Faltering, I stammered, “You’re wearing it?”
“Is it not for me?” he asked.
“It is. I…” I turned away and covered my face with my hands. Micah was obviously fine, and I’d freaked out over nothing. “Why didn’t you wake me?” I whispered. “Or… or dreamwalk to me?”
“You looked so exhausted. I couldn’t bear to disturb you.” Then Micah’s hands were on my shoulders, and I leaned against him. He was warm. Solid. Safe. “Forgive me, my Sara. I meant no offense.”
“You didn’t offend . It’s just…” I gulped some air, and started again. “They took Max.”
“Max?”
“My brother. They just took him.” Micah shifted so we faced each other and wrapped his arms around me, and for a moment I just enjoyed being in his arms. Never mind that I’d known him for less than a week, or that his presence in my life only meant danger. I’d never been as happy and relieved as I was in that moment, knowing that the Peacekeepers hadn’t taken him.
“Come,” he said suddenly, drawing me lower into the valley. When I asked where he was taking me, he replied, “To my home.”
“I need to get to work,” I protested. Everyone at Real Estate Evaluation Services started their workday promptly at nine, lunched at noon, and left at five. It was much easier for the drones to keep track of everyone if we all kept the same basic schedule and, since overtime hours were input to an official database, there were no stragglers. This also meant that, if I showed up more than ten minutes late, there would be an official report. More than four hours late meant my job would be forfeit.
“No,” Micah said, firmly. “Not until you have told me all you know of those who have taken your brother, who may also attack me.”
“They’ve taken others,” I mumbled. Micah’s only response was to squeeze my hand, but it was enough.
It was only a short walk across the dell to Micah’s little castle. ‘Castle’ really wasn’t the proper term for his home, but it was full of turrets and arched windows, and I couldn’t bring myself to call such a grand structure a house. It was so much, much more than what that simple word conveyed. But then, it did not have a drawbridge, and thus no moat and no moat monster. Pity.
As we approached, I caught sight of two figures lurking on the far ridge. I was still pretty shaken up from my run-in with Peacekeeper Jerome, and my first thought was that they were an Otherworldly police force. “Who are they?”
“Iron warriors,” Micah replied.
“Will they…is it safe for them to be here?”
Micah tightened his arm about my shoulders. “Of course,” he murmured. “I would never let anything harm you, my Sara.”
Gods. I hope he means that .
The whole of Micah’s home was a reflective gray, oddly bluish in the morning light, and as we drew nearer I finally appreciated the beauty of the silver structure. I suppose it was only natural for Micah Silverstrand to reside in a silver abode, but I was awed nonetheless. The metal walls and roof were brushed in offsetting squares, mimicking shingles. It was pristinely maintained, save for a bit of tarnish close to the ground, but that was only on the exterior. Inside, the walls gleamed as though they had just been polished. To spare our eyes, the glare of the white metal was offset by many thick rugs in claret and burgundy hues, and the walls were adorned with intricate tapestries.
“You really live here?” I murmured, staring up a silver staircase. The risers and banister were studded with opals, and a massive ruby sat atop the newel post.
“I do,” Micah replied, his bemused smile having returned.
“Does your family live here, too?”
“No. There is only me.” He guided me past the staircase and into an elfin version of a front parlor. Portraits, both full-size and miniatures, graced the walls, and there was even a mantle that held what looked to be mementos. Family heirlooms, maybe? I found myself wondering
“Is it not for me?” he asked.
“It is. I…” I turned away and covered my face with my hands. Micah was obviously fine, and I’d freaked out over nothing. “Why didn’t you wake me?” I whispered. “Or… or dreamwalk to me?”
“You looked so exhausted. I couldn’t bear to disturb you.” Then Micah’s hands were on my shoulders, and I leaned against him. He was warm. Solid. Safe. “Forgive me, my Sara. I meant no offense.”
“You didn’t offend . It’s just…” I gulped some air, and started again. “They took Max.”
“Max?”
“My brother. They just took him.” Micah shifted so we faced each other and wrapped his arms around me, and for a moment I just enjoyed being in his arms. Never mind that I’d known him for less than a week, or that his presence in my life only meant danger. I’d never been as happy and relieved as I was in that moment, knowing that the Peacekeepers hadn’t taken him.
“Come,” he said suddenly, drawing me lower into the valley. When I asked where he was taking me, he replied, “To my home.”
“I need to get to work,” I protested. Everyone at Real Estate Evaluation Services started their workday promptly at nine, lunched at noon, and left at five. It was much easier for the drones to keep track of everyone if we all kept the same basic schedule and, since overtime hours were input to an official database, there were no stragglers. This also meant that, if I showed up more than ten minutes late, there would be an official report. More than four hours late meant my job would be forfeit.
“No,” Micah said, firmly. “Not until you have told me all you know of those who have taken your brother, who may also attack me.”
“They’ve taken others,” I mumbled. Micah’s only response was to squeeze my hand, but it was enough.
It was only a short walk across the dell to Micah’s little castle. ‘Castle’ really wasn’t the proper term for his home, but it was full of turrets and arched windows, and I couldn’t bring myself to call such a grand structure a house. It was so much, much more than what that simple word conveyed. But then, it did not have a drawbridge, and thus no moat and no moat monster. Pity.
As we approached, I caught sight of two figures lurking on the far ridge. I was still pretty shaken up from my run-in with Peacekeeper Jerome, and my first thought was that they were an Otherworldly police force. “Who are they?”
“Iron warriors,” Micah replied.
“Will they…is it safe for them to be here?”
Micah tightened his arm about my shoulders. “Of course,” he murmured. “I would never let anything harm you, my Sara.”
Gods. I hope he means that .
The whole of Micah’s home was a reflective gray, oddly bluish in the morning light, and as we drew nearer I finally appreciated the beauty of the silver structure. I suppose it was only natural for Micah Silverstrand to reside in a silver abode, but I was awed nonetheless. The metal walls and roof were brushed in offsetting squares, mimicking shingles. It was pristinely maintained, save for a bit of tarnish close to the ground, but that was only on the exterior. Inside, the walls gleamed as though they had just been polished. To spare our eyes, the glare of the white metal was offset by many thick rugs in claret and burgundy hues, and the walls were adorned with intricate tapestries.
“You really live here?” I murmured, staring up a silver staircase. The risers and banister were studded with opals, and a massive ruby sat atop the newel post.
“I do,” Micah replied, his bemused smile having returned.
“Does your family live here, too?”
“No. There is only me.” He guided me past the staircase and into an elfin version of a front parlor. Portraits, both full-size and miniatures, graced the walls, and there was even a mantle that held what looked to be mementos. Family heirlooms, maybe? I found myself wondering
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