The Stargazer

Stargazer (chapter thirteen)

This was getting tiring. Aislinn shoved back the covers and climbed laboriously from the bed. Rowan’s bed. The blasted man had apparently followed her and brought her back in spite of his threats not to help her again. Now she owed him a debt. That was not a comfortable thought.


A small pot of soup simmered on the low fire and she helped herself to a mug of it, the heat helping to restore her equilibrium. Staring into the flames, she sipped at her soup and tried to settle back into her body. At least she wasn’t dizzy any more. Power no longer sizzled under her skin. She took another drink of soup, not sure if she were happy about that or disappointed.


Fact: she had called power with the dance. Also fact: that power had nearly torn her apart. Unfortunate fact: Rowan had been right.


She made a face at the thought but sighed, finishing her soup and dropping the mug into the basin to be washed.  No matter that she’d succeeded in calling power, she was still trapped here. It was about time she found out why.


The sky arched blue overhead a she stepped from the tower, the light laying softly over the tree band. There was no sign of Rowan or Wheezer. She rubbed at her arms, staring into the green. Should she seek him out or leave him be until he calmed down a bit?


You could gather all the power you want to, but you won’t ever be able to form it or release it because time simply doesn’t move that way here.


The words Rowan had thrown at her yesterday reverberated in her skull. If time wasn’t moving here, that didn’t mean that time wasn’t speeding by outside. She simply had no way of knowing how much time had passed since she’d fallen through the mirror. Perhaps years had already gone by, perhaps only seconds. She simply didn’t know, but that didn’t mean she could afford to waste what time she did have.


Summer embraced her like a long lost friend, the warmth a comfort under the soothing spangle of emerald leaves. The distant murmur of the waterfall led her through the heavy trees to find Rowan sitting on the edge of the pool, staring into the rippling water. He was dressed this time, she was relieved to note, but clothes didn’t detract from the size and power of him. He glanced at her, no welcome in that dark gaze, before turning his attention back to the water.


Refusing to be deterred, Aislinn perched herself on the rocks beside him, just out of arm’s reach. She didn’t want to push her luck or his self-control too far.


The rush of water filled the silence between them intermingled with the soft crystalline song of shifting leaves. Light played over the water, dissolving rainbows in the ripples and casting emerald shadows on the foam.


“I take you’re feeling better.”


She gathered her knees to her chest and nodded, not looking at him.


“Yes, thank you.”


Silence again. Not that she’d really expected him to be chatty but that left her in a quandary. He had made the first move. It was her turn. The problem was she didn’t know how to broach the subject without insulting him or making him angry at the very least. She took a deep breath to steady her nerves and decided forthright was the only choice.


“What exactly was your bargain with the Time King?” From the corner of her eye, she saw him stiffen. “Don’t tell me it’s not my business,” she rushed, cutting him off before he could snap at her. “You and this king have made it very much my business.”


“You’re smarter than that,” he growled. “You know exactly what my bargain was.”


“I might make a few guesses, but this is my life we’re talking about. I’m not going to assume anything when it comes to you.” She shifted on the rock, irritable now in spite of herself. Getting angry with him hadn’t solved anything yet. When he said nothing more, she turned to face him, no longer willing to let him skirt the issue. “Yes, this place was built to hold his daughters until they fell in love, but that doesn’t mean that rule applies to you.”


“They fell in love. They left.” He glowered at the water. “I’m still here. Why do you think that is?”


“His daughters were to fall in love,” she pointed out. “They did. That part of the spell is done. Whatever you bargained for is still in effect which is why this bubble still exists.”


“There’s still a Faery princess in here, now isn’t there?”


She frowned, opening her mouth to argue and then closed it. He was right. But she hadn’t made any bargain for love with the king. Neither had his daughters, she reminded herself. Flicking out her wings, she glanced back where the tower sat hidden by emerald trees.


“Wait here just a moment.”


She didn’t wait for his agreement. She shot into the air and headed back. Seconds later, she was in the bower. Wrapping her fingers around the book, she wove her way back to Summer and the pond where Rowan waited. He glanced up as she landed and perched herself beside him once again. How he managed to look both amused and snarly at the same time was beyond her and a question for another day.


Flipping open the book, she searched for the passage.


If a man should come to love you and be willing to sacrifice himself to free you, the spell shall be broken. You may use no glamour to capture his heart nor shall your beauty be what he loves but the woman you are. He must prove beyond any doubt that his love is pure only then will you be free.


No glamour meant no magic, no spells to twist a man’s heart to their purpose. She closed the book slowly, mulling that over. They had been forced to dance, to call magic they couldn’t use. They would have been forced by necessity to turn to the men they might otherwise have avoided in order to ground the power. She gazed at the water, thoughtful now.


“You bargained for love,” she realized. “He offered you a princess, a Fae princess. But he already had twelve men in here. Why did he need you?”


“Maybe he thought they needed a jab to move things along. Or maybe they needed a variety to choose from.”


“No.” She shook her head, rejecting the suggestion. “He can move through time. He would know what men his daughter’s chose. He didn’t need you for that.”


Rowan shrugged. “He turned me loose for a while after they left, left me wandering around in a Faery Realm with no idea of what I was doing. I was finally getting comfortable when he snatched me back here and left me.”


“Which realm?” she asked, genuinely curious.


He shrugged again. “Same one you’re from, I suppose. You use the same words, same names. I just don’t remember the Sidhe having wings. They were tall and blond and didn’t need wings to fly.”


It was her turn to tuck her head and stare at the water.


“They are,” she affirmed softly.


He glanced at her wings pointedly and then back at the water, letting the silence ask the question. She sighed.


“I’m not a pure blood.”


“You said your father is Tuathe de’.”


Again, the silence pushed her for an explanation. He deserved that much, she supposed. She was asking him to answer questions he found uncomfortable.


“Yes. My father is King Finabarra’s youngest son. But, you see, my mother’s father is Fíon Caílíocha, the Jester of the Seelie Court. He’s a sprite and I inherited my hair and my wings from him.”


“Fíon?” He looked at her fully for the first time, surprise lightening his usual dark glower. “You’re the Jester’s granddaughter?”


“You know Fíon?” The thought tickled her though she wasn’t sure why. It might be the thought of a hapless changeling in the hands of the irrepressible Jester or might just be that they finally shared something other than imprisonment. “How did that come about?”


He shook his head. “It was when I was wandering around, still trying to get my bearings. I ran into him and his people dancing. Fíon was curious about me because I wasn’t the least bit interested in dancing.” He slanted her an amused look. “I’m sure you can understand that.”


“Definitely.” A chuckle welled up. “I can’t imagine it sat well with Fíon, though. He likes to think of himself as irresistible.”


“No, he wasn’t upset, just curious how a mere human could resist the lure of the dance which turned out to mean I was with the court for a few months while he picked and prodded at me for reasons for my oddness.” His amusement faded a little into something almost wistful. “In the end, he built a tower for me to live in and he used to come by and visit when he got bored.”


A tower. The words trickled up her spine and she shivered. An astrolabe is handheld and wouldn’t have a mirror. How did he know that?


“Rowan?” she asked carefully. “Did your tower have a telescope on the top?”


He looked up at the sky barely visible through the shifting canopy of leaves. “I used to look at the stars,” he murmured, “trying to figure out where in the universe I was. If I could figure that out, I could find a way home, right?”


“Stargazer,” she whispered. The book lay heavy in her lap. His life story bound in leather. Or bits of it anyway. She shook her head. “But how could the stars help you find your way home?”


“I am—or was—an asto-nav.”


“I don’t know what that is.”


“Astrological navigator. I steered ships from planet to planet.” He waved at the unresponsive sky. “When he dragged me back here, the King took the stars away. I think if he hadn’t done that, I might not hate him so much.”


An explorer who sailed the emptiness between worlds. Aislinn looked up at the sky, awe skating over her for the courage it would take to do such a thing. She’d taken him for a simple soldier, a fighter who bulled his way through any situation thrust at him. How wrong she’d been.


“You memorized the steps of the star’s dance,” she whispered. “How amazing.”


He lifted a shoulder, his gaze dropping back to the rippling water. The faint sense of joy of a moment before drained away leaving him morose once more.


“Not really. Just a matter of memorizing positions and cycles.”


How easily he discounted his own skill, she thought, but didn’t press him.


“Thank you for coming after me again. I owe you.”


“It was nothing.”


She sighed. He should know that debts were couldn’t be dismissed so easily. “I still owe you a debt.”


“A debt?” He tilted his head to glower at her but there seemed to be less anger in the look than there had been. “No more dancing then.”


“You know I can’t promise that. Two days with no dancing.”


A dark brow rose. “Haggling? You owe me the debt. I get to set the terms.”


“Two days,” she insisted, refusing to admit he was right.


“Two weeks.”


“Half that. One week with no dancing,” she shot back quickly, hiding her surprise that he was settling for weeks when she’d been expecting years or even decades.


A faint smile touched his mouth and he looked away again. “Stubborn wench,” he muttered.


“Absolutely. How kind of you to finally notice.” She batted her lashes at him, resisting the urge to laugh outright. As if she’d never been called stubborn before.


His humor faded as he mulled over the offer. She waited. Pushing him would only drag out this bargaining. Until he agreed to the terms, she was left owing him and that was an uncomfortable place to be in.


“You’ve already nearly killed yourself dancing,” he said finally, his voice soft rather than accusing. “Why are you insisting on trying it again?”


It was her turn to stare into the water. “You’ve been here a long time, Rowan. I understand that. But I haven’t. I can’t stop fighting. Not yet. I can’t. I’m not ready to join you in your apathy just yet.”


“It isn’t apathy,” he snapped. “I’m simply smart enough not pit myself against a superior force head-on. It’s a good way to get killed.”


“Yet I see far more possibility in breaking this spell with my own magic than the alternative.” She rose, giving up for the moment. “After all, how could I ever expect you to fall in love with me? You don’t even like me.”