by Laney McMann
A little girl with silver barrettes in her hair smiled and set a cup at my side. The contents smoked and smelled of roses and fire, sweet butterscotch and mint, honeysuckle and something else.
Justice hit my hand, and I jerked, the cup clenched in my fist inches from my lips. He shook his head. I set it back down on the ground.
“Where is your mate?” Queen Asrai asked me. “Where is the other foretold Ancient Fire Born?”
I coughed again, trying to clear my throat, finding it difficult to concentrate. The damp earth soaked into my jeans. “He’s been taken by the Fomore. We believe he’s being held in the Shadow Realm. My grandmother, The Queen of Light, said perhaps, with your permission, we could cross through your realm. That you could point us in the right direction.” There was a hint of pleading toward the end of my sentence.
Her smile hardened. “I see. The Queen is a wise woman—a wiser ruler. Your aunt is neither. I was glad to hear your grandmother resumed her position.”
Okay …
“I did receive word of your coming.” She nodded toward Justice. “However, you seem to have been sent on a fool’s errand. The doorway to the Underworld is not one we frequent. I do not know the pathway. Nor will I allow you to cross our lands in your effort to find it.”
“I …”
“I would not be wise to ally myself, or my people, with any single race. In the times that come, it will be difficult to say who may rule the realms. The Tuatha Dé Danaan are not the reigning force, as some may believe.”
“We only need assistance.” Justice’s voice pitched up an octave, making him sound fourteen years old. “We aren’t asking for your allegiance.”
The Queen shrugged. “Perhaps you are right. Perhaps not. No one can say how the Fomorians might view my assistance, if I were to offer it, and they are not a race I wish to offend. There may come a time when my view changes—” She glanced toward me. “But for now, this is where the Fae stand. Better to keep our options open, you see?” She turned her head. “The Sea Merrows have been known, on occasion, to trade with some of the seedier species. They may know the way to the doorway.” She shrugged again with seeming indifference. “I cannot say.”
“Well, thank you for your time.” Justice pushed to his feet, sliding on the wet earth.
“The pleasure was mine. What offering have you for me today?”
“Offering?” I asked.
“I do not provide advice for free. A fee is always required for my service and my time. This is custom.”
“But you didn’t do anything.”
“I told you of the Merrows. You asked to speak with me, and speak with me you have. Payment is expected for both services.” Her smile remained innocent.
“What kind of payment?”
“Normally, one would come with a gift. Since you have not—” She glanced toward Justice. “Companionship. I require company.” She grinned.
Justice went rigid.
“You want Justice? For company?” Not sure why anyone would want him for companionship with his constant smart mouth, I shrugged.
“Layla!” His eyes were wild.
“What?”
“Splendid.” Asrai pressed her long slender fingers together over her chest.
“Layla …” Justice gritted his teeth. “You can’t just give me away.”
“What? I’m not giving you away.” I glanced at the Queen.
She chuckled, her gaze glued toward Justice’s sheet-white face. “Humans.”
“I’m not human.” Okay, that’s a weird thing to say out loud.
“You were removed from your realm—raised as a human,” Asrai said. “The payment I require is your friend. Not for an hour, or a day, but a lifetime. I need a mate.”
I raised an eyebrow. “A mate?”
“Of course.” Jaw set, her face paled further.
“You want payment for talking to you to come in the form of Justice? For a lifetime?”
Her mouth tightened into a straight, narrow, colorless line, and a hissing sound rose around us like a tidal wave about to break.
“That is correct, Teine, Princess of the Light World.” Her expression hardened further, the veins under her skin shining in purplish-blue lines.
“No way.” I shook my head.
The sound moved closer, as if a surge of water threatened to tear through the walls.
“Listen.” Justice spoke up, still on his feet. “I appreciate the offer. I mean you’re very … attractive.” He made an audible swallowing noise. “You are, but I can’t just live down here with you. We hardly know each other.” His voice cracked.
“It will not take long to change that.”
Justice’s face flushed a deep cherry red before draining entirely of color. “Why don’t we go out on a date?” he said, voice catching further. “After all of this is over? I can pick you up. We’ll go out.” Sweat beaded across his forehead.
“I would rather not wait. Patience is not a trait I possess.” She rose from her throne, and a rush of water fell down the front of her long dress, making the fabric cling to her legs, each of which ended in a webbed foot.
A soft, afraid sort of sound, like a yelp, escaped Justice’s throat.
“You do not object, do you? I hate to be disappointed.”
The sound of rushing water moved closer, and I realized it was coming from inside the walls, under the floor, over our heads. The croaking of toads silenced. The Fae children’s laughter ceased, and long pointed teeth cut over their purple lips. Cherub faces morphed into elongated canine-like heads, their cheery bright smiles from earlier turning savage. Justice moved directly in front of me and shifted into his monstrous gargoyle form, tall and unyielding. “This is getting a little crazy. We don’t want any trouble.”
“These walls will engulf you if my requirements are not met.” The translucency of Asrai’s skin increased, showing every vein running through her thin pale arms, across her neck and chest.
“We—only wanted directions—” Justice said.
I rose to my feet and raised my hands, palms up in the air toward the fae children surrounding the fountain, who were clearly not children at all.
Someone screamed.
“She has the Ancient’s Oghams!”
My gaze flew to my wrists where the brands rotated and stretched outward forming long, angry green lines up my arms.
Danger.
“No … I—”
The Fae began to bow as one. “We apologize. It was our mistake. Please be on your way.” The sounds of raging water stopped.
“I …” I glanced toward the Queen.
Her brow lifted, and her gaze roamed my body, cat eyes narrowing. “So, the Legend is true.” A crooked smile distorted her narrow face. “The Ancient Fire Born have truly risen from the ashes.” Her gaze moved toward my wrists.
I didn’t answer. So, you didn’t believe who I was before?
“I had hoped the Legend a myth—a fool’s tale.” She inhaled a deep breath and returned to her throne. “A vicious woman, your great-great aunt—”
My eyes narrowed.
She grinned in a self-satisfied way. “You do not know, do you?”
I didn’t respond.
She folded her slender fingers together. “Ancient of this world, or the world beyond, we wish no ill will with the fallen race. Do be careful on your journey. Not all in these realms are what they seem.”
“Thank you for your time.” Justice inclined his head before he yanked me by the arm, as I stood in shock, and marched us both back down the hazardous passageway toward the tiny doorway. “We appreciate everything.” He shoved me through the door as it rose high enough in front of us. “I’ll call you.” He put his hand up to his ear, mimicking the shape of a phone before shutting the door. Roughly pulling me down the blackberry-brambled pathway, he snatched his weapons off the ground and crossed the field into the woods. “Never again. Never, ever again. I hate faeries!”
“It wasn’t that bad. We got out
. If it weren’t for me, you’d be the next Fae King.” I grinned.
“Layla—” He eyed me, the muscles tightening in his jaw. “Which way to the ocean?” He huffed and stomped off.
“It’s the other way, Justice.”
He turned on his heel, mumbling curses under his breath, and passed me without a word.
15
Birds scuttled over the treetops as Justice and I continued through the forest, dusk settling around us.
“We’re walking in circles again,” he said, his steps slowing. “There’s no way we’re going to find the Merrows. And it’s getting dark.”
“I doubt they’d help, anyway. They always hated me.” The memory of Max and me running down the beach as kids, laughing, flew through my head, Max complaining that he didn’t want to see the water spirits. I’d replayed that memory over and over again for years, driving myself crazy, but it remained one of the only memories I’d kept after my mother washed me of them.
“What’s up with you?”
“I—nothing.” I wrapped my hand around the eternity bracelets on my wrist and squeezed. “Justice, why did the Fae react the way they did? I mean—when they saw the Oghams?” It had been eating at me.
“They’re nuts. All of them. You didn’t listen.” His tone had a bite in it.
Ancient of this world, or the world beyond, we wish no ill will with the fallen race, the Fae Queen had said. What does that mean?
“You saw.” Justice continued, trudging on through the underbrush with his head down. “They’re like savages if they don’t get their way. That’s when you see them for what they really are. What they truly are.”
I wondered why Benny’s fae form had appeared more like tinker bell when she’d shown herself to me—a bright yellow version. Maybe there were distinctions between the fae race. “Benny doesn’t look anything like they did.”
Justice kicked at the leaves covering the forest floor. “The Fae are a smoke and mirrors act. You see what they want you to see. Shape-shifters.”
I eyed him, and he glanced away.
“I’m tired. I’m hungry.” He rummaged around in the backpack. “Where’d all the snacks go?”
“You ate them,” I said, as a silence pressed in around us, and I grabbed the crook of Justice’s arm, pulling him to a stop.
“What now?” He yanked away, and at least a hundred large golden eyes lit up the forest like lanterns, glowing in the densely darkening foliage of the trees. “Not more of them.”
“They aren’t faeries,” I said under my breath, and took a step forward, away from him. “We are sorry to have walked across your lands. We did not realize.” I gave a clumsy sort of bow toward the tree line, trying to sound genuine and keep as many gold orbs as I could in view. Grabbing Justice by the arm again, I backed up beside him, slowly pulling him away.
A sound like a heavy sack of rocks hit the ground. And then another, and another. “The Princess comes to our Wood, and she knows who she is? She remembers?” The voice was nothing more than a low croak.
Turning around, I knew who stood behind me, and I smiled in what I hoped was a gracious way. The small woodland creature standing before me couldn’t have been taller than three feet and looked as if he had peeled himself off the side of a tree. Small spindly branches extended from the sides of his head like antlers, bright green leaves flourishing at the tips. His bare feet were covered in dirt and little clumps of yellow-green sprouts.
“Yes, I remember who I am,” I said. “I apologize for not making myself and my friend known. It has been a long time since I last walked this way.”
Justice eyed me with a ‘why-are-you-talking-like-that?’ look.
I continued smiling, knowing it was the only way we would be leaving the Wood of the Tree Nymphs in peace. Like the Merrows, they hated Max and me. Although we had probably only been seven or eight years old at the time, I doubted they’d forgotten how we threw sticks up into their nests and teased them, only to run through their lands laughing hysterically. Not a proud moment. I continued smiling, trying to contain my surprise at another recollection.
“You have grown, Princess. We have not forgotten you.” The tree nymph’s tone had only the slightest hint of spite. “Why do you cross our lands?”
“My friend and I are searching for the doorway into the Underworld.” A whistling sound blew through the trees, accompanied by a strong hot wind. “The Fomore have taken Max. I mean … MacKenzie,” I stammered, trying to get my words out faster. “You remember him?” I hated to bring up Max’s name, but I had no choice. Dryads had a knack for sensing liars. “We believe he has been taken to the Shadow Realm.”
“We remember your counterpart. He is with his father, where he belongs.”
I gritted my teeth, abandoning my formal speech. “He doesn’t belong there. He was taken against his will.”
The sound of a hundred falling logs dropping to the forest floor rumbled the ground under my feet. I breathed in deeply as a rustling sound grew louder. “I only need to cross,” I pleaded. “You’ll never see me again.”
The Tree Nymph held up his hand, and the noise halted. He stared at me for a long time without speaking. “It was never the boy’s place to live among us. A grievous mistake your father made, binding you to the Fomorian.” His tone remained even. “The Demon Gods have no place in our world.”
Demon Gods? I glanced at Justice.
He averted his gaze. “We just need to walk on through. No big deal. We won’t touch a thing. You’ll never even know we were here.”
The tree spirit behaved as if Justice hadn’t spoken, his gaze still focused on me. “Your friend—a lost cause he defends you for.”
Justice growled, and took a step toward the Dryad.
I squeezed his arm, halting him. “Please,” I said. “I know you hate me, but I have to find Max. I’m sorry for being mean when I was a little girl. It was cruel, and I’m not cruel. Please let us through.” The choke in my voice, the desperation I’d been able to bury by searching—feeling like I was helping in some way—let loose, and without warning streams of tears fell down my face.
The Nymph bowed his head in an uncharacteristic way. “When the Demon Gods wage war on our world, do not forget we are here. Our people cannot fight against the might the Shadows will bring.”
I bowed. “I won’t forget. Thank you.”
“What in the hell?” Justice grumbled, searching through the backpack beside me after we’d cleared the Dryad’s Wood.
“They’re just protective of their land.” I walked on, not paying much attention to him.
He is with his father where he belongs. The Demon Gods have no place in our world.
“Aha! Here they are. Crackers.” Justice’s tone went up an octave. “Finally.”
My feet crunched over dry leaves, and a shudder passed through me. The first glimpse of pure night penetrated the forest in a veil. The crinkling of plastic touched my ears as Justice ripped the crackers open, and with an abrupt lurch, as if a needle of a record player had been dragged across the vinyl in an ear piercing screech, all sound stopped.
Once again, we stood outside the gates of The City of the Dead. The ornate iron gate swung back and forth in a slow rhythm, a squeak adding to the sound as if someone had just entered the cemetery, or maybe as though it had been blown by a breeze. I faintly heard Justice muttering behind me before he stopped at my side, eyes wide.
“Why are we here?” His hand went to the hilt of one of the swords slung across his back, and he abandoned his crackers.
“I was going to ask you the same thing.”
Shadows loomed heavily, as night pressed in through the moss and overhang of tree limbs, further shading the ominous graves. A rustling sound caught my attention, and shapes moved between the tombs, long and narrow. They flickered like candlelight in the wind. Justice’s eyes squinted, his feet planted, and he put his arm out, nudging me behind him. The stench of something sickeningly sweet filled the air, and the crunch of
leaves under foot caused my head to turn to the right.
“Night Walkers.” Stepping backward, Justice pushed me gently, keeping an arm on mine. “I told you they’re the wardens of the graveyard,” he said in a whisper. “I knew they were real. Tristan swore they weren’t. Next time I see him—” He shook his head, still edging me in reverse. “If we leave in peace, maybe—”
A rush of wind swept past my face, and for a fleeting, desperate second I thought of Max, until a dart sank into the tree trunk beside me, inches from my cheek. The roughness of a stone talon scraped through my shirt and into my shoulder blade, as Justice shifted into gargoyle form and pushed me down into the underbrush. Another swoosh and the sound of a dart pinging off stone touched my ears. Steel scratched against steel, and I looked up as Justice let loose one of his ancient daggers. The garbled yell that followed assured me it had hit its target.
Justice yanked the sack off my back. “Run.”
I didn’t hesitate before I took off through the trees. More darts whipped through the air past my head as I wound through the forest, tripping on roots and slippery leaves. Justice fell in behind me, the rising moonlight giving us a dim view of at least a hundred Steed swarming the woods.
The Hunt. I’d hoped I’d never see them again after the attack at Max’s house.
Their hunched, birdlike, reptilian bodies tore through the undergrowth behind us like wolves honed in on a scent. That sickly, sweet smell had been them—the places where their rotting scales and flesh had refused to heal, leaving hanging bits of open, decomposing wounds. Branches cracked, high pitches, hoots and howls rent through the night, causing an eerie reverberation that rattled my bones.
As if on command, the Steed rose into the skies, leathery black wings muddying the moonlight overhead. In every direction, they surrounded us. My feet pounded the ground, breath coming in quick, panicked spurts. I can’t shift—can’t traverse.
Justice ran up next to me. A tree split our path, separating us, and as I glanced over, harsh angles contorted his expression. Fear. His gaze met mine. He would never be able to carry me in flight and fight off the attackers at the same time. He had to leave me alone.