by Ann Gimpel
Raene waited. A threshold had formed for Aegir, and he’d stepped through. Despite power swirling around her, no gateway showed itself. She reached deeper, threw more magic into the mix. The gray day faded to darkness, and her belly tightened with fear.
Had she done something wrong?
If she reeled in her magic, could she undo it, or had her spell reached the point of no return? Something with black feathers and a sharp beak flitted past the edges of her peripheral vision, followed by an even larger scaled creature. Feeling spooked, she cut the flow of power, but nothing changed.
She’d entered what looked like a no-man’s land. No nice, clean, shiny portal for her. Raene dunned herself for a fool. Aegir had made it look easy, but magic was unique to the wielder. The same spell from her had yielded different results.
So different, she had no idea where she was. The stretch of rain-swept beach was gone as was the island dotted with scrubby bushes, driftwood, and rocks. A tunnel formed before her. Long, dark, and daunting, it was her only choice. To make certain, she turned in a full circle. Walls hemmed her in on every side but one. She didn’t trust they were real, so she touched one. It smoked beneath her finger but didn’t give way. She’d been hoping her hand would punch through, proving it was only illusion.
The magic that had her in its grasp was an independent entity. She’d withdrawn her own power a few minutes before, and it hadn’t made a whit of difference. “Steady,” she said out loud to calm herself. It didn’t have much of an effect. Facing the tunnel, she took a deep breath and blew it out before stepping tentatively forward. The path beneath her feet was solid.
A single note sounded, followed by another. The notes formed music she could see in the darkness. A riot of musical runes in every shade of the rainbow drew her forward. She did her damnedest to hang onto her sense of outrage and caution, but the tune had a hypnotic effect, calming in a weird way.
Black shaded to daylight, and the tunnel fell away traded for a verdant landscape. Sun shone warmly in a blue sky dotted with fluffy clouds. The British Isles occasionally looked like this, but not often. She was still wrapped in the length of woolen blanket Aegir had given her. Beneath its folds, she started to sweat.
It was tempting to leave the blanket. More than tempting. She unwound it and discovered a skirt and blouse loomed from undyed cotton. Where had they come from?
“Och, and let’s focus on the important part, like where I am,” she muttered.
Raene folded the blanket and stood with it in her arms. If she laid it down, would she ever find it again? She placed it on a flat stone and set magical markers. If they worked properly, they’d guide her back to this spot. A flock of birds, black with mottled grey across their breasts, flew past chittering like mad things. Two squirrels chased each other up a nearby tree.
A quick scan told her she was in a forest, one where the trees were old. It meant she’d either left the UK entirely or traveled backward in time to when trees grew thickly across Scotland from the Irish Sea to the North Sea.
She shook herself from head to toe. She should be petrified, frantic to return to the small island in the Orkney chain where Aegir lived—and she’d left her pelt—but curiosity won the day. The earth beneath her bare feet was warm, soothing. Power flowed into her, thick and sweet as honey. Had she stumbled into Arcadia by accident? Did the enchanted land present differently to different magic wielders? It made sense. If one of its purposes was to heal wounds, it followed that not everyone would seek the same absolution.
Raene pressed forward. She should be hysterical, working her arse off figuring out how to return to where she’d concealed her pelt, but worry and her current situation were incompatible. She couldn’t worry here, and she wasn’t certain whether to laugh or cry about it.
The music that had drawn her still played. She couldn’t see the glowing runes any longer, but the melody had morphed from single notes to a fully complemented orchestra. She stopped at a babbling brook, crouching by its banks long enough to cup water into her hands and rinse her face. A quick taste told her the water was pure and sweet, but she hesitated before drinking. In some enchanted worlds, drinking or eating anything bound you there. She had no idea how she knew, but she was fairly certain wherever she was held no malevolence toward her.
Nothing obvious, anyway.
“I have to remain alert,” she lectured herself before swallowing several mouthfuls of water from the rushing creek. If she was wrong about the eerie world being harmless, she might have sealed her fate and made it impossible to leave.
She tried to make herself care but didn’t get very far.
Time became meaningless as she wandered in and out of thick, ancient tree boles. The magic surrounding her was clean and older than the beginnings of the world, though how she knew remained one more of today’s many mysteries.
An even bigger one was why she wasn’t trying harder—or at all—to find a way out.
Something Aegir had said rattled in the back of her mind. He’d been summoned to deal with dark power, but how could evil gain a toehold in a place like this?
Maybe this wasn’t Arcadia. Perhaps she’d been transported to her own private Eden, a spot she might never leave. The music swelled, but this time she didn’t pay attention to it.
“I can’t stay here forever,” she announced to a passing group of buzzing bees. They kept right on flying.
Her head seemed clearer. She visualized where she’d left the blanket and turned back the way she’d come. Less than twenty steps brought her to the flat stone with the blanket folded on top of it. Twenty steps, when she’d taken hundreds moving through the forest. It wasn’t possible, not in a world where physics principles applied, but anything was possible here.
She should have been alarmed. Instead, a sense of peace filled her. She hadn’t been at one with the world in a long time. Maybe not ever. Wrapping the blanket around herself, she held an image of the spot she’d left on Aegir’s island. It formed with no fanfare at all. No discernable magic. No dark tunnels. No floating runes.
One moment, she was in the blue-sky world. The next Scotland’s ever-present rain pelted her head and shoulders.
Aegir was perched on a rock, regarding her. “Better?”
“I didn’t know anything was wrong,” she sputtered, “but, yes, I’m better.”
He angled his head to one side. “Ye’ve courage, lass. Ye might have waited for me to return.”
“I might have,” she agreed and drew the blanket more tightly around her. The clothing that had proven so useful in the other place had disappeared. “Was I in Arcadia?”
“Of course. Where else might ye have gone off to?”
“I have no idea,” she said a bit stiffly, wondering if he was making fun of her.
“Would ye care to learn the proper incantation? One matched to your energy?”
Heat moved from her chest over the top of her head. “Guess the one you used isn’t an all-purpose casting,” she mumbled.
“I was in a hurry. It was the fastest way to move me where I needed to go. The Druids had already reached for me, so I borrowed from their residual energy to teleport.”
Raene made a face. “I’m surprised it worked for me at all.”
“Arcadia sensed your need. And so it allowed you entry. Magical realms are picky about who crosses their borders.” He paused to take a measured breath. “I told you earlier, each person’s experience is unique. Give it a day or two afore ye assess what happened to you.”
She remembered why he’d left her. “The Fae and Witches, did they stop whatever they were doing?”
“Permanently.”
Raene opened her mouth to request clarification, but if Aegir and the Druids and other Shifters had killed the miscreants, she didn’t want to know. She settled for saying, “But it’s so peaceful there. How could anyone sustain dark magic in such a place?”
“Easily—if their hearts were bound to evil to start with. But it did require several of them
consolidating their wickedness to create an incident.” He jumped off the rock and crooked two fingers her way. “Come with me. We’ll complete the lesson I’d began when I was called away.”
Raene fell into step next to him. “I didn’t see Druids. Or anyone at all. Just birds and animals.”
“As I said, lass, Arcadia bends itself to your energy. If ye’d required Druid support, they’d have found you.”
She held silence, falling behind Aegir as the path narrowed. When they got to the island’s high point, he halted and pointed at an oblong mound between two standing stones. “This is the easiest entry point.” He focused his gaze, now more blue than green, on her. “I realize I dinna come this way, but as I said, I rode Druid energy past the barrier. ’Tis thicker there, but not impossible to cross. This will be easier for you because ye already found your way.”
“It was more like it found me.”
“Aye. It tuned in to your need. Come stand just here.” He scribed an X in the wet dirt with a small rock. The skies had made a full commitment to rain, and it sluiced down his body, making his clothing cling to the muscles she’d known were there.
Raene stopped looking at him and complied, positioning herself in the indicated spot.
He continued in the Selkies’ tongue. Sweet and lyrical, it commanded the veils to part while promising she would hold Arcadia’s secret, never revealing its presence to anyone unaware of its existence.
“But you disclosed it to me,” she murmured.
He broke off the incantation long enough to narrow his eyes at her. “Aye. ’Tis my right as Selkie king to do so.”
She absorbed the remainder of the incantation—the one matched to her energy—in silence, memorizing the words. It wasn’t difficult, almost as if they wanted to be inscribed in her mind.
Aegir swept one hand up and to the side. “Try it now, while ’tis still fresh in your head.”
“Is there a special way to return?”
“Ye seem to have managed it.” He offered half a smile.
“Aye, but I managed to get there too, and with a very different spell than what you just taught me.”
His smile broadened incrementally. “Good observational skills.”
She didn’t bother to tell him those same talents were essential to what she did for a living. “You didn’t answer my question.”
“The way back shows itself to you when Arcadia is satisfied ye’re done there.”
“Come with me. I’m curious if it looks different when you’re there.” Raene winced at her forwardness. The man across from her was a king. Surely, he had better things to do than play companion to her. “Sorry,” she mumbled. “That was presumptuous of me.”
Before he could reply, she began the incantation he’d taught her. The same gateway she’d noticed earlier formed; she stepped through. No dark tunnels. No dancing runes. No music. Not yet, anyway. It was as if she’d stepped directly from the obscure island in the Orkneys into another world.
The place she stood looked different from where she’d been before but smelled the same. Water still dripped from her face and the ends of her soaked hair. Arcadia’s sun was welcome. A flash and a shining spot off to one side shaped itself into Aegir.
Her face grew warm, and she looked away. “You didn’t have to come with me.”
“What if I appreciated the opportunity to act as your guide?” He raised one dark, arched brow.
A pleased feeling fluttered behind her breastbone. She peeked beneath the blanket. Sure enough, the same skirt and blouse were there. She removed the blanket, folding it. “Last time, I left this and set magic to indicate its location.”
“Caution is never wasted.”
“Where did the clothes come from?” She placed the blanket on another convenient rock and added a much more subtle magical marker.
“As I said. This place senses what ye require.”
“So if I were hungry or thirsty—?”
He nodded at her unfinished question. “It meets all your needs.”
She shoved her hair behind her shoulders. “Does anyone ever just decide to stay?”
“Aye, but Arcadia willna allow it. The only permanent residents are the Druids.”
She wanted to ask why, but it was one of those questions that probably didn’t have an easy answer, or even one at all. Aegir started walking. She caught up with him. The countryside was verdant, just like Scotland. Birds chirped, and small rodents chittered out of direct view.
Raene opened her magical senses, not wanting to miss anything. A layered view spread in front of her third eye. Timeless power anchored this place, magic so ancient it had probably been part of the making of the world. “This has always been here,” she murmured.
“Always,” he agreed.
A sense of rightness flowed from the dirt beneath her feet like a tide of warm nectar. Occasionally, she sensed different energies, but they faded nearly as quickly as they appeared. “We’re not the only ones here.”
“There are others,” he confirmed.
“Why can’t we see them?”
“They are here to heal.”
She remembered her earlier visit. She’d been alone then. “Where are the other entry points?”
“Now that ye’ve been here, ye’ll sense them. They have a particular pull, but only when ye need to be here. There is only one Arcadia, and many who wield magic.”
“How come I never knew about this place?” She stopped walking and waited for him to turn to face her.
“The same reason the Selkies dinna know about you. Ye’ve chosen to live as human.”
She squared her shoulders. “I approached your pod after a long stint without my skin. I got the distinct feeling I wasn’t welcome.”
“We can be an insular lot.” He pressed his lips together. “Mostly, a strange Selkie is cause for alarm. Pods keep to themselves. Occasionally, a rival pod tries a coup, and the first sign is a Selkie we don’t know. Rather like a scout getting the lay of the land.”
“I had no idea.”
“Of course not. Your mother was part human, aye?”
Raene nodded. “Half. She fell in love with a Selkie, and I was the result.”
“We mate for life. How is it ye only just recently discovered your father’s name?”
“He already had a mate.” Raene rolled her eyes. “Guess infidelity isn’t common with the Sea Folk.”
He drew his dark brows into a thick, disapproving line. “Damn near unheard of. We have strict penalties for such things.”
“I found that out too.” She sucked in a tight breath. “My mother was waiting in the place I keep my skin. For a long time. Long enough, the magic from my pelt was the only thing keeping her alive.”
Understanding flickered across his expressive features. “That was the sadness I sensed in you.”
“Aye. She died in my arms, after telling me about my father. Apparently, he put a type of geas on her. One that would have meant her death if she’d revealed his identity.”
Aegir fisted a hand and punched the air in front of him. “I canna even begin to list how many ways that was wrong of him.”
Raene shrugged. “Maybe so, but I want to find him, anyway. No magical threats are hanging over my head.”
Two men in dark robes sashed with colorful bands shimmered into being. Raene assumed they must be Druids. Both were tonsured with sharp-boned faces. Reprimand shot from their eyes. “We just balanced her energy,” the blue-eyed one said, directing his words at Aegir.
The Selkie king bowed. “I have not undone your work. The disturbance ye felt in Arcadia’s energy came from me.”
“Not entirely,” the brown-eyed Druid corrected him. “Some of her sorrow has returned, accompanied by anger.” He turned his attention to Raene. “Do ye require more healing?”
“No. Thank you for asking.”
Aegir bowed. “Apologies for disturbing the energy flow. Raene and I will continue our conversation back on Earth.”
“D
oona go far,” the first Druid cautioned.
“We’re not certain our earlier…problem is completely resolved,” the other Druid added.
Aegir drew back. “Of course, ’tis. They’re dead.”
“Other complications have surfaced.” Without explaining further, the Druids faded from view.
“Damn it.” Aegir turned and walked back the way they’d come, moving at a much faster clip.
Raene visualized where she’d left the blanket and beat him to the clearing. She’d just draped the length of wool around herself when he showed up. “Nice use of magic,” he said.
His approval warmed her, and she took a chance and scanned him with the power she’d already summoned. He, too, carried an undercurrent of sorrow. It might have been why hers was so apparent to him. She waited until he’d parted the barrier and they were on the other side to blurt out, “What happened to make you unhappy?”
“Doesna matter.” His features developed a shuttered look, but he didn’t deny her assessment.
She started to place her hands on her hips, but it wasn’t compatible with the blanket, so she settled for crossing her arms over her chest. “I talked with you.”
“So ye did.” His soft words were at odds with the furrows marking his forehead. Aegir’s head snapped up. Breath hissed through his teeth.
“The Druids want you back already?” she guessed.
“Aye.”
Raene drew herself up to her full height. It still placed Aegir a few inches taller, but she wanted him to take her seriously. “I’m going back with you. Hunting for Gregor can wait. Besides, you called it earlier when you said magical battles don’t last long.”
The corners of his mouth twitched but stopped shy of a smile. He moved behind her, dropped his hands atop her shoulders, and began to chant. The feel of his magic surrounding her was heady, but she focused on the task ahead. She wasn’t a warrior. Far from it, but there had to be a way she could help. She had good instincts, and magic ran strong in her.