Copper Veins (21 page)

“How can she lead the resistance from the Otherworld?” I asked, leaving off the fact that, once Sadie had her library up and running, she'd probably never leave it again.

“That's something else I've been meaning to discuss,” Dad said. “All of us need to relocate back to the Mundane world, the sooner the better.”

The only sound was of Sadie's fork clattering against the floor.

“Um…what?” I asked.

“The Otherworld is no place for the Corbeaus,” Dad continued. “We are a family of magic, but we don't belong here. Once we're back in the Raven Compound—”

“Which has been seized by the government!” Sadie squeaked.

“—we can truly effect change for the lives of Elementals,” Dad finished. He looked around the table, his gaze coming to rest on Max. “Maximilien. Are you with me, son?”

“You know it,” Max replied. He didn't even take a second to think about it.

“Dad.” He turned to face me. “First of all, I live here, at the manor, in the Otherworld with Micah.” Dad scowled, but I kept going. “Second, we're fugitives. Is it really a good idea to hang out near all the people who want us dead?”

“The resistance can protect us!” he insisted.

“Like they did the other day?” I demanded. “Great jailbreak, by the way. Even Max's plans work out better than that did.”

“Hey,” Max said, while Dad continued, “Sadie needs to be seen often, and—”

“Stop!” Sadie shoved back her chair so fast it fell over. “Just stop! Everyone!” For a moment she just stood there, glaring, while her arms and hands shook.

“Everyone talks about making me a queen, a resistance leader, where I should live…but you know what? No one has bothered to ask me anything! I
do
get a say in my own life!” She glared at us for what felt like an hour, her hands clenching and unclenching. Then she spun on her heel and left.

“She'll be all right,” Dad said. “She just needs to realize how much the Mundane world needs her.” Dad paused to sip his water, then continued, “The Mundane world needs all of us.”

“Sara is my wife and your daughter,” Micah said. It was the first time he'd spoken during this little slice of family drama. “And she can choose for herself where she would like to live.” I didn't think I could love him any more than I already did until that moment.

But, of course, that wasn't the end of it. “Sara belongs with her family,” Dad growled.

“I
am
her family,” Micah seethed. “And she doesn't ‘belong' to anyone.”

“You hardly know her,” Dad retorted. “I was there when she was born!”

“
Hey!
” I said, getting to my feet. “Dad, don't you try to rearrange my life, like you're trying to rearrange Sadie's!” I glared at my father—I would live wherever I wanted to live, no matter what anyone at that table had to say about it.

“Beau, you are tearing this family in half,” Mom said. “The man I married would have done anything to keep us together.”

Dad sighed. “The man you married has been gone for a long time.”

And the cracks in my heart deepened. It was all too much, way too much, especially when you heaped it on top of the worst week I'd had in a long time. Micah reached for my hand, but what Dad had said about him hardly knowing me rang in my ears. Hell, I didn't even know how we had really met.

“Too much,” I mumbled, then I left the room without another word.

I walked straight out of the dining room, through the parlor, and out the front door, not stopping until I was in the center of the meadow that sloped toward the village. The space was dominated by a large oak, one that reminded me of the fairy tree that stood behind the Raven Compound. I used to go to that tree to think, too.

My mind was spinning, careening in a hundred different directions all at once. I seriously considered digging a hole and crawling inside, hiding until aeverything wrong had itself. Instead, I leaned against the tree and tried to absorb some of its strength. I hadn't been there long before Micah found me.

“Sara, what is it?” he asked.

“You want me to pick one thing?” I countered,
throwing my hands up in the air. “Well, let's see… I was held captive by Peacekeepers, beat up and pumped with all sorts of drugs, Dad wants Sadie to be some kind of a warlord, I think my parents might be breaking up—”

“No,” he cut in. “There is something deeper. Something with us.”

I bit my lip, wondering how he even knew. But then, Micah had always seemed to have a better handle on what was going on in my head than I did. “Did you do this to me?” I asked, holding up my wrist with the silver mark.

“No more than you did this to me,” Micah countered, displaying the copper that swirled around his own wrist. “Why are these marks upsetting you?”

“Dad made it seem like you forced the silver into me,” I mumbled. “Can Elementals even do that?”

Micah frowned, his brows nearly touching. “First of all, I have never once heard tell of an Elemental accepting a mark from another, metal or otherwise,” he said quietly. “If I had not seen our marks with my own eyes, I would doubt it still.” Micah cupped my face and drew me close to him. “Second, implying that I forced anything onto you is, frankly, repugnant.”

I cringed when he said forced, since it was at the heart of my other big issue. “I…I can't remember how we met,” I whispered. “I mean, I know it was during that dream in my car, but I only remember the end. I can't remember our first kiss, or how you even
got into my car. I've tried, believe me I've tried, but everything's blank.” Micah's frown deepened, whether because I was a horrible person for not remembering such a momentous occasion or because he couldn't imagine how one kiss could possibly matter so much, I couldn't tell. “I didn't know I was a Dreamwalker then, and once I realized what was going on, we were pretty far along. I…” I sighed and plowed on, “I just wish I knew how the dream had started.”

I walked away from him, raking my hands through my hair. “I know. It shouldn't matter. It was just one kiss.”

“It matters.”

I turned and saw Micah's slumped shoulders, his dejected face. “It's not your fault,” I said in a rush. “It's mine, for not remembering. I'm sorry.”

Micah watched me for a moment, his face guarded, then he stepped forward, so close I could feel his breath. Close enough to kiss. “I'd watched you before that day,” Micah began, his soft voice sending chills down my spine. “I'd watched you many times, sunning yourself in your mechanical. But that day, the day we met, you were so beautiful, lying there in the sun…I hoped you wanted me, but I wasn't sure.”

“You're never unsure,” I whispered.

“On occasion, I am.” With a single long finger Micah stroked my jawline. “Despite my uncertainties, I had to kiss you. I
needed
to kiss you.” He pressed his lips to mine, softly, sweetly. “But once was not
enough.” He kissed me again, lingering a bit. “Then, the most extraordinary thing happened.”

“W—what was that?” I stammered, my knees having gone wobbly from all this unexpected romance.

“You kissed me back.” He was right, I'd done just that, and I did it again, sliding my arms around his neck. Micah's arms glided over my shoulders and down my back, stroking my mark, pressing me against him. And you know what? It didn't matter that I couldn't exactly remember our first kiss. Micah had given me a new memory, one just as precious.

“Our first kiss was nice,” I said, once we came up for air.

“Nice?” Micah repeated, his brows halfway up his forehead. “I'll show you nice!”

“Will you?” I tried to slip out of his grasp and restart our game of chase, but Micah's arms wouldn't budge. Still, I struggled, and we ended up on the ground, laughing and wrestling and kissing. After we'd done that for a while, we sat against the oak tree, watching the clouds drift by.

“All of our days should be like this,” Micah murmured. “When I couldn't find you…”

“I know. All I thought about was getting home to you. I just wanted you to find me.”

He hugged me a bit closer. “Instead, you found your way to me.”

“That I did.” I shifted, resting my cheek on Micah's
shoulder. For a silver elf, he was pretty comfortable.

“You know, it was kind of nice being in the Mundane world for so long. Well, except for the whole government-prisoner part,” I added. I leaned across Micah's chest and traced little circles on the back of his hand. “I don't think I'd realized how much I missed my old life.”

“Would you prefer to spend your life there?” Micah whispered.

“You'd come with me?” I looked up in time to catch the emotions skating across Micah's face, despair and resignation giving way to relief. Then I realized that what he'd really asked me was if I'd wanted to live in the Mundane world without him.

Never, not in a million years.

“Hey,” I murmured, wrapping my arms around his neck. “I'm the insecure one, remember?” I rubbed my cheek against his neck. “You're the strong, silent type.”

He kissed my hair. “Thank you for reminding me.” Micah tugged my arm into his lap and pushed up my sleeve, then placed his wrist next to mine. The copper mark that swirled around his arm matched the silver mark on mine, curve for curve. “It still awes me that you did such a thing,” he murmured.

“I couldn't leave you,” I said, tracing the copper on his wrist. “You wouldn't have left me.”

He pulled me against him then, holding me so tightly I could hardly breathe. It struck me then—I'd
been right, in a way, while I was mulling over Micah in front of that campfire. My unexpected stint in the Mundane realm had really made Micah think I was unsatisfied with him? Looking back, it made sense. I mean, once Dad returned, he'd started trying to get me to consider dating the only Mundane man that had ever hit on me in front of Micah, and right after that I disappeared for days on end. Not that anything would ever happen between me and Jerome, but that wasn't the point. The point was that Micah's new wife seemed like she was slipping away not only from him, but from his world, too.

And now, Dad had dropped the bomb that he wanted all of us to move back to the Mundane realm.

“You know I'm not going anywhere, right?” I shifted so I could see Micah's eyes. He'd let his hair fall over his brow, so I pushed the superfine strands off his forehead. “I belong with you.”

Micah smiled. “You're right. You do.” He stood, and pulled me up alongside him. “Come, wife. Let me take you inside.”

“Whatever for?” I asked, batting my eyelashes. Micah murmured something rather ungentlemanly in my ear—I didn't even think he knew those sorts of words. Not that I had any problem with putting those words into action, not in the slightest.

Laughing, we walked through the manor's front door and right into the middle of a truly epic screaming match between Mom, Dad, and Sadie.

“We need to start using the kitchen entrance,” I muttered. Micah squeezed my hand, and then, like a brave knight of old, stepped into the thick of the battle.

“Please,” he said, putting himself between Sadie and Dad. “Shouting rarely accomplishes anything.”

“He won't listen!” Sadie shrieked. “I am not anyone's leader! Of anything! Ever!”

“Sadie!” Dad bellowed. “You are a Corbeau! We do not avoid our duties!”

“This is not my duty,” Sadie retorted.

“She's my daughter, too,” Mom seethed. “How would you like it if I took her to the
brugh
and installed her as my scribe?”

“Please!” Micah shouted. “Perhaps we should take a moment to think before things are said that we all regret.”

“Perhaps you should stay out of our family discussions,” Dad said.

I'd had enough. “What is wrong with you?” I demanded, shoving myself in front of Micah and glaring up at my father. “Micah
is
our family!”

“He's not a Corbeau,” Dad sneered.

“Yeah, well, neither am I.” I glanced toward Micah—his lips were pressed into a bloodless line, and his eyes were practically red with fury. “Go for a walk.”

He blinked. “Whatever for?”

“Because the last time you looked that angry, you
wadded up iron warriors like tinfoil and threw them at Ferra's castle.” Micah nodded, because wives are smart and you should listen to them, and then he walked outside without another word. Once he was gone, I said to Dad, “Why do you hate my husband?”

At least he had the decency to look offended. “I do not hate Micah.”

“But, you don't like that I'm married to him.” I crossed my arms over my chest and moved closer to Mom, channeling her bad-assedness. “Is it because he's an elf?”

“No!” Dad rubbed his forehead and continued, “No. Not at all. I just…” He wandered toward a window, content to stare at the landscape while Mom, Sadie, and I glared daggers into his back. It was then that I noticed Max was conspicuously absent. It wasn't like him to miss out on a shouting match. Then again, Max had never disagreed with a single thing Dad had said, no matter how outrageous.

“My entire life, I've had a vision of what our family would be like,” Dad said at last. “My wife and children would stand by my side, and we would end the Peacekeepers' reign of tyranny once and for all. In my vision, we would do good things.”

“We will always support you,” I said softly, “but you need to support us, too.” Dad nodded, but he didn't say anything. “What is it about Jerome? Why did you send him after me?”

Dad opened his mouth, then shut it. After a few
moments' thought, he replied, “Firstly, he's a good man. Secondly, we could exploit his Peacekeeper connections to learn vital information. Thirdly, joining the families of the current Metal Inheritor and the prior Air Inheritor would be a smart political move.”