Through Time-Whiplash

by Conn, Claudy

  Trevor decided to ignore the voice as he took a survey of Jazz’s body and realized that some of the spider’s paralyzing formula had certainly gotten into her organs. They were shutting down.

  If he didn’t find an answer soon, he would lose his Jazmine Decker. He could see her skin start to turn red; a rash was forming over much of her body. He knew too much of the poison had been absorbed. No, he thought. She can’t die. He had to heal her organs—but how? He had never seen it done. He knew nothing about human anatomy.

  Then, the unthinkable occurred!

  In that moment, Trevor of Lugh was sure he had somehow grown a heart, for he felt it expand before it broke, and then he felt the two halves break again. Agony tore through his body and exploded in his brain, tearing his world into shreds.

  Jazmine Decker had somehow woven her spell around his essence, and he was fairly certain he no longer wished to live without her. But she had just died in his arms. All that she was had ceased to be.

  How could he bear this?

  He could not. He would not.

  All Trevor of Lugh’s sacred rules of Fae ethics were demolished. He raised his hands heavenward and howled with his agony.

  ~ Twelve ~

  AAIBHE RAISED HER iridescent eyes to Morgan LeBlanc as he pulled her in close and whispered in ancient Gaelic with that burr she loved so much. She couldn’t answer him, though. How could she allow this to continue? She was Queen of the Seelie Fae, and she owed—

  “Doona ye feel the same, m’darlin’ lass?” he murmured in her ear.

  She bent her head back. How she loved being his ‘darlin’ lass’. He made her whole, and she knew, looking into his blue eyes, that she could not give him up. “I do, but—”

  “There is no but. Aye, ye be Queen of the Fae. So be it. I am leader of the Milesians, and together we stand against the Dark Fae, stand between them and our worlds. The humans canna take them on without us. Together, we can band our worlds and forget what was and think only of what will be, could be.”

  She touched his handsome face. “I know, but there are some here in Tir that would be …” She softened the word she was about to use and said, “upset.”

  “Aye, but we should no care. I doona care, and ye be queen. Ye have given everything for your subjects. Now ’tis time they stepped back and let ye be, let ye enjoy what is yer right to have—a life.”

  “You are, of course, quite right, but still I have to be careful,” she said, frowning. She heard two sets of footsteps approach her private chamber door and knew, at once, who it was. Her favorite princes. She turned towards the door, still holding onto Morgan’s arm, and said, “Enter.”

  Danté, Prince of Lugh, and Breslyn, Prince of Dagda, came in. Breslyn, who already knew that Morgan was with his queen, hurriedly closed the door at his back.

  “What is it?” Aaibhe said, dropping her hand from Morgan’s arm and stepping towards them.

  The two princes, regal, warrior-like, and full with their news, first stepped forward and heartily greeted the Milesian. Shoulder to shoulder they had fought the Dark Prince, Pestale, and his monsters, and it had made them comrades.

  They shook hands and slapped shoulders in greeting and then Danté, ever ready of purpose, turned to his queen, his face grave. “Z and I have closed a portal we found at her monoliths, but we believe it was a decoy. It didn’t have enough power to allow more than a lower-caste Unseelie through.”

  “Aye.” Breslyn nodded. “The same as what Ete and I found. These portals are meant as a distraction. There is something being created that will open wide and large, but I haven’t been able to pinpoint just where that will be.”

  The queen listened to this and paced a moment. Then Breslyn suddenly, hurriedly said, “My Queen, I can feel him. Banzar approaches.” He looked at Morgan. “Perhaps it would be better if Morgan was not here?”

  Aaibhe made up her mind in that moment. Hiding her relationship was no longer an option. Morgan was correct. She had every right to form both a romantic and political alliance, and the Council would just have to swallow it!

  A knock sounded. Excerpt for emergencies she should not be disturbed whilst in her private chambers without a formal request. Banzar did not have leave, and he did not have a prior arrangement; however, she said, “Enter, Banzar.” Her brow was up, clearly displaying her displeasure at his intrusion.

  At his back were two other Council members; he turned to them and said, “What did I tell you? She entertains a Milesian in her private chamber!”

  The two male Council members shifted uncomfortably and inclined their heads to the queen. One said, “But, Banzar, Prince Breslyn and Prince Danté are present.”

  “So they are,” said the queen. “However, they were not present a few moments ago when I was very much alone with Morgan LeBlanc,” she said, daring them to object. She had made up her mind to take them on.

  Breslyn and Danté immediately stepped up to flank her sides and folded their arms across their massive chests. Clearly they had chosen their allegiance, but then they had always displayed their loyalty to their queen.

  The two Council members with Banzar seemed to make a quick decision, and that was obvious to all in the room. They might not approve of their queen cavorting with a Milesian, but they weren’t about to take her on, at least not without first checking where she stood with the remaining Council members. They bowed their heads and backed out of the room.

  Banzar glared at her. “This is not over.”

  “You may be certain of that,” Aaibhe said.

  As he stomped out of the room Breslyn barked a laugh, but Danté said grimly, “This will mean trouble—they are coming after you, my Queen.”

  “Aye, Banzar has always wanted the throne.” Breslyn sneered. “But he’ll have to go through us to get it, and I don’t see that happening, eh, Danté?”

  “If he gets enough Council members to vote with him, they have the power to depose the queen.”

  “Never going to happen,” Breslyn said. “I have always wanted to take on those sour-faced fools. The time has come to weed out the useless and bring in new life, and we are just the ones to do it.”

  “Bres, it can’t be done with a sword. It will need politicking behind the scenes, and neither one of us has ever been good at that,” Danté cautioned.

  Aaibhe said nothing to all of this, and Morgan slipped a hand around her waist and said, “Am I ruining your life, my love?”

  “No, you are making it—you have given me life. If my position as queen is so fragile that someone like Banzar thinks he can depose me, well then, ’tis time to take a stand.”

  “Damn straight,” Breslyn said, his silver eyes alight with the challenge.

  “The timing is very poor,” said the queen. “One should never fight a two-front war, and Banzar is putting us right there between two fronts, a political one on one hand, which can be distracting, while we fight to keep the Unseelie imprisoned.”

  “You have four Royal Houses at your side. You have the Daoine Fae at your back. There may be some who will take a stand with Banzar, but though we shall have to suffer the fools, there is no doubt we shall take them down!” Breslyn said in high spirits.

  Aaibhe looked into Danté’s golden eyes and saw what she knew already. This was going to be a fight to the death, and she was in grave jeopardy.

  * * *

  “Enough,” said a soft voice, and Trevor snapped his neck back as he looked up, tears flowing freely down his cheeks.

  It was not the robotic voice that had spoken only a moment ago, and at the moment he couldn’t think and had no idea to whom the female voice belonged. She was not visible, and he realized she was merely projecting her voice from somewhere else as she continued to berate him. “There is no time for this display of emotion, though I applaud your feelings. There is only a moment left before she will certainly be gone from even your ability to save her.”

  “By Danu, help me. I don’t know how to bring her back!” He heard the
anguished plea in his own voice. Would she help? He could heal a human; he knew that much, but he had never witnessed one being brought back from death.

  “Of course. I may be in the process of evolving because I must do so to save my love from himself, but I have not forgotten who I am.” She allowed him to see a holograph of herself, and she was not only stunningly beautiful but radiating with kindness. “There, you may be more comfortable speaking with my image. You have very little time. She has not yet crossed over, and you must do this before she does. Seelie Fae, she needs your blood,” the woman said grimly.

  Trevor had heard the ancient tale when he was a boy. It was one of those stories that was repeated and had turned into a legend. He had never thought much about it. Still, he knew that even a Royal Fae could not bring back the dead without dire consequences.

  However, he would pay any price; he was willing to exchange his life for hers, suffer any consequences.

  The old tale spoke of an ancient Fae King, presumably the Dark King, who had brought back a human from death by giving her his blood. Was that what she meant? “How is it done?” Trevor’s voice shook with emotion.

  “You must pour your blood down her throat. But hurry now—cut yourself, and before you heal, get as much into her as you may.”

  Without question, and from the desperation of hope beyond what he understood, Trevor slashed his wrist. He cut into an artery and hurriedly squeezed the blood into her mouth as he pulled her head back and manipulated her lips. He needed to get his blood down her throat, even though she could not swallow, he knew that his blood would attach itself and do its job. He managed to pour just enough blood into her gullet before his wound began to repair itself.

  “Nothing is happening—was I too late?” he yelled, his voice filled with a fear he couldn’t control and wasn’t ashamed to show.

  “Wait, Seelie Prince,” the three-dimensional image whispered. “She is a Fios, more than human, and that fact will help her to absorb your blood.”

  “It is just an old story children tell one another,” he said angrily, damning himself for letting Jazmine Decker stay in the Dark Realm with him. He should have returned her to Tir.

  “It is more than a story. I know of one time when it was done. When the Dark King found me after our first meeting, I had been mortally wounded and died in his arms. I died. He brought me back with his blood.” The voice paused and then sighed. “Ah, I am pleased—your Fios wakes.”

  It dawned on him in that moment this was Crystal, the Dark King’s consort, of course. Hope began to spring alive in his mind.

  Trevor turned back to his Jazmine Decker and felt her stir in his arms. Laughter and sobs mixed into broken formation as the sounds of joy beat away his fear and burst out of him. He had not thought himself capable of feeling such extreme emotions all at once, let alone expressing them. He held Jazz tightly to himself. He held her head up to keep it from flopping, and as she choked on his blood, he placed his palm over her forehead and whispered ancient Danu words to relax her throat muscles and help her magically absorb the blood. He saw this worked, and he hugged her to himself as he whispered Danu words of love: “Anam me, ta anam me, Fili me.” Then he repeated them in English, hoping she would hear them and know what he felt, understand what she meant to him. “My soul, my love, my Fios.”

  Suddenly Jazz opened her eyes. Her lashes fluttered and closed, and then she began to shake uncontrollably in his embrace. She was gagging, trembling, and flailing her arms. He held her in place to keep her from injuring herself and shouted towards Crystal’s holograph, “What the bloody hell is happening to her?”

  “Transition—you have the power, Seelie Prince, to keep her calm … use it.”

  Trevor, Prince of Lugh, held her against his chest and concentrated all his thoughts into one compulsion, Be at ease.

  They watched as Jazz relaxed and fell limp against him. He embraced her, held her tightly wrapped in his arms, and rocked her a moment without knowing why.

  “Good,” said the image before him. “You may come and go from my retreat as you please, Seelie Prince, but I must leave you,” the soft female voice said.

  “Wait,” Trevor called out. “Thank you.” His voice shook on the words.

  She inclined her head. “You will have to help her through transition. I wish you well, Trevor of Lugh, as I did your brother.”

  “Again, thank you,” he said earnestly. “Is there anything I should know—anything more I can do for her?”

  “My time is dear, and I have only one thing I must do at this moment. My beloved has even a greater need of me than you and yours. He is losing himself to energy, and the process must be stopped immediately. I must go … but before I do, yes, you must train her to deal with her new blood, her new body, for she is no longer human. And … tell your queen that to seal the Prison Wall you will need a magic thread my King calls twalla. She has the power to create this, but it will be very difficult. She must go into her mind and find the source that only she can call on. It is the magic of Queen Bridget, of Danu, and has been long forgotten.”

  He felt a shift in the atmosphere and knew she was gone. Jazmine Decker trembled in his arms. He rocked with her, kissed her forehead, her nose, her ears. He buried his tearful face inside the hollow of her neck and whispered her name.

  ~ Thirteen ~

  JAZZ BLINKED INTO consciousness. Had she been sleeping?

  Where was she? What had happened?

  The last thing she remembered was everything going dark, but then … nothing more. She opened her eyes wider and tried to focus on her surroundings.

  Trevor—where was Trevor?

  She touched the blankets and realized she was in a bed. She looked and saw that she was in a bedroom. Had Trevor found a way into the glass house?

  Everything was so hazy … yet, her eyesight seemed better than ever!

  She looked at the walls of her room. They were odd, cloudy glass walls, but a fire burned in the large, pot-bellied stove in a corner of the room.

  She started to prop herself up onto her elbows and felt a surge of strength flow through her body. She felt … wonderful, strong, stronger than she had ever felt in her life.

  She must have had a great sleep.

  Damn, she thought, it was as though some kind of secret power surged through her, leaving her feeling resilient and ready to take on the—what the heck was going on?

  It wasn’t just her body—her mind felt different.

  It was as though a computer chip was compartmentalizing information, storing, wielding, and setting it all in place in her brain. She put her hands to her head. It felt the same on the outside, but inside? Way different. A part of her began to panic.

  “Trevor …?” she yelled. And then she remembered goop—she had been covered in the thick, sticky, disgusting substance, and Trevor had been shouting at her …

  She sat up completely, and the sudden rush of movement nearly sent her flying into the air. What the hell? She realized she was naked and hurriedly sank back down as she grabbed for and pulled the quilt all around herself. “Trevor?” she called again uncertainly.

  What the hell was going on?

  Wherever she was, gravity seemed to work differently. How could he just leave her alone like this? Where was he? Where was she? Sudden panic took over, and she released a scream. “Trevor-Trevor-Trevor!”

  He shifted in, and she wanted to dive into his arms. Instead, she held herself in check and regarded him gravely, one eyebrow arched inquisitively.

  He sat beside her on the bed, took her hand to his lips, and murmured, “Jazmine Decker.”

  His voice sounded like a caress, and all at once she couldn’t stop herself. She threw her arms around him and hugged him like she never, ever wanted to let go.

  It was odd, but she felt as though all her thoughts, all her emotions, had been heightened. She held on tight and said, “Where are we? What happened? The last thing I remember was being stuck in goop. I see that you got me out, for
which I thank you … but where are we, and why don’t I remember getting here?” And then she was aware of something in her mind, something that was calm and practical, something that was aware of things beyond the room, sights and sounds that were outside, in the Dark Realm. She could hear beasts screeching in pain … yes, hungry beasts, just outside. She put her hands to her ears and sank back against the pillows.

  “Something is wrong with me, Trev! Am I hallucinating because of that stuff? Did it get into my system—am I sick?”

  Her quilt had slipped, displaying the fullness of her breasts, and she saw Trevor’s gaze linger there for a moment before he lifted the quilt to her neck. He was such a gentleman, she thought—and then wished he weren’t.

  But for the moment, she couldn’t think of that. She had to get a grip. What was wrong with her? She held her head and whispered, “Ugh … things are moving … outside—fighting and killing each other, I think. I hear them—how do I make it stop? This isn’t normal … why do I hear them?”

  “Hush, Jazmine Decker, quiet yourself. Think in waves of calm, and it will be so,” Trevor said and touched her cheek with his palm.

  Silently she yelled in her head, Calm—waves of calm, but it didn’t work. She scowled at him. “What is that supposed to mean? Think in waves of calm? I don’t know how to do that.” It had to be an adverse affect from the goop.

  “Think of a mill pond, how gentle, serene … and quiet yourself. We will work on getting your hearing adjusted and teach you how to lower the volume when you wish.”

  Jazz considered him. “Oh, yes … my Fios sometimes could hear things my human couldn’t … but this … is different.” Her pulse beat out of control. She felt flushed suddenly and confused. She needed to do something, and so as he suggested, she pictured a dark pond. Sure enough, all at once, like turning off a switch, it worked. Her mind settled in, and she had control of her hearing, of the jabbering going on in her head. She sighed gratefully.