by Holly Evans
Quin smirked and shook his head. “I’m not going to let you rough up my lover, as much as he probably shouldn’t have explored quite as much as he did.”
The idea of the elf ’exploring’ my hound made me want to explore his pain tolerance.
Quin held up his hand.
“You’re not touching him. Any of you,” he said.
I looked away and said, “Fine.”
“We do need to find out what’s going on, though, before Evie really does start beating people up,” Raif said.
Quin laughed. “She’s not that bad.”
“That’s not what the pack says,” Raif said.
I blanched; I knew the lycan packs didn’t think particularly highly of me, but I didn’t think my reputation was quite that dire. I wasn’t a thug! Everyone had paused what they were doing to give me a look that quite clearly agreed with what the pack stated.
“Who here is going to tell me what Kadrix is hiding?” I asked.
They all quickly returned to whatever magic they were doing.
“I thought as much,” I muttered to myself.
The two small fae with the fluttering wings whizzed past us and began dusting the main lékárna area. I hoped that there weren’t any people walking by to see those creatures. I sneezed when the dust fell on my hair; it clung to me and smelt like liquorice and grass. Lysander curled his lip and growled at the creatures when they dumped a load of dust over his head. He glared at them, and I tried not to laugh when I watched his dark hair gain lilac stripes.
Quin laughed. “I suppose we can safely say that fae magic reacts different to hellhound magic. Evie, you, er… you have a stripe, too.”
I frowned, running my fingers through my hair. I managed to find a reflective surface and snarled at the flying beasties as I saw the lime green stripe running through my hair.
“This had better wash out,” I shouted.
They had the nerve to titter at me before they dropped another load over Lysander and me and vanished back into the main workshop. I tried to get the dust out of my hair; Quin’s expression told me that I was making the situation worse. Poor Lysander had a mix of pink and lilac stripes running through his hair. He looked almost adorable, if I ignored the death glare. I didn’t dare look at what they’d done to me; Raif covered his mouth with his hand and refused to look at me.
“Fucking fae,” I shouted at the entire workshop.
Kadrix appeared, bags hung under his eyes, his hair messy and his clothes slightly askew. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he’d have been having a little too much fun with that other elf. Quin ran his fingers through Kadrix’s hair and straightened his shirt. The elf stood and smiled, allowing him to do it. Once he was finished, he brushed his lips over Quin’s and held him close.
“I wonder what I did to deserve you,” he said softly.
Quin blushed and kissed his cheek. I squirmed. I’d never been one to feel comfortable with affection, and I wanted to interrogate Kadrix. Their happy moment was making that incredibly awkward. Fortunately, Quin gave me an in.
“Evie said witches have been asking Felix about an artifact, would you know anything about that?” he said.
Kadrix managed to go paler. His ears pinned back to his head, and he looked away from Quin.
“The lycans have nothing they want. The object they seek is safe. There’s nothing more I can say. I’m sorry,” he said quietly.
Lysander pulled me closer to him and nibbled down my ear.
“Let him be, Evelyn,” he whispered.
I exhaled slowly and smiled; the elf was hiding something serious, and I’d kill him if Quin was hurt because of it. He would forgive me eventually.
“Is there nothing you can tell us?” I asked.
Kadrix shook his head.
“No, I’m sorry, Evelyn, I am,” he said.
I flexed my fingers and felt my fire rising, some part of me expected sharp claws to grow from my fingertips. That alarmed me. I was a human. I didn’t have claws.
“Calm, Evelyn, you’re safe,” Lysander said as he nuzzled my neck.
I quelled my fire and calmed myself. There were too many questions and not enough answers; it was starting to infuriate me.
“Why don’t we ask Bryn?” Raif said. “He’s spent a lot of time with witches, and we need to know how Elise is healing.”
I chewed on my bottom lip; it was a long shot, but anything was better than nothing. Raif had already pulled his phone out before I could give him an answer. He soon had a grin on his face.
“He’ll meet us at Strahov Monastery, they have some new beers in,” he said.
I ground my teeth together; I hated beer. Prague was a very beer-centric city, but I despised the stuff. I hoped they’d have some drinkable wine and answers.
“Quin, you should go with them, I need to finish up here. I’ll meet you there at sunset. Is that reasonable?” Kadrix said.
Quin kissed him and smiled.
“Sunset,” he said.
The elf nodded and turned back to walk into the workshop. Quin had more of a bounce in his step than I’d expected, given the situation. Maybe a good run would do all of us some good; the monastery was accessible through the park. We could take our time enjoying the surroundings and unwinding a little before we met Bryn. I hoped he had good news for us; I couldn’t shake the feeling that everything was slowly closing in around us.
The nymphs were oddly active as we made our way through the trees. Where they usually whispered and perhaps danced on the periphery of our vision, they were strutting down the edges of the path. Two of them perched on one of the large rocks, and another one ran along behind us, weaving her way between the trees. When we reached the sharp hairpin bend that twisted almost back the way we’d come and headed up a steep incline, a group of nymphs emerged from the trees. We slowed and came to a stop only to find ourselves surrounded.
Nymphs are one of the very few types of fae who are usually quite calm, almost friendly. They occasionally whisk people away to the fae plane or take them into their tree to enjoy them for a night, but they didn’t kill or attack people like the other types of fae. It was hard to remind myself of that when we were surrounded by them, with their clumsily made wooden weapons and lips pulled back from their surprisingly sharp teeth.
“We will not have our trees stolen from us,” the apparent leader said.
Her dark hair whipped around her, moved by some unseen breeze. Her green eyes blazed with a fire I didn’t think nymphs possessed.
“Who’s stealing your trees?” Quin asked.
“You!” the nymphs spat.
I looked around the group of barely-dressed women in their sheer earthy-toned fabrics with roughly sharpened branches and such. They’d spoken as one; did nymphs have a hive mind? I realised I didn’t know much about them; they’d never been a threat before.
“We’re not touching your trees,” Raif said.
“You plan on stealing them from us!” the leader said, stepping forward and waving her weapon.
“No… we don’t,” Raif said.
“Who told you we did?” Quin asked.
Confusion spread among the group.
“The witch, Ana,” the leader said.
“The witch lied,” Quin said calmly.
They all narrowed their eyes at us.
“You will do no harm to our trees?” the leader asked.
Quin held his hands up, palms out.
“We swear we will do no harm to your trees,” he said.
The rest of us followed suit and showed the palms of our hands. The nymphs looked at each other before they slowly melted back into the trees.
“Do not break your oath,” the leader warned.
She, too, vanished again into the trees, leaving us stunned and confused. It seemed the witches had been stirring up all sorts of trouble.
“What are the witches after?” Lysander growled.
“Something bad,” Raif said.
“We’ll review
it at the monastery with Bryn; he may have additional information,” Quin said.
With that, Quin set off at a jog up the hill, leaving the rest of us with no choice but to follow him. On one hand, I wanted to ease the pressure he was so clearly under, but, on the other, I wanted to know what he knew. There was an invisible weight on his shoulders, and I wanted nothing more than to lift it. He was my twin; it hurt that he didn’t share his burden with me.
Bryn had chosen a quiet table in the corner of the courtyard. He was half-hidden beneath the large umbrella. The other tables were full to bursting with people laughing and talking loudly; only one waitress so much as noticed us making our way to Bryn. Raif flopped down next to Bryn with a grin that the healer didn’t return.
“How’s Elise?” I asked.
“Getting better, thanks. She’s rather annoyed that Kadrix has insisted she stay on bed rest until tomorrow, but I’ve left her with a couple of books to read and her favourite tea,” Bryn said.
I was surprised to find that he left her at all.
“She sent me out, as my fussing was suffocating her,” he said with a wry smile.
Quin looked down pointedly at Bryn’s hands, which I noted had bloody knuckles.
“What happened?” I demanded.
He lifted his hands and looked at the state of them. “A pair of pixies jumped me; they were going on about not being sent back.”
“A group of nymphs came close to attacking us with sticks. They had been told we were going to steal their trees,” Lysander said.
Bryn leaned back in his chair and sighed.
“Any idea what’s got into the witches? What’s their end goal, here?” he asked.
“They’ve been bugging the lycans about an artifact,” Raif said.
Everyone looked at Quin, who was watching Kadrix approach.
“Speaking of artifacts,” I said.
Quin glared at me.
“Kadrix will tell us what he can. He’s a highborn elf, it’s to be expected that there are some things he simply can’t share,” he said.
I ground my teeth and let it slide. Kadrix clearly meant the world to Quin, and I wasn’t willing to lose my twin.
The elf had managed to get a waitress’s attention on his way over; the men all ordered some form of beer, while I had the house wine. Once she’d headed away, the conversation started again.
“Do any of you know which coven an ‘Ana’ is part of?” I asked.
Quin shrugged and pulled Kadrix closer to him. The elf was dishevelled, bags hanging under his eyes and colourful powders clinging to his fingers.
“Ana’s hardly an uncommon name, Evie, and we don’t know the name of every witch in every coven,” Quin said.
“Well it’s all we have right now,” I said.
“Bryn, do you have any ideas about what artifact they might be after?” Raif asked.
He held his hands up and sighed. “There are so many artifacts. Hundreds, and they’re just the ones I’ve heard of.”
“Ok, then why would they want to sever Elise from her lady now? What changed?” I asked.
The waitress came with our beers and carefully placed them in front of everyone; I smiled politely and wished she’d go away. The city was falling into disarray.
“Someone must think she’s a threat,” Lysander said.
“She’s one of the most powerful priestesses in the city and one of the primary guardians,” I said.
“We can assume that means someone plans on attacking the city,” Lysander growled.
“If they had succeeded, then Elise would no longer be able to uphold her sections of the wards and protections that maintain the veils,” Kadrix said quietly.
“Can I have that in English?” I asked.
Quin glared at me.
“The veils keep this plane separate and safe from the other planes. If Elise’s wards were to fall, creatures from those planes would have much easier access to the city,” Quin said.
I took a mouthful of my wine and was pleasantly surprised.
“The witches are trying to bring infernal creatures through again, then,” Lysander growled.
“Not necessarily,” Kadrix said.
We all turned to look at him.
“They could be trying to gain access to the fae plane,” he said softly.
“Could they use the magic held there?” Bryn asked.
Kadrix sighed. “Perhaps, with the right help.”
“What would that mean?” I asked.
“They would become far more powerful and volatile. Fae magic doesn’t play nicely with non-fae,” Quin said.
“Oh joy. More death and destruction,” I said.
We hadn’t made any further progress on anything. After a couple of hours, tempers were beginning to fray. Elise wasn’t well enough to answer any questions, so we had called it a night. Quin had somewhat pointedly handed me the magic book, which appeared to be for small children, and left me to my own devices in the flat. He’d declared that he and the others needed a boys’ night out. Elise was not well enough for company, meaning I was supposed to read through the book. I still wasn’t comfortable with the idea of using magic. Quin seemed to be developing well with his, much to Kadrix’s glee. My own fire had progressed, albeit slower than I would have liked. Still, the idea of being truly magical, of having more than a little hellfire from my hound, did not make me very happy.
I could almost picture Quin lecturing me on how useful it would be to master such an art, to be able to fight the witches on their own terms. I wasn’t one of them. I didn’t want to be one of them. I quite enjoyed stabbing them. With a heavy sigh, I sat down in the middle of the living room and opened the book.
The introduction was long-winded and dry, so I skipped it and went looking for fire-based magic. It seemed quite logical to me; I had my hellfire, I could use it. Sometimes. The fire magic was quite far into the book and opened with yet more dry philosophical stuff about being calm and one with the energies or something. I skimmed until I reached something I could actually use. Forming a fireball, that seemed like a good starting place. I’d figured out how to set my hands on fire, and I could run the fire down my blades when I was holding them. Normal blades, at least; the celestial blades rebelled quite fiercely.
The instructions seemed quite simple, if a little condescending. Envision the fire and mould it into a ball. Simple. I ignored the bits about meditation and the network; I could summon my fire my way. Closing my eyes, I formed the ball of fire in the centre of my chest and felt it spread down my arms and over my hands. It was getting easier with each try; I hadn’t decided how I felt about that, but in that moment I was rather pleased with myself. Keeping my eyes closed, I pushed the fire up into the palms of my hands and attempted to mould it into a ball. The book had said to start with one ball, but I could already form fire, so I saw no reason not to get to the point.
The fire flickered and danced; I dared to open my eyes just a little to see if it was even vaguely ball shaped. It was. At least it looked ball shaped from the middle of the inferno that danced around me. It was beautiful. The yellows merged into deep reds, which spread up into pale blues. It stopped being beautiful the moment it stretched out to the sofa. The smell of burning fabric cut through the peacefulness and quickly brought on a flat-out panic. I tried to mentally wrap my mind around the fire and squash it, but there was so much. Did I call the fire brigade? Could they even put out hellfire? I wasn’t sure if I could move, and if I did, would the inferno move with me?
I sat entirely motionless in the middle of the floor and panicked. Every thought fled my mind.
Lysander came to the rescue, as he’s prone to doing when I screw up the hellfire. They all crowded into the living room. Lysander’s look of panic dissolved into one of mild disapproval. Quin had the audacity to cross his arms, and Kadrix simply laughed. The fire was gone in the blink of an eye, and with it went any semblance of patience or good mood I may have had.
By some miracle, the sofa
had only sustained light burns around the edges; a little black charring wasn’t going to stop it from working as a sofa. The table and dining room chairs were a touch blackened, but didn’t seem to have sustained structural damage. All in all, it wasn’t such a disaster.
“You jumped into the middle, didn’t you?” Quin said.
I glared at him. I didn’t appreciate his tone. Lysander approached slowly with his arms extended. He pulled me close to him and rested his chin on top of my head for a moment before he held my upper arms and looked at me with a small frown.
“Why must you try and rush things, Evelyn?” he said with an exasperated sigh.
“I did not ask to have hellfire, and I do not appreciate being treated like a child,” I growled.
His pain flickered down the bond; I ignored it.
“If you act like a child, you’ll be treated like one,” Quin said.
“How did I act like a child?” I snapped back.
“By leaping in at the deep end and making no preparations, for giving no fucks about the potential consequences. You just assumed other people would clear up your messes,” he replied.
I hated the truth in his words. I hated that Lysander had had to rescue me from a fuck up with the hellfire yet again.
I lifted my chin and said, “Then I will stop screwing around with this magic bullshit. It’s wrong. We should not be able to use it.“
Lysander stepped back, his eyes lowered.
“Don’t be so fucking closed-minded, Evie! We can use this magic for good. You always claim you want to protect the city and you’ve been given a fantastic way to do just that, and you turn it away because you don’t like it? Open your eyes, Evie,” Quin shouted back.
“You’re not the normal hunter you like to pretend, Evelyn,” Kadrix added.
“Get out,” I snarled at him.
“The magic gave you Lysander as well as the fire. Do not forget that, Evie,” Quin snarled before he slammed the door on his way out.
Lysander sat on the sofa, his eyes low and his hands in his lap. I didn’t need the bond to know that I’d hurt him. Rather than face that, I looked around.