Chapter 7

ANA

Ana clung close to Quinn's hip, her eyes darting amidst the occupants of the bustling courtyard. Regret gnawed at her. She should have studied the pathway on her way out, gathering information needed for her escape.

Hushed murmurs filled the air, casting fleeting shadows against the backdrop of a blazing pit. The fire crackled and hissed, its aromatic smoke mingling with the earthiness of damp moss, a curious comfort in the unusual scene. To the side, three gargoyles swayed in sync, their gourd drums pounding with a steady pulse that resonated in Ana's bones.

The cool, velvety air carried a subtle hint of moisture. Above, the moon, a radiant pearl amidst the vast expanse of the midnight sky, cast an ethereal glow. Quinn gripped her hand, drawing her attention.

"This neamhaidh is our ceremony to honor the goddess. We celebrate her celestial grace, the moon, and its healing light." Quinn steered her toward one of the carved logs encircling the fire. His tail brushed her leg, sending a shiver up her spine, an unsettling blend of fear and a curious thrill.

With each step, she became increasingly aware of the penetrating gaze of hundreds of eyes. Furtive glances flickered from beneath hooded brows, and clammy dread prickled her palms. Surrounded by males, the air crackled with anticipation, chilly sweat blooming on her back. Quinn stopped before the log, his dark eyes sweeping over her and leaving her breathless.

"Please, sit, Ana." He moved his touch to her shoulder.

"Wait." She arched an eyebrow. "I never mentioned my name." She sat as he winked, a spark of mischief in his eyes.

"No need, my lady," he chuckled. "I have my ways."

A memory flickered, the face of her gnome handmaiden. "Tilda told you."

With a smile, Quinn nodded. His smooth fingers glided down her arm like a gentle breeze. They delicately wrapped around hers. As his lips brushed against her hand, the softness of his breath caressed her skin. A subtle fragrance lingered in the air; a faint hint of his vanilla made her quiver. "She shall join you momentarily."

He released her hand, but not without a lingering hesitation. "I shall return," he said as he started to walk away, his words tinged with an unspoken promise.

"Wait!" Her heart pounded in her chest, the heat spreading with every covetous gaze that raked her. This courtyard, filled with unmated males, constricted like a predator's den. "Where are you going?"

As he turned back to her, a smile appeared on his face. "I need to prepare." He paused, his hand resting reassuringly on her shoulder. "Don't fret, my lady. None shall dare touch you while I court you." Then he melted into the darkness, only to reappear moments later, adorned with black tribal markings on his chest, arms and legs that danced in the firelight. His muscular form, a canvas painted with patterns, seemed to ripple with his power.

He bowed and joined other gargoyles surrounding the fire. Though they couldn't touch her, their stares pierced her skin, making her squirm and bite her lip, feeling exposed and helpless. She shifted in her seat, trying to find some relief.

As the drum's pounding intensified, echoing in her ears, the circle of gargoyles began their dance. Their movements synchronized with the increasing tempo, vibrating the air and pounding her torso. Rocking back and forth, the males moved with the rhythm.

A female gnome wearing a green bucket hat walked up to her and handed Ana a silver goblet. "Drink up. It will warm your bones." She winked, then left.

Ana's gaze fixed on the liquid, its depths swirling with an enigmatic darkness. No scent tickled her nose, no hint of its nature. "Thank you," she called after the wee woman.

She took a sip. In a split second, her eyes watered, her breath caught, and her throat burned as she swallowed. She coughed and sputtered, setting the potent drink back down.

Powerful stuff.

Once she regained her composure, she returned her focus to the prince. With grace and precision, Quinn showcased qualities that were unexpected for someone of his stature. His movements blended seamlessly with those of the other dancers, showing their unity through a series of intricate maneuvers.

For a moment, her fear receded, replaced by a strange fascination. This was not a monster's dance but a story told in flesh and bone and a glimpse into both an ancient and alien world. And in Quinn's eyes, burning with a sapphire fire, was an intensity that flamed a spark within her.

Sweat glistened on his chiseled chest. A drip slid down his rock-hard abs and continued to his leather pants. It converged with others and continued its way over his waistband and farther over a noticeable bulge.

Ana was caught up in the generous package of this gargoyle; her mouth went dry, and she took another sip of the strong liquid. Damned if between the erotic thudding of the drums, his sensual dancing, and even the heady ale, she didn't feel horny.

She took another swig, wincing, the alcohol burning a fiery path down her throat. It did little to drown the combustion Quinn ignited in her core. He was more handsome than any male had the right to be. His thighs flexed with each bend of his knee sending a tremor through her being. Ana drained her goblet, the warmth spreading, but not the kind she craved. It was the primal urge to succumb, to become a willing ember in his intoxicating flame. She bit her lip, the heat creeping up her neck.

A smiling gnome refilled her cup, and Ana chuckled. Another gulp, another desperate attempt to quell the fire within.

"Be careful with that ale," a voice cautioned next to her. She turned to find Tilda sitting by her side, her auburn locks elegantly pinned back with a headband. The gnome motioned toward Quinn and said, "Tasty, right?"

The word echoed in Ana's head, twisting with her desire. "Yep," Ana replied absentmindedly. As time slipped away, so did her usual sharpness of mind. She raised the glass to her lips, then immediately lowered it. Wait! Did Tilda say Quinn was tasty? "Great drink and a beautiful night." Her words slurred. She leaned down toward Tilda and said, "I like your hairdo."

The gnome shot over a sideways glance; her smile held a knowing curve. "Thank you, Ma'am."

Silence settled, broken only by the crackling flames and the rhythmic pounding of Ana's heart. She needed a distraction, anything to break the spell of Quinn's smoldering gaze. "Why do you serve the gargoyles?" Her eyes remained glued to him.

"It's a long story, involving an impromptu hide-and-seek game and a misunderstandin' with the gargoyle king. Thankfully, the prince saw us as harmless, and he even offered protection from the juguais." Tilda patted Ana's knee. "So, here we are."

Ana raised an eyebrow. A barrage of questions flooded her mind, but as she tried to voice them, her thoughts became a jumbled mess. Her head felt fuzzy, making it difficult to formulate the words she wanted to say. She opened her mouth, then closed it again, struggling to think clearly amidst the mental fog that had settled over her.

Tilda shrugged. "We were hidin' here, and the king found us. The prince convinced him to let us stay if we served them."

The tempo of the music increased, as did the vigor of the dance. The fire flared, turning blue. It illuminated the scene, casting an eerie glow on the dancing gargoyles. Amid the blaze, a ghostly figure emerged, a woman with flowing silver hair. She swayed gracefully, her movements fluid and ethereal, as if she danced beneath a surface of water.

Ana stumbled to her feet, mesmerized, but when she blinked, the apparition vanished, and the fire reverted to its scarlet hue. Had she imagined it? Was it the ale? She scrutinized her goblet, the potent liquid swirling within.

What did they put in this drink?

Shaking her head, she turned back to the dancers. Quinn raised his sword, dipping it into the heart of the fire. The blade ignited, and a sapphire flame licked at the night sky. He spun it, leaving a trail of radiant embers that twirled and danced.

Ana's vision blurred, the world tilting on its axis. The stars spun, their light pulsing with a hypnotic rhythm. She dropped her cup and reached for the log, but it seemed like someone had ripped it out from under her. The ground rose to meet her, cool and soft. She blinked but forgot to open her eyes again.

Soon, she found herself lifted off the grass, cradled in warm, reassuring arms that emanated a familiar scent. Instinctively, she pressed her palm against Quinn's solid chest, attempting to push away.

"No," she whispered, clinging to the last shred of awareness. She peeled open her eyes and looked into those of her keeper, struggling against the enticing darkness that threatened to claim her.

"Don't be afraid, my lady. I shall not disrespect you in this state," he said. The softness of his words had a calming effect.

"What differences?" she asked, her slurred speech frustrating her.

The prince tilted his head to the side. "What do you mean?"

She darted her gaze down recalling his impressive bulge and asked, "Um … between humans?" The question tumbled out before she could stop it. She struggled to form a coherent thought through the haze in her mind.

He laughed, a deep, rumbling sound that vibrated through her. "That, my lady, is a secret best discovered for yourself. And I assure you, the discovery shall be most…pleasing."

He leaned closer and caressed her ear with his lips, his whispered words lost in a fog that carried a tender meaning. Her strength drained away as she rested her cheek against his rising and falling chest, lulling her into a dreamless slumber.

The sun glowed through the open window, warming Ana's skin, and rousing her from sleep. A dull throb pulsed in her skull, accompanied by hazy fragments of an impossible night.

Was it her imagination? She pried open her eyes and saw the otherworldly surroundings. She sighed and closed her eyes, wishing it was a dream. Ana muttered, "Great. So I'm not just hungover. I'm in another realm. And not even the cool, dragon-riding kind."

She buried her face in the pillow, and her sharp claws pierced through the fabric. A flurry of feathers erupted, dancing and tickling her nose before settling like tiny snowdrifts.

A timid rap on the door startled her. Clutching the blankets, she retreated into their comforting embrace, hiding beneath them. Another louder, more insistent knock followed, disrupting her fragile sanctuary.

She grunted and answered, her tail lashed beneath the covers. Tilda entered with a cheerful smile and bearing a tray laden with steaming delights: fragrant tea, eggs, unfamiliar meat, a salad, and colorful fruit slices.

"I thought you would enjoy a meal alone, Ma'am." Tilda handed her the cup. "This will chase away your headache."

"Thank you." As she sat, Ana sipped the drink, relishing the warmth of the steam.

Tilda placed the tray on the nightstand. "Seems like you had some fun." She gestured to the feathers on the floor. "I will have someone come clean this for you."

"Sorry about the mess. I'll clean it." Ana mumbled, taking a bite of the unknown meat. A symphony of flavors exploded on her tongue, reawakening her senses. Royal fare appeared simple, but this held a wild, earthy essence.

"No need. I will have someone do it."

"I appreciate the food and tea," she said after swallowing.

"You really enjoyed the show last night." Tilda smiled and clasped her hands behind her back.

Ana almost choked. "I guess it was … interesting."

"I think one dancer was more interestin' than the others, do you agree?" The gnome winked at her.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Ana looked away and ate another bite. She knew Tilda was alluding to her attraction to Quinn. She changed the subject. "What happened that you needed the gargoyle's protection?" She looked back at the wee woman.

Tilda glanced away, her eyes misting. "Juguais organized a dance party in our village and used us for snacks." She sighed and shook her head. "We're not much of a meal for them, so the attack was mostly for sport."

Ana stopped eating and set the tray aside. She knelt before Tilda, hugging her. "I'm so sorry."

A shiver ran down Ana's spine as she thought of Tilda's terror. No wonder they clung to the gargoyles. She'd gladly serve others for eternity if it meant escaping such a fate. And yet, that is what she could face if she didn't learn all she could about this place. She wanted to ask more about the juguais and other dangers she may encounter, but she could see it pained Tilda. She'd have to wait for another time.

"Gnomes are survivors." Tilda sniffed, squeezing her. "Thrivin', even."

Ana drew back, meeting her gaze. The gnome nodded, patted her shoulder, and smiled. Ana glanced at the food on her plate, but she had lost her appetite. She shivered and looked out the window, seeking a momentary escape. The distant sounds of birds filled the air, creating a peaceful ambiance.

She sat back on the bed, the mattress sagging beneath her weight. Reaching for the tray, she stared at the untouched food. A heavy sigh escaped her lips, the sound mingling with the scent of tea and buttery eggs. Yet hidden within despair, a spark of determination flickered. She would find her way back, even if it meant unraveling the mystery of her arrival one step at a time.

Taking a deep breath, Ana decided to press on with a less sensitive topic. "What about centaurs?" she asked, hesitantly. "Are they bad too?"

Tilda's smile faltered for a moment. "Centaurs now," she said, her voice rough. "They aren't evil, not like the juguais. But they can be right prideful creatures. Greedy. Self absorbed, some might say. Focused on their own herds and lands, they often overlook the troubles of others if it doesn't directly affect them. Strong and fierce, that's for sure, but sometimes that strength blinds them to the needs of the smaller folk." Her brow furrowed. "And anything that gets in their way? Well, they tend to not much care about the cost."

"So that is what caused the battles with the gargoyles?"

Tilda nodded. "Now eat." She pointed to her food. "I made it especially for you."

After Ana forced herself to finish the food, Tilda set aside the tray and helped Ana dress in a new outfit. "The prince has requested to take you on a tour of the kingdom," Tilda said. "He will meet you outside. You can take the window."

Ana's stomach lurched. "Take the window? As in… fly?" She raised her eyebrow. "I haven't exactly mastered the art of avian locomotion, let alone skydiving." Ana stretched her neck to look out the window and gulped. "And that's a long drop."

Tilda gave her a strange look, and Ana remembered her new wings. "I mean, I haven't learned to fly," she corrected, then took a few steps away from the opening. "And I'm afraid of heights."

The gnome stifled a laugh. "I will take you to him, Ma'am."

Emerging from her room, they encountered a newly stationed guard outside her door. Passing him, Ana felt his eyes prickle her skin.

As they made their way, this time, she kept a hawk-eye on the path, picturing her escape route, too tired to do so the night before. Yet when Quinn's voice reached her ears, intrigue welled inside her. Curious, she strayed from Tilda's side, drawn by the thread of anger in his tone.

"Ma'am, please come with me." Tilda tugged Ana's arm.

"Give me a minute, please," Ana whispered, her eyes fixated on the entrance of the grand hall. She peered inside to where a group of gnomes huddled in a corner. Their faces were creased with worry lines. Brow furrows deepened as their eyes darted around the space like trapped birds. Tiny hands clutched at each other as whispers flitted between them, punctuated by the occasional muttered curse.

They huddled as they faced King Hamil, who sat upon his throne, the room now stripped bare. "I have harbored enough of their kind." The king slammed his fist on the solid wood armrest. "We only need so many to serve us. We haven't the room or resources for more mouths to feed." He stood.

"We have enough space and food for them, Father," Quinn pleaded, his voice strained with frustration. "Juguais continue to lay waste to their homes. You know what that is like." He placed his hands on his hips.

Hamil scowled. "I rule here, and my word is law. We shall take no more." He dismissed the matter with a wave.

Witnessing Quinn's face falling and his eyes dimming, Ana's curiosity and sympathy for him intensified. "As you wish, Father."

Tilda's urgent voice broke Ana's reverie. "Ma'am, we have to go, now!" She yanked at Ana's arm.

Ana nodded. She had no intention of interrupting or interacting with the king again. They hurried down the hall, then veered right. As footsteps approached, they squeezed into a shadowed alcove. His proximity was suffocating, but facing Guignol or any gargoyle held even less appeal.

In the dimness, they held their breath as soldiers marched past. Soon after, Quinn's voice, hushed but resolute, filled the air. "I shall do what I can," he promised the gnomes. "There is a shelter beneath the castle. It is a safe place. I shall ensure increased rations for you."

"You're too kind, Prince Quinn," a voice said. Ana peeked at a gnome who had a long, gray beard and a red beret.

As they neared Ana's hiding spot, Quinn raised his head, his nostrils flaring. When he scanned the area, she plastered herself against the wall, holding her breath. As he loomed nearer, the air grew thick and heavy, pressing down on her like a physical weight. Then, in the distance, the sound of voices carried through the corridor. Quinn paused, head tilted toward the sound.

"Did you see the female?" rasped one. "A rare beauty, if you ask me."

"Fire in bed, I wager," another cackled. "Maybe I shall have a chance to prove it for myself."

"She is beyond your reach, my friend," sneered a third. "The prince has claimed her. You don't want to cross him."

"The female shall not accept the prince," said the first one. "Perhaps there is a chance for one of us."

Quinn growled, a low, menacing sound. He said to the gnomes, "I know who they are, and I shall rectify their behavior with them later. Let us leave before they see you."

As soon as the voices faded, Tilda tugged at Ana's clothes. The gnome's pupils were larger than usual.

"Ma'am, please. The king does not like peepers, and I don't want to risk gnomes being thrown out," she said.

"Let's go," Ana whispered, her voice barely audible. She followed Tilda, her pulse hammering, desperate to escape the unsettling whispers and chilling threats lingering in the dark halls.