Magic's Muse Page 15

  “I don’t want you to tire of it.” Cathal leaned into Tomas’s touch. He loved the way Tomas tasted. It was a mixture of coffee, something very distinctly male, and uniquely Tomas. He couldn’t get enough of it. “You taste very good,” he whispered, kissing him again, savoring it.

  “Is everything okay?” Tomas finally asked, gesturing for them to lie on the bed together so they could hold and touch each other while they talked. “What did you and Will talk about? You seemed angry with him.”

  “I’m not angry with him, love.” Cathal traced the outline of Tomas’s collarbone with one finger. “The anger I feel is more with myself and this situation.” He sighed. “I’m so tired, Tomas. The enchantment weighs on me more with each day, and I’m frustrated by it. I see Christian as he currently is and Will in a world in which he does not want to be, and I feel responsible.”

  “None of this is your fault, Cat.” Tomas brushed back a lock of hair that had fallen forward over Cathal’s face. “If anyone is to blame it’s Deryn and your council of mages for laying down their stupid rules in the first place.” He frowned. “Does Will blame you? Is that what you talked about?”

  Cathal shook his head. “No.” He hesitated, unsure as to whether he should share what Will had told him. “Will has… something on his mind.”

  “Something which he told you in confidence?” Tomas pulled Cathal closer. “And I suppose now you’re torn between keeping that confidence and whether you should tell me?”

  “Am I that obvious?”

  “I’d like to think we’ve got to know each other a little more with everything that’s happened between us, yeah.” Tomas kissed the top of Cathal’s head. “I love you, Cat,” he whispered.

  “I love you too, Tomas.” Although they repeated the words often, Cathal never tired of hearing them. He smiled, taking Tomas’s hand in his, kissing each finger in turn.

  “Do that and I’m not going to be able to concentrate on anything.”

  “Is that a problem?” Cathal carried on with what he was doing. To his surprise Tomas slipped out of the embrace. “Tomas?” Cathal felt a sudden wave of nervousness from Tomas. “What’s wrong? Have I done something to upset you?”

  “No!” Tomas swallowed. “You haven’t. Far from it, in fact. I just….” He cleared his throat, clearly agitated. “God, I really suck at this. I wanted this moment to be just right, and I’m messing it up.”

  “This moment?” Cathal stared at Tomas, his throat dry. He swung his legs across so he could sit on the edge of the bed. What was Tomas trying to say?

  Tomas’s hand went to the pendant around his neck, holding it tightly, his thumb stroking it. When he finally spoke it was very quietly, barely above a whisper. “In your world this pendant is a sign that I am yours and that we are betrothed. I wanted….” He stopped, staring at the floor.

  “What do you want, love?” Cathal lost his battle between letting Tomas speak when he was ready and the need to know he was all right. He licked his lips, Tomas’s nervousness mixing and merging with his own.

  “You.” Tomas’s voice broke. “I want you, Cat. From the moment we met, I just wanted you, even if it took me a while to admit that to myself.” He looked up at Cathal, his eyes misting over with the emotion that was threatening to overwhelm them both.

  Cathal nodded, not trusting himself to answer with the words he wanted to say.

  “I love you,” Tomas finally said, his tone firmer. “I love you,” he repeated, taking strength in repeating the words. “I wear something that marks me as yours in your world.” He reached into his pocket, bringing out a small black case. “I want you to have something that signifies that you are mine in this one.”

  “Tomas….” Cathal’s breath hitched, suspecting what Tomas held but not daring to say as much.

  Tomas opened the case and reached for Cathal’s left hand. He held it out, leaning forward to see the treasure that lay nestled in black fabric. It was a gold ring, slender but strong, much like Tomas himself. Around the edge of it was a pattern of tiny leaves, each intertwining around the other to form a beautiful unbroken circle. “In my world this means that we are betrothed, but it can also be worn as a wedding band once we are married.” He cleared his throat again. “Marry me, Cat, in this world too. Be mine. I will always be yours.”

  “Oh, Tomas.” Cathal felt a tear escape and roll down his cheek. “I will always be yours no matter what happens or what world we’re in.” Tomas slipped the ring on Cathal’s finger.

  “This is given with love, my Cat, my dragon, just as my pendant was given and received with love.” Now Tomas had found his words, they flowed from him.

  Cathal recognized them for the marriage vows they were. “It will be worn with love, Tomas.” He smiled. “My Tomas. Always.”

  He was answered by a kiss, rather than words. They leaned into each other, linking their hands together. Cathal gestured for Tomas to sit with him. Tomas did so and then lowered them both back so they were lying down again.

  “It suits you,” Tomas whispered. He seemed relieved, his mood much lighter. “I was worried it wouldn’t fit, or you wouldn’t like it.”

  “It’s beautiful, Tomas.” Cathal brushed the side of Tomas’s eye with his thumb, catching the tiny drops of moisture still there. “How did you arrange this?”

  Tomas grinned a little, somewhat embarrassed. “I bought it online from a jeweler I know in London. I asked Ethan to pick it up and bring it with him. I didn’t trust the post, not with something as important as this.”

  “Online?” Cathal thought he knew what was meant by it but wasn’t certain.

  “On the Internet, with my laptop,” Tomas explained. “I’d been thinking about it for a while and didn’t want to wait any longer. I was so worried when you fell from the horse that I’d left it too late.” His expression changed, a stubborn look chasing one of determination. “I want this world as well as yours to know we are together.” He caressed the ring that Cathal now wore. “We know we want to be together. We’ve already committed in everything but an actual marriage ceremony. This is forever, as far as I’m concerned, even without the fact that your people mate for life.”

  “This has always been forever, as far as I’m concerned, my love.” Cathal placed his hand over Tomas’s. “I do not make this kind of promise lightly.”

  “I know you don’t.” Tomas stared at their joined hands. “Marry me, Cat.” He placed one finger of his free hand on Cathal’s lips when Cathal opened his mouth to remind Tomas he’d already promised he would. “I mean sooner, rather than later. My sister will be here in a few days. She’s my only family; I want her as a witness. You said that we only needed witnesses, right?”

  “For it to be….” Cathal stopped, realization dawning. Why hadn’t he insisted on this himself? “If we are already married my uncle will have to accept it. He cannot annul what has already taken place.”

  Tomas nodded. “I don’t want to go near your world unless we are married, Cat. I don’t want to risk losing you again because the king and those fucking mages think you should be with someone else.” His expression shadowed. “Deryn cannot have you. I don’t care how you fit into her plans. You’re mine.”

  “I no longer fit into Deryn’s original plan, Tomas. We had not joined then, but we have now. She is too late.” There were other ways in which he could be of use to her, but he would not dwell on those, not now. He smiled when Tomas’s darkness lifted. “I do,” he said softly.

  “You… what?” It was impossible to miss the confusion in Tomas’s expression.

  Cathal couldn’t help but chuckle. “Do I have the expression wrong?” he asked. “I thought that when you accepted a marriage proposal in this world, you tell the other person ‘I do’.”

  “Yes, but that’s usually when….” Tomas started to explain, then it seemed to dawn on him what exactly Cathal had said. Perhaps it was an explanation that really didn’t matter, after all. Tomas smiled. It lit up not only his face but his heart, the warmth and joy enveloping him, spilling out as he invited Cathal to join him as one. “I do, Cat,” he said softly. “I do too.”

  Chapter 11

  CATHAL stretched his legs out, enjoying the warmth of the sun. The next morning had brought with it fine weather, although it was chilly in the shade. Tomas was busy working on the next scene of his book, and so, after ensuring his coffee was refilled, Cathal had retreated with the intention of starting work on the flute he’d promised to carve. It was beautiful here, the green fields stretching for miles, apart from the odd farmhouse dotted here and there, reminiscent of Rhopryd.

  Focusing on the intricate part of the pattern was proving more difficult than it should. Despite Tomas’s protestations that it wasn’t necessary, he’d finally agreed to take the box with the precious contents of the bank letter and dragon and hide it. The enchantment would be broken soon, he’d argued, not wanting to listen to Cathal’s insistence that it was better to plan for every eventuality.

  “If the Falcons come, at least this way you’ll be provided for.” Cathal winced at the memory of the fear and anger in Tomas’s eyes at the reminder of something he didn’t want to think about. He hated having to be the voice of reason, but as much as he loved Tomas, there was no escaping the fact that there was still a naïveté about him when it came to their current situation.

  Cathal wanted them to have their happy ending. God, he wanted it so badly. But so had Christian and Alice, and they’d lost everything.

  His knife stilled on the wood. His hand shook. He bit his lip and took several deep breaths. He wouldn’t dwell on the past. It was gone, all of it, just memories and shadows of dreams that would now never be.

  “Promise me you’ll start the flute this morning, Cat.” Tomas’s words were strain
ed. He’d taken Cathal into his arms as soon as he’d spoken them. “If they come, I need some way to follow you. Please.”

  Cathal stared at the knife and laid it and the barely begun instrument down next to him. Carving it with an unsteady hand would not achieve anything. He’d wait a few minutes and try again. His coffee cup was still warm. He picked it up, wrapped his fingers around it, and took another sip.

  The gold band on his finger caught a sliver of sunlight, gently bathing the leaves that encircled it as he turned his hand this way and that.

  He didn’t want to return to Naearu before they were married. He loved Tomas, but the court would never recognize their union if they were not, despite the fact they were already mated. Was he doing the right thing in waiting for Tomas’s sister to arrive? Or was he dooming them to repeat Christian and Alice’s mistake by doing so? If they’d been married, the Falcons would have had to leave Christian here. Not only was the law concerning a couple joined by marriage an important one, but it was forbidden to bring someone from this world knowingly through the portal into Naearu.

  Cathal would have been dragged back to face his punishment alone.

  He glanced down at the beginnings of the flute. Carving this and giving it to Tomas so that he could follow his betrothed through the portal would be considered treason, especially if they were not yet married.

  If he transgressed again, his punishment would be a serious one. His relationship to the king would not be enough to save him.

  A twig snapped nearby. Cathal looked up, startled, his hand going to his knife. Why hadn’t he felt anyone approaching?

  “I see that you accepted his proposal.”

  “Ethan. Good morning.” A wave of relief went through him. It was quickly followed by the knowledge that this time he had been lucky. He was slipping, becoming too preoccupied by the past and a possible future. His lapse in focus could not be allowed to happen again.

  “Good morning, Cathal,” Ethan replied politely. He gestured to the seat on which Cathal was sitting. It was old, the back of it ornately carved in the shape of dragon’s wings. Much of the original pattern had been lost over the years, to the point it was no longer recognizable for what it was. Cathal still remembered the day he’d carved it. It was one of the few times he’d tried his hand at something a little different. He was pleased to find the seat was still here, once he’d recovered from his initial shock as to how worn it was. It hadn’t seemed that long ago since Christian had built it for Alice. But then, he supposed for him it wasn’t. “Do you mind if I join you?”

  “Of course not.” Cathal moved over to give Ethan some space. “We missed you at breakfast this morning.” They’d gone downstairs quite late, the lovemaking following their argument not only a declaration of their shared bond, but a reassurance they both needed. This was real. They were together. They were safe.

  Ethan shrugged. “I wanted to spend some time with Donovan before he went into the village for supplies.”

  “You could have gone with him. I’m sure he would have been glad of your company.” The knife and carving sat between them. Cathal retrieved his knife, returning it to his pocket. It was not something he tended to leave out in plain view, even in his own world.

  “I’m sure,” Ethan agreed. “However, there was something else I needed to do, and I figured, as I’m here for at least a week, there will be other opportunities to visit the village with him.” His eyes had followed the knife, watching it and Cathal. “Tomas showed me the pendant you made for him. What are you working on now?”

  “A replacement for something that was lost.” There was no need to give any more of an explanation yet. Although Ethan seemed polite enough, there was an underlying sense of something that was difficult to define about him. But then trust was something that needed to be earned, rather than freely given, by both of them.

  “If it wasn’t lost it wouldn’t need replacing, now would it?” Ethan rolled his eyes. “I see what Tomas means about you speaking in riddles.”

  “It’s not a riddle,” Cathal said calmly. He held out the carving for Ethan to look at. “It’s going to be a flute. As I’ve already said, the original was lost.”

  “You could have said that in the first place.” Ethan took it, turning the small hollow cylindrical shape over to examine it more carefully. “What kind of wood is this?”

  “Oak.” It had to be made from the oak for it to open the portal, as the enchantment allowing their worlds to momentarily coexist in the same place was bound to the tree. Other portals used different keys, but until the specifics of them were known it would be impossible to fashion the correct implement with which to open them. He’d found the way through this one; he would do so again with another. It was only a lock, after all, even if an unconventional one.

  “The same as that tree, then?” Ethan gestured toward the old oak but didn’t look up from the carving. “The pattern on this is similar to what is on Tomas’s pendant. Is this what was on the original? The one that was lost?”

  “No.” Cathal took it back from him, placing it carefully in his pocket. Now he’d begun to carve the pattern, this was an object of power and could not be allowed to fall into the hands of someone for whom it was not intended. “The original was mine and as such had merely the cat and rose on it. As this one is for Tomas, I am adding the quill.”

  “Okay, that makes sense about the quill.” Ethan frowned. “The cat, that’s you, yes? I don’t get the rose reference, though.”

  “The cat and rose are part of my family’s coat of arms.” Cathal couldn’t help but smile. “That is why they are on Tomas’s pendant. They mark him as mine, and under my protection.” He gazed down once more at the ring he wore. “Just as this ring marks me as his.”

  “It sounds very old-fashioned. The coat of arms thing, I mean.” Ethan glanced at the tree. For a moment it seemed to return his stare, the branches moving slightly, reaching toward them.

  Cathal shivered, looking quickly away. The air shimmered, just for an instant, a whisper of his name against a nonexistent breeze, the tattoo on his wrist growing warm to the touch. He closed his eyes, building a barrier in his mind, trying to hide himself behind it, as he’d done when he’d originally tried to break free of his leash. He could still breathe. This was not like the previous attack against him. No, this was something easily dealt with.

  “Are you okay?” Ethan sounded concerned. He laid a hand on Cathal’s arm.

  “I’m fine. Thank you.” Cathal opened his eyes. Everything seemed normal. This wasn’t his leash tightening, more like the enchantment testing itself, flexing its muscles. Still, he wouldn’t be foolish enough to fight it like last time. He’d keep within its boundaries, and it wouldn’t be a problem.

  “I heard that you fell from a horse a few days ago.” Ethan was still watching him. There was an intensity about the man that was more than a little unnerving. “Then you almost fell from a roof. If I didn’t know better, I’d wonder if you had some kind of death wish.”

  Cathal snorted. “I have no intention of dying anytime soon.” He stood, surprised when he wasn’t as steady on his feet as he expected. He shot the tree a glare. “The incident with the horse was beyond my control, and I knew what I was doing on the roof.”

  “Donovan told me what happened and how you slipped. It didn’t sound to me like the actions of someone who knew what they were doing,” Ethan said dryly.

  “I hadn’t realized how much the roof had deteriorated since the last time I was up there,” Cathal pointed out, more defensively than he intended. He leaned heavily against the seat, letting his fingers idly trace what was left of the dragon. “Such a lot has,” he added sadly. “I still find it difficult to remember that it was almost ninety years ago in this world. It was only six for me.”

  “I find the story about that whole other world where time passes differently hard to swallow,” Ethan admitted. “I’m not about to call Tomas a liar. I’ve known him too long. His writing might be prone to flights of fancy, but he’s always known the difference between fiction and reality.”

  “He still does. Just because something is outside the realm of your own experience does not mean it is not true, Ethan. Our worlds are very different, yet in some ways they are similar. Amongst my people there are those who would refuse to believe in some of the things you take as fact.” Cathal picked up his cup. “I’m going to go for a walk before lunch.” If he could put some distance between himself and the tree…. He stifled a yawn, ignoring Ethan’s amused reaction to it. “You are welcome to join me if you wish.”