The Earl's Childe

by T. J. Wooldridge

  Ermie fell to his front knees, and then to his side, a gaping wound bleeding at his ribs.

  “No! Ermie, no!”

  Your soul is safe. Your sacrifice ensured that.

  “What are you talking about?” I got down on my knees and shoved at his chest. “Get up! Get up!”

  Foolish…precious girl. Will you begrudge me calling you that even now?

  “Ermie! No! Get up!” I cried. Tears blurred my vision.

  His chest heaved and I heard gurgling with each of his gasps. He moved his muzzle. No glamour hid the angular jaw or the shark teeth, but I didn’t care. I knew what he was feeling. I’d felt it. And it was awful! Horrible!

  It wasn’t fair!

  “Tony!” I screamed to the djinni, wherever he was. “Tony! Fix him like you did before! Like you did Stormy and Livy! He’s still alive!”

  He appeared not far from me, a step or two closer than the circle of people around us. His hand was on Joe’s chest, holding him back. There were tears running down Joe’s face. This was the second time I’d ever seen him cry.

  Tony spoke to me, eyes on Ehrwnmyr. “This was his choice, Heather. I can’t unmake it for him. This kind of power must be a trade, and it can’t be undone.”

  “No!” I screamed again. I wanted to get up and punch the djinni. But Ermie gasped in my lap. I wouldn’t leave him alone for this. “No,” I whimpered, stroking his nose. “I’m here. I’m here.” I bent over and hugged his face, gruesome teeth, tentacle fur, and all. The glow of his eyes, now back to ocean-blue, faded to the thinnest lines around black pupils.

  I heard more hooves, but I didn’t look up. I figured Stormy would want to say his goodbyes, too, with whatever sentience or recognition he had.

  The clack sounded awfully delicate for draught-sized hooves, though.

  Then I was blinded.

  “Foolish horse,” clucked a female voice I most certainly did not recognize. I blinked, but nothing seemed to come into focus. Everything around me was bright. And something else, glow-y bright—only visible against Ehrwnmyr’s green-black coat—was poking him in the spear wound. “Did you think I wouldn’t have come for the girl?”

  Ermie coughed on my jeans. Not…worth…the chance.

  “You of so little faith.” She laughed, sounding almost like a songbird’s lullaby. “I bet you did this just to see me.” She paused, and then said his name in that same musical way, “Ehrwnmyr.”

  A head, an equine head attached to the stick of glowing brightness at Ermie’s wound, winked a crystal-blue eye at me.

  Wait a minute…

  “Are you a…” I was hugging a kelpie, had just won negotiations with a daoine síth Lord and Lady, had dealt with a djinni, and had just been speared by a selkie, but I couldn’t bring myself to say unicorn. That was too weird.

  Well, at least the question of which “magickal beast” Ermie had been interested in knowing was around here was now answered.

  The unicorn laughed again, and then lifted her head. The wound closed. Ermie coughed a few more times. Blood and foam stained my jeans, but I smiled anyway. He was breathing. He rolled to his knees, inspected where the wound had been, and then looked at her. She danced a few feet back.

  I looked around, only seeing the light.

  “Where is everyone? Where are we?”

  “Just in a bubble of illusion. I figured a moment of privacy was warranted, though this is a rather momentous occasion.”

  “You can talk-talk.”

  “That’s how you perceive it, yes.” She was still hard to see, blending into the light around us, but I could catch glimpses when she moved. Unlike Ehrwnmyr, who looked like a sinewy draught horse with some ill-fitting shark and dog features thrown in, she was a graceful creature, like an Andalusian horse mixed with a deer and one of those fancy angora goats.

  You came to rescue no other child. I could hear sulkiness creeping into Ermie’s voice.

  “No other child thought a creature like you was worth dying for. They were merely afraid of you.” There was a chiding note to her voice.

  Ermie stood up and shook. I am what I am. He took a step towards her, head lowered stubbornly. I could feel his rebelliousness. We were linked again.

  “Not quite so, anymore,” she told him, turning her horned head to me.

  “What do you mean?” I asked as Ermie projected the same question.

  “The soul within you…” She spoke his name. His True Name. “…is now your own. It no longer belongs to Heather. I’m here just as much to complete that as to keep you alive.” She tossed her head…dare I say…flirtatiously. “Though, I think Heather’s eye color suits you. That can stay.”

  Ermie backed away several steps, unable to find words to express his disbelief…and other emotions.

  “Did you not invoke the power of the bridle to save Heather’s life? Knowing where it may very well have landed you?”

  Ermie tossed his head proudly. There was always the chance you would come. I had heard you had travelled to this region…

  Since we still had some sort of a connection, and he was a bit preoccupied with staring at the unicorn, I picked up that this little rumor was, in fact, why he felt he “belonged here.” And it wasn’t just any unicorn he wanted to know about, either. Had we seen her? He knew this unicorn.

  “You truly believed I would come for you, despite all you’ve done, rather than for a girl who threw herself in front of a spear for you? Are you really that…” She caught my eye and winked again. “…precious?”

  Ermie snorted, bouncing on his front legs and chewing on this news. His eyes never left her. As thick as I clearly was about boys and relationships, I was getting a feeling about this.

  “However…” Her voice had an edge to it. Not an angry one, a cautionary one. Such a cliche, but why wouldn’t there be a “however?” She stared intently at him. “There is a certain concern that the weight of a soul will not be enough for you. That you are still too dangerous and, if uncurbed, will harm more innocents.”

  Perhaps those who feel that way are right. He pawed at the glowing light that should have been the ground.

  “Do you feel that is right?” She took a step towards him. “Should I feel that is true?”

  He didn’t answer, finally looking away from her, head lowered. Well, mostly looking away. I could see him keeping her in the corner of his eye. He didn’t know an answer to that. So, what shall be done to appease those who are concerned?

  “Should you…return to your darker ways, I…” She paused, almost faltering, if such a graceful creature could falter. “I am charged with taking your life once again. Leaving your soul to whatever fate you’ve given it.”

  Ehrwnmyr swallowed, lifting his head and staring at her straight on. This time she dropped her head.

  I see.

  “Of course,” she moved her focus back on me, “this means you have no command over him anymore, Heather. You may ask him.” She turned to him. “And it may be wise for him to follow your lead.”

  He grunted in response to her “suggestion,” looking away again.

  She twirled, yes, twirled was the best word for it—I knew dressage riders who would kill for their horses to be able to do that—and looked over her shoulder at us. “I’ve done and said what I came here to do and say. Farewell, Ehrwnmyr and Heather.”

  Wait! You’re leaving already? He took several steps after her, but she seemed to blend right into the light, which now was fading around us.

  Voices, lots and lots of voices, started coming through what had been a pristine silence. It took a minute for my brain to sort them all out.

  “Heather! Heather! Heather, baby!” Both my parents pretty well tackled me in hugs. “What happened? What was that?”

  I picked out my dad’s cracking voice as he pressed his face into my neck. “Someone said…you were…”

  “I’m fine, Dad, Mum. I’m okay. Really.”

  More tackles and hugs came from Lily and Joe. Even Rowan found my hand
and squeezed it. Isis had wriggled into the group and was licking my face. As the rest of my friends threatened to smother me, I pushed everyone away. “I need a little breathing room, please? I’m fine!” I dodged from them and ran to Ermie, throwing my arms around his neck. He tore his gaze from the woods and nuzzled me. “You know,” I whispered to him because my brain so couldn’t handle mindspeaking now, “you so cannot tease me about boys who like me after that little bit of flirting bit back there.”

  He chuffed a “hmph” right into my face and gave me a gentle push with his nose. And you cannot command me to cease calling you “precious.” You silly, precious child.

  “I’ll tease you about crushing on unicorns, I swear it!”

  That would be so precious of you, wouldn’t it?

  I couldn’t help but laugh. But you know what? A good soul is precious. And Ermie seemed to be realizing that, too.

  CHAPTER

  21

  Appreciating the beauty of a cliff’s edge…and the danger.

  I closed my eyes and relished the burn of wind on my face. I wanted to let go of Ermie’s mane and throw my arms out, but I didn’t. I didn’t want to make Max jealous of Ermie’s tentacle fur, or worse, tempt him to try it on a horse without tentacle fur.

  And it was a long fall down the ocean cliffs.

  Behind me, I heard Joe laughing as I’d never heard him laugh before. He needed it as much as, or probably even more than, Max and I did. Running at this speed was beyond amazing.

  As we slowed to a walk, I stared down at the waves crashing against the rocks and the birds soaring below us. We’d gotten permission to take Ermie and Stormy out for a long ride. Considering everything we’d gone through, including me almost dying for real and Dream getting killed, well, we all needed this.

  Despite how awesome it felt in the moment, laughing as we looked down the dizzying cliffs, I felt guilty and selfish. Our parents had let us come by ourselves. I know they, too, could have used the incredible feeling of flying we had right now. Especially Mum, who normally never let us see her cry, but broke into sobs when we returned to Dream’s body. She didn’t stop even after she’d piled the last stone upon the cairn she’d built over his grave. I finally told her what happened once all the daoine síth and their court left. I had to, right then, because she was going out to the barn to check on the horses. It had been horrible, seeing her face and knowing the words coming out of my mouth were hurting her. When Ermie had killed Osiris, Isis’s brother, Dad had felt that pain very much, too. But for Dream, Mum was crushed. The horse had been her “baby” before Lily and I were even born. I felt awful that I hadn’t been able to stop Calbraith from torturing and killing the poor horse. After that first breakdown, though, she fought to hide any more tears. Especially with Max and the others still at our house.

  Max was still with us because he, like Lily’s friends—no, our friends—had also asked to stay. They’d gone through everything with us; they didn’t have to go home and have their memories messed with. We’d just have to be quiet and not tell anyone about it. As far as the rest of the world knew, Mum’s stay-away horse camp had been canceled this year.

  And then there was Livy. She had left. And she had asked Tony to erase all her memories of coming to Mum’s horse camp. I don’t know if Livy even wanted to stay friends with us. She didn’t tell us what she’d asked Tony to do. She’d just said goodbye.

  These thoughts made my stomach plummet faster than if it fell down the hundred or so of meters of cliff I stared over.

  “You all right?” Joe moved his hand from my waist, where he’d been holding on for the ride, and waved it in front of my face.

  “Yeah, just thinking.”

  Liar, came Ermie’s voice in my head.

  I thought I was supposed to be your Jiminy Cricket?

  My what?

  Conscience. Never mind. I sighed.

  “Mum. Dream. Livy,” I said to Joe.

  “I’m sorry, Heather.” I felt Joe sigh and nod behind me, hugging me and putting his hands over mine on the reins. “About Livy… What if other, you know, faery stuff happens to you all when she’s around?”

  “I don’t think she wants to hang around us anymore. I think she even asked Tony to…I don’t know…make her not want to hang out with us.” I sighed again. “Can he do that? Can he just erase her remembering anything about being friends with us?”

  Joe didn’t answer right away. “He’s changed, like, the whole of reality for everyone else. Erased the memories of everyone involved. Gotten rid of any notes in calendars… So, yeah, he can do…well…a lot. And yes, I know how scary that is.”

  Ermie growled below me, letting me know that he was well aware of how scary a djinni could be.

  I sighed. “I suppose that keeps her safe. Not that I’m thrilled with dragging anyone into more faery adventures. I don’t want anyone else hurt.”

  Ermie snorted and looked where Max had stopped several paces behind us, clinging to Stormy as he stretched just enough to look over the cliff before backing the half-kelpie several steps and taking a deep breath.

  “I don’t think you get a say in that, Heather,” Joe said, and I could hear the dry smile in his voice. “I mean, if I hear about you starting any more adventures without me, you are in seriously deep best-mate trouble!”

  I couldn’t keep myself from laughing. Best mates could do that, make you laugh when you needed it most. “You either. Magic lamps and djinn, really now!”

  Max walked Stormy over to us with a shy smile. “What are you talking about?”

  “How we’re not allowing each other to go gallivanting off with faerie without letting the other know,” Joe said.

  I didn’t exactly like the tone in his voice. It reminded me too much of Chris and Jared doing their butthead big-brother routine on poor Max, and Joe was only a year older than I was, so he totally did not get to pull that rubbish! “Present company included on the ‘having to call us if there’s any faery troubles,’ by the way. You don’t get to go throwing yourself into danger without proper consultation, either.”

  Behind me, I heard something resembling a “hmph,” and beneath me, I felt the jiggle of Ermie trying to hold back a laugh. Ignoring them both, I looked at Max, who had turned away, but not enough to hide the blush in his cheeks.

  “I mean it,” I said. “Official faerie liaison-y person, here. Any trouble, and you have to tell me. Important fey law or something. I’m sure it’s written down somewhere.”

  Finally, a smile and chuckle broke through Max’s face. He looked at me, grinning even more. “Thank you, Heather. That means a lot.” I caught his eyes flash to Joe and his expression dim a little. I didn’t know what look Joe was giving him, but for good measure, I stretched out my arms, twisting a little, and “accidentally” elbowed my best mate in the ribs. I felt the kelpie shaking with even more amusement. Ugh, boys!

  Max bit his lip a little. “So, you never told me if ‘Ehrwnmyr’ actually means something, like in, I don’t know, the fey language?”

  The kelpie’s chuckles stopped and he snorted, looking back over the water. He closed his eyes, stretched his neck, and curled his lips, tasting the salty air as the wind whistled by us.

  “Well,” I asked, leaning to scratch his favorite scratching spot. “Does it?”

  “‘Ehrwnmyr’ sounds kind of like a whicker to me,” Joe said. “Like, a pattern of horse, well, kelpie, noises.”

  Ermie’s sigh was deep and dramatic. The prince is closest. My father called me that because he said it was the sound that the sea wind makes when it rushes through the bushes on the cliffs…just before a storm comes in.

  Max smirked at me. “You mean the heath and heather bushes?”

  He was close enough to punch on the shoulder, so I did. “You know how often I have to hear my dad sing ‘Wild Mountain Thyme’ and emphasize my name?”

  “I don’t, actually, Heather.” Max grinned, side-passing Stormy out of punching range. “How often does your dad
sing songs with flowers you’re named after?”

  I nudged Ermie with my heel to get him to follow, so I could deliver a proper follow-up punch. The kelpie had decided to stop bothering to hide his laugh and let it cackle. It echoed down the cliff, disappearing into the sound of roaring waves and bird squawks.

  Well, if he was going to be that way, I could tease right back. “So, if you’re named after the sound a storm wind makes, then it sounds like Son of Storms was named properly. And ‘Stormy’ is a great name for him.”

  “Yeah, actually,” Max said.

  I gently smacked Ermie’s neck.

  “What did you do that for?” Max asked me.

  “He knows,” I answered as Ermie blatantly ignored me.

  “So, did…Calbraith name Stormy?” Max rubbed beneath his mount’s mane.

  I never told him the name Ehrwnmyr, so if he did, it wasn’t for that. He didn’t say it in words, but I felt in my head that though it wasn’t his True Name, he didn’t share “Ehrwnmyr” with many people. At least, not until he met me.

  “Would you change his name if he had?” Joe asked.

  Max shook his head. “The name suits.”

  Ermie gave a tiny sigh but kept his opinions to himself. The five of us, human and fey together, stared over the cliff again.

  The view was both awesome and terrifying. And I was pretty sure it wasn’t the last time we’d be feeling both those feelings at the same time. For now, though, it was something the group of us, a group of friends, could enjoy.

  Author’s Notes on Nobility and the Royal Family in Heather’s World

  One of the more difficult things about being an American author writing stories set in Scotland, as well as stories with characters not from her culture, is obviously the cultural difference. And one of the biggest cultural differences is that surrounding royalty, nobility, and peerage. Americans specifically shunned these ideas in declaring independence from Britain, so I hope any mistakes I may have made are covered up enough through Heather being half-American.