Ch.22 A Thousand Words

Chapter 22

As Wren used the back of his pen to scratch his forehead, his eyes roamed over the words on the page of the book in his lap. The night had grown cold and he wished he could add more wood to the fire, but he did not want to risk the smoke alerting anyone of their presence in the home.

Birdie had fallen asleep on the red velvet sofa by the fire after she had found a wool shawl to cover herself. Her knees were drawn up to her chest and to Wren it seemed as if she was trying to curl up into a ball.

Her silver hair was a mess of tangles. Falling wildly around her shoulders and hanging off the edge of the sofa. Her pink full lips were parted and the tips of her cheeks were starting to turn red from the amber's heat.

Wren's eyes flickered up to her every now and then as he tried to think of a way to take the brass cuffs off. He did not like that his uncle had this advantage over him. The kingdom was his. He should know all the ins and outs of the place. Who the hell did Darian think he was to mess with his kingdom?

But as Wren sat glaring at the brass cuffs around the girl's wrists, he felt his attention shift to his book once more. His father would be proud of him for coming so far with the research. He finally had a lead, after so many years of thinking he was just looking for something that did not exist.

Deep in his thoughts about his father and uncle, Wren almost didn't notice the way Birdie's brows furrowed in her sleep. If it weren't for the way she shivered and whimpered, he would have missed out on seeing the terror flash across her sleeping face.

The girl's peaceful features twisted as if she was seconds from bursting into tears. Her bottom lip quivered as she tried harder to curl up into a ball on the sofa.

"Stop..." Birdie whimpered, the corner of her eyes watering. "No.No.No. Stop."

Lowering his book, Wren rose from his seat. He walked around the desk and made his way over to the sofa with silent footsteps.

"No!" Birdie's voice grew louder. "No! Please! Stop!"

"Birdie?" Wren called to her.

"No!" Birdie yelled, throwing the shawl off of her and turning her face away from the fire.

"Birdie," Wren stepped closer.

The rivers running down Birdie's face glistened from the light of the fire. Her nose was read as she shivered and whimpered in fear in her sleep. She had begun to weep, begging someone to stay away.

Not knowing if he should touch her, Wren kneeled beside the sofa and cautiously reached out.

"Birdie..."

As soon as Wren's hand touched the side of her face, Birdie screamed.

Jumping up, Wren threw his hand over her mouth and muffled her cry. But his action only scared her even more.

Birdie began to kick and fling her arm around with despracy as more tears gushed out of her eyes.

"Look at me, look at me," Wren urged her. "It's a dream. It was just a dream."

With her pulse racing under his hand, Wren watched Birdie's eyes focus on him. He could only see her gaze over his hand but it was more than enough to speak a thousand words to him.

She was terrified.

Traumatized and frightened beyond belief.

Her tears rolled off her cheeks and ran down Wren's hand over her mouth. She tried to move away but stilled when she realized Wren was holding her arm.

"It was just a dream," Wren said once more. "I'm going to move my hand now, okay? Don't make a sound."

With extreme slowness, Wren lowered his hand from her mouth. He didn't let go of her out of fear she might fall off the sofa. Their gaze locked as the fire reflected in Birdie's silver eyes.

"He...." Birdie hiccuped, her eyes filling with tears yet again. "He...he put his hand...."

Wren felt the adrenaline in his body swim in his heart with anger and disgust. He knew exactly who Birdie was referring to.

"I couldn't breathe," Birdie weeped. "He was hurting me."

"He's gone now," Wren tried to comfort her. "He can't hurt you anymore. Or anyone."

Closing her eyes to gather herself up, Birdie nodded her head. But with each breath she took, her sobs grew harder. Her hands flew up to cover her face from the fey in front of her as she shook with tears in her eyes.

Wren did not know what to say or do as he kneeled in front of the sofa with his hands resting on Birdie's knees. He sat patiently listening to her cry as his brain raced to come up with something to say.

"It was just a dream," the fey found himself saying for the hundredth time.

"I know," Birdie cried. "But I could feel him....."

She lowered her hands and gagged.

"I could feel him touching me," Birdie said.

"He's dead now," Wren offered. "We took care of it, remember?"

"I want to go home," Birdie's chin quivered.

"You will," Wren said. "I promise. I'll take you home."

Birdie did not reply. She lowered her gaze and wiped her eyes with the back of her hands. Wren watched her with keen eyes, tempted to smooth over her hair from her face. Despite the shill in the room, Birdie had worked up a sweat from her nightmares. Her long silver locks stuck to the base of her neck like silver threads, making Wren want to push them back with his fingers. Without thinking, Wren raised his hand.

Still shaken from her dreams, Birdie flinched.

Wren froze.

Their gaze locked.

A second ticked by before Birdie shoved his hand off of her knee and scooted back out of his reach.

"Sorry," Wren cleared his throat and stood up.

Birdie kept her watchful gaze on the fey as he moved away and took a seat on one of the ottomans by the fire. She pulled the shawl over herself once more and pulled her knees up to her chest. Her back rested against the sofa as she leaned her chin on top of her knees.

"Did I wake you?" She asked, her voice very tired and quiet.

"No," Wren shook his head, his eyes on the dying fire. "I wasn't sleeping."

"You were reading again."

"Yes," Wren chuckled.

Beside the crackling of the low fire, there was no other sound between the two. Wren poked the log with the metal rod trying to get all the sides burnt.

"Can I ask you a question?" He asked.

"What is it?" Birdie wondered.

"In some of the books I read, it mentioned a species called human," Wren looked up.

"That's not really a question."

"Are they real?"

"Humans?" Birdie arched her brow.

"Yeah."

"Yes," Birdie nodded. "They're real...."

"Why?"

"Excuse me?" Birdie asked in confusion.

"Do they have abilities?"

"No."

"Can they shift like werewolves or cast spells like witches?"

"No."

"What's their purpose?"

"I don't know."

"Wow," Wren pondered. "A group of species that do nothing."

"They do stuff," Birdie shook her head. "They build cities. Run governments. Police themselves."

"But they're weak."

"Maybe..." Birdie said. "But they're resilient."

Wren slowly nodded.

"What?" Birdie asked. "Why do you look like that?"

"Just thinking."

"About?"

"A species beneath all of us. Millions of them," Wren said. "No need for brass cuffs or enchanted whips. They could be bent to anyone's will."

"You're sick," Birdie glared. "You're thinking of enslaving the human race."

"Thinking something and actually doing it are two different things."

"Every action starts with a thought."

"Maybe."

"They won't bend to your will."

"And why not?" Wren laughed.

"My family has sworn to protect them," Birdie said. "My great grandfather has been doing so for hundreds of years. We protected them from even the gods they worshiped."

"But can you protect them from us?" Wren arched a brow. "Gods fall from grace all the time."

"And so will you if you think so highly of yourself," Birdie reminded him.

Wren laughed as he turned his attention back to the burning log. He had millions of questions in his mind about what Earth was like. But he wanted to pace himself. The trauma from the day's events were catching up to Birdie. Who knew how long it would take before she started to panic from the reality of what almost happened to her.

"How long will we stay here?" Birdie asked, breaking the silence.

"Until day break."

"And then?"

Taking in a deep breath, Wren straightened up and ran a hand through his dark hair, "We're going to go see an old friend of my father's. He might be able to help us with the cuffs."

"And then?"

"Must you ask so many questions?"

"Must you keep everything to yourself?"

"I am not keeping everything to myself," Wren said. "I'm sharing information with you."

"Not the whole plan," Birdie argued. "I need to know what the plan is. What do we do after the cuffs are off?"

"We go find the portal to Earth."

"How?"

"With my research."

"You don't know jack shit, do you?"

"Excuse me?" Wren arched a brow.

"You won't tell me anything because you don't know anything."

"If this is your attempt at trying to egg me on to get information then I must tell you that you suck at this manipulation thing."

"Trust me," Birdie snorted. "If I wanted to manipulate you, you would be under my spell right now."

"What's stopping you?"

Narrowing her eyes, Birdie held up her cuffs, "These!"

Wren's eyes lingered on Birdie for a few seconds before he spoke very slowly.

"A jinn does not need magic to manipulate," he said. "Your wit, your cunning nature, and your silver tongue is a mighty weapon you wield."

"Was that a compliment?"

"An observation."

"Sounds like you're an admirer."

"Can't be," Wren shrugged. "There is much to admire."

The fey watched his bitter words sink into Birdie's skin and make her eyes narrow with disgust. Her mouth twitched as the tip of her nose turned red. Wren wondered if that always happened when she was angry.

"Come here," he said, letting go of the rod and rising from the stool he had been sitting on.

"Why?" Birdie asked.

"You want to know the plan, correct?" Wren held back the smile as he watched Birdie slowly climb off the sofa and follow him without an argument.

Together, they walked over to the desk where Wren had pulled out a few books. He picked up the map beneath it all and laid it out for Birdie to see.

"Do you see this?" Wren held up the candle stick over the map and pointed to Desarati.

"Yes," Birdie nodded, her eyes alert.

"Right outside the walls of Desarati is a vast wasteland. It's called the Glass Land. That's where we will go after the cuffs are off."

"Why?" Birdie asked.

"Somewhere in the desert is a gate. According to the stories, there are four gates hidden in our world that lead to Earth. But they only open on a full moon and if all four gates have their gemstone."

"Please tell me you have the gemstones and you know where the other three gates are," Birdie looked up at Wren. "Please."

"I know where three of the gates are."

"Damn it."

"And I only have three of the gemstones."

"Fuck."

"But this is a start," Wren rolled his eyes. "We start with the three we know and then I'm sure we will find clues about the fourth gate."

"And if we don't?"

"Then you are stuck here with me forever."

"I'm going to kill myself."

"So dramatic."

"What are the gemstones?"

"Jade for the land, aquamarine for the water, and amethyst for the air."

"Earth, water, air, and fire," Birdie said to herself.

"Not Earth. Land."

"Same shit," Birdie clicked her tongue. "So the fourth gate is fire related."

"Must be."

"Are the other three related to their elements?"

"The one Desariti is air."

"Deserts have strong winds."

"So do mountains, but the land gate is behind the falls."

"Mountains are made of land. It's a landform."

"I think you're reaching."

"How did you find these gates?"

"My father did," Wren looked down at the map.

"Did he have any ideas where the fourth one might be?"

"He didn't get to share that part with me."

"Why not?"

"Because he was killed."

"Oh..." Birdie frowned. "I'm sorry."

"I'm going to get you back to Earth," Wren did not look up from the map.

"Wren..."

"It's the only way I'll prove to everyone my father wasn't crazy."

_______________________________

Maya felt Heyder's presence as soon as her ears picked up his footsteps in the hall. The knife in her hand stilled as she watched the jinn from the corner of her eyes.

Heyder entered the kitchen and paused as soon as his eyes found Maya. His hair was messy and his clothes looked as if he had slept in them for days. There were no rings on his fingers except his wedding band.

As Maya slowly chopped the strawberries, she felt Heyder take a step out of the kitchen and turn to leave.

"If you're going to avoid me, then why did you ask me to come back here?" She asked, placing the knife down on the board.

"I'm not avoiding you," Heyder stilled and turned to look at her.

"No?" Maya arched her brow. "You walk out of the room whenever I come in or you avoid coming into a room if I'm already inside. You don't come down for food and I think you spent more hours at court this week than you did your whole life."

"I'm not avoiding you," Heyder said once more, slowly and quietly as if he was a child being disciplined. "I'm just giving you space."

"What happened to your arm?"

"What do you mean?" Heyder looked down at his tattoo covered arms.

"There," Maya pointed to his left forearm. "What happened?"

Heyder's eyes landed on the burn mark.

"Brass," he said.

Maya arched her brow, waiting for a better explanation.

"I was looking through Maaz's stuff and didn't know he kept brass cuffs," Heyder said.

"Why hasn't it healed yet?"

"I don't know," Heyder shrugged. "It's fine. I'm not bothered by it."

"If you don't heal it, it will get infected."

"I'll have Clare take a look at it."

Maya nodded. She felt her heart squeeze as the jinn turned on his heels to head back upstairs.

"Wait," she called out before she changed her mind.

"Yeah?" Heyder stopped once more.

Maya shifted her weight and pointed to the stools at the kitchen counter.

"I'm making breakfast," she said.

"I'm not hungry."

"Fine."

Maya bit down on the inside of her cheeks as her irritation flared. She was so furious with this man, yet he was the center of her attention. Always.

Knowing he was on very thin ice with Maya, Heyder slowly walked over to the counter and sat down on a stool. He didn't say a word as Maya placed the breakfast plate in front of him and made him his black coffee.

"Thank you," he said when she sat down beside him.

"Let me see your arm."

"It's fine, really," Heyder tried to say. But Maya had already taken his arm and wrapped her hands over his wound.

In silence, the jinn watched the witch's lips move as she chanted a spell. Her hands warmed, pushing in bursts of energy into his body as she healed him like he had healed her millions of times before.

"Thanks," Heyder said when Maya pulled back.

"You're welcome."

Slowly I'm settling into my normal life again. Hope you liked it.