by Joey W. Hill
Uthe had been solitary, his relationships to other vampires at arm’s length except for a handful of those he counted as respected allies and sometimes friends. He’d become a Templar to resolve the nightmares of his past, pushing himself to serve as the others did and even further. Those nightmares had woken him with cold sweats for decades, and he still occasionally had them. Hell had set up a permanent room inside him and, if he opened it up, the tormented souls there could tear apart his insides with yearning claws, trying to get away from their torture.
A vampire’s nature wasn’t wired toward service, which was perhaps why the Templar Order had been enough of a compromise to work for him. Obedient to God and eschewing all trappings of wealth or prestige, they also trained to be the very best at what they did, assuming leadership roles in military efforts and as armed escorts. They were in command on the battle field, and committed to obedient service off of it.
The routine of life with the Order had quieted those howling souls for a time. He was content within that structure. But discovery of the head had changed everything.
Initially, the blood link with it had been very disruptive. At the time it had occurred, Uthe had never had a third or even a second mark servant. He’d had no experience with someone sharing his mind by choice, let alone when compelled. The demon had increased his nightmares until Uthe wished never to sleep again.
Over time, he’d figured out ways to block him while asleep. During waking hours, he’d learned how to turn the volume down, such that the demon had stopped trying to antagonize him with random conversation. Some of those dialogues had been as stimulating as those he had with Keldwyn, except Uthe had quickly realized the demon always had nefarious purposes for engaging him. Even knowing that, the demon’s methods were disturbingly effective, the creature using charm, threats and manipulations to weaken Uthe’s resolve and commitment.
John the Baptist had always spoken to him far less. Uthe had been awed by any contact, but over time he’d accepted the prophet was a man. An extraordinary, erratic man whose communications could often be so cryptic, Uthe suspected they were the ravings of a mind tenuously tethered to reality. Yet at other times, John was particularly insightful, and calm as a lake. He could still foretell things of import. He’d predicted the plague in Europe and World War II, but how could he not? He was trapped with a being fed off the evil spawned from the bowels of Hell or men’s minds—if there was a difference.
So the discovery of the head and the mission he’d accepted had isolated him once again. But that road took him back to the vampire world. After the Territory Wars that ultimately led to the current Council formation, he’d been called to a leadership role where, once again, he led and served. And he found balance once more.
Service was not submission. Being submissive was also not the same as submitting to a greater force. The Dominant nature of vampires was far more like the dominance of the animal world than the known structure of a BDSM relationship. A vampire might submit to another vampire if one proved his psychological or physical strength over the other. The “something” inside that would relent to the proper pressure, did. An alpha pack member would become a beta, only to become alpha again if the leader faltered.
Uthe frowned, staring out the window into the darkness. He wasn’t sure why he was cogitating so heavily about this when he had far more important things to resolve. Catching a movement out of the corner of his eye, he snagged the projectile before it bounced off his head. Opening his hand, he saw the maraschino cherry from Keldwyn’s mimosa. “We’re landing,” the Fae said. “You were thinking so much, I thought you might not notice.”
Uthe set the cherry on a napkin and used another to wipe the slight stickiness off his palm. “You could have stained my tunic.”
“I put it in my mouth and sucked it clean before I tossed it,” Keldwyn said casually. “But I’ve rarely seen a vampire caught off guard by a thrown object. You’re like cats, the lot of you. The slightest movement draws your attention.” Keldwyn gestured to the window. “Looks like we have a storm brewing. It’s not far to the nearest portal. There’s one inside the forest around the airstrip, and it shares the energy line with the portal at Council headquarters. We can cross here instead.”
“Sounds good,” Uthe said.
“I took the liberty of going through the pack you brought,” Keldwyn said brusquely. “While most things fashioned from this world won’t pass through the portal into the Fae world, because the Queen does not permit it, the sword is acceptable. I spelled them, compacting their matter much as I did the sorceress’s weapon. They’re contained in the pouch at your waist. When we reach the other side, if you have need of them, think your intent, and they can be drawn out fully restored.”
“Useful.” And impressive, though Keldwyn didn’t act as if it were of any more consequence than packing a suitcase. “So I won’t find an empty Diet Coke can lying in the grass on the Fae side.”
“Only the occasional stray golf ball. Sometimes the Veil can be thinner when it comes to innocuous inanimate objects. A slice at the right moment, on the right calendar day…” Keldwyn shrugged. “The small Fae enjoy playing with them.”
Keldwyn returned to contemplating his newspaper. Or brooding. It was hard to tell. Uthe shifted.
“My lord Keldwyn.”
The Fae Lord lifted his cool gaze to him again. Uthe met it without flinching. “It has been a long time since I’ve had an intimate connection with anyone. I spoke out of haste, and it was cruelly and awkwardly done. It was not meant as it sounded. I ask your forgiveness.”
Keldwyn’s mouth eased, his eyes warmed. Remarkably, Uthe’s tension, held in his lower belly, relaxed almost instantly. A sincere apology was its own magic, though it took some effort to work up to it on the front end. “Well said, my lord,” the Fae said. “But my condition still stands, if you thought diplomacy could get you out of it.”
Uthe grinned. “I never contemplated otherwise, my lord. A Fae changing his mind based on a vampire’s apology might be too much for the fabric of the universe to handle.”
Keldwyn snorted, spoke a phrase that Uthe was fairly certain translated to “smartass” in the Fae tongue. Then he returned to his paper.
Uthe brought his attention back to the window. Soon he would be in the Fae world, the true start to his quest. He had little idea where he was going or what he was doing. He only knew the head was in the Shattered World and he had a weapon intended to destroy the demon. But that was more than most quests had at the beginning, with very little to accomplish them but faith. He had all that, plus a Fae Lord as a companion. While disquieting in many ways, Kel would have his back in case of a threat. No matter how surprising that was, Uthe didn’t doubt it.
He picked up the cherry and tasted the sweetness of it, recalling the sweet heat of Keldwyn’s mouth. When he glanced over, only thinking in hindsight how what he’d done must appear, putting the same cherry in his mouth that Keldwyn had tasted, the look in Keldwyn’s gaze made it impossible for him to regret the impulse. The coolness caused by Uthe’s earlier stumble had definitely thawed.
“I would ask a favor, Lord Uthe.”
It was an unusual request coming from Keldwyn. “If it is mine to give, it is yours, my lord.”
“Your courtesy is a genuine pleasure, Lord Uthe, probably because it is never artifice. I know your quest is urgent, but going into the Shattered World…it is typical for those who enter to never emerge again.”
Uthe leaned forward, brow creasing in concern. “Then you will only accompany me to that threshold, my lord. If such loss is a certainty, I will not risk anyone’s life other than my own.”
“You misunderstand the favor, Lord Uthe. You will not be rid of me. I fully intend to go with you, for I serve not only your interests, but that of two Queens, and I will not disappoint either of them.”
Uthe didn’t think Keldwyn could be inspired by regal authority to do anything he didn’t want to do for his own reasons, but Kel presse
d onward.
“If you feel we can sacrifice a few hours in our journey, I would spend it with my ward, Catriona. She knows we are coming and is waiting for us. She would like you to join us for the afternoon. If we cannot dally that long, I can make it a shorter visit, but I would like the opportunity to see her before we enter the Shattered World.”
“Have you told her where you’re going?”
“No. It is not the first hazardous trip I’ve made. Catriona is aware of the risks my role carries. It is senseless to overdramatize every perilous task I’m assigned.”
Which meant this one was significantly more risky than others. Uthe nodded. “Of course we have time.”
In truth, his urgency could have more to do with his uncertain state of mind than anything else. The head had been in its current state for centuries and, all things being equal, could remain that way centuries more. But the ability to release two innocent souls to the heavens was finally now possible. And it seemed the demon sensed things were about to change, and was coming up with unexpected ways to throw obstacles in their path. However, the possibilities Keldwyn spoke of were far more certain, and Uthe would not deny him the chance to see a family member.
“I’m grateful.” Keldwyn settled back into a meditative silence. At least Uthe assumed he was meditating on other things, because the alternative was that he truly was reading about NFL draft picks. Uthe wondered if the Fae had sports. Most cultures did, but he couldn’t imagine what that would look like in the Fae world. Dragon races? Whose magic could hurl a boulder the farthest? He supposed he was about to find out about that and many other things.
His most indelible memory of the Fae world had been waking in the silver tower with Lord Reghan. Any other impressions were overshadowed by the tragedy of losing his fellow Templars in battle, and wrestling with the guilt of not being with them.
Lyssa had spoken of some of the things she’d experienced during her time there, but like most things outside one’s understanding, Uthe was sure it had to be seen firsthand for full appreciation. He discovered he was eager and curious to do so, especially now that he’d have an afternoon to simply absorb impressions of the Fae world. Another gift that Keldwyn’s stipulations had given him, though this one had been couched as a favor instead of a demand.
He felt a tickle of amusement, thinking of Evan’s reaction. Ever since the vampire Uthe had sired had found out that he and Keldwyn were spending more informal time together outside of Council, the young artist had been dropping not-so-subtle hints about getting into the Fae world for further inspiration. If Uthe returned, he’d be grilled endlessly for every detail.
It was a shame he’d likely never see Evan again, let alone be able to make that happen. But perhaps, if Keldwyn survived—and Uthe was going to do his best to make sure of that—Keldwyn would agree to give Evan a short tour as a last favor to Uthe.
The plane bounced down on the airstrip. The stewardess and pilot wished them good journey, and then they were off the plane, headed into the terminal. Keldwyn’s glamor among humans was always a seamless transition. While Uthe could still see his exceptionally beautiful appearance, the pointed ears and Fae clothing, the humans passing them in the terminal didn’t give either of them a second glance. He figured Keldwyn had cloaked them as nothing more than a pair of businessmen headed for the next meeting. Uthe was more fortunate than most vampires his age. Thanks to the permanent sun damage to his skin, and his dark eyes that masked the crimson flickers which could appear with blood lust, he didn’t have the preternatural look far more difficult for older vampires to hide. Lord Mason’s amber eyes were more tiger than human, and the aura of power around Lyssa couldn’t be disguised by a tsunami.
Once in front of the airport, they headed into the parking lot. Keldwyn indicated the tree line beyond the air strip, separated from them by a series of fences. Though the area was well lit, there were enough shadows for a swiftly moving Fae and vampire. “I expect we can both make it there without being seen. Shall we?”
Uthe made a noise of assent, then Keldwyn was gone, nothing to note his passing but a slight ruffle of wind across Uthe’s face. Uthe counted down like he did before his morning challenge to the sun, and then he, too, was gone. If any humans had been watching, which he’d made sure they hadn’t been, it would seem as if he’d vanished, but he’d simply moved as a vampire moved, faster than they could follow.
He arrived inside the tree line not even winded, which was reassuring. Keldwyn was sitting on a rock, and Uthe caught an unexpected expression of relief on the Fae’s face, as if he was drawing a breath of clean air after being in a cloud of smog. “It’s not as difficult for a high Fae to endure being surrounded by man-made things, but it’s still not comfortable, is it?” Uthe guessed. “It’s why you rarely sleep in our world.”
Keldwyn nodded. “I sleep, but it’s not restful. It’s like reposing on a bed of nails, surrounded by all the barriers you put between yourselves and nature. Your compartment was somewhat easier, with the cushion of earth, and our closeness.” At Uthe’s quizzical look, Keldwyn elaborated. “Nothing is closer to nature than life itself, Lord Uthe, so two beings twined together can also be a touchstone to the earth and the elements. Not that that was my only purpose for being there.”
“I am not a maid who needs reassurances for why you sought my company, my lord,” Uthe said. But, not wanting to commit the same casual cruelty he’d made earlier, he added, “I am glad I was able to bring you ease. Where is this portal?”
Keldwyn rose and stepped closer. He slid a hand over Uthe’s back, a gesture of casual affection. “This way,” he said.
He followed the Fae deeper into the woods. It was thick and tangled, wholly natural forest. Keldwyn found subtle trails through the undergrowth. At length, they were in a small clearing where a line of sapling trees followed a narrow strip of wet marsh. Uthe saw the clearing was a near perfect circle, and a ring of stones was arranged around it. Since some were half buried or set at angles, it looked random unless one examined them more closely.
“This portal hasn’t been used in some time, but it is close enough to the other it should work, especially with the presence of Rhoswen’s amulet. Pull it out now, my lord.”
When Uthe flipped open the pouch and complied, Keldwyn extended his hand. “Clasp my wrist and do not let go until I say. It will be disorienting but not painful.” He paused. “Have you been back since the Battle of Hattin?”
“Just the once when Shahnaz wanted Reghan to show me a glimpse of the Shattered World, but that isn’t very clear in my head. The first time was equally as brief. I vaguely remember the tower, some of the grounds around it.”
“Then it will be my pleasure to give you a better tour of my home this time.”
Uthe had seen the Fae move through the portal at the Savannah estate. Without a Fae guide, crossing the barrier yielded nothing but walking a few steps across the ground, but Uthe was certain that would not be the outcome today. Keldwyn pointed to Uthe’s dagger, scabbarded on his belt. “In the Fae world, you won’t need to draw on the dagger’s power. The sunlight there does not burn a vampire’s skin. The transition between worlds will be somewhat draining, though. You’ll require nourishment fairly soon after crossing the portal. I’ve arranged a safe human source for your feeding.”
That was a surprising revelation, and came with a stab of disappointment, since Keldwyn wouldn’t be that source. Uthe refused to let himself resent that the Fae could fuck him senseless but reject the intimacy of feeding. Few vampire lovers fed off one another after all, though their reasons were political, rather than distaste.
“Shed the boots,” Keldwyn directed. “Just drape them over your shoulders and they will go through, but the passage for a vampire is less jarring if your feet are in contact with the earth and water.”
Uthe complied. At Keldwyn’s gesture, he stepped into the wetter area of the marsh, taking a breath at the cold. Since only sparse sunlight filtered through during the daylight
hours, once darkness fell, whatever heat was caught there dissipated quickly. Keldwyn gazed down at his curling toes. “You have exceptionally wide feet, my lord. Unexpected. You could use those as shovels.”
“The sergeants used to threaten young Crusaders with them. ‘If you don’t listen, Brother Uthe will put his giant foot up your arse.’”
He’d not recalled that in some time. He could hear Manfred threatening it in his provincial French, amusement and true patience with those new soldiers hidden under the sarcasm. So many of them had known so little when they came to the Holy Lands.
“Sounds like a good threat.” Keldwyn passed his hand before him, a smooth parting motion, as if he were lifting a curtain. Everything stilled. The bird song, the fluttering needles on the pines and leaves on the maples, the energy of the earth itself. Uthe realized he couldn’t move. The water surrounding his feet and ankles seemed infused with more life, tingling and vibrant against his skin. The silence penetrated his mind and sank deep, a welcoming feel, not alarming. His eyelids were heavy as anvils. They fell shut, and then Keldwyn touched his arm. “We’re here, my lord.”
Uthe opened his eyes, his body relaxing into movement again. He was still standing in water, but it was no longer the marsh. The wide, free flowing stream meandered down a hill, turning toward the left to make a crescent, a natural bracket for a wide meadow and a stand of trees behind it. The forest climbed toward a castle that rose high above the tree tops, the earth-colored stone like the rocky slopes of a mountain.
The trees close to the meadow were laden with purple and pink blooms that glowed with a silver luminosity. Those same three colors floated through the air as motes, tiny specks like snowflakes. Others had more substance and more specific trajectories, which suggested the larger ones were insects or other beings adapting their appearance to the trees for camouflage. The meadow grass was the color of pale gold straw, tipped with fronds as delicate as swan feathers.