Ch 4: Depth
Ana felt so stupid—they were almost to the inn that Felix had been leading her to when she had screamed his name. She could have just pushed him out of the way, and gotten the same point across. No, she had to bellow his name and completely destroy her cover. She didn't blame him if he was pissed. Glancing over at the painfully handsome man sprinting at her side, Ana could clearly see his clenched jaw and narrowed eyes. Yep, totally livid. She was lucky he hadn't just abandoned her at the gate and made a break for it.
The Arsalans were right behind them, and a little blood-thirsty if their shouts were anything to measure their emotions by. Felix's trick with the horses had been clever, and would have worked beautifully if that soldier hadn't pulled a gun on them. Really, shooting someone just because your horse dumped you. Childish, and vengeful. Men like that were something to be more than wary of.
Ana was grateful for the morning runs she regularly indulged in as they twisted and turned down the side alleys—after this distance at their present speed, anyone else would have started wheezing. A stitch was gnawing at her side, but Ana bore down, clutching tighter on Felix's hand. Suddenly, Felix tugged her into a small alcove that burrowed into the side of the bakery next to the inn. He pulled her in tight, waving a hand across the opening. The Arsalans thundered past, slowing right at the alcove's mouth. Ana pulled in tighter to Felix's side despite the scream her ribs gave, pressing her eyes closed as she prayed Felix wouldn't push her out into the street as punishment for earlier.
He surprised her when he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and held her tight, whispering gently in her ear, "Easy, Ana. Almost there." Saliva clogged the back of her throat when she felt his hard chest against her back and toned arm rounding her shoulder, the contours of muscle as clear as the heat he pumped out through their layers of clothes. Swallowing hard, Ana reclaimed her focus. The Arsalans slowly started to converge back into a group once they had ascertained that Felix and Ana were nowhere to be found, close enough to the hidden pair that Ana could clearly hear what they were saying and see the sweat dribbling down their brows.
"We couldn't catch the wizard, sir. He might have taken the girl back into the forest," one of the men huffed at his superior. The man who had interrogated Felix narrowed his eyes with a low growl, and Ana swallowed a gasp when he looked directly at the alcove. Terrified that he would see them, Ana froze, certain that the light would catch the gleam of their eyes.
"Well, if the wizard and the girl don't show up within a day, we'll burn this village to the ground. Come on, we'd best report back to Lady Sylvia." The Arsalans trundled off to catch their horses and return to their camp. As they turned the corner back onto the main street, Ana released the breath she was holding, tumbling out of the alcove. Felix followed—however, his exit from the cramped space was a little more graceful, sliding out of the shadows with all the sinewy grace of a panther. His misty sapphire eyes followed the Arsalans' progress intently before turning them on Ana.
"Come on," he murmured, again taking Ana's hand as he led her out of the alleys and around the back of the inn. He stopped just short of the kitchen door, looking up at the second level windows. Ana was about to say something when he murmured, "Hold on tight," before wrapping his arm around her waist and leaping straight up into the air. His behavior was strange, but Ana was all the more perplexed when she rose straight into the air with a rush of wind, tight at Felix's side, as if they weighed as much a pair of birds. Ana couldn't help but wince as her ribs protested Felix's tight hold. She had experienced quite enough flying for one day, and had to press her lips tight to keep the whimper in her stomach, unaware of how the muscles in the hand holding Felix's convulsed. They rose straight to the second level, slowing to end up level with one of the windows to a room—Ana assumed it was Felix's. She was just about to point out the fact that the stingy window had no chance of fitting the both of them when Felix released her hand to draw a small pattern in the air in front of them.
The window warped, lengthening and groaning till it was about the size of a doorway. They landed lightly on the sill, and Felix casually pushed the window open as if it were a normal entrance. Ana stumbled inside on shaky knees, glancing back in time to see Felix glide through, turning to close their make-shift door. After he brushed back the midnight hair falling into his bright eyes, Felix again turned his powerful gaze to Ana.
Striding close, he murmured, "You don't need this anymore," as he passed ghostly fingertips over Ana's shoulders, the cloak disappearing into thin air much as it had appeared. "I have something to take care of. Once I get back, we'll deal with those ribs of yours." Felix studied Ana for a moment before straightening his waistcoat, spinning on his heel back to the window.
Just as he yanked the old, rain-warped window open, Ana blurted out, "I'm sorry, Felix," in an almost desperate tone. He paused, glancing back with a bemused expression on his face.
"Whatever for, Ana?" Somehow, his cool, puzzled tone made Ana feel all the worse. He was helping her, and all she had done was wreck the spell that had kept her hidden and get him shot at.
"For…earlier," she managed lamely. His expression didn't clear into cold understanding, however, and Ana grit her teeth as she staggered into an explanation. "If I had just kept my mouth shut, the Arsalans wouldn't even know I'm with you, and—"
"Ana," Felix interrupted, holding up one long, artful hand to stop her tirade. A small part of her was relieved he didn't use his mouth like last time. Balances in her soul were still reeling from that little episode earlier, and who knew what that kind of contact would do to her a second time. "I can hardly blame you for saving my life earlier. You did what was necessary—if the spell was sacrificed to achieve your goal, so be it. I may have lost the element of ambiguity, but I've gained something else."
"What's that?" Ana queried, slowly relaxing into the concept that Felix didn't want to throw her to the Lady Witch's hounds.
"Faith in you," he said shortly before leaping out the window. It crinkled close like tightened skin, and Ana was left alone, a little shocked and very relieved. And deep down, a small kernel of pride glowed like the setting sun outside. It had been a very long time since anyone had explicitly expressed faith and trust in her. Ana found that she missed the feeling. She strode to the window, peering through the shutters as Felix landed softly, jogging lightly to the front of the building with an almost animalistic grace. Ana didn't really know what he was up to, but trusted that whatever Felix intended to do, he had a reason, and he would be back soon. Unsure what to do with herself, Ana glanced around the simply furnished room, trying to glean some sort of clue about her mysterious rescuer.
The man's possessions were few; it would seem that all he had with him fit into a small pack dumped at the foot of the narrow bed. Ana couldn't quite bring herself to rifle through it, but her eye was caught by the long black cloak draped over the rough-hewn chair seated at the cramped writing desk banished to the corner of the room. Fairly certain that Felix wouldn't object, Ana hesitantly crossed the room, running careful fingers over the thick, well-worked cloth that was a strange mix of cotton and suede. She hefted it high, sighing in appreciation at the lovely cobalt silk lining. Looking closely, she could see that the lining was actually embroidered with thread the same color as the background.
Stars, moons, flames, dragons, and more all swirled over what seemed acres of fabric. Ana had to hold the cloak high to clear the floor—she was a tall woman, right around 1.75 meters tall. But Felix was easily taller than her, and the sensation of being shorter than others was not one Ana was familiar with. Yet for all his height, Felix was slimly built, his hips and waist lean while there was a depth of strength in his chest and shoulders. Not to mention those legs that went clear up to his ears.
Ana tried not to dwell on the beauty of her ally—it made her stomach quiver, and she had other things to worry about. She draped the cloak back across the chair, smoothing its folds with a thoughtful hand. Ana was just about to start pacing when she heard a scratching at the window. Her eyes flew to the glass panes, thinking perhaps Felix was trying to get back in. But instead of a handsome man with Black Irish colors looking in, a huge spotted cat was settling his wide rump patiently on the narrow sill. There was an edge of wildness about him that made Ana think perhaps he was a stray. He looked at her with indulgent gold eyes, shaking his head impatiently when she stood rooted by the desk.
It was when he shook his head that Ana noticed the worn leather collar rounding his thick neck. Not a stray after all. Maybe his collar would reveal something about who his owner was. Ana unlatched the window with some difficulty, the large cat slipping through a surprisingly small opening. He landed with a heavy thud at her feet, winding around her ankles like a heavy snake while she could feel the vibration of his purring in her stomach. Kneeling down, Ana scratched the cat's thick jaw while she searched for the tag gleaming faintly among the ivory fur around his neck.
"Sierge," she murmured to herself as she moved her hand from the cat's jaw to behind his ears. Arching his back briefly, he twisted and flopped heavily on the ground, exposing his soft belly for attention. Ana's hand was outstretched when she noticed the dragon bracelet gleaming on her left wrist. Remembering suddenly how this whole episode began, Ana scooped up the heavy Sierge, who went willingly like an infant, and headed to the tall-backed chair facing the cold hearth. Settling in with the heavy feline in her lap, Ana withdrew the letter from the pocket of her sweatshirt. Glancing briefly at the cat, who was gazing at her with knowing eyes, she turned her attention back to the letter; opening its heavy folds, she began to read.
My dearest Ana,
This letter will no doubt reach you long after I am gone. Attached to this message and the bracelet it entails is a spell. Yes, a spell. One that will take you far from the world you know and into a realm the likes of which you never could have imagined. Because I am not only Jason O'Neill. I don't only work for Alabaster Publishing, and I'm not just a husband and a father living in London, England. I am a wizard. A dimension wizard to be exact. That may not mean much to you, but simply I am traveler across bounds much more vast than a single world. This may be hard to understand, and I don't blame your instinctive denial. But you must understand that when I send you to this world, it is to protect you.
My supposed death was no accident—I am being hunted for the power I wield, and I couldn't involve you and your mother in my mistakes. So I took the path of a coward, and abandoned you. I have regretted nothing in my life more than that day, but I know that it was for the best. Besides, you were getting too old for my stories, anyway. My Anastasia, I know it is a lot to ask, but you must believe. Every tale I've told you, every rambling about Kingsbury and Porthaven and my good friend Master Howl—they're all true. I don't know when this will reach you exactly, so I don't know how much you'll remember. But understand that many dangers lie in this world—but far few than the amount waiting in the wings of the world you've left behind. Things may have changed since my last visit to Howl's realm, but in this world live the only people I would entrust the care of my most precious treasure to—the treasure of my daughter and her safety.
The bracelet in this letter was made for you by Howl at your birth. He sent it in a crossing, much like the method of how you arrived in Howl's world, when he caught wind of the birth of Anastasia. It was not too long after the birth of his own son, I believe. It is your talisman, the focus of all your powers. It is not awakened yet, and it won't be until your own powers are awakened. It will take time, and training. Both of which you have in this world. But understand that you do have power. Great wells of it, if your lineage is anything to gauge it by. You are a witch, my Anastasia, one of great potential and strength. It is time that you unlocked those doors leading to your spirit. I only wish I could be there when you do it.
All of my love forever,
Your father,
Jason O'Neill, the Dimension Wizard
Ana's fingers went limp on the paper. She looked up blindly at the dark hearth in front of her, the hand stroking Sierge's spine going still. This was just…impossible.
Thoughts started to tumble through Ana's head with faster and faster speed, a whirlwind starting to scream. Everything Ana had ever learned, ever believed was bucking frantically against the information her father was laying at her feet. She wanted to believe him—she truly did. But what he said was just unfathomable. A witch? Her? Was he insane?
No, Ana realized, her father wasn't insane. Hadn't she watched a man heal the wounds on her face with nothing more than a touch? Hadn't that same man conjured an invisibility spell out of thin air, then dismissed it with the same easy touch? And no matter how jumpy the horses were in disposition, a simple wave of the hand wasn't enough to send a whole team into a frenzy. Felix's actions before her very eyes were proof enough that her father hadn't been playing a cruel joke on his daughter. Besides, he had never been the type.
And if her father wasn't insane, Ana realized, then he must be alive. She was just wrestling with this concept when the door of the room opened briskly. Ana wouldn't have been torn out of her reverie if Sierge's heavy weight hadn't left her lap as the large cat leapt heavily to the floor at the sound of Felix's voice. Ana shot to her feet, wrestling the heavy letter back into the pocket of her sweatshirt and tugging her sleeve down to cover the bracelet. She didn't know why she hid the objects that had instigated her journey, but Ana was certain that she had enough to deal with right now—her father's questionable claim that she was a witch couldn't be a prime concern.
"Don't worry, I'll be down to drink that mug of ale. As soon as I clean up a little, I'll join you and drink you all under the table!" Felix jokingly called from the doorway as he backed in, talking to someone Ana couldn't see. Moving away from the chair, Ana stopped by a small table, hoping that her face was smooth. Sierge silently slipped through Felix's ankles, strutting out of the room on his merry way. Shutting the door, Felix leaned back against it, a small sigh easing through his lips as he caught Ana's gaze with wry eyes. She hadn't noticed it before, but fatigue was starting to carve moons of darkness under Felix's cobalt eyes.
"The innkeeper is determined to intoxicate me this evening as a reward for my dealings with the Arsalans today. Apollo isn't exactly popular in these provinces," he said as he pushed away from the door, shrugging out of his coat and waistcoat with tired movements, moving a little stiffly with his right shoulder. Ana wondered if he had injured it at some point today. She had never noticed him taking a blow. Perhaps he had hurt it when he had broken her fall.
"Why is that?" Ana queried as she wandered closer. With the adrenaline starting to fade, Ana's ribs were starting to throb; she tried somewhat unsuccessfully to keep it from showing on her face. However, instead of immediately answering her, Felix strode to the desk, pulling the chair out and gesturing for her to take a seat.
"Are you wearing another shirt under that tunic?" he asked as Ana hesitantly seated herself on the chair diagonally, her heart suddenly lodging itself rather thoroughly in her throat.
"Yeah," she managed to say. Catching the implication of his question, Ana ripped off her sweatshirt, careful to keep the heavy parchment from crinkling. Ana tried to calm herself, having a hard time combating the nerves chasing each other across her skin. The last time Felix had healed her, she had been dog-paddling through a mist of pain and still scrambling to remember her own name. This time, Ana was fully aware of the intimidatingly beautiful man kneeling at her feet, looking at her with those intent, tired eyes. At this rate, her throat was going to seal itself shut.
"Just relax, Ana," he said softly as he carefully lifted the edge of her t-shirt above the bruising that was starting to coalesce on her left side. Felix must have sensed the shivers trying to emerge in her hands, and started talking in that same smooth voice he'd used when he had healed her face.
"Apollo is advisor to the King, and since the end of the war almost two decades ago and her mother's death, she's been doing her best to revive the Kingsbury coffers. As a result, she's ruthlessly backed several tax bills that have struck hard at the strength of small towns such as Luxton. The king is something of an idiot—he'd rather be out hunting with his hounds. Instead, the man who's little more than a boy is stuck in meetings to discuss the barely water-tight economy of his country. So he did what he thought was best—he hired a wolf of impressive lineage that he already knew well and could be confident that she would take the weight of decision well off his broad shoulders. I suppose Apollo means well—she's just a little too willing to step on the little person to get her way for my taste." As he spoke, Felix gently pressed cool fingers against Ana's skin, completely obliterating any focus she might have had on his voice.
Somewhere along the way, she had forgotten how to breathe. Ana held utterly still, watching Felix's face with an almost desperate intensity. A blue glow started to resonate from Felix's hands, throwing his high cheekbones and the dark circles under his eyes into stark relief. She felt a warm buzz seeping into her blood and feathering her bones, fizzing throughout her system like champagne before settling in her stomach to happily bubble. There was a momentary snap of pain that radiated across every nerve, like an electric shock, and then he was withdrawing, standing up unsteadily. It had been the same as before, only Ana was paying more attention this time. She surged to her feet as well when Felix started to tip, his eyes half closed and his right arm curled in tight.
"Felix! Are you all right?" Ana said as she shifted to support his lagging frame, concerned when he didn't immediately respond.
"I'm alright, Ana. Just overdid it a little today." He pushed away from her support, and Ana fought against the frown that started to dominate her brow. "A little sleep and I'll be good as new. You didn't tell me that you've broken your ribs before, although these were only greenstick fractures," he managed as Ana trailed him to the bed. Her frown deepened at his changing of the subject, but, thinking of the heavy circles under his eyes and the way he favored his right shoulder, she didn't fight it.
"Car accident. I was seven, and the airbag crushed my ribcage," she explained shortly, watching with apprehensive eyes as Felix bonelessly dropped onto the bed, struggling to summon enough energy to pry off those tall boots. Ana knew he probably didn't even know what she was talking about, but wasn't placated when he didn't ask for an explanation. "You didn't tell me you hurt your shoulder," she added as he finally dropped the first boot on the floor and started on the second.
"I dislocated it when I was sixteen. Getting into trouble as stupid young men do. Starts to hurt when I do too much magic, especially healing." Ana frowned again.
"Then why-?"
"You were in trouble, Ana, far worse than a nap could cure. Don't concern yourself," he murmured bluntly as he dropped the second boot to the floor and flopped backwards onto the bed. Eyes closed and already half asleep, Felix managed to mumble out some last minute warnings. "I'll be fine… in a while. When they come up here… to fill the bath… hide… so they don't know you're here. As soon… as I leave… you can… wash up. I thought… you'd like that."
"Thanks, Felix," Ana said quietly, but he was already asleep. From under his shirt, a blue glow briefly flashed, catching Ana's eye for a moment. Sighing, she returned to the other side of the bed to retrieve her sweatshirt, pulling it on thoughtfully as she rethought the whole healing episode. She had been practically out of her mind at his touch, ready to leap up the walls. This utterly unwelcome attraction was base, and nothing more, Ana was certain of that. But Felix might have been tending to a child for all the reaction he showed. Was she really so bad, Ana wondered as she slowly drifted back to the arm chair by the hearth. Catching a wink of light on the wall, Ana glanced over to see the setting sun reflecting off an old mirror haphazardly slapped against the wall, and answered her own question. Yes, she was bad.
Her hair was down, and completely out of control. There were still sticks and leaves in it, which Ana started to callously rip out. All of the make-up she had applied that distant morning had long ago drifted off. Smudges of dirt marred her cheeks, which were pale. Ana scrubbed the cuff of her sweatshirt over her face, glaring at the shapeless garment and old jeans that did nothing for her appearance. Searching her pockets, Ana was desperately thankful that providence had granted a hair tie on her wrist. Scraping her mass of wild hair back into a ponytail, Ana stomped away to the chair. Just her luck to look like a hag when thrown into a desperate situation with one of the best-looking men she'd ever seen. Karma must be throwing rocks at her. Dropping down with a huff, she brooded for a lengthy period of time until a knock on the door had Ana shooting to her feet.
"Master Felix?" a voice sounded dimly through the door. Glancing around the room, Ana quickly decided that the bed was her best bet. Racing across the room, she took a moment to shake Felix's shoulder, hissing his name in a bid to wake him up.
When he faintly muttered "What?" Ana figured that it was the best she could do, and slid under the bed. Her nose immediately began to itch, and Ana breathed out of her mouth to head off any urge to sneeze at the dusty environment under the old bed. She heard the person in the hall again try to get the patron's attention with a soft call. Felix lay still for a moment, then, with a start, grudgingly rolled to his feet. Ana watched as his stockinged feet staggered to the door, opening with a sleepy "Yes?"
The bath bearer said something softly that Ana didn't catch, but she did hear Felix's muttered, "Just put it over there." He shuffled back to the bed, collapsing heavily enough to make Ana hold her breath, fearing that something in the antique bed would break on her. She watched as well as she could as a large copper tub was deposited close to the fireplace, which someone was busily lighting. A long train of feet followed, accompanied by the rhythmic splash of water into the copper tin. After about twenty minutes, the train stopped, and the feet shuffled out of the room. Once the door shut, Ana carefully slid out from under the bed, glancing longingly at the steaming bath.
Felix rolled to a sitting position on the bed, stretching with a huge yawn. Ana heard several cracks from his spine as he arched backwards. Rubbing the back of his neck contemplatively, he bent to drag his tall boots back on. Relieved to see that the smudges under his eyes had faded a little, Ana wandered over the tub, grinning softly at the terry towels draped over the arm chair, coupled with a block of soap that smelled faintly of lemon. But the truly surprising gift was the folded clothes in the seat of the chair. Ana looked up with happy eyes as Felix finished buttoning his waistcoat and tugging on a black jacket that appeared from the depths of his bag. He flashed a brief, dazzling smile at the look on Ana's face, promptly taking her breath away with the careless flash of charm. It was like a lightning strike—blinding and swift, leaving her blinking and blown away.
"I asked the innkeeper for a set of clothes from one of his lads under the excuse that some of my clothes had been lost, knowing the boys to be slim creatures. I hope they fit you," he said in a rather satisfied tone. It was a thoughtful gesture, after all. Ana watched curiously as he ran a hand down each of his sleeves, small green and yellow sparks flying off his fingers once they left the cuff of each sleeve. As Felix adjusted his collar with a small tug, a tiny pop sounded, and his clothes were pressed and clean, not to mention his neatly cropped dark hair was tamed back in a smooth style without even a hint of a comb. Ana was instantly jealous.
"Time to prove I can hold my liquor against these hardened farmers. Enjoy your bath, Ana," Felix said as he strode from the room. Mutely watching him go, Ana lifted a brow at the thought of Felix getting rousingly drunk downstairs. The spectacle might just be worth the risk, but Ana wasn't sure enough about her skills in the art of stealth to get herself down there and back again without someone noticing her. Every citizen of Luxton who happened to be looking out their window today saw the incident with the Arsalans, and they might have seen Ana, too. Felix was determined to keep her a secret—it seemed careless to ruin that image just to see him knocking back some ale with a couple friendly farmers. Besides, she had a bath to indulge in.
Despite Felix's careful healing, muscles throughout her entire body ached like bad teeth, and her legs were still a little whiny from their repeated sprints earlier. Ana tugged off her clothes after drawing the patched curtain at the window closed, setting the letter and bracelet atop her small mountain of clothes and shoes with care. Sinking into the steaming water with a held breath, Ana throatily released it as the water sloshed over her shoulders and started to sink into her tired bones. After the fall through the black stretch earlier this morning, Ana thought she would never warm up again. It was a blessing to feel heat thawing her tight muscles and bones, not only from the water but the quickly growing fire before her.
The copper tub was rather cramped, not designed to comfortably accommodate someone of Ana's height—however, she'd be dead before she complained at this point. Dipping her head back, she soaked the heavy weight of her hair fully, breathing deeply through her nose as she sleeked her hair back into a thick, manageable tail. She spent some time relaxing into the heat of the tub, drawing gentle, colorful patterns of colors behind her closed eyes when she wasn't contemplating the shifting flames in the hearth.
When Ana felt the heat of the water start to neutralize, she stretched an arm back to the heavy block of soap. Starting with her hair, which took entirely too much time, she worked over every inch of her body, scrubbing mercilessly at the dirt and blood that had crusted her skin. Rinsed and gleaming, Ana rose from the cooling water, flexing her stiff knees a bit as she reached for the towels. Wrapping her hair up in a turban with one, she thoroughly dried herself with the other after stepping out of the tub, making sure that no stray splotches had escaped her earlier cleaning.
Finally, she unfolded the extra set of clothes. The tawny breeches fit well enough—at least they had length—and were acceptably clean. The white tunic's neck was unlaced, and entirely indecent. Spending some time relacing the strings, Ana then rolled back the too long sleeves and tucked in the long tail to fill in the minimal bagginess at the breeches' waist. Padding in bare feet over the chair, Ana was just about to sit when she spied a quilt at the foot of the bed. Snagging the homespun blanket, she dragged it back over to the chair, settling in as she tucked the quilt around her feet and shoulders. Tugging the turban off, Ana spread her hair out to dry, again becoming absorbed with the flames in the fireplace. It had been a long time since she'd felt so quiet, so at peace. It was such a foreign feeling, and it wasn't long before Ana was lulled into a deep, drugging sleep—the most peacefully she had slept in entirely too long.
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Geez, this is rough. I love writing description, but thoughts and dialogue is like wrestling with a chainsaw seriously lacking in imagination. I've been screaming through Nora Roberts books, trying to get a better handle on how she creates dialogue that is so effective, it makes me laugh out loud like a maniac. I have such a definitive handle on what these two look like, I'm still trying to pin down their personalities without losing dimension. Ana isn't a meek, obedient idiot, and, as you might think in the next chapter, Felix isn't a sex-crazed fiend. How do I make them human without making them inhuman? Moving has obliterated my moderation. This sucks.
Please let me know if you find this chapter mediocre. I will willingly spend more time on it if something explicit is wrong or off. On a side note, since I made Ana English, I expressed her height in meters, the universal measurement. However, for you Yanks like me, it's about 5'7", 5'8". So she's tall, but Felix ranges just over 6". FYI.