Issue # 9- A Shattered Clasp

A Shattered Clasp

*~~~~*

Arapos remains beside Mikel`s fire, white eyes closed tightly she cradles a violet glass orb no larger than a goose egg.

“Bitchling she lizard!” the seer spits as she raises her ‘eye’ before her then places it to rest on the many wrinkles on her brow, attempting one last time to see through the blocking circle Vestra and her ‘consorts’ stood within. Her face drawn tightly with concentration she still can only visualize Mikel outside, all within the perimeter appear invisible to her.

Lowering the orb to rest on her lap she sighs with exasperation as a chilling draft sweeps into his bed chamber. Heavy footfalls echo through the massive keep as he climbs the main staircase. She slips the now flickering oracles eye back into the left pocket of her purple robe and pretends to doze.

“You may as well lift your head,” Mikel announces as he enters his bedchamber.”She knew you would spy just as I did.”

Arapos lifts her chin from her chest to follow the male’s movements.”What did she want?” she asks turning her gray head when he walks to his closet.

“She had a missive she wished me to deliver,” Rayvenwing answers tugging a fresh overcoat from a padded hanger.

“Missive? Hasn`t the foul breathed bitch ever heard of a phone?”

“You`re aware of their distaste for such things,” he replies walking to his bureau to lift a thin strip of black leather from amid the silver platter of personal items.

“They think thier shit doesn`t reek either but it does.” Arapos cranes her head about to locate him silently tying back his mass of hair.”Why would she think to use you, a Guardian, as a mailman? Her tongue licks well enough to moisten a stamp. Right Rayvenwing?”

“You are unnaturally curious about carnal matters oracle,” Mikel points out moving with care over to his bed.”Mine in particular,” he adds bending over Ephra to cover her with his silver and black comforter. A dark male brow quirks at the old woman`s lusty cackle. Gently he drops the edge of the duvet to run a rough finger along a bottom lip moist and full.

“Don`t do it Mikel.”

The Guardian straightens, draws a breath, then turns to stare at his advisor.”Don`t do what?”

“Grow attached,” the old woman cautions.” I`ve seen your future Guardian and it doesn`t lie between those silken thighs. Love led you to this timeless debt; do not forget your obligations to those you owe.”

“As if I could,” the man murmurs.”Do not harangue Ephra when she awakens. I`ll seal the weakened gate on my way out of town.”

Her face now peers over the rear of his chair.”Out of town? Your duty…”

“I know what my duties are old woman!”

He drops into the frosty Rover letting his forehead rest on the wheel momentarily, trying to combat the memory of sapphire eyes and a pouting lower lip. The drive to Erick`s would be cold. So damned cold.