by Doug Burbey
His long hair the color of dark rum, his features too sharp, to perfect to be human, and eyes slightly too large, which only added to the overall appeal. The Fae looked up as Shane slid into the booth across from him, his eyes narrowing.
"Why are you disturbing my …" he trailed off and looked at his drink then back at Shane. "My mourning?" Even though he said the words they held no actual curiosity or anger.
Mourning huh? Let's see what I can find out.
Shane filled the glasses he grabbed half full of liquor and pushed one towards the Fae putting on a concerned face as he shrugged.
"You looked like someone that needed a shoulder. You should never drink to lost loved ones alone. They deserve more than that."
The Fae tossed back his drink with a snarl. "Yes, my children deserve more." He snaked the other glass towards him and sniffed it cautiously. It must have passed whatever test he ran as he took a sip and nodded taking a bigger sip.
Shane lifted his to his mouth and let it wet his tongue, nope it wasn't tequila, something local that had a kick.
Don't drink too much of this or you'll lose sight of what you are trying to accomplish.
Not that he had any idea what he might accomplish tonight, but nothing wagered nothing gained. Shane let the man drink and analyzed him more. While the world didn't know much about the Fae, they seemed to express emotions like humans. Stress lines around the eyes and mouth. Tight hand wrapped around the glass. And the trace of redness and wetness on his face. All screamed sorrow or grief.
"So tell me about your children?" Shane prompted and really hoped he wasn't about to get a wallet full of pictures and cutesy poses to make him want to drink. Children had never factored into his long-term plans.
The man looked up and snarled again. "My children are dead. My grandchildren are dead. And now my great-grandchildren were found drained of blood and tossed away like rubbish. Demons would not leave bodies covered with marks, they would have drained them, not drugged and used them. And for what? What could my children have done? They were so young. Not even past their first three decades. And they die so soon as it is. Who would do this to my children?" As he talked Shane had refilled his glass. The man tossed back the drink his voice hoarse from his emotions.
Shane tried to look like he listened, but his mind raced trying to catch all the information this Fae had passed. It had been suspected they lived a long time like they had in the legends, but none of them had mentioned they had children that were part human. If they did and had children here, what could Fae blood do?
Demon blood Shane knew intimately. But maybe someone had stumbled onto what Fae blood could do? The idea teased at him, but he'd rather have knowledge. Humans lacked that more than anything else. He suspected humans had their own magic but they couldn't figure out how to use it. Locked away from it by ignorance.
He wouldn't be denied. "Tell me about your children, the ones taken from you too soon." The Fae's eyes jerked up and caught Shane's eyes and he flinched a bit from the rage in those pale blue depths.
"What is it to you, human?" He snarled, but he drank from his glass, his words slurred just a touch.
"No one should lose their children. Do you think we are so callous?" he stuck out his hand to the other man, gambling this would work. "Shane Gris, tell me about the ones you lost?"
The Fae looked at him for so long Shane wondered if his gambit would fail, but with glacial slowness, the Fae reached up and shook Shane's hand. Long fingers curled around his hand and squeezed, harder than a normal human might have, and Shane could feel the buzz of magic that rippled under the skin.
"Caedrich Arc Irilian." The Fae offered as he pulled his hand back.
"So, tell me, Rich. What happened to your children?"
For a minute Shane wondered if he'd gone too far, but the Fae barked out a laugh that had no humor in it. "Caedrich, Rich. My Siobhan would have enjoyed that." He pronounced the name as Sho-van. "Very well, I shall share my grief and my determination to have my vengeance on those that took my children from me."
As Rich talked Shane kept his glass filled, but only barely touched his as he tried to figure out exactly how he could use all of this to get him what he needed, knowledge.
"I come to this realm only occasionally. My last visit had been two of your months ago. When I arrived at their house, they were not there. Confused, as they knew when I would arrive, I entered via the back to find decay and rot. I looked everywhere and they were not there. Worried and furious I strode to their neighbors to demand information as to their whereabouts."
Shane watched with, he hoped, veiled amusement. The man oozed noblesse oblige and made it obvious he thought most humans were beneath them.
Pets, he regards us as pets.
The thought sent a rumble of irritation through him. He would never be someone's pet. But Shane tamped that down, it served him no good now, not if he wanted to get something out of this.
"So next I went to the local gendarmes, and they told me my children had been discovered, left for dead in an alley. Discarded like so much rubbish." His rich hypnotic voice cracked on those words and he took a large gulp of the half-full glass, choking a bit as it flowed down his throat, his eyes closed.
Shane noted distantly that Fae tears glowed slightly and didn't dry so much as turn into soft glittery dust that faded in a moment.
Fairy dust?
He pushed the thought away as irrelevant.
"My children, with holes in their arms and drained of their blood though they told me they had been examined their doctors," he sneered the word and the level of contempt made Shane blink.
Just what are healers in his world that he thinks so little of our doctors?
Rich had paused to take another swallow and he swayed a bit as he sat there. "Their doctors believed they had been held for a while, like livestock, to be milked of their blood." He leaned forward, his face bleak as he shoved his glass towards Shane, who obligingly filled it. "My children killed like my cook would kill a fowl. I will find and destroy those who hurt mine. I will do anything and make a bargain with anyone to bring their killers to their deaths."
Shane watched him drink, his mind racing furiously.
"I have no love for those who prey upon those weaker than themselves," he started. Something told him lying would be very bad this person. And besides, that was the truth. Those were either complete assholes or competition. "As such, I'd be willing to help you avenge your loved ones if you were to help me?"
Rich blinked at him a few times, apparently trying to focus. "Ah, and how could I help you? I know little of the human world. But I would pay much to have these monsters brought to the gates of their hell."
Shane shrugged. "I need nothing of the human world at this time. What I need to do is learn. You seem to be a magic user. I offer, if you train me, I will then go and bring justice to your children."
"You? You are a mage?" He looked down at the full glass and took a drink.
Hell at this rate I might need to get another bottle, he's almost finished off this bottle and its over a hundred proof and he's still coherent. Remind me to never get into a drinking contest with a Fae.
"I might be, but I suspect compared to you, my powers are but those of a child." Which also was the truth.
"Perhaps, but I am no great mage, but I have those in my employee. Yes, if you will bring those monsters to their deaths, I will ensure you are trained to the best of your ability."
"I would be willing to do that. Shall we draw up a contract?"
Rich belched a foul thing that had Shane leaning back and trying not to breathe. He looked around the bar and realized all that was left was a single bartender who very much didn't look their way.
"Contracts are for those who have no power. We shall do a geas."
A flicker of worry flashed through Shane. "And how shall we do that?"
Rich wavered in his seat and Shane thought maybe some water might be good about now. "Easily done." The Fae pulled
a knife from somewhere in a move that had Shane rocking back because he would have sworn there had been no place to store a knife where he pulled it from. "We cut our palms, share the blood, and swear the oath."
Thank the gods that don't exist that I didn't drink much. Think, think, how to word this? I'll figure out how to break my part later.
"Very well." He held his right hand out for the knife as his mind tried to get what he needed lined up. Words had never been his best skill, but now everything rode on him saying it just right. "What were their names?"
I'd better limit this to those specific descendants so he thinks I'm serious.
"Siobhan McLellan and Cardwellian McLellan. Siblings, the last of my line in this realm."
Oddly the note of the last of his line in this realm gave Shane hope that maybe this would work.
"In exchange for you having your people train me to the best of my ability, I will then find and eliminate any still living human that killed your descendants, Siobhan and Cardwellian." With a slight wince, he sliced a narrow cut on his palm, watching the blood ooze across his skin. He handed the knife back to Rich, trying to keep his face blank.
There that should keep me safe and prevent me from having to go after demons.
Shane barely breathed as he waited for Rich to agree to the words.
"So mote it be," Rioch declared as he slashed at his hand. A deep cut appeared across the palm that made Shane suck in a breath as blood began to flow. Before Shane could move, Rich grabbed Shane's palm and slapped their hands together. Powers sizzled down his arm and he cried out as colors he'd never seen before appeared before his eyes. "As I say, so it is." The last words seemed to echo in Shane's head and then everything went away.
4
Cast
Awareness seeped back into his brain sense by sense. He became aware of the sticky table under his face first, then the smell of sour vomit.
I barely had anything to drink.
The feeble protest in his mind broke off as pain like lances of lightning let him know his head didn't care. Moving with care, he pushed himself up and cracked open his eyes, sighing in a bit of relief as only a little light seeped into the slit between his eyelids. He sat in the booth and the Fae across from him began to stir.
Shane forced himself to turn his head and focus on the bar across the room. The pain was fading but not fast enough. No one stood there. As he turned his head he realized no one besides them were in the bar at all.
Blinking his eyes a few times he tried to focus on the Fae, and by the time he managed to see clearly the other had sat up and was rubbing his head. He waited until the Fae opened his eyes and saw him, he could tell by the narrowing of the eyes, before he spoke.
"So what exactly was all that?"
"Who are you?" Rich demanded, all trace of inebriation gone from his manner.
Shane put on a mock hurt look even as his mind scrambled to try to figure out what had happened.
"What? Rich, you don't remember the man you promised to train?"
All remnants of a jovial or mournful personality had disappeared and now Shane saw instead a lord, someone who commanded respect and people.
"And who exactly told you to call me Rich?"
Continue as you started.
"You did. In fact, you said Siobhan would have enjoyed that name."
A flicker of something flashed across his face and he sat back looking at Shane with new eyes. Then he clenched his fist and winced. His eyes widened, and he looked at his hand, then in a movement so fast Shane's eyes couldn't track, he grabbed Shane's hand and pulled it open, and stared at it. His eyes began to glow a bit.
Now that is a cool trick. I need to learn how to do that.
"Memories are coming back. Did we really do a geas regarding avenging the death of my children?" His voice low, cold, and very controlled.
"Well, that and you training me." Shane fought not to smile, sensing that might be very bad. After all the vow hadn't mentioned not killing him.
"Fine. Kill my children's killers and I'll train you." Rich slid out of the booth and stood, swaying a bit as he did so.
"Sorry, that isn't how it works. You train me first, then I find your children's killers." Shane fought not to look smug.
Rich stopped pivoted and tilted his head. Shane felt something tug in him and had to fight down the trickle of terror.
I just connected my existence to a Fae. Maybe I was drunker last night than I thought. No, they have the knowledge I need.
"So I see." Each word spaced out and Shane had no doubt that Rich was not happy with him at all.
Fuck, what was his name? I don't think calling him Rich is really going to win me any points. Think, what was it?
"Repeat the geas for me." The words came out as an order, and Shane didn't know if he could have refused.
Huh, well he could have asked.
But either way, Shane did, slowly and carefully, as even twisting one word might be seen as lying.
"In exchange for you having your people train me to the best of my ability, I will then find any still living that killed your children."
Rich stood there for a very long time. Long enough that Shane started to plan evasive maneuvers. "Very well, mageling." The way he said the word told Shane it wasn't a compliment, but he didn't care if he called him shit head. As long as he got the training he needed. "Gather your stuff and come with me."
"I'll need to grab some stuff from my hotel room."
Rich sneered but nodded. He pulled out a wallet, though Shane had no idea where he had kept it, and handed Shane a simple business card. It had an address and phone number on it. Nothing else. The card was dark green with gold lettering.
"Be at that address no later than noon tomorrow or I will assume you are reneging on the geas and let that be known. You will be trained." A slow cold smile spread across his face. "Let's see how much talent you actually have."
With that, he turned and strode towards the door. When he pushed it open, daylight filtered in and Shane pulled up his arm to stare at his watch.
Fuck, nine am? That vow sure knocked us for a fucking loop. But I better get my ass in gear before he finds some way to break that vow.
Shane looked around the empty bar, shrugged and tossed a twenty down on the table and headed out.
The next day, his duffel slung over his shoulder, Shane stood outside a nondescript building that looked for all the world like an apartment building about to fall apart, but not so far gone that anyone would try to tear it down.
The go-away urge flickered around him but the business card seemed to provide some counter agent to that. He'd have to study that more in depth at some point in time. Still, the building didn't seem like a place a Fae would live. Especially not someone of his apparent level of power. But, maybe he didn't know. Maybe this was just a gate into Faery?
Huh. Now that would be interesting. Maybe if they are actually taking me to Faery I could just stay there. Live out my life.
But the idea didn't feel right, he wanted his own world, a place where he'd be safe. Forever. And to do that he needed power. And he needed knowledge.
With a mental snarl Shane knocked on the door, making sure his inner turmoil did not cross over to how he approached the door.
Pretend you are a lowly 2nd Lt. and everyone is higher ranking than you and they are all out of uniform. That might keep your ass in one piece.
A minute passed, then another before the door opened. He hadn't heard anything. In fact, Shane had been about to knock again. A woman stood there, looking at him with a slight frown as if his existence puzzled her. He could tell she wasn't human, but he didn't know if she was Fae or something else. A bit too pretty, too strange, too something. Her eyes all but glowed in the shadow of the doorway and he couldn't stop looking at them to notice anything else.
"Yes?"
He started to answer in a smart ass manner, he hated waiting but reminded himself of what he had just thought not a few minutes earlier.
"Ma'am. I'm Shane Gris. I was instructed to be here for training in fulfillment of a geas?"
Damn, my mouth has gotten awfully smart lately. This might be a good place to keep it in control.
"Ah. You are the one Caedrich mentioned might be stopping by." Her head tilted and he realized she had no hair. How had he not noticed that? But her eyes pulled him back. He needed to see what color they were and realized he had started to lean forward, wanting to get closer.
With an internal growl, he yanked himself back up and stood there waiting.
A hint of a smile might have curved her lips as he forced himself to actually look at her and away from the eyes. Slim, a bit taller than him, almost androgynous, yet an aura of power and femininity surrounded her.
"You may survive after all. Enter." Her voice still had no inflection, that of a disinterested servant, but he couldn't imagine this woman as a servant. She stepped back from the door and held it open for him.
Hefting his duffel up on his shoulder he stepped through the door and felt his knees start to buckle as a sweet green magic washed through him. He forced his muscles to contract and managed to stay standing though he sagged a bit fighting through it. The room changed around him as he stood straight and he blinked in surprise.
At the first step, he'd gotten the impression of a dingy entryway into a hall, presumably where a bunch of apartments would then open into. Instead, a light airy room, decorated in greens, yellows, and touches of blue greeted him. He looked around at what appeared to be a receiving area. At the far end a pair of French doors blocked the way, though vibrant green glinted through the panes of glass.
"Am I understanding correctly that you will be staying with us?" She asked even as she walked further into the house.
Shane yanked his eyes away and took a double step to catch up with her. "Yes, I believe so. It might be more efficient that way."