Spark of Chaos (Spark of Chaos #1)

Prologue (Part 4)

Oenghus took a deep breath. He was trying to keep his temper in check, but Isiilde's life was in danger. They needed the Isle's protection.

Marsais held up a calming hand. "Oen, you look on the verge of flying into a berserker's rage. Just start at the beginning. Wherever that might be."

Oenghus started with the night of the fire. And Marsais began pacing, continuing throughout the narrative, then pausing when Oenghus explained how he'd smuggled Isiilde onto the island. Long minutes passed in silence.

"I can't grant her sanctuary," Marsais finally said. "The nymphling is Emperor Jaal's daughter. He is her rightful owner. You know as well as I that the Isle doesn't link itself with the kingdoms."

"I'm not asking for the Isle to sign a treaty with Kambe. I'm only asking for refuge," Oenghus said.

"You know the Nine won't see it like that."

"What about all the nobles training here? How is that any different?"

"Hmm, they aren't nymphs," Marsais pointed out. "Nobles rarely bring the Blessed Order's attention upon us, and a nymph would do just that. Our relations with the Order are strained at the best of times."

"How can you turn her away? The bastard was going to throw her in a dungeon. Look at her," he hissed, pointing at the tiny faerie who was currently studying them with large almond-shaped eyes that shone bright and fresh as spring. "Only a cold-hearted bastard would leave such an adorable thing out in the cold."

"You're forgetting that an adorable nymphling will mature into an intoxicating nymph in a few scant years," Marsais said, his voice hard and sharp as steel. "Nymphs don't mature at the same rate as humans. What will happen when she Awakens? Allow me to refresh your memory, since you seem to have forgotten that minor detail. Her blood will begin to stir and every man on this Isle will be drooling after her—including you and me.

"Blast it! We could very well be at each other's throats over this adorable creature. I can't believe you were foolish enough to involve yourself in this affair. You know as well as I that a nymph belongs with her kin, with her father, until she's of age. A nymph's family is immune to the creature's allure. You should never have taken her from Soataen—no matter what he planned!" Marsais said sharply, grey eyes turning to flint, challenging Oenghus to argue the obvious.

He turned his back on Marsais, tugging roughly on his beard. The words rang true, and that was the rub of it—a nymphling should stay with her kin until she's of age.

"Isiilde looks exactly like her mother," Oenghus whispered. "You know how Soataen always had a thing for redheads."

Marsais stared blankly at his back, then blinked as realization dawned. "Oh, by the gods, you bloody fool."

Oenghus turned to find Marsais massaging the bridge of his nose. "What in all the realms were you thinking when you bedded a nymph who belonged to the Emperor of Kambe, much less get her with child?"

"Not much thought was involved, trust me," Oenghus admitted. "I'd like to see how you would've fared, waking up with a nymph standing next to your bed. I'd wager not too well, 'specially considering your incident in Mearcentia. So don't get all high and mighty with me, you bloody bastard."

Marsais held up his hands in peace. "Point taken. Forgive me, it's just a bit of a shock, which is saying a lot for a seer." He turned to study Isiilde, who seemed entranced by the crystal window. "Does she know you're her real father?"

Oenghus jerked his head to the side.

"Let us assume for one moment that I can persuade the Nine to let her stay. Without revealing her... connection to you. What happens when she comes of age, Oenghus? What happens when her 'father' sells her?"

"I've thought a lot about it," Oenghus began, slowly. "We could make a run for it; I could keep her hidden for a time. But even I'm not fool enough to think I can protect her forever. Not alone. As much as I hate to admit it, a nymph with royal blood will have a better chance of being sold to someone who can protect her. And maybe care for her. If the lords of Mearcentia or even Kiln made a bid for her, then I think at least she'd be comfortable. It's probably her best chance."

The words left a foul taste in his mouth. But he had a promise to honor. He was bound by his word.

"That's wise of you. But will you be able to let her go, old friend?" Marsais asked, gently.

"I'm not the bloody seer."

"Well then, I'll grant your request. But..." Marsais held up a finger. "She'll not live within these walls."

Oenghus glowered. "She's not gonna bloody burn the stronghold down."

"Not for that." Marsais glanced at the nymphling. "Faerie don't tolerate stone well. I have a cottage by the seaside you can live in."

"Oh. Erm..." Oenghus tugged on his beard.

Marsais arched a brow, waiting.

"I don't suppose they've started growing strawberries on the island?"

"Strawberries?"

"You know, little red berr—"

"I know what they are. Why?"

"She's fond of them."

Marsais started to shake his head, but glanced at the faerie and found himself saying, "She'll have all the strawberries she can eat."