Hold Still Page 4

  Gaston bellowed in outrage. "How dare you try to murder me, Chief!"

  "I do not intend to try," Ken snarled, and raised a hand in what was clearly an order to attack.

  "Esen, run!" Gaston cried out.

  Though he did not flee, Esen did throw himself back fully into the wind, calling out to the birds, to the trees, even to wind's sister element in the lake.

  Then he heard a growl that was like nothing he'd ever heard before and turned back—then stared as the Centaur reared back, letting out startled, even frightened cries.

  In the very center of the fractured cluster was…well, it had to be Gaston, but even knowing he was a Chimera had not braced Esen for the reality of it. Gaston in his true Nature was all the fury and beauty of a storm. He stood on four legs, the front half of his body entirely lion, including a great mane the color of his hair. The fur darkened where it turned into the curlier hair of a Satyr, which formed his back half, the legs ending in black hooves.

  But rather than the lion head he would have expected, the enormous mane framed the head of a dragon, with dark-swirling eyes and black horns at the temples, and teeth that could crush even stone.

  Gaston's tail was long and scaled, flicking back and forth like a whip, the end tipped in sharp barbs that Esen bet were as poisonous as any dragon's—and likely he could throw them just the same.

  It was a theory that proved true, as Gaston whipped around and his tail flashed, three Centaurs immediately dropping to the ground. Gaston roared and threw himself at another, and the acrid smell of fire filled the air.

  Esen rushed in, birds on his air, keeping the Centaurs from getting the best of Gaston simply through sheer numbers.

  He lost himself in the battle, in the wind, falling only into sensing, moving, all coherent thought lost to saving Gaston and being one with the air.

  Then he heard his name, called softly but with force. It drew him as surely as any Siren song, and Esen rushed down to it. "Esen," Gaston said, and Esen saw he was holding out a hand. The wind tried to call Esen back, but he ignored it, instead reaching out one wispy hand to brush Gaston's.

  Fingers closed over it, and with a soft sigh, Esen fell out of the wind entirely. Gaston caught him before he could fall to the ground, and Esen clung as he adjusted to the weight and limits of a body once more.

  Then Gaston wrapped tight fingers around his arms, and drew him into a kiss so hard that Esen tasted blood, and he remembered exactly why he did not want to be lost to the wind. "Gaston."

  "Esen," Gaston said, and Esen was taken aback by the tremble in his voice. "I did not think you would come back to me."

  Freeing one of his arms, Esen reached up to brush back the mussed curls that had fallen into Gaston's eyes and smiled. "I heard your voice over the wind; it's much stronger and sweeter. If you call me, I'll always come. You're really quite pretty in your Nature."

  Gaston laughed, the tremble finally fading away, and kissed him again, slower and sweeter. Esen twined around him and kissed back happily. "Are you all right, Esen?" Gaston asked eventually.

  "I'm fine. What about you? It was you they wanted to kill."

  "Thanks to a little Sylph, I am fine," Gaston said, then reluctantly let him go. His lips twitched, and he pulled off his cloak, then pulled it around Esen's shoulders.

  Esen flushed as he realized that he was naked. "Sorry."

  "Don't be," Gaston said, and kissed his nose before he reluctantly pulled away and turned to address Chief Ken, who was bloody, battered, and heavily bound at legs and arms, lying on his side on the stairs from which he had ordered his men to kill Gaston. "I am afraid, Chief, that you are under arrest. Your fate will be for Queen Marga to decide, but if it does not end in your execution, then I think you should count yourself fortunate."

  Chief Ken sneered and said nothing.

  Gaston sighed. "Chief, it does not have to be this way. Even now, if you would but unbend and agree to try to join the Unification, I would let the rest of it go."

  "Your words are a lie, as empty and worthless as that little wind sprite you're fucking, that you had sneak around while you tried to convince me your lies were truths."

  "Enough," Gaston said. Going over to his discarded bag, he pulled out a small vial filled with a dark blue, shimmering liquid.

  "That's an Elixir of Seeing!" Esen said in excitement. "How did you get one? The Faeries never part with their elixirs."

  Gaston looked at him, startled, then broke into a soft laugh. "I've many friends among the Fae. They're not as reluctant to part with their magic as most believe. They're just cautious not to let it go to those who might abuse it."

  He pulled the stopper from the bottle, then tipped it into the air before him, letting perhaps a half dozen drops out. The small pool shimmered and began to grow, until it formed a translucent oval in the air. Gaston placed his hand over it and spoke a word that Esen didn't know, but must have been Fae. He would have to get Gaston to tell him how he knew the Fae.

  The oval flashed, and then Queen Marga was there, as though they were looking through a window. "I am going to guess by the look on your face that the meeting did not go well."

  "Chief Ken refused to cooperate, and then tried to kill me—tried to stab me in the back. It is only because of my guide that I am still alive."

  Queen Marga's face did not change in expression, but her eyes turned black. "I see. Secure them all. I will send guards to take command of Mount Chiron until those damned horsemen can be brought to heel. Bring the good Chief to me, return home with all due haste. My compliments and eternal thanks to Master Esen."

  She vanished, and Esen stood stunned—that Queen Marga had thanked him and remembered his name.

  Gaston tweaked his nose, then tucked the vial away and walked back over to the Chief. "I have been ordered to take you to the palace. Are you going to come peacefully—"

  Chief Ken snarled, and Gaston sighed—then struck him hard across the head once, twice, until Chief Ken finally slumped over unconscious.

  "It's not going to be much fun dragging him back," Esen said.

  "If we can get him to that village where we left our supplies, we can obtain a cart and secure him in it. That will make the going much easier, and at some point, we'll encounter the royal guard and let them take over the duty." He stood up and walked over to Esen, leaned down to kiss him. "Go fetch your clothes, little Sylph. It's time to go home."

  Esen smiled and let the wind have him, pressing a wispy kiss to Gaston's cheek before the wind carried him back up the cliff.

  *~*~*

  He barely remembered reaching the palace, so exhausted that even walking proved a difficult task. Thankfully, it was the dead of night and there was practically no one about to see him trip over his own feet. Esen wanted nothing more than to fall into bed, but it took another four hours to see that Chief Ken was secured and locked away and to give their full reports to Queen Marga.

  "You have the makings of an excellent scout, Master Esen," she said as they finished, drumming her fingers on the arms of her seat. She was casually dressed, a state in which Esen had never thought he would see the queen. "I admit it took a lot of convincing for me to agree to let you be Gaston's guide. You have far exceeded even his high expectations, however. Do you think—"

  "Mother," Gaston broke in. "Can't the job offers wait until morning?"

  Job offers?

  Queen Marga pursed her lips. "Mother?"

  "I told him," Gaston said. "I trust him."

  She stared at him for a moment that seemed to last an eternity, then softly said, "I see." Making shooing motions, she said, "Go find your beds, then. Bed, I suspect," she said, mouth quirking in a way that made Esen wonder how in the world no one ever realized they were related.

  Gaston smiled at her and stepped forward to drop a kiss on her cheek. "Goodnight, Mother."

  "Sleep well," she said, affection plain on her face, nothing at all like the cool, stern Queen she was by day. She smiled at Esen and said, "T
ake care of him."

  Esen blinked, then bowed. "Yes, Majesty."

  She waved them off again, and Gaston took Esen's hand, guiding him through the palace until they reached a hallway he did not know, striding down to the end and opening a door. Esen frowned. "Where are we?"

  "My room, of course," Gaston said. "This is part of the royal wing. People love to wag their tongues about why I am allotted an entire suite here."

  Esen made a face. "People love to wag their tongues about everything."

  Gaston chuckled. "True enough." He closed the door, then immediately began to strip out of his filthy travel clothes. "It looks like a bath has been set out for us. Shall we get clean and then go to bed? I could sleep for a week at least."

  "That sounds lovely," Esen agreed, and stripped off his own clothes.

  The sight of Gaston naked was as beautiful and tempting as ever, but Esen simply did not have the energy to do anything about it. Neither did Gaston, beyond a few sleepy kisses as they washed and dried each other. When they were clean, Gaston tugged him into the bedroom. A low fire cast light upon an enormous bed, where the blankets had been turned down invitingly.

  A thousand questions burned, but for once, Esen bit them all back, loath to say anything that might ruin whatever was going on. Instead, he climbed into bed alongside Gaston and curled against him, breathing in Gaston's familiar scent as sleep rapidly pulled him under.

  When he woke, it felt as though he had been asleep mere minutes—but sunshine poured in through the window on the far side of the room and the grumbling of his stomach told him it was definitely time for breakfast. No doubt that was what had woken him.

  Sitting up, Esen shoved his hair from his face, then glanced down at the arm draped over his lap, following it along to its owner. Gaston's curls were a hopeless tangle, and Esen amused himself trying to sort the mess out anyway. Only minutes into the task, Gaston stirred, and the arm around his waist shifted, pulled Esen back down into the bedding.

  Gaston rolled on top of him, kissed him. "Good morning, Esen."

  "Good morning," Esen replied, lazily trailing his hands over Gaston's skin, hunger forgotten in a sudden desire to put all his new knowledge to use.

  It was a desire Gaston clearly shared, as he bent to take another kiss before exploring the rest of Esen's body with hands and mouth. Esen called to the air with just the barest shred of himself, using whirls of wind to tease and taunt, laughing at the way Gaston swore and only grew more fevered in his desire to exact revenge.

  By the time Gaston slid inside him, they were both breathless and sweaty, too eager to last long. Esen fisted one hand in Gaston's soft curls, holding him close as they both came apart.

  He groaned as Gaston pulled out of him, but was pleased when he remained close, lazily lapping at Esen's skin.

  The sound of voices made them both freeze from surprise, and then Gaston moaned, burying his face in Esen's shoulder.

  "What's wrong?" Esen asked.

  "The nosy busybodies in the front room who must have spoken to my mother this morning. I knew I should have checked to see if they were here."

  Esen stared at him blankly, but before he could ask, Gaston had hauled him out of bed and was washing them both off with a rag from a pitcher by the bed. "It looks like your clothes were brought at some point," Gaston said, pointing at the piles of fabric on a trunk at the foot of the bed.

  "My clothes?" Esen echoed, and realized he was right: all his clothes—his belongings, in fact—had been brought to Gaston's room. Did that mean… Had Justin the Griffin stayed in Gaston's rooms? How long would Esen have before his time in the garden?

  Biting his lip to keep from asking, afraid if he did so he would hasten that moment, Esen went over to his clothes. His mood cheered as he fussed over it all and deliberated on what to wear—green, blue, yellow, pink, purple, the lovely dark orange…

  "Wear this one," Gaston said abruptly, and picked out a jacket of silvery-blue trimmed with white and silver lace and the most beautiful mother of pearl buttons.

  Esen did so, picking out the dark blue breeches and white shoes with silver heels and buckles that went with it, and a favorite pair of white and blue clocked stockings. He fished out his hairbrush, then started to pull his hair back when Gaston reappeared as suddenly as he had before, this time completely dressed, the most beautiful rubies gleaming at his ears and throat. Esen tried not to stare at them.

  Gaston pulled his hands away from his hair. "Leave it down."

  "It'll get all tangled," Esen said, but couldn't resist the almost pouting look that Gaston gave him. He hadn't known Gaston could pout. It made something warm unfurl in his stomach, made him want to grin like an idiot and drag Gaston back to bed.

  But he could still hear the voices in the front room, an occasional laugh, the clink of china. There were clearly people waiting for Gaston. "Should I meet you somewhere later?" he asked. "Or will you just find me whenever you're able?"

  Gaston blinked at him. "Meet me later? What do you mean?"

  "You have guests," Esen said, tilting his head. "I do not want to get in the way, so I thought I would go find food and maybe see you later?" he could not help the hopeful note that slid into his voice, half-afraid that once he was immersed in palace life, Gaston would no longer have time for or interest in him.

  Placing a kiss on his mouth, Gaston then rose and smiled. "They're here to see you."

  "Me?"

  "Come on," Gaston said, and took his hand as they left the bedroom.

  Esen had not known who to expect to be waiting in the sitting room, but when he saw who was there, he wanted to flee back into the bedroom. Conversation faded off as Chief Llew of the Lion Clan and Chief Gillis of the Satyr Clan saw them and stood up. "There you are," Llew said congenially, grinning and holding out his arms.

  Letting go of Esen, Gaston obediently went to greet his fathers. Esen still found it hard to believe that Gaston had three parents—but he was again left wondering how no one had figured it out when his curls were definitely a product of Gillis, their golden color from Llew. His jaw and nose definitely were inherited from Gillis, but his mouth and sharp cheekbones came from Llew. His lithe build and contained demeanor could only come from his mother.

  How did they keep it a secret, especially when all three clearly held their son in deep affection.

  He jumped when all three abruptly looked at him, and Llew said, "So this is the little Sylph your mother was telling us about."

  "Couldn't you wait a day before you came to inspect him?" Gaston groused. "I am thirty-two, far past needing you to approve my lovers. How many times do I need to tell you this nonsense must stop?"

  "Until you pick one worthy of you," Gillis said, and looked Esen up and down so thoroughly, Esen wanted to hide behind something, and had to double check he was still dressed and not making a fool of himself. Finally he met Esen's eyes and said quietly, "I think you may have managed the trick at last."

  Gaston rolled his eyes as he helped himself to Llew's cup of tea. "I repeat—your approval is not necessary here. None of you three get to lecture me on such matters."

  Esen tried not to gawk, but he remembered every slap, every cold look, when he had dared use the wrong word or tone when speaking to his parents. If he had dared to act the way Gaston did…

  It was very different, and fun to watch, and Esen slowly smiled as he watched fathers and son interact. Eventually, the conversation wound down, and he was surprised at the disappointment that washed over him when they stood to leave. "Be sure to come for dinner, both of you, before your mother sends you off somewhere else and we don't see you again for months," Llew admonished. "Esen, it was a pleasure to meet you. Take care of Gaston for us."

  Nodding, Esen said, "I will, my lords."

  "I believe you," Gillis said, and ruffled Gaston's hair, smirking as they took their leave.

  It was only then, as he watched the two of them, the way they smiled and touched, that Esen belatedly realized, "They
're—they're still together."

  Gaston laughed. "Yes, quite. You could not keep them apart." He smiled a bit sadly. "Duty keeps them apart enough. It is not easy when two of them are Chiefs and one is Queen, but they make it work. They're just more careful about producing children," he added dryly.

  "I'm sorry they can't tell everyone; they must really want to," Esen said softly. "It must hurt they can't admit that you belong to them."

  "They're happy just to have me," Gaston said, reaching out and pulling Esen close, twining arms around his waist. "As my soppy Satyr father once put it, I am the only proof that they do, in fact, love one another very much. If I'm all they can ever have, then I'm also all they could ever want."

  Esen smiled. "They sound very sweet."'

  "On occasion, yes," Gaston said, and kissed the fingers Esen pressed playfully to his lips. "Come on, let's get some proper breakfast, hmm?"

  Nodding, Esen took the hand that Gaston held out, and together they made their way to public parts of the palace. The looks they garnered made him tense, but Gaston held fast to his hand and ignore them all, and so Esen tried to do the same.

  He half-expected—feared—running into his ex-fiancé, and was not prepared at all when they stepped into Marga's breakfast room and found, instead of the Marga, a lone Griffin standing by the windows. He turned around as he heard them, looking intently, but hesitantly, at Gaston.

  "Justin," Gaston greeted, a wary note to his voice.

  "Good morning, Gaston," Justin replied. "I heard you were back and thought we might speak. Our last conversation did not go as I would have liked. I was perhaps a trifle hasty." His brows lifted in question and disapproval at Esen. "But it would seem you considered it final enough. I see you've already moved on…" Mouth twisting with distaste, he added, "I suppose a flighty little Sylph is in keeping with your distaste for holding still. Perhaps you'll keep him longer than a few months."

  Esen bristled at that. "He grounds me. When the wind takes me away, he calls me back. I would never want to make him stay in one place. We are suited—perfectly."