked the idea of the goddess and her open-hearted mysteriousness, on Rising Nights I usually just felt grateful, like most people, to have an excuse to go a bit feral once a month in whatever random town’s pub I frequented at the time. I hadn’t felt that swelling pressure in my mind over these past days, but it hit me hard now. Goddess, I needed a drink.

Barra slid onto the bench next to me, keeping a wary few inches between us. “El, are you sure you want to eat here?” He raised his voice a bit to be heard over the music. “I feel like we should go someplace to talk.”