30. Consorts

30

Consorts

Safira Chastain

I heard a sharp snort, and the ringing sound of metal on what sounded like a stone floor.

Horseshoes. He'd put horseshoes on Celyn, shod him like a common animal, driven nails through hooves that never needed such a thing. Rage shot through me, a wildfire anger that consumed the fear and the chaff of my memories. How dare he.

I grabbed the bolt and threw it open. Cocky, arrogant bastard. A padlock would have stopped me, but Kip leaned on his magic for everything. No task was too small to show off his power. If it could be done with magic, he did it with magic. The barn had a barrier-spell, and I was certain the stall did, too, but he couldn't interfere with me. I walked into the darkness, into that dark, featureless box, and nothing stopped me.

I couldn't see him, but I heard Celyn shifting, the sound of iron on stone an ugly clatter. He couldn't touch me, not unless I touched him first.

"Can you come close to me?" I asked, my voice shaking. Maybe he didn't want me here. Maybe he hated me for letting him go into this situation. Maybe—

Air shifted near me, and my dark-dazed eyes told me something was moving near me, even though I couldn't pick out the shape. With one trembling hand, I reached out, moving slowly so that I wouldn't smack him or poke him in the eye. Fur brushed my fingertips, and I pressed my hand against the smooth side of his neck.

Celyn made a low sound, a tremor running through him. He didn't move closer.

I felt for him with my other hand, then stepped forward so I could lean my face against him, tears springing unbidden into my eyes.

"I'm so sorry," I told him, knowing he couldn't answer me and with no idea what restrictions Kip had already put on his actions. My throat grew tight, and I tried not to break down. "It was never you I was afraid of," I said, my words coming out thick and unsteady. "It was him. I'm so, so scared of being caught by someone like him again, and it poisons so many things."

A sob escaped as the tears dripped down my cheeks and wetted his strong neck. "I love you, Celyn," I said, sounding miserable. "I'm sorry it took you taking my place in a monster's chains for me to see it."

He made another sound, something like pain, and then a low whicker.

Horses whicker to their friends and companions. I thought that maybe it meant that he forgave me, and wanted me to know that he cared for me, too.

I pressed my lips to his neck, then sniffed. I knew better than to say anything along the lines of offering to free him. Kip was arrogant and self-assured, but he wasn't stupid. He knew how to protect his property. No doubt telling Celyn to defend the bridle had been one of the first commands he uttered. But I knew how Kip thought, and I could work with that to give Celyn plausible ways to lean into loopholes in whatever commands he'd been given.

"I'm going to check to make sure your bridle is secure," I said quietly. "Magus Silvertongue wants to make sure you don't escape, and as his wife I am duty-bound to ensure that he didn't miss anything."

Celyn made a bright sound, like the first note of a whinny, but soft enough that it wouldn't ring through the barn.

A tight smile settled onto my mouth as he moved, stepping backwards so that his neck ran along my fingers until he could put his head in my hands. I started tracing the lines of the bridle, feeling for the buckles. The passive barrier spells hadn't stopped me; maybe a locking spell wouldn't, either.

But there weren't any buckles. I gave Kip reluctant credit. He'd removed the easiest way to take off a bridle, molding the leather so that it was one continuous piece, fitting Celyn's face with unnatural security. The only way to take it off would be to cut it, and Kip had surely spelled the leather against being cut by iron or steel. That was a sensible precaution; he had enemies, and an unbound water-horse would be a very dangerous weapon for such a person.

"He did a good job," I said.

A snort.

I leaned forward and rested my forehead against his, and Celyn didn't pull away. It seemed like he couldn't offer his head without a good reason, but neither did he have to take away my access to his face and the bridle, once I had it. Good.

"I'm Magus Silvertongue's wife, which according to the laws of the country in which we wed makes me his property," I said in a calm tone, though the words felt like slime as I said them. I shuddered, and Celyn pressed the smallest fraction towards me. That gentle contact gave me something to cling to. I took a deep breath. "Protecting his property is like protecting him, and helping his property is like helping him," I said. "You can help me, because I belong to him."

Celyn made another encouraging soft whinny.

My trembling mouth turned up in a smile as I stroked his cheeks, drawing strength from his warmth and the clean smell of alpine air. "Because I belong to Magus Silvertongue, everything I possess is his, as well," I said. "I have a second bridle for you, so that you'll be doubly bound. But I need power in order for it to work."

He shuddered under my hands, but he made another of those encouraging sounds.

I had to be guessing the right things, and giving him the right framework to justify his actions. Bindings were tricky things, the books had said. It's very difficult to force something to follow the spirit and intentions of your commands. The words mattered, and a clever creature could twist those words, and wind around their meanings. Celyn might have come here with every intention to obey, but he could do the same thing, and I would help.

Lie like the fae , I thought grimly.

"Celyn," I said, my hands starting to shake. "You told me that you would have given me all of yourself if I asked you to share your life with me. I'm asking now. Will you make me your consort?"

He made a sound I had never heard any horse make before, something like a wracking sob. Celyn started trembling, breathing hard, with harsh sounds.

"Shh, shh." I held him and a tear fell onto his face. "You don't have to. It's your choice."

Celyn moved his head, a slight shift to one side that I thought might be his attempt at shaking his head.

I swallowed. "I'm afraid of permanent bonds, but that's okay," I said. I knew he must be able to smell the fear on me. "It's not because of you. You're wonderful." I felt him go completely still under me, not even breathing. I ran my thumbs along the soft silk of his cheeks. "You are the best thing to ever happen to me, Celyn," I said. "I love you more than life itself. I crawled out of your lake to stop you, because I couldn't bear the agony of what you were doing for me. I'm tormented by the sight of your waters and I don't know how I'll ever bear being able to look at them while you're separated from them."

More tears fell, stinging and hot. "I'm not asking only because of what I can do with that power. I'm asking because I want you to feel it when I touch you. I want to talk to you again. I don't want to live without you." I panted out my pain. "But if you can't, or if you don't want to, that's okay. You protected me from the things that would have destroyed me. I'll stay here with you. I'll comfort you in the night and I'll learn how not to be afraid. I'm not leaving without you."

I trembled, my whole body shaking. He didn't move, staying there with me, his body held stiff and still.

"I love you," I whispered, closing my eyes, wishing I could hear his voice. "Celyn, I love you so much. "

A word crossed my mind like a memory of a dream, faint and so loose that if I'd tried to catch it I would never have been able to remember it at all. I whispered it as I thought it, in that strange, unfocused space of someone first waking. "Psalytaemanthe."

I opened my eyes. That was a name. A name slipped into my thoughts by a creature who should only be able to do such a thing while underwater, who even now trembled from the focused effort of placing that much thought into my mind.

Elemental creatures are bound by their names, which twine through the magic that defines who they are. You can command such a creature by the power of their name. It wouldn't override the binding of the bridle, but it could push against it. Kip must have forbidden Celyn from using his power. He could speak to me – barely – because that pattern already existed. His name was another pattern, a way he could move.

"Psalytaemanthe, if you want to, make me your consort," I said, still giving him a way to refuse, if he desired.

Power thundered into me. It felt like being caught under a river's waterfall, the force so intense that if I hadn't been clinging to Celyn I would have collapsed to my knees. My vision whited out and my ears rang, my legs turning to water as the muscles along my spine seized. It seemed to go on forever, those few heartbeats of time stretching into an eternity.

As the sparks in my vision danced and I started being able to hear my own ragged breathing again, I realized that I was all but dangling from where my fingers had wrapped around the bridle, pain shooting through my clenched fists. I staggered back up to my feet, the sensation of being overwhelmed by the physical force of Celyn's power fading until I felt like my regular self again.

Well. Not quite like my regular self. I could feel a distant tug to the north and a little to the east, like homesickness or a tether. I suspected that the longer I stayed away from the lake, the more uncomfortable that tug would become.

I released Celyn and put my shoulders back. He leaned his nose forward to touch my chest, the first time he'd ever been able to initiate touch with me. That contact made me fluttery, and not in a bad way. He could touch me. He could reach out to me, initiate in a way he'd never been able to before. He'd given himself to me, but I'd given myself to him, too.

I unbuckled my leather satchel and pulled out the cloth. The blood had leaked out, and it smelled like a slaughterhouse. Celyn snorted against my chest with what sounded like disgust.

"It's rather gruesome," I said ruefully. I unwrapped it, peeling the cloth away from the clotted blood. The bands clung to themselves, and I had to pull them apart, until it hung from my hands in the darkness. I could see a little bit better, shadows within shadows, but not enough to really discern anything. I took a breath. "Will you bow your head for Magus Silvertongue's second bridle, given with my hands?" I asked.

He whickered quietly and shifted, lifting his head moving so that his nose touched my hand. I followed the line of his muzzle, dragging the bloody bridle onto his face. Celyn chewed on the metal bit in his mouth, and accepted the one made with my hair and blood.

It didn't feel like anything when I put the band over his ears and left it there, lying across Kip's bridle. I hadn't expected to, but that lack of sensation still stirred my anxiety. What if it didn't work? What if this had all been for nothing?

No, I told myself. It hadn't been for nothing. I would stay with him and take care of him if this didn't work. I would be his comfort for the lifespan of the man who held him enslaved. I was Celyn's consort now, and nothing could take him away from me.

A horrible thought crept into my mind. If nothing else, there was one other way to free a water-horse. Celyn only wore this body. He was the lake. If it came down to it, I could cut his throat, and return to Barixeor and wait. In a year or ten, he would have a body again, and I would be there to greet him. I hoped it wouldn't come to that, but I knew that if he needed that escape, I would give it to him.

"My hands put the bridle on your face," I said. "You belong to me."

He made that pleased sound again.

I licked my lips. I hoped that meant it had worked. "Choose to follow the commands already given to you, or not. Release your power and break any spells on the bridle."

Celyn shook himself hard, then shoved his head against my chest. I staggered from the unexpected force and hit the wall. He followed me, pressing up against me, and I wrapped my arms around his head.

"Hold still, please," I said, crying again, but this time from relief. I pulled out my belt-knife and slipped it under the leather band that wrapped around his muzzle, and started cutting it as Celyn leaned against me, holding still for me.

The tough leather didn't cut easily, but it did cut, and I worked my way through it until I broke through the band with a sharp jerk of my knife. I did the same with the band that wrapped around his jaw, then sheathed my knife and dragged the whole disgusting mess off of Celyn's face.

He shifted forms, rearing up onto two legs, and a second later he had his hands on my face and his mouth on mine, kissing me with desperate passion as he pressed himself against me. I flung the bridles to the side and wrapped my arms around him, returning his kiss with desperation of my own, hot tears sliding down my face. Celyn's mouth opened against mine, and I met him, running my tongue along his while he made a low sound of want. He tasted of blood and iron, but he also tasted like himself, the clear cold of an alpine lake, and I chased that sweet clarity.

It was Celyn who broke the kiss, pressing his forehead to mine and breathing in great gasps, his fingers buried in my short hair. "You came for me," he said, his voice rough. "You walked into your worst nightmare for me."

"I love you," I said again. "I love you more than I'm afraid of my worst nightmares." I swallowed, stroking his hair and his muscular back. "Thank you for protecting me, and thank you for forgiving me."

"You forgave me, too, Safira," Celyn said. He pressed his warm mouth to mine again, an affectionate touch. "I do not know much about love, or about forgiveness, but it seems to me that the desire to forgive each other for trespasses must be the wellspring of love." With a soft sound, Celyn took me into his arms, and nuzzled against my neck. "You gave yourself to me." His voice was soft, and almost shy.

"So did you." I kept holding him and touching him. Tsirisma Lake, a water-horse, my lover, and now my consort. Fey and powerful, strange and ancient, bound together with me until the lake itself died. We were going to live a long, long time.

At last, Celyn released me, stepping back. He took my hands in his, in the depths of the darkness. "I have a question for you," he said, his voice serious.

I made a questioning sound, and heard him exhale, a harsh sound.

"What do you want to do about the wizard?"