Richelle Mead - Storm Born

“Well, I guess you’re going to have to go stake out Aeson’s 24/7, because I’m sure as hell not letting you in on the secret planning meetings.”

Some of his feral demeanor dropped, and suddenly he was relaxed, collected Kiyo again. “There are secret meetings? What are you guys now, the Superfriends?”

I rolled my eyes and walked past him, back to the crossroads and the warmer weather of Arizona. That ache in my chest, the one I’d had since Beltane, burned steadily the entire time. I hated what had happened to us, but I didn’t know how to fix it. I didn’t know how to forgive Kiyo.

I tried to get my mind on something else as I drove home, like planning the logistics of the next Jasmine rescue. Or, considering her resistance, maybe it would be more like a smash ’n’ grab. Regardless, I was eager to get it over with. Damn Dorian’s clause about my magic. And his stupid nobility about sex.

I was almost home when I drove past a Barnes Noble. An idea leapt into my brain, a strange one admittedly, but one that couldn’t hurt.

I hadn’t stopped thinking about how much potential I allegedly had with magic. For years, I’d relied on human magic-or rather the human ability to extract magic from the world. I could banish spirits and monsters. I could walk worlds. But this so-called power within me offered so much more, according to both Dorian and Maiwenn-not to mention my own barely remembered longings. I had resisted it at first, but now…now I wanted so badly to advance to higher levels. Dorian and I would meet tomorrow night for another session, and I hated the thought of more inactivity. He’d told me I had a lifetime to catch up on magic, but I didn’t want to wait that long. I wanted to close the gap.

Naturally, the store had no books on real magic. They only carried the silly and trumped-up commercial type stuff. But they did have a science section, and within that, I found a couple shelves on weather and meteorology.

I doubted these books would make me a magical dominatrix overnight, but actually knowing the science behind what I worked with had to help. It was something tangible, something I had more experience with than the weird, esoteric nature of magic itself. Volusian had once commented that as a child of both worlds, I could take the best of each lineage. I was both gentry and human. Magic and technology.

I spent over an hour skimming through books on storms, the atmosphere, and assorted weather phenomena. When the store made its closing announcement, I could hardly believe it. Time had flown by. Scooping up the ones I deemed most useful, I paid and went home.

“Reading is hot,” Tim told me when I walked in the door with my heavy bag.

I ignored him and retreated to my room. Dumping the books on the bed, I picked the most remedial-looking one and sat down at my desk, where the Eiffel Tower still lay unfinished. I hadn’t had time for puzzles lately. With a wistful last look, I swept the pieces up into the box and put it away. The tower would have to wait.

Shifting my legs into a comfortable position, I spread out the glossy, full-colored textbook. Flipping through the title pages and introduction, I finally found the meat of the book.

Chapter One: Moisture and the Atmosphere

Whatever snide comments Dorian and Maiwenn might make, Tucson is the best place in the world to live.

Standing at the desert crossroads the following evening, I paused a moment to take in my surroundings before crossing over. Dorian’s kingdom was certainly beautiful, but it just wasn’t the same. It wasn’t home. A soft wind cut through the dry air, ruffling my hair and whispering that spring would yield to summer soon. The breeze carried all the delicious smells of the desert, and I caught the sweet scent of mesquite-not the barbecue kind but the delicate perfume emitted by its fuzzy yellow blooms. Above me, the sun beat down without remorse, warning the weak to get the hell out. The tourist season tended to drop off with the sharp increase in temperatures, but I loved this time of year.

And all around me, in this dry and unforgiving heat, I could feel the unseen water. It was in the saguaros and the cactus wrens and the mesquite trees’ tap roots. There were even tiny bits in the air, despite the ostensible aridness. Everywhere there was life, there was water. Sensing it was second nature to me now. Calling it still remained a challenge.

Closing my eyes, I let my mind reach through the boundaries and send me into the Otherworld. Practice really did make perfect with these transitions; they were effortless now, just like sensing water. My body slipped through, pulled toward the corresponding thin spot near Dorian’s home. Before I could arrive there, however, I reached out toward the Slinky, using my stored essence as a magnet to pull me there instead of the road. Moments later, I appeared on Dorian’s bed.

“Presumptuous,” I muttered, swinging off of it and standing up. I picked up the Slinky and tossed it around, watching its rings arch and fall.

“Is that you, my lady?” I heard a tentative voice call. Seconds later, Nia’s young face peeked in from the other room. “His majesty is in the conservatory. If you’ll follow me?”

Wow. I’d never heard of anyone actually having a conservatory, outside of the game Clue. When Nia led me inside, I found Dorian standing in front of a canvas with a painter’s palette and brush in his hands. Dorian, in the conservatory, with the candlestick, I thought. Er, paintbrush.

He smiled when he saw me. “Lady Markham, you’re just in time. Perhaps you can amuse Rurik. He’s become terribly unreasonable.”

I glanced over to the side of the room where Rurik, the massive warrior with platinum blond hair, sat on a delicate chaise lounge upholstered in lavender velvet. He wore full leather and copper armor, and the entire juxtaposition made me wince.

“I don’t mean to be unreasonable, your majesty.” He spoke through gritted teeth. “But sitting here and not moving-while in armor-isn’t all that easy.”

“Bah, you’re whining. Most unseemly for a man of your station. Why, Lady Markham can stay still for hours-and in far more uncomfortable circumstances too, I might add.”

Rurik glanced at me, both startled and pleasantly intrigued.

“Don’t move! Look back here.”

Rurik’s leer faded as he turned back toward his king. Dorian’s canvas faced away from me, so I had no idea what his masterpiece looked like. I started to walk around and check it out, but he waved me off with the brush.

“No, no. Not until I’m finished.”

Shrugging, I pulled up another lavender chair-the entire room was that color, actually-and slouched into it. Dorian spoke without looking up from his work.

“So what have you done today, my dear? Anything entertaining?”

“Not really. Slept in. Banished a shade. I actually read for most of the day. Kind of lame.”

“What are you reading? I really enjoy that one human’s works…oh, I forget his name. He was very popular for a while. Shakemore?”

“Shakespeare?”

“Yes, that’s the one. Has he written anything new?”

“Um, not in, like, four or five centuries.”

“Ah, pity. So what did you read about instead?”

“The weather.”

He paused midstroke. “And what did you learn?”

“Storm-formation stuff. How water molecules build up and condense, how charged particles discharge to form lightning. Oh, and there was something else about high and low pressure, but I’ve got to go back and reread that. Kind of confusing.”

Both men treated me to brief, blank looks, and then Dorian returned to his work. “I see. And do you think this will facilitate your learning?”