Page 31 of The Deer and the Dragon
“I disagree.”
Silas hedged, trying a new tactic altogether. “Tread lightly. I don’t think the Nordes want to get involved. It’s not your war.”
She scoffed, though even her sarcasm kept a light, airy tone. With a voice like starlight, she said, “How about you let us decide what we do and do not want to involve ourselves in, mmkay?”
In the time I’d known him, Silas had worn a few masks.
He had been baffled when I’d first connected with his gaze many months ago. He’d bristled with agitation when standing between me and the pulpy remnants of the Cheshire cat. The self-assured look he’d worn into my apartment had vanished as a new frustration painted his features.
He locked onto me, burrowing through my glaze of confusion with eyes, which burned like matching halos. “Marlow, you wanted to see beyond the veil? I can do that. You want powerful angelic allies? I can offer that. You want—”
The word didn’t just trigger me. Fauna reacted as my stomach churned.
“‘Angelic’! Okay, we’ve had enough of you. Your would-be pawn and I have some catching up to do.” Fauna laughed at the heavenly moniker as she set to work. She planted her hands against his chest and shoulder, shoving him through the door. “Out you go! I have a long-lost citizen to talk to.”
Thieves’ oil and sea spray, masculine and feminine, frankincense and pine, angel and other, they were glitter and glow sandwiched between the kitchen appliances and the electronics of my very human living room. I tried to swallow, only to realize all the moisture had evaporated from my mouth.
I wondered if they’d notice if I reached around to pinch the bare flesh of my arm. Once. Twice. I had to have fallen asleep in the back of a cab after I left Nia’s, tumbling from one bizarre nightmare into another. I bit down on the inside of my cheek, hoping for a similarly rousing effect, wishing this were a dream.
Nothing changed, save for the painful rush of iron as blood filled my mouth.
Fauna gave Silas a hard push while I remained statue still, mere steps from my front door.
Silas was her physical superior in every way. He was nearly three times her size and knit entirely of battle-ready muscles. It certainly wasn’t force that urged him from the door. Heplanted his feet as he made his final plea. “Citizen is right,” he said, latching on to the last thing she’d said as he petitioned me for my attention. “Fauna is barely more than a civilian.”
“You’re one to talk,” she bit, teeth clenched as she pushed.
He had eyes only for me as his tone switched to pleading. “Let me take you into this, Marlow. You’ll enter the veil with a substantially higher ranking, access you can’t even imagine. You don’t know what you’re giving up if—”
“Hush” was all Fauna said as she gave him a hard, final shove. Even in her exertion, there was something intangibly mesmerizing about every move. When Silas’s feet crossed the threshold, he did not stand in the hall. The man vanished altogether.
I stared after the empty particles where he’d been as the door swung shut.
She slumped against the closed door and breathed in relief. “Useful sigils—true sight, that is. I haven’t seen that particular bit of art in the better part of a thousand years. The Prince’s idea, I’d guess?”
I stared at the gorgeous, chaotic creature.
“The Prince?” I repeated, devoid of comprehension.
Fauna cocked her head curiously. I struggled to look back, too overwhelmed by her celestial beauty. She took a few appraising steps toward me. When my face betrayed no connection, hers lit. “Are you to tell me you don’t…no, no, of course. That makes a lot of sense. We’d wondered why you hadn’t taken his offer. Sure, sure, he’s not one to brag. Though it would be easier for everyone if he had.”
She stepped away from the wall and slid onto the cream couch with ghostly grace. She patted the seat beside her, offering my own sofa to me. Every tap of her hands reminded me of the tinkling of silver bells.
Despite her effortless elegance, she remained utterly nonchalant.
“I don’t think I want you to be real,” I said to the embodied dream.
She rested an elbow on the back of the couch, relaxing her head onto her fist. Her lips quirked into a tilted smile as she asked, “Would you prefer this to be in your imagination?”
I squeezed my eyes shut and I said, “What I prefer doesn’t matter. I’ve been desperate to get back to Caliban, to access this world, but you…you can’t be real.” I opened my eyes, and yet she remained.
“I have evidence to the contrary, sweet pea. Come sit by me.”
“Who are you?” I asked. And because I didn’t know what else I could possibly do, I complied, quietly taking a seat several cushions away.
Despite her loveliness, a threatening undercurrent told me that if she wanted, she could rip my esophagus from my throat with a single snatch. The only thing I could do was ask my questions and hope for the best.
“I’m Fauna,” she repeated. “I’m…hmm. I’m trying to decide which words might strike a chord with you. What did you study again?”
