Page 31 of Straw and Gold
“Follow this tunnel. There’s more you need to see.”
I did exactly as he said, shuffling through the tunnel which narrowed as I walked, still providing thousands of books in varying subjects. Some I could see were written in Céaduah and I wondered just how much history of the Changelingfae people was hidden underneath their kingdom’s castle.
I must have voiced that last part out loud, because he answered with a low grumble. “Some of these books date all the way back to Céad’s arrival on Revelry from the Veil.”
I turned to him, pressing the two books tightly to my chest. “Can I come here whenever I’d like?”
He nodded, stepping closer, the amber glow of the crystals illuminating the red of his hair and casting a golden glow over his clean-shaven face. I allowed myself to stare. He did the same as we studied each other in the soft light.
Down here, we were just two people who had met two weeks ago.
Down here, we were teacher and student.
Down here, there was no bargain or pressure on the both of us to come together in marriage. Down here it was just him. It was just me.
I stepped forward and held out my hand between us. “If we had met any other way, I would have wanted to know you.”
Something ticked in his jaw and his face hardened.
I continued, pushing out my hand further. “My name is Morella. It’s nice to meet you, Killian.”
He laughed, relaxing his shoulders and slid his hand in mine. “Morella,” he spoke in a low voice, smooth as silk. “It’s nice to meet you, too.”
CHAPTER 18
Killian
Gold-tipped wings.
A penchant for speaking her mind.
A cleverness I’d still not seen the full depths of.
A dark red dress that I’d married her in.
A talent for spinning straw into gold—this woman had cut through more than I’d let her know.
And following her now through the citrine library, I felt that burst of hope I hadn’t allowed in a decade.
The morning light brightened her way and she stepped out of the crystal tunnel, clutching her books to her chest. She shielded the sun from her eyes and gasped at the sight.
The Citrine Cliffs lived up to their name. We stood on a sharp precipice overlooking a vast escarpment, long and narrow in the valley below. The natural amber crystals jutted from the steep plateaus and reflected in the morning sun, glinting light that pirouetted through the cliffside.
“Killian…” she started, her eyes bright, her mouth agape, “it’s incredible!” She laughed and placed her hand on my forearm, just as she’d done that morning after our wedding. “Thank you.”
Her eyes filled with the golden light of a happiness I’d not felt in years.
“Do you see that grove of trees there?” I pointed across the expanse of land below us to a small crop of trees growing across the canyon.
She nodded and I continued. “Can you meet me there? There’s something else I need to show you.”
Her face fell, but she recovered quickly and nodded again. I took my place at the gnarled tree growing along the side of our cliff and shifted through the wood, sifting through many trees until I walked through the one I needed at the cliffside.
I could see her form in contrast to the golden crystals behind her, far across the valley. In truth, I could have shifted through the trees with her wrapped in my arms, but decided against it for two reasons.
One, I wanted to see her golden raven form.
Two, I didn’t want to touch her more than necessary.
