The Tanglewood Witches Read online

  “Not always. Just you. What are you?”

  “I recall asking you the same thing, and still I have no answer. Are you Hermes, the winged god?”

  “I told you I am not a god.”

  “Then what?”

  “Are you a nymph? You don’t look like a nymph.”

  The base of Medea’s skull tingled, and her father’s warnings screamed in her brain. Technically they were not supposed to be living in the garden. Who was this man who dropped out of the sky? Surely it would not behoove her to tell him the truth. But lying seemed equally risky. She had no idea who he was or what he already knew about her.

  “I am no more or less exactly who I am, a lifelong resident of Hera’s garden and thankful for my life here.”

  He smiled, and the sheer radiance of his white teeth and his dimpled cheek made her heart slam against her rib cage. Surely he’d lied. He must be a god with a face like his. He was too perfect to be anything else.

  “Now I’ve told you what I am, I deserve the same respect.”

  “I…” He hesitated, his eyes roving over her as if he was trying to decide if he should trust her. “I am the Guardian at the Gate. I saw you in the field today and did not recognize your kind.”

  All her muscles tensed in horror as she realized what he meant. All the signs were there. The amber eyes, the obsidian wings lined with gold. Could this be the transformed dragon? Truly the Guardian at the Gate?

  “You are the dragon transformed?” She forced herself to swallow past the lump of fear forming in her throat.

  He bowed at the waist. “Although you say you were born here, I’ve never seen you before this morning. I was unaware any creatures but nymphs lived here.”

  “We rarely go near the gate, but my sisters wanted to see the flowers.”

  He rubbed the side of his jaw. “Nymphs rarely spend time there, but then you are not a nymph, are you?” His tone sounded accusatory, but then his question wasn’t a question at all.

  Medea licked her lower lip. “I’ve never had a need to call myself the same or different from the others who live among us. I simply am, as are my sisters.”

  “Because you were born here.” His eyes narrowed and his nostrils flared as he sniffed her. She wondered what she smelled like to him. Probably the waterfall as she’d only now come from swimming in the pool at its base.

  “Is that all you wish to know?”

  He gave a low growl, his eyes snapping to hers. His chin bobbed in a nod. “I am relieved. For a moment I worried you didn’t belong.”

  She forced a smile. “Doesn’t everything belong here? Who could get by you, or through the gate, but perhaps a god?” She looked him over from head to toe. “How is it you look like a man?”

  He hesitated a moment as he seemed to contemplate her question. The corner of his mouth twitched, his full lips enchanting her. “I transform into a dragon. I am both, dragon and man.”

  Medea desperately wanted to see him change, but she knew she was already pushing her luck engaging as she was in this conversation. “I should go.” She gestured over her shoulder. “My sisters are waiting for me.”

  He bowed formally. “Of course. I have distracted you from your activities.”

  She turned slowly to start down the path but couldn’t stop herself from glancing back. How stunning he was, standing there, watching her. “What is your name?”

  The question seemed to startle him, as if it was the last thing he presumed she’d ask. “Tavyss,” he said. “And yours?”

  “Medea.” Oh, her parents would be horrified to know she’d given the guardian her true name. She chewed her lip. “It was very nice to meet you. Tavyss.”

  “You as well,” he said. When she turned again to the path, he blurted, “Perhaps we will speak again?”

  It was a foolish thing to agree to, but before Medea could stop herself, she met his compelling gaze. “I’d like that very much.”

  Chapter Four

  Everything about the woman was intriguing. Skin like freshly poured cream, hair the color of a raven’s wings. She’d smelled of wild orchids. He’d been entranced by the way the water lapped her sides like a thousand azure tongues as she skimmed across the surface of the pool. How he’d longed to feel what the water had. What must it be like to surround her, to caress her like a wave?

  And so over the following weeks, he visited her at her pool time and time again, always careful to wait until her sisters had gone on their way. He wanted her all to himself. Although the reason was still unclear to him, he found her absolutely fascinating.

  “Have you come again to guard me, Tavyss?” she’d call to him in the tree.

  “It is my duty,” he’d respond before dropping down to her side and talking to her for a few precious moments. She was incredibly intelligent and well-read for having spent her life inside the garden, and they would often discuss the legends of the gods or gossip about the garden nymphs.

  “You’ve never told me, Tavyss, do you have family here?”

  He rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m alone. I have been for some time.”

  Her lips flattened in poorly disguised pity. “I don’t know what I’d do without my sisters.”

  With a shrug, he added, “I have a family, but I left them when Hera offered me this position. In truth, I needed somewhere to go, and it was a convenient escape.”

  “Surely you must have friends among the nymphs,” she stated. “Even I have nymphs I speak to regularly. The creatures love to help with daily activities.”

  “There is one who cleans my cottage, but he has very little to say. His name is Relkin. I think he might be afraid of me.”

  A ghost of a smile teased beneath her sideways glance. “Just because you turn into a scaled beast with teeth as long as I am tall? The nerve.”

  “I would never eat a nymph.”

  She narrowed her eyes, a thought occurring to her. “What do you eat?”

  “Sheep. A perk of being the guardian is I’m allowed to hunt the golden sheep.”

  Her eyebrows shot into her hairline. “It’s you who takes the sheep? I’ve wondered since I was a little girl.”

  “They’re what I eat.”

  “I thought it was forbidden.”

  “Not for me.” He winked at her and took a seat on the branch.

  She studied him with her pale blue eyes. What went on inside her lovely head? Medea was an enigma, brave to trust him as she did but also vulnerable. Without claws or sharp teeth, she was utterly defenseless. And didn’t that make him surprisingly desperate to protect her?

  “Can I ask you something about the sheep?” Her eyes narrowed on his wings.

  He nodded.

  “Do they taste the same as regular sheep?”

  A dimple appeared in his right cheek with his half smile. “There’s a metallic aftertaste.” He laughed then until his stomach hurt. Sobering, he handed her a book from his personal library. “I brought you a gift.”

  “The Saddle of Arythmetes?” she read off the cover.

  Thank the Mountain she could read his language.

  “It’s a difficult read, to be sure, but one I think you’ll find fascinating.”

  She turned the leather volume in her hands. “Oh? What’s it about?”

  “This book was written by one of the very first Paragonian philosophers, a famous teacher and dragon shifter named Plintolemy. The story is about a hero named Arythmetes who discovers after a series of challenges in the five kingdoms that each of the communities plays a vital role in sustaining his world. Fairies, elves, dragons, witches, and even vampires are important contributors and only a peaceful coexistence will lead to ultimate prosperity.”

  She cradled the book in her hands, her blue eyes twinkling with her excitement. “Thank you, Tavyss. I feel like since I’ve met you, you’ve opened a door for me. Ironic, considering you guard the gate.”

  He perused her face, his gaze settling on her mouth. “I feel the same way.”

  She la
ughed, bumping her shoulder into his. “But you’re on the outside. You can go anywhere you want.”

  Shaking his head, he stared out over the pool. “I’m not as free as you think.”

  Tavyss landed outside the garden gate that night and entered the stone cottage that served as his home, feeling a sense of joy he hadn’t experienced in decades. Medea was the reason. Spending time with her woke him up. She saw beauty in the simplest things, things he took for granted. After starting a fire, he watched the flames dance inside the hearth and thought of her until the peacock feather he kept in a glass vase on his hearth began to glow. Then he thought of nothing. He schooled his features and prepared himself for the arrival of the goddess.

  “I need your help, dragon.” The bright light morphed into the familiar figure of a woman. Hera.

  Her blond hair and silver-white gown emitted a luminescence that filled the modest cabin. All gods emitted their own light, similar to a star or other celestial body, but Hera’s was not a warm, comforting glow. Her light always carried an edge. A threat. A flare before an explosion. Tavyss feared her, and rightly so. Only a fool wouldn’t.

  “Hera,” he said by way of greeting. He fell to his knees and bowed his head. “What is it that brings you into my company?”

  “Oh, get up. Aren’t we beyond this now?” Her fingers hooked under his chin, and he rose to look her in the eye, then quickly glanced away. Her hands lingered on his face, on his chest. His stomach squirmed at her touch. The sensation was too warm. Too strange. Still, he dared not pull away. One did not intentionally spurn a goddess.

  He cleared his throat. “How can I be of service?”

  She smoothed his shirt over his chest. “I’ve recently learned that something very important to me has gone missing.” She backed away. “A golden grimoire, a gift from Zeus to atone for an… indiscretion. It was stolen from its protected shrine in the underworld.”

  “When did this happen?” Tavyss asked. If the theft was recent, he might be able to pick up the scent of the perpetrator.

  “Sometime within the past fifty years.”

  “Fifty years—”

  “A blink in the eternity that is our immortal existence, wouldn’t you agree?” She folded her arms. “The last time I saw the book was around fifty years ago. Hades notified me it was missing yesterday. When exactly it went missing is anyone’s guess.”

  Tavyss rubbed the back of his neck and the short hair at the base of his skull. He was neither a seer nor a bounty hunter. What did she want from him? “I don’t understand. What can I do? It’s likely been too long for me to pick up the scent of the thief.”

  She paced to the other end of the room, gliding her fingers across the back of the single wooden chair he kept there. “I have reason to believe the thief took my book to Ouros.”

  He shook his head. What would someone from his home world want with her book of spells? Unless it was one of the witches from the kingdom of Darnuith, but the notion that they would both know of the book and have the power to retrieve it seemed unlikely.

  “What would lead you to believe such a thing?”

  She scowled. “Because the indiscretion my husband was atoning for when he gifted me the grimoire was with the Goddess of the Mountain.”

  Tavyss inhaled sharply. The Goddess of the Mountain, Aitna, was the patron goddess of Ouros and the kingdom of Paragon, his homeland. All dragons came from the mountain and returned there if they were killed. Aitna was the goddess of all dragons, their most holy of holies.

  “Zeus, you see, gave me the grimoire but gave his lover something as well. My scrying glass will not show me Paragon. I cannot go there. I cannot search the five kingdoms of Ouros for the book myself.”

  “Do you believe it was Aitna herself who took the book?” Tavyss asked, despite his better judgment. Normally he would not question the goddess, but her accusation was too far-fetched for him not to. “As far as I am aware, she never leaves her mountain.”

  Hera grunted. “I know not who took it, only that, aside from this garden and Ouros, my looking glass sees all. We both know it’s not here in the garden—”

  “No, of course not…”

  “That leaves only Ouros.”

  “Are you suggesting I go there to search for it?”

  “More than suggesting. You will go and you will find it.”

  He bowed his head. “Forgive me, but I cannot. I am no longer welcome in Paragon or the Obsidian Palace. If my brother ever knew I had returned to Ouros, he would immediately have me killed. I am a threat to his crown.”

  She sighed. “Dear Tavyss. I wouldn’t ask you to risk your immortal existence if it wasn’t entirely necessary.”

  “You don’t understand—I have no power there anymore. I abdicated the throne. My presence… will be distracting and ineffective. I will have no hope of finding your book. The Paragonian regency is even now in transition. My sister will take over the throne from my mother this very year, and my younger brother will rule as co-regent at her side. My presence, as the older sibling, will be viewed as a threat to them despite my renunciation of the crown.”

  What frustrated him the most was that Hera knew that. When she offered him the position of Guardian at the Gate, he was open about his choice to flee the expectations of Paragon.

  “I am aware of the politics of your society.” She rolled her eyes toward the ceiling, clearly piqued. “What has this to do with me, dragon?”

  “I am only explaining why I cannot be of help to you if the book is truly in Ouros.”

  She scoffed. “Relax, Tavyss. I wouldn’t dream of forcing you to reclaim your birthright and challenge your brother for the throne.” She stalked toward him. “I need you here.” She stepped close to him, too close, and trailed her nails over his cheek. “All I expect of you is to journey to Paragon and ask your brother or sister for assistance. Surely it will be worth it to them to search for the book in exchange for your leaving Paragon promptly.”

  A muscle in his jaw twitched over clenched teeth. He’d already made it clear to her that the moment his feet touched Paragonian soil, his life would be at risk. She’d refused to listen, which meant her will was nonnegotiable. Any resistance could end up angering the goddess. Tavyss was a warrior, but he was no match for Hera. “If it pleases you, I can deliver this message and make the request, although I will not be able to search for the book myself without raising their ire and suspicion.”

  She pressed her lips against his cheek, close to his mouth. His skin crawled with the tingling heat she left there. Her scent was too sweet, almost cloying. It was all he could do to disguise his disgust.

  “It pleases me,” she purred.

  “Then I will go.” He broke away from her and crossed to the door. “Give me a few days’ time to make a plan for securing a formal audience with my siblings.”

  “Very well, dragon,” she said, drumming her fingers on her upper arm. “I’m counting on you.”

  Chapter Five

  “Medea!”

  Medea jerked as the water she was pouring into Isis’s jug overflowed the spout and ran onto her sister’s fingers. “Sorry,” she mumbled.

  Isis shook the excess water off and gave her a quizzical look. “What has gotten into you today?”

  “What? Nothing. I’m fine.” No way could Medea explain to Isis that her brain kept dwelling on a set of gold eyes and black wings. Tavyss was a delicious secret, a dark dream that brought a few moments of heart-pounding excitement into her day.

  “Isis is right,” Circe declared. “You’ve been distracted all morning. Father asked you what you wanted for breakfast and you said yes.”

  Isis giggled. “It wasn’t a yes or no question, Medea.”

  With a shrug, Medea said, “Tired, I guess.”

  “You’d better get your head on straight before we practice our magic. You’ll end up setting something on fire.” Isis flashed a dark smile.

  Her sister was right, she did need to clear her head. Medea always rea
d the spells, Isis performed any work with symbols or stones, and Circe worked with plants, roots, and potions. They each had their role, and if one of them was distracted, their spell fell apart.

  The only problem was that Medea seemed to have no control over her fleeting thoughts. She hadn’t stopped thinking about Tavyss since the last time they’d met beside the waterfall. He’d thoroughly captivated and charmed her.

  She longed to tell her sisters about him but hesitated. Circe and Isis were her only friends, and they’d always shared everything, but if she told them about Tavyss, would they worry about the repercussions? She’d been the one to convince them to do the spell in the marigold field. If they found out that the Guardian at the Gate had been watching them, a dragon who’d suddenly taken interest in who they were and had the power to reveal their existence to Hera, would they ever trust her again? Could they possibly fathom what he’d come to mean to her these past weeks?

  “Are you coming? The faster we get this water back to the house, the sooner we can practice!” Circe strode down the path toward the cottage, looking utterly frustrated.

  Medea stood slowly from the pool and sidled up to Isis, who was waiting for her, a dark glint in her eye.

  “Now you must tell me the truth. What is so distracting, sister?”

  “I didn’t sleep well last night,” Medea murmured.

  “This is more than lack of sleep.” Isis raised an eyebrow.

  After a moment’s hesitation, Medea asked, “Have you ever wondered about men?”

  “Men?” Isis frowned. “Like the human men from our books?”

  “Men like father but our age,” Medea said. “Men who might want to be with us like Father is with Mother.”

  “There are no men in the garden,” Isis said flatly. “Unless you have taken a liking to one of the male nymphs, but their bodies are strange, Medea. I don’t think they’d be physically compatible—”

  “I’m not attracted to a male nymph, Isis!” Medea exclaimed. “I’m simply asking, hypothetically, have you ever thought about men?”