Eilidh watched the druid closely. “I hope so.”
“It’s…well…I need to do something. Does he need a doctor?”
With a gentle touch to his wrist, Eilidh did her best to send calming energy to the druid’s mind. Influencing his mind wasn’t as easy with Douglas as it was with Munro, but his forehead relaxed, and his breathing became more even. Even still, he stole glances into the mirror frequently, and Eilidh knew he must have felt drawn to Tràth in more than just a casual way.
She considered what Douglas bonding with Tràth would mean. The other fae wouldn’t like it, but then, anyone not chosen would feel aggrieved. If Tràth had permanent problems with the stability of his mind and his magic, possibly he could force that instability onto Douglas. On the other hand, the druidic bond might soothe him and help him heal.
If Tràth didn’t survive, though, it would be better for everyone if Douglas didn’t bond with him. The bond could only be completed once in the lifetime of a druid or a faerie. It couldn’t be severed or transferred. She had no idea what the grief of losing a bonded faerie would do to a druid. As she pondered it, she considered what it would do to her to lose Munro. It was one thing to feel some friction, brought on by what she realised was mostly ego and misunderstandings. But the thought of losing him completely made her feel anxious and sick. If anything happened to him, she thought she might go mad.
The hours spent in the car made her queasy. She could have told Griogair she had to wait for her druid, then she and Munro could have run to Skye together. But when she had seen Tràth and his confused, helpless state, she’d worried about what might happen and acted without thinking.
Now, she sat in the rumbling machine and went through her focus exercises, practising breathing, mind expansion, touching the astral plane. As she let her mind go, her body relaxed. She lost awareness of the road and the smell of petrol and even of Griogair, Tràth, and Douglas. Her thoughts sought out Munro, and she caressed the connection between them, and felt the bond quiver in response. When she closed her eyes, she could see his dark blue eyes, glowing like the Otherworld moon. He was close, she realised, and moving faster than they were, and seemingly ahead of them. His car must have passed them either when they stopped so Douglas could buy more petrol, or another time, when Griogair insisted they pull over so he and Tràth could steady themselves. She understood the feeling. It did her good to stop moving for a little while as well.
When they finally crossed the road bridge to Skye, Eilidh began to shiver with anticipation. In the last few miles, she gave Douglas instructions to take them directly to Oron’s house. The druid could, she suggested, go back to Beniss’ house to get some sleep. Douglas nodded, but she could sense the agitation in his mind. Was this, she wondered, what Munro felt before they bonded? Their situation hadn’t been normal, but then, nothing about those who followed the Path of Stars had been normal for a thousand years.
When they pulled up in the drive, she felt her door open almost the instant the wheels stopped turning. She struggled with her seatbelt, and Munro leaned in and reached around her, snapping the plastic button to release her. He helped her to her feet, and suddenly his lips were on hers. “Don’t ever send me away again,” he whispered fiercely. He put his hands on either side of her face and looked into her eyes. “I love you, Eilidh. Promise me.”
She nodded and tried to look down, but he kept her face tilted up, forcing her to keep eye contact. “Say it!” Then with a softer tone he added, “please.”
Every part of him, from his heartbeat to their bond, throbbed, and she felt it all. He enveloped her in his presence. “I’m afraid of losing myself,” she said.
“I won’t let that happen. I give you my word. I don’t want you to be just a part of me, to get absorbed into some mind-meld thing. I want you to be a part of my life, every day. We’re connected, no doubt about that, but you’ll always be you, and I’ll always be me. I want us to do that together. I’m not going anyway, even if you try to get rid of me. I quit my job. I’m selling my house.” His mind raced.
She felt stronger in her power after their success in Auchterarder. Her confidence surged, so she wanted to try to send him a message. Delving into his mind, she thought, I promise.
His eyes opened wide, and he grinned. “Look at you,” he said.
She had done it. Warmth surged through her when she returned his smile and his kiss. Only then did she realise they were alone in front of Oron’s house. She wondered how much of their conversation had been overheard but didn’t care.
“Can you mind-speak with anyone else?” Munro asked.
“I wasn’t certain until just now I could do it with you. I’ve made attempts before, but I don’t think it ever worked. Let me try.” She focused her thoughts on Oron. It took a long moment of concentration, and she sweated with the effort of picking his out of the other minds she sensed in the astral plane. But once she recognised him, she knew without a doubt. We have returned. The crown prince is with us. He lives.
She couldn’t be certain Oron heard her, but she would know soon enough. Taking Munro’s hand, she led him into the house. The public areas of the house were silent, and no one seemed to be about. Eilidh tiptoed up to her room with Munro close behind, but they were intercepted outside the door by Alyssa, who was just exiting the bedroom.
“I’m sorry, Lady Eilidh,” she said. “I didn’t know what to do, so I gave Prince Tràth your room. His father said he needed to rest. And there are so many other guests with all those flooding in from the kingdom.”
Munro stood behind Eilidh. He slipped his arm around her waist and whispered into her ear, “What’s up with the lady stuff anyway?”
Eilidh gave him a playful elbow in the ribs. “It’s fine,” she said to Alyssa. “Is Prince Griogair with his son?”
“Yes, and the druid Douglas as well.”
“Douglas?” Munro asked Eilidh.
“I’ll explain later,” She didn’t want to discuss future bonding in front of anyone, much less Oron’s granddaughter, who was eyeing Munro strangely.
“Do you think—” Munro began.
“Later, druid,” Eilidh said in a mock-serious tone. “For now, we both need some food and rest too.”
Without a second glance at Alyssa, Munro tugged Eilidh downstairs by the hand. “Let’s find someplace we can be alone,” he said, kissing her ear and leading her to the back of the house. “There’s room at the druids’ house. Come over there with me.” He pulled her close.
“I should wait here for Oron,” she said, not really wanting to do anything of the kind. Munro’s kisses were so sensual, so passionate that it would have been easy for her to let herself go right there in the kitchen.
Munro swept her toward a wall and pushed her against it, his body pressing into hers. He kissed her neck roughly. “Then how about here?” He took her hands and pinned them over her head, leaving her defenceless. “I want you so much,” he whispered. He kissed her fiercely, and any pretence of resistance melted.
She savoured the feel of his body, his strength, even the rough stubble that scratched as he devoured her mouth. Then the front door of the house opened and shut several rooms away, and the moment was shattered.
Eilidh attempted to disentangle herself with some difficulty. “It’s Oron,” she said, breathless.
Munro sighed and let her go, but not before murmuring a low and husky, “Later, love.”
“Later.” She ran her fingers through her short white hair, then smoothed out her clothing. She quickly pulled down two cups and poured some cold berry juice for them both, and they sat at the table.
Oron walked in, his eyes gleaming. “Mind-speaking,” he said. “You’ve done it.”
Eilidh couldn’t suppress her smile, both because of Oron’s praise and her relief that he didn’t notice the heaving tension in the air.
“I wanted to come as soon as I heard your voice, but there was so much commotion with the conclave that I couldn’t break away. We have many
things to discuss,” he said. “First, how is the boy?”
That boy was a hundred and seventy-five years old, fifty years older than Eilidh herself, but she supposed to Oron, everyone seemed like a child. “I’m not sure,” she said. “He is alive, and I’ve done what I can to stabilise his mind, but he needs someone more experienced. I think, but I’m not sure, that Douglas may bond with him. They seem to have formed a connection of sorts already, and he’s up there now. I don’t know if that’s a good thing, if it will help the prince’s recovery or hinder it.”
Oron frowned. “Did you run into the rafta?”
“No.” She outlined what had happened in Auchterarder.
“Lady Eilidh,” Oron began, but Eilidh held up a hand and cut him off.
“Elder,” she interrupted. “Forgive me, but I must tell you. That lady stuff, as Munro calls it, was all a joke. Griogair was making light. I’m not nobility.”
“It’s too late,” Oron said. “The entire island is awash with the word that His Royal Highness has honoured you with a title of nobility. And it’s a good thing he has too.”
“What do you mean?” she asked, feeling slightly startled at the serious look on the conclave leader’s face.
“It may be war.” Oron’s expression grew dark. “The queen sent rafta here, through the gate at Fionn Lighe.”
“What?”
“Don’t worry, child. They didn’t make it through the enchantments.”
Munro spoke up. “I wouldn’t rely too heavily on them,” he said. “I felt Prince Griogair’s power struggling against them. I wondered if they might break.”
Oron nodded. “Any enchantment can be broken by enough will and knowledge. The rafta are dangerous for many reasons.”
Eilidh felt a chill. “But what does this have to do with me being nobility?” she asked.
“It was Munro who gave voice to the thought first, but the conclave is seriously considering making our own portal into the Halls of Mist.”
“What? Our own kingdom?” Eilidh was astonished. “No,” she said. “We must heal the rift, not make it deeper.” Her mind reeled at the thought of an azuri kingdom. They would be tiny in comparison to the others, but their abilities with the Path of Stars and its greater power over the Ways of Earth would compensate some, in the eyes of any who might challenge them.
“Queen Cadhla sent taunting messages with her assassins. She has made it clear she will not let us be. She will come after us until we are destroyed. We have two choices. We either raise our own banner, or we claim hers.”
“Remove Cadhla?” Eilidh struggled to take it all in.
“Either way, the Higher Conclave wants a queen. It is the only way we gain legitimacy in the Halls of Mist. Our people need that.” He took her hand. “Someone powerful, someone noble.” Then he added, “We need to talk to Prince Griogair. Call him, please milady.”
“I…” She felt completely frozen, her mind blank. She wanted to argue, but words failed to form. Eilidh just stared.
Munro stood and gave a slight bow to Oron. “I’ll get him.”
Chapter 17
Munro sat and listened as Oron told Griogair and Eilidh about the Higher Conclave’s discussions while they were away saving Tràth. Soon they were joined by one, then two, then three more elders. Then others who heard about the discussions also came in and surrounded the large oak table. Munro gave up his seat to the elder Galen and stood behind Eilidh, who still said nothing. He could feel her mind working, her incredulity, and stubborn refusal to accept what she was being told.
Queen Cadhla had all but declared outright war. Oron explained the only reason she hadn’t done it was that it would confer legitimacy on them. “Sennera brought other news,” he said.
“Who?” Eilidh asked blankly.
Munro leaned forward and whispered, “The earth faerie who brought Mira, Griogair’s bodyguard, to Skye.”
She nodded.
“Milady, your father is missing.”
Grief swelled in Eilidh’s thoughts, and Munro squeezed her shoulders. “Is he dead?”
“We don’t know, but we believe he’s simply gone into hiding. He’s not the only one. Many have been taken or disappeared. Families who sent their children into exile when they were discovered to have access to the Path of Stars have all been arrested. She’s trying to break us.”
“No,” Griogair said. “She’s trying to kill you, and every faerie who can cast the stars and every faerie who may have a drop of azuri talent in their family. Her obsession will lose her the support of the more tolerant and moderate members of the conclave and will worry even the nobles who once staunchly supported her. It was one thing to try and stifle magic most thought dangerous and corrupting. It’s another to harm the innocent. There is a growing outrage in the kingdom.”
“We have to stop her,” Eilidh said, looking at Griogair. “Can you help us?”
“I’ll do whatever I must.” To Oron he said, “I am at your disposal.”
“Thank you, Your Highness.” Oron looked around the kitchen to the other elders who had arrived and set his gaze on Eilidh. “I know this is a lot to take in, but we need a queen.”
“Me? But why me? I’m a student. I’m no one. Surely Galen or Juliesse or Qwe. They are all elders, more experienced, older, more regal.” She barked a laugh. “Look at me!” When no one answered, she whispered, “Griogair.”
The prince smiled sadly, as though he had sympathy for her confusion, but didn’t agree with her self-deprecating comments. “Yes, milady?”
“No.” Eilidh looked around the room. “I mean Griogair should be king. He’s ruled the Caledonian kingdom with Cadhla for how many hundreds of years? He was here before it was even called that, hundreds of years before I was even born. He knows what he’s doing. And most important, the kingdom fae would accept him. He could heal our people.” She turned to Oron. “Don’t you see?”
Oron rubbed his chin thoughtfully and looked at Griogair. “A king?”
“No,” Griogair said. “That’s not why I’m here. I didn’t come to rule you.”
One of the elder faeries Munro did not know said, “The Higher Conclave would not promote one of the Ways of Earth to rule those who follow the Path of Stars. As Lady Eilidh says, he has stood for hundreds of years beside Cadhla. We accept him on tolerance because of his son and because he is under threat from the same regime that cast each of us out. But how do we know he has not supported her all these years and only now joins us to save his own skin? We have compassion with his position, but it’s not what we want in a ruler.”
Griogair nodded. “I understand your scepticism.”
“But Griogair,” Eilidh said quietly. “The kingdom fae will never accept me as queen.”
“You don’t understand your own power. Why do you think Cadhla wanted to meet with you? Your popularity and influence were growing. Stories were being written about you. Songs and epic poems.”
Eilidh sat back in her chair and lightly touched Munro’s hand with her fingertips as she thought. “If I let them do this, if I let them create a throne for me or we take Cadhla’s, there will always be those who consider me nothing but a traitor. You, they know. They trust you.” She turned to the elder who had spoken up. “Please. There must be a way you can convince the conclave to accept Griogair as king.”
The elder tilted his head. “Not as king, but perhaps as a prince. It is a role they would not find threatening.”
Eilidh tapped the table in frustration. “He must be king, or we will not be able to claim our place in the Halls of Mist. A kingdom must have a ruling monarch. Even if we deposed Cadhla, with only a prince, we would quickly be consumed by one of the other larger kingdoms that sensed weakness. It’s only a title. Surely a king is as good as a prince.”
The elder chuckled. “Not only a prince, milady. A prince-consort.”
Munro got the elder’s meaning before Eilidh did, and he felt like he’d been punched in the gut.
She argued on. “
That doesn’t make any sense. Griogair can’t possibly go back to Cadhla. She’s planning to murder him.”
“Eilidh, he doesn’t mean as Cadhla’s consort, but as yours.”
She turned and rolled her eyes at Munro. “That’s ridiculous. That would mean…”
Griogair’s face was perfectly still, and Munro couldn’t read him. He could read Eilidh clearly though. If she was in turmoil before, she was a hurricane of emotion now.
Oron’s face brightened. “You’re so right, Conwrey. It’s the perfect solution. The azuri will accept her, and the kingdom fae will accept him. He will balance any question about her experience and nobility, and she will counter any argument about his loyalty to the exiles. The ceremony should take place as soon as possible. No, we must crown her first. She is queen first, then she takes a mate. This way there can be no question of his status.” The room burst into conversation, each of the elders speaking over the others. Munro had never seen the fae in such a state. It was as though Eilidh herself had been completely forgotten.
Azuri Fae - Urban Fantasy (Caledonia Fae) Page 17