“The Faery of Light was taken, was she?”
“Yes. Have seen her? Did she come through here?”
“They would not have brought her through here, lad. They have secret tunnels and passages, so they do. I ne’er go near them.” The gnome began to pace, nervously. “Aye. This is my first day, so it is. I wasn’t given instructions for this.”
Lochlan stated calmly, “You are going to let us pass. There, I have given you instructions. Good day to you.” Lochlan walked around the gnome doggedly, the owl/woman closely on his heels.
“Wait, wait,” the gnome called out. “Ye must go see the queen.”
“We’re not going to see the queen,” the owl/woman said rather insistently under her breath.
Of course, they weren’t. Lochlan wasn’t there to gallivant around Faery, making nice with the royals, and he doubted the queen would appreciate him being there without an invitation.
“Do you know where we’re going?” the owl/woman asked.
“We’re going through Guhl Woodland, over Voiceless Summit through Dark Grove until we get to Nevarf,” Lochlan said, his tone flat and remote. “I was told Shadowland is north of there on top of Dront Mountain.”
“And your plan is to, what? Plunder through Faery in the hopes no one sees you? The Unseelie will be hunting you. Do you know how many battles you’ll have to fight? It’ll take too long.”
“You have a better plan?”
“Of course I do.”
“Ah, and what kind of talents can you lend me? You plan to make me invisible like you then?” The very idea unsettled Lochlan, though he didn’t know why. Perhaps because he had felt invisible his whole life. Hidden away, a blight on the world. A stain on humanity.
As if the owl/woman knew what thoughts plagued his mind, she frowned. “No. But do try to trust me, if you can.”
Lochlan’s shoulders moved with a silent sigh. “You have yet to tell me your name.” His inquisitive eyes cut to hers. “What am I supposed to call you?”
Her lips curled upward. “What would you like to call me?”
He glared, shaking his head. His cape billowed around him in the warm breeze. “Pain in my arse.”
“Well, that’s quite a mouthful.”
Why was she so difficult? “Do you badger me for sport?”
“Badger means to harass, pester, nag.” She cocked her head to the side, fighting a smirk, wisps of golden and silvery hair blowing across her face. “Do I nag you?”
“Fine. Do you irritate me for sport?”
Her smirk broke free. “Sport would imply there is a challenge to be had. Irritating you seems rather easy. I would hardly call it a sport.”
Bloody hell. He wanted to strangle her. He clamped his mouth shut and counted off in his head. Anything to keep his frustration from besting him.
They walked a little further in stubborn silence when a thick mist moved in, darkening the wooded land. Lochlan and the owl/woman stopped abruptly when catlike creatures the size of dogs stepped out of the mist and stood on hind legs before them, shoulder to shoulder like a living wall.
“So, the rumor is true,” the creature in the middle said with a rumble in its voice. “We had hoped it was not.”
“Rumor?” Lochlan echoed, noting how the black-furred creatures were all long-limbed and thin-bodied with white spots across their chests. Agile in a fight he deduced, and Lochlan found himself angling his body to protect his companion.
“Can they see you?” he whispered, trying not to move his lips.
“No,” she whispered back.
“The rumor that the cursed son of Princess Kalia lives and is coming to save the Faery of Light.”
Kalia. Lochlan remembered the stories of his father, how he’d tried to keep his mother’s memory alive by telling him little things about her whenever he would visit. It was one of the few things he looked forward to as a child. Lochlan wanted to growl at the creature for uttering his mother’s name. It was sacred. He felt like someone had pinched his heart.
“Which part did you hope wasn’t true?” Lochlan bit out tersely. “That I live, or that I was coming to save–”
“My apologies,” the creature cut in with a paw in the air. “Allow me to rephrase. We had heard rumors the Faery of Light had been taken by the Unseelie. That part we had hoped wasn’t true. You being alive was simply unexpected and we believed unlikely.” The creature took stock of Lochlan like he was being vetted. “You appear strong and capable, but alone you are. You will need help.” He gestured to the other creatures. “We can be of service to you.”
“Cait Sidhe,” the owl/woman whispered to Lochlan. “They are a secretive Fae race, very rare, private creatures, and make temporary or personal alliances only. Caits hold no allegiance to either Court, although they would have a vested interest in the wellbeing of the Faery of Light and her safety.”
With his hands behind his back, Lochlan struck a casual pose, hoping to dispense his unease. “How could you help exactly?”
The one in the middle was obviously the leader since he was the only one to speak. “The queen has sent out her retinues in hopes of obtaining information about the rumor. I assure you the gnome will tell the queen of your arrival if she hasn’t already sensed your presence. We have retinues of our own, and what we have learned is that the queen is not keen on the idea of you being in Faery, regardless of the reason. We…” he gestured to the other three Caits, “…are of the mist. We can travel places no other Fae can go.”
“Can you get me inside Shadowland?”
“We travel the shadow roads.” The Cait Sidhe’s black lips kicked up, showing its teeth, all sharp points. “We can travel anywhere.”
A deep, prolonged howl sounded somewhere in the distance. The Caits’ ears twitched and their fur prickled. Feline eyes bore into Lochlan.
“If you want our help we must go, now.”
“What is that?” Lochlan asked.
“Cù-Sìth,” another deep howl reverberated, closer this time. “The queen’s Faery dogs. You are being hunted.” The mist thickened around them, creating a shroud of cover, and the gleam in the Cait Sidhe’s eyes began to look feral. “You must decide.”
Lochlan looked to his companion.
A half-smile pulled at her mouth.
“What?” Lochlan whispered impatiently.
“Now that you have been formally introduced to my better plan, we should hurry.”
He fought the irritation she stirred in him. “Ye gods, woman. You could have told me,” he murmured so only she could hear. “Very well,” he said to the Cait Sidhe. “Lead the way.”
Lochlan glanced over his shoulder. The owl/woman appeared perfectly well, save for her concerned expression. He mouthed to her, “I’ll be right back.”
She nodded and turned to find a rock on which to perch herself to wait.
Lochlan felt his companion to be safe since no one could see her. It only niggled at him slightly that he didn’t know why no one else could see her, but he would have to delve into the reason for that some other time because currently, he sat in stunned silence at the edge of a tiny lake.
It was only by chance they had stopped there when they had. The shadow roads were icy, airless swaths of nothingness, and after the third shadow road they’d taken, Lochlan had to beg off if only to right his equilibrium before taking another.
“I need a minute,” Lochlan had told them, holding his head in his hands, trying to stave off the feeling of nausea. He had spotted the lake and stumbled in its direction.
“Of course,” one of the Cait Sidhe said. “We should have mentioned the shadow roads might be disorienting if you’ve never traveled them.”
“It’s quite all right,” Lochlan managed to say, feeling green.
He had gone down to the bank to splash cool water on his face when Elin appeared. He’d thought he was hallucinating at first until he said her name and she responded. He’d fallen back on his haunches, unable to fully take in a breath of air at
his first real glimpse of her. There he remained, still staring at the still water long after she’d disappeared, only now all he saw was his own reflection.
He lowered his hood and moved a little closer. He wanted to see what Elin saw when she looked at him. Lochlan touched his cheeks, his jaw, and his lips. His pale skin was a startling contrast to his dark hair that fell haphazardly over his forehead. His eyes were…he blinked and moved closer. He likened his eyes to the color of what one might see on the inside of a seashell. He’d never really studied himself that closely before. Never needed to. Never cared.
“They’re beautiful.”
Lochlan startled and jerked himself away from his reflection. “What?”
“Your eyes,” the owl/woman said. “They’re quite beautiful. It’s ironic really.”
“What is?”
“Perhaps it isn’t ironic. Maybe it is symbolic.”
Frustration feathered over his frayed nerves. “What are you talking about?”
“Your eyes. They’re like pearls with the tiniest hint of green. White suggests purity. Green suggests hope. How appropriate is that? Here you are, a man who has never been touched, yet there is hope under the surface.” She gestured toward the water. “Was she well?”
He didn’t bother to ask how she knew. She seemed to know everything and nothing at the same time, all the time. He nodded, moving his hand over his breastbone, hoping to ease the rapid tattoo of his heart. “For now.”
“Talking to yourself?” One of the Cait Sidhe approached at a reluctant pace, as if he thought Lochlan was balmy on the crumpet. He certainly wouldn’t blame him if he thought him insane.
That familiar irritation that was becoming a constant companion, otherwise known as the owl/woman, gave Lochlan a beguiling grin while shrugging her shoulders.
Lochlan merely stared at her. He should find a way to out her if for no other reason than for being a thorn in his side and making him look a fool.
“Oh keep your hair on,” she said. “Riling you up is too easy.” She picked up her skirts and left him to his newest friend. Or foe. He wasn’t entirely sure yet.
Lochlan’s eyes slid to the Cait Sidhe and he gave him a magnanimous nod.
“My apologies for the intrusion. I was coming down to see if all was well with you. You’ve been sitting here a while.”
Helplessness was an emotion Lochlan detested, and yet he was feeling helpless quite regularly. Would he get to Elin and Searly in time? She’d told him to hurry and he had promised her he would, but would he be too late? Grinding his teeth together, he tried not to growl his answer.
“I am fine,” he said, coming to a stand, though he kept his eyes on the still water.
They had made it halfway through Faery rather quickly with the Cait Sidhe’s help. Without them and the shadow roads, it would have taken them much longer.
“Tabris,” the Cait Sidhe said.
“Pardon?”
“My name is Tabris.”
Lochlan turned to face him. “I’d shake your hand but…”
Tabris smiled. Maybe. It was difficult to tell with the face of a cat, though there was friendliness in his feline eyes. “I would shake yours, my prince.”
Lochlan lifted a brow at that. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“You are the son of a princess, are you not? The son of a king? I believe that makes you a prince.”
Lochlan laughed caustically, drawing the attention of the others who were hanging back, waiting. The owl/woman sat off to the side of the other Caits, watching Lochlan confer with Tabris with unwavering eyes.
“What I am is cursed,” Lochlan said with self-deprecation.
“Be that as it may,” Tabris went on, “you have royal blood from both sides of the realm. That sets you apart from all the rest. Not everyone in Faery shares the opinions of the Seelie Court, nor do we agree with what they did to you. It was a despicable act, cursing a babe in the womb such as they did. Despicable I say.”
“It matters little at this point.” Emptiness pressed upon Lochlan when he thought about how he would never…
He swallowed with difficulty. Fatigue settled over him, pulling at his eyelids until he felt the need to close them. “I need to find her, Tabris. My friend Searly is with her too. I pray we get to them in time.”
“We’ll find them. You have my word.”
The two said little else after that. An agreeable silence settled between them, heavy as a stone. There was an impending battle on the horizon and it hung in the air like a pungent odor. Lochlan returned his focus to the water, making one last quiet appeal for Elin to appear to him. When she did not, he pivoted on his heels and headed back toward the others.
“I’m ready now.”
Zeph had his fist poised to knock at Arwyn’s chamber door. He hadn’t spoken with her since the evening before when he had unceremoniously told her to leave. He had the night and most of the day to think of what he had to do, and now that the hour was nigh he longed to see Arwyn one last time. If only to tell her—
The door swung open and Zeph jumped back in surprise.
Arwyn’s eyes widened, her hand going to her breast as though she was trying to keep her heart steady. “Zeph, I wasn’t expecting…” She paused, her eyes taking in the whole of him. Realization flashed behind her blue irises. “You have never sought me out before.” Then her eyes began to shine and her chin quivered slightly. “Why have you come?”
Thick silence built between them because Zeph couldn’t find the words he’d wanted to say. He pressed his palm against his tabard and wondered if he had been given another life, one where if he hadn’t been ruined, if he and Arwyn could have been something. Why these thoughts plagued his mind now he couldn’t say. Perhaps death had a way of making saps out of men.
Pushing aside his reckless ruminations, he tried to answer nonchalantly. “I wanted to tell you goodbye.” He heard the quiver in his own voice and internally winced. So much for nonchalance.
“Where are you going?” she whispered.
To my death.
Though he couldn’t bring himself to tell her. However, he did manage to make one final demand of her. “I need you to promise me something, Arwyn.”
A tear slipped down her cheek. “No,” she said, shaking her head. “Don’t ask it of me. I cannot.”
Zeph took a step forward and cupped her cheek. “You don’t even know what it is.”
“I do. I had a vision. That’s where I was going, to find you. Zeph, don’t do this.”
“I have to.”
“No, please, don’t do this.”
“Why now? Hmm?” He stroked her cheek with his thumb. “What has changed about me? I am still the monster I always was, Arwyn.”
She wrenched her head to the side. “What you are is a fool.” A tear slid down her cheek.
“A right fool indeed.”
“Zeph…”
“Promise me that whatever happens this night, do not come out of your room.”
“No,” she said, bringing her hand up to cradle his. “No.”
“Yes,” he insisted. “Promise me this. If you ever cared about me at all, give me this one thing.”
“That’s not fair.”
“Perhaps not,” he whispered. “I’m asking anyway.”
“No. I will not. Why must you–”
He pressed his lips to hers, and for the tiniest, briefest moment, Zeph felt alive. Because for the tiniest, briefest moment, Arwyn had kissed him back. Until the sleeping potion on his lips took effect and Arwyn went limp in his arms. At first all Zeph could do was stare, taking in his fill of her, committing all of her to memory. He was surprised the potion had worked at all, a potion he’d created for her, knowing she wouldn’t comply with his request. He had wanted to give her the choice anyway. However, he had to ensure that Arwyn would live through the war he had begun, so he did the only thing he knew to do. Even if it meant when she woke, which would be soon, she would hate his very soul for stealing the one and onl
y kiss they would ever share.
“I’m sorry,” he said softly. “But I needed to save you one last time.” He laid her gently on the bed and stroked her cheek. “Don’t mourn me. I was never worth your tears.”
It was pathetic that the only way for Zeph to ever tell Arwyn the words he had longed to say was by making it so she would never hear them.
“If my heart hadn’t been so foul and I could have…I would have loved you.”
“Something is wrong,” Elin said worriedly.
Searly looked up from his books and saw the fear in her eyes. “What do you mean? What’s wrong, lass?”
She plucked Searly out of his seat like an insolent child, nearly dragging him across the library, out the door, and down one dimly lit corridor after the next. She kept peering over her shoulder with trepidation, as though someone might be following them. Rather insistently she asked, “Have you seen Arwyn?”
“No, not for some time.” Searly dug in his heels and refused to go another step. “Tell me what the matter is.”
“We have to find her. Searly, we…” Her eyes widened. “Do you hear that?”
Searly stilled and listened. “I don’t hear anything.”
“It’s a hum. Like a buzzing sound.”
He listened again, even closing his eyes to broaden his senses. Still, he heard nothing of the sort, though he felt an odd chill at his back. He turned, finding there was nothing there.
“You don’t hear it, but you feel it, don’t you?” She gripped his hand tighter. “We need to get out of here.”
Doors began to rattle, lanterns flickered, and eerie sounds echoed up and down the halls.
“Aye,” said Searly. This time he was the one dragging Elin along through twisted corridors until they made it outside. They were halfway across the courtyard when all the windows blew out, spraying them with glass. “Saints in Heaven,” Searly muttered. “What is happening?”
“I am happening,” a delicate voice said behind them.
Searly instinctively turned, pushing Elin behind him, shielding her with his body. A woman with raven hair and eyes black as night stood before them, wearing a long purple gown made of velvet and silk, embellished with lace and gems. She was utterly beautiful.
The Moon Shines Red (Heart of Darkness Book 1) Page 20