Free Path of the Magi (Tales of Tiberius) by Richard J Stuart Page A

saw a dark horse and a cloaked rider.  Tiberius could make out no feature from under the hood and a moment of fear welled within him.  Elves could be dangerous, he knew.  Yet even the worst of them were loathe to break their word, and Gillyian had given his that he would come to no harm. 
    “This is the boy?” said a soft whisper from under the hood.  Tiberius thought the voice sounded female, but he couldn’t be sure.  Well, Gillyian said as much.  It was a pleasant voice at any rate.
    “It’s the one I watch,” Gillyian answered.  “Whether it is the one you seek, or no, I know not.”
    She dismounted in answer and stepped towards Tiberius, her face still hidden by her cloak.  She stopped, studying him from beneath her cloak for a moment.  Then she turned and said something in her own tongue to Gillyian.
    “Abba vaster paidir,” it sounded like to Tiberius, though he couldn’t be sure.  Gillyian shrugged his shoulders in response. 
    Tiberius felt rather stupid standing there with some strange hooded elf gawking at him.  “You wanted to see me, Lady?” he asked at length. 
    In answer she drew back the hood from her face.  Tiberius gasped, as she was incredibly beautiful.  She had a face that he’d only seen in matched in statues and paintings.  She had long dark hair and emerald eyes that sparkled.  He thought for sure she was some sort of princess, certainly she had the jewelry for one.  Some sort of gold headpiece was in her hair. 
    “I had to see you,” she said.  “I saw one of the others and since then my heart has had no peace.  That so much should depend on such as him … but you are of another race.”
    “I’ve told your friend here that I’m no wizard,” Tiberius protested.
    “La!  You are but a boy.  But you are with Dallen; I’m content with that,”  the lady said.
    “He’s teaching me math,” Tiberius answered.
    “The language of God, yes.  May I see your hand?” she asked, stepping closer and holding out her own palm.   This close to her she smelled of wildflowers and jasmine.  She was disturbingly desirable in a way he couldn’t quantify or explain.  It wasn’t a welcome feeling.  He had a girlfriend and he didn’t trust any elves.  Likely as not this was the effect of some glamour spell. 
    Despite his misgivings, Tiberius held out his right hand, but she took his left instead.  Tiberius had had his palm read once before at the county fair, but Salina’s method was somewhat different.  The old crone at the fair had made much of every line of his palm.  Salina glanced at the lines, but turned the hand over, examining the back of his hand as well as the lines of his palm and fingers.  She seemed to care more for the feel of his hand than the lines.  Her skin felt much warmer than the old crone's hands too.  At last she put her other hand on top of his and seemed to breathe a deep sigh of relief. 
    “Are you alright, Ma’am?”  Tiberius asked, wondering at her reaction.
    She looked up at him and smiled.  “You are a friend and must call me Salina,” she said.
    Tiberius nodded.  Then without warning, Salina stepped up and kissed him on the lips.  She was a better kisser than Marybeth, too, though Tiberius was too surprised to enjoy it properly.  Too surprised to answer her even, but Salina could read the shock in his face when she’d finished. 
    Gillyian said something sharply in Alfaran that Ti didn't catch, but he didn't sound happy.  Salina started to snap back at him in Alfaran, but then switched to English.
    “I looked in his eyes and saw the man,” she said to Gillyian.  “Besides, he's of age.”  Turning back to Tiberius she saw he was looking at her like she had lost her mind.   
    “La! He thinks I mean to bewitch him.”  She turned back to face him, “Don’t you find me attractive?”
    “I’ve got a girl, ma’am,”  Tiberius stammered.
    “What?  So soon?” Salina said, her eyes flashing in surprise.