When Blood Runs Cold - Chapter 250

“Lilyana,” cries Fangorn, agasp, standing quickly to greet his beloved as she ducks from out of the tent. Carefully, Ithuriel trails her out, a few small parcels stowed away in his hands, along with a gleaming sword attached to his belt. From the glossiness of its appearance, I might hazard a guess that the device is newly forged, by the hands of a masterful angel craftier too, judging by its quality.

He looks rather pleased with it.

“Is everything sorted, my Queen?” Fangorn smiles, wiggling his eyebrows to the wingless angel who stops herself short in front of him. As graciously as the metal wings in his hands will allow him, the scarred vampire bows low, the messy strands of his hair falling over his eyes despite how neatly he had attempted to arrange them. When he stands again, his hair remains a mussy mess of strands, enough so that one might suppose he walked through a hedge backwards.

“Everything is sorted,” she affirms, giving him a light pat of the arm. The two of them exchange longing glances, a series of wordless gestures passing between them before she hurriedly raises her eyes, realising Fangorn is not the only one waiting for her. Though I suppose I can hardly blame her- it has been centuries since she has seen Fangorn for a span that is more than five minutes, so it is only natural that she would be more inclined to spend every waking second with him. Perhaps she too fears what might be taken for her.

“Queen of the Angels,” I murmur with a simmering look, impressed at how suited she is to her new royal attire. “You look good.”

“When do I not?” she chuckles lowly, in the brazen manner she always had done, before giving another smile to the eagerly awaiting Fangorn. Poor guy, I have never seen him look so desperate for her attention. He reminds me of a puppy, wide eyed and striving for affection.

“True words, Lilyana,” I shoot back, grinning now, glad to have my tensions eased somewhat.

Kal and I too, spare our bows to the new Queen of the angels. But Kal, being rather unaccustomed to formalities with his surrogate mother, shortly determines a new course of action as he wraps his hands around her, pulling her into a crushing hug.

“I’ve missed you, ma,” he breathes, squeezing her tighter. The thin angel winces slightly, but allows him to hold her there, trailing his fingers over his dark locks lovingly. “They won’t let me visit you any more,” Kal complains into her shoulder, allowing Fangorn and I to spare a few knowing glances. Lilyana continues to run her hand gently through his hair.

“Well, I will have to arrange something with the guards. But as I was saying,” she resumes, turning to Fangorn with a lopsided grin, still enveloped in that crushing hug. “Elris has been around for thousands of years. Longer than the council- and far more witty. If anyone would know about the whisperings of the forest and the location or identity of a soul, it would be him.”

Twiddling his thumbs restlessly, Fangorn curls in on himself, relinquishing his defeat.

“I guess that’s right,” he admits sheepishly, his face dull until Lilyana plants a firm kiss on his cheek, sending a shock wave of warmth through him. I am sure if Fangorn had a working heart, it would be beating faster than a horse runs down a race track. Bringing his fingers up to glide over the spot where she kissed him, he adds with a devious smile:

“Maybe I should argue with you more if I get kisses out of it.”

Lilyana and Kal both roll their eyes in tandem, sharing one airy laugh as Kal at last detaches himself.

“Don’t even think about it. I would prefer to keep our relationship argument free.”

Fangorn only snickers after that, his gruff voice a soothing chime against the slight chill of the morning. Looking somewhat pleased with himself, Kal totters over to Ithuriel, silently gesturing for access to whatever he has stowed away in his hands. Reluctantly, Ithuriel hands them over, letting Kal riffle through them as he hums lowly to himself.

From somewhere in the Great Forest, a bird chitters tunefully.

I sigh.

For a little moment, things seem to be at peace, and I can almost let myself gloss over the monumental task we have ahead of us. I can almost pretend that Serena is here with me, curled up under my arm, the warmth of our bond spreading through us both as she drowsily cracks jokes over the heartlessness of my nature. But it is a baseless thought. She is far, far away now.

A few minutes of blissful silence between us, and I am finally fished from my thoughts by a wearied huff.

“I suppose you boys had better get going,” Lilyana reminds us with a smile that does not quite reach her eyes. Scooping up Fangorn’s hands in hers, she gives him a tight lipped expression, holding him there for a moment, as though disdaining to entertain the idea of letting go. She continues:

“It’s imperative you find Xavier and the crystal palace as fast as you can and ensure that Xavier divulges to you all the information about the soul he can. If Azrael already knows their location, I have no doubt he is already planning to obtain them somehow.”

“Right,” I Fangorn and I say in unison, all of us nodding in agreement. The crystal palace in the Enchanted Forest (or Dark Woods, as the outsiders call it), is largely a home for celestial sprites and faeries- formerly the most well known monopoly of Kagura, the celestial Queen herself. She has been ruling that premise for almost 600 years, and does not take the affair lightly. Ordinarily, most of my kind would not hope on even landing a visit to her kingdom for it is strictly guarded and even for a vampire poses a few issues that one has to be mindful of. The Enchanted Forest is a wild place, and unlike my Kingdom and the majority of Faey, is not governed by mortal rules. Only the Kingdoms that reside within the Forest have any sort of discipline, which makes the trek to the Kingdoms infinitely more dangerous. And even then, most Kingdoms do not welcome outsiders- gathered that they are not for eating, that is.

But the Queen’s former infatuation with me, and now her marriage to my prior friend and aristocrat vampire, Xavier de la Nuit, has made our terms of friendship rather more cordial.

It would be around about this time of year when autumn is beginning to bloom in full colour that I would visit her as a tribulation of my, and my Kingdom’s, good will. She was even invited to attend my mating and coronation ceremony as a guest of honour, though due to complication with an overlapping of one of her own ceremonies, she was unable to attend.

But nevertheless, our friendship stands still.

And a good thing too, because if what Elris says is with utter conviction, then we are going to need to pry all the information possible out of both of them. Luckily for me, prying is rather largely my strong suit.

“I packed you all some steel wards for the faeries, and a bit of silver for Kal and Ithuriel in case Azrael’s lackeys decide to tail you,” Lilyana assures, patting us all on the back as a tired, and now purple haired Ithuriel grasps the packages from Kal’s grip and places them back in his hands.

To this, Kal looks somewhat disappointed, as though Ithuriel’s reluctance to let him hold them equates to some form of distrust. But such an accusation wouldn’t be entirely unfounded.

Since Serena had informed him about the mating bond he and Kal shared, I have noticed with a pang of guilt that Ithuriel has been staunchly avoiding meeting Kal’s gaze- at least in human form. As a fox, he seems more than comfortable brushing up against any one of us, almost as if he associates himself as two entirely different people in each form. It certainly makes me wonder how Kal feels about the whole situation as Ithuriel walks out towards us, furiously avoiding looking back at the slender dragon boy. It seems almost painful.

“Your packages,” he affirms softly, dropping each one into our palms in turn. They have a good weight to them, and size too, each tailored to our needs to last us precisely a week in the Enchanted Forest and no more. After that the plan is to recuperate and share our obtained information between us, planning where to go from there. But that is an optimistic stance at best, for there is no telling how far Azrael’s plans will progress before then.

It is all a waiting game.

“It was very gracious for you to package these for us, Lilyana, Ithuriel,” I nod respectively to each of them, bestowing my thanks. Kal and Fangorn too seem pleased with their new packages.

“Nothing more for me?” Kal jokes as Ithuriel passes over his, before promptly getting ignored. Kal’s face falls.

Alas, this is going to be a long journey.