The only thing it had stirred up was his longing for her.
As he sat there, staring at the unchanging sand in the box, his mind drifted, and an image from a story floated up to the surface of memory.
A door with a hundred locks. A key that came from the heart.
His breath caught. He sat up straight, his blood pounding in his veins.
“One lock this time,” he whispered. “And only one key that will open it.” Then he felt a stab of sorrow so fierce that he bent over, pressing his forehead to his knees to try to ease the pain of it.
Only one would open that lock. And he wasn’t the right key.
“Well, look who’s here.”
It wasn’t the warmest welcome, Michael thought as he stepped into Philo’s courtyard, but at least Teaser wasn’t hurling threats at him—or stones.
“Michael!” Lynnea hurried over. “It’s been so long since we’ve seen you. Where have you been? Have you eaten? You haven’t eaten, have you? Sit down right there, and I’ll bring you something. Teaser, you keep him company.”
“You don’t have to be fussing over me,” Michael protested. “I just…Is Sebastian around?”
“You’re nothing but skin and bones,” Lynnea said.
A little worse for wear, maybe, but hardly skin and bones.
“You will sit, and you will eat.”
She suddenly sounded like a younger version of his aunt Brighid, which scared him enough to make him keep quiet and pull out a chair at a table. When she swung into the building to place his order, he looked at Teaser, who shrugged.
“She’s practicing to be a mommy,” Teaser said, dropping into the opposite chair.
“She’s pregnant?” That would be good news for the family, wouldn’t it?
“They’re working on getting her that way.”
Michael scratched his chin. “They weren’t working on it before?” He couldn’t picture Sebastian abstaining from sex.
“Nah,” Teaser said. “Before, if it happened, it would have been an accident. Now it’s deliberate. Don’t ask me what the difference is. I’m just an incubus, and from where I’m standing, it looks the same to me.”
He smiled, finding comfort in the ordinary. And he could admit to himself that that was the reason he’d avoided the Den over these past few months—he hadn’t felt he deserved the comfort he’d found in this landscape, with these people.
Then he heard the song, before he turned his head and saw the man. A dark song, full of power, threaded with Light.
“Word has it that you’ve settled into the house on the Island in the Mist,” Sebastian said as he joined them.
“I have, yes.”
Lynnea came back and set a plate in front of him piled with roast beef, potatoes, and some kind of casserole. She placed a bowl of melted cheese and a basket of Phallic Delights between Sebastian and Teaser.
“The man isn’t taking care of himself,” she said, glaring at Sebastian. “Don’t let him leave the table until he eats.”
“What’s he supposed to do?” Teaser asked, reaching for a Phallic Delight. “Give Michael a bit of a sizzle?”
Lynnea whacked the incubus on the shoulder and huffed off to a table full of visitors, who cowered at her approach.
“She tangled with Lee over something this morning and has been a bit pissy ever since,” Sebastian said, swirling a Delight in the melted cheese.
“Over me, is what you’re not saying.” Michael started to push the plate of food away, then glanced up and saw Lynnea glaring at him, so he picked up a fork and stabbed a piece of potato.
“Good choice,” Sebastian said. “Anyone who tangles with her today is on his own.”
The first few bites didn’t go down easily, but as he listened to Teaser and Sebastian talking about the Den, he began to relax and enjoy the meal.
Lynnea returned, declared herself satisfied that he’d eaten enough, and removed the dishes.
“Well,” Teaser said, looking from him to Sebastian. “I’ll just take myself off and do…something.”
When they were alone, Michael could feel those sharp green eyes staring at him, so he lifted his head and met Sebastian, look for look.
“Threat and promise is what you called me,” Michael said quietly. “I made good on the threat by helping Glorianna cage the Eater of the World—and cage herself in the process. Now I’m asking for your help, Justice Maker, in order to make good on the promise.”
“In clear words, Magician,” Sebastian said.
“I think there’s a way to get her back. And I think you’re the key to doing it.”
Sebastian stared at him for a long time. Then, softly, “What do you want me to do?”
“It might not work,” Michael said as he and Sebastian walked over to the sandbox.
“You said that.”
“I don’t really know what I’m doing.”
“You said that too.”
“I just don’t want you to hope for too much.”
Sebastian stopped. “Magician. Isn’t that the whole point? To hope?”
Michael swayed with the force of those words flowing through the currents on the island. “It is. Yes, it is.”
They stepped into the gravel side of the box and sat down on the bench.
“What do you want me to do?” Sebastian asked.
Michael took out his whistle. “I’m not sure how this reaching through the twilight of waking dreams works, but you were able to reach my aunt and the Ladies of Light on the White Isle when you sent that riddle, so I’m thinking you could reach Glorianna in this other landscape.”
Sebastian looked at the tip of his boot. “I’ve already tried that. It didn’t work.”
Michael nodded. “And I’ve tried what I could do. I’m thinking neither is enough by itself, but together…All we need is a crack, a way to send a little something to help her remember who she was. She divided her heart and built a wall to keep them separated, but given a chance, they’ll come back together. We’re trying to create just enough of a chink in that wall for her to feel the other half of her heart.”
It was tempting to play the love inside himself, but while Sebastian unfurled the power of the incubus and moved through the twilight of waking dreams, Michael played the music he heard in the incubus’s heart.
A beautiful bed in a garden. A piece of granite, the stone of strength, with veins of quartz that sparkled in sunlight. Rich earth. And flowers that rose out of the ground in a dazzle of colors that delighted the eye—and made the scar in her chest ache and ache and ache until…
That was better. Much better. Those beautiful flowers were nothing more than a lure. As they bloomed, the nectar dripped down the petals and poisoned the rich earth, killing the beauty.
And despair moaned through the dying trees, and sorrow was a bed of stones.
And somewhere, just out of sight, a boy laughed, his delight at being included, at being accepted, producing a shimmer of Light.
She woke, her hand pressed against her chest to ease the terrible ache.
Something stirred in her landscape. Something that didn’t belong here.
Something she couldn’t want here.
She rose, feeling stiff, feeling achy, feeling angry. She would strip away any pretties that had crept into her landscape. She would crush anything that fed the weeds of Light, those damned currents she couldn’t eliminate completely, no matter how often she tore at the roots.
Time to find the Eater again. It gave her a savage pleasure to use those remaining flickers of Light to manifest something desirable and watch It try to belong, to fit in with the very creatures It had once wanted to destroy.
Boo, hoo, boo, hoo, little Eater. Belladonna has a treat for you. Poison in the pretties.
Or maybe just a pretty. The hearts in this landscape would tear each other apart to possess something truly pretty. Or tasty. Or desirable.
She laughed, and the sound was a blight on the land.