Page 66 of I Dream of Dragons
“Nothing happy about it,”he growls, a fainter version of Jai’s deep growl, and I blink.
Oh yeah, talk about grumpiness. It sends a bolt of fondness through my chest.
And I hope he feels it.
I shake my head, still smiling, and stumble. The world returns into focus with a violent lurch, but a hand on my arm stops me from falling.
“Lady Rae? Are you all right?” Arkin asks.
“What is it?” I become aware of Arkin sliding his other hand to the small of my back, guiding me forward. “Aren’t we going to the banquet?”
“In a moment. As it turns out, the telchin wants to speak with you.”
Oh, just great.
I’ve been dreading the banquet. I’ve been feeding my impatience for all of it to be over before it even starts so I can talk to the king again… and here I am, about to waste time talking to the telchin.
We follow a manservant down another winding corridor, and I swear I’ve never been on this side of the palace before. Is mymemory playing tricks on me? I know there are spells on certain parts of the palace. Is this one of them?
Telchins are not humans, though they look just the same. They man the openings between the worlds, the gates and passages, and the cracks in the earth and firmaments through which souls and creatures may pass.
This telchin, though, the priest manning the temple at the center of this world, is a pawn and a mouthpiece for the fae. A juggler and circus man. As you can tell, I’m still not convinced this priest is a real telchin. He’s probably just a human with some magic, disguised as a telchin, pretending to be one.
Still, when we enter a hall with a roaring fire and find him waiting there for me, I have to swallow down nerves and a sense of apprehension. I haven’t done anything wrong, anything to be punished for, but the priest is an imposing figure in his embroidered dark robes, emphasizing his height and the breadth of his shoulders, the intensity of his gaze and those rivers of dark curls and beard.
A fatherly figure, I suppose.
A godly figure.
He seems so much larger when he isn’t standing next to Jai’s tall, muscular frame.
“She is supposed to be at the banquet right now, holy telchin,” Arkin begins, bowing stiffly from the shoulders, the wings swinging sideways, “so we’d appreciate it if you kept this meeting brief. His Majesty?—”
The telchin dismisses him with a mere flicker of his eyes. “Wait outside, guard.”
With a huff Arkin goes, leaving me alone with this creature. Suddenly I’m not so sure he’s an impostor anymore. I can almost taste his power, a tingle on the tip of my tongue, a shiver in my bones.
“The Lady of the darakin,” the telchin mutters, sounding annoyed.
I’m tempted to remind him that he’s the one who requested my presence.
“When the old dragon falls through the firmament,” he’s muttering now, “it will be time. She has a mark, he has an echo. The eye that hasn’t opened. The Pillar shall slow down its endless rotation…”
It reminds me of Jai when Phaethon suddenly takes over. When it feels as if I’m eavesdropping on a conversation with a ghost.
“What did you want with me?” I interrupt his mutterings.
His gaze swings back to me, narrowing. “I want to tell you a story,” he says, and I blink in confusion. “Take a seat.”
“A story?Now?Like Arkin said, I’m supposed to be attending the banquet with?—”
“The king. Yes, I know. Sit.”
So I sit, arranging my skirt around me so I don’t tear it. A gown the king sent me, diamonds he arranged for me to wear. The thought of him waiting in the formal banquet hall and not finding me there fills me with a weird sort of dread—not so much regarding his wrath but much more about the delay in talking to him.
Earlier he didn’t seem eager to share any real information with you.
It doesn’t matter. He was right. We were together a long, long time ago. He needs time, like I do, to open up again.
