by R. A. Rock
That was certainly true. Tess could understand why he hadn’t told the whole story. Unfortunately, that made their mission a lot more difficult—if not impossible.
“But why would we go to your grandfather’s?”
“If there’s any way to get another pair, he’s one of the few people in Ahlenerra who would know how.”
“If there isn’t a way to get another pair...” She stopped speaking, not wanting to think about it.
“I know. The queen will not be happy.”
“That’s putting it mildly,” the Captain said. “So, what’s the deal with these blades, anyhow? They’re clearly magical.”
“Yes. And that makes them stronger than a regular blade. And, of course, like any other magical object, it exacts a toll.”
“And you keep them in an Otherworld sheath?” the Captain asked, blowing into the cup to cool it and then taking another sip of tea. “That’s how you were able to pull them from nowhere when we were fighting?”
Finn nodded.
“The Otherworld sheath keeps them safe from anyone who would want to steal them because they’re stored in the Otherworld and only I can take them out.”
“So if there isn’t another pair, then what are we going to do?”
“These blades were made especially by Perdira for my ancestor. And that’s why we need my grandfather. He may know how we could get another set.”
“You’re sure Perdira made them?” she asked, gazing at him with those startlingly blue eyes. The energy leapt between them again. “You are talking about Perdira, the Second Faerie to fall after the Dark Queen?”
“That’s what my grandfather told me,” Finn said, needing to tear his eyes away from her gaze but finding that he could not. He also couldn’t breathe. The moment stretched until finally the Captain looked away.
“Good enough,” she said, picking up a stick and poking at the fire. “We’ll head to your grandfather’s tomorrow.”
Sparks flew up and the coals glowed. Finn knew he needed to get his head on straight. This woman was big trouble.
And he had no business being interested in her.
Later that night, Tessa lay wrapped in her blanket as near the fire as she dared. Finn was sleeping on the other side of the fire, and she stared at him, unabashed, because she knew he didn’t know she was looking.
He was so damn handsome she almost couldn’t stand it. He had also shown himself to be intelligent and strong—and an excellent fighter. Not many could hold their own for as long as he had against Tessa.
She shouldn’t be attracted to him. She knew that. It was foolish and dangerous for him. The queen might kill Finn simply because Tessa showed interest in him. Ransetta had done so before—about two hundred years ago. Of course, the Dark Queen had forced the man into her bed and tortured him before she had killed him. That vile experience had been enough to keep Tessa from paying any attention to any man ever since.
And yet…
She studied his face. The black eye and purple bruise on his cheek gave him a rakish air, as if he were no one to be trifled with. She knew it was just an illusion. Most people underestimated her because of her pretty curls and blue eyes, because her face was dainty, like porcelain, and because she seemed small.
Tessa only came up to Finn’s chin.
And yet she was dangerous. She was a killer. She could kick anyone’s ass any day. She had nearly killed him.
Then her mind made the jump, and once she had thought it, she couldn’t unthink it.
What if Finn was stronger than he looked?
What if he was strong enough that Ransetta couldn’t kill him? What if she could dare to care about someone again because this one man was different?
She stopped breathing at the idea.
Then reality crashed in. That was ridiculous.
What would make Finn strong enough to defeat Ransetta? There was no one who could do that. Not even Tessa and she was the best warrior in the kingdom.
No. As long as she was a spy in the Dark Court, there would be no love for her. She ought to be used to the idea by now, but Tessa’s lonely heart refused to accept it. And there was nothing she could do about it.
She shivered and wrapped her blanket more tightly around her. Closed her eyes. And forced herself to sleep.
Tessa and Finn had ridden in silence for most of the day. Despite her attraction to the man, she didn’t trust him. And he certainly didn’t trust her. He even seemed to actively dislike her. This wasn’t a surprise. Most Fae did.
They assumed because she was the Captain of the Guard and the Dark Queen’s right hand that she must be as evil as Ransetta.
Of course, Tessa worked hard to preserve this image. And the Stars knew that she had done some terrible things. But it rankled that Finn didn’t know who she really was.
Not that she could tell him. Of course, she couldn’t tell him. But still it bothered her that she was deceiving him, and that was strange.
In all her time as a spy, she had never felt as though she were lying. She always thought of being a spy as playing a role—like an actor. Actors in plays weren’t lying. They were pretending in order to entertain. Tessa was pretending in order to protect. It had never felt like lying.
Until Finn.
It felt like she was lying to him, which was ridiculous because technically, she was lying to everyone. And yet with Finn, it seemed worse. Tessa didn’t understand why she felt that way, which made her cranky.
She knew it wasn’t going to work like this. They would never be able to get the blades if they were enemies. But she couldn’t bring herself to talk to him. She was still angry about having to leave the Dark Court and her position as Captain of the Guard to go on this stupid quest. For these stupid blades. That would probably cause more trouble for her because now she would have to prevent yet another attack on the Light Court.
Tessa knew that the Stars had a purpose for her life that she knew nothing of. But she honestly couldn’t imagine how getting these silly blades would be of any use to her whatsoever. It was hard to trust in the Stars’ guidance when it seemed they were leading her so far off her path.
Speaking of paths, Finn had taken one to the right, and she pressed into her horse with her left knee. It followed the path, which led up a hill. When they finally crested the ridge, Finn was sitting there, gazing at the beauty that lay before them in the warm afternoon sunlight.
“Oh, Stars above,” Tessa said in a hushed tone. “Is this The Valley? Is this your home, Mr. Noble?”
A patchwork of fields spread out before them, each one a slightly different shade. Here and there, trees dotted the land in clumps or sometimes in lines to function as windbreaks. There was a hush over the place, a peace that reminded Tessa of her own home on the other side of the Chasm. Gazing at The Valley made her think of hot cider, roasted chestnuts, and quilts wrapped around her on a snowy day. It felt safe.
She was jolted out of her reverie by Finn’s voice answering her question.
“This is The Valley, but it’s not my home. My home lies to the east. But I did spend every summer here with my grandfather, so it’s the closest to home that I can get.”
He spoke with such sadness behind the words that it almost made Tessa choke up. And she so didn’t cry anymore. What could have happened to him that just thinking of home brought such sadness, she wondered. Then she answered her own question.
Ransetta. The Dark Queen was the person most likely to be the cause of his woes. No doubt.
“Where is your grandfather’s cottage?” Tessa asked, hoping to take his mind off of whatever old pain he was reliving.
“There,” he said, indicating with a nod of his head a cottage off by itself in a corner of The Valley. “We should go. Come on.”
They reached the cottage and dismounted fairly far away, leading their horses to a stable where Finn tied them off.
“I’ll come take care of them as soon as we’ve greeted my grandfather.”
The cottage
door banged open, and Tessa and Finn both turned.
“Finn.” An old man that she assumed was the grandfather stumbled a little in his haste to get to his grandson. He had a huge grin on his face and gave Finn a hard hug, then kissed his cheek. “Finn, you came to see me. At last.”
The old man matched The Valley. He looked strong and deeply rooted—safe. His hair was white and tied back with a piece of leather. He had brown eyes that sparkled as he gazed at his grandson. And though he was clearly very old, his body seemed hale, as if he could still pitch hay alongside the young men.
Tessa watched this reunion with interest. She had to admit, the more she learned of Finn Noble, the more curious she became, in spite of her desire to remain aloof.
The old man had tears of joy on his cheeks. Finn was well loved.
Finally, the old man let him go, and he turned toward Tessa.
“And who is this lovely lady? Are you finally bringing someone home? After Emmy’s death—” He cut himself off as he caught sight of the look on Finn’s face.
Oh, Shadows take me, his sweetheart died? That’s horrible. And what if Ransetta had a part in it? That’s worse.
“This is the Captain of the Guard,” Finn said, his face closing down as he looked at her. And the old man’s face, too, lost its smile. “Tessa Callahan, I’d like you to meet my grandfather, Nathaniel Noble.”
Tessa lifted her arm, her hand in a fist, waiting for him to give her the customary forearm bump. The old man didn’t lift his own arm, a clear insult to her. She dropped her own, feeling the temperature in their small group turn frigid. Tessa swallowed, trying not to be bothered by his hatred. It didn’t matter. Everyone hated her. What was one more?
“Ransetta’s right hand,” Finn’s grandfather said, and all the interest and happiness that had been on his face disappeared.
Tessa hardened her heart. She didn’t care what these people thought of her. They knew nothing of who she was.
“That’s correct,” she said, her tone curt, her words clipped. “Your grandson and I are working together for a few months. That’s all.”
“Ah,” the old man said, and he gave Finn an indecipherable look. “Why don’t you take care of the horses and then come in for some tea and you can tell me all about it?”
Chapter 8
Finn’s grandfather’s cottage was cozy and made Tessa feel comfortable and at ease. She didn’t like that. The Light Court was her home. Finn and his grandfather hated her. Why would she feel contented here? It didn’t make sense.
But she did. She couldn’t deny it.
So she ignored it.
Clearly, the old man had been starting to prepare his supper. Potatoes and rutabagas lay on a wooden cutting board, where a knife had been set down as if the person chopping had been interrupted in the middle of the task. Also, a kettle was just beginning to boil on the hearth.
“Where have you been, boy?” the old man asked as he set the pot of tea on the table. Then he went back for cups and a plate of bread and butter.
“Oh, here and there,” Finn said, giving Tessa a sideways look. “You know I like to travel around, Grandfather.”
“Yes,” the old man said, giving him a serious look. “You do. Well, now you do, anyway.”
That made Tessa wonder even more about this man that sat beside her. The curiosity was starting to make her a little crazy.
“So, why are you here?” Nathaniel asked, sitting down at the table. He poured tea into the cups that were well worn but spotless and pushed the plate of bread toward Tessa. She took one slice and bit into it. It was soft and chewy. Delicious. The old man might have been rude to her but, stars alive, could he bake bread.
“No one’s seen you in five years, Finn. You’re here for a reason.”
Finn nodded and reached under his arms, pulling out the blades. A bit of energy pulsed out from them, even when he was only taking them out. Finn’s grandfather gazed at them, completely unsurprised.
“The Unity Blades,” Nathaniel said, his white eyebrows lifting toward his hairline. “That’s what this is about?”
Finn nodded again. “The Dark Queen wants to know where you got them,” he said, cutting his eyes over to Tessa and then returning his solemn gaze to his grandfather. The old man frowned and stood up abruptly, spilling everyone’s tea when he bumped the table.
“No,” he said, his eyes burning. “I won’t tell you that. The Dark Queen shouldn’t have even one pair of those blades.”
He thumped his fist on the table to punctuate his words and more tea sloshed out of the cups. Tessa pressed her lips together, thinking of how many blades the queen actually wanted.
“Grandfather,” Finn said, a slight pleading in his tone now as he stowed the blades again. “You know I wouldn’t ask this of you if I had a choice.”
Finn’s grandfather twisted sideways and studied his grandson. Then he narrowed his eyes at Tessa.
“What are you threatened with?” He asked Finn the question, but his eyes never left her face. She returned his stare, refusing to look away before he did.
Finn’s voice was quiet when he answered, and the tone he used made Tessa and Nathaniel look at him.
“We will both lose our lives if we don’t return with another pair of blades, Grandfather,” he said. She wondered why he would include her. He didn’t have to. And it made the old man turn to study Tessa again, a little surprise on his face.
“Stars above,” he said, meeting her eyes. “We are all pawns in Ransetta’s game, aren’t we, Captain of the Guard?”
“Indeed,” Tessa said, never looking away from his piercing gaze. “And the price of losing is usually death.”
“Well, you would know,” the old man said to her with a slight shrug.
Then Nathaniel turned back to his grandson and put his hand on Finn’s shoulder, where he still sat at the table.
“If you truly do not have a choice, Finn, then I will tell you what I know of the blades.”
Finn’s heart was pounding. His guts were twisting. He hadn’t thought that coming to see his grandfather would be so upsetting. And he definitely hadn’t thought that his grandfather being unkind and suspicious of the Captain would make him want to protect her.
The man who had helped to raise him was wringing out a cloth to clean up the spilled tea, and Finn drew a deep breath, searching for control over his emotions and taking in the smells of his childhood. The sweet scent of the tea laced with honey. The spicy odors of the sausages hanging from the ceiling. And the pungent scent of the herbs that were tied to a convenient beam that ran right over the kitchen. This place had always seemed so safe to him. Even now, with so much looming over his head, he could feel the peace starting to sink in.
When he had told his grandfather of the stakes, he hadn’t needed to mention that her life was on the line, too, but he had. Why? He wasn’t sure. But it had felt like the right thing to do. He didn’t know this woman and didn’t really want to. But his life depended on the two of them coming back with the blades. Both of them coming back with the blades.
And for that, he needed his grandfather’s help.
So, that was why he had done it. Not because he wanted to help her. That would be ridiculous. She was a servant of the Dark Queen. She couldn’t be trusted. And she was extremely dangerous. He needed to keep her at arm’s length.
His grandfather wiped the spilt tea and sat down once more, joining Finn and the Captain at the table. The old man was silent a long time before he began to speak.
“All I know is the story that has been passed down to me. I told it to you a long time ago, Finn, when you were younger.”
“I remember, but I want you to tell me again, in case I might have forgotten some parts.”
Finn wondered if this visit to his grandfather was really necessary. Maybe Tessa had been right. He knew the story. He could have avoided coming to see his grandfather. He had come because he so desperately wanted to see his family again. Anyone in his family. He had been
selfish, and he suddenly worried that he had put his grandfather in danger for nothing. But his grandfather began to talk, and Finn tuned in, ignoring his distressing thoughts.
“Right. I don’t know if it can help you, but I’ll tell the story in as much detail as possible.” He took a drink of tea and then spoke. “The Unity Blades have been in our family since just after the Severance. Our ancestor, the one who received them, was called Maddock.”
He pronounced it “ma-dock”, and Tessa knew it was one of the ancient names.
“Why are they called The Unity Blades?” Tessa wondered aloud.
“The blades work together in a unified fashion,” Nathaniel explained. “They were also created to unify Ahlenerra.”
“Unify Ahlenerra? What do you mean? How?” Tessa said, a wrinkle between her eyebrows. “I didn’t think that was possible.”
“The blades were made to kill the Dark Queen, as you will see when I tell their story. But they are also part of a spell that will end the Severance.”
Tessa tried to take in that idea.
End the Severance.
The Severance and the Chasm that split Ahlenerra in half to create the Seelie and Unseelie courts were such an ingrained part of every Fae’s life that it was a real stretch to imagine one unified Fae land. There hadn’t been such a thing for thousands of years.
“That’s… surprising,” she said, still struggling to wrap her head around the thought. “But I’m sorry, I interrupted. Please continue.”
Nathaniel gave a dignified nod and began to speak once more.
“My ancestor, Maddock, was one of the original Fae. He was one of the stars that had fallen when the King had sung them down from the sky. The stars that became the first Fae. After the Severance happened, Maddock abhorred the Dark Queen, as most of the Fae back then did.” Finn’s Grandfather used that particular emphasis for the Captain’s benefit, no doubt. “He had searched all of the Unseelie lands for something that could kill her but had found nothing.”