by KJ Baker
“Get down!” Ffion hissed suddenly.
We ducked behind a supply wagon just as a squad of warriors came hurrying past. They were wearing woodsman’s clothing so I guessed they were outlying pickets called back by the commotion at the front. We waited until they were out of sight and then carried on, moving silently through the camp, searching for any clue as to where the prisoners might be being held.
The minutes ticked by. Any moment now, the Sun magic would obliterate my Shadows and our opportunity would be lost. We searched but found nothing except supply sheds and storage units. My jaw tightened. This was getting us nowhere.
“Cover me,” I instructed Ffion.
She nodded tightly and I crouched in the mud, put my hand flat on the ground and sent my senses questing outward. I searched for anything out of the ordinary, any spark of life that didn’t belong in the Summerlands, anything that didn’t have the distinctive signature of the Fae. The fury and chaos of the battle raging at the front swamped me immediately. It took all my concentration to stop myself being swept away by it.
I forced my senses deeper, sending my awareness questing out across the camp searching for...
There! A cluster of life energies pulsing with fear.
I opened my eyes, surged to my feet and spun around, searching the shadows for what I sought. I spotted it. A large tent like a pavilion several hundred meters away.
“This way!”
We broke into a sprint. We dodged around tents, sheds, wagons and pens, keeping low to avoid being seen. Twice we ran into sentries and twice Ffion’s lightning reflexes saved us, pulling me into cover before the sentries spotted us.
Then at last we reached the open patch of ground around the pavilion.
It was guarded. A ring of Unseelie warriors, at least eight, stood watch. They had their weapons drawn and stood alert and ready, ignoring the clamor of battle from the front.
We had to go in swiftly and quickly, use the darkness to take as many of them out as possible before they were able to coordinate their defense.
From our hiding place I gave Ffion a look. She understood the unspoken message and nodded tightly. I held up my fingers and used them to count down silently. One. Two. Three.
We burst from our hiding place but we only managed to take three steps before the power of my Shadow magic shattered and sunlight flooded the battlefield.
The sentries spotted us instantly. With a cry of surprise and anger, they rushed us. Eight against two. Not good odds but the best we were going to get.
The first one came at me, swinging a double-bladed battle-ax that gleamed in the morning sunlight. I punched my hand out towards him and a fist of magic slammed into him, sending him back a step with a grunt of pain. I took advantage by kicking his ax out of his hand and thrusting my blade through his chest.
Beside me Ffion spun and kicked, ducked and weaved, her twin knives a blur, and two more sentries went down. I gave myself over to the rage inside me. I stopped thinking and let it take over. My body moved automatically, ducking under a wild swipe, punching my attacker in the face, and then sweeping his legs out from under him before moving onto the next.
Then suddenly I reached the tent and there were no more attackers. I turned to look back and saw all eight down, either dead or unconscious. Ffion stood in a fighting crouch, one blade held low, the other high, as her eyes scanned for further adversaries. There were none. Slowly, she straightened.
I took a deep breath, nodded to my sister, and the two of us slipped inside the tent.
The stench of fear was so strong it nearly floored me as we stepped inside. The interior of the tent was dimly lit by a single lamp which illuminated seven humans, men and women of varying ages, in a huddle in the center of the tent. They had been chained to the central post and they were ragged and dirty.
They cowered back as Ffion and I entered, scuttling away from us as far as their chains would allow. I strode over to them and crouched.
“Listen to me. I don’t have time to explain, but we are not here to hurt you. You must come with us now.”
They cringed away from me, eyes wide and rolling with near-panic. I forced myself to take a breath. What must I look like to them? A Fae bursting into their tent carrying weapons and covered in blood? No wonder they were terrified.
“My name is Arion Storm,” I said in what I hoped was a calming tone. “This is my sister Ffion. We’ve come to take you out of here. Can you walk?”
One of them, a burly man with curly brown hair and beard, blinked a few times and then climbed slowly to his feet. “I can bloody well walk out of here, that’s for sure.”
As if taking strength from the big man’s display, the others climbed slowly to their feet as well. They were a sorry looking lot and I wondered how long they’d been held prisoner and where they’d come from. Questions for later. In the distance, the horns began ringing for the retreat. Once the Sun magic had been employed, I had left orders for Hawk to call our forces back and signal an orderly withdrawal. Soon the dead sentries outside would be noticed. We had to go now.
I walked up to the central post and examined the chains. They were well made and linked through several loops into the post. No doubt one of the sentries would have a key to unlock the prisoners’ shackles but we didn’t have time to search them now.
I placed my hands on the central post. I’d expended a lot of magic tonight and I was close to exhaustion but I knew I couldn’t stop yet.
“Link hands,” I told the prisoners.
They did as I asked and Ffion joined them, her disdain at having to hold hands with mortals plain on her face, but she said not a word. I closed my eyes, concentrated on the thick wooden post, as wide as a small tree trunk, and sent my magic surging into it. It split with a loud cracking noise, releasing the huge copper pin that held the shackles in place. I yanked it out of the wood and the moment the prisoners were free I grabbed the wrists of the nearest, spoke a word and invoked my magic one final time.
The tent flap suddenly burst open and Unseelie warriors came flooding in. But it was too late. The teleport took hold and the tent, the warriors and the camp blinked out of existence.
ASHA
“Here, drink this,” Samuel said, pushing a mug into my shaking hands.
I lifted the cup to my lips and took a sip. Hot chocolate. And something else, something a little stronger.
“Whisky,” Samuel said with a wry smile. “My mom used to swear by it. It will help deal with the shock.”
I nodded and took another gulp although I suspected I would need way more than a shot of whisky to steady my nerves. I felt sick. A headache pounded behind my eyes. I longed to sleep, to fall into oblivion and not wake for a long, long time, yet I knew that the restless energy swirling through my veins would not let me sleep.
There was a knock on the door and Samuel got up to answer it. Taviel stood outside, scowling.
“I don’t appreciate being summoned like some servant,” the Fae snapped. “What’s so important you drag me down here, Samuel?”
“Asha asked to see you,” Samuel replied, pointedly looking in my direction. “She wants to talk to you.”
Was I imagining it or did Taviel’s expression soften? “Oh. I see.”
I rose to my feet as Taviel stalked into my apartment. He came into the living room and stopped a few meters away.
He looked oddly out of place amidst the clutter of human surroundings. Whereas Raven seemed at home wherever he was, there was no mistaking that Taviel was something other, something different that would never fit into the mortal realm.
He gave me a flourishing bow, the expression on his face faintly mocking. “You called, my lady.”
I put down my mug of hot chocolate. I glanced at Samuel who nodded encouragingly.
“I wanted to speak to you about something...I...um...I...”
Taviel said nothing, merely gazing at me patiently, waiting for me to go on.
“Samuel says there is a way to remove a
bond. Or the glamor, if that’s what it really is. Is this true?”
Taviel raised an eyebrow. He glanced at Samuel and back to me. “Now why would you want to know about that?”
“Just answer me. Is it true? Is it something you could do?”
He stared at me for so long I began to feel uncomfortable. “Yes, it’s true,” he said at last. “Although the process is not easy and not without risk.”
I let out a long, juddering breath. Part of me screamed in outrage for asking such a question, for entertaining the idea. What on earth was I thinking? Was I really going to trust Taviel and Felena over Raven? No. I couldn’t. Raven was my mate.
Who betrayed me, I thought. Who lied to me from the start.
He’s quite smitten with your daughter and under the circumstances it seems appropriate that we arrange the wedding as quickly as possible.
My stomach knotted and it took all of my willpower not to empty my guts onto the carpet. How could he do this to me? How could he have betrayed me like this?
Because he isn’t who you thought he was, that little voice whispered in my mind. He’s a liar. A cheat. A murderer.
I closed my eyes, shuddering, as the images Taviel had shown me formed in my memory. Raven wading into the Unseelie peace delegation, meting out death without mercy.
Oh, Raven.
I fixed my gaze on Taviel and took a deep, steadying breath. “How?” I asked him. “How is it done? Raven removed your glamor from Gracie by wiping her memories of you. Is that how it works?”
Taviel gestured to a seat. “May I?”
When I nodded my assent, he sank onto the chair. I sat down opposite him and grabbed my hot chocolate, wishing Samuel had put more whisky in it.
“I assume this is not a hypothetical question,” Taviel said. “Has something happened, Asha? The last time I spoke to you, you were adamant that I was lying about what Raven had done to you. What’s changed?”
I swallowed thickly. “I...I...saw something. In the Grand Library.”
Taviel’s eyes flashed. “The Grand Library is forbidden. And it is warded. How did you get in there?”
“Felena had been in. She must have lowered the wards.”
Taviel growled under her breath. “That idiot woman. Her obsession will be the death of her.” His gaze snapped to me. “What did you see in there? Tell me!”
I swallowed again. Taviel was every inch the Fae warrior, every inch a predator who could kill me in an instant. And yet, I wasn’t afraid. I was way beyond being afraid.
“Something about Raven.” I forced the words beyond the lump in my throat. “Something I didn’t want to see.”
Taviel’s gaze softened. Was that pity I saw in his eyes? Compassion? From a ruthless Unseelie lord?
Nothing is as it seems. Nothing.
“I see,” Taviel said. “I’m sorry you had to find out like that. I’m sorry you got mixed up in this in the first place. Raven should never have brought you here. He should never have used you the way he did. I blame myself for that. Had Shezl and I not blundered into your shop that night, Raven would never have known who you were. We were over-eager. We should have found another way to get the Orb of Tir from you. A more...peaceful way. After that, you stood no chance. Raven needed you. You had the Orb of Tir, you knew far more about the mortal realm than he did, and he needed you to help track us down. He used you, Asha. I’m sorry.”
Taviel’s words were like spear points piercing my heart. I gasped at the pain, wrapping my arms around my stomach and leaning forward, curling around myself.
“But in answer to your question,” Taviel replied, leaning forward. “No, it will not be like what Raven did to Gracie. In that instance, I had placed only the lightest of glamors on her. I did not want to hurt her any more than necessary, and by removing the memories of me, my glamor was removed from her mind. It will not work that way with you. Raven has woven his hooks too deeply, into every aspect of your psyche. But it can be done. In order to do that, you have to trust me. Completely.”
What are you doing? a voice screamed in my head. This is Taviel! How can you even think about this after what he did to Gracie? Are you insane?
Yes, I think I was. At least a little. I was so confused. Confused. Hurt. Broken.
I felt my heart breaking in two. There were only shards of me left.
I met Taviel’s dark gaze. “All right. How do we do this?”
RAVEN
I couldn’t stop pacing. Six paces, turn. Six paces, turn. Over and over again outside Rillana’s tent where she’d taken the humans we’d rescued from the Unseelie camp. What was she doing in there? It had been hours. Every moment of delay was a moment longer away from Asha. What was taking so long?
“Will you stop that?” Ffion snapped from where she sat on a rock, watching me pace. “You’re wearing a furrow in the ground.”
I scowled at her but didn’t stop my pacing. Rillana’s tent was a grand white pavilion befitting the Spire and was positioned well back from the front lines of the army, on a hill overlooking the plain.
As instructed, Hawk had sounded the retreat as soon as the Sun magic had dispelled my Shadows and the Seelie lines had pulled back, leaving gaping holes in the Unseelie defense where we had cut through their lines. We’d suffered minimal casualties but the Unseelie had not fared so well. We didn’t have exact numbers owing to the darkness of my Shadow magic but the estimates ran to over a thousand. The attack had been a resounding success, achieving everything we set out to.
But I felt no elation, no satisfaction. Instead, only a bone-deep sadness. How had it come to this? There had always been fights, border scuffles and tension between the Seelie and Unseelie. But this? Where would it end? When we were all dead? When we had all been sent to the Twilight Lands?
I turned as the tent flap pulled back and Rillana stepped out. She looked weary, with dark circles under her eyes and her white robe rumpled and stained.
“Well?” I demanded. “What did you discover?”
“You’d better come in.”
I shared a look with Ffion and then the two of us followed Rillana into the tent. Inside, it had been set up like a hospital. The humans we’d rescued lay in beds along the walls, white covers pulled up to their chins, eyes closed.
“They’re sedated,” Rillana explained. “After what they’ve been through, they need time to rest and heal. Come.”
She led us to the center of the tent where three camp chairs had been set up. She sank onto one, taking a cup of something hot from one of her healers with a weak smile. I remained standing.
Rillana sighed. “The humans have been tampered with in the same way Maria had been,” she said. “I’ve never seen anything like it. It’s as though someone has walked into their mind, rifled through their memories, and taken the ones they wanted, leaving behind everything else.”
“Can anything be done for them?”
“I hope so. They don’t seem as damaged as Maria so I’m hopeful we might be able to heal them.”
“Thank you, Rillana. Whatever you need, it’s yours. Did you discover why this has been done to them and by who?”
She looked up, met my gaze. “I’m afraid I did. They were being taken to the Spire to complete a procedure that had been begun whilst they were prisoners at the Sun Court. One of them had hazy recollections of that procedure. The Unseelie have taken their memories for a very specific reason: to build a simulacrum.”
“A what?”
“A simulacrum. An imitation of life. Something that appears real, living, but is in fact, only a copy. An amalgamation of other people’s memories given life by Unseelie magic.”
I frowned. This made no sense. “I don’t understand. For what purpose would they do such a thing?”
“Raven, they have Asha. She is alone amongst the Unseelie. Alone and frightened. They don’t want her to be either of these things. They want her to trust them. So what better way to win her trust than have a human speak on their behalf? One who has mem
ories of the mortal realm? One whose experiences are just like hers?”
I stared at her as the import of her words sank in. “They’re trying to trick her,” he breathed. “Win her trust.”
Rillana nodded. “So it seems.”
“But why?”
“Raven, Asha holds a power that no human has held in thousands of years. A power that even we Fae do not fully understand. She holds the power of your bond. That power proved greater even than that of the Orb of Tir. Taviel will want that power for himself. Yet it is not something that can be taken. It is something that must be given willingly.” Her eyes met mine. “I’m sorry, Raven. Taviel is going to take your bond with Asha.”
Chapter 10
ASHA
“Didn’t you ever want to go home?” I asked Samuel. “After Eliana died, I mean? What made you decide to stay?”
Samuel shrugged. “What did I have to go home to? I have lived in the Summerlands for so long that sometimes I can barely remember what the mortal realm even looks like. This is my home now. And besides, I believe in Taviel’s cause, just as Eliana did. I vowed to do all in my power to help him.”
I nodded, saying nothing. We were sitting on a hard bench in the High Temple that formed the very heart of the Spire. It looked a little like the inside of a church with its vaulted ceiling and fluted columns, although that’s where the similarity ended. There was something other about the temple, something that spoke of a power and grace that humans could never hope to understand. It was ageless, timeless, a place that had stood for eons and would stand for eons more. It was here, Samuel had told me, that was the spiritual heart of the Fae people. This was the place where the Spire and her acolytes held their ceremonies, where they conducted the rituals that held the Fae culture together. The temple was a place of worship but also of more secular uses. It was a court of law and one of celebration. Fae were often married here, and kings and queens were crowned.