Chapter Three
“Fenna. Those men are wearing clothes. I need pants or I’m not going one step further.”
Kansas was pissed. He’d half expected to wake up in his bed this morning, but he returned to consciousness, still trapped in the land of the crazy animal people.
Lenard said he really needed to stop calling it that or someone might be offended. But when they told him what they actually called their world, he refused to believe it, and it had him doubting his sanity once more.
“Why are you so obsessed with these pants? All your pale bits are covered. Lenard even made shoes.” Fenna rolled her eyes and gripped his hand tighter in her own spindly, long-fingered grasp, dragging him determinedly past the outer doors of the palace. ?
??Trust me, Kansas, no one will care what you’re wearing. The less the better, in my opinion.”
“She makes a good point,” Lenard said, unhelpfully.
“You’re taking me to meet a king. In a castle. Filled with people wearing pants. I see your people, the Gliders? They’re wearing pants. I see people who look like Lenard wearing pants. I don’t think I’m being unreasonable here.”
He stopped again, jerking the smaller Fenna to a halt. “Come to think of it, why aren’t you two wearing any clothes? No wait, don’t tell me. It’s all starting to make sense.” He ran a hand over his eyes. “It wasn’t enough to get dropped by a sadistic weather anomaly into a strange new world where every living thing and a pool of water is ready to get it on at the first opportunity, I had to land smack dab in the path of a strange nudist cult. That’s why you won’t give me pants, right? It’s against your religious beliefs?”
“Are all humans this irritating?” Fenna didn’t seem to expect an answer. Nodding to Lenard, she tugged Kansas while he pushed from behind, propelling him forward once more. “Clothing is optional in this world, sea eyes. An afterthought. The Crow Warriors who live here are just more modest than the other clans. Always have been, though we have no idea why. It’s out of respect for them and the king, who is also a Crow, that most of the visitors to the palace follow suit. A shame if you ask me. Pants are far too confining.”
The Crow Warriors were the only people he could see that looked human. Or, mostly human. Their skin was golden. Not the kind of golden that came from spending years in the sun, but a true, rich unmistakable gold. Kansas had a hard time believing it was their natural hue. Maybe they painted themselves or applied gold leafing for ritual purposes. Either way, the effect was stunning. They gleamed.
Gold skin, hair as black as night and eyes that varied in shades from whiskey to amber. If they all looked like this, it was no wonder that Lenard thought he was an unusual specimen.
Lenard wasn’t the only one. Everyone who saw him looked at Kansas with intense curiosity—some with a level of shocked surprise and fascination that made him decidedly nervous.
“If I get arrested for public indecency, I’m so taking you two with me. That goes double if anything gets cut off.” Like his head.
“Why would we arrest such an honored guest? Welcome, Kansas Frayne. I’ve been expecting you.”
Fenna froze, leaving Kansas to bump into her back as momentum pulled him forward. The towering Lenard fell to his knees, thighs spread and trembling with his ever-present arousal thrusting toward the dark haired man.
Kansas shook his head in resignation at the Felix. Did everything arouse him? Apparently. It took him a moment to register the stranger’s words, but then he stilled in surprise. “How do you know my name?”
Fenna punched his thigh as she too fell to her knees beside him. Her loud whisper echoed through the marbled hall. “Show some respect, sea eyes. The wizard is powerful and wise. And he has the ear of the king.”
The wizard? Kansas rubbed his pained leg, glaring at Fenna. “I’m not a natural kneeler.”
“That is good to know.”
He looked up to study the silently smiling man before them. There was no reason he should look familiar, but he did. Like the hazy memory of another dream. But if Kansas had ever seen him before he doubted he would have forgotten it. Those features were too distinctive. That gaze too potently sexual.
He didn’t look anything like what Kansas would have expected a court magician to look like. No bushy white beard, pointy hat or flowing robes. The wizard’s long black braid fell over one shoulder, dark facial hair thick along his jawline. His open white shirt revealed a lean golden chest, making him look more like a pirate than a sorcerer.
He’d been expecting him?
“The king is in the receiving room. As fate would have it, you’ve arrived at the perfect time. Today, subjects have come from every clan to air their grievances and pay homage to their sovereign. You will be allowed to enter the hall without issue, to tell him of your plight and make your request.”
“Request?” Kansas was mesmerized by the wizard’s sensual voice. It seemed to weave around him, beckoning him closer.
“To return home, of course.”
Kansas jerked in surprise when Fenna and Lenard both began to speak at once.
“You’re sending him back?”
“No! You can’t. We just found him!”
The wizard broke eye contact first, looking down at Fenna. “Young Glider, please take your partner and go forward to pay respects to the king. I will care for our human. You did the right thing, bringing him here. You will be properly rewarded for your loyalty.”