Munro approached the crate and swept aside some of the straw. As soon as his hand touched the stone tablet, he felt a jolt of power.
Cridhe smiled at Munro’s reaction. “Impressive, isn’t it?”
It took Munro a moment to clear away the straw from the tablet’s surface. It was old. He could tell that easily enough by its appearance, but more than that, it had a strong and peculiar resonance. The tablet was something like the small objects he moulded with his hands, but the person who made it knew what he was doing and why. “This is druid made, isn’t it?” He ran his finger lightly over the surface, concerned that his own power might mar it.
“I really am most disappointed that you have to die. You’re much more clever than the others. And talent with stone is nearly as rare as fire. With you, I could create my own tablets, divine my own rituals.” Cridhe tilted his head to one side, as though lost in thought. “Your cousin tells me you have managed to create objects of power. Did Eilidh guide you in this?”
Munro didn’t want to give Cridhe any information about Eilidh or himself. He was under no illusion about how dangerous Cridhe was. He’d seen the bodies. On the other hand, if he could delay or distract him, that might be of some help. He only wished he had some way to warn Eilidh. He had his mobile, but he wasn’t sure Eilidh would even know how to answer the phone.
Munro met Cridhe’s eyes and shook his head. “She was as surprised as I was. Considering her situation, she doesn’t know a lot about druids.”
Cridhe looked Munro up and down as though evaluating whether Munro would try to deceive him. Munro couldn’t tell what Cridhe perceived, but the blood faerie moved on. “If only I had been successful with Craig Laughlin. Then you wouldn’t have to die. But as you can see, the rite demands a stone sacrifice.”
Munro couldn’t see, but he was not about to argue with the mad faerie. “If you don’t mind me asking, where are their hearts?”
Cridhe smiled. “Don’t worry. They are safe and beating strong.”
At that moment Cridhe’s power hit Munro full in the chest. It was like being kicked in the solar plexus by a horse. He fell backward, stunned and unable to speak.
“You won’t be alone. After tonight, I don’t think Frankie will be as willing as he has been in the past. So I think he’s the best choice for our water sacrifice.”
“And what of Laughlin? You failed with him; the heart was ruined. Are you certain that won’t happen again?”
Cridhe tilted his head thoughtfully. “You’re right. I should take Frankie first. If I fail with him, there are other water druids. Besides, you can’t die until I’m certain Eilidh is on her way.”
Munro felt sick at the thought of what was about to happen. He staggered to his feet and tried to lunge at Cridhe. The blood faerie easily deflected the stumbling attack.
“It’s time.”
Chapter 18
When Eilidh heard Munro’s car pull away, she signalled Beniss that it was time to go. As soon as she went out the front door, her senses were overcome with the smell of the Otherworld. Four kingdom fae stepped out of the shadows, led by Saor. Beniss hissed and moved into a defensive crouch.
“Peace, Beniss. We’re here to help,” Saor said. “The conclave agrees something must be done about the outcast.”
“All of the outcasts?” Eilidh said. “Are you here to do something about me too?” She could no longer hide her bitterness. The more she’d thought about it, the more it annoyed her that Saor had asked her to give up her magic. He wanted her to become a shell of herself so she could fit within his world and become acceptable to those around him. After only a few days of training and talking with Beniss, Eilidh realised that being acceptable wasn’t worth the price.
Judging by the anger on his face, Saor knew things were never going to be as he always thought they should be. “If you recall, Eilidh, it was you who requested our help.”
Beniss nodded to one of Munro’s neighbours, who had come out of his house and was openly staring at the group. Although the sky had grown darker, the soft leather clothing and piercing eyes of Saor and his companions, who did not have the ability to appear human, were attracting attention. “We should take this discussion inside.”
Eilidh looked sharply at Beniss. “But what of Munro?”
“Can you not feel him?”
“I can…” Eilidh could not explain why she felt uneasy. It could be that she and Munro had left things unfinished, or perhaps it was simply the uncertainty of what they were about to do. Her training sessions with Beniss made her realise how little she really knew. Sure, she could cast an illusion, but that didn’t always mean controlling and maintaining it. The blood faerie they were dealing with, Cridhe, obviously had decades if not centuries of experience. Beniss was old, and therefore her experience would be invaluable, but she admitted she did not relish the idea of challenging a blood faerie with a bonded druid. Truth be told, she’d been hoping for more from the conclave. Although Saor was a good warrior, he was nearly as young as she. Even with four companions, she feared they would not be any match for the blood faerie.
“Inside,” Beniss said firmly. “This is not the place.”
Eilidh felt a slight pressure inside her mind. It didn’t hurt, but it was enough to remind her that Beniss was her elder and deserved respect. Eilidh acquiesced with a slight inclination of her head. “As you wish.” She didn’t feel any better about the situation, but she needed Beniss if she had any hope of stopping Cridhe. She also recognised that Munro could take care of himself. Although she wanted to know what his cousin would report about Cridhe’s location and plans, if Munro trusted Frankie, then she must as well.
The six entered Munro’s house. Eilidh didn’t know Saor’s companions. They were young, perhaps even younger than Saor, and they seemed distinctly uncomfortable. Saor gestured to her ears and face. “I see you have mastered some illusion at least.” With an almost imperceptible sneer he added, “It suits you.” If she had not known him so well, she would not have realised how embittered he had become in such a short time. She steeled herself to ignore the slight. She’d made her choice, and she had to accept the consequences.
Beniss looked squarely at Saor. “What is the conclave’s plan?”
“Eilidh knows the most about the one we seek. It is generally agreed that she should help us find and eliminate the threat.” His tone indicated he was not one of those who agreed.
“Munro is going to lead us to him. He has discovered someone who is in the blood faerie’s inner circle. He has gone to meet with him now.” Eilidh could not resist showing Saor that a human would be the key to finding their target.
Although Saor had schooled his features, Eilidh could tell the remark hit home. “Then why are you here?”
“We were about to follow when the four of you showed up.”
“We will accompany you.” Saor’s tone left no room for argument.
Although Eilidh’s instinct said he should not come, the nagging worry for Munro’s safety told her pride was not worth it. She opened her mouth to reply when her connection with Munro disappeared. She grabbed Beniss’ arm and staggered slightly. “Beniss…” She used all of her newly developed magical senses to search, but it was as though he had never existed.
“What is wrong, child?”
“He’s gone.”
“What do you mean?” Beniss’ voice was sharp, and the illusion that held her pretty human face faltered for a moment.
The room spun slightly and Eilidh touched the arm of a chair to maintain her balance. “I don’t know what happened. I could feel him in my mind like always, but then he was just gone.” Panic tightened her chest and grief threatened to overwhelm her. “Is he…” Her voice trailed off. She couldn’t bring herself to think the worst.
Beniss put her hands on either side of Eilidh’s face. “Eilidh, gather yourself. Even though you did not complete the ritual, I believe you would know if he was dead. Something else is stopping you from being able to sense him.” The elder fa
erie’s expression softened. “Now you must complete the ritual. You must accept his bond. That should help you cut through whatever trickery has hidden him from you.”
Eilidh hesitated. Once she did this, there was no turning back. Faeries were not good at forever. It probably came from having long lives. Only the royals tended to mate for life, but their arrangements were more for political and social standing than for love or even the hope of producing children. But according to Beniss, the druid bond was permanent. Thanks to its power, Munro’s life span could be as long as hers.
She asked herself a question, because she had to. Was stopping the blood faerie worth jumping into a lifelong bond with a human she had just met? Yes, it would increase her power, but she tried not to consider that. She couldn’t treat Munro like merely a vessel. As she considered the deep loss she’d felt when she’d lost contact with him, Eilidh realised she was wasting time. “What do I have to do?”
Beniss patted Eilidh softly on the cheek. “Good. Most would search a lifetime to find someone willing and able to take the bond. Not every druid is compatible with every faerie. What Munro has agreed to must always be honoured.”
She continued to search Eilidh’s eyes, and Eilidh felt pressure in her mind, as though Beniss was searching her thoughts. She started to resist. “What are you doing?”
“Searching for the strand.”
Eilidh didn’t know what she meant, but now was not the time to argue. Beniss might look like a human teenager, but she was a fae of some power. Suddenly, Eilidh felt a sharp call in her mind.
“Good. You feel that. Now make your vow.”
At first, Eilidh didn’t know what to say, then she recalled what Munro had said to her in the woods—the phrase that initiated the ritual in the first place. Dem’ontar-che. Loyalty, faith, devotion. How he had known to say those words? It was magic far beyond her understanding, but the bond they were about to solidify must have reached them both on an instinctual level. Eilidh looked at Saor and could not help but silently speak words of regret.
Pushing that aside, Eilidh closed her eyes and thought of nothing but Quinton Munro. She pictured his face, let her nose take in the scent of him that still lingered in his house, let her ears echo with the sound of his voice, and felt his kiss on her lips. “Dem’ontar-che.” Eilidh expected a flash, a feeling of rightness, some magical display of lights or something. But nothing happened. She opened her eyes, looked at Beniss, and shook her head. “Is there something else I need to do?”
“Now, we wait.”
Saor huffed with impatience. “How long will this take?”
Beniss let her human facade melt away, and Saor saw the elder faerie’s true face. Her voice rolled like thunder. “Quiet, earth faerie. We’re not in the kingdom now.” To Eilidh she said, “Magic is not a machine. It takes as long as it takes.”
∞
“He’s going to kill us both,” Munro said to Frankie as Cridhe led him out of the building to meet the others.
“I know.” Frankie sounded resigned.
Munro’s anger burst out. “Why would you do this? I’m family.” He’d never felt so betrayed. “You could have talked to me. We would have helped you.”
“We?”
There was no reason for the other druids not to know about Eilidh now. Munro opened his mouth to answer, but before he could speak, a burning fire filled his throat. He could hear it crackle and taste the smoke. It took a moment for the pain to hit, but when it did, his whole world came undone. Frankie screwed his eyes shut as Munro screamed. He stood, clenching his fists by his side.
Munro held his hands around his own neck, unable to stop from crying out with the pain. He looked at his cousin and croaked, “Please. Help me.”
Frankie glanced around the old farm buildings where they stood. The place had been abandoned for some time, and there was not much of use lying around. Frankie spotted a stack of wood from busted-up fencing. He grabbed a board and rushed at Munro, striking him on the side of the head.
Munro sank to the ground. The last thing he saw as he drifted into unconsciousness was Cridhe smiling. “That should get my queen’s attention,” the mad faerie said. “Now as for you…” Munro heard no more. His last thought before he blacked out was that he hoped Eilidh had not felt any of it. If it meant she had been protected from the pain, he was grateful she hadn’t completed the ritual after all.
He drifted in and out for what felt like hours, but may have been just minutes. At least the fire in his throat had been quenched. He still felt pain, and he wasn’t sure he could speak. A scream, this time not his own, grabbed his attention. It was only then Munro realised he was lying on the ground and not in the same place where he’d lost consciousness. They were in a small clearing in the woods. A few feet away lay Frankie. Cridhe crouched over him, a vile, greasy incantation slipping from his mouth. Munro felt the ancient magic through his own clouded thoughts.
Frankie stopped screaming. From a gory cavity in his chest, Cridhe lifted out Frankie’s heart. Cridhe’s incantation ceased, and in the silence of the night, Munro clearly heard the thump-thumping of his cousin’s heart as it rested in the blood faerie’s hand.
“Come, Dudlach. Let us put Frankie in his place,” Cridhe said to the empty air. His eyes glistened with power and exertion. His once-grey face was now flushed with a rosy glow. Cridhe turned to Munro. “Don’t worry. We won’t be long.”
The blood faerie left, leaving Munro dazed and in pain. He struggled to rise, then only managed to stagger around. He tried not to stare at his cousin’s body, as he reeled in the opposite direction from the one Cridhe had gone. As soon as he reached the edge of the clearing, his body became weak, as though he was bleeding out, even though he didn’t have any serious cuts. His head screamed with pain, but there was only a small amount of blood. When Munro stepped closer to the centre of the clearing, the sensation passed. Munro cursed under his breath. Why had he not let Eilidh accompany him? He should have seen this coming. Although he wanted to believe he would have made different choices had he been in Frankie’s place, seeing Cridhe’s power and the ruthlessness with which he wielded it, Munro knew no human could stand against it.
He reached for his pocket, only to find his mobile was gone. A feeling of despair settled over him, and he could not help but look at Frankie’s face and the horror on his lifeless features. The same fate awaited him as soon as Cridhe got back, and he couldn’t do anything about it.
He closed his hand around the small carved stone in his pocket. Why did druids make these things? Did they hold power? Did they serve a purpose? He didn’t even know how they were crafted, much less what they were supposed to do, so how could he even think to use it?
Munro recalled that Beniss had said if they took out Cridhe’s bonded druid, the blood faerie would be much less powerful. He hoped Cridhe’s earlier ramblings meant his bonded druid was already dead, possibly the first victim, the one they’d found with the dead faerie. Could this be his stone? But who had the faerie been? And would this mean Cridhe was truly weaker? He didn’t seem weak to Munro.
Cridhe returned much sooner than Munro expected and saw that Munro was fully awake and walking around. He made a gesture with one blood-stained hand and Munro crumpled to the ground, unable to move or even struggle. “Now you can explain to me, druid, why my queen did not come running to your aid. No fae would turn her back on her bonded druid. The magic would not let them.”
Although it was a small and shallow victory, Munro felt a certain sense of triumph. He laughed even though the burns in his throat hurt. His voice came out in a horrific rasp. “There is no bond. I initiated, but she refused.”
Cridhe’s face contorted with anger. “That is not possible. What faerie would refuse a bonding when it means so much more power? She must come. I had it all planned. She will arrive and see me at the apex of my power. Once she has me, your death will seem but a minor inconvenience. She will be content to live in the glow of what the Krostach Ritual wil
l provide.”
Cridhe continued to mutter and pace. He took his attention away from Munro, and the bonds loosened, allowing Munro to relax his muscles. Lying there in the dirt, a sudden, cool relief began to spread through Munro’s throat. He couldn’t understand what was happening. Although it wouldn’t surprise him if Cridhe had the ability to heal him, he couldn’t imagine why he would. Munro began to feel stronger, sharper, and the despair and fear melted away. Then he recognised what had been missing since Frankie hit him on the head. Eilidh.
When Munro looked up, he found Cridhe watching him intently, a smile quirked on his face. “It appears she did not refuse after all.” Cridhe gazed north and whispered, “Hurry, my queen. I’m growing impatient.”
Chapter 19
Munro knew Eilidh had somehow completed the bond. Before, he’d felt her presence as a vague awareness. Now he saw her in his mind’s eye, and he knew she was coming. Her emotions swept over him, more than he would have thought her cool demeanour would allow. He’d thought her introspective and passionless, but now he knew she felt emotions intensely. She could likely feel him as well, and he wondered how she would judge him, if she would come to regret fusing her soul with his.
Thoughts drifted through his mind with a twinge of sorrow, because he understood what he would lose when he died. Still, the thoughts weren’t enough to distract him from the pulsing darkness around him. He felt singular dread as Cridhe came toward him, knowing Eilidh would be too late.
“She certainly is taking her time. I suppose it’s natural for her to be caught up in a new bonding. She really should have completed it some time ago. Poor planning, really.” Cridhe crouched over Munro. “It’s an honour for you to be the final sacrifice. Fitting. I shall consider it a tribute to my queen, that the sacrifice of her bonded druid will be the beginning of our reign.”
“Do you really think you’ll be so powerful that you can take on the kingdom fae alone? How many of them are there? Tens of thousands? Hundreds of thousands?” Munro didn’t know how realistic Cridhe’s plan was, but Beniss and Eilidh seemed to take the threat seriously. All he could hope to accomplish was to plant a seed of doubt. “What of the azuri fae at the Isle of Skye? What if they challenge you? Eilidh told me there were hundreds of them, maybe more. Even if the kingdom fae aren’t a threat, wouldn’t that many other azuri fae be a worry?” Munro felt desperate. He tried to think of anything that might make Cridhe take a moment to think. The more he could distract him, the better the chance Eilidh would arrive before things got any uglier.
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