Through Time-Whiplash

by Conn, Claudy

  She put a finger to her lips and tapped. “Yup, I think that is what he has been building, a portal underground that will lead him to the human world and then to yours once he and his army are out of here.”

  ~ Seventeen ~

  QUEEN AAIBHE STOOD on her balcony and looked over the courtyard. It was a distance, quite a distance from her private quarters, but she was Daoine, the highest of the Seelie caste, and able to turn up her Fae hearing volume even more than most and at will.

  Some of her favorite acquaintances and friends were in a heated debate. She was thankful that none seemed to think she should be deposed. None seemed to think it was even their legal right to do so; no, that was not at the meat of their arguments with one another.

  And their arguments divided them, females against males.

  Female Fae reveled in the notion she had at last found someone she could love. Male Fae were outraged it wasn’t one of them but a Milesian.

  Their arguments had escalated, and sides were being taken.

  Aaibhe felt the pain of this.

  Peace amongst themselves was what they had enjoyed until she had fallen in love with Morgan LeBlanc. If she gave him up, peace would be restored. She had no choice.

  She turned to him and felt as though her life would soon be over. She was reducing her eternity to a form of robotic duty—nothing more.

  “Morgan, you know of course … it must end for us.”

  “I know nothing of the kind. I mean to take you away—to Milesian if you will allow. You don’t need to bring harmony and peace to subjects who deny you personal happiness.”

  “They need me,” she said softly and touched his cheek.

  He took her hand and feverishly kissed her fingers. “I need you more. Tell me, Aaibhe—tell me you don’t want to live without me, for I shan’t live without you. I would give up my kingdom for you. Tell me you will do the same.”

  She was Queen of the Seelie Fae, and they were in dire circumstances. She knew Pestale would find a way to break through and that the Dark King wasn’t even near enough to know or care. She knew that Banzar did not have it in him to lead. He was too self-centered to put his people first.

  Morgan stepped away and planted his fist into his open palm. “Tell me, Aaibhe, that you and I matter enough to fight for!”

  Aaibhe saw it all so clearly, and he was correct. Their union was her right. Her Fae subjects were asking too much, but could she win this battle and keep them safe? Even if she won the political battle, would they be able to defeat the Dark Ones?

  “I do, Morgan, I do love you, beyond what is seemly. And, yes, I think our union will be good for both our worlds … so, yes, I will fight for the right to be with you.”

  A knock sounded, and Aaibhe smiled warmly as she said, “Come in, Frankie.”

  Frankie had just come from training with Nuad, the queen’s Chief Tracker. She skipped into the room and curtsied to Morgan. She then took the queen’s hand to drop a light kiss and said, “My Queen?”

  “Yes, sweetheart?” Aaibhe already adored the child, but she knew what was coming. Had known it was coming; after all, Frankie, though quiet, had begun to open up. She knew sooner or later, Frankie would need to know the truth.

  “I have a question, my Queen.” She regarded her sandals, and then she lifted her eyes to the queen’s face and took a long breath. “I know Miss Jazz would have told me if she knew, but I be thinking she didn’t.”

  “If she knew?” Aaibhe probed gently.

  “Aye, the longer I am here … amongst ye, well, it isn’t something that will go away, so I trust ye to tell me the truth of it,” Frankie said, sounding years older than she was.

  “You are quite correct. You may trust me,” the queen said softly.

  Frankie rolled back the sleeve of her closely fitted green exercise top and displayed bruises, faded bruises. She regarded the queen solemnly and said, “I go all black and blue trying something Nuad says I wasn’t ready for. When the bruise first comes on, it is dark and purple and hurts—it has always been so.”

  “And soon afterwards it fades and does not hurt so very much,” the queen said with a gentle and encouraging smile.

  “Aye, exactly, my Queen. A human, even a Fios human, couldn’t heal so fast, could she?”

  “No, a Fios is not immortal and cannot heal herself,” the queen answered and waited.

  “After m’mum died and I was bought by the farmer Higgens, he would hit me in the face, and then hours later the bruise and the pain were gone. It made him mad.”

  “You don’t have to think about him any longer.” The queen put her arm around Frankie and hugged her close.

  “No, I don’t suppose I do, but, m’Queen, why do I heal so fast? I used to think it was because I was a Fios, but Nuad, like you, says no. He also said Fios are mortal and can’t heal themselves.”

  “I suppose it is time to give you the truth.” Aaibhe sighed and said, “I am not certain you are ready for it, though. You are still too young to understand affairs of the heart.” Aaibhe got up and paced.

  Frankie watched her with solemnity, her eyes wide, her thoughts clicking the queen’s words into place. Aaibhe saw this at once and immediately returned to sit with her. She cast a quick glance at Morgan, who gave her an encouraging smile. He made her feel whole. He banished the doubts—every single doubt.

  “Shall I leave you two to talk?” Morgan suggested.

  Frankie reached out her hand, and he walked over and gave it a squeeze as she said, “No … don’t go.” She turned back to the queen. “I am that ready, I am, to hear whatever it is you are going to tell me.”

  Aaibhe took Frankie’s chin and asked, “How much do you remember about your father?”

  She shrugged. “He was good and kind and … why?”

  “Did your mother ever speak of anyone else?”

  “No.” Then Frankie eyed her strangely and said, “Once I saw something—someone—he was half-hidden from view, and it bothered me, for m’mum seemed … well, he seemed important to her.” She drew in air and said, “I saw her in the barn. She was talking with a Fae … there was no mistake about it. He was a Fae—not a Royal, but he was a Seelie Fae. I was angry with her, because she was breaking her own rule. She said never to look at them, and there she was with one—holding his hand like they were friends. I heard her tell him to please leave me be.”

  “I see, Frankie,” the queen said and then slowly added, “I am going to shock you now, my dear one.” She paused then once again asked, “Are you sure you are ready for this?”

  “I don’t know what it is ye be about to tell me, my Queen, but I do think truth is always the right way.” She shook her head. “Ye see me as young, and mayhap I be young in years, but … I’m not blind.”

  “Young people today know a great deal in the human world, but not in the time you lived,” the queen said, still uncertain how to proceed.

  “I know.” She smiled brightly. “Nuad showed me American TV, and that was quite fun, but I saw that everyone is very different in manners and behavior to m’own time. I do like the way they dress—so free.”

  Aaibhe hugged her and then lifted her chin. “Well then, where do I start?”

  “I don’t need the talk about the birds and bees as m’mum used to call it. I lived on a farm.”

  Aaibhe laughed. “So you did.”

  “That Fae I saw her with … it has something to do with him, doesn’t it?”

  Aaibhe paused and said gently, “Yes, it does, because your mother knew him before she met and married your father.”

  Frankie digested this. “So they were old friends, m’mum and this Fae? She warned me off the Fae … and yet, she was friends with one?”

  “These things occur,” said the queen softly.

  Frankie giggled. “Aye, they do—look at me, a Fios in Faery!”

  The queen smiled. “You are now eleven years old … so young to have to deal with this …” She looked at Morgan, whose look of love stroked a
nd encouraged her forward.

  “I’ll be twelve in a couple of days,” Frankie objected.

  Aaibhe touched her face. “You still have quite a bit of growing up to do, and so you shall.”

  “My Queen.” Frankie lowered her lashes. “Please … tell me the truth about m’self. I need to know everything, and I know there is more. It is something about me being a Fios, isn’t it?”

  The queen made her decision and dove right in. “Very well then, child. The truth is, you are more than Fios, which you are because of your mother’s bloodline.” She paused, and her voice caressed Frankie when she continued. “And you are Fae, on your father’s side.”

  “No, that can’t be right—m’da was no Fae,” she said on a frown.

  “The man you called your ‘da’ was, for all purposes, your father. He loved you and raised you, and you loved him, but he wasn’t the one who gave you life.”

  Frankie got up and walked away from the queen; when she turned her eyes were narrowed with her thoughts. “So then, ye be telling me I am half Fae?”

  “Yes, I am telling you that, though a little part of you knew something … always suspected there was more inside you. Your Fae genes have remained dormant during your childhood, as there was no one to call on your powers and train you, but you have felt ‘different’ during your training time with Nuad, haven’t you?”

  “Aye, I jest thought it was m’Fios growing.” She pulled herself up and returned to sit with the queen. “Kindly tell me who m’Fae father is then?”

  “There is time for that. I need you to remember that you have been snatched out of your time period.. You were living in the 1800s … you would have grown to maturity and at some point realized you were immortal. At maturity, your Fae genes would have expanded and taught you who you really were …”

  “But now I know who I am, and I want to know who he was,” Frankie said calmly.

  “Our job now, Nuad’s job, is to unite the Fios with the Fae in you and bring out your strengths to make you powerful for the immediate future, because the universe is about to be plunged into the deadliest of all times.”

  “Aye, and though child I be, I will be fore and center, my Queen, in the fight. But my da … m’father, the man who raised me as his own—did he know?” Frankie chewed at her bottom lip.

  Aaibhe had no way of knowing the answer to this, but she lowered her lashes and shook her head. “No, Frankie, he did not. As far as he was concerned, he was your father.” She was pleased to see the sigh of relief Frankie released.

  “Right then, if ye please, can ye tell me now who this Fae is … who is m’Fae father?”

  Aaibhe arched a look at her. “I can tell you he must have cared for your mother a great deal. I can tell you he left you to lead a normal life for your sake, not his. I can tell you he is a good and faithful member of my very special team and I can’t have him distracted just now.”

  Frankie cocked her head. “But he already knows about me, doesn’t he?”

  “Yes, but remember, he doesn’t know you are here in Tir, or even if you lived through the centuries. I believe your mother must have asked him to let you be raised as a human with her.”

  “Please, m’Queen, please, who is he? Can I not go see him?”

  “Not right now. He is on a mission, and I can’t recall him. The time will come to reunite you.” The queen squeezed her hands and said softly, “Frankie, we have a threat approaching from the Dark Realm, and I need you to continue your training. Will you do that for me and trust me to choose the time and place for you to meet your Fae father?”

  Frankie hugged her close. “Aye then, for ye must know, my Queen … I do trust ye … and Miss Jazz … with m’life, and I would lay down m’life for either of ye.”

  Aaibhe sighed and held her. Her vision of the future had been filled with blood, and she knew life—that the life they prized, where art, music, and harmony ruled, was coming to an abrupt end.

  ~ Eighteen ~

  TREVOR LOOKED AT Jazz and wished he could send her safely to Tir. She didn’t have enough training yet. Her powers needed time to evolve.

  How could he put her at risk? He had been raised to know that Fae females fought beside their mates as equals. Their monarchy was female, for bloody damn sake! He could not remember a time when this had not been so, and yet …

  All he wanted to do was keep her tucked in safely in Tir, away from all the dark ugliness of this world, away from Pestale and his wicked brothers.

  He had the Orb of Time, safely hidden with his Death Sword. He could call on it and return her to Tir, but would she ever forgive him …?

  Could he manage it? Her newfound Fae powers would allow her to see it coming. She was a fighter, a brave and resilient Fios as well as an immortal. She would not allow him to send her off. So that option was for the moment discarded.

  Still, he made an attempt. “Jazmine Decker?”

  She cocked her head and chuckled. “I love the way you say my name. It sounds so formal and yet so sexy all covered with that delicious accent of yours.”

  Bloody hell, he thought, pulling her in closer and nipping at her ear. He loved everything about her. She made him feel alive, truly alive in each moment. He raised his head and said urgently, “I need you to go to the queen and tell her of your suspicions. It will take the queen’s physical presence to close a portal of such size. We cannot do it from this side of the Dark Prison, and I doubt that even the Royals can do it without her lead on the other side.”

  “Trevor of Lugh,” Jazz said archly, “you are not in the company of a fool—well, not a total fool. I am not going anywhere. If you want to communicate with the queen …?” She held up her pendant. “Tada!”

  He sighed. “Sweet love, can’t you see? They will target you to get to me. Don’t you want me safe?”

  “You are trying to trick me. There is nothing any of those Dark creeps can do to you—a Seelie Royal. So, what you are suggesting …?” She shook her head. “Not going to happen.” She frowned at him and added, “I am not stupid enough to get caught by any of those Dark Royals, because now I have Fae blood in me and have been trained by the best.” She inched closer and said. “Come on, baby, let’s boogie, as there is no time to lose.”

  He grinned and shook his head. “Baby? It is odd that I rather like the sound of that on your lips, and yet, I must wonder how it is that you call me baby. I am not a baby.”

  She laughed right out loud. “You are my big, hunky, handsome, strong, baby.” And she laughed again.

  He wondered at it, at the feeling she drew from him. She always made him smile; through it all, she made him smile. Even now, faced with horrendous danger and a mission that was beginning to look doomed, she made him smile. Absurd.

  He took her hand and wondered how it never ceased to thrill him when he touched her. From the first moment … she thrilled him.

  Damn, but what was he doing—mooning on and on now, when they had to plan strategy? No time remained for this.

  If she was right, and the Dark Princes were working on opening a portal deep within their castle, they had to get there fast and destroy it.

  If the bastards succeeded in opening such a portal they would surely have an Unseelie army at their back. It would be catastrophic unless they were able to contact the queen and get her to close the portal in time!

  “Right then, sweet Fios. Do not leave my side.”

  A moment later they had shifted into the darkest part of the castle. They stood at the top of a long, winding, and narrow set of stone steps that led them to a small, weathered wooden door.

  Trevor hesitated. He didn’t want to shift directly into Pestale’s midst, for he hoped to take them by surprise. He enacted a gypsy chant to disguise their scent in the spell of concealment. It would only buy them some time to evaluate the situation before making a move.

  “Was that language you spoke Danu? It sounded different in my head.”

  “Quite right.” He smiled at her. “It was Rom
any—a Gypsy spell Bres taught me a few months ago. Romany will translate, as will any language in your head, now that you are Fae and that Fae is growing in you, but the spells have to be learned. Breslyn said that the Dark Ones were not adept in Gypsy spells and would not see through them immediately. It will only buy us time before they realize we are near.”

  A moment later they entered the huge dungeon chamber, hovering in a mist of darkness, above near the rafters, a skill he had taught her just that morning and one that she had picked up easier than she had some others. The room was full to overflowing with Unseelie of every imaginable caste, horrifying to look at, repulsive to smell, but what was worse was the swirling dark opening that went from floor to ceiling. Although it was only a few feet in width, it seemed to be getting larger with each moment.

  They took in the scene with eyes wide open, and Trevor knew they were in for serious trouble.

  * * *

  Jazz’s mouth fell open as she stared at the horde of Unseelie monsters. They jostled one another, and little skirmishes broke out, diverting attention to the fights. Pestale had more than once put up his hand and called for an end to it.

  The dungeon had to be at least fifty feet wide and eighty feet long.

  Insect-type beings the size of cows, snakes that stood on two legs and were the size of basketball players, and grotesque, elephant-sized pig-like creatures snorted and bumped and grumbled. And then she saw a horde of green humanoid types, standing quietly behind the three Dark Royals.

  “What are those, the green guys? They look almost like—”

  “They are the Green Babblers. The sound they make can kill a human a hundred feet away, and then they feed on the dead body.” He pointed with his chin. “Those, the giant insects, they like to feed on live humans. Now and then over the years, one or two escape and feed until we locate them and return or destroy them.”