by L. M. Hawke
Tears stung her eyes, spilling over her cheeks. “There is nothing for me in our world, Ailill… not unless I have you. I’d thought you were a cheat, did you know that? I heard you in the blackthorn with… with her. And I didn’t understand what was going on. But I understand now… I know. You’ve been under Etain’s control all along, haven’t you?”
An expression of pain flitted across his features. “Yes.”
Ailill drew a deep breath and continued, “When Etain first came to me, I didn’t know her for what she was. I thought she was an ordinary woman… human. I tried to resist her advances even then, even when I thought she was only human, but little by little, she seemed to take over my heart and my mind. I thought I was in love with her. I didn’t know she’d worked her magic on me. By the time I’d begun to suspect what she truly was—and how she had enchanted me—it was too late. I still could have rejected her then, if I had only been rejecting her. But it was more than just her, you see. The inspiration she gave me… the art… well, Etain had made me into the musician I’d always dreamed of being. For the love of my music, I kept on entertaining her, kept… feeding her… long past the point when I should have cut her off forever. And now it’s too late. She owns me, body and soul.”
“She doesn’t own you,” Una said. But the tears wouldn’t stop falling. She was miserably sure that Ailill was right about the Leanan.
“I know what she’ll do with me—how she’ll use me up,” Ailill said. He was calm now, as if accepting his grim fate. “I’m not the only artist Etain has leached.” He nodded weakly toward the stone cauldron. “Not only my blood in there. Other men’s blood, too. Probably the blood of some women, as well—I don’t doubt it.”
“What does she do with all that blood?” Una whispered faintly.
“She draws power from it. It’s like… an engine moving an auto. There’s a… a vibration in blood, I suppose, as there is in the spirit of creativity. You and I may not be able to sense that energy, but she can. She’s attuned to it, like a predator to the movement of its prey. That vat of blood is the well of her strength. And it has grown fuller and fuller. She has grown stronger.”
Una stared dismally at the red pool. She thought of the threat Etain posed to the Seelie Court—and to the human world, too. There was so much blood in the stone cauldron—such a deep well of power for the Leanan to draw on. Was it too late already? Could anyone to hope to stop Etain?
But as Una stared at the cauldron, the soft reflection of light from its surface glinted and winked at her. The shreds of her delicate hope stirred once more in her breast.
Perhaps… perhaps the blood would work as well as water. It was a still pool, and reflective.
Una glanced up, searching for any signs that Etain might be returning. She had to try the cauldron of blood, and now, while the Leanan was elsewhere.
Reluctantly, she left Ailill’s side and crouched over the cauldron. The thick pool gave off a sickening odor, metallic and thick. Una gagged, but she forced herself to remain calm. She stared into the reflection of her own eyes and called out softly for Kathleen.
14
The sound of her own name cut through Kathleen’s sleep, even though Una’s voice was timid and faint.
“Kathleen,” Una called again.
Una’s urgency was plain to be heard. But her voice sounded strangely distorted, too—strained and filtered through an odd, rippling interference that thickened and slowed her speech.
Kathleen thrashed out of her sleeping bag, zipped open her tent’s door with a jerk, and crawled on hands and knees to the garden pond. The night air was crisp and smelled of rain. Kathleen shivered as she looked down into the water. There was Una, staring up at her with wide-eyed fear. But something was wrong with the image, too. Everything was… red.
“Una, where are you?” Kathleen asked, leaning over the pool. “Why does the water look so strange?”
“Because it’s not water,” Una whispered. The sound bubbled thickly up to Kathleen’s ears. “It’s blood.”
“Blood? My God! Are you all right? What’s happened to you?”
“I must be quick,” Una said. “I don’t know how much time I’ve got, so listen to me, please.”
Kathleen nodded, and Una began to speak. As the story unfolded—of being captured the Leanan Sidhe, and taken into her strange lair-within-a-boulder, and then of finding Ailill still alive but perilously weak—Kathleen felt ever more parted from reality.
I must still be dreaming, she told herself. I’m still asleep. I’ll wake any moment, back inside the tent.
But she didn’t wake, and the night’s chill intensified to a shocking cold as Kathleen accepted that this was all quite real. Una’s situation had only grown worse, far more dangerous. Dismay and doubt wracked Kathleen. She hoped it didn’t show on her face.
“But listen,” Una went on, “I’ve seen some similarities between the human world and the Otherworld—landmarks, familiar places. I think certain locations within the Otherworld corresponded to similar places in our world.”
“I suppose that makes sense,” Kathleen said. “They are parallel worlds, after all. Why shouldn’t they share some features in common?”
“So, then, I think I might be able to tell you where the Leanan’s portal is… where it opens out in our world.”
Kathleen nodded eagerly. “Come on, then. I’m ready to build the cairn.”
“Do you know a place where a big boulder stands between two oaks?” Una asked. “It’s a very tall stone… at least, it is in the Otherworld. And the oaks are almost perfect twins, with great, spreading branches… except one oak has some sort of a spike driven into its trunk. At least, it has a spike in it here, in this realm.”
Kathleen bit her thumbnail, sorting through her memories, trying to think where she’d ever seen such a sight before. And one memory did stand out. A mile or so beyond the crossroads, in Mr. Riley’s back pasture, Kathleen had come across a boulder between two oak trees while hunting for mushrooms with her friends. That had been years ago, when she was still a schoolgirl.
“Yes, I think I know it,” she said. “I can find my way there again.”
“That’s the Leanan’s portal,” Una whispered. “The entrance to her lair.” Her words were so quiet and secretive that Kathleen almost couldn’t hear them.
“Seal it up,” Una said. “Go and build the cairn.”
“I will.” The spark of renewed hope flared in Kathleen’s breast. But with a chill, she snuffed that hope out again, for the sickening realization had dawned on her… “But you’re still inside that place, Una. I can’t seal it up with you inside. You’ve got to get out first!”
A terrible sorrow filled Una’s dark eyes. “It may be too late for Ailill and me. I’m not sure we can find any way out of here, though I’ll try, Kathleen. I promise you that. But we can’t think only of Ailill and me now. We have to stop the Leanan, Kathleen. I’ve seen her supply of blood; I know how strong her magic is, and how much more potent it will become. She’s even more dangerous then you realize. For the sake of the human realm, you have to stop her.”
Numb and horrified, Kathleen nodded. “I’ll… I’ll try to seal up the portal. But you must promise me you’ll try to get yourself out of there before I do.”
“I promise,” Una said. “Now I’ve got to go. The Leanan is coming.”
As the red vision faded in the pool, Kathleen wondered morosely whether time had already run out. For in the world of humans, Samhain was fast approaching. The veil was perilously thin already.
15
Una crawled away from the cauldron, back to Ailill’s side—and none too soon. Etain swept into the room, a cold smile fixed to her face and a cruel glint in her red-brown eyes. She had changed her clothing, draped now in an alluring gown that clung to the curves of her body and showed her ample cleavage. The rich garb made her look even more vital and regal than she had before. She had fixed her hair, too, twisting it up in an intricate knot with a few dark tendrils hanging down
to brush her cream-white collarbones. Etain seemed to be in a celebratory mood—gloating, no doubt, over whatever evil she planned to wreak on Una and the Seelie.
Una shivered as she looked up at Etain. If Kathleen managed to seal the portal, then Una and Ailill would be trapped indefinitely with this creature—her playthings for as long as they could hold out. It wasn’t a pleasant prospect.
Etain tilted her head curiously and breathed in that curious way she had, tasting the air again. But she wasn’t sniffing around Una this time. She sighed contentedly.
“Do you feel it? Samhain is nearly here. The veil grows ever thinner. And this year—this year, I will finally come into my full power.”
Etain turned her predatory gaze on Ailill, staring at him with an expression that was almost affectionate, though “proprietary” would be a more apt word. The possessive look made Una’s skin crawl. Ailill swallowed hard, and seemed to will himself to hold the Leanan’s eye without flinching.
“My favorite pet,” Etain cooed. “Let us have some of your glorious music.”
Ailill shook his head weakly. “Please, Mistress. I can’t play now. I can hardly lift my arms. I must rest; I’m too weak to—”
“Silence,” Etain snapped. Ailill winced in response. “I cannot abide your whining, Ailill. And you know how your music pleases me. You do want to please me, don’t you?”
“Y… yes,” Ailill stammered.
Etain cast a look of triumph at Una, who still crouched beside Ailill’s stone bed.
Etain went to the wall of niches and reached into the largest compartment. She drew out an ornate harp, about two feet high and made from some shining, mottled substance—perhaps an animal’s horn, Una thought. She laid the harp on Ailill’s chest.
“Play,” Etain commanded.
Ailill clenched his teeth and did not move. His grimace turned to a hiss of pain, as if he fought the Leanan’s will and suffered for it. His face paled all the more as he resisted her command, and soon his whole body began to quake.
“Please,” Una said, turning first to Etain, but finding no sympathy or mercy there—as she knew she would not. She turned to Ailill instead. “Just play. Please; you’re too weak to hold her off.”
Ailill released a sad, defeated sigh, then picked up the harp with trembling hands and began to play. The music swelled and rippled all around them; here in the Otherworld, Ailill’s art was even more powerful than it had ever been in the human realm. Una could feel the music, inside and outside, pulsing through her veins with the beat of her heart, coming to life in the air around her, brushing her face with gentle, unseen hands. It was at once awe-inspiring and terrifying, for she had never before encountered music that she could feel.
Etain reveled in the sound, the sensation. Her skin glowed with a cast of power; her body emanated a slight but unsettling light. With a chill, Una realized that she was witnessing the Leanan at work—watching as she drew on Ailill’s artistic force, as she consumed the vibration of his creativity and incorporated it into her own ever-increasing power. Etain was growing greater, more unstoppable, before Una’s very eyes. Her magic was mounting, preparing its devastating attack.
“Stop,” Una said weakly. “You can’t attack the—”
Etain lifted her hand imperiously, and the air solidified around Una. Her words cut off with a pained grunt as the invisible fist squeezed her tightly. She was held in her place—by Ailill’s music, by the Leanan’s will.
Etain chuckled cruelly as Ailill’s music faded. The Leanan watched Una’s immobilized desperation with a satisfied smile.
“I can’t?” Etain said lazily. “I can’t, you say? Well, perhaps I cannot… not yet. But you can, little thing. You, who can cross the boundary of the Seelie Court. Oh, I have a task for you. Come.”
Etain turned away, gliding out of the chamber, and once again, Una was pulled along behind her. Ailill cried out, but he and Una were both powerless to stop the Leanan from doing whatever she pleased. Etain did not slow, and Una was dragged inexorably away, unable even to look back over her shoulder for one last sight of Ailill before they were separated.
Etain spoke her magic again, and the white-framed portal re-appeared. Its magenta glow made Una squint, trying to shield herself from the brightness. Etain stepped through the door with Una close behind her.
Una stared around frantically when the magenta light died away. She was standing before the two oaks once more, with the great boulder rearing up between them.
I’m free of the stone, Una thought with a shudder of relief.
But the relief didn’t last long. Ailill was still trapped inside. Somehow she must get him out of there before Kathleen built the cairn. She was willing to suffer and die inside Etain’s lair if Ailill was there with her… but she would not to leave him to face that grisly fate alone.
How could she hope to reach Kathleen, though—how could she warn her friend before she commenced sealing up the portal? Una’s eyes darted this way and that, searching for any puddle she might use to call out to Kathleen. But there was no source of water in sight, and anyway, Una had no hope of reaching Kathleen while she was trapped in Etain’s invisible spider web.
The Leanan turned Una roughly about.
“Look at the tree,” Etain said.
Una looked. Her eyes lit immediately on the metallic spike she’d noticed before. The spike seemed to be about as long as her hand, and no wider than two fingers. It was round and roughly made, but tapered to a narrow point, which was driven into the oak’s rough bark.
“What do you see?” the Leanan demanded.
“I… I don’t know. Some kind of tool stuck into the tree.”
Etain gave a languid laugh. “Silver. Pure silver—quite valuable in your realm, I hear. Do you know what it’s for?”
Una tried to shake her head, but she couldn’t do it. Instead she whispered, “No.”
“Long ago—oh, many, many years—I had a particular pet, a lover like poor, used-up Ailill. He was devoted to me for some time, but one way or another, he realized what I am and what I intended to do with him. He thought to stop me by driving that silver spike into my tree. He believed it would prevent me from coming and going.”
He drove the spike into the tree there, in the human realm, Una realized. So whatever is done there truly can have an effect here. There is hope in Kathleen’s cairn, but I must get Ailill out first.
“Of course,” Etain went on, “the spike did nothing to stop me. I can still come and go as I please, even with silver on my doorstep. Humans are such fools. But do you know what I cannot do, little thing?”
Again Una whispered, “No.”
“I cannot touch it.”
Her terrible, grasping power clenched and shifted around Una’s body. Una resisted, but Etain’s force and will pried at her, until, with a cry of despair, Una gave in and moved her arm—or rather, she allowed Etain to move it. Helpless to stop the Leanan, Una grasped the silver spike and wrenched it out of the oak’s trunk. The metal burned her skin, but although it caused her pain, the silver didn’t seem to cause her any real injury. Una stared in horror at the spike, at her hand—which was no longer under her control.
“I can’t touch silver,” Etain said. “But you can.”
Etain said no more. Una’s mind raced as Etain turned her about again and began to push her away from the boulder, away from the oaks.
So silver could damage the Unseelie—though a single spike of silver driven into a tree was clearly not enough to deter a Leanan from crossing the veil. Still, Etain couldn’t handle the stuff herself. The metal burned Una’s hand—her part-Seelie flesh. She took that to mean that the Seelie would be just as vulnerable to silver as the Unseelie.
Una’s mouth went dry; she stared down at the silver spike. “What is this all about?” she demanded.
“It’s your task, little human. Your great work. My great work. The spells those Seelie fools use to protect their stronghold are still powerful enough to keep me out.
But you can cross the barrier at will.”
Etain’s magic moved around Una’s body again. Although she tried to resist it, Una raised the spike and slashed viciously at the air.
With a sickening chill, Una realized exactly what task Etain had in mind. She was no longer in control of her body, but her mind worked well enough to see exactly what the Leanan was planning, exactly how her scheme would unfold.
Una was to be her assassin. Etain would send her back through the ring of stones, into the Seelie Court—into the heart of the Fair Folk’s stronghold. And there, with the deadly silver in her fist, she would eliminate the last obstacle that stood between Etain and ultimate power.
“No,” Una pleaded. “Don’t make me do this.”
But her pleas fell on uncaring ears. No matter how doggedly Una tried to root her feet to the earth, the Leanan marched her back through the dark forest, one foot in front of the other, with the burning silver in her hand… straight toward the Seelie Court.
Also by L. M. Hawke
The Blackthorn Cycle
Twig of Thorn
Harp of Thorn (January, 2017)
The Turquoise Path
Black Moon Sing
Red Fire Glow
Blue Sky Break
Alpha House
Virgin Shift
Witch’s Reign
Rain City Hunters
A Sense of Shadows
Ghostlight