The Lethe Stone (The Fae War Chronicles Book 4)

by Jocelyn Fox

  “I’m here now, ain’t I?” Duke drawled. “I think that means I kept that promise. Just like I’m gonna keep this one.”

  Ross took a deep breath and nodded. “Okay.” If she didn’t believe in sorcery and another world and magic, why was her heart hammering so hard in her chest that she felt its pulse in every fiber of her body?

  “Stay within sight of one another when we go out,” said Luca. “Ross, what exactly did you see?”

  “There was something moving near the road. It looked like a person, at least from the silhouette, I mean. But it moved wrong. Too graceful, too…predatory.”

  “If Tess and Kianryk had arrived here, they wouldn’t be slinking around in the shadows,” Duke said. He looked at Merrick. “Are there any more of your people in our world?”

  “There used to be.” Merrick looked uncertain. “But they were supposed to be dead long ago.”

  “Well,” said Duke, “looks like they ain’t so dead after all.” He grinned humorlessly. “Kinda like me. Seems to be a pattern around here.”

  “So what do we do?” Vivian asked. “If they’re like you, Merrick, will they pose a threat? Wouldn’t they be, I don’t know, happy to see you?”

  Merrick shook his head. “Precisely the opposite. They will most likely want revenge of the most gruesome sort.”

  Vivian looked at the front door with slightly wider eyes. “Right then. So…what do we do?”

  “Don’t let them take revenge,” replied Luca firmly. He looked at each of them in turn. “Ready?”

  “As I’ll ever be,” replied Ross. She saw the dagger shaking in Vivian’s hand, and she grabbed her friend’s shoulder with her left hand. “Hey,” she said in a quiet voice as Luca reached for the doorknob. “Stick with me, okay?”

  Vivian swallowed and nodded. “I feel like I want to throw up,” she whispered with a sheepish smile.

  “If you do, get it over with and move on,” Ross said. Vivian blinked and then nodded again. Luca opened the door, and they filed out into the weak light of dawn.

  Mayhem stuck close to Ross as they crossed the porch. She motioned to Duke that she’d take their six – the rearguard of their group. He nodded and took a position to the left and slightly behind Luca. Merrick fanned out to the right, creating a rough diamond shape. Ross grabbed Vivian’s shoulder again as she stumbled on the porch steps.

  “Sorry,” Vivian whispered, her eyes wide as saucers in the half-light.

  “Just focus on one step at a time. Thinking too much will make you feel more overwhelmed,” Ross advised quietly. “Stay to my left, right behind me. You can put your hand on my shoulder if you want. If I tell you to get down, get down and stay down.”

  Vivian nodded jerkily, her dagger gleaming in her hand.

  A slight breeze brought the scent of the river with it. The air was uncharacteristically cool thanks to the storm. Ross felt her skin prickle into goose bumps. After weeks of scalding heat and heavy humidity, the light chill in the air felt unnatural. She clamped down firmly on her imagination as her thoughts tried to run wild at every rustle of grass. But it wasn’t her imagination when the sounds of insects and birds slowly died into silence as they made their way across the front of the property toward the road. Every few steps, she turned to her right and scanned behind them, her gun pointed at the ground. Vivian jumped when a motorcycle rider sped down the main road, flashing by with a roar of his engine. But to her credit, she didn’t make a sound and recovered quickly. The light brightened with every passing moment, but even the light of the sun didn’t make Ross feel any better.

  They had covered about half the distance to the main road, walking slowly and purposefully in the strange silence, when the explosion erupted behind them. Ross shoved Vivian down as she whirled and took a knee, weapon automatically coming up to aim at the source of the explosion. A wave of heat washed over them and their ears rang as the roar of the detonation filled the air.

  “Son of a bitch!” Ross yelled as her truck crashed back down onto the driveway, fountains of flame pluming from its broken windows, oily black smoke roiling into the sky. But she didn’t have time to contemplate the demise of her beloved truck. Mayhem spun and snarled. Ross followed the dog’s gaze and saw that the three men were locked in struggle with two dark clad figures. Duke had already been knocked to the ground, though he was quickly regaining his feet. She scanned their surroundings and when she didn’t see any other immediate threats, she released Mayhem with a quick hand signal. “Go!”

  The dog shot through the grass, low to the ground and gaining speed as she selected the nearer figure attacking Merrick as her target. Ross blinked the spots from her vision and tried to clear the ringing in her ears with a shake of her head. Vivian still crouched next to her, but she sprang up when she saw the attackers. Ross grabbed her as she leapt forward, keeping her beside her with a firm grip.

  “We have to help them!” Vivian protested, raising her dagger.

  “If we rush in, we could distract them and someone could get hurt,” said Ross, but she felt a warm flash of pride in her friend’s bravery. They approached the brawl with measured strides. Vivian gave a little cry as she spied Merrick lying unmoving; Mayhem stood over him, teeth bared ferociously. That left Duke and Luca to grapple with their assailants. The one fighting Luca slid about like a specter, moving so quickly that the ulfdrengr couldn’t land anything more than a glancing blow. Duke’s attacker knocked him to the ground again with a long staff.

  “Oh, hell no,” growled Ross, sprinting forward. Vivian rushed to Merrick. Mayhem seemed to acknowledge that she had been relieved of her guard duty and rocketed forward to join Ross. Duke rolled away from the first blow of the staff but caught the second blow on his shoulder. Ross brought up the Glock, aimed at the attacker and pulled the trigger. The dark-clad figure jerked as Ross’s shot hit home, the dark hood obscuring its head falling away. Mayhem’s snarl rumbled through the shadows as the dog crouched by Ross’s side, coiled and ready to attack the stranger but awaiting Ross’s signal.

  Duke struggled to his feet as Ross stopped beside him, her gun still trained on the figure. The weak light revealed an otherworldly face dominated by striking azure eyes and silver hair.

  “Stay where you are or you’ll get another bullet,” Ross said commandingly. “And this time I won’t miss.”

  A wet patch stained the shoulder of the strange woman. She grinned. Her teeth were filed to points. The woman raised her staff again and Ross tensed, pressing the slack out of the trigger; but then the woman hissed.

  “Lay down your weapon, or he dies,” said Luca, holding the second attacker by the throat. The ulfdrengr didn’t strain at all as he lifted the struggling man bodily until the man’s feet kicked futilely in midair. He seemed more boy than man, from the look of his face.

  The silver-haired woman hissed again but lowered her staff. Her eyes blazing with hatred, she set her weapon on the ground and raised her empty hands.

  “Look at their faces,” whispered Vivian, kneeling beside Merrick. The skin of both the man and the woman bore layer upon layer of scars. Ross would have said that they looked like burn scars, but the skin wasn’t rippled and contorted. Different shades of white, gray and pink mottled their faces. She saw that the woman wore black gloves along with a strange mix of modern and old-fashioned clothes – a long-sleeved emerald tunic that billowed a bit, held in at the waist by a leather belt adorned with a rhinestone pattern, the long black cloak that had concealed her face with its hood, leggings similar to any in Ross or Vivian’s closet, and dark leather boots. A mix of stud and hoop earrings bristled from both the woman’s ears. Ross couldn’t see in the shadows if the woman’s ears were pointed.

  “Let him go,” said the woman to Luca.

  The ulfdrengr let the man’s feet touch the ground and loosened his grip slightly on his throat, enough that the man gasped and stopped fighting so desperately. Luca held up one of his axes in front of the man’s face warningly, and his captive’s struggl
es subsided.

  “You blew up my truck,” Ross said to the woman accusingly, gun still steadily aimed at her chest.

  The woman grinned. “Yes. It was rather spectacular, wasn’t it?” She spoke with a slight accent that Ross couldn’t place.

  Luca regained the woman’s attention by making the man choke as he tightened his hold again. “Why did you attack us?”

  “Because we are hungry,” said the woman simply. A chill crawled down Ross’s back as she combined that statement with the woman’s pointed teeth. “And we have not come across such a weak Unseelie knight in such a long time.” Her voice dropped almost to a purr as she glanced over at Merrick, who Vivian was helping to sit up. Vivian glared at her and raised her dagger.

  “I am not Unseelie,” said Merrick in a deceptively strong voice.

  The woman stared at him. “Aye, and I’m the Queen of England.” She burst into maniacal laughter, seemingly forgetting about the peril of her companion at Luca’s hands.

  Ross raised her eyebrows and looked at Duke. He rubbed his shoulder and shook his head slightly. He didn’t have any more of an idea about these strangers than she did. Merrick struggled to his feet, accepting Vivian’s offered hand. His eyes never left the silver-haired woman. “I am not Unseelie,” he repeated. “I am one of the Vyldgard.” He paused. “And you are two of the Exiled.”

  Chapter 24

  After sending Farin to wake Forin and Haze, Tess stood in the kitchenette of the abandoned trailer. The storm had finally abated, rain tapping only fitfully on the roof. Weak gray light filtered through the dirty glass of the window. Little curtains that had once been white but were now yellow with age and cigarette smoke hung limply on either side. A small animal had chewed a hole in the baseboard beneath the sink. Tess wondered idly if she’d been sharing her room with a nest of raccoons or possums for the night.

  Niall sat in an old wooden chair that faced the door of the trailer, his sword leaned within easy reach against the leg of the table. The Seelie knight stood respectfully when he saw Tess. “Did you sleep well, Tess? You look much improved from yesterday.”

  “Well, we all looked like drowned rats yesterday,” said Tess, “but thanks, and yes, I slept well.” She contemplated telling Niall about the taebramh, but decided against it. “I know I can always count on you for honesty, even if it’s unflattering.”

  Niall smiled slightly. Tess hadn’t yet gotten used to the unsettling paleness of his eyes washed of color when he gave part of his lifeforce along with Titania’s other Knights to keep their Queen alive.

  Jess appeared, resettling his ball cap onto his head and rubbing the five o’clock shadow on his jaw. “Morning,” he said to Tess, nodding to Niall.

  Tess’s stomach growled and she rummaged in her pack, producing some kajuk and bread. The dried meat, produced using traditional ulfdrengr methods, always made her think of Vell…and Luca. She chewed thoughtfully as Jess pushed aside the ratty curtains of the window over the kitchen sink, peering outside. Calliea pounded on the closed door at the end of the narrow hallway – Tess assumed that was where Molly and Ramel had ended up sleeping. She raised an eyebrow at the unceremonious summons. Calliea raised her chin slightly as she joined them by the little kitchen table, as if waiting for Tess to comment. Tess shook her head and finished her breakfast.

  “Good weather today,” commented Jess, letting the dingy curtain fall back into place as he leaned against the counter and crossed his arms over his chest.

  “Then we’d better find out which way to travel,” said Tess, brushing crumbs from the front of her shirt.

  Niall silently laid his scrying tools on the chipped tabletop: a protective cylindrical case about as long as Tess’s forearm, a circular case that reminded her of Merrick’s scrying compass, and a stick of the charcoal that looked similar to what Calliea had used to draw the runes on their arms. Tess surreptitiously pulled up the edge of her left sleeve; the rune had remarkably survived the journey through the portal and the torrential downpour, as well as her time asleep.

  Ramel and Molly joined them as Niall spread a map on the table. Jess held down one corner and he used the case to anchor the other side. Tess glanced at the map of Faeortalam – it was a detailed view of the Deadlands and the Dark Keep. She resisted the urge to ask exactly how a map of Faeortalam would be useful in the mortal world. If there was one thing she’d learned, it was that her questions were often answered even if she didn’t ask them aloud.

  While Niall prepared his other materials, sharpening the charcoal stick and unclasping the circular case, Tess looked at Ramel. He showed little interest in the proceedings, staring into the distance with blankness in his eyes that sent a chill through her. He still wore the dark breastplate, and his clothes seemed to be the same from the day before. Molly stood slightly behind him, glancing at the profile of his face every few moments with something like nervousness or perhaps even fear in her eyes. She seemed more subdued this morning but offered Calliea a manic grin when she caught the Valkyrie commander’s eye. Calliea pressed her lips together and looked away, a trace of disdain on her face.

  Niall drew a rune on each corner of the map and then made a complex gesture in the air over the table. Tess leaned forward slightly, watching in fascination as the detailed map disappeared, the parchment drinking up the ink. Niall laid a few blades of rain wet grass and sprinkled damp earth on the center of the map. Tess felt the air in the room tighten as Niall’s spell gathered force. She blinked. The grass and earth had certainly been real just a moment before – she’d seen them in Niall’s hand. But in an instant they had sunk into the blank parchment, becoming an incredibly realistic drawing. Then the map swallowed the inked blades of grass and scattered sprinkle of earth. Niall pricked his finger, pressed a bloody print into the center of the parchment, and from the center of his fingerprint a thin black line threaded out onto the blank expanse. It split into three, four, five and then ten little lines, drawing a detailed depiction of their trailer, and the trees dotting the landscape.

  “My blood allows it to center on our location,” said Niall, mostly for Tess’s benefit, she surmised, since she’d drawn in her breath in admiration at the rapidly growing map. Perhaps she’d study scrying when she returned to Faeortalam, she thought as she watched the image bloom across the blank parchment.

  “Handy,” commented Jess.

  Niall smiled. “Exceedingly.”

  “Parlor tricks are all well and good,” said Molly brightly, “but I haven’t seen anything that a child couldn’t produce with a few prompts.”

  “You’re welcome to try, my lady,” said Niall with cool courtesy. Tess glanced at Calliea – had she been able to talk to Niall about the situation with Molly and Ramel? Calliea nodded slightly.

  Molly, though, seemed not to hear Niall’s reply, her eyes darting to Ramel’s face. Tess glanced at her sword-teacher and caught his slight grimace. His eyes weren’t far away anymore and sweat curled the hair at his temples. She shifted her gaze and noticed that he gripped the hilt of the Brighbranr with white knuckles.

  “We don’t really need to be here for this, do we?” said Molly, her voice petulant now.

  “Keep scrying,” murmured Tess to Niall, turning toward Ramel and Molly. As much as she wanted to watch the captivating progress of the self-drawing map, a prickle of unease warned her that her instincts about the Unseelie emissaries took precedence. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Calliea quickly hand something to Niall – a locket of some sort? – before sliding around the edge of the table to stand by Tess.

  “If this doesn’t interest you, I’m sure you can find something to amuse yourself,” Tess said to Molly, putting a light layer of annoyance into her voice.

  Molly looked at Ramel again and Tess recognized the determined set of her jaw. Ramel stared down at the map. He took a step forward, closing the distance between him and the table. A faint scent of hot metal reached Tess, turning her stomach. Something twisted and surfaced in Ramel’s eyes,
an alien consciousness not his own. Mab. Tess felt her heart drop. She pushed away the memory of the ghosts in Emery’s gaze after she’d brought him back from death. Ramel wouldn’t end up like Emery. She wouldn’t let that happen.

  “What do you say? Shall we go amuse ourselves while the children play with their magic tricks?” Molly said to Ramel, sliding in front of him and running a hand through his hair. Despite the lascivious suggestion in her voice, Tess didn’t miss Molly’s tense shoulders or her slight hesitation before she touched Ramel.

  Ramel didn’t reply. The hand gripping the hilt of his sword shook with the intensity of his grasp. Calliea began to say something, stepping forward, but Ramel exploded, grabbing Molly by the shoulders and throwing her bodily down the narrow hallway. She crashed into the wall and fell. Ramel turned back to the map without a second glance, saying in a flat voice, “Interfering little wench.”

  Calliea crouched to leap at Ramel, but Tess shook her head sharply. She couldn’t afford for Calliea to be injured or worse in a fight with Ramel. Clearly he wasn’t in control, and she didn’t want to contemplate what his considerable strength could do with Mab at the reins. Jess pushed past Ramel, clearly not caring that he could incite violence by such a slight, walked down the hallway and helped Molly up, talking to her in a low voice. She seemed shaken but unharmed thanks to her Sidhe blood. Tess felt a wave of relief, then she refocused on Ramel. He had changed his stance so that he could see over her shoulder to the map. Tess moved to block his view. Calliea quickly understood her intent and shifted as well. They heard Niall murmuring behind them, his words accompanied by the soft clicks of adjusted gears and wheels on his scrying compass.

  Molly returned to the tense gathering, brushing dust from the side of her body that had careened against the wall. “Well, you could have just told me that you weren’t interested,” she said to Ramel with a too bright grin.

  Ramel ignored her and stepped toward the table. Calliea uncoiled her whip and Tess reached over her shoulder, gripping the hilt of the Caedbranr. She unsheathed just a sliver of the Sword, but that was enough to send a wave of power rolling through the room, making everyone except Jess stagger.