by Claudy Conn
Every birthday I could remember, my dad (with my mom giggling at his back) would creep into my room in the early hours and sing ‘Happy Birthday’ in that booming voice he had—hers had been angelic and soft beside him. I would jump up and hug them both, and there was fanfare and laughter.
Later when I had moved on and was living the ‘college dorm’ life, the phone would ring at six in the morning with much of the same.
My dad was gone forever—final, done deal. No more birthdays with him treating me like the princess of the universe. My mom was drugged up on illusion, so I had no expectations of her remembering my birthday. My Daoine Fae relatives didn’t celebrate birthdays, so none of them would even realize …
My relatives on my dad’s side had all sent cards.
Some calls had already come in on my cell—I let them go to voice mail.
Suck it up, I told myself, you are behaving like a spoiled child. So I did, sort of …
I thought of his Royal Pain and wondered fleetingly what he was doing this morning. I hadn’t seen very much of him in the last two days. In spite of myself, I was curious about what he did and where he went off to. I wondered what his plans were. When he wasn’t lurking in the background, was he at Tir (Faery)? Or was he off killing Unseelie—holding out on me?
He had popped in on me when I was in the weapons room the previous day, and he had grumbled about my skills (or lack thereof). I thought my skills were, well, if I did say so myself, phenomenal, so I was surprised and insulted—he was always insulting me.
He thought I was a clumsy Fae oaf.
He said I dove when I should have glided.
He said I charged when I should have reconnoitered.
He said I didn’t have a clue about how to use my Daoine Fae powers to advantage, and he said I was pedantic and zeroed in on only one thing, and that one thing kept me in a combustible state, which would get me killed.
He said I was all about the heat of the moment …
I said he just hated me and couldn’t see how skilled I really was.
The day before, however, he had taught me a couple of things—although I was not about to admit that to him.
At any rate, it was my birthday, and I meant to celebrate—my way.
Showered and my hair brushed … and I was pleased with the way the shiny black framed my face. Now, all I had to do was fluff my hair with my hands … yeah, just like that.
Slipped into my sleeveless V-neck black sweater, squeezed into my stretch black jeans, pulled on black socks, black sneakers, and a soft, nicely fitted black jacket. Get the picture? No? You will.
Yeah—I was ready to do a little killing. Black was to hide the blood and the goo of the Dark Fae I was going to eliminate. They were becoming a problem in Inverness … and I liked to think I was a problem solver. At the very least, I was honing my skills to take on Gais.
One of my self-appointed jobs those last couple of weeks was to drive into Inverness and hunt Unseelie. They were monsters killing humans. The first to go had been the poor homeless.
I had a couple of cars at my disposal, but I was comfortable with my good old army-green Jeep. I loved it. It got me where I was going and was exactly what I needed to get off road when I had to. Good machine.
Inverness was just a little more than an hour’s drive, and what I had been doing was all part of my greater plan.
I’d discovered a couple of weeks ago that Unseelie Drones had started touring the streets of Inverness in search of unsuspecting humans. They fed on them. They sucked the life out of them and left a hulk of skin and bones when they were done. What was left of the human they had fed upon was nothing more than an ‘aspergillis’, a perforated, empty container …
Last week when I drove into Inverness, there had been only a few Unseelie, only a very few. Things had changed.
Now as I drove into the outskirts of the city, I immediately spotted them in troops of three and four—mingling with the bustle of humans who were unknowing, unwitting targets. Humans couldn’t see through their Glamour … such as it was. The lower castes were not able to wield magic like their higher-caste Dark Fae.
Now as I drove, I felt the dark surge …
Somehow Gais was getting the Unseelie beasts out of the prison that had held them for eons. Somehow he had managed to permeate the city with their presence. Eventually the spike in the vicious murders would be noticed by the media, and a panic might ensue. I had to do something to both curtail this and get Gaiscioch’s notice. Oh yes, I wanted him to notice me. I wanted him to come after me.
I wondered just how he was managing to get them through the Prison Wall. Was he using some kind of portal the queen had not yet discovered?
Somewhere there had to be a rift in the magic fabric of the Unseelie Prison Wall. I didn’t know much about it, but I did know that only the lower castes were coming through … at least that was something.
Gaiscioch hadn’t found a way to remain in the human realm for any length of time. Nor could he free his Dark Princes or Morrigu, but left unchecked this could change. It was only a matter of time.
My guess was that he was using one of the dimensional mirrors created by the Fae long ago as a mode of travel between worlds and dimensions. For whatever reason, he must have been able to get his drones through, but not himself.
Mom had once told me that the queen of the Tuatha Dé, upon discovering the sacred mirrors had evolved into something ‘more’ than what had been originally intended, had purposely scattered most of the ones she had been able to find throughout our world. No doubt Gais had found one or two over the centuries.
So, what was I doing about it, you ask?
From what I could tell, more than what Danté, his Royal Self, was doing, let me tell you.
I searched out and found the Unseelie Drones, and I had been killing them. That was what I was doing about it.
However, as I mentioned before, I had to admit that Danté had taught me a couple of things about Danu weapons. Apparently the queen had appointed him as my ‘guardian trainer’ of sorts.
Nothing I could do about that, except for hide out or sneak off. For most of the day (when we weren’t training) I didn’t see him. He said the castle was impenetrable because of his ‘protection wards’. He was arrogantly proud of them, in fact. He said as long I was on MacDaun land, I was safe and he didn’t need to be in my face.
Fine—that worked just fine for me.
However, each day he insisted on these long training sessions. Fine … train me, I finally told him. Why not allow him to teach me everything he could about anything I could use …
Some of the death weapons had names and were infused with the potency to actually freeze their victims in place before they were used to kill. The ones that carried names, such as the Sword of Lugh, which belonged to Danté, although he said he had loaned it to someone named Shee Willow, had individual magical powers.
We hadn’t discovered what mine could do, but it was called the Sword of Lor. We knew that it could not miss its mark and not only killed the Dark Fae but disintegrated them as well. That was a good thing, as you couldn’t have all those monster bodies piling up all over the city. Yeah, from my perspective the sword was the real deal.
So like I said, I headed for Inverness with my sword—to hunt Unseelies.
I drove more slowly than usual—didn’t want to catch any undue attention, and I needed to scan my surroundings, pick my spot …
Every city had what I called ‘the dark streets’, some fewer than others, but they were there, quite in the open nonetheless—if you were looking, which at that point, I was.
A quick tour brought me to an area my dad would have yanked me out of so fast—had he been around, had he known, had Gais not murdered him.
I felt like cold, pure, driving steel looking for a target. Then I found one.
An Unseelie Drone just scarcely concealed by human Glamour was leading a woman down a narrow alleyway.
The drone’s face beneat
h the human façade was a mass of pustules. His mouth was huge and gaping with rows upon rows of gnashing teeth. His tongue was spiked, and he was leaning in towards the poor elderly woman.
I was on it in a heartbeat, righteous, sure, determined, and—I thought—in perfect harmony with my perfect skills. I would soon discover there were so many things I still needed to know …
At any rate, I parked my Jeep, and then I shifted while secreted in the Féth Fiada (cloak of invisibility). If the Unseelie looked my way, he would in fact see through the cloak, as all Fae Dark and Light can see one another through magic. He was too busy, too cocksure of himself, and too hungry to look. And at least I wouldn’t be seen by any human who strayed onto the scene.
My goal was to get to him before he saw me.
My weapon was held tightly in my fist. So far so good as I stepped out of the airwaves and raised my arm.
For fun, I put my hand on his (oh geez … yuck) shoulder in case he meant to shift away from me—we would be stuck together in the shifting zone.
I saw his large, bursting froggy eyes fill with surprise just as I thrust hard and fast!
Oh no … this one was a geyser of green and yellow goo, and it was splattered all over the place and all over me—on my face, in my eyes … oh yuck.
His body dropped in a slump of grotesque fluids.
The poor elderly woman couldn’t see me, but she could see him now in all his ugly monster glory slumped and leaking horribly on the concrete.
She screamed horrendously and ran. Hell, a part of me wanted to scream and run with her …
Later she wouldn’t remember. She would tell people some awful man tried to mug her but that she got away. She would sort it out so that she could be comfortable, put it away, and forget—almost forget all about it.
Other than the goop all over me, I was really pleased with my efficient kill. I took a second to flick my wrist, and goop gone. It was like instant shower—not as good, not as satisfying, but practical under the circumstances.
I watched the drone disintegrate, and then without warning, my weapon was out of my hands, and Danté was cursing in my ear and sneering in my face!
His grip was painful around my arm as he roared, “If I were Gaiscioch, you stupid, silly little Daoine, you would be dead at this very moment!”
With his other hand he consigned my death weapon elsewhere—I suppose back to the training room, because it vanished.
Shock took over. He had snuck up on me, and I had to admit to myself that I had left myself open …
I could have been killed, and what was so much worse, I would have to admit (at least to myself) that he was right—he had snuck up on me, which meant that Gais could have done the same.
Danté was a huge, pulsating mass of towering anger. I glared back at him and gritted my teeth. I was full of myself, and myself was full of defiance, but somewhere inside a tremor of fear had touched me …
How had this happened? I had not sensed Danté following me. I had not sensed him appear behind me. If it had been Gais, I would be dead … or worse, at the blackguard’s mercy.
I was momentarily bereft of speech. I felt my body undulate with humiliation, rage, frustration, and ultimately with youth’s pride. I had to admit to myself that Danté had even taken away my weapon.
I was ashamed and responded defensively. “I was saving that poor old woman … I was killing Unseelie …”
My answer triggered his anger anew. He was actually seething, foaming with uncontrolled fury. If it hadn’t been directed towards me, I would have freely allowed he was quite a magnificent sight to see.
Suddenly he was in control. His gold-dust eyes glittered with restraint, as did the stance of his body. His lips were tight, his jaw clenched and unclenched, and then he said on a low growl, “Is that what you think you were doing? For the glory of one—one measly kill … you set yourself up to be bloody well taken down. By Danu, you are a half-witted Daoine enfant—and how the queen thinks I should safeguard you is more than I can fathom. You are death waiting to happen!”
“Half-witted?” was what I got out of it, and then I suddenly didn’t care about who was right and who was wrong. I was full up to my cheeks with grief, with anger, with frustration, and it was my damn birthday! I exploded. “I saved that poor old woman, and I killed my target, Mr. Royal Hard Ass—which is more than your big warrior self is doing, playing nursemaid to a half-wit!”
He stopped and stared at me long and hard before he quietly said, “Daoine, you made yourself a target. You didn’t just take down an Unseelie—you gloried in it instead of watching your back. This time I was the one watching you. This time, I was the one who stalked you. This time it was I who took your weapon from you. If it had been Gais, he already would have run you through—that is not what my queen or I want.”
I didn’t have the opportunity to retort to this, and I was about to do just that, even though he was completely right and it was so totally my bad.
The next thing I knew his grip on my arm tightened to the point where I yelped and we were gone, moving together through space.
I closed my eyes. I didn’t know where he was taking me. I was pretty damn sure I didn’t want to go there. If I kept my eyes closed maybe this would all go away—maybe he would go away?
We were on terra firma, and I opened one eye. Nope. He was still with me, although he had loosened his bruising grip.
He pulled me ruthlessly against his rock-solid, muscular body. He was hissing between his teeth in a feral way that went right through me and actually made me shake in spite of all my resolves to stand bravely against him.
“Look around, Daoine enfant—watch your brethren as they move. Study them—learn from them.”
I looked around.
I was standing on sandy soil in the middle of what looked like an ancient Greek pantheon. It seemed larger than a football stadium. There were different sections, and in each were various Fae, both male and females, most of whom were (I gathered from the insignia torque each was wearing) Trackers—and really spellbinding to observe. They were engaged in mock sword fighting, jousting, javelin throwing, wrestling, and boxing.
Each Fae was serious, furious, and graceful, and it looked to me as though they were also synchronized as they engaged one another in mock battle. A Fae warrior would jab and move; the Fae at his back would step in to help and then shift off to help another. It was beautiful to watch.
Their movements were fluid and lithe, their purpose predetermined as individuals, and as a whole. Each had a plan for his/her own weapon. It was more, so much more than the might of the thrust. Each had a specific design of movement. Each Fae warrior had a strategy for withdrawal. Not one of the powerful Fae Trackers I was watching took anything for granted …
I saw it all in a flash of new dawning. That light bulb I had always heard about turned bright white in my head! By comparison I was nothing but a punk hoodlum street fighter, passable in a pinch, but if one of these Trackers were after me …? Well, I wasn’t so sure I would come out alive. Not good.
Danté still had me in his fierce, rough hold. I could still feel my body shaking with shame and defiance. The two emotions collided and rolled off me.
I pushed away from him, and I knew my lips were curled. “You have made your point.”
“Not yet, I haven’t,” he said as he stepped away from me. He put up his hand skyward and said something in old Danu. He was calling for his weapon. I was surprised when two long swords arrived. He gripped them as he held them out to me and smiled wickedly. “Now, Daoine child, choose one. Let’s see, shall we, just what you’ve got!”
~ Six ~
WHEN DANTÉ SHIFTED me off to Trackers’ Stadium in Faery (Tir), it had been Friday.
We had been there for three agonizing hours. I mean, brutal.
When we were done, I was so tired I couldn’t move. Nerves in my legs twitched with pain—heck, nerves on my nerves twitched.
I am immortal because of the elixir, b
ut the human in me takes much longer than a full-blooded Fae to heal.
I couldn’t let him see my discomfort, but when he put his hand on my arm and said it was time to go, I think I nearly collapsed into his arms. In fact, I think that, in the microsecond it took to shift from Faery to our world, I fell asleep.
All at once, I felt him positioning me in my car and strapping me in. I glanced around and noticed it was dark, and I mumbled through my tiredness, “Wow … look at the stars … must be close to midnight.”
He said on a low voice, “It is midnight … but not of the day we left here—it will be Sunday morning in another minute …”
That made me sit up, and oh, shouldn’t have done that. I ached all over, every inch, and I must have groaned because his Royal Self laughed out loud. “A few hours in bed and a hot tub are all you need—after all, you are Daoine. You will heal soon enough.”
I made a face at him. The human in me right now was hurting, and he had no sympathy whatsoever. Unfeeling, cold-blooded—I stopped myself on the thought that Friday was gone. Birthday—gone. Saturday was gone.
Time in Faery works way different than time in Man’s world, and there is no consistency to the way it ticks along. Life in Man’s world passes in the blink of an eye—it is no wonder the Fae (for the most part) regard humans as insignificant. Humans die after only living to what a Fae regards as an infinitesimal space in time. Fae—which is what I am—live forever … that is unless we get killed of course.
I thought about it just before my eyes closed. The fact that we could be killed was actually a good thing—it made life more precious.
The next thing I knew I was being lowered into my bed. I had the vague feeling that Danté had carried me into the house and up the stairs. Why hadn’t he just shifted us? Perhaps I had only dreamt that he lifted me into his arms and carried me he-man style up to my room?
“We will continue your training after you have had some sleep,” he said as he drew up to his full height and looked down at me. I was snuggling into my pillow. He bent and pulled the covers up to my neck just before he started to move away.