“Meg’s right. Without me, the best you can hope for is Queen Midna’s dungeons. I don’t like this any more than you, but we have no choice. We have to go through the human realm.”
The dungeons were the best she could hope for? Rori shuddered at the imagined horrors of what would be worse than becoming one of Midna’s legendary sex slaves. The rack? Isolation? Either choice meant she would be disgraced. Her family dishonored. And Cian—what would her brother think of her? Being exiled would break his heart, but if he ever found her in Midna’s dungeons…that might kill him.
Bollocks and shitshark sniffers. How the hell had she ended up in this predicament? Ever since she’d woken up in that cursed forest, her life was on a downward spiral without an end in sight. Well, fuck that. She hadn’t been trained to let life toss her willy-nilly. Thus far, she’d been reactive instead of proactive. It might get her exiled or worse, but Rori would be damned if she’d let circumstances dictate her fate.
8
Rori wrapped her arms around the leather bag and interlaced her fingers. Having the amulets close gave her hope. This was for something greater than herself. Whatever punishment she received would be worth it if she saved the other faeries’ lives. At least, that was the story she told herself.
Queen Eirlys was a fair and tolerant queen, but Rori had witnessed what happened to those who chose to ignore Faerie’s laws. If Midna’s sex dungeons were bad, Eirlys’ dungeons were worse—convicts were left isolated, with nothing but the clothes on their backs. Countless fae had perished beneath the Seelie queen’s palace without a passing thought from the courtiers who lived in the lavish rooms upstairs. Rori couldn’t dwell on the fact that many of those lost to the dungeons had been convicted on far less grievous crimes than the one she was about to commit.
For well over an hour, they walked with little conversation between them. Therron kept his head down, his long legs striking out at the dirt road as if it had personally insulted him. Each scuff and thud of his boot sounded off the tree trunks along the side of the road. There was a pattern to his stride, a cadence born from walking long distances often. Rori kept her face turned away from him but was able to take in his features well enough to see he, too, was perplexed by their mission.
“Have you ever been to the human realm?”
“No, and I’d be a happy man to say I never did.”
“It’s not so bad. Well, once you get used to the smells and sounds. They’re quite noisy, humans.”
A snarl came from between his lips.
“How can you hate them if you’ve never met one?”
“I didn’t say I’ve never met one. I said I’ve never been to their side.”
Intrigued, Rori shifted the leather bag to better see the elf. “You’ve met a human? What, here in Faerie?”
A slight shake of his head served as answer.
“If not here, where?”
Another snarl, followed by a grunt. If she wasn’t certain he was an elf, she’d think he’d been sired by an ogre, or a werewolf. As much as she wanted the answer, she sensed pushing him on the subject would do no good.
“How did you know a kiss would pull me from the enchantment?”
The smallest of smiles turned up the corners of his lips. “I didn’t.”
A flurry of warmth mixed with a million fluttering wings tickled the insides of her gut. “You risked taking liberties with me?”
The smile grew. “It worked, didn’t it?”
Damn him, but it did. Rori chose not to encourage his ego. Knowing him, he was at that moment congratulating himself on an amazing kiss. Ha! Hardly. Although, that was a complete lie. She could still feel his lips on hers, feel the roughness of his stubble against her cheek. Worst of all, she could recall the way he smelled that close. Like leather and clean laundry. Rough, yet soft.
She shut the memory of his kisses away and pounded the ground with her boots as she trudged up the path. Maybe if she got lucky, he’d get stuck in the human realm. Except, she really did need him to gain entry into Midna’s palace. Cocking spazz blenders. She was stuck with him.
“We’re almost to the passage. Stay close. I’d hate to lose you to the in-between.”
“The what?”
Rori’s laughter ricocheted off the trees. The look on Therron’s face almost made the trip worth it. “You look like you’ve swallowed sweaty goat’s balls.” She shifted the lockets to rest on her hip and took his hand as if he were a small child. “Don’t worry. I won’t let you get lost. I’ll protect you from those nasty humans.”
He kept his hand in hers, and she felt the thrum of magic beneath his skin. His control was admirable.
“I don’t hate humans. You assume an awful lot for being a spy.”
Her head whipped around amid a swirl of blue. “Why do you think I’m a spy? I work for Queen Eirlys in her—”
“I know exactly where you work, where you went to school, and why it’s important for you to impress your older brother. Who, by the way, is also a spy.”
Rori’s heart hammered beneath the soft spot in the back of her mouth. A slight twitch of her eye was the only thing to give away her irritation. With a reluctant smile, she nodded. “You work for Queen Midna. Of course you’d know about the MacNairs. What else did you uncover in your research?”
Therron raised their clasped hands to his lips—the hand she held to mock him—and kissed her fingertips. “I never said I researched you.”
She snatched her fingers away and rubbed her hand against her jeans. “You’re insufferable!”
“I’ve been called worse.”
Rori blew out a deep breath, upsetting a strand of hair as she did. It floated on the breeze a moment before settling across half her face. To her surprise, Therron reached over and tucked the strand behind her ear. It was an incredibly intimate thing to do, the second liberty he’d taken that day. Whether his intentions were sincere or not, she could do without the unbalancing his actions brought.
“Midna told me you and your brother were spies. She also told me I couldn’t trust you and that you’d turn me in to Queen Eirlys the moment you found out I was an elf.”
“Why would I do that?”
“Dunno. Midna seemed to think your Seelie queen has a thing against elves.”
They rounded a bend in the road and Rori stopped, her mind spinning. Should she risk exile for this elf? No, it wasn’t for him she was risking her life in Faerie. It was for the unfortunate fae trapped in the glass prisons she carried. For them, she would risk more than exile.
“Like I said, stay close and don’t do anything stupid. The doorway’s through there.” She lifted her chin to indicate a pub nestled among the trees.
“The Queen’s Horn. Are all of the passages from Faerie to the human realm in pubs?”
She thought of the doorway in the Shoogly Dragon and several others—all in pubs. Yet, they didn’t lead to other pubs, necessarily. This one, for instance, led to a tinker’s shop in Edinburgh’s Old Town.
“You know I can’t tell you that, so don’t bother asking anything else about the doorways or where they lead. Just stay close and don’t wander off. I’ll never find you otherwise.”
They made their way through the half-empty common room to a back storage area. Rori nodded a greeting to the barkeep on the way. He raised a brow at Therron, but said nothing. He knew better than to question her.
The cellar was a dark, dank place that smelled of centuries-old ale and piss. It was no different than any other pub she’d been to and Rori hated it. She wrinkled her nose and wove between broken casks to an unobtrusive-looking door at the end of a short hallway.
“Look away.”
“What?”
“Look away. I can’t let you see what I’m doing.”
Therron glared at her, then turned his back. It didn’t matter whether he watched or not—opening the portals was more a matter of saying the right words than anything else—but it gave her a sense of control to have him obey her requ
est. He’d been far too bold and she needed that sense of balance restored.
Her fingertips tapped along the center line of the door. The oak warmed to her touch. This was the part of traveling through the unknown she liked best—the thread of ancient power mixed with hers. In those few seconds, hope bloomed and she felt invincible.
The words she spoke came out fluid and melodic, more of a song than a spell. She kept her voice low, but had no doubt Therron’s elf ears heard every syllable. It didn’t matter. He could try to replicate the spell, could even tap along the frame the same as she, but if the doorway didn’t recognize him, it wouldn’t open. Eirlys herself had taken Rori to the castle’s portal and pressed Rori’s hand upon the metal knob, commanding it and all the portals in Faerie to allow Rori passage.
Which meant she had the ability to travel anywhere in Faerie, even to the Unseelie court, through these doorways. It also meant she could travel to anywhere in the human realm.
The doorway heaved with a creak and Therron half-turned toward it. “Can I look now?”
“Of course.” She placed her hand in his, ignoring the slight quickening of her pulse when their skin connected. “I was serious about not losing me. The void is infinite and who knows what horrors live there. I’d never find you once separated. This is a quick jump, so we shouldn’t be more than a minute in darkness.”
“If you say so.” His words came out nonchalant, but his grip tightened on hers.
They stepped through the doorway and were surrounded by stunning silence. The thick air choked her mouth, but she kept calm and breathed through the discomfort. Absolute blackness blotted out any light that might’ve come from the closing door and they stood, rooted to nothing. Rori kept the tinker’s shop firmly in her mind. Within the space of several heartbeats, the air thinned and a pale radiance emanated from electric lights. Rori stepped down as if on stairs, her boots landing upon hardwood planks. Therron’s entrance wasn’t as graceful, but he didn’t fall, something Rori begrudgingly admired.
“That wasn’t so awful.”
“If you say so.” Therron’s usually gruff voice was hoarser, his breathing labored.
“Maybe it’s worse for elves.”
He extricated his hand from hers and shook out his coat. “Where to now?”
“The castle.” Rori stepped gingerly through the back room to peek into the shop. The owner was nowhere to be seen and she mentally did the math to sort the time. Faerie and the human realm worked on opposites. If it was mid-afternoon in Faerie, it was early morning here. The shop wouldn’t be opened for several more hours. She led Therron to the front of the store and paused. “Do elves have Glamour?”
“Of course. Why?” His look of disgust intrigued her, but there wasn’t time to quiz him about his feelings on the matter.
“Use it, please. It confuses the cameras.” His brows dipped and she explained, “Pictures. The human realm loves their moving pictures. They call it CCTV and it captures everything. Our Glamour will show us as a blur, nothing more. It wouldn’t do to have pictures of us creeping around, now would it?”
“What about those things—they eat non-humans, what are they called?”
“Scyvers?” Her laughter rocked through the shop. “You believe that poppycock?” At the fierce glare he gave, she lowered her tone, adjusted her attitude. “They’re made-up stories our folks told to keep us kids from being too curious. I seriously doubt there are humans who hunt magical beings and suck out their power.” She hoped her tone conveyed conviction she herself didn’t have. The last thing they needed was a scyver on their trail.
Now more than ever she needed to make certain she used the bare minimum amount of magic. She’d seen firsthand the damage a wacked-out scyver could do, and she vowed to never put herself or anyone else in that kind of danger. The trapped fae would be like catnip to someone hungry for magic.
“I believe there are creatures some consider myth that are anything but.” Therron cautioned.
His words had the unsettling effect she guessed he’d intended. Instead of addressing his statement, she challenged him. “Are you afraid your Glamour might attract the wrong sort of human? I wouldn’t have pegged you for being a coward.”
He didn’t answer, but she saw a subtle sheen bloom beneath his skin. An opalescent translucency gave him an ethereal appearance. For the briefest of moments, his scar wavered like a winged creature, then vanished into his skin. Words left her mind as she stared, mesmerized. She swallowed hard, forcing herself not to reach out and touch his cheek. Why did elves have to be so damn alluring? She glanced at her hands, at the normal, non-shimmery skin, and sighed.
Before she did something she’d regret, like lick him from forehead to toenail, she touched the lock. It clicked open and Rori put a finger to her lips. She opened the door just enough to slip through. Therron, being larger than her slim body, shuffled between the door and frame with a grimace. He could’ve opened the door wider, but hadn’t, a fact that made Rori chuckle. At his glare, she silenced the laugh, a smile teasing her lips.
Few cars trundled up the cobblestoned street toward the castle, with even fewer people in sight. Stores lined the narrow lane, their windows crowded with trinkets and touristy knickknacks. Humans loved the little baubles they could buy from these stores. Many times she’d sat in a café, watching them toddle up and down the street, their bags growing larger with each shop they visited. What they found so enticing about the scarves and tartans, she couldn’t say. She only ever bought items of necessity. Daggers, for instance. Or sturdy boots. Who needed a glass dome filled with water and a figurine? Unless it could be used as a weapon, she had no need for such things.
Therron’s furtive looks inside each shop window were as entertaining as the tourists she would study. Every so often a shake of the head or narrowing of his eyes would give away his feelings, but other than those few expressions, he kept his opinions to himself. They made quick work of the distance, arriving to the little wooden police structure that marked the castle grounds in less than ten minutes. Here Therron failed to hide his awe, and she saw in his eyes a look of wonder, and perhaps horror. She doubted he’d ever seen a car or train or any of the modern necessities the human realm used without thought. Even the wires crossing above their heads would’ve been a wonder to Therron. If she’d told him those little lines carried with them the capability to light homes and provide a form of direct contact through telephones, he would’ve thought her mad.
The sadness Rori experienced each time she entered the human realm reasserted itself. Magic was all but dead there, and humans were to blame. She seriously doubted anyone would trade their lifestyle in Faerie for the human realm. As she studied Therron, she saw the world through his eyes and redoubled her commitment to get the trapped fae to her queen. Despite their modern trappings, the human realm was full of anger and war and death. Meg’s words echoed in her thoughts as they trudged up the last bit of hill toward the castle. If war was coming to Faerie, she’d do whatever possible to prevent it.
“Who lives here?” He stood with thumbs hooked into his coat pockets, surveying the bulky stone structure. As castles went, Edinburgh Castle wasn’t the prettiest, but then, it was built to defend the city and for hundreds of years had done a remarkable job.
“No queens or kings, if that’s what you mean. There’s a military presence still, but royalty haven’t lived here for a long time.”
“They do not appreciate beauty, these humans.”
“But they do. You are spoiled by what you see in Faerie. This castle, this city, is more than these stones.”
Rori strolled to the esplanade, a vast expanse of cobblestoned open space. Each summer, the entire city celebrated with fireworks and musical extravaganzas on the ancient stones. Rori had snuck in once and watched the pipers from beneath metal seats erected specially for the shows. Her heart had thrummed to the ferocious beat, her blood lusting for primal warfare. It had been a stunning moment for her, to listen to songs from her hom
eland played in the human realm. On this day, the cobblestones were empty of stands and pipers. The esplanade was nothing but a lonely carpark for tourists visiting the castle.
“This way.” She strode across the open area as if she belonged there.
He surveyed the esplanade, eyes wide. She saw the small shudder he tried to hide.
The area was empty, save for one lone lorry parked to the right. Rori continued to the gatehouse, not bothering to wait for Therron. She knew he’d follow close, but what she needed to do next she didn’t want him to see. Opening portals was one thing, but the thick wooden doors of the gatehouse always gave her trouble. It might’ve been from the iron workings attached, or an old protection spell cast upon them centuries earlier, but for whatever reason, it took a good amount of concentration for her to make them malleable.
She drew in a deep breath and focused her thoughts on the outer door. This one was the worst and took almost all of her energy. Before she even spoke the spell, the lock clicked and the door creaked open. Surprised, Rori searched the darkened entry for a worker or someone else who might’ve unlocked the door from the inside, but the entryway was empty. Finally, her gaze settled on Therron, whose face reflected her surprise.
“You did that?”
“Apparently.”
“How?”
“I’ve no idea, of that I promise you.”
Unnerved by the fact an elf could easily manipulate a doorway that always gave her trouble, Rori chose to ignore him and hurried to the next gate. Thankfully, the portcullis was open. No further physical barriers would prevent them from reaching their destination, but they’d have to avoid the guards and patrols.
Relics and Runes Anthology Page 36