“So, it took us a while to answer your question,” he said quietly, just to Rosie, looking into her rain-silver eyes.
“But it was worth answering,” she said.
“It’s the beginning. Not the end.”
He hated goodbyes—remembering those awful times in prison when Rosie had left after visiting time—and it was as hard, giving a last embrace to his mother and father, to Jon and even to Lucas, who promised he would follow on later. Of course, he would see them all again. With the Otherworld, however, you could never be completely sure.
A breeze cooled their skin as he and Rosie climbed hand-in-hand up the rugged path out of Ginny’s valley. Birch trees shivered around them, their trunks ghostly white against the rough velvet of the grass. “So I missed the Night of the Summer Stars,” said Sam. “How was it?”
“Fantastic,” said Rosie. “Jon kissed me.”
“Right, that’s it. I’m going to kiss Matthew. With tongues.”
“It was a goodbye kiss—after he informed me that he’s in love with Lucas.”
Sam rolled his eyes. “I told you Jon was as gay as a nine-dollar note and you didn’t believe me.”
“Could’ve gone either way, I think.” She grinned. “Also, I punched Comyn and nearly knocked him out.”
“What?” Sam was delighted. “Why?”
“Because it’s what you would have wanted. In fact, when I did it, I was you.”
“You were always talking to me,” he said quietly, another memory waking. “You never left me. I never left you, either. Our fylgias were always together. You know, don’t you, that if you hadn’t pulled me out, I would have pulled you in?”
His words lit an eerie flame in her eyes. “Sam, you didn’t miss the best part of the night,” she murmured. “We were Estalyr together. When Aetherials dream, what do we create?”
“Right now, my dreams are creating a hot bath with a naked woman, lots of coffee, and several days in bed—not all of them sleeping. Oakholme, sweet Oakholme.”
By the time they neared the top, the horizon was liquid gold, and the valley behind them entirely lost in the folds and foliage of the landscape. Although bone-weary, they climbed the rest of the way with renewed strength until they rose over the valley rim and into the oceanic glow of dawn.
Rosie stretched, arching her back. “God, it’s been a long night,” she said with a heartfelt sigh.
He raised a suggestive eyebrow at her. “So how about you let me take you home?”
“Best offer I’ve had . . . since the last time I saw you.” Her sleepy eyes were beautiful, her face pale but softly radiant, rose-petal mouth curved in a slight smile.
“And all this time—you’ve been waiting for me, Foxy?”
“All my life, Sam.” She rose on tiptoe to kiss him. “I was always waiting for you.”
About the Author
Freda Warrington grew up Leicestershire, England. She spent her first years out of school as a graphic designer and illustrator and eventually became a full-time writer. She began writing short stories at a very early age, and by nineteen she had her first novel well under way. She has written seventeen novels, including the Jewelfire trilogy and the Blood Wine sequence, all of which have been published in the U.K. Elfland, the first novel of a new series, Aetherial Tales, is her first book to be published in the United States.
Table of Contents
Cover
Title
Copyright
Dedication
Prelude Life with the Cold Prince
Interlude Zeitgeist
1 The House of Broken Dreams
3 King of Elfland
4 About a Bull
5 Not Quite Narnia
6 Battle of the Demons
7 Self-Defense
8 Dumannios
9 Blackdrop
10 September Will Be Magic
11 Sleepwalking
12 Queen of Fire
13 Over the Threshold
14 In the Garden
15 The Crone Oak
16 Transformation
17 Spiral Fire
18 Kissing the Mirror
19 Snowfall
20 Winter Light
21 Pandora’s Box
22 Persephone’s Chamber
23 The Tears of the Caged God
24 Last Days of Empire
25 Dawn
26 When We Dream
About the Author