Kathryne Kennedy - Everlasting Enchantment

But Gareth had already forgotten Parsnip, his attention focused back on the fireplace, and the nest burning inside. White smoke curled up the chimney, snaking tendrils of scent into the room, a smell so powerful, Gareth thought he could almost see it. Touch it. He grew dizzy once again, his entire being suffused with the combined aroma of the spices. He never would have thought mere scent could have such an effect upon him. But this was more than smell. It held a power beyond that of mere magic.

The fire roiled with a dizzying kaleidoscope of color: blues, greens, lavenders, and reds, darker shades of indigo, crimson, and emerald. The branches of the nest formed a halo around the center where Nell’s ashes lay, and for a moment—a breath of time—Gareth thought he glimpsed the shape of a beak, a long elegant tail of feathers.

His heart rose into his throat. He had wanted Nell to return for Millicent, but realized for the first time how much he had missed her as well. Gareth stumbled forward, bracing himself against the heat of the blaze. “Ladybird?”

And then the fire folded in on itself, and his vision blurred.

When he could see once again, the blaze had dwindled to a low flame along the curve of the branches, only a soft glow of white within the nest.

“Ladybird?” he repeated.

The cavernous room stilled, only the soft crackle of burning wood breaking the silence. Gareth waited, staring at the glowing orb in the middle of the nest.

And waited.

And waited.

“It did not work,” Gareth finally said, his voice cracking on his last word. He should have known. He had thought the appearance of Parsnip, and his knowledge of how to build the nest, had been a sign from fate that he would succeed in his task. But now he knew it had been a slim hope, just wishful thinking on his part. Ah, how he wished he could have brought Nell back for Millicent. How he wished he could have healed the shape-shifter’s heart.

How he wished he could have seen that delicate, wrinkled face once more.

He turned and looked down, but Parsnip had disappeared. He could not ask the hobgoblin what they might do next. What they might have done wrong.

But Gareth supposed it did not matter. He would not be given a second chance.

Millicent stared through the glass panes of the enormous mansion, trying to understand what Gareth was doing. At first she thought he might be speaking to himself, but then she spied a small creature standing near him. The little man had a tail, and rounded features, and a mischievous grin. She could not imagine where Gareth had found the thing, or what they could possibly be discussing.

She swished her tail, paced in front of the double doors. Her journey to Ipswitch had been uneventful—save for the herd of cows, and then unicorns, she had spooked once or twice. She had avoided the roads, using them only as guides, and had traveled mostly at night, her dark fur forcing her to stay to the shadows of the woods within the daytime.

The sun had shone for the few days she had traveled, in a bright sky that seemed too far above her to be real. The wide-open spaces of the moors had made her fur prickle with discomfort, and yet… there had been something intoxicating about padding through tall fields of corn, skulking in grass, and stalking dinner in bushes. The were-cat inside her had often prompted her to run through meadows for no reason other than to glory in the joy of it.

While Millicent had glared suspiciously at every hedgerow and woodland, her beast had purred with a quiet contentment, as if some ancient memory of a habitat she had once thrived in had suddenly awoken.

An owl hooted off in the distance, and Millicent lowered to a crouch, staring off into the deepening night. She stood on a large balcony one story above the ground. She had prowled around the stone building for hours, sniffing for a scent of Gareth, but too many other smells had interfered with her search. Clean smells, foreign to her nose. But then a strong, spicy scent had reached her, and she had seen the light above her shining from the double doors of the balcony.

And had spied Gareth within the enormous room.

And now stood dithering outside it.

Millicent took a breath, and shifted to human. She spread her hands, loosened her shoulders, glanced down, and smoothed the folds of the bronze gown. She had not resumed her human shape for days, for it was easier and safer to travel in her were-form.

Millicent had no idea if she looked a fright or not.

She smoothed her hair, adjusted the silly hat on her head. She should be grateful the magic of her transformation kept her clothing on her; otherwise, she would be standing here naked.

Stop, it, Millicent. You are stalling. Now that the time has come, you’re afraid to face him, aren’t you?

She reached out and tried the door. At first the handle seemed to be locked, but when she jiggled it a bit, she heard a faint click. Millicent took a breath, gave it a push, and stepped into the room.

And nearly swooned from the smell.

A scent stronger than the underground rivers at low tide, but with a completely opposite aroma. Spicy, heady, sweet, and glorious. What on earth had Gareth been burning inside that fireplace?

He sat on a velvet fainting couch he had dragged from across the room, based on the skid marks on the wooden floor. The small creature with the curious tail had vanished. Gareth stared into the glowing flames of the fireplace, muted now to a soft, pearly light. The light danced on the sharp planes of his face, on his full lips and round eyes. But those eyes held a bleakness Millicent had never seen before, and a tightness about his mouth spoke of a forlornness that tugged at her heart. His golden hair looked unkempt, as if he had run his fingers through it so many times he had worried out the curls. He wore a smart coat, and equally smart trousers, with a brocade waistcoat and a clean white cravat. Every bit the English aristocrat the queen had made him.

Millicent missed his woolen hose and loosely woven tunic.

She took a step toward him, her skirts making a whisper of sound on the floor.

He looked up. Met her eyes.

And held Millicent transfixed for an eternity.

How could she define the bond between them? How could she have known how special this feeling was? She did not chide herself for a fool. It had taken her some time to open her heart, and she had needed that time. But she would not allow anything to stand between them now.

Not her fear. Nor any fey magic. Not even Gareth himself.

Millicent took a deep breath and then asked, “Will you ever forgive me?”

He blinked. “For what?”

“For breaking my promise to you.” She took another few steps closer to him. “For taking so long to see the truth between us.”

He set aside the cane he had been gripping in his hands and rose, but did not approach her. When he spoke, his voice was low, his words barely crossing the distance between them. “What truth is that, Millicent?”

He said her name like a benediction, like a caress. Millicent took another few steps toward him, as if some magical tether gently pulled her to him without a conscious thought of her own. “That we… you know I am not good with words, Gareth. Not like you. You come from a time where ballads and poetry were recited every day…”

Gareth crossed strong arms over his broad chest, and raised his brows. So, then. He would not allow her to excuse herself from answering.

“We are… one soul. Together.” Millicent continued to walk toward him, trying very hard to put her feelings into words. “I did not know I needed anyone. I did not know I needed to be a better person, or that someone could manage even to make it so. I did not know I needed you, until you came into my life and changed everything.”

He just stood there in silence, staring at her. But the expression in his pale blue eyes… the sadness began to fade.

Millicent tried harder. She owed him that. She owed him everything. If necessary, she would spend her entire life composing ballads to him, if it made up for the pain she had caused. “You make me feel whole. You bring such goodness and light to my life. To my heart. You are the sun to my moon, and the moon to my stars…”

His lips twitched, and he could not suppress a smile. Millicent had the feeling he worked very hard not to burst into laughter.

A growl of annoyance shivered up her throat. “Well, I shall never make it as a poet; that is obvious. But it is the best I can do, Gareth.”

She stood near enough to touch him now, right in front of the massive fireplace. The scent of the burning wood made her head spin. Or perhaps it was just his nearness.

“Millicent.” He closed the distance between them. “Do you love me with all your heart, dearest? That is all you need to say.”

He touched her cheek with his hand, and she closed her eyes and leaned into the embrace. “Yes, Gareth Solimere. I love you with all my heart… a heart that can never be whole without you.”

She heard his breath hitch, felt his arms encircle her. “I love you too, dearest she-cat. I think I have from the moment you put Merlin’s bracelet on your wrist.”

And then his lips met hers, and Millicent’s knees went weak, and she leaned into him for support while he kissed her breath away. She would have stayed like that forever, caught up in his embrace, but a sudden flare of light lit her lids, and her eyes flew open.

Gareth turned his head to stare in amazement at the fireplace, and she followed his gaze.