Page 65 of Straw and Gold
My name meant mushroom. Our mother had told Korven and me this, but we never bothered asking in which language or evenwhy. Instead, he nicknamed me “Little Fungi,” bringing out the moniker when I did something he found particularly humorous because who names their daughter after such a thing?
I held in my squeal, kicking my feet and covering my mouth.
This was it. Killian said I had all I needed to guess his name. He said I knew it. Intimately. He must have meant because it was a variation of my own.
I took a deep breath, leaning down to kiss the top of his head again and again. He stirred, but I soothed him back to sleep. I wouldn’t be able to say his true name until morning anyway and it was best I kept it to myself. I could just see it—in the morning, we’d be ready. I’d shout his name across the valley below us and his power would return. Maybe Céad would finally show her face and congratulate us both. Maybe we’d shift right then, finding ourselves in front of Seraphine and Korven’s door and he’d transform her into fae. Forestfae, I’d imagine, considering her upbringing and considering his own.
If Seraphine was Forestfae, she’d be able to shift through the trees and travel would be trivial for visits. They could arrive for solstices and birthdays. I breathed a sigh. I’d never miss one of my niece's birthdays. Ever. They could bring her for visits, they could drop her off and Killian and I could keep her here, giving Korven and Seraphine time to themselves. And when Killian and I had our own children, we could?—
“What has you smiling like that, Moh Dhóches?”
His voice was gravelly as he blinked up at me, head still resting on my belly.
I bit my lip in my grin, shaking my head. “Shhh. Sleep, husband. I’ll tell you in the morning.”
CHAPTER 32
Killian
My wife hummed in excitement—likeI’d never seen before, she bloomed in smiles as we readied in the early hours before dawn, headed to the cliffside. I suspected I knew why but I wouldn’t allow myself too much hope. Hope was the first step to disappointment.
I asked if she was ready and she jumped into my arms, kissing me hard, like we had more time to explore than we did. I held her close, backing up into the door carved in forests and moss and mushrooms. We shifted together just like that, our mouths pressed tight, my arms wrapped around her as we left the line of trees before the Citrine Cliffs, the sun already beginning her glint across the crystals embedded into the rocky hills.
“I love you,” she whispered and then left my arms, gathering her saffron gold skirts in her hands and half running, half flying to the sharp edge. I followed as fast as I could, but after all of her strengthening, I had to admit, she was quicker than me now.
I arrived just after her before the sun hit that line I stayed behind and I heard her deep intake of breath before she bellowed across the cliffs.
“MORELLI!”
The Céaduah word formushroomechoed throughout the canyon, disturbing the peaceful morning with what I could only name as my wife’s brilliance.
I shoved my hands in my pocket, tears pricking in my eyes as I swallowed hard, biting back the lump in my throat, overcome with how perfect she was for me.
Goddessdamn me, I’d never love another.
She stilled, tilting her head and glancing back at me. Then, several times more, she repeated the word, changing the pronunciation slightly each time, waiting for something to happen—some glorious sign that she’d done what no other could.
When it was clear she had failed, that same disappointing betrayal of hope hit her, and she sank to the ground, folding her legs and hanging her head in her hands.
I crossed the line, letting the creeping sun rise on my face, not giving a damn about waiting for the full brilliance of dawn. I sat behind her, placing her on my lap and wrapping my arms around her shaking body.
“I-I thought I had it,” she whimpered, turning and falling into my chest. “I thought because you said I have everything I need and that I know your name intimately, that I had found it.” She wiped her nose on my shirt and I pressed her closer. “Morella is a feminine take on mushroom and I just…”
“Morella,” I began, sweeping a hand over her hair. “My Goldling, I thank whatever Goddess it was who tethered us together because you are my match. My partner. My fate, and this brilliant mind of yours is what I love most.” I kissed her gently. “You still have time?—”
“Five weeks, Killian!” she burst angrily. “Little more than a month, my sister will die in what? Forty years? If she’s lucky to even make it that far?” Sobs wracked her again. “And you? You’ll just have to live like this. Céad could take all of your magic if shewanted without your bargain. If I fail, she could banish you or steal you from me and I can’t?—”
“Shh,” I cooed, pulling her back into my arms. My chest ached. She hadn’t guessed that Céad would do far worse than that. “We have time, Moh Dhóches. We have time.”
She lifted her head once more, fire in her golden eyes, more brilliant than the morning’s rays as they glinted off the pillars of Citrine. “Iwilldo this, Killian. I know it. I will save both of you.”
“I believe you, Goldling,” I whispered back, wiping her cheek. “I believe you.”
CHAPTER 33
Morella
The castle hummedwith an unease that drifted through the halls. I tasted it in the food. I heard it in the hushed whispers. Something was changing and the Changelingfae of the Citrine Cliffs were aware of its looming presence.
