She pushed up onto her elbows, brow furrowed. “A friend? What friend?”
“A man, one of the Fae. I knew him a long time ago, before you were old enough to remember—you’d like him, I think. But he lives very far away. Mathilda’s going to stay at the house and look after you while I’m gone.”
“How far away does he live?”
“California,” I said, then thought better of it. “In a manner of speaking. You remember how I told you the Underworld is different than it used to be?”
She nodded, tiredness still pulling at her features.
“Well, one of the differences is, it’s much more difficult to travel between plains. I have to fly to California to get to the only open portal that’s left.”
“Portal?” Rowan squinted her confusion. “Where are you taking a portal? And why is there only one?”
“That we know of,” I amended, though Mathilda seemed fairly confident. “I have to go to the Fae realm to see him, or one of the realms. Honestly, sweetie, it’s too early in the morning for you to hear about all this faery stuff—it confused me when I heard it, and I was in my thirties.”
“How long are you going to be gone?” she asked.
“Not too long.” I hoped that was true. “But I do have to leave right away. I just wanted to say goodbye before I left.”
Rowan’s eyes widened. She moved very suddenly, trying to sit up the rest of the way under the tumble of heavy blankets.
“Let me come to the airport with you,” she said. “I could drop you off…” She tugged at the blanket corner I was sitting on. “I’ll see you off at the gate and stuff.”
“No, Rowan,” I said with a laugh. “You’re sweet to offer, but you only have a learner’s permit, so you couldn’t drive back on your own.”
Her face fell a little at that, but she didn’t seem to have a rebuttal.
“Besides, there’s a cab waiting for me downstairs.”
“Will you at least take this?” She leaned over the bed, reached into her top drawer and handed me a vial with a clear, glimmering liquid inside. “It’s a luck elixir I made with Mathilda a while back. Will you take it… just to make sure you travel safe?”
“Thank you, sweetie.” I took the vial in both hands, touched by her concern.
A tussle of blankets and she threw her arms around me, nuzzling into my shoulder. “Bye, Mummy,” she said. “Please hurry back. I’ll miss you while you’re gone.”
“I’ll miss you too, honey, so, so much.” I kissed her on the cheek, then pulled back, smiling encouragingly. “Why don’t you go back to sleep, now? Mathilda will have breakfast ready when you wake up—and she can make eggs that aren’t scrambled.”
Rowan’s arms fell away, tiredness pulling at her once again. Her eyes fluttered closed. I gently guided her head back toward the pillow.
Settling into the softness, she mumbled, “love you, mum…”
I ran a hand lovingly across her hair, took a moment to commit her features to memory; I might need to draw strength from this memory.
“I love you too, Rowan. I’ll be back soon.”
###
It was easy enough to get a cab out of LAX.
Easy enough to get the driver to take me to Redwood National Park, even if the fare was incredibly expensive. It was a far trip, after all.
It wasn’t even that hard to find the specific redwood that Mathilda had circled for me in red sharpie on my Google Maps print-out.
“Come on, Bryn, you can do this,” I whispered to myself as I pressed my palm against the redwood. Immediately, the bark heated up, like a quick-warming stove. I leaned forward, all my weight bearing into the tree. The heat became a scorching blaze, but I didn’t let up. Then, with a sound like breaking bones, the tree cracked straight down the middle.
It looked like lightning had struck the tree from the inside. A white glowing crack zig-zagged down the bark in both directions. My hands burned. Splinters slid under the skin of my palm, stinging. The tree shook as the crack spread.
Suddenly, the light swallowed me whole. I pinched my eyes shut as the gate overtook me.
When I opened them, I found myself on a pedestal, next to two men. Below us, the streets were lined with flower arches. Fluting music filled the air, and everyone looked dressed to the nines—even by faery standards.
What’s going on…
Odran, the King of the Fae, stood in front, a bit lower down, addressing what looked like ten thousand faeries. But all eyes were on me.
Sensing the disturbance—my expulsion from a portal onto a pedestal, Odran turned, his fanciful, gold-rimmed robes swayed in the wind. Our eyes locked. For a moment, he was shocked, then a mischievous twinkle lit his gaze, and he turned back to the rapt crowd.
“Ladies an’ Gentleman!” His voice boomed over the crowd, his thick Scottish accent present and accounted for. “It appears we have our third competitor!”
There was a deafening roar from the crowd.
“Wait, what?” I asked, frowning at him.
Competitor?
The petals started lowering. The two Fae men, Odran and I arrived on the ground at the same time. A dome of light surrounded us. I felt something drop into the pit of my stomach. I think it was my heart.
“Odran!” I stormed up to him, swung him around by the shoulder. “What’s going on? What is all this? And what did you mean ‘third competitor’?
“’Tis verra nice to see ye as well, Princess,” he said, smiling through his blond beard. “The games are on, lass! We were takin’ volunteers for the occasion, an’ ye’ve come jist in time to play!”
“Odran, I don’t have time for games! That isn’t why I’ve come!”
“Ye misoonderstand, lass.” He wagged his finger and tsked disapprovingly. “These arenae mere means by which to pass the time. Ours is the original Olympiad, mind ye. Keep the spirits oop in troublin’ times. Nae small feat, that is.”
“I’m not trying to interrupt. I need your help.”
“Aye, an’ so I shall help ye… after the games,” he said. It had the resonant ring of a promise.
His smile widened. I wanted to knock his perfect teeth out.
“Odran…”
“Ye can argue, or ye can fight; the first challenge is magic.” He waggled his finger in front of me, gesturing to the top of my old podium, now just a flat marble square in the ground. The other two men were standing on theirs, both posed to charge.
The crowd outside pressed against the dome as the other combatants readied themselves. The watchers outside levitated above each other in tiers, watching from the non-existent bleachers. I sighed in frustration and stomped back to my pedestal.
There was no use in arguing with Odran. He was stubborn as stubborn could be. He was also the king, so I guessed it made sense that I’d have to play by his rules. So what if I was a little out of practice in the magic department? I opened the gate in the redwoods. I could take three Faeries coming at me with all their strength... right?
I squatted low to the ground, getting my bearings. My pants strained tight against an obstruction—the luck elixir Rowan had given me. I’d forgotten I had it, but kept it tucked away.
“On the count of three…” The crowd joined him. Their muffled voices intensified my feeling of being in a fish tank with sharks. The mass of voices counted gleefully: “One... Two... Three!”
The first “round” was over before I could leave my podium. Odran knocked the first Fae out cold with a burst of electric energy, like a beam of pure lightning. The end of round one was announced with a gong-like bell tone. And I hadn’t traded any blows.
“Morenichai has fallen!” Odran roared. “Round two!”
The countdown began again. This time, I was ready on the count of three.
Dropping to the ground, I drew energy up from the earth. My blood sped through my veins. The barrel-chested fae to my left charged me with murder in his eyes. I connected my wrists and opened my palms, unleashing a flood of bright white energy, a solid be
am of lightning.
He threw up a shield to block the heat, but the blow still knocked him on his ass. I capitalized, charging forward with another beam, this one, right between his eyes. He was too stunned to respond this time, and he went limp against the ground.
Silence.
I turned around slowly. Odran stood behind me, still on his pedestal, arms crossed, grin in full swing.
Applause echoed. The cheering was so loud, the protective dome vibrated with the sound.
Odran and I locked eyes.
“Down to the two of oos, it seems,” Odran said with a wink. “Onto round three then, boot be warned: this calls for a change in locale.”
“What do you…” I started, really not in the mood for all the fuss Odran put into these things. As the King of the fae and Faery, in general, Odran didn’t have much to do but all day in which to do it. So when he put on this types of spectacles, he did them with a flourish.
Odran snapped his fingers, and the marble floors, flowers and fae all disappeared from view. I was caught in a void, colors and rhythms, ever-fluctuating entropy that I couldn’t make sense of at all.
Then I saw, on the top step of a dark, a shallow staircase.
Odran was nowhere to be seen.
I set my shoulders and took a step down. “All right, round three,” I muttered to steel my courage. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”
###
It was a dark, low room. Curtains and tapestries gave it a claustrophobic coziness. In the middle, there was a black circular card table. It reminded me of the psychic store where had Jolie told fortunes before she’d met Rand. I’d seen so many pictures of that place, her very own small business. An entire life before the Underworld. A wave of longing for my sister crashed over me. Had Odran not appeared behind me with a large hand on my shoulder, I think my knees would’ve given out.
“This is the final round,” he said.
“Cards?” I couldn’t believe my own eyes. “You expect me to believe that the final round of the game of games is you and me playing cards?”
“Aye, lass,” he said, a cheeky grin breaking through the shiny blond beard. He pulled out the chair and gestured for me to sit.
Reluctantly, I took a seat. Clearly, I wasn’t getting Odran’s help until the game was done. And the quickest way out was to win. “What’s the game?”
“Poker.” He took his seat, almost fading to black in the room’s dark shadows.
He dealt, and we sat, playing mostly in silence, save for the crackling candles. There was an odd look on his face, like he wasn’t quite sure how to broach a certain topic. Rather than keep skirting around the issue, he barrelled straight through, eyes on the cards.
“It has been many a moon since I’ve seen ye, lass,” Odran started.
I nodded. “It has.”
“It is good to see yer beautiful face… it reminds me of better times.” He looked above his handful of cards then, meeting my gaze head on.
“It’s good to see you too, Odran.”
“Truth be told, lass, whether ye hate him or nae, I’d still call that blood-soockin’ man o’ yours a friend.”
“He’s no man of mine.” The anger was instant. He didn’t even have to say Sinjin’s name; I felt his presence like a hot iron rod to the heart. Teeth clenched, I tried to be reasonable. “Odran…”
“Let me speak,” he said firmly. “Then ye willnae have to hear me tired thoughts on the matter agin.”
Tension ringed my upper neck, but I managed a nod. “Fine,” I said. “It’s your turn, anyway.”
Let him say what he wants, I thought defiantly. It won’t change a thing.
“Well, I’ll say this o’ Sinclair then. The lad’s heart... it doesnae beat, boot he’s got it in the right place.
“All due respect, your highness.” My words were clipped, voice tight. “You really don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He chuckled, mirthless and dry, his eyes resting on the table between us. “Perhaps, lass,” he said. “Or, perhaps you’re nae quite as alone with truth as ye care to think.”
Odran threw a few more coins into the pot. He must’ve had a decent hand this time.
“You know what happened to Jolie as well as I do,” I said.
He cocked his head to the side. “As I oonderstand it, nae one knows whit happened to the queen.”
“Sinjin does,” I answered, hating the words as they emptied from my mouth.
“An’ he’s always sworn his innocence,” Odran replied.
“He’s not innocent. He’s never been innocent.”
Odran lifted his stack of cards and fanned them open, covering his face. “Your move.”
“Is that why you had me play this stupid game?” I asked, more haughtily than was probably necessary. “So you could defend Sinjin?” I almost wondered if Sinjin had put him up to it.
“Nae.” He shook his head, eyes steadfast on my face. “I asked ye to play because ‘tis clear you havenae played at anything in far too long.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I crossed my arms over my chest, sitting up a touch taller in my uncomfortable wooden chair.
“I know you’ve sooffered, Bryn.” My name sounded so different in his odd Scottish accent, almost like it had two syllables. “Ye sooffered some o’ the worst fates life’s got to offer, an’ ye stand tall despite it. That’s more strength in ye than in most.”
“So what?” I threw my hands up, let them fall in my lap. “You wanted to see if I’d take the beating on top of everything else?”
“No, that isnae why.” He fanned out the cards. “This place enhances whatever ye bring with ye, and you’ve come bearing so mooch pain, lass. I could feel it from where ye stood on the column.” Sympathy welled in his eyes. My chest tightened a bit. I fought the feeling and failed. “It isnae right, how things are, boot I wanted ye to have a wee bit of... well foon before ye set off, sword in hand, toward the fire an’ brimstone you’re so clearly after.”
We were silent for a moment. “How did you know?” I asked, wondering how he knew I was in search of entry to the Abyss.
“Mathilda,” he answered with a shrug. “She asked me to grant ye passage.”
“And you said you would?”
He nodded quickly. “I feel I owe ye an’ yer kin, fer all you’ve done for me people. An’ the fae never forget a debt,” he said solemnly.
“Ah.” Understanding dawned. “Hence, poker.”
It made sense now; Poker was practically the concept of debt transformed into a card game. The fae did love sitting around, following their own rules to the letter of the law. “No debts left unpaid,” I mused, looking over my hand. “I’m all in.”
I shoved my pile of gold coins into the center of the table and fanned out my cards: full house.
Odran and I locked eyes.
There was something in his features I couldn’t quite place, but the competitive edge seemed almost entirely gone. Replaced with a native curiosity.
“I must say, you’ve played verra well so far,” he said, then leveled me with a critical, curious stare. His eyes never once fell to the cards in my hand.
“And?”
He nodded, eyes narrowed in thought. “Why do ye seek entrance to the Abyss?”
“Mathilda didn’t tell you?”
“She did.”
“Then you already know.”
He continued to stare at me. “I want to hear it from yer own mouth.”
“I know Jolie is there… trapped. I’m going after her.”
He sighed, long and hard. “‘tis what I feared…”
“Don’t try to talk me out of it, Odran. Mathilda tried and failed.” I realized I was leaning almost all the way across the table and sat back. “Please, Odran, I’m asking for your help. Mathilda said you were the only one who could give it.”
“I’ve already said I would.”
“How do I get to the Abyss?”
“There is a shaman, in the joongles o’
the Peruvian Amazon Basin,” he said. “She’s said to know a path between the plains. A shifty creature, to be sure, an’ hard to come by if ye dinnae know where to look.”
“How do I find her?”
Odran looked thoughtfully at the ground. “I know a fae, lives in a small Brazilian village near the ocean.”
“And there’s a portal here, within Faery?”
Odran nodded. “When ye arrive, ye’ll have a guide awaitin’ ye.”
My heart leapt into my throat. This meant, I could be in Brazil tonight. I’d be so close…
“Thank you, Odran.” My voice was a bit thick with emotion. “I’ll never forget this... any of it,” I added with a smile.
“I would offer to send me own people with ye,” he started but I interrupted him, shaking my head.
“It’s not their fight,” I answered. “And you’d be risking their lives. I understand.”
He nodded. “Loock be with ye, lass,” he said. “Wherever ye go.”
NINE
SINJIN
Another day in paradise.
In a vial that I kept with me at all times, was a small amount of blood belonging to my lost love, my hellion, my tempest, my Bryn. I kept it for sentimental reasons, but also practical ones. Bryn’s blood, uniquely amongst all of those whose blood I had tasted over the centuries, gave me the ability to go out in daylight, without the usual health problems this causes vampires (health problems such as death, for example).
At times like this, I did sometimes think about drinking it.
My trip to Salem had left me morose—even more so than usual. Being that close to Emma, but not being able to see her, yet hearing Stone talk about the woman she was becoming… all of it had affected me more than I thought it would. I supposed, as much as anything else, it made me think about Bryn and Rowan, and everything I was missing. Vampires do not age, but that can sometimes make us all the more sensitive to those around us who do.
Feeling as low as I did, I was in no mood to head back to the Carpathia, and so had come to a modest island that I acquired some years ago as a private retreat, a place to go when I wanted to be completely alone.
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