The Wellspring Page 7

  “That’s just the thing,” Yule contradicted. “I don’t think he is a jerk. I’m not sure what he is, but jerk doesn’t really cover everything.”

  “Condescending bastard?” he cheerily suggested.

  Yule grinned at that. “Maybe a little,” she agreed.

  “Just as long as you aren’t seriously considering his job offer.”

  “The hell I’m not,” she countered.

  “Yule—”

  “I know that tone, Hermes, don’t start with me.”

  “Sweetheart, you know I want what’s best for you and Magus Teomond can’t possibly be it,” he argued.

  “To be perfectly honest, I’m not thinking of Magus Teomond,” she admitted. “I’m thinking of three weeks on Atlantis.”

  “Atlantis isn’t—”

  “Don’t tell me what it isn’t,” she interrupted. “I know what it is. When normals dream about amazing places they’ll never go that’s what Atlantis is to me. Worse than that, it’s my home, my real home! When they say home is where the heart is they’re talking about Atlantis! Even a no-power loser like me can feel my heart beating in Atlantis! It calls to all of us, but I’m not allowed to answer.”

  “Yule.” His expression softened and he set aside the spoon. “You’re not a loser, and if he makes you feel that way why would you want to spend any time with him, even if it’s in Atlantis?”

  “Who said he makes me feel that way?” she remarked quietly. “No, I don’t mean you!” she cried when she saw the hurt expression steal into Hermes’ expressive dark eyes. She set aside spoon and ice cream carton and threw her arms around his neck. “You’ve been completely wonderful to me!” She kissed his neck several times until he finally laughed and pushed her away.

  “All right, I’m convinced, I’m amazing.” He shook a finger at her. “Don’t go with Prosser Teomond. If it’s that important to you I’ll try to find a way to get you there, but going with him is a problem you do not need in your life.”

  “How is it a problem? He needs an assistant and I want to go to Atlantis.”

  Hermes sighed. “You’re such an innocent. Just what do you think the gossip broadcasts are going to be filled with when the information gets out? And you know it will get out, even if it’s just someone wondering why his usual assistant isn’t with him. The man’s a complete stranger to you after all, why do you think a man invites a woman away to a romantic island?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous!” she scoffed. “No one’s going to think that for a second.”

  “And why not?”

  “Because he’s who he is and I’m who I am which is nobody he’d be interested in, that way,” she explained. “I’ve seen his type; all legs and hair and breasts.”

  “You realize you have all of those.”

  “Not arranged the way he likes them, and anyone looking at me would know that.” Yule shrugged matter-of-factly.

  “Why do you talk about yourself like you’re ugly? You’re not ugly, honey.”

  “I’m not breathtaking either,” she countered without self-pity.

  “Most people aren’t.”

  “You are.”

  “My hotness is my burden.”

  “I thought you said it was your weapon,” she reminded him.

  “My hot weapon.”

  “You are so awful,” she laughed.

  “Kidding aside, sweetheart, there’s always a reason a man invites a woman anywhere and if you don’t think it’s for a mad sexual romp then you’d better figure out what it is for before you go,” he warned.

  His warning irritated Yule. She wasn’t the prudish, cloistered innocent Hermes always cast her as, virginity aside. While she’d never had sex with a man she certainly knew all about the subject and was familiar with the tricks guys tried to get a girl in bed. They’d been played on her, and failed, not because she was frigid or frightened, but because she wasn’t impressed by tricks. If a man liked her and wanted her he needed to be able to just come out and say so—even if she still said no, because honesty was important, especially in bed. She doubted a man like Prosser had to lie to get a woman in the sack, but she didn’t think the kind of woman he liked cared about much more than how impressed other people would be with his name etched on her three thousand dollar belt. As for why he asked her to be his assistant rather than hiring some temp, that was easy; he didn’t have to pay her, she owed him a favor. She concluded that was all there was to it and thought being able to visit Atlantis was just an added perk for her.

  “I’ve thought about it a lot, actually,” she assured Hermes. “I’m convenient, capable, and free.” She ticked off these points on her fingers. “Plus, he mentioned the temp he was supposed to use was driving him mad with personal questions about what it was like to be magic folk. She is a normal,” Yule explained when one of Hermes’ eyebrows cocked in question.

  He chuckled at that. “Normals are always so curious about the oddest things. I remember a gorgeous normal artist I—” He was interrupted by a delicate chime, like the single strike of a wind chime, and a fine mist of lavender fog appeared in the living room a few feet from the couch. The faint image of the Viking stood within it, smiling. “There’s my ride, I’ll see you later.” He kissed Yule on both cheeks before rising and straightening his cinnamon and cream suit ensemble. “Don’t do anything rash while I’m out and don’t wait up.” He winked and walked into the fog, vanishing.

  Yule delightedly drew out from under the couch a tray of easy reader crystals she’d picked up at the library on her way home from seeing Prosser. She settled back with the carton of ice cream on her lap, spoon in her right hand, crystal in her left—and opened her mind. These were holiday planning, travelogue crystals and her thoughts were immediately filled with scenes of white sand beaches lapped by azure seas. Palm trees lined those shores, multi-colored tropical birds soaring from one tree to the next. A pleasant voice in her head narrated the scene, describing the many adventures to be had then the scene changed to a black sand beach where evergreens opened their arms toward a dark green ocean. The sun shone brightly on this scene as well, but it looked like a completely different place and Yule was impressed by the variety of terrain Atlantis offered, determined to visit as much of it as Prosser would give her time in which to do it.

  Beaches, gardens, mountains, jungles, and forests flooded her mind, but by the third crystal Yule realized there was a distinctly missing component; cities. There were points of sightseeing or shopping interests, but these museums, galleries and shops were always internal views. There were no street approaches, no road, city, or street names—no external vistas of towns or scenic huddles of homes—no way by which Atlantis could be mapped. Of course, she thought, setting aside the third crystal and replacing the lid on the carton. Magic folk wouldn’t want normals to have maps of Atlantis, normals who might take the information back to the alternate Earth from which they’d come. She rose and wandered into the kitchen, setting the carton back in the freezer then returning to the couch and reaching for the fourth crystal. This crystal suggested clothing options to pack related to the variety of activities the island offered. Yule hadn’t given much thought to that matter until now. She didn’t know what she assumed she was going to do about clothes beyond throwing a few things into a bag, but now the prospect of three weeks worth of casual, business, even evening wear loomed like a tornado on her working vacation horizon. She wasn’t like Hermes, with a wardrobe of limitless possibilities, it just didn’t occur to her to wear anything that wasn’t utilitarian or comfortable. The way she looked at things, you could hang daisies on a mud fence and it’d still be a mud fence.

  She set aside the crystal and went into her bedroom, opening the closet and letting her eyes roam its contents. Ignoring all of the simple suits that were easy options for the times she’d spend strictly devoted to Prosser’s business affairs, she focused on what remained and found it all sorely lacking. One evening type black gown beckoned to her and she drew it from the depth
s of the closet where it had hung, ignored, for—three years? She stroked the velvety softness of the garment and smiled, remembering how Hermes presented it to her, insisting every woman must have at least one gown for—formal emergencies. Would it still fit? Three years ago she was still in training for a military position Hermes ultimately talked her out of taking, and she’d spent the time since then behind desks, softening her frame into Hermes’ favorite pillow.

  She laid the gown on the bed, stripped off her oversized pajamas and drew the gown over her head, letting it fall around her like a soft swirl of dark chocolate. She tugged the lines into order around her, discarding her bra when she realized it interfered with the built in supports, reached back to zip up and found her efforts blocked at the halfway point. First she sucked in breath only increasing her ribcage so she blew out all of the air and managed to gain an inch before her efforts were frustrated again. She knew that even if she starved herself and exercised like a madwoman she wouldn’t put a dent in the extra flesh before her departure.

  Hearing a chime of impending arrival from the living room, she went out to see why Hermes had returned so soon, having a feeling the Viking would be in tow and she’d be relegated to her bedroom for several more hours. In which case, I’m taking the travel crystals with me, she thought, ignoring the left strap of her dress when it slipped off her shoulder.

  “Don’t take anything off before I grab my stuff,” she called as she entered the living room and came to an abrupt stop, eyes widening in surprise.

  “I wouldn’t dream of it,” Magus Teomond assured her with the beginnings of amusement until his eyes took in her state of partial dress.

  “I thought you were Hermes.”

  His head tilted, eyes moving to her bare left shoulder. “I don’t believe I’ve ever been compared to that particular god, but thank you.”

  “I—I was just,” she stammered, pushing the strap up with one hand while holding her gown closed in the back with the other.

  “Dressing, my apologies,” he interrupted. “I could assist you with the zip?”

  “No!” she exclaimed, taking a step back when he took a step toward her. “Thanks, I’ve got it.” She began to turn, realized quite a bit of her would be exposed, and chose to back away. “I’ll just—be right back.”

  “I would have messaged ahead,” he called after her. “But your mind is still so damned impermeable and I only had a moment to pop in so I thought I might as well take the chance.”

  Yule slipped off the dress and dropped it on the bed, quickly pulling on a pair of jeans and oversized sweatshirt. “That’s all right, I heard the warning chime, and I just thought it was—”

  “Your date?” he finished.

  “My—?” She realized he thought he’d interrupted her preparations for an evening out. “Oh, that.” She returned to the living room and fancied she saw a hint of disenchantment in his dark eyes at her change of wardrobe. “I was just going through some things, deciding what to bring to Atlantis.”

  “I hope that will be one of your choices, it was charming,” he complimented.

  “Thank you, we’ll see. What can I do for you, Magus?”

  “I wanted to leave this with you,” he told her, holding out a small crystal. “It contains all of our travel information, departure place and time, as well as a small outline of your general duties,” he continued as she accepted the crystal, dismayed that it was not an easy reader. “It includes my itinerary of events as well as a few odds and ends details you should find helpful.”

  “I—thank you,” she finally said, unwilling to admit she couldn’t open the crystal. She’d just ask Hermes to access it for her, and transfer the information into a crystal she could read. “I was doing some reading about Atlantis, you know, travelogues,” she told him. “It mentioned some of the hotels. Do you know which one we’ll—”

  “Hotels are for tourists,” he interrupted her. “I have private lodgings. I’m sure you’ll find them adequate.”

  “Oh, of course. I mean I’m sure I will,” she agreed.

  Internally, she couldn’t help the flutter of misgiving’s wings, but she laid the blame at Hermes’ cynical feet. All of his sexual implications of planned impropriety clearly preyed upon her better judgment and impartial perspective. Yes, a private dwelling hinted at potential misconduct, but there was no reason to imagine he’d made the arrangement specifically for her accompaniment of him. Doubtless this was where he spent every trip to Atlantis, and every magic worker of import probably had similar accommodations. She mentally frowned at her Hermes-birthed paranoia and pushed it aside.

  He took in her stance. “Naturally we won’t be alone.”

  “Oh?”

  “It takes a veritable army of household staff to keep the place in order; maids, cooks, gardeners, maintenance—you’re going to be stumbling over someone at every turn.”

  “Perhaps mirrors on every corner would rectify that situation?” She wasn’t sure if the idea of house filled with chaperones pleased or disappointed her. Not that she was hoping he’d seduce her, she reminded herself.

  He laughed at that. “They might. Were you concerned I might expect you to manage every aspect of the house? I know I have something of a reputation as a task master, but I will not have you think of me as a slave-driver.”

  "It’s comforting to know that whips will not be involved,” she remarked drolly.

  “Never whips,” he assured her stoically. “The occasional spanking, but never whips.” He chuckled at her dismayed expression.

  Yule wasn’t sure if his teasing annoyed or amused her, she decided to let annoyance be her voice for now. “I must tell you now, Magus,” her words were clipped and professional as she held up the crystal. “I cannot read this, the magic is too advanced. I can have my—friend download it into an easy reader, but in the future I will require simpler crystals.”

  “I didn’t mean to embarrass you, my dear,” he apologized. Yule didn’t know if he meant for the spanking remark or for his assumption she could read the crystal. “In the future I will be certain to provide the tools you need to accomplish the tasks I set for you.” He glanced at his watch. “I must go. Thank you for agreeing to be my assistant. I’ll try not to abuse your generosity.” He leaned forward and kissed her cheek then winked and vanished on the wind before she could pretend outrage.

  She would be pretending, she admitted to herself, raising a hand to the cheek he’d kissed. There was nothing romantic in the gesture, and his wink made it clear he was only teasing her, but for a moment she entertained the fantasy that the dashing man was whisking her away for a holiday of seduction and she giggled at the thrill it sent shivering up her body from her toes to her fingertips.

  Yule collected the library crystals from the coffee table and carried them into her bedroom, planning to spend the night making her vacation plans revolve around her wardrobe, but she dozed off in the middle of the fifth crystal.

  She strolled along a white sand, sun-soaked beach where azure waves lapped her feet and tropical birds called noisily from the palms that bordered the jungle. This was Atlantis! She thought ecstatically. I made it! I made it home! She laughed and ran into the low surf, kicking playfully at the waves. When she blinked she discovered she was standing in a garden, thick grass tickling her bare feet, the heady scent of uncounted flowers making the air as thick and sweet as honey. This was still Atlantis, she knew, she moved through every part of it and it filled every part of her. She fell to the grass, laughing and euphoric, magic tingling along her nerve endings.

  "Are you enjoying yourself?"

  She blinked into the golden glare of the sun then the speaker stepped between, blocking the light. It was Marc Woodmont, his cocoa brown hair glowing like burnished mahogany in the sunlight.

  "You look like a little girl rolling in the grass on the first day of summer," the man said with a warm, crooked smile.

  Marc was here, teasing her? Impossible. She didn’t know why, but she felt ce
rtain this dream was supposed to be about Prosser Teomond. And yet here he was, Marc smiling down at her, his whimsically handsome face alight with an affection she’d never seen before. Yule could barely comprehend it.

  "I—I can touch Atlantis," she stammered, uncertain about how to explain what she felt to him. "I’ve come home and it’s happy to see me—I can stand on all of it at once and—I don't understand what's happened to me."

  "Do you need to understand?" Marc asked, grinning more widely now.

  Yule returned the grin. "No, it doesn’t feel like something I need to figure out. I think whatever is happening will keep happening whether or not I understand, but that’s okay." She was surprised when he dropped to his knees beside her, reaching out to cup her cheek in one strong hand. Not expecting the gesture, she flinched, but quickly relaxed into the caress of his warm palm.

  "You’re a fountain for thirsty eyes," the man murmured fondly.

  "What does that mean?" Yule asked, afraid to believe what was happening, and afraid to acknowledge too soon that it was a dream.

  "Must you always have an answer for everything that happens?" Marc teased. "Accept this for what it is, even if you don’t know what it is." His thumb traced a gentle path over the bow of her lips. "Enjoy yourself, Yule. I’m here for you."

  Then Marc did something Yule wanted him to do since that first shared moment in a coffee house in Catahiti when he’d spoken so fervently about the Reclamation Project. Cupping her face in both of his hands, Marc simply looked at her. He looked at her without the usual underscore of distraction for some new cause. He looked at her with all of his attention—with love and longing. It made Yule’s breath stop and made her want to shout her happiness all the way to the lazy white clouds drifting above them in the sea-azure sky.

  "You’ve haunted my dreams every night since we met, do you know that?" When Yule shook her head in disbelief, Marc smiled. "It's true. I'm ensnared by the spell of your eyes. It makes me want you more than anything else. If it’s magic I can’t break the enchantment, I can’t even want to."