The Misadventures of Annika Brisby (16 page)

“This is one of the first things that Yuri and I painted in the house,” he said. “We used to do everything together, but time changes all things.” He shook his head in disapproval and continued describing the work that went into the rest of the room. It was incredible to think it was built without bulldozers and power tools; just the willing hands of its inhabitants.

They walked through the arched hallway and turned to the right, strolling down another hall with a series of four identical double doors. He opened the one closest to them and they were greeted with light from a row of arched windows that led out to the courtyard. Looking around, Annika saw a vast ballroom, with high ceilings and smaller chandeliers similar to the enormous one in the entrance, but less elaborate. The wide arched ceiling was painted with fairies, butterflies, bumblebees and dragonflies hovering in a bright blue sky dotted with fluffy silver lined clouds. The floor was arranged in simple geometric patterns made of the palest pink and white marble. Round framed mirrors hung high up to reflect the chandeliers, and Annika could only imagine what the room looked like when it was lit up at night, with the windows overlooking the courtyard. At that moment she was willing to dig potatoes all day and maybe even give up running water to live in a place like this.

Sensing her awe, Talvi clasped her hand and spun her around. He guided her in a semicircle and dipping her down until her hair touched the floor. It caught her off guard, but she yielded to his movement easily.

“I didn’t think you would be so graceful,” he said, pulling her back up to him with strong arms. “You have to promise me a dance on my birthday.”

“Well, since you said please,” she laughed, and a flush crept over his face.

“Please?” he asked with a sheepish smile. She nodded and walked away from him, staring up at the paintings on the ceiling and the thousands of tiny rainbows bouncing off the walls from the cut crystal chandeliers. There was magic in this place; she could feel it pouring out of everything around her.

“Come along, there’s much more to see,” he ushered her kindly. They stepped into a round room with ten tall, narrow windows forming a crescent, all arching to a soft point in the center. There were two chaise lounges, both covered in soft chocolate brown velvet. Each had a soft knit afghan made of yarn dyed in brilliant hues lying upon it. Between the lounges stood a very tall ficus tree, whose branches draped lazily over the furniture. In front of the lounges was a short round table with a pile of books upon it. At the center of the room on the stone floor sat a small wood burning stove.

“I guess you would call this the conservatory, but I call it the reading room. The libraries are just down the hall, but the light in here is incredible, as you can see,” he told her, pointing at the lovely ironwork of the windows.

“No wonder you call it the reading room. I can imagine sitting here all day long in the winter, watching the snow fall,” she said dreamily. She walked over and lay down on one of the lounges and looked out the windows to see the stable and the pastures full of trees. Their autumn colors popped against the backdrop of a bright blue sky. The ficus branches overhead gave her the impression that she was outside, lying in the forest with all the comforts of home. Wrought iron sconces shaped like curling grapevines were affixed to the wall between every other window. Underneath the windows were long narrow tables that held dozens of potted plants, filling the room with clean sweet smelling air. She could have spent the rest of the day right there in that spot, but something caught her eye that made her sit up in curiosity. On the portion of the wall that was not taken up by windows hung a beautiful painting. There was something very familiar about it, and very odd.

She stood up, studying the bright painting closely. A woman dressed like an Egyptian goddess was looking down and to the side at a glittering green serpent she held around her arms. A multitude of colors made up her intricate patchwork gown and she wore a jeweled ring on every finger. A young man in black, silver and green stood beside her, whispering something tender in her ear. The woman’s eyes were outlined with dark kohl, her features strikingly familiar. They both had black hair. The boy…his hair…it was wild, sensual, soft and catching the wind. The longer Annika gazed at the painting, the more she thought it looked like Yuri, with her twin brother telling her a secret. It
was
the twins, she realized.

“This is amazing!” she remarked, squinting at the brush strokes in front of her nose. “That looks like it was painted by Gustav Klimt.”

“I’m surprised you know his work.”

“Of course I know it,” she breathed. “I think my uncle’s taken me to every art museum in Paris. This isn’t like the ones I’ve seen at the Musée d’Orsay. Is it real?”

“Well it’s not imaginary,” Talvi said with a little grin, which faded to a little frown. “He was a very strange man…lots of cats. Yes, far too many cats. His house smelled like piss.”

“You say that like you’ve got firsthand experience.”

“Firsthand and secondhand, unfortunately. We had to air out our clothes for a week, but he captured our likeness quite well, don’t you think?”

“You and your sister sat for Gustav Klimt?”

“Lots of people sat for him,” Talvi said with a shrug. Annika looked at him in disbelief, then at the painting, and then back at him. She kept waiting for him to crack a joke or smile or laugh, but he simply headed towards the door. They walked down a different hall where an enormous grandfather clock stood looming over them. The woodgrain of the cedar shimmered as her eyes wandered over the intricate carvings of tree branches and two horned owls that stared straight ahead like silent watchmen. An image of the full sun leaned slightly to the right on the clock face, telling her that it was well past noon.

“We best hurry; when this thing strikes you might jump out of your skin. It always scared me when I was younger,” he said, winking at her. They walked to the end of the hall and turned left. She recognized the doorway to the dining room and saw the row of doors, which they strolled past, along with the entrance to the music room, and finally stopped at the next door.

“I’ll show you those other two rooms you didn’t believe me about. Watch your step,” Talvi cautioned as they entered the dark room. “Most of these things are put away, but the larvae are always playing with something.”

“Larvae? Do you mean Stella and Sloan?”

“Yes. The smaller they are, the more they squirm like insect larvae,” he said as he walked to the nearest window and drew back the curtains, causing a bright light to illuminate the room.

“Wow!” she sighed, taking it all in. They were surrounded by shelves of sheet music and countless different horns and woodwinds. Most of the room was uncluttered and there were a few red velvet chairs and a sofa situated around a baby grand piano in the center of the room. The floors were covered with exotic carpets and the walls were adorned with numerous instruments. Some she recognized, and many she did not. Thankfully Talvi pointed them all out to her.

“A dulcimer, three different harps, a sitar, guitar, mandolin, violin, viola, cello, a harpsichord and a virginal.” He seated himself at the harpsichord, playing a few somber notes as she watched over his shoulder. Annika recognized the music and couldn’t help being moved by the passion with which he played. The way his body moved made it seem as though he felt every single note pass through his soul.

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard Moonlight Sonata on a harpsichord,” she said, looking at Talvi in a completely different way.

“When I heard him play this I simply had to learn it,” he replied, fingering the keys faultlessly.

“When you heard
who
play it?”

“Beethoven, who else?”

“You saw Beethoven play?” she asked skeptically.

“Mmm hmm,” he nodded as he continued to play. “Vienna, 1801. My entire family went to see him perform. It was incredible. He had a gift for evoking an extraordinary range of emotion.” He finished the segment that was most familiar to her and pulled the protective cover over the keys. Then he turned around on the bench to face his audience of one, leaning back on his elbows.

“Talvi, exactly how old are you that you saw him play, and that you and your sister sat for Gustav Klimt?”

“Two hundred and ninety nine,” he replied without a trace of deception. She kept waiting for him to burst out laughing, but he never did.

“Like,
years
?”

“I told you I’m a dreadful liar.” He looked into her soul with those hypnotic eyes and Annika felt the magnetic pull between them again. His eyes seemed to smile, but his mouth remained motionless. The only thing that moved was one of his hands as he turned up a palm and beckoned her to come to him.

“You’re nothing but trouble, do you know that?” she accused. He nodded in agreement, and motioned again, this time with an inviting smile. Against her better judgment she took another step closer until his hands rested firmly around her waist. They felt as though they belonged there. He slowly coaxed her down to sit on his thigh and she couldn’t help sinking her fingers into his messy hair to relive the scent of cinnamon and dried leaves that clung to him. He pressed his forehead gently against hers, looking into her eyes.

“I wonder what you brought me for my birthday present?” he murmured. “You know, I wouldn’t mind opening your gift a bit early.”

“What makes you so sure I’m giving you anything?”

“Look where you’re sitting? All I’ve left to do is unwrap you,” he said as he gave her a lecherous look and bounced his thigh ever so slightly. “And play with you, of course.”

“I think your problem is that you just expect to get what you want,” she said, even as she was breaking out in goose bumps.

“I’ve never thought of that as a problem.”

“I’ll bet you have a really hard time dealing with rejection, don’t you?”

“I regret to inform you, my dear,” he closed his eyes and opened them very slowly, “but I do not know the meaning of that word.”

Annika took a deep breath swallowed hard before looking at him. She’d dealt with egotistical musicians hitting on her, using their best lines to try to coax her into going home with them after a show. She could disregard almost anything they promised her, and sometimes she just laughed at them, but not this time. This one was different. This one was actually getting to her.

She considered the situation she was in. He’d advised her to find something pleasurable to pass the time and this definitely fit the bill. For one thing, she knew she could keep it casual; they both knew she wasn’t staying, and by the time he grew bored with her she’d be gone. It might be fun to have a harmless fling with an elven guy from another world. His offer was more than tempting. She let her fingers trace the outside of his pointed ears, making his eyes close and his head tilt to one side as a small sigh escaped his parted lips. Her mind was racing, scrambling to think of an excuse not to give in, as he reached underneath her shirt and let his fingernails lightly scrape against her waist. He leaned down to speak into her ear, even though there was no need to whisper.

“Are you certain you don’t want me to open your gift early?” he purred into her ear. “Do you honestly think you can wait until my birthday?” His wanton tone and warm lips and the things they suggested were the most erotic sensations upon her ears. Thankfully she was sitting and not standing, because her knees were shaking slightly as she pressed them together. He adjusted his belt and looked at her intently, waiting for her response.

“I don’t think I can. You win,” she whispered back, trembling with anticipation. Talvi smiled to himself before he pried her knees apart.

“I think we
both
win.” He wrapped her legs around his waist and ran his hands down her back, causing it to arch slightly against his body. Every passing second felt like an eternity until their lips met, and when his tongue slipped into her mouth she felt the rush come along with the visions of his kiss. She was greeted with images of countless sunsets, hands playing piano keys, fingers strumming a guitar, Ghassan rearing with his long black tail blowing wildly in the wind and trees speeding by. Overwhelmed by the experience, Annika pulled away from him.

“Why do I keep seeing this stuff? How come every time I kiss you, I see things like the forest zooming by?” He raised his eyebrows in interest.

“You can see that? What else do you see?” She told him about all the things she’d experienced when their bodies touched. “Why does that keep happening?”

“Well, you’re describing experiences which I find pleasing, so I imagine a kiss from you is a divine trigger of sorts.” He leaned close to kiss her again, but she backed away.

“Then what did you see the other day in the woods?” she pressed. “You never told me what you saw the first time you kissed me.”

“I don’t recall,” he said, scratching his head a little.

“I don’t believe you for a—”

His mouth prevented hers from finishing her sentence, and the next thing she knew she was sinking backwards and onto the floor in his arms. He used his knees to spread her legs further apart before nestling his narrow hips between them, then began a slow grind against her while his mouth traveled hungrily along her neck. Those wild, untrimmed sideburns made her laugh when they brushed against her ear, and they made her moan when he pushed up her shirt and took each breast into his mouth. They fumbled at each other’s clothing and Talvi already had her sweater on the floor before she’d managed to unfasten a single button of his shirt. He covered her ribcage in soft kisses and tugged at her pants until he’d exposed her hips. When he untied the drawstring of her pants and slipped his hand under the waistband, he stopped kissing her long enough to ask, “Is this alright? You know I can’t make you do anything you don’t want to do.”