by Vivi Anna
As the cart rumbled down the road, made uneven by the wind and rain of the storm, Drea worried. Everything had changed and she wasn’t sure how to deal with it. She’d wished for adventure and she’d definitely gotten it. But she’d also gotten so much more. Her heart swelled with the possibilities. And her belly clenched at the inevitability. They were on the road to her home, but ultimately it was the path to his, to him leaving this world, and her.
“Do you think your brother has found his way to the village?”
“I don’t know. He’s a smart man so I would hope so.”
“Tell me about him. Were you close?”
He looked down at his feet as he spoke. “Rhys was always the serious one in the family. Everyone thought him cold, but I knew better. He had a playful side.” He chuckled a little. “We were close when we were little, but grew apart as brothers do when they grow. But we always kept in contact. He was really the only one I talked to.”
“Why do you think it’s taken him all these years to finally come?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know. Maybe something’s happened that’s forced him to come.”
“Like what?”
But he didn’t answer her. Instead he took her hand and pressed a kiss to the palm. “It doesn’t matter. What matters now is getting you home. Keeping you safe.”
He put an arm around her, and she set her head on his shoulder. They rode the rest of the way in silence.
When they came around the last corner before entering the village, Drea sensed something was amiss. She didn’t know exactly what, but shivers rushed up and down her back. Sebastian cuddled her closer.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Is that smoke?” Blythe asked.
They both looked up at the dark swirls in the pinkened sky just over the treetops. As they passed the last of the trees and could see the village, the dark swirls were thick. It was indeed smoke. Now they could see people running about, confused and scared. And they could hear the screams that came from the burning houses.
Before Blythe stopped the cart, Drea jumped out and ran into the village. Sebastian was right behind her.
“Drea! Stop!”
“My father. Something’s happened. I can feel it.”
She ran down the street, through the main square. People rushed by her, men carrying buckets of water, women cradling crying children. She saw the miller’s daughter run by. “Rosa! What’s happening?”
“Some strange men came. Started asking questions about the morrigan. And about you.”
“Me?”
Rosa nodded, then kept on going. Drea continued on until she reached the other end of town and her house. Or where her house should’ve been.
It was the smell that hit her first and dropped her to her knees. Burned wood, and grass, and all the herbs she’d grown in the garden. On top of all that was a sickly sour stench, which she didn’t even want to consider.
Tears blinded her and a sob stuck in her throat, choking her. But she scrambled to her feet and rushed toward the house, screaming, “Papa!”
Before she could reach the ashes in the yard, Sebastian grabbed her around the waist and lifted her up, preventing her from going forward. “Drea, stop. You don’t want to go in there.”
She struggled in his arms, flung her arms and legs, trying to get free. “Let me go! I have to help him.”
“You can’t. He’s already gone.”
She didn’t want to hear his words; she didn’t want to believe them. She continued to struggle, slapping at his arm that encircled her waist. “Papa!”
He smoothed a hand over her head. “He’s gone, Drea. He’s gone.” He pressed his lips to her cheek. “Take a deep breath, my darling. Breathe.”
She didn’t want to breathe. Not if it meant her father was dead.
But she did calm a bit, as she was too tired to fight. Her arms and legs she could hardly lift any longer. She just wanted to melt into his arms, wanted to melt into oblivion where she wouldn’t have to face the horror that lay before her.
He brought her down to the ground and cradled her in his lap, rocking her, stroking her hair. And the sobs came. Gut-wrenching, heart-twisting sobs that nearly ripped her apart.
“Shh, darling,” he whispered into her hair.
But she was beyond listening, and his words fell on deaf ears. The only thing in her head was a buzzing sound. A muddled amalgamation of every word, every thought ever spoken to her by her father. It swirled around in her mind, pushing on her. The pressure in her mind was almost unbearable.
When she became aware of movement around where they sat on the cold muddy ground, she looked up to see the elves surrounding them, bows raised.
“Stand up,” Acari said.
Sebastian tensed, and the muscles along his jawline twitched. “You did this.”
“I said get up, or I’ll put an arrow through your skull.”
Sebastian did, dragging Drea to her feet. “You can have me, just let her go.”
Acari glanced at the other two elves positioned behind them then back to Sebastian. “We don’t want you, sorcerer. We want the girl.”
“Why? What use is she to you?” Sebastian growled.
“Arrogant, just like all sorcerers,” Acari sniffed. “You think the entire world revolves around you.” He nodded to one of the other elves. “Take her.”
“No!” Sebastian held on to Drea but the elf already had a hold of her other arm. She felt like a wishbone being torn in half.
“Stop!” she yelled. “Tell me why you want me.”
“Drea, no. They will hurt you without a second thought to get what they want. Look what they did here. Remember what they did to John and Lottie.”
Acari pointed his crossbow at Drea. “Best you remember that, sorcerer. We need her alive but she can live without a few limbs.”
Sebastian let go of her arm and the elf tugged her toward him. She looked at him, wondering if he’d rescue her, although she was almost too tired to care at this point.
“You should be happy,” Acari said. “You’ll be reunited with your brother.”
Drea’s eyes bulged. “My brother? Impossible. He’s dead.”
“I know, and you’re going to take us to where he died. Where the morrigan killed him.”
“Acari, I beg you not to do this.” Sebastian flexed his fingers.
“Why ever not?” He took a step forward and nearly pressed the tip of his arrow into the hollow of her throat. It sent a jolt of pain through her. “Now, I suggest you raise your hands and don’t do anything stupid.”
“Do what they say, Sebastian.” Her voice trembled. “I’ll be all right.”
“I’ll find you. I swear to God, I will.”
She took in a quivering breath, then said in a rush, “I hit you over the head that night. I didn’t want you to get hurt.”
“I know.”
“Humans.” Acari shook his head. “Your sentiment is sickening.” He nodded to the other elf behind Sebastian and he slammed the butt of his crossbow into the back of Sebastian’s head.
When Sebastian fell to the ground, Drea’s heart leaped into her throat. She struggled against the elf’s hold on her arm but it was futile. He was much too strong and his grip on her arm just hardened, his fingers digging into her flesh. She’d have bruises by morning.
“You killed him!” she shouted. “Just like you killed my father.”
“He’s not dead, but we can’t have him following us now, can we?” Acari slung his crossbow onto his back. “If he does, I will most definitely put an arrow through his throat.”
“I’m not going to make it easy.” Letting her knees go weak, she slumped forward. The elf was quick to catch her from smashing her knees on the ground.
“Don’t
be stupid, woman,” Acari said. “Stand up.”
“No, you’ll have to kill me.”
He sighed, then signaled to the elf holding her up. With an ease she thought impossible, he squatted, flipped her over his shoulder and stood. He handled her as if she weighed no more than a sack of feathers.
She kicked and screamed as they carried her to the waiting horses outside. The elf slung her over the back of his horse. She immediately slid off, landing in a muddy puddle, then jumped to her feet and tried to make a run for it. She barely made it five feet before Acari threw something at her feet that tangled them up and brought her down. Into another puddle.
She sat up, spitting muddy water out of her mouth. Wet hair hung in her eyes and she wiped at it. Her wrist throbbed a little and she cradled it to her chest.
“I admire your spirit, somewhat,” he said. “But you are coming with us. It can either be riding on the horse or tethered behind.”
“You wouldn’t dare,” she sputtered.
“Wouldn’t I?” He unwound some rope.
Resigned to her fate, Drea pushed up to her feet. She was now soaking wet, her hair plastered to her face, and shivering violently. “Are you going to kill me?” She had to ask because what would be the point of her cooperation if they were just going to end her life.
“No. We need those memories of yours to guide us.”
Not that she truly believed him, but at least it was something she could cling to until she could figure out a way to escape and find her way back to Sebastian.
“Fine.” She sloshed back to the horse and let the elf help her up onto the back. She’d bide her time until she could find an opportunity to escape or to kill one of them. Hopefully both.
“Drea!”
She turned to see her aunt running toward the burned-down house and Sebastian’s prone form.
“Aunty!” She reached out a hand toward her, knowing there was nothing she could do for her, especially as all three elves kicked their horses and sent them galloping into the woods.
Drea kept watching over her shoulder until her village and the important people in it were obscured by the thick copse of trees. She feared she’d never see it or them again.
Drea didn’t know how long they’d been riding by the time she slumped against the elf in front of her and fell asleep. Exhaustion had kidnapped her. She dreamed while she slept. She dreamed of Sebastian and the first time they’d met...
It had been market day and she was in the village square picking up the week’s supply of produce and meat. The melons had been extra plump that day. She picked one up and rapped her knuckles against it, then put it to her nose. She could always smell a ripe one.
That was when she saw him across the square. He was speaking with Claude, the blacksmith. He was difficult not to look at, being so tall and lean, with silky dark hair that hung past his shoulders. She glanced around and saw all the other women noticing him as well. Young and old, it made no matter. The man possessed that kind of allure.
He looked up then, his gaze catching hers. It was so fierce and intense that it made Drea startle. Her hands flinched and she fumbled the melon, then dropped it. Right on top of the other melons. This in turn made all of those roll and drop to the ground. Two or three rolled out from under the tent and bounced across the cobblestone square.
Mortified, Drea chased after the melons. She was able to snatch one up but the other continued to roll until it stopped right at Sebastian’s boot toe. He bent over and picked it up.
“I believe this belongs to you.”
Her cheeks were aflame and her throat went dry. She could barely get a word out. He handed it to her with a smile that made her knees weak and her belly do interesting flip flops.
“Thank you,” she managed to squeak.
“Do you like magic?” he asked unexpectedly.
“I don’t know,” she said. “I’ve never seen any.”
Slowly he reached for her face. She thought he was going to brush a finger against her cheek. Instead he tucked one stray curl behind her ear, and when he lowered his hand there was a large silver medallion in it. The medallion had a picture of two crossed swords and was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. Apart from him, of course.
“Treasure can be found in the most interesting places.” He’d handed it to her.
She’d smiled and clutched the medallion tight.
“I will come for you.”
Frowning, Drea looked around. Where had that voice come from? This was not part of her memory.
Sebastian grabbed her hand, his face a stern mask, blood dripping down his forehead. “Hold it tight and I will find you.”
She pulled away in a panic. This wasn’t how the day had gone. This wasn’t what had happened.
“Don’t let it go. It’s a beacon. I’m coming, Drea. I’m coming!”
Drea startled awake. She was still on horseback, her head resting on the back of the elf. She sat up and looked around. They were still in the woods, but in a section she didn’t recognize. It was denser, greener. And, she had to admit, creepier.
Without drawing notice to herself, she drew a finger down the chain she wore around her neck and slowly pulled out the medallion hidden in the bodice of her dress. Sebastian had given it to her. She’d been wearing it around her neck since that day.
She clutched it in her hand and thought about him. She closed her eyes and pictured his face in her mind. He had that sad but determined look in his eyes, and she knew he’d come for her no matter what.
Chapter Thirteen
True to her word, Avaira showed Darin how to construct a portal. It used a darker magic than he had ever dreamed of. Magic that he coveted with all his heart.
They required room to work and privacy, so Darin paid off the cardinal who was in the service of the Hawthorne family, and they used a portion of St. Paul’s Cathedral. It was a place of great power. Many ley lines of energy converged in that one spot. It was the reason the Catholics built the church there in the first place. Their worshippers would be loath to know that old world pagan mysticism chose their place of worship.
Once inside the small oval chapel of St. Michael and St. George, Avaira shut and sealed the heavy gold inlaid doors. Thick candles were already lit along the altar and at the four corners, casting a golden glow around the room.
Avaira was wearing long dark robes and a circle of onyx. She looked like a dark and terrible goddess, the candlelight making her even more enchanting, and his cock tightened at the sight of her. If they hadn’t had pressing matters to attend to, he would’ve bent her over the altar and buggered her rotten.
As it was, they were on a tight schedule. The solstice was only five days away, and he needed to ensure that no Davenport returned to London ever again.
Avaira handed him a piece of charcoal. “Draw a circle with a triangle inside on the floor, as large as you can make it.”
Darin glared at her for a moment. He was unaccustomed to being told what to do. Only his father had that kind of power over him.
The elf glared back, unafraid of him. “If you want this to work, you have to be willing to do the things that need to be done. Did I pick the wrong sorcerer to share this powerful magic with?”
He fiddled with the charcoal, his fingers quickly turning black. “No, you chose wisely.”
“Then show me.” She gestured to the black and white marble-tiled floor.
Despite the violent urge to hurt her that ran through his body like wildfire, Darin pushed aside two benches, then dropped to the floor on his hands and knees. He drew the circle carefully, then added the triangle. The second the last point of the triangle met with the circle, a surge of power swept the room. He could feel it brushing against his skin. The little hairs on his arms and on the back of his neck grew to attention. The sensation
made him hard.
Avaira took a stick of calcite and inscribed symbols in all three semi-circles made by the intersecting triangle and circle. The moment she was done, a wave of heat rushed through the room. It was like being blasted by a spontaneous fire. He closed his eyes and soaked it up.
“Now we need the life force of a sacred creature to open the veil between worlds.”
She went to her large leather satchel and came away with a white cat, its legs tied together and its jaw bound shut. At first he thought it was already dead, but he could see its gray eyes looking at him, fear making its pupils large. His gut churned, and for the first time in a long while he felt something other than apathy for another being. It surprised him.
“What are you going to do with it?” he asked, although he suspected he already knew.
“Use its blood to open the portal. Cats, much like elves, are powerful creatures. They straddle veils like walking on a tightrope.” She ran a hand over its back. “What’s the matter? You look pale.”
Darin couldn’t tell her he didn’t like killing animals. As a child he had a pet cat. He’d found it in the streets and taken it home. Of course his father hadn’t known. He hadn’t noticed Darin much anyway. But the one day his father did visit his private rooms, he found the cat and forced Darin to drown it. With tears streaming down his cheeks he’d done it. He still had a scar on his forearm where the cat’s back claws had shredded his flesh in defense.
He cleared his throat. “It’s just so messy. Isn’t there a more civilized way to open the portal?”
“This is wild magic. It’s messy and unpredictable and uncomfortable.” She stroked a finger down his cheek. “We can stop if you want. Try and find a natural portal if you prefer.”
Darin did want to stop, which surprised him to no end. Why his boyhood fears and regrets were coming into play now, he’d never understand. He was not weak-stomached. He’d done things most men would weep at. He’d done them gladly. But right at this moment he had a hard lump in the pit of his stomach, as if something was extremely wrong. The magic swirling around them, caressing him, felt wrong. Yet he couldn’t deny the erection between his legs.