Swords & Spells (Book One):The Magic of Emrys

Kiss of Conduct (Emrys)

Emrys heard Baelfire's voice before she had finished materializing: "Well, you've certainly been busy these past few days, Emrys. " He'd been sitting at the base of the Great Tree of Avalon, but rose as her features in the dream world began to solidify. The wicked smile that spread across his face did nothing to affect his looks. To Emrys' ire, he almost looked even more handsome.

"If you know that, you'll also know that I haven't gotten much sleep either. So please tell me you've a good reason for interrupting my first chance at real rest. Might I also add how grateful I am that you decided to refrain from helping me these past few days?"

He didn't seem the least bit bothered by her attitude. "It would seem you handled the situation quite well without my assistance," he said with a simple shrug.

Emrys clenched her fists and suddenly a circle of fire appeared around Baelfire. He didn't flinch; he only stared at her. The dark silver in his eyes held an intensity that words couldn't match, but Emrys didn't drop her gaze.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, Baelfire said, "I see. Small matters such as this mean very little to me, if anything. That is clearly not the case for you. My apologies."

She put out the fire and lowered her hand, but not her eyes. "I don't appreciate your insouciant attitude toward these things. There was nothing small about this matter. My brother's life isn't insignificant."

Baelfire chuckled. "All mortal lives are, Emrys. Even yours. Some, such as yourself, have the potential to achieve some form of greatness in their short time here, but you've nothing more to hope for once you've fulfilled your destiny."

"How encouraging," she said drily.

He shrugged and held his left hand out to her. When she didn't move, he simply said, "Emrys."

She didn't question him, but she hesitated momentarily before placing her right hand in his. Shivers of pleasure slid down her spine as Baelfire traced the inside of her hand—she tried her best to ignore them and hold his gaze, but looking into his eyes only succeeded in making it harder to ignore her feelings.

"What are you doing," she asked, in an attempt to distract herself.

"You're never the same, are you," he murmured absentmindedly. As close as he was to her, Emrys suddenly got the feeling that Baelfire was not with her in that moment. "You mortals are always changing—no consistency, even amongst lifetimes."

"I haven't the slightest idea what you would mean by that. And you've left me enough riddles to figure out, so I'd appreciate it if you'd be more direct in what you tell me."

"You're speaking of the Prophecy, aren't you, Emrys?"

"You promised next time you would tell me about my lifetimes with Arthur."

Baelfire said nothing. Then, suddenly he pulled her close to him and placed a hand behind her neck. She thought she'd felt shivers before! She realized how dry her lips were and felt compelled to moisten them.

"Don't move," he ordered as he leaned his forehead against hers. He probably thought this was an incredibly simple task, but Emrys found difficulty in being so close to him. This was the second time in as many days that she'd been held so intimately, although Emrys was pretty sure she'd read too much into her situation with Arthur.

Now, more than ever, she longed for Cedric, her oldest friend, whom she'd left behind in Carmarthen—rather, she longed for another shared moment of intimacy. When Reuben'd left, Cedric had been there. Cedric had always been there, even before Reuben had left. And Emrys'd wanted to be there for him, too—more than physically. She just couldn't seem to do it, not even after they'd been together.