Yes. He knew. And Aby also knew he was just as blind. And in love. "Do we know who?"
The look on Illeië's face alarmed him. "We're not sure anymore, Abyssinian." She glided back to him. "There seems to be something we're not seeing, an element we didn't know was in play. Silira continued Oberon's work after he was arrested and has found something…"
When she didn't continue he struggled to sit up, but bent forward in reaction to the pain in his side. Illeië's healing touch was warm against his side and her hands were pushing him back down. "No…you can't do that just yet."
Aby was breathing hard when he rested on his back, and his vision blurred some as he blinked quickly. "How long…"
"Longer if you keep moving. Now," she sat on the edge of the bed with him. "You are protected here. Rhymer can't come into this area of my Sick House. He believes you are in the deep sleep of death. Let him keep thinking that."
"But I have to help Siobhan," he said but realized quickly there was no way he could stand. I feel so useless…how could I have let this happen?
"You didn't let it happen," someone said to his right. "The Rhymer has deceived us all."
He opened his eyes and looked over to see a tall, slender elf with dark auburn hair walking toward them. He could only assume she'd come through the arched doorways. But had she heard his thoughts?
He recognized her as the elf that freed him from Oberon's basement. "You…"
"Greetings, Prince. It is nice to see you awake."
As she neared him, he saw her eyes. They were the same color as his own. Indigo.
"Silira," Illeië moved around Abyssinian's bed to embrace her cousin. "You have news?"
Silira nodded.
"Silira," Abyssinian tried again to push himself up and failed.
The auburn haired UnSeleighe hurried to him. She had her hands on him as well and he heard her voice in his mind. You must not injure yourself any more, my prince. Please. I have news.
He had never spoken to a cousin in his mind before. He stared up at her with wide eyes. "How are you doing that?"
"Because we are of the same blood. I can't talk to Illeië this way," Silira said and then straightened. "To the both of you, Oberon sends his greetings. And to you," she looked at Aby. "He sends a warning to be careful. And to stay put."
"He always does that." And then his memory snapped in place. "That was you…in that dungeon. You were the one that gave me the draught."
Yes.
"And as for my brother—"
"He's very serious this time, Abyssinian," Silira said. "You are going to need to be strong to help him with The Rhymer."
"What about the Fallen?" Aby asked. "That seems to be the bigger problem here. It has to be destroyed."
"I agree. But I have just heard from the loyalists in Thom's guard." And Silira looked at both of them. "Apparently we were right on both counts—our people and a group of vampires are in collusion and responsible for the dead elves. Thom is working with the vampire leader and her own force." She took a deep breath. "And now the Rhymer has ordered our people to destroy the cairns."
Xe-Faun stared at the burning, hissing wreck of what had once been the main cairn between Underhill and the mortal realm. The adjoining point had been in San Francisco. It was the first on the list of cairns the Regent wanted destroyed in order to prevent the old enemy from entering Underhill.
He'd obeyed his orders and done his best.
But he felt…troubled. This was the oldest of the cairns, and the first established over a century ago. It felt…wrong…to destroy it. Xe-Faun understood the reason why. But wouldn't it be much more beneficial to go after this monster and kill it? By destroying the cairns, it was the same as leaving it trapped in the mortal realm.
And leaving the mortals trapped with it.
It seemed almost…cowardly. To do this. And he ached inside at what he'd done.
The next on his list was the one that took travelers to Oregon. And the next was in Chicago. There were others in the Rhymer's guard working on the lesser cairns, their power of magic not as strong as Xe-Faun's. This kind of work presented its own danger. If the cairn wasn't destroyed the right way, instead of closing it, the thing would open wider, and the magic that kept Underhill alive would dissipate faster as it was pulled into the larger mortal realm.
With a sigh, Xe-Faun turned and started the walk to the next cairn, his mind a jumble of troubled thoughts.
- 11 -
If there was one thing Keith Song never thought he'd see exiting the prison—besides seeing a vampire walking out into the sun—it was that day walking vampire accompanied by Oberon Geld as they walked out of the prison. The former Police Captain was still dressed in an orange jumper and white sneakers. Keith's jaw dropped even further as the two of them made a direct line for his car.
"Song!" Siobhan called out.
Just her saying his name was enough to make him react. He got out of the car and stood by the door. "What's going on? You knew I was here?"
"Of course I did. I need you to get Geld over to your place—unless the police are still there?" Siobhan paused as the tall elf moved around Keith's car to the passenger side.
"No..no they're gone," Keith watched Geld get in before he turned a panicked look to Siobhan. "What the hell did you do? You break him out?"
"Yes and no," she rubbed at the bridge of her nose before she shielded her eyes from the sun. "Just get him to your place and dressed. I'll be there in about an hour."
"Yes ma'am." He winced at the sound of his voice but got into the car. Siobhan turned and sprinted toward the line of motorcycles to her Ducati.
He cranked the Jaguar and backed up before he glanced over at Geld who was buckling himself in. "You want to fill me in?"
The rather intimidating elf fixed him in an emerald gaze. Keith was always amazed at the slit pupils the elves had. "You care to tell me why you're doing what Siobhan says? Last I remember of you—Keith Song right—you were more apt to expose her for some bloodsucker than do what she says."
Keith calmly drove the car from the parking lot and turned onto the expressway before he answered. "Let's just say…she saved my life."
"From a Fallen."
"Yeah."
"You've been ghouled."
"Yeah." Keith checked his rear view mirror. "You could say that."
To his surprise, Geld laughed. It was a pleasant sound. Deep and very melodic. As a reporter, Keith had been near the Captain on occasion when covering a story, but he'd never spoken directly to him. "Abyssinian is not gonna like that."
"Oh?" Keith didn't know what to think about Geld mentioning his younger brother. Especially in such a familial tone. "Why's that?"
"Because Aby's very possessive. And he doesn't like anyone getting in the way of what he wants." Geld shook his head and patted Keith's shoulder. "I'll go ahead and thank you now. Just in case I don't see you again."
Oh. Great.
"Are you insane?" Illeië's voice rose as high as the Great Hall's rafters. A pair of doves cooed in panic before they flew away through the open breezeways. "You can't close Underhill off, Thomas. If you do we will disappear."
"That's only a myth," Thom fired back. He hadn't expected the Healer to come to him here. She so rarely ventured away from her trees and her sacred springs. He'd already questioned her on how she knew of his intent to close the cairns but she'd avoided that question. "Underhill existed for a millennium before the cairns were built. And it will exist again."
But Illeië wasn't going to back down or go away. And truth be told, he had no real power to force her to do anything. She was the oldest of the elves in the High Court. And by right she held more of a position of power than he did. "You will not destroy the cairns, Thomas Rhymer. By doing that you will trap our people in the mortal realm."
"Those that are in the mortal realm are there by choice. Many of them haven't returned here in decades. I was charged by Titania to keep the realm safe."
"You were charged by Oberon�
��not Titania—to hold his rule until he returned."
He finally turned and faced her. "Why, Illeië? Why did the King find it so important to go to the Mortal Realm when his kingdom here needed him? What was so important there that he left his rule to me? I know about the Fallen, Illeië. I know he's there tracking one down. Why not ask for help?"
Illeië opened her mouth, but then closed it. "The reasons were his alone. And as king, it was his prerogative."
"Then as Regent this is my prerogative. I will protect this land—the cairns will be closed."
"With Oberon forever trapped in the Mortal Realm, Thomas?" Illeië's voice held a note of danger. "You really think the Elders will agree to this?"
"I will not be asking the Elders," Thom said. He took a menacing step toward the taller elf. "And if you continue to question me, I will have you removed to the Mortal Realm as well. I have the backing to do it. I would suggest if you don't want anything else to happen to your precious prince, you return to your place in the Court and stay there. Quietly."
Talking to her like that was a risk. He knew she had no military magic. Nothing she could strike with. Unlike Abyssinian's whose magic and sword were a force to be reckoned with. She wouldn't attack him here, in the Great Hall. But he needed her gone so when Xe-Faun returned he wouldn't see her and start to question Thom's actions.
Illeië stood up to her full height and her long white hair still ended at her fingertips. The silver filigree crown that encircled her forehead reflected the light of the sun as she turned and left him.
When he was sure she was gone, Thom half-collapsed against a nearby wall. Illeië was the gentlest of creatures and angering her was a risk. But he needed her preoccupied with Abyssinian. With the prince out of the way, and Oberon incarcerated in the mortal realm, he had the perfect opportunity to finally bring all travel between worlds to a halt.
And once he had all but one of the cairns destroyed, then he could control the single gate and perhaps offer sanctuary to the one who showed him where the second Winterbourne was hiding. Once he or she was in his hands, then the last cairn could be destroyed and the Fallen could never enter into Underhill.
His world would be safe.
It was a noble plan. And he felt Titania would have approved.
Abyssinian sensed Illeië's anger before he saw her. He was up on his own feet, dressed in soft white pants and a blood soaked bandage wrapped tightly around his chest. With one hand on the wall he was trying to walk—to force himself better. He'd had cold iron poison before. He glanced at the fading scar around his wrist where Oberon had held him in his basement by a single iron shackle.
Two weeks passed before he was completely free of the effects—something he'd not told Siobhan when he'd come to her aid. He'd been slowed by the wound and the poison when they'd been attacked in that blood bank, and hadn't really known if what he'd learned was true about his blood. What Oberon had said.
So when he'd fallen so easily by their attacker's magic, having her drink his blood was a fool's gamble.
And Oberon had been right.
He knew he was going to repeat the same mistake again. Too weak to fight, or even defend Siobhan. But she was in trouble—he could feel it. His dreams had told him.
"Abyssinian Geld!"
He winced when he heard her behind him. He continued to brace himself against the wall as he turned to see her glide toward him. And then she was beside him, her right shoulder under his left, her right arm around his waist, pressing hard against the wound.
Abyssinian moaned and saw stars as his knees gave and he went limp in her arms.
"You see," she hissed in his ear and ushered another attendant to help her drag him back to the bed. "You are too weak to leave. Too weak to fight. You have to stay here and recover."
"No…" he managed to say as he lay on his back and waited for the ceiling to stop spinning. "Illeië I can't…please…I have to go to her. She's in danger. If this Fallen goes after her…if it smells my blood on her…" he focused on Illeië. "Silira said she saw Siobhan at the jail when she spoke to Oberon. And it was daylight. That means she drank one of the vials of blood. And if that thing comes to her—"
The healer's eyes widened. "I had not thought of that prince. But it can't be helped. You can do nothing for her. And I've heard a lot about this Siobhan O'Donnell. I'm sure she can take care of herself."
"Not against this," and he reached out and took Illeië's hand. "Not this thing. Silira told me about it. It's not like anything she's ever encountered before. And it's not after her—it's after me—"
"Which is why you and Silira have to stay here in Underhill." She squeezed his hand and sat on the bed beside him. "Aby, it can't get to you. If it does, it breaks the curse—"
"I know that," he hissed and tried to sit up—only the pain in his side robbed him of strength again. Damn Thom and his twisted loyalties. "But I have magic, Illeië. Magic that's ten times more powerful in the mortal realm. Please…I have to protect her. At least let me bring her here—"
"But Aby she'll burn here!"
"Not if she drinks my blood," he said quickly. "We've tested it and four ounces of it can sustain her in daylight for up to eight hours. If she drinks more then the time is longer. At least let me get her out of danger as well—and then I promise to rest and recover."
"But…" she shook her head. "Even if I agreed to that—you can't even stand up. There's no way you can get to Siobhan in this condition."
"There's one way," he said and took a deep breath. "The vesta en' coia."
"No."
"Illeië—"
"No." She was on her feet. "I will not do that."
"But you're a healer—"
"That is not healing, Abyssinian," Illeië turned away and took several steps from his bed. "I don't know what you were told about that spell—about what it does—but it couldn't have been the truth if you're asking me to actually do it."
Abyssinian pushed himself up and managed to sit, though he clutched at his side. "I—I know it allows the caster to give some of their life energy to the cursed. That it will speed up the healing fo—"
"No."
"No? But I've seen it used," he held out his free hand. "And it worked."
"What you saw was only the external. The vesta en' coia does give over life, but it has a price, prince. Like all magic does. If I were to set this spell on you—I would give you enough energy to move and fight—"
Abyssinian opened his mouth to speak but she held up her hand and he sat back.
"—but only temporarily. And the would would still be there. It works like a tidal wave. My life force would wash over you and give you strength, but then that wave would return back to me, and it would take the exact same energy back," she held up her index and middle fingers. "Times two."
His eyes widened. No. He hadn't heard that part of the spell at all. "You mean it'll take back what it gave, and then that much more?"
"Yes. Don't you see? You'd be worse off after it was done. And I can't even tell you how long it would last. The spell is twisting—" she stopped and looked down.
"What? Please Illeië—it can't be much worse than that."
"It is. It's the reason the vesta en' coia was used in battle so often. A soldier could be dying and be cursed with the vesta en' coia—and they would rise and battle some more—but when the spell ended, if the soldier didn't have enough of their own energy left to give, it would take from the closest source."
"You mean," Abyssinian sat back, his hand on the edge of the cushioned bed. "It would take from the enemy the soldier is fighting as well?"
"Yes. It would diminish them. And the conjurer would grow that much stronger. No," she shook her head. "I won't do that, Abyssinian."
"I'll take the risk," he pleaded. "Please Illeië—I can't just lay here and not help her."
"What if you're beside her when it ends? What if it takes her?"
"Then I'll stay away from her."
She looked at h
im for a while before she finally answered, "Then it defeats the purpose of going and retrieving her. No. You will remain here. Safe. Just as Silira will. I will see about the Rhymer's foolishness with the cairns and I will stop him. Your vampire will be fine, Aby. And when it's all done, you can return to the mortal realm stronger."
And she was gone.
Abyssinian's shoulders slumped forward as he felt the will drain from him. He hated this—hated being weak. Just when Siobhan needed him more than ever. As if in defiance of the truth, he stood, started across the floor—but the sun streaming in the arched windows blurred and he fell to the ground.
He landed on his back and lay still, trying very hard not to lose consciousness as the iron poison continued to sap him of strength.
- 12 -
Siobhan arrived at Keith's house after an hour and was surprised to hear—
Laughter?
It looked like Keith had done a pretty good job cleaning up the place—even the bucket of his blood was gone. The furniture was new and still wrapped in brown paper but that didn't seem to stop Oberon and the new Ghoul from sitting on it, beers in hand, with bowls of high fat snacks littering a coffee table with the big screen tuned to some sport.
"Hey Siobhan," Oberon waved at her briefly and turned back to Keith. The elf lord had showered, coiffed his hair and was now dressed in a pressed white shirt, tight jeans and white socks.
He looked good.
"Hi boss lady," Keith said and jumped off the couch. "Is there anything I can get for you?"
"No," Siobhan said as she crossed to the large screen and unplugged it. It was easier than trying to find the remote. She turned and faced both of them. "This isn't a vacation. And Oberon you know they're going to come looking for you if they haven't already."
"You wiped their memories, right?" he said.
"Not all of them. I can't wipe the whole city." She rubbed at her forehead. "Guys—there's a freak'n monster lose in this city. And it's gunning for your brother. And it nearly killed you, Song. Aren't you two just a little interested in finding it and destroying?"
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