Azuri Fae - Urban Fantasy (Caledonia Fae)

by India Drummond

  “Yes,” he replied.

  Eilidh closed her eyes, ignoring the protests of everyone around her. She sent the message out into the aether, projecting as far as she could. All come to Elder Oron’s immediately.

  “Who is working on the gates?” she asked.

  “Galen, Qwe, and Dalyna.”

  Eilidh focused on those three minds and instructed them one by one to hold the gates closed by any means necessary until they heard from her again. It frustrated her, being unable to hear any reply, but she hoped they would obey her command. They had to, if her plan had even one chance in a hundred of working.

  To Oron she said, “I must go outside the bubble with Griogair. Pull everyone in as tightly as you can, so we can be sure no one is left outside. They will be unable to defend themselves against the onslaught.”

  “I’m coming with you,” Munro said. “No arguments.”

  Eilidh paused, then sensing his resolve, relented. “All right, but when I tell you to hide, go to the forest and hide. They won’t be able to sense you because you’re human, so stay unseen until it’s time to bring Tràth back, and go when I order you to.”

  She could tell he didn’t like it, but finally he nodded. “Agreed.”

  Aaron offered, “You’ll need us too. We did play our part in locating him last time.”

  Eilidh shook her head. “I can’t spare you other druids. If you are caught, you’ll all be killed. Your lives are too important.”

  “And if we get stuck in that bubble, don’t forget, you’ll be the only azuri left,” Aaron countered. “You’ll need our help.”

  She sighed. “All right. Stay with Munro. Hide when he does.” To Tràth she said, “I’ll send you a message when we’re outside the bubble. How far do we need to go?”

  Tràth shrugged. “I don’t know. It changes, but it seems to get larger every time.”

  “Very well,” she said. “Far enough to be sure.”

  She sent a quick thought to Griogair, telling him where to meet them. She opened the door, and the house filled with faeries. “Cane, please help us get through this crowd.”

  “Yes, milady,” he said.

  “Go,” Oron said. “I’ll get everyone as close to the house as possible.”

  Cane led the way, gently asking people to step aside to let them pass. All eyes were on Eilidh, and she felt naked in a way she never had before. This had to work. She looked in their eyes and realised their lives were in her hands. If this plan failed, if she got trapped in the bubble, if she couldn’t retrieve Tràth, if he wasn’t strong enough to make another time shift, she would have made their entire population an easy target for Cadhla’s forces to surround and pick off.

  It frustrated her that the other druids couldn’t run fast, and she wondered if she’d been wise to bring them. If Douglas was killed, the grief would distract Tràth. At least, she mused, they hadn’t bonded yet.

  They met Griogair at a roadside layby a mile south of the village with nothing around. No houses, no cars, not a soul. Just a few sheep dotting the distant landscape, with mountains rising up beyond.

  She explained the plan to Griogair, whose face darkened more with every word. “You’re risking the life of my son,” he said. “He is not strong enough.”

  Eilidh took his hand. “If you are to be my mate and consort, you must trust me, Griogair. He is strong enough.” She sent waves of calm toward him, but his will was like iron, and she found his thoughts difficult to subdue.

  The druids remained awkwardly silent. She knew the humans, apart from Munro, wouldn’t understand her choice to take Griogair as her mate, but she had to bear that disapproval in silence along with the other burdens that rested on her shoulders.

  “I’m sending the signal to Tràth,” she explained, then directed a short message to the crown prince that said simply, Now.

  There was no sound, but as she looked north, she saw a blue flash in the sky. She breathed easier, praying the Mother of the Earth and the Father of the Azure would remember her people and look kindly on them.

  “Now what?” Aaron asked.

  “Now,” she said, turning to the druids. “You hide. Make your way back toward Oron’s house, but don’t approach it. Their trackers may sense something, so they’ll use every spell and enchantment they know to try to find our people. Locate a wooded area, a bridge to get under, a shed, whatever it takes, but stay unseen. Quinton, you most of all. You have been in the Otherworld and the queen knows your face, so we have to assume her people do too.”

  He drew her aside. “I don’t want you to go alone. I can keep up.”

  She shook her head, her heart tightening. “I could disguise you, but you could not pass for fae up close; your aura would feel wrong to them. I need you to protect the other druids. Make sure they stay safe until I call for you, and then get back to Oron’s together.” She paused, hoping he didn’t see her hands trembling. “No arguments.”

  She turned to Griogair, and as she looked at him, his face began to morph. She changed his clothing to look like the uniform of the queen’s guard. Once she finished, she used the same illusion to change her own clothing, then gave herself straight brown hair, a long, hooked nose and a sharp chin. While she’d completed the illusion, Munro left. His presence grew more distant as the druids made their way back toward the village.

  “What do you have in mind?” Griogair asked, touching his face in amazement. It seemed odd to hear his voice coming from a stranger’s body.

  “I send one last message, and then we wait.” Touching the three fae holding the Skye gate closed, she sent the message: Open the gates. Let them in. Confuse the minds of the first through, then disguise yourself among them. Hide.

  He watched her as they waited. Finally, she couldn’t take his scrutiny any longer. “I will get him back, just as I did before.”

  “That wasn’t what I was thinking,” he said. “I believe you will.”

  “What then?”

  “I was thinking that you will make a magnificent queen. I have decided what to give you as a gift on the day we make our pledge to one another.”

  “Help get the azuri back safely. That’s all I ask.” She felt uncomfortable out on the roadside alone with him. As the minutes stretched into an hour, the anticipation and feeling of pressing haste wore thin.

  “What’s taking so long?” she asked, but Griogair didn’t answer. “What if we can’t get them back?” Eilidh muttered to herself.

  “We will,” Griogair reassured her.

  Long minutes of waiting made Eilidh’s mind spin and whirl with thoughts of the future. “I worry you will regret becoming my mate when you see how truly incompetent, unqualified, irreverent, and unsuitable I am. You don’t know me at all.”

  “I became Cadhla’s mate the same day I met her. I’ve known you for what, a week? I consider this an improvement.” Then he added with a smile, “In many ways.”

  “Quinton said you two talked about an understanding.”

  “Not to be indelicate, milady, but it was a conversation between gentlemen. I will say this much. I may not fully understand those who follow the Path of Stars. The faeries here are as different from the kingdom ways as I could imagine. But I do know this much. I would be a fool to try to sever a heart-bond created by ancient magic. He will be tethered to you, mind, body and soul as long as he lives, and I know my mere charm couldn’t change that. Would I prefer that you loved me?” He shrugged. “What faerie wouldn’t want love? Sometimes I wonder if we’ve bred that capacity out of ourselves.” He tapped a rock, sending a tiny shiver into the earth. “I would consider it an honour just to have your respect.”

  Eilidh looked south, peering into the darkness, wondering when the queen’s assassins and soldiers would finally come. “You have that,” she said softly.

  The gentle winter breeze turned bitterly cold without warning. The soldier’s cloak whipped about his shoulders. “They’re through the gates,” he said.

  “We stay away from them a
s much as possible,” she said. “Do our best to blend in until they’re gone.” The kingdom fae would be able to sense hers and Griogair’s presence. She just hoped they could pass for kingdom fae and fade into background when they left.

  “We hide, yes. But if she’s here, I won’t let the opportunity pass.”

  “Cadhla?” The thought stunned Eilidh. “The queen won’t come here. She would never leave the Otherworld.”

  Griogair chuckled. “Oh, she’ll come for this.”

  “No,” Eilidh said. “We stick to the plan. We lay low until they are forced to leave empty-handed. Then we slip out once they’re gone and bring Tràth and the others back.”

  “Then what?”

  “Then we have some room to breathe and plan while she’s trying to figure out where we went. We will probably have to leave Skye as the elders suggested, but this way we go to a place of our choosing in the time of our choosing. It only gives us a slightly better chance, but consider this, how much will the confidence of the Watchers and rafta be shaken if we disappear under her nose? Some may wonder if we were ever here to begin with. Some may wonder if she is sane or if she’s leading them in circles.”

  Griogair said, “If I get my chance with her, I’m going to take it.”

  “I said no. We have a plan. We stick to it.”

  He smiled. “You aren’t my mate yet, so you can give me no commands, and I haven’t yet bended the knee.”

  “Faith,” she muttered.

  A smile broke out across his disguised face. “One of these days, I’ll have to break you of that. Queens don’t mutter oaths like Watchers on patrol.”

  Eilidh heard the gentle footfalls of thousands of approaching fae. The wind carried their scent, and the earth trembled as their magic rolled ahead of them.

  Chapter 20

  Griogair caught Eilidh’s attention and gestured north. She immediately recognised Oron and four others walking toward her. “Sun in the blessed sky,” she growled. “Does no one listen to me?” When she sensed Oron’s astral power begin to pulse, she sent him a message. It is Eilidh and Griogair. Do not attack. Every mind-speak message she sent took a little less focus and effort. It still felt strange, as she had to locate and touch each mind, but she was learning the way of it quickly.

  As the five approached, she watched them morph into rafta. Seeing the black uniforms made her shudder, even though they were friends behind their illusionary masks.

  When they finally arrived, one spoke. Eilidh immediately recognised Oron’s voice. “We will help spread a little confusion,” he said.

  “How many stayed outside the bubble?” she asked, not even trying to disguise the annoyance in her voice.

  “A dozen,” Oron replied. “The entire Higher Conclave. The same as the number of rafta they sent through the first time.”

  Griogair said, “Smart. Be careful, though. The rafta are a small, tightly knit group. They know each other well. Do not speak if you can avoid it and do not try to be too clever. I will help as I can, because I know them, so if you are near, watch me.”

  “This is too dangerous,” Eilidh said. “We were to hide and wait. The more of us there are, the greater the chance we will be discovered. The kingdom fae know we can change our appearance, so we must be cautious. We are too far outnumbered.”

  Oron tilted his head. She had trouble reading the unfamiliar face, so she wasn’t entirely sure he was agreeing to follow her command. It appeared being the future queen didn’t give her much influence.

  “Attack no one,” she added, seeing a formation of figures approach quickly from the distance. “Remember, the three elders from the gate will be disguised among them.”

  One of Oron’s company said, “We are not fools, milady.”

  Feeling chastised, Eilidh inclined her head. “Of course not. I am just concerned.”

  “We’re all concerned,” Oron said. To the others, he added, “Let them get close enough to see us, and then we fall back to the village and take the positions we agreed upon there.”

  “Where will you be?” Eilidh asked.

  “Hidden,” Oron said, “But this way they will see us and believe their rafta are alive. Report that we have not found what we came here for. We do not want to confront them, only confuse them. Our elemental weapons would not bear close scrutiny, since they are only illusions.” When the approaching force, led by running foot soldiers came close enough to see their features, Oron said, “Salute me.”

  Eilidh and Griogair turned and offered sharp salutes, thumping their fists over their hearts. Decades spent as a kingdom Watcher made her feel confident that she could pass for a soldier. Oron acknowledged the salute stiffly, looking every inch the elite guard he pretended to be. Then he and the others turned and ran north toward the village with unhurried, even strides.

  “I will have to be silent around the rafta and any of Cadhla’s home guard, lest they recognise my voice,” Griogair said.

  Eilidh nodded, watching as one of the oncoming host pulled ahead, running directly for her and Griogair, while the others slowed. “What is his name?” she asked.

  “Frene. He is wen-lei of the rafta. Be very careful.”

  When he got close enough to hear, Eilidh raised her voice. “Wen-lei,” she said. “The other rafta ordered us to wait for you.” She gestured ahead to Oron and the disguised elders’ retreating backs. “They have not yet located the prince and ask you to follow.”

  The tall rafta leader stopped and held up a hand, ordering the many hundreds behind him to follow suit. Eilidh couldn’t help but wonder how many more she could not yet see. The thought chilled her.

  “Prove yourselves,” he said, thrumming with power.

  Without hesitation, Griogair lifted a hand to the sky, and a lightning bolt shot through the air, followed a few seconds later by a clap of thunder. She gestured to the ground, where a small cyclone just four or five feet high formed. She flung her hand away from the group, and the twister followed in a meandering path.

  The wen-lei raised an eyebrow. “Not the agreed-upon signals, but sufficient to prove you are not tainted with the Path of Stars.”

  Eilidh shrugged, feigning indifference. “We were pulled off other duties and ordered here by the rafta. They did not inform us of the signs.” She opened her thoughts to the astral plane, feeling the minds all around her. As subtly as she could, she pushed the wen-lei a sense of urgency. She was afraid to try for too much or to persuade him of anything he didn’t already intend. The rafta were already suspicious of everyone.

  Turning toward the village, the wen-lei signalled the host behind him. To Eilidh and Griogair, he said, “Fall in.”

  The pair saluted in unison and waited until more than a hundred kingdom fae had passed before doing their best to melt into the ranks.

  They moved silently and with purpose, and Eilidh could not help but feel saddened that the kingdom was marching on the azuri. What could the queen have told them to make them believe this was right? Only weeks ago Eilidh had travelled the Otherworld freely, laughing with old friends, visiting her father. Her heart tightened as she thought of her father, and she worked to calm her feelings, to set them aside as Oron had taught her. This wasn’t the time for worry or grief.

  As they approached the village, she looked around for Griogair, but he’d faded into the crowd. She hoped he didn’t go too far, because she wasn’t sure how distance would affect his false appearance created by her illusion. It annoyed her that he refused to stick to the plan. If he cost them even one life, kingdom or azuri, she would hold him to account. He said he wanted her respect, but she wasn’t certain she had his.

  She followed along with a unit that went from house to house in the village, having been ordered to take a certain cluster as part of the search. She stayed silent, kept her head down, and did not even dare to cast one enchantment.

  Finding every house abandoned, the various groups gathered at the village green, while others set up patrols. Eilidh spotted Griogair’s d
isguised face. He talked with a small knot of senior soldiers. What are you doing? she sent to him. He glanced up and gave a subtle nod in her direction. Infuriated that he could not answer telepathically and that she could not walk up and demand a reply, she looked around, hoping to find Oron and the others who’d stayed outside the bubble or even the elders who’d held the gate, but she recognised no one. She tried to move between groups, not staying with any contingent too long, lest someone realise they didn’t know her.

  “How can they stand this?” she heard one elemental archer ask a companion.

  “Faith, I do not know,” replied the other, clearly feeling disturbed.