Kathryne Kennedy - Everlasting Enchantment

He made a good point. She turned in a circle until she found a comfortable position and sat, licking the wound on her right paw. Those claws bit deep.

When she looked up again, he had disappeared.

Millicent should have realized that the relic would take him soon. The work he’d done to make the cave a home must have taken many hours.

“So the magic man is gone, eh?”

Millicent shifted to human and turned. “Magic man?”

Nell sat up and nodded her head. “In more ways ’n one, I suspect.” She sniffed and then grimaced. “I stink.”

Millicent’s lip quirked. Leave it to Nell to get to the important things first. “There’s a pool not too far from here where the water is but warm.”

“As opposed to boiling our skin off, I suppose.” Nell rose and hobbled over to the entrance of the cave. “Although that might not be so bad. Ye know, the bastard never gave me enough water to bathe. That was worse’n the food he gave me.”

A haze of red covered Millicent’s eyes and she tamped down the fury of her cat. It took her a few moments to speak again. “Can you walk, Nell? It isn’t far.”

“Course I can. Blast, I ain’t no hothouse flower. Whichaway?”

Millicent led her down the path and through the trees to the spot she’d found when hunting. A large pool spread out and disappeared beneath an overhang of rock, only a few lazy wisps of vapor rising from the surface of the water. She helped Nell up the pitted rock sides that surrounded it, and they both slid in with all their clothes on.

They soaked for a time, just enjoying the feel of the warm water. The flowers Gareth had picked for their table grew around the pool, their pearly light dampening some of the colorful emerald glow of the surrounding forest. Unlike Gareth, Nell didn’t look one whit attractive with green-hued skin, and that red hair had combined with the emerald to make a muddy shade of yellow.

They helped each other undress and then washed their clothes as best they could, pounding and ringing the dirt from the fabric. Millicent slammed the creaky corset the duke had given her especially hard against the rocks, unconcerned about the silken sheen, only determined to make it a bit more flexible.

She envied Nell’s timeworn corset. There was an advantage to wearing cast-off clothing.

“How long we got until they find us?” asked Nell as they spread their clothing along the rock to dry as best as it could in the humid air.

“Maybe never. We’re deep into the wilds of the Underground.”

“Ach, my gel. Ghoulston won’t stop looking as long as ye wear that.”

Millicent scowled at the bracelet on her wrist. The moonstone imbedded in it winked mockingly back at her. “I should have at least a few days to figure a way to get it off.”

Nell shrugged, a myriad of wrinkles appearing with the movement. “The knight ain’t so bad, though. I could think of worse fates than bedding such a looker.”

“Not me.”

Those violet eyes studied her with unblinking intensity. “Ye won’t wind up like yer mum, Millie.”

“Hmph. You can’t know that. Once I’ve crossed that line, there’s no going back.”

“Giving up yer virginity don’t make ye a whore.”

“Are you suggesting—”

“I ain’t doing no such thing. I jest see the way ye look at him, and I don’t want ye blaming yerself if ye can’t resist him.”

Millicent climbed out of the pool. “Which would make me no better than my mother.” She swished the water off her skin with the palms of her hands. The forest didn’t seem as hot now, after her soak, but she eyed her clothes with a frown. She couldn’t put all that back on, especially if she wanted to hunt in human form.

Nell struggled into her corset, turning her back so Millicent could help her tighten the laces.

“I knew ye wouldn’t listen,” she grunted as Millicent yanked the ties. “But I think he’s a nice lad, cursed or not. Ye could do worse in a mate.”

Millicent stifled her frustration. “So let’s say I can’t resist his charms. Poof! He goes back into the relic and I never see him again. Enough, Nell. I’ll handle it my way.”

While her friend put on a thin, worn petticoat and her loose cotton dress, Millicent eyed her clothing with a scowl. She picked up a petticoat that could have served as a skirt with the quality of the fabric and began to tear out the horsehair lining that stiffened the hem. With just her chemise, corset, the petticoat, and corset cover, she’d be garbed well enough, by Underground standards.

They made their way back to the cave through glowing colors. After being in this place, the Underground would appear even more dank and gray.

“Nell?”

“Yes, luv.”

“Do you think I won’t be able to shift when I get as old as you?”

Nell looked up at her with a grimace. “Despite the red still in my hair, I’m very, very old, Mill.” The trees swayed and the fans swished above them. She sighed. “I’m not sure.”

Millicent nodded. “But it’s possible.”

“Oh, my gel, in my experience, anything is possible.”

She was waiting for him when the relic spat him forth again. Gareth studied her with appreciation while he collected his wits, which always seemed a bit scattered when he materialized from a smoky haze to solid form. She’d discarded half her clothing and looked the cooler for it. Fashions had changed over the centuries, and although he admired the gowns that made women look like delicate flowers, they had to be uncomfortable to wear. And deuced difficult to get them out of.

“I want you to teach me how to fight.”

She shouldn’t be able to surprise him. He’d known thousands of women. But this one always managed to do so. “I am at your service, my lady. But it seems that your cat knows how to use her claws.”

She shook her head, tangles of midnight hair sweeping her shoulders. “No. I want you to teach my human form how to fight.”

Gareth started to shed his clothes. This place might be beautiful, but the heat and humidity reminded him of the jungles of Mogow. He remembered their conversation about Nell being unable to shift to firebird at will, and thought he knew why Millicent had made the request. His lady did not want to have to rely upon anyone’s protection.

Now, or in the future.

He allowed his admiration for her to show in his eyes as he removed the last of his upper clothing.

“We’ll start with staffs, then I might let you work with my sword.”

She nodded as if she understood the importance he placed on his weapon.

A cackle of laughter from the depths of the cave made him realize Nell had taken a double meaning from his words. He turned and bowed to the old woman, strode over to the pallet of brush she lay upon, and took her hand. “How do you fare, my ladybird?”

“Ladybird—eh, ye’re a smooth one,” murmured Nell. “My poor gel has no chance against ye at all, does she?”

“It is my fervent desire that she does not.”

“Hmph.” She raised her voice. “Off with the two of ye, then. It’s not my idea of fun to watch two grown people whack each other senseless.”

The old woman confused him. She seemed to be sure of his failure, while at the same time aiding his cause. As if she could no more make up her mind to it than Millicent. He still felt in awe of the small woman, and the firebird she could become. He would have honored her wishes to stay away from Millicent if she had insisted.

But she did not.

Gareth bowed to her and took his leave, following the relic-holder from the cave, watching the sway of her hips with appreciation. Perhaps he might not have been able to stay away from his lady even if the firebird had insisted.

Millicent stopped at a smooth clearing of sand. He saw the strokes of a branch across the grains and realized she’d prepared this place in advance. Perhaps she was too keenly aware that he could deny her nothing.

She picked up two sturdy branches, and he recognized the spears he had made. Millicent tossed him one and held her own upright in front of her. Gareth shook his head.

“Hold it horizontal across your body, like so.” He stepped forward and took her hands, positioning the weapon correctly. It always shocked him when he touched her. A sort of shiver through his blood. “Staff work is different than real swordplay, but you must learn this first.”

She allowed him to touch her without pulling away. So, there would be an advantage to this after all. He’d never met a woman so unused to being touched, and his hopes soared that sparring with him would enable her to become accustomed to it.

If he managed to survive the day, that is. More concerned about harming her than protecting himself, she managed to bruise him more than once.

“You retain the speed and strength of your were-cat,” he panted after several hours of tutelage. “This gives you the advantage over me.”

“But not much,” said Millicent, scowling. “Not enough to beat you.” The thin skirt she wore stuck to her body with the sweat from their exertions, outlining the long length of her legs. When she turned to set down her spear, he swallowed at the sight she afforded him.

“You can’t expect to learn so much in a day, my lady. Remember, I’ve had centuries of experience.”

Millicent turned and collapsed on the sand, still breathing hard from their bout. She sat with her arms around her knees, staring off into the forest, her eyes following the movements of the multicolored mist that danced and wove through the trees.

Gareth sat beside her, shoulder to shoulder, pleased when she didn’t immediately pull away from him. The lady made such small allowances seem like a great gift. He flexed his arms, enjoying the loose feel of his muscles. It had been too long since he’d had a challenging fight. True battle left him angry and sad, but a session of strength and skill always relaxed his mind and body.