Faery Realms: Ten Magical Titles: Multi-Author Bundle of Novels & Novellas

by Rachel Morgan

  “Are you sure?” Enorah whispered.

  I nodded. “When I was old enough to understand the terms of my geis, I made a deal with her: whatever she created to harm the Wildren, I was allowed to fight without any repercussions. Luckily, she is arrogant enough to think she’ll someday be able to create something that can both break through the magical boundary as well as get past me.”

  Enorah gave me a studied look. “So, how do you plan to destroy them? I don’t even know how many of them are out there.”

  “I do,” I said. “There are seventeen of them.”

  “How do you know that?”

  Because I saw the bodies of the seventeen Faelorehn she was able to capture and sacrifice to create them. Yes, I had managed to miss the actual ritual used to create them, but I had still witnessed the aftermath.

  “She told me,” I said instead.

  “How are you going to kill them?”

  I dropped my head, gazing at the ground. Hawthorn wood was the most effective way to kill the faelah.

  “I know a way, but I’ll need your help.”

  * * *

  The next morning Enorah, several of the older Wildren and I spread ourselves out along the edge of the Weald, our longbows fitted with hawthorn arrows and several more waiting in the quivers on our backs. Our plan was simple: we would scour the woods for nathadohr and take out as many as we could find.

  As we waited I thought about Meghan and our last meeting. After the Cumorrig attack I let a week pass before sending Fergus, as promised. I waited for her down in the swamp with as much patience as I could muster, all the while listening and looking for any more signs of stray faelah. Fergus and I had spent that week picking off the last of the duinba, but there was always a chance we’d missed one or two.

  Eventually, Fergus came trotting around the corner, Meghan’s tall, lean figure in tow. The sight of her made me catch my breath. It wasn’t so much that she was beautiful, but that the fae magic hidden within her radiated an unseen brilliance, a brilliance that brought every one of my senses to attention. There was no doubt in my mind that she was Otherworldly.

  Reluctantly, I’d left my hiding place behind and introduced myself. She was wary of me at first, but a burning curiosity shone in her eyes and I knew that if I was careful, I could keep her in my presence for just a bit longer. I tried to answer her questions to the best of my ability, but most of her memory of the Cumorrig attack was gone and in the end, despite my caution, I ended up frightening her anyway.

  Realizing that I was sinking fast, I had tried to catch her interest by listing off some characteristics the Faelorehn possessed: the gift to hear the spirits of the earth speaking into our minds, our tendency to have premonitions, our changeable eyes . . . She ended up running away, screaming at me to leave her alone. Fergus’s perceptive comments afterwards didn’t help improve my mood any. I had ruined this second attempt to make a connection with Meghan Elam. I was quickly running out of chances.

  I suppose I could just give up my efforts. It wasn’t as if Eile was devoid of young Faelorehn women, but there was just something about Meghan’s innocence that drew me to her. For years I had been able to convince myself that I was happy living on my own, being a loner, being Ehriad. I had depended on no one and no one had depended on me, and I preferred it that way. There were too many ghosts in my past for me to ever live the normal, happy life of an average Faelorehn man. The Morrigan pulled my strings most of the time, as if I was some mindless puppet, and my days consisted of hunting terrifying demons one wouldn’t want to meet in their worst nightmares. I had no time for friends, for family, for someone to share my life with.

  But Meghan made me reconsider those wonderful possibilities, though I hardly knew her. She made that old yearning, something I had thought I’d destroyed long ago, come back to life like the dying embers of a fire feasting on dry leaves.

  I closed my eyes and took a long, deep breath through my nose, picturing Meghan’s face: her long, dark brown hair curling down her back. Her beautiful eyes, pale hazel and wide with wonder. I squeezed my eyelids together. No Cade, not wonder, fear. That night you helped her she was afraid, and again when she met you of her own accord. I gritted my teeth. I may have completely ruined my last two encounters with Meghan Elam, but I was not ready to give up. When I was done with this job I would go back to the mortal world and find a way to talk to her, but this time I would do it right.

  “Cade!”

  My sister’s sharp hiss snapped me out of my daydream. I glanced up from where I stood behind some bushes to catch sight of her crouching on a tree limb several feet above the ground. She gestured towards the trail with her bow and I squinted my eyes. There, several feet down the path stood a nathadohr, its dark red skin, rough like a newt’s and the color of old blood, complimenting the beautiful autumn colors of the forest.

  The hideous thing was growling and appeared to be eating some small animal. The nathadohr’s teeth were pointed but blunt, and it flicked its long, barbed tail back and forth as it ate. About the size of a beagle and five times as long, the nathadohr shouldn’t be too hard to kill. Unfortunately, the muscles that bunched on its hindquarters and front legs suggested otherwise. This creature was very powerful.

  Attack?

  Fergus’s question surprised me. I had forgotten he was with us this morning.

  No, I sent, too dangerous. We’ll use arrows.

  Fergus growled in my mind.

  I don’t want that tail getting you. It has a long reach. Stay put and be ready to go for extra help if we need it.

  Fergus backed down and I took another deep breath, drawing the arrow back against my cheek. I took aim for the creature, between the ribs where the heart was. One moment passed and I released the arrow, striking the faelah exactly where I had intended. The thing shrieked in pain, but unlike most faelah that crashed to the ground in agony from the hawthorn wood, it turned and charged me. I froze and took note of the smoke, evidence that the wood was in fact working, then darted out of the way as it launched itself at me.

  “Cade! Move!”

  I threw myself to the ground and rolled as several more arrows sliced through the air. The creature shrieked again as the silent forest filled with the shouts of the Wildren.

  Slowly, I stood back up as the archers lowered themselves from trees or stepped out of the brush. Enorah landed next to me with a thud, a fresh arrow ready in her bow.

  We moved towards the nathadohr, careful to stay clear of its thrashing tail. Ten arrows protruded from its skin, the wounds smoking as the magic of the hawthorn destroyed it. The creature hissed as it slowly died and I cast Enorah a grim look.

  “It takes a lot more to kill them than I had previously thought.”

  She nodded solemnly.

  I huffed a breath and said, “Gather the arrows once it’s dead and head back to the village. We might need more help.”

  * * *

  For the next few days my sister and I and the twenty oldest Wildren combed the edges of the Weald, searching for nathadohr to kill. After destroying the first one, we learned it was safest if we kept to the trees. During the following week we eliminated thirteen more, but several of Enorah’s Wildren ended up with wounds from the tails and venom of the horrible monsters.

  The remaining faelah became harder to find and after a day of hunting with no sightings, I began to worry. I wouldn’t be surprised if the last three nathadohr had learned how to outsmart us. On the eighth day of our hunt, two small girls were attacked and severely wounded, but we could find no trace of the nathadohr. The girls slept for an entire day, but when they woke they informed us that the three creatures were working together. The memory of the Morrigan’s words to me from several weeks ago rose up in my mind like a dark pall of death. Perhaps she had finally found a way to make her faelah more intelligent after all . . .

  On the very next morning I woke up early with every intention of finding the monsters on my own. The fog was thick and the forest was
silent as Fergus and I left the village behind. Three nathadohr working together posed too much of a danger for Enorah’s young wards. Though the Wildren were very capable of defending themselves, they had not been trained as I had.

  “Where do you think you’re going?”

  I stopped in the middle of the trail and sighed.

  “Cade, are you leaving us? There are three more nathadohr out there somewhere.”

  I released a small sigh and turned to face my big sister, her stubborn face framed by her golden brown hair. For a moment she made me think of Meghan, though the two of them hardly had anything in common. I almost laughed out loud. I didn’t know Meghan well enough to know how much she had in common with my sister.

  “I’m not abandoning you. I’m going to kill the last three by myself.”

  Enorah strode forward, her bow in hand and her quiver hanging on her back. She looked ready to hunt despite the early hour and I wondered if she had known my intention to carry on alone.

  “No, you’re not,” she said, brushing past me at a brisk pace. She turned her head and said over her shoulder, “I’m going to help you.”

  I growled and jogged to catch up with her. “It’s too dangerous Enorah.”

  She snorted out a laugh. “Caedehn! Have you forgotten who I am?”

  Her smile was genuine, but there was sadness in her eyes. Her own past was as troubled as mine, but I shrugged my shoulders and moved to join her.

  “No, I guess not,” I murmured as we walked silently and briskly down the path.

  “Good. We’ll find these monsters together and killing them will take half the time it would if you were by yourself. I take it you have a plan?”

  I nodded. “Fergus, have you located them yet?”

  The white wolfhound stepped out onto the path in front of us like a ghost, pale and silent as the foggy air surrounding us. Half a mile away, in a cove, he sent. Sleeping off a late night hunt.

  “Perfect,” I said.

  “What?” Enorah asked.

  “Fergus will take us there.”

  Enorah quirked an eyebrow at me.

  I simply shrugged and smiled. “The perks of having a spirit guide.”

  She mumbled something about Faelorehn men and their magical sidekicks before picking up her pace.

  Several minutes later we came to a high point on the trail and Fergus trotted off into a small rocky crevasse to the left of us. Enorah and I followed, pushing aside thorn bushes and trying to make as little noise as possible.

  Fergus growled and I sent him a quick order to get away from the nathadohr. To my great relief he obeyed, loping past us to wait back on the trail.

  They are awake, he sent.

  “Get your arrows ready,” I told Enorah.

  She nodded and the both of us pulled a hawthorn arrow from our quivers and placed them in our bows.

  The nathadohr were prepared for our attack, bursting free of the cove like the demons they were. I managed to hit one with my arrow, but it ran past me, whipping its tail around my leg and jerking me to the ground. The spines cut through the fabric of my pants and dug into my skin, making me gasp. The creature was impossibly strong, dragging me several yards before it stopped. It felt like my leg was on fire, but eventually Enorah’s shouts of anger cut through the haze of pain.

  The monster that had dragged me screamed in agony as Enorah hit it with one arrow after another. Eventually its tail loosened and I struggled to get to my feet. I limped to Enorah’s side, pressing my back up against hers as we moved in an awkward circle, searching for the other two nathadohr.

  “Are you alright?” I hissed through my teeth, trying to ignore the ache in my leg.

  “Yeah, a tail grazed me, but it didn’t cut deep.”

  I nodded, but before I could say anything else another nathadohr burst free from the underbrush, charging us at full speed. It was headed straight for Enorah, so I whipped around, putting myself between the giant reptile and my sister. The nathadohr skidded to a stop, whipping its tail around and dragging the spikes against my abdomen. My shirt tore and the blow left a ragged cut across my stomach. I winced, but kept my arm steady, releasing an arrow and catching the creature in the eye. This time the faelah went down immediately, twitching as the hawthorn burned through its brain.

  Enorah cursed and punched me in the arm. “What is wrong with you!? Are you trying to die?”

  “No,” I gritted, my arm draped across the new wound, “just trying to protect my sis-”

  My words were cut short as the tail of the third nathadohr lashed out of the dense fog and managed to wrap around the forearm I wasn’t using to guard my injury.

  I shouted my anger as the tail tightened, cutting deeper into my arm than the other had done in my leg.

  Enorah cursed again, releasing an arrow and quickly going for another. The creature screamed and tightened its tail. I gasped as the barbs cut through flesh and muscle. The agony brought me to my knees.

  “Hang on Cade!” Enorah cried, her voice laced with panic as she kept decorating the nathadohr with arrows.

  The monster growled, fighting its imminent death as I fought the blackness that threatened to overwhelm me. Finally, after Enorah had used all her arrows and half of mine, the nathadohr loosened its grip and collapsed to the ground.

  When I was absolutely sure that the faelah was dead, I sat up and removed its tail from my arm. I grimaced when I saw the damage, more from its appearance than the pain. The bastard had cut almost all the way to the bone.

  “Cade!” Enorah whispered, falling to the ground next to me.

  “Are you hurt?” I asked, forgetting my injuries for the time being.

  She shook her head. “A few grazes here and there, but nothing serious.”

  She glanced at my arm and her eyes widened. “Oh no, we need to take care of this.”

  I nodded my agreement and Enorah helped me to my feet.

  It took us twice as long to get back to the village, since I was limping and she was trying to support my weight. When we arrived, several of the Wildren greeted us with a hot breakfast and clean water and herbs to take care of our wounds. We retold our tale over breakfast, and as the fires crackled around us and as the children listened intently, their eyes wide with awe, the pain of the ordeal seemed to lessen.

  Eventually I stood up, ready to leave the Weald behind and return to my castle. I was eager to get some rest and return to the mortal world. Now that the nightmare of dealing with the nathador was over, my thoughts concerning Meghan Elam had resurfaced. It had been a few weeks since she ran from me in the swamp, and it was time for me to try and patch things up between us. Again.

  “Cade, before you go,” Enorah called after me, reaching her arms behind her head and untying a string with a wooden bead attached to it. “Take this.”

  She tossed it to me and I caught it with my good arm. Arching a brow, I opened my hand and examined the wood. A symbol was burned into it, one that would cast a spell of protection over the person who wore it. I grinned.

  “A mistletoe charm? Are you worried about me, dear sister?”

  Enorah crossed her arms and snorted. “I’m always worried about you Cade. That’s what big sisters do.”

  I smiled, tucking the charm into a pocket.

  “I’m sure I’ll find a use for it,” I said, then grinned once more before leaving my sister and her woodland village behind.

  * * *

  Late morning’s broken sunlight shone through the diamond paned window of my room in Luathara, and it took me a few moments after waking up to gather my thoughts. I was in Eile, not my apartment in the mortal world, and Fergus was curled up on the carpet in front of the fireplace. Late autumn in the Otherworld always promised the kind of cold weather that seeped into your bones, and when I stayed in the castle I needed to keep a fire going at all times. Slowly, I sat up, wincing at the sharp pain in my head and the ache in my arm.

  Fergus heard me stirring and sat up abruptly, as if waking from some d
isturbing dream. He rose to his feet, stretched, then scooped up a piece of parchment that had been lying on the rug in front of him before walking over to me.

  “What’s this?” I asked, taking the note from his mouth.

  I was afraid to read it. It could be from Enorah, informing me that I hadn’t rounded up all the nasty faelah encroaching the village in the Weald. Or it could be from my foster father, once again wondering why I hadn’t visited lately. I could only explain I was too busy so many times. Or it could be from the Morrigan . . .

  It is from the mortal world, Fergus sent to me.

  I sucked in a breath and with shaking hands, unfolded the letter as quickly as possible. I blamed the tremor on my recent ordeal with the nathadohr, though to be honest, I’d admit it was a result of my anxiety. Before going to the Weald to help my sister with her faelah problem, I had left a note for Meghan, taping it to the sliding glass door of her room where she’d find it. I had wanted to offer my help without frightening her, but I was afraid my first, and second, impression had only made me look worse. So I had written to her, apologizing for everything that had gone wrong and encouraging her to learn what she could about the ancient Celts.

  I hoped the letter I held in my hand contained an extension of friendship; Meghan’s willingness to give me another chance. I snorted. Yeah, right. Sure, it’s what I hoped for, but I wasn’t usually that lucky.

  My eyes darted over the words, written in a neat, flowing female hand. I smiled warmly. From the little I’d learned from the Faelorehn girl, I could tell this writing reflected her personality well: a young woman with a lot of questions and fear floating around inside her head, but doing her best to remain cool and calm on the outside. My smile only widened when I finished reading it. She wanted to meet with me, after school on Tuesday, and she wanted my help with learning who she was. Maybe my luck was changing after all.

  I had no idea when she had left the note in the tree; Fergus must have checked for me while I was napping. It was early Sunday morning, two days before she wanted to meet. I strode over to my desk and took out a quill and some paper, writing a quick note and tucking it into Fergus’s collar.