by Conn, Claudy
Roaring and clawing the air, the beast went backwards, off balance, and fell lumbering onto its side.
The Peckering had told Royce which eye would bring about the creature’s death. Royce had not questioned how the Peckering knew this—it was, after all, a Seelie Hallow with many talents. She simply aimed and followed through.
She trusted in the ancient Hallow and sighed with relief that her trust had been well founded.
The beast shook and wailed one last time before its body twitched and stilled with death.
Royce held the Peckering tightly as she took a long gulp of air.
Chance and Trevor came running up to her, and Trevor said, “Red … you are covered in goo …”
She looked at herself and sighed, hoping she had enough magic to blink herself clean. She did.
The next thing she knew she was in Chance’s grip. He had both of his hands on her waist, and his voice was a mixture of anger and concern. “What did ye think ye were dooin, lass? Ye could have got yerself …” He didn’t finish the sentence as he frowned darkly and gave her a squeeze. “Doona do anything like that again!”
His accent was thick, and his blue eyes were bright and held such a possessive look in their depths that Royce felt her breath become suspended for a moment.
His voice was thick with emotion as he added, “Ye be mortal here, and ye coulda been killed, lass … and I coona bear that.”
A shiver scurried through Royce as she listened to him and looked into his deep blues. Did he care so much? Was it because he liked her? Was it because he felt responsible for her? Oh, and just what was happening to her, she wondered, but she had no time to contemplate that.
Not wanting to meet his intense gaze, she lowered her gaze to the ground. Even as her lashes brushed her cheek, she could feel a vibration emanate from inside her and slam into him before that vibration returned and rushed through her chest. She wanted to fall into his arms. He was so big, so strong and …
What the heck? She had to get control. He would take her to bed and leave her forever while he sauntered off to new conquests. She had to keep her distance.
She managed to answer, “As to what I was doing—well, it was the only thing that could be done.”
She waved her free hand in the direction of the dead rats and then the Dark monster she had managed to take down. “Voila—done deal.” She so loved human expressions.
Killing was not something she had ever wished to do, but she saw the entire picture now, and there were times when it was kill—or be killed. Simple.
Chance eyed her questioningly as she glanced at his face. She felt her lashes get lazy and her body flush with heat as he took up her chin and tilted it, forcing her to meet his penetrating blues. “What is it, lass—for I swear there is something else?”
“The Fallen Druid … there is no trace of the human in him any longer, and in this realm, he just might be too powerful to take on,” she answered, knowing he was asking something else all together.
“Are ye forgetting who we are? There is no other as powerful as a Milesian leader, flanked by Royal Fae.” He bent and dropped a light kiss on her lips.
She almost grabbed him for more.
She managed to control herself.
However, a sound escaped her, a sound that caught his attention, for he looked deep into her aqua-silver eyes and made a sound himself.
Trevor saved them from the moment. “We need to leave here. Chance, we are mortal in this dimension—we need to get out now.”
“Aye, time to go … but not sure how we do that,” Chance answered, looking around. “Will the Peckering take us out?”
“No, she can’t. The queen was concerned that the Fallen Druid might somehow be able to call the Peckering to his aid and use her to get out of this prison. So she spelled the place so that the Peckering’s power to shift out would be nullified.”
“But … things, even Fae can die here,” Chance mused out loud. “Queen Aaibhe must have allowed for some other contingency when she created this realm.”
“Yes, things die here—we could die here.” Trevor’s voice sounded anxious.
“Perhaps if we combine our magic?” Royce offered.
“There is one way,” the Peckering said sweetly, suddenly joining the conversation.
They all stared at the curved dagger Royce still held close to her body.
“Well?” Royce prompted.
“If you kill the Fallen Druid, then the spell will be broken and the prison will dissolve as though it had never been. You will be returned to where you were last before you entered the prison realm.”
“Then we are stuck here,” Royce said sadly.
“Why is that? Why would you think that, when all we have to do is kill the Fallen Druid—who, given all the atrocities he committed against his own kind, should be killed? The Druid I once knew is no longer.” Chance spat out the words harshly.
“Well, we—Trevor and I—can no more kill the Fallen Druid than the queen could. We are Seelie Fae, and we have a Treaty with Man. We must not kill humans—even when they turn into monsters, ” Royce said solemnly.
“Must ye not? Well, that is all well and dandy,” said Chance, his handsome face breaking out with a smile and his blue eyes alive with dark humor. “But I … I am not a Fae, and I have no directive that forbids me from killing—anyone!”
~ Eight ~
“CHANCE,” TREVOR OBJECTED. “You understand that Red and I can’t be a part of this. He is here because we can’t break the Treaty …”
“Ye don’t mean to suggest that I am in any way governed by Fae rules?” Chance looked at him incredulously.
“No … but you understand we cannot—”
“Yer queen wouldn’t have stuck him here with monsters that could kill him if she wanted him to stay alive,” Chance returned sharply.
“No, but—” Trev tried to explain himself.
“Speak for yourself in this, Trev,” Royce said, interrupting him. “I can’t actually kill the Fallen Druid, for I won’t break the Treaty, but …” She smiled saucily. “I sure as hell will have your back, Chancemont LeBlanc!”
Chance grinned broadly and pulled a lock of her hair. “Aye, but whether the queen wants him dead or alive doesn’t really matter to me—I’m not a Fae, but a Milesian. And I think he needs to die and we need to get out of …” He moved his hands about as though giving confirmation of where they were. “This hell …”
And then right on cue, the Fallen Druid materialized just outside his front door as though he had been choosing the moment to make his appearance, Royce thought as she gazed in his direction. Just what did he have planned for them?
The Fallen Druid was once again in human form (though just barely). He was still a distance away, but they saw him sneer and heard his low, ugly gurgle before he addressed them. “You will die out here … and I will feed on your carcasses.”
He turned and went into his fortress without opening the door. He simply melded with the stone and vanished. It felt and looked all wrong.
“Well then, I doona know what other uglies are out here, but we had best not find out. Time to face the ugly within, eh?” Chance said to Trevor. “Are ye with me, lad?”
Trevor was torn, but he nodded his head. “Yes, come what may, I’ll not turn my back on you, Chancemont LeBlanc. We are in this together.”
Royce felt warmth for her old friend infuse her heart. Finally, he was learning to think outside the rigidness of Fae rules.
Long, fast, hard strides marked Chance’s movements as he stalked towards the windowless building.
Royce ran to catch up to him. She reached out to stall him, holding his arm. “Chance … wait …”
He looked down at her and touched her face as though she were the only woman in the world. She knew better, but she basked in the feeling a moment. She wasn’t sure why she had stopped him, she wasn’t sure what she wanted to say, and it was as though he knew, absolutely knew. He said softly to her, “Coom th
en, ye and Trev can have m’back—but, lass, I’ll no have ye charging this bastard like ye did that beast. Understood?”
“But, Chance, the Fallen Druid is so much more than what he appears. He morphs into this … this huge monster, and who knows what he can do when he is like that.”
“Doona care. I know what I can do,” Chance said, going forward again.
“Wait!” Royce shouted desperately and realized she was experiencing some very real terror, and it wasn’t for herself—at least not directly. It was for Chance. She couldn’t bear the thought that he might get hurt. He could be killed in this awful realm where they were as mortal as humans—and why this should so distress her wasn’t something she had time to figure out just then. She only knew she needed to protect him.
He touched her face with a tenderness that made her want to throw her arms around him and not let him go. His voice was soft and reassuring. “Doona fratch yerself over this, m’sweet lass. I must do what needs getting done.”
She saw there would be no stopping him. She nodded and whispered, “So must I. ’Tis why I am forever in trouble with my queen.”
He released a quick laugh and hugged her tightly a moment before he started off once again. Royce rushed to fall into step beside him.
Trevor flanked his left, his own face drawn in grim lines, his hand tightly fisted around the hilt of his Death Weapon. It was obvious to Royce that her friend had made up his mind to break the rules and fight the Fallen Druid to the death right at Chance’s side.
They got to the bleak-looking façade of the building and stood staunchly at the front door.
Chance surprised his companions when he began his chant—a spell that sounded strangely familiar and, yet, was not quite Fae magic. Then he smiled at them and reached for the huge brass handle, saying smugly, “The Milesian perfected Light Magic long ago. The light can always defeat dark—ye just have to find a way to let it in.” And with this pronouncement, he opened the door.
Royce braced herself with eyes wide open.
She had already witnessed the kind of hideous monster the Fallen Druid was. The human in him had been consumed and was no more.
This would be a fight to the death. And it was all just fine—he was no longer human; as far as she was concerned, no rules were being broken …
She also sensed as they stood there that the Fallen one stood hidden in the dark of a long corridor at the far end of the chamber. He had been waiting for them.
Then, out of nowhere, it was as though a fist slammed into her stomach! She doubled over and reached out to steady herself. Next to her, she felt Chance hold her up, and then …
She saw Pestale in her mind.
This was no time for a vision—but her visions picked their own times!
He was clothed oddly—like something out of medieval times—and she saw horses pulling wagons. He turned away from the human he had been conversing with, and it was as though he saw her. He couldn’t though. She was having a vision. He couldn’t possibly see her, but he said, “Princess Royce, my own love, beauty, and mate …”
She realized with horror that in her vision she was with him, that she had allowed him to take her hand and pull her close …
They were together somewhere in the past.
And then the vision was gone, and reality stared at her hard, fast, and threatening.
She groaned and felt as though her insides had turned to mush and wanted out. It was the mortality she was experiencing in this realm working her insides, she realized.
“Lass, m’sweet lass … what is it?”
“Nothing,” she said and saw the demon emerge from the dark corridor. He was coming at them, breathing fire and drooling enough to flood the room!
She had to pull herself together—she didn’t have a choice.
The Fallen Druid came at them with everything he had, fire shooting out of his dragon-like mouth, teeth gnashing, claws slicing air, and eyes burning a straight path for them.
He truly looked like something from the dregs of hell.
He screeched, and his dragon-like claws scratched at them wildly. Then he stood to his full height, roaring with his fury.
Royce wondered how they were going to fight him while he was in his present form. Unlike the beast she had just killed, the Fallen Druid, though insane, was cunning and had his faculties about him.
She looked at Chance for direction and realized he was unfazed by the horror reaching to destroy them.
She watched him and knew he had no doubts as he advanced against the Fallen Druid and then said gravely to it, “Well, old friend … it has come to this?”
“Aye … so it has!” the Fallen Druid answered in a voice that resonated throughout the room.
“And what would she say, your sweet Delia? What would she say if she saw you today?”
“Do not speak her name! She is gone, and soon you will be as well!”
Chance continued to move towards the beast. What was he doing? One swipe, and he would be dead. Royce called a warning. “Chance …”
He ignored her as he concentrated and then shook his sword at the beast. “Right then, Sir Ugly, time to die.”
“For you—time for you!” the beast raged.
“Then have at me!” Chance answered as though he were facing nothing more than a lowly foe.
Its claws reached for him, but Chance had already jumped sideways. He laughed out loud. “Ye’ll have to do better than that, och now—put some spirit into it.”
Fire came out of Sir Ugly’s (as Chance had dubbed him) mouth. Blood and other fluids dripped in clumps from its black tongue, and it displayed its huge double rows of sharp teeth.
They were all directly in the path of the flames shooting out of its mouth, but they managed to jump back just in time to escape burning; however, the flames scorched the floor where they had been.
Trev was right. She had been taught how to fight, but what she needed now was a strategy.
Flames licked the air as a few pieces of furniture caught fire.
They felt the tentacles of the flames bite at them as Sir Ugly waved his arms around wildly, threateningly trying to catch Chance, who kept the thing’s attention on himself.
It stood a moment and hissed out a breath before saying in invitation, “Come on then, is that all ye’ve got, Chancemont?” Then it shot out a ball of flame from its disgusting mouth.
They all ducked, and the ball hit the wall behind them and filled the chamber with a dark cloud of smoke.
“Och … aye …” said Chance, still taunting the monster. “Good one—ye’ve killed the wall, ye have.”
The awful beast screamed with fury and looked as though it were about to pound its chest like King Kong. Then it came thumping across the floor and reached for Chance.
Royce knew the creature was about to connect with Chance, and she hurriedly jumped in front of Chance, holding up the Peckering.
It had been an instinctual act, and she was more surprised than anyone else when the beast stopped short, and something fell and bounced away from its claws.
“Get out of here—go on, hang back, lass,” Chance growled at her.
“His wand, Princess … he has dropped his wand,” said the Peckering.
It suddenly dawned on her: all this time, the Fallen Druid had been holding his sorcerer’s wand.
He would be so much less powerful without it, and he would be stuck in his present form until he could retrieve it.
She took a deep breath and once again was reminded how brave humans were each time they risked their lives for an ‘ideal’ or for someone else.
She still had Fae super-speed and took a leaping Ninja jump, got to the wand, grabbed it, and held fast, but even as she started back, she felt the hot fire’s breath at her butt and the sting of the beast’s claws as they gouged a path across her back.
Pain!
It shot through her, her mind reeled with it, and her body clenched from it. Absurdly she tried to reach over her shoulder a
nd did in fact bring back a hand wet and sticky with her warm blood.
She saw blood pooling at her feet and stumbled off and away from it as she controlled herself from crying out at the anguish her body was experiencing.
Flesh—her flesh lay bloodied and raw on the stone floor.
Chance was near her, touching her, holding her up, shielding her with his body. He called to Trevor to take her out of the fray.
Trevor was there, cradling her. “Don’t move, Red. You’re hurt … real bad …”
She looked up and strained to see Chance, who was roaring at the beast like a man crazed. She turned back to Trevor, and her voice was scarcely audible. “Trev, go on … help him …” She felt the room spin out of control, and with a cry of sheer agony she curled into herself.
Somehow she had to manage to hold it together, but at the moment she knew she was useless to help. She couldn’t move, but she saw and understood what Chance was trying to do.
What he needed was a clear shot at the beast. He needed to use his Death Sword to kill it—nothing else would.
Trevor must have realized this at the same moment she did, for he whispered for her to ‘hold on’ and got up and charged the Fallen Druid in attempt to divide his attention.
She was surprised to see Trevor’s skill as he super-sped to the beast’s flank and railed at it even as he stepped out of range.
The Fallen Druid beast was diverted and turned away from Chance.
His maneuver gave Chance the moment he had been looking for.
However, just as Chance started to make his move, the Fallen Druid thing went down low as though to claw the stone floor and charge.
Royce remembered she had the wand safely in her grip. The moment had come for her to do what needed to be done.
She moved to get into position; it drew an agonized wail from her, but she sneered at herself and gritted her teeth as she pointed the wand and whispered the needed words in ancient Danu, “Oighrionn tu, reonn tu.”
She repeated them for good measure, “Oighrionn tu, reonn tu,” which essentially ordered the beast to freeze.