“Silence.” The Lord of the Llysllyn Court of the Tylwyth Teg looked from Mirallyn to Jill.
Jill shivered. He did not raise his voice, but the command held all the force of a shouted order. Her companions were instantly cowed, though Mirallyn at least looked squarely into his eyes.
He stepped toward Mirallyn. “I have been tolerant of you, Mirallyn. Tolerant of your indiscretion with a mortal lover. Tolerant of your subversive ideas to merge our people with Rhyania’s Court. Tolerant of your half-blood child cavorting in my domain. I should have destroyed that abomination and banished you before your madness grew too great.”
He stopped in front of Mirallyn. She stared into his eyes, unblinking, before frowning and speaking.
Jill could not understand Mirallyn’s words. She had not thought anything of being able to talk with Kravis and Ellie and eventually the Lady Mirallyn, but suddenly she was cut off from the language, as if someone had flipped a switch. She watched Lady Mirallyn speak and saw the angry reaction of the Lord of Llysllyn. Next to her Ellie seemed to wilt and tears began to roll down her cheeks. Kravis paled. Jill might not have been able to understand the words any longer, but she could tell they were in deep trouble.
Jill looked at the door to Annwn. It was no more than five feet away. If she could reach it, and if she could drag Lady Mirallyn with her to open it, she doubted the guards would dare follow. Jill took a couple of deep breaths. She was larger than everyone in the room. She would have to attempt something—probably something stupid—if she were going to save Mae.
Lord Murlannor turned toward her, locking his dark green eyes on her, capturing her gaze, holding her frozen with the force of his presence. He favored her with a sneer.
“I do not know what you thought to accomplish, human, but I can smell the taint of magic and doom on your spirit, and I will not allow you to destroy my people.”
“I just want to bring my friend home.”
“You lie! We know the secrets of your kin. We know the same blood runs through your veins as that of a mortal mage. You cannot hide your nature from us. You would open the door to Annwn and bring your masters to our realms!”
Jill held herself still. There was no reasoning with him, this she could tell. It was obvious the faerie lord had made up his mind that, since she was related to one of the mages, she had come to destroy his people. Jill was horrified at this confirmation of Robert’s involvement with the evil mages. She checked her allies.
Kravis and Ellie looked defeated, though they were still unbound and the guards had yet to draw a weapon. Only Lady Mirallyn kept her head up, her eyes fierce, but even she appeared either unable or unwilling to act. Jill knew nothing about magic, but she could tell the others were somehow being controlled by Lord Murlannor. From the moment the faerie lord had spoken, her companions had become helpless, but to whatever compulsion held them in place, Jill seemed immune.
Murlannor turned to his guards. “Kill the traitors. Remove the woman’s eyes. Leave her blind and naked at the water’s edge. She will be our message to her masters.”
Jill tensed. She had no intention of being blinded, stripped and tossed into the snow to die. She could still act, and Mae was counting on her. Jill snapped her baton out to its full twenty-four inches and struck. The blow took the unsuspecting Lord of the Llysllyn Court across the back of the head.
Jill winced at the dull, wet thud. She reached out and grabbed Lady Mirallyn by the front of her gown, jerking the small faerie woman forward, over the crumpled body of Lord Murlannor and between the startled guards. She heard the hiss of swords being drawn. The loud roar of Kravis’s battle cry and Ellie’s high scream of fear provided counterpoint to the shocked cries of the guards and fae in the Great Hall.
Jill pushed the wizard against the door and turned to face the first of the guards. “Open it!” she screamed, trying to deflect the stroke of a silver sword.
The guard’s blade slid along her baton. Jill managed to turn her body just enough to avoid losing her left arm. Her heavy winter coat cushioned most of the slice, though she felt a trickle of warm blood running toward her wrist.
“The door!” Jill screamed, pushing back against two guards who were pressing her, trying to force her against the wall and disarm her. Next to Jill’s head an arrow struck the wall, digging into the wood, quivering.
There was a sudden blast of cold air, as if winter’s fury had battered down the walls and was trying to crush them in a blizzard’s grip of freezing wind and icy rain. The screams of outrage from the assemblage in the Great Hall turned to cries of panic.
Jill had only an instant to register the opening of the door to Annwn before the guards overbore her and knocked her to the ground. She lay stunned, waiting for the final blow to fall, the bright flash of the blade that would end her life.
One of the guards fell on her, his surprised face inches from her own. Jill heard his death-rattle as breath and life left him. She jerked violently, throwing off the dead body. She was lifted from the floor and she screamed, both in fear and as a challenge, as she raised her baton to strike.
The blood-splattered face of Kravis peered at her, and Jill held her blow. Another explosion of cold air, terrible and fierce, tore through the Hall, blasting many of the fae from their feet, sweeping them along the floor, away from the open portal.
“This way,” Kravis shouted while dragging her toward the open door.
Before the door to Annwn, her back to the battle raging mere feet away, stood Lady Mirallyn. Her arms were opened wide as she faced the gale. She held the sword that had barred the door in one hand. Snow and ice tore at her cloak and gown. Her silver hair whipped like a ragged banner around her head. Jill could see Mirallyn’s lips moving, though she could not hear the words.
“Hurry!” Kravis yelled. “She cannot hold back the storm for long!”
Jill slipped under the arms of the wizard, struggling into the blizzard, Kravis pushing her, urging her forward.
Jill crossed the threshold into a land of winter and white. She turned to Lady Mirallyn, her hand outstretched. Behind Mirallyn, Kravis wheeled, sword in hand, defending his lady from the attacks of the grim-faced faerie-guards. Mirallyn tossed the sword that had barred the door into Annwn. It landed at Jill’s feet.
One of the guards managed to slip past Kravis and strike Mirallyn with his shield. She stumbled and turned toward her attacker. The door closed and vanished. Where Mirallyn had stood before, there was only flat, frozen ground for as far as the eye could see. With the closing of the door between Annwn and Llysllyn, the blizzard winds abated, leaving only a gentle breeze and softly falling snow.
“No!” Jill cried out to the uncaring expanse before her, her voice swallowed by the sound-deadening snow.
Jill wiped the tears from her face. She was tired, frightened and sick from all the death and violence, but there was nothing else to do except go forward.
She collapsed her baton and placed it back into her coat. Picking up the sword, Jill surveyed her surroundings. In the distance stood a frozen forest of snow-covered trees.
Jill started toward the far-off woods, certain it was where she would find Mae.
Dear Wall,
Elise brought breakfast to me this morning. She was very distracted, and I managed to steal the silverware. Now I can hear all the silver in the house. It is only a matter of time now before I bend it to my will, then I will be ready to make my escape.
My arms still hurts. I looked at where they cut me. It’s all red and angry looking, not healing at all like it should. It may just be because my body and magic are tired, but I fear it might be an effect of the magic they performed when they took my blood.
Ilona brought Chrysandra to my room. She stayed until lunch, but didn’t say anything. I’m worried that her brain might be lost. When Elise and Ilona came and took her away, Elise said it was time to freshen her up. I heard the two women arguing about the amount of magic they were expending on Chrysandra. Ilona apparently doesn�
��t like it, but Elise reminded her that the decision has been made. For a moment I thought Ilona was going to blurt out Mr. Hodgins’s first name, which would have put me that much closer to his full name, but she stopped herself.
It was after lunch that the real action started. I could hear the hounds, baying and howling, come into the mansion. There was a surge of magic. I could feel it, even past the wards they’re using to hold me in place.
A little later Mr. Hodgins came in to check on me. He stood and stared at me for a long time, frowning, not saying anything. He looked tired and pale, but he’s alive, and he’s still strong.
I could smell my blood on him, in him. They used my blood to heal him. That’s a mistake. I just need to break past the defenses on this house, and he’s mine.
Jill struggled through the deep snow, using the faerie sword like a walking stick. Every few steps she drove it through the icy crust and into the ground for stability, a function for which it was ill-suited. Stumbling on something unseen under the thick white blanket, she used the sword to pull herself back to her feet.
Her feet were numb, the unrelenting cold having pierced her boots and double pair of wool socks. Her legs ached with the cold, shaking, making her unsteady. The white glare caused her eyes to water. Jill found herself constantly blinking to clear her vision.
“Come on, Jill. Keep moving.” She was only about fifty yards from the tree line. She looked skyward, peering into the bright but sunless sky. The snow had stopped falling. She chuckled at how happy that made her feel.
She wondered if she could start a fire once she was in the forest. Jill’s experience in the wilderness was slim—a few camping trips as a child where every detail was so well-planned the outing might as well have been catered, and one bug-infested day of hiking in college. She doubted her ability to produce flame by rubbing two sticks together or using the blade of the sword to strike a spark off a rock, never mind finding tinder or wood dry enough to catch fire.
Jill paused at the first tree, leaning against it as she tried to catch her breath. Her lungs burned with every intake of frigid air, and her nostrils were frozen shut. She wiped her watery eyes with her coat sleeve. The snow was not as deep in the trees. Further into the forest she saw green trees, possibly firs and pines. Jill moved toward them, hoping for more cover, less snow, warmth and a clue as to Mae’s whereabouts.
Jill found the first footprints only a few feet into the forest. She squinted down at the imprints in the snow. They were smaller than her own. They could be Mae’s. There was a faint impression of paws as well. Jill gave the deep woods before her a wary look. The hounds had been here.
With no real choice and no real plan, Jill moved forward. Once she found Mae, she did not know how they would escape Annwn. She had assumed that Mirallyn, or Kravis, or even Ellie would be with her. One thing at a time, she decided. One thing at a time. She stopped for a minute, sitting on an ice-covered boulder for a few moments before she stood and bent at the waist, gloved hands on her numb knees.
“Let’s go, Jill. Can’t sit too long. Sitting can kill. The cold can kill. Keep moving,” she whispered to herself.
The tracks were easier to follow as she traveled deeper into the forest. She peered at one of the long icicles hanging from the limbs of a leafless oak. Jill reached out and touched it. She gasped at the sight of a small creature frozen in the ice and stepped backward, coming up against another boulder. She put a hand down to steady herself and discovered what she thought was a boulder was actually a frozen white cow.
“Mae!” she gasped, fearful that her friend had suffered a similar fate.
Jill dove into the forest, panic giving her strength. She followed the tracks deeper in, past an ever-increasing number of faerie creatures frozen in grotesque poses on the ground or hung from the trees.
Jill stopped, drawing ragged breaths. Her side hurt, and her legs were numb below the knees. Her toes and feet did not seem to exist anymore. She heard baying and sharp howls behind her.
The Cn Annwn were coming.
She lifted the sword and turned back to the tracks, determined to reach Mae before the red-eared fiends pulled her down.
She entered a small clearing. In front of her she saw a frozen man sitting on a throne growing from a giant tree. Behind her the sounds of barking and baying increased. Jill turned and lifted the sword, prepared to meet the threat.
The first of the white hounds burst into the clearing and pulled up short, seemingly surprised to encounter a living creature.
Jill screamed and charged. The lead hound rushed her, growling. She attacked, slashing down with the sword. Her arms and shoulders registered the shock of the blade digging into her opponent and striking the bones. There was a sickening thunk, and black blood flew through the air, covering Jill and the other hounds.
Jerking the blade loose, she stumbled, going to one knee in the snow as two of the hounds recovered from their surprise and attacked. The first one impaled himself on her blade, wrenching the weapon from her hand. The second struck at her face with its yellow teeth.
Jill jammed her arm into its mouth. She felt its teeth punch through her coat, reopening the blade wound from the battle in the faerie Court. Jill fumbled in her coat for her baton as the hound’s momentum knocked her onto her back. She rolled the hound over and drove her knee into its soft belly. The creature howled in pain, letting go of her arm. Jill sprang backward, stumbling to her feet, her baton drawn and extended. She shook the hair out of her eyes and turned quickly, looking for more opponents.
Two of the Cn Annwn lay dead in the snow. A third hound was crawling away, giving a low whine. The others were nowhere to be seen.
Collapsing her baton and placing it in her back pocket, she stepped to the hound she had stabbed. Placing a booted foot on the corpse, she jerked the sword free. Jill turned back toward the trail of what she hoped were Mae’s footsteps. The tracks stopped suddenly near the back of the frozen throne, at the beginning of what appeared to be a path deeper into the forest.
Jill shivered. The cold was working through her coat, while post-battle cool down and blood loss were sapping her body heat. She turned in a circle, seeking some sign of Mae or any living creature.
In the crook of the limbs of a dormant birch tree, neatly folded and stacked, lay a complete set of clothes. Jill reached up and pulled the stack of clothing down to examine it. Blue jeans, wool socks, a blue sweater, bra, panties, a heavy coat and boots. Jill recognized the sweater and coat Mae had worn when she had visited Jill’s office.
Panic settled on Jill, driving all concerns of death, all the pain from her injuries, all the worries about how to escape Annwn, from her mind. She spun in a frantic circle.
Jill almost missed the sight of Mae, camouflaged by the snow and ice.
“No. Oh please, no,” Jill whispered, horrified. Her whisper turned to a raw scream. “No!”
Mae’s limp, naked body hung from the giant oak tree that was the frozen man’s throne. She was impaled through the chest by one of the tree’s sharp, icy branches. There was a dark, ugly puncture wound in her stomach and a long gash along one of her pale arms. There was no bleeding, though Mae’s torso and injured arm were covered in dry, dark blood.
Jill collapsed, falling to her knees in the snow. She hung her head and let the tears fall. It was over. She had failed. Mae was dead. Soon she would be dead as well, frozen in the wastes of Annwn.
Jill rubbed the tears away and looked up at Mae. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
Jill turned away from the sight of Mae’s body and placed her head in her hands. She took two deep breaths as her shoulders began to shake. A third deep breath. She looked up at the sunless sky and screamed, a raw, primal explosion of fury and grief. Jill shouted out her anger and pain to the uncaring world around her. She screamed until her throat failed and her cries became nothing more than a series of hoarse gasps. Snow started to fall, and the wind began to increase, strong freezing gusts driving heavy, wet flakes at
Jill.
“No,” she rasped out. “It doesn’t end like this. I said I’d bring Mae home, and you are not going to stop me. You can’t have her. You’re not keeping her.”
Her body was numb from grief and cold. Jill walked up to the tree from which Mae’s naked body was suspended. Jill could only reach to Mae’s knees, could not get enough leverage to pull Mae off the limb holding her. Jill lifted the sword.
She was not going to leave Mae hanging from a tree like some rotting piece of meat in an abandoned butcher shop. Jill swung the sword over-handed. It hit the branch, and chips of ice flew. Jill swung again, more frozen shards scattering. With a snarl of rage, Jill began chopping at the wood as fast as she could swing the weapon, ignoring the burning in her arms, the exhaustion in her shoulders. She hacked at the tree limb mercilessly, oblivious to the ice chips cutting into her face, neck, and hands with every stroke. The skin on her palms and fingers began to blister and tear under the unfamiliar strain.
Jill squeezed the blood-slick hilt and continued her attack. A shard of ice struck her left eye. Jill cried out in pain and defiance and swung again, the blade biting into the frozen wood of the tree.
“Give her back to me!” Jill screamed, hitting the tree again and again. “Give her back to me, damn you!”
She heard the crack of wood and stopped her work. Another crack. Jill saw the limb start to bend downward, breaking under the strain of Jill’s furious chopping and Mae’s limp weight. She dropped the sword and reached for Mae, grabbing her around the waist as the limb snapped. The point of the limb jabbed Jill in the back as Mae’s body slumped over Jill’s shoulder.
Jill struggled, if not to keep her feet, then to at least not collapse completely. She let Mae’s weight drive her down to her knees. Jill settled and shifted Mae off of her shoulder, moving Mae’s still form into her lap.
Last Car to Annwn Station Page 14