Relics and Runes Anthology

by Heather Marie Adkins

  When the stars blanketed the night sky, Meg called a halt to their makeshift apothecary. “I think we’ve got enough, don’t you?”

  “Are you expecting a battle?”

  Meg’s serene smile didn’t reach her eyes. “I like to be prepared. Best to get you inside, dear.”

  Delicious aromas wafted toward Rori and she didn’t argue. It was past time for another meal. Inside Rowan’s cottage were at least two dozen courtiers, Cian, and the queen. Chairs were shoved into every corner in an effort to fit everyone into the cramped space. Tug waved Rori over and she wove through the tightly packed room to her friend.

  He held out a plate of food for her and a flood of emotions washed over her, but mostly gratitude that he’d thought of her. Beneath that lingered worry for what would happen the following day. Deeper still, anger that it had come to this because of an enchantress with a penchant for kidnapping fae. She blinked back unwelcome tears and bent her head low over her plate. What was wrong with her? She never blubbed like a fool and yet her she was, hiding her tears. The food passed over her tongue and down her throat with barely any chewing. She doubted anyone cared about her manners in the crowded house. If they did, they could suck the nipples off a bridge troll. She was hungry.

  “Did you even taste Rowan’s cooking?”

  “Shut it, Cian.”

  “You keep saying that.” He wedged himself between Rori and Tug. “Hey, big guy. Anything new?”

  “Just ta stuff with Aurora is all.”

  “So, same as usual?”

  The men shared a laugh at Rori’s expense. She ignored them and finished her meal. When there was nothing left but a few crumbs, Tug took the plate from her and shuffled to the kitchen. A few minutes later, he returned with three plates piled high with sweets.

  “Who had time to make these?” Rori took a plate from him, her full belly protesting at the abundance of confections.

  “I did.” Midna glided into view, her gown now pale pink with hair to match, wings nowhere to be seen. “It relieves stress,” she added with a shrug. “Enjoy.”

  Cian put a finger under Rori’s chin to close her gaping mouth.

  “She’s full of surprises.” Her brother gave her an “I told you so” look and she snarled. “Finish up, then it’s to bed for you.”

  “What am I, five? I can take care of myself, you know.”

  He wrapped an arm around her and tilted his head to rest on hers. “Humor your big brother. You’ve been at the Academy and off on missions for so long, I hardly recognize you anymore.” He fluffed a strand of her hair. “I like the color. It suits you.”

  “Purple was my favorite,” Tug said between bites of his Victoria Sponge. “Queen bakes good.”

  “That she does,” Cian said with a little more inflection than Rori liked.

  “Are you in love with her?”

  “Isn’t everyone?” He indicated those in the room. “Just look at the way they watch her, as if one glance, one word from their queen would make their day.”

  “But she’s—” Rori stopped herself from saying “bad.” She tried to remember why everyone told her the Unseelie queen was untrustworthy and to watch herself, to never go there. Everyone knew the Seelie court was about light and gaiety and the Unseelie court was full of tricksters. These were the same “everyones” who said Midna’s palace was full of sex slaves, too.

  The truth was probably somewhere in the middle. Rori studied the queen. Eirlys was equally as dichotomous as the Unseelie queen. “She’s not all that bad,” Rori said at last. “I guess.”

  Cian nudged her shoulder and grinned at her like he’d done when they were kids. “Bad, good—it’s all relative. Come on.” He unfolded himself from the long bench and walked away from the others. She followed him without argument. Not because she wanted to, but out of respect. They trudged up the stairs to a long hallway with at least a dozen doors on either side. Rori blinked at the sight. Then blinked again.

  “Rowan is a wizard, you know.”

  “Right. I guess I’ve spent so much time in the human world I forget about magic.”

  “It’s probably just as well.” He opened a door for her. “Here you are.” He pointed to a change of clothes on the bed and then to a connecting door next to a wardrobe. “I’m just there. Don’t bother locking your door. I’ve been able to undo the best of locks since I was five.”

  Rori gave him a sugary smile and a half curtsey. “Of course, m’lord.”

  His chuckle followed him into his room and through the closed door. He’d always been an insufferable brat.

  Unable to sleep, she paced the small room until she was sure she’d worn a path in the floorboards. It couldn’t have been more than half past nine and she was wired from all the sugar. She tiptoed to the door separating her room from her brother’s and put an ear to the wood. A few times, she heard Cian clear his throat and after a minute or so, she heard a page turn. She glanced around her room for a book and didn’t see anything. Knowing him, he brought one with him.

  She leaned against the door and debated her choices. There was nothing for it—she needed to get out of this room if for no other reason than to think. Being cooped up made her brain sloshy and she hated it when things weren’t clear.

  Doing her best to not make any noise, with each step, she placed her boots gently upon the floorboard with a silent prayer they wouldn’t squeak. It would be just like her brother to request a room with a built-in escape detector. At the window, she stared out into the darkness, orienting herself from inside the cottage to the vale. In the distance, a soft glow came from the forest. It could’ve been a random campfire, but the insistent buzzing in Rori’s gut told her it was Acelyne’s. The enchantress was out there, waiting.

  Rori put a hand to the sash as if to push it open and paused. The fire snuffed out. Too quickly. The buzzing intensified and nausea teased the back of her throat. Something she ate, nothing more. Sweat slicked her palms and her fingertips tapped along the window frame. She’d never been afraid of the dark, not even as a small child, but this night she hesitated to open a bloody window.

  As she debated risk versus reward, a pair of shining lights came forward from the trees. Their size and intensity grew the closer they came until Rori saw they weren’t lights at all, but flaming daggers and they were headed right at her. She ducked a second before they crashed into the window. The glass held strong, but the daggers shattered as if made from ice.

  The door to Cian’s room burst open and he stood over her, his bare hands glowing. She’d never seen him use this much magic before and for an instant, she was mesmerized by the sight. Blue green flames danced upon his hands, with small tendrils licking up his forearms.

  “What happened?”

  “I don’t know. There were lights in the forest, then they flew at me.”

  Cian doused the lamps in her room with a single word and nudged her aside. She made room for him at the window, staying close but allowing him the bulk of the frame. He scanned the darkened landscape, his lips forming curses she barely heard.

  A thundering of footsteps came from the stairs and Rori groaned with the forthcoming onslaught of questions and attention. She turned toward his room.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Tell them you’re sleeping here and those were meant for you.” She jerked her chin toward the window. “Those were a test and she failed. Acelyne’s out there. She’s not going anywhere anytime soon and I’ve had enough excitement for a while.”

  Without waiting for his reply, she went into his room and crawled beneath the covers of his bed. She shoved a pillow over her head to drown out the voices coming from her room. If not for the guards, and queen, and her brother, and all the others downstairs who stood in her way, she would’ve been out of the cottage and into the forest to search for that she-demon. If she tried to leave, they’d try to stop her and she’d had enough of arguing for the time being. She knew their answers before she even spoke a word.

 
There was simply no way Cian would’ve let her leave the room knowing Acelyne had tried to attack her. And she was too tired to fight them all. Before she fell asleep, words drifted to her. Bait and trap, safety and protection, amulets and spells: all of them tangled around one name—Rori.

  When she woke, Cian was sprawled across a chair, an open book in his lap. She watched him for several minutes until he blinked and looked right at her. Rori held his gaze and he smiled in a lazy, sardonic kind of way.

  “Did you sleep well?”

  “Why do you keep asking me that?”

  “As you said, you’ve had an exciting few days.” He tilted his chin toward the window. “Queen Eirlys will be here in about an hour. You might want to freshen up.”

  Rori yawned and stretched, feeling the knots that formed in her back from a tense night of fitful rest. Beyond the curtains, a slip of cloudless blue sky could be seen. “What time is it?”

  “Past breakfast.” At her fallen face, he added, “Tug saved some for you.”

  “Guess there’s no time for a shower?”

  “There might be if Rowan had showers. I’m afraid it’s tub only here, and water needs to be brought up from the kitchen.”

  “How old-fashioned.”

  “Quite.”

  She pulled the duvet off and swung her feet to the side of the bed. The dark circles under Cian’s eyes had faded, and it looked as though he’d found time to shave.

  “Did you sleep well?”

  “I did, thank you.” He swatted his book at her. “Get some food in you. Today’s going to be tedious. Midna’s decided since both she and Eirlys are here, they should discuss more than Acelyne and the missing fae.”

  Rori didn’t like what he said, or his tone. Tedious was an understatement. Now Rori understood Meg’s insistence they make as many potions as they did. If either queen so desired, Faerie could find itself in the midst of a civil war. Only if one of the queens behaved uncivilly, of course.

  She tugged on her boots and shook out the last dregs of her braid. “Let me get cleaned up and I’ll head down for breakfast.” She stepped over Cian’s crossed legs and stopped in the doorway that separated their rooms. “What are you doing here?”

  Midna reclined in the small bed Rori should’ve slept in. Her cobalt hair closely matched Rori’s and she wore a black tunic. Alarm bells set off in Rori’s mind.

  Cian stood close behind her, a menacing presence. “She’s protecting you, Rori.”

  “Protecting me? From what?” But her eyes slid to the window where hours earlier, two daggers tried to break through the glass. “From Acelyne? Why? I don’t have the amulets anymore. Midna and Eirlys do.”

  “Acelyne doesn’t want just them, darling.” Midna slid gracefully from the bed, her tunic barely covering her legs. “You are what she seeks. We brought you here to lure her out.”

  “You used me as bait?” Rori spun around to confront her brother. “And you allowed this?”

  “Darling,” Midna purred, “it was his idea.”

  14

  A commotion outside the windows stole the precious minutes Rori needed to process what the Unseelie queen said. Shouts and cries from below drew their attention and as soon as Rori saw the crest of the Seelie queen, she raced from the room. Eirlys would help. She could explain to Eirlys why Midna was wrong. Acelyne had no interest in Rori aside from the fact she stole the amulets. Last night was nothing more than an attempt to frighten her, but it hadn’t. If anything, it added to Rori’s annoyance with the enchantress.

  Eirlys was just descending the short steps from her carriage when Rori burst through the side door and skidded to a stop a foot from her queen. “Your Majesty.” She dipped a clumsy curtsey and stepped to the queen’s side. “There’s been some confusion while we were waiting for you. Queen Midna is under the belief that Acelyne wants something from me. Can you please inform her that she’s mistaken?”

  Eirlys’ lips were almost colorless as they pressed into a thin line. “I asked Midna not to say anything to you.” She slapped her leather gloves against the side of the carriage and glared at the house. “Where is she?”

  “Wait. You knew? But I thought Acelyne would come because Faerie’s queens would be in the same place and she couldn’t resist such an opportunity.”

  “Oh, she would’ve come just for us, but you, my dear, you are the true treasure.”

  “I don’t understand.” And she didn’t. Not at all. But Eirlys was walking away from her toward the Unseelie queen and Rori was left, standing speechless, on her own.

  “If it means anything to you, I was against the idea.”

  Icicles dripped through her veins at the sound of Therron’s voice. “Did you know before or after we went to the Seelie court?”

  A look of contrition crossed his features. “After. But at Meg’s, I began to suspect Acelyne wanted more than just the amulets. Through her enchantments, I could feel her desperation. When you broke free, she lost something far more valuable than a lone fae.”

  “The princess was trapped with me.”

  Therron shook his head. “I don’t think it was Arianna. If it means anything, I did try to reason with Eirlys that the Seelie princess was the true prize.”

  “What means something to me is that you knew and you allowed me to be deceived. By you, by my queen, by my own brother.” Rage burned away the frost of her words. “I’m a spy, Therron. It’s my bloody job to know when deception is at hand. How the hell do you think this makes me look?”

  “Do you care so much what others think?”

  She did. Gods help her, she did. Spying was in her blood. It was her livelihood. If she couldn’t spy, what good was she? Instead of answering, she gave him her vilest glare and stormed off. To her right, the sounds of two queens greeting each other could be heard above the din of chatter both courts’ courtiers were making. Rori pivoted away from them, toward the forest. Her boots tore grass from its roots as she kicked at the green tufts. Damn them all.

  From a short distance away, she heard Esme call to her, but she ignored the stupid girl. Let her have that maiming shaft shiner and be miserable. Rori was done with them.

  Shadows fell across her shoulders as she passed beneath the trees. She breathed deeply of the scent. Dirt and loam filled her senses. At times, Rori thought she might be descended from elves. Her love of the forest was as great as any of Therron’s kin, she’d wager.

  Calm swept over her, soothing her fractured emotions, quieting her mind. Forests allowed her to think clearer than any other place. She trailed her fingertips along the bark of an ancient spruce. Within the trunk, she felt the tree’s life-force, its own special heartbeat.

  “Be well, old one.” She leaned her forehead against the scratchy surface and closed her eyes.

  “I never had you pegged for a tree hugger.”

  Rori’s insides trembled at the stranger’s words. Tree hugger was a human term and only someone who’d been to the human realm would know it. Or, they knew someone who traveled there frequently enough to pick up human colloquialisms. In her rage, she did the exact thing she should’ve been smart enough not to do—enter the forest alone. This day went from bad to worse and it was her own stupid fault.

  Rori opened her eyes and turned slowly, knowing before seeing who would be standing a few feet away. “Acelyne, I presume?”

  The enchantress gave a sassy bow. “The one and same.” She cocked her head and grinned. “You don’t recall anything, do you?”

  This close, Rori could see the faint shadow of a bruise beneath her right eye, and a long scratch across her throat. Acelyne’s deep brown eyes weren’t full of anger, but curiosity.

  “I admit, I don’t.”

  “Then my potion-making skills are getting better. You put up a fight, Aurora MacNair. But you were worth it.”

  A fight? Rori didn’t remember a fight, or anything else about the enchantress. “Why?”

  Acelyne moved closer and Rori gripped the dagger on her right hip. />
  “You won’t be needing those, dearest one.” Acelyne flicked her wrist and instantly Rori felt the need to let go of the dagger. A look of annoyance crossed Acelyne’s features when the dagger didn’t fly from Rori’s hand.

  She fought the illusionist mentally, firmly setting in her mind the thought that she needed both daggers more than she needed breath.

  “Ah. You’ve adapted and learned. It’s as I thought. You are perfect.”

  The sound of twigs breaking came from Rori’s flank, from where the queen’s carriages were moving out of the vale. She dared not look away from the enchantress, but her senses told her whoever it was that approached, they weren’t an ally.

  “Ah, Nelson.” Acelyne beckoned Dorchmeir to join her. “Just in time. You weren’t followed?”

  Dorchmeir clomped a path through the mosses and ferns to stand beside the enchantress, a look of profound pride upon his face. He shook his head. “They’re too busy with the queens, as you predicted.”

  Of course it was a trap and she’d played right into their hands. What part Therron played, Rori would soon find out. If he was involved, she’d slice his nutsack clean from his body. Something told her he wasn’t part of Acelyne’s schemes, but she’d made one error too many this morning and wasn’t about to make another.

  Mentally, she noted the location of each tree and the most convenient path out of the woods. On her own, she could easily take Dorchmeir, but if Acelyne used magic, it was an unfair fight.

  “You have your school chum to thank for your catpure.” Acelyne stroked Dorchmeir’s head as if he were a puppy. “I thought your brother would be better suited to our needs, but you—” She took a step toward Rori, the grin of a fanatic stretching her lips. “You are perfect.”

  Dorchmeir flinched at the last word, annoyance flickering through his pride.

  Rori didn’t have to ask why he’d help someone like the enchantress. He was no better than that bully at the well from when she was younger. “Still bitter about me kicking your ass at the Academy, Dorchmeir?”