“You can take off your blindfold now,” Lioden’s disarming voice whispered in Alex’s left ear, covering her entire body with goose bumps.
She chuckled goofily. “I can’t. I’m too nervous.”
The air was ripe with the scent of spicy flowers, rich earth, and fragrant pine needles, and there was a gushing sound in the distance, like a fast-flowing river. Alex had been blindfolded the whole journey, so she had resorted to unlocking her Gate and strengthening her remaining senses. Cheating she knew, but the suspense was killing her.
The two had been riding atop Lioden’s grey mare Crescent for what felt like the better part of a day. The whole journey he had insisted she be blindfolded. In their last Waterwielding class together Lioden had proposed to take her to a secret spot only he knew about. After Alex had asked him to repeat himself (just to make sure she hadn’t misinterpreted him) and got some colour back into her face, she had agreed. Only on one condition, though.
In their last lesson, to work on their magical stamina, Master Garidion had the class levitating bowls of water that were turned upside down for as long as they could. If a student spilled so much as a drop, they had to sit out. Alex had playfully made a deal with Lioden that if he could hold up his bowl longer than she could, she would agree to his terribly disguised “date” proposal.
Alex knew Lioden couldn’t beat her—not many in the class could—but it was still funny watching his body tremble and face strain as he determinedly tried to keep the bowl upright. He had dropped to his knees in exhaustion, cursing under his breath as the clay bowl shattered on the ground.
The truth was, though, that whether he was to win or lose, Alex was still going to say yes. She just wanted to see what lengths Lioden would go to. And the kid didn’t disappoint. Garidion had to carry him into the shade and force water down his throat. Alex was still feeling guilty for putting him through that ordeal.
Before Alex could reach up and pull the blindfold off , Lioden was untying the knot from the back. The way his fingers grazed the back of her neck made her heart beat faster. When she finally opened her eyes, the view was more magical than anything she could have imagined.
They were standing on the bank of a river swarming with multi-coloured flora and fauna. The gushing noise she had heard earlier belonged to a breathtaking waterfall to her right, bubbling and foaming as the water crashed into the rocks of the riverbed below. As she bent forwards and looked down, the water was so crystal clear she could see a school of trout streamlining past, and even the smooth, smoke-coloured rocks covering the bottom of the river.
Alex glanced up and smiled. Royal blue-coloured birds smaller than her fists were singing enchantingly overhead while chasing one another from branch to branch. She twirled around. The sun was dipping below a canopy of trees, bathing the woods in its amber light one last time before it said its goodbyes for the evening. Alex thought this was serenity at its finest.
“And you say that no one knows about this place?” she asked, dumbfounded.
“Oh, people know about this place,” Lioden said as he tied up Crescent to a branch, “but this isn’t the place I’m taking you to.”
He ruffed up Crescent’s mane good-naturedly and then approached her, thrusting out his hand.
“Take it.”
Alex leaned over and looked into the fast-flowing river. Was he crazy? Did he want to jump in there together? The water would no doubt be below sixty degrees. Not to mention the current looked strong enough to drag away a hippopotamus.
“We’re not jumping in, are we?” she asked. “Surely not.”
“No questions,” Lioden said as he wiggled the fingers of his outstretched hand, “just take it.”
“I think I have every right to ask questions, Lioden. You have just abducted me, blindfolded me and—”
That’s all Alex could say before he had snatched her hand and had given it a squeeze.
“Don’t let go,” he ordered.
Seconds later, there was a cracking, whip-like sound, and Alex looked up to find Lioden’s head deteriorating away into what she could only describe as ash. The blood pounded in her ears as she tried to let go of his hand, but Lioden gripped hers even tighter, refusing to part.
The world darkened, and her body was completely immobilized, tingling with pins and needles all over. It felt like she had been locked in a deep freezer for a few hours. Then the feeling went away as quickly as it came. When Alex opened her eyes, she was safe and sound, standing with Lioden in a spacious cave.
Alex was stupefied. She presumed they must have been directly behind the waterfall because the roaring water was crashing down from an opening in front of her. But how did we get here?
She turned to ask Lioden, but as she did, another sight rendered her speechless. A golden blanket with rose-coloured trimmings was sprawled across the cave’s hard floor, and on top of that blanket was a basket with exposed food: fresh trout, sweet strawberries, an abundance of cheeses, freshly baked bread, and lemon tarts. And wineskins. Lots of wineskins.
Alex didn’t know how to react so she edged towards the gushing curtain of water, only as close as she dared. There was a small part in the waterfall where she could see out into the land below. The riverbank where she and Lioden had been standing just seconds ago was a hundred feet below them.
Alex felt idiotic it had taken her so long to figure it out. The very first day she had met Winstell he had mentioned his older brother was a Teleporter.
“You could’ve given me notice you were about to teleport,” Alex said, her back still to him. “Just to mentally prepare me. It’s not the most pleasant feeling, you know.”
Alex turned to find Lioden standing awkwardly atop the blanket, fidgeting with the collar of his white and gold doublet. His lips were pursed. Alex had never seen him this on edge before. So drained of his confidence.
“It’s too much, isn’t it?” Lioden blurted, running a hand through his hair as he sat down and huffed, “Blast, I knew it was. Even the woman at the fish market said I was coming on too strong.” He cradled his head in his hands. “Why did I get so many wineskins? A town drunk couldn’t even drink this much. So idiotic.”
“It’s perfect,” Alex said, not being able to contain her smile. She stepped away from the rapidly flowing water and took a seat, cross-legged, beside him.
“Not too overwhelming?” Lioden asked unsurely, casting her a sidelong glance.
“Not too overwhelming,” she echoed. “But I mean—” She stopped awkwardly, trying to select the right words to express herself. “Why, though?”
“Why what?” Lioden asked quizzically.
“Why go through all this trouble?” she cleared her throat as she added on, “for me?”
Alex felt so stupid saying it out loud, but she knew if she didn’t ask it then, it would’ve bugged her for eternity. She needed to know his exact reasoning. The nicest thing a guy had ever done for her was give her his pencil in sociology, and even then, he had hastily asked for it back. So, when a guy sets up an extravagant picnic date that would make most Disney princesses envious, of course her mind was going to wonder.
A trace of a smile played on Lioden's lips as he reached for something behind him.
“Spiced wine?” he asked, offering her a pre-filled copper goblet.
Alex had almost forgotten there was no legal age to drink in Nocera.
“I, uh, I, uh,” she paused, realizing how much she was sounding like Winstell. “I don’t drink wine.”
“No matter,” Lioden said, quickly flicking his wrist and emptying the goblet over his shoulder. “I brought blueberry iced tea as a backup. Although I daresay the ice has probably melted by now. The ride back took longer than I had expected.” He picked up a pitcher from the basket and poured it into her goblet.
“Thank you,” she said after he had handed it to her. “But you’re not as crafty as you think you are. There’s a question that still needs answering.”
“And answer it I cannot.”
“And why can you not?”
“Because—” Lioden exhaled through his nose deeply. “Because I am rather terrible at expressing my emotions.”
“A singer who can’t express his emotions?” Alex said, chuckling in disbelief. “You must be one in a million.”
“Rats, you seemed to have caught me out,” he said unconvincingly.
“The truth, Lioden,” she said, her face deadpan.
“The truth,” he repeated rubbing his chin. “The truth is that I believe I have overwhelmed you enough for one day. I shall now bite my tongue so as not to risk scaring you off for good, Taytora.”
Alex had smiled when he had said her name, even if it wasn’t her real one. Then, upon realizing she looked like an idiot, smiling for no apparent reason, she changed her face back to a neutral. Play. It. Cool.
“I give up,” Alex said, throwing her hands up. “You’re faster at dodging a subject than you are at Teleporting.”
Lioden smiled triumphantly as he served the trout, bread, and cheeses onto two plates.
“As your favourite element is water,” he said as he handed her a plate, “mine just so happens to be the element of surprise.”
“Oh really? The Masters at Baylor’s never told me about this element before,” she teased.
“Not surprising, really,” he said, scoffing. “It’s a newly discovered fifth element. Only the advanced students are being taught it.”
“Well, maybe if I studied as much as you did then I’d be considered an ‘advanced student’ as well,” she said coyly.
“Studied?” Lioden scoffed. “I’ve never studied a day in my life.”
Alex frowned. “But I always see you scribbling on parchment in the Great Hall?”
Lioden raised his eyebrows, almost as if he was encouraging her to work it out.
“You were never studying,” she said. “You were—”
“Writing songs,” Lioden finished, smiling with a closed mouth full of trout.
“But how are you . . . ” Alex paused stupidly. “Teleporting is one of the hardest Branches of magic, and you can make anyone look ridiculous with a sword in your hand. Are you telling me that’s all natural talent?”
“Enough about me,” Lioden said, turning to her expectantly, “let’s hear about Taytora.”
Now it was Alex’s turn to change the subject. Either that or make up a completely made-up back story for herself in which she didn’t originate from America and wasn’t from a technologically superior parallel universe.
“Caught this yourself?” Alex asked as she took a bite of the fish. It was seasoned with butter, salt, and pepper.
“Who’s avoiding the subject now?” Lioden teased. “Luckily for you, I’ll indulge your whims—just this once. I bought it from the fish market this morning.” He smiled crookedly. “Scaled it myself, though; that counts for something, right?”
Alex tried to respond, but the butter was running down her chin, so she quickly wiped it away with her sleeve. Damn it, Alex, where is your etiquette? Be a lady.
When she turned to see if Lioden had witnessed her mess-up, Alex found he had whipped out a golden viol. The instrument had a painted ivy-green snake wrapped around it.
Yep, she thought. He’s definitely a firm believer in the element of surprise.
“May I?” Lioden asked, glancing down at his instrument.
Alex sucked in air through her teeth. “Do you really want to risk scaring me away?”
Lioden mocked a look of sadness.
“You may,” she relented, bowing her head, “But no more tellings of famous mage duels. I want something happy, something uplifting.”
“Your request has been taken under advisement,” Lioden said, nodding his head. “Just a forewarning, though: My pitch might be a bit off; I didn’t account on this waterfall being so loud.”
“Stop making excuses,” Alex said teasingly as she took a sip of her lukewarm tea and waited for him to begin.
She had no recollection of when Lioden started or finished playing. The whole time it was as if she was in a beautiful trance, adrift in the music, watching absentmindedly as his fingers moved up and down the strings with impeccable timing and finesse. His voice was even more mesmerizing than when she had heard him in the Sleeping Willow. Pure and high, his face clinging on every emotion, every word, every change in pitch.
Lioden’s first song was foggy, but his second was about a high lord’s forbidden love for a tavern wench. And then his last was just like Alex had requested: an uplifting song about the two-headed deity Isliah and Hailsi. Both were interconnected—one side representing hope, purity and righteousness; the other, despair, greed and deceitfulness. And together they formed the world with their unparalleled magic.
“The lyrics were beautiful,” was all Alex could say when he had finished.
And then Lioden had smiled. A different smile from the others she had seen. This one was humbled, proud even. At that point, Alex could tell he was as passionate about his singing as she was her story writing. Nothing could wipe the smile off her face when Grandma had complimented one of her passages.
Lioden lifted his gaze, studying her deeply with those hypnotizing, turquoise eyes. “You are still here, which means I haven’t scared you off yet, which I think means I can risk one more surprise.”
Alex shook her head like an unrelenting child. “No. I told you I don’t like surprises.”
“You say you don’t, but your lips are telling me otherwise.”
She hadn’t even realized she was smiling. Darn this Lioden kid and his chivalrous swagger.
“Fine,” she said, exhaling forcefully. “Blindfold or no blindfold?”
“I think I can trust you enough to cover your own eyes.”
Alex unwillingly shielded her eyes with her hands, pondering if she should sneak a peek, but not wanting to get caught in the process. Has he written me a song?
The silence was agonizing, and just as she was considering branching out her remaining senses, Lioden had pressed a strawberry to her lips.
The little Romeo is hand feeding me, she thought.
Alex was on the verge of biting into it until she realized the thing he had pressed to her lips was not, in fact, a strawberry. Strawberries weren’t moist and strawberries sure as heck didn’t move. Alex’s stomach twisted. She was kissing Lioden Thyme’s lips.