A Shiver of Light
Page 67

“We don’t think it’s safe that the princess be here with Aisling,” Saraid said.
Galen grinned then. “She’s safe enough.”
“I think it’s careless,” Saraid said.
“If you’re in love, really in love, then Aisling’s magic has no power over you,” Galen said.
“The princess told us the old wives’ tale about true love keeping you safe from him,” Saraid said.
“Meredith said that Saraid, you, and she would be safe,” Dogmaela said. She’d wiped quickly at her face, and turned a stony, unreadable face to us, though she was as careful as Saraid not to look toward the practice area.
Galen drew me into his arms, grinning wider. “Then the three of us are safe as houses, but Dogmaela might want to go somewhere else.”
She nodded. “I will, with Meredith’s permission. I have not even an old wives’ tale to keep me safe from the Terrible Beauty of him.”
Aisling had once been called Terrible Beauty, though the Gaelic equivalent of it, and since I didn’t know what country Aisling had started out in, I didn’t know what his original Gaelic name had been. Saying Gaelic was almost like saying Romance language; some were so different from each other.
“You may go, Dogmaela; I think I’m safe enough.” I knew I was smiling, and it was my own version of that stupid-faced, I’m-so-in-love smile.
She darted a glance at Galen, me, and then finally at Saraid. “Are you sure you want to stay?”
Saraid shook her head. “No, I’m not, I …” She glanced at me and then back to her sister guard. There was something close to pain on her face.
“Go, Saraid,” I said. “Go if being near Aisling makes you this uncomfortable.”
“It’s okay,” Galen said, his face sober, worried even. “Merry is in good hands.” He hugged me closer to him, and I wrapped my arms around the slim smoothness of his waist.
“I just don’t want you to think I hold my personal safety above that of the princess. I would lay down my life for her.”
“I believe that, Saraid,” Galen said. “We both do, but this is not life and death.”
“You’re dismissed, Saraid, Dogmaela; now go with my blessing,” I said.
“And mine, if it matters,” Galen said.
“It matters,” Dogmaela said, smiling, a little sadly.
She and Saraid exchanged another glance; then they bowed, arms crossing their chests so their hands rested over their hearts, turned, and left.
“Why do they do that, touching their hearts, do you know?” I asked.
“It was Cel’s idea, to show that he owned not just their bodies but their hearts.”
I looked up at him and must have looked as horrified as I felt.
He hugged me tight against the front of his body, and I pressed my cheek against the warmth of his chest and wrapped my arms tight around his waist, holding on.
“I’m so glad you killed Cel,” Galen whispered against my hair.
“So am I,” I said, breathing in the scent of his skin and the slight dew of sweat, but it wasn’t a masculine smell, it was almost like sweet cut grass.
“Now if you could just kill a few more of your relatives, we could live in peace.”
“The queen is behaving herself,” I said.
“All right, just one of your relatives then,” he said.
I drew back enough to look up into his face. “Since when did you get so bloodthirsty?”
He smiled, but his green eyes were empty of it. “When he hurt you, and then when he tried to sue for visitation rights with our babies. He needs to be dead.”
I hugged him as tight as I could, gazing up at him, studying his face. I didn’t know why, but I was suddenly frightened for him. “Promise me you won’t do anything foolish, Galen.”
“I’m your bodyguard; it’s my job to keep you safe. I’m the father of your children, and a husband in all but name; that gives me all the right I need to do anything to protect or avenge you, my Merry.”
“If the king tries to kidnap me again, then do whatever you can, or want, but just promise me you won’t go off and try to beard the tyrant in his lair, so to speak?”
He kissed me, and I kissed him back, but I studied his face as he drew back from it. “Galen, promise me.”
He smiled at me, fingers tracing the edge of my cheek. “I can’t.”
“Don’t get hurt, or worse, please, Galen. I’ve lost enough people in my life, all right?”
He hugged me tight again, and gave me a little shake. “I love you, Merry, and I love our children. I want to be here for you and them.”
“Then don’t do anything stupid, okay?”
“Me, stupid?” He gave me that look that was charming and self-deprecating, and in that moment I didn’t trust it at all. I was suddenly so afraid for him that my chest was tight with it, as if I couldn’t breathe past it.
“Remember, I don’t want you to die for me, Galen; I want you to live for me.”
He grinned. “I already live for you.”
I would have pushed it, but Doyle yelled a warning, and Galen took me to the ground with him on top of me. I got a glimpse as I was falling backward of one of the Red Caps flying over us, tumbling through the air, before Galen’s chest blocked my view of everything.
 
 
CHAPTER
THIRTY
 
 
I COULD FEEL Galen’s heart pounding underneath my hand where it was trapped against his bare chest, as his arms wrapped me close, pressing me between his body and the rough grass, his body a shield to protect me. I knew it was his job, but in that moment all I could think was, if he actually gave his life for mine, I wasn’t sure I’d ever recover from the loss.
His chest filled my vision; I could see nothing but the edges of grass and sun haloing us. I felt him move and knew he was looking around. What was happening?
I heard voices yelling, “Is she all right? Merry! Is she hurt?” I felt and heard people running toward us. Funny how much you could feel vibrating through the ground when you were lying on it.
A deep rumbling voice said, “Don’t worry about me, I’m fine.”
Galen got to his feet and helped me stand. There were enough Red Caps standing around that they put us in the shade as if a grove of small trees had magically sprung up around us. Doyle was there, taking my other arm, while Galen still held me.
“Are you hurt?”
“No, startled, that’s all.” I looked at him, knew something was different, and then realized the white tank top had been badly ripped down the front, so that it flapped around him as he moved.
“No one gives a tinker’s damn if a goblin gets hurt, it’s all about the sidhe.” It was the Red Cap that I’d seen go overhead. He was only about nine feet tall, with skin a deep charcoal gray setting off the scarlet of his eyes like rubies. His face was smooth and strangely pleasant, and though his mouth was almost lipless, it wasn’t a bad mouth. Considering all the Red Caps had once had a mouth full of jagged teeth, or even fangs, it was a very good mouth indeed. His round skullcap was almost black.
“Hello, Talan,” I said.
His brilliant red eyes narrowed. “I would not have been thrown so, before your magic changed me.”