An Immortal Descent

by Kari Edgren

James’s voice reached us from the woods. “We best be going, Miss Kilbrid.”

  I continued to wheeze, fighting for each scant breath. Julian kept his eyes on me, seemingly oblivious to everything else.

  A branch cracked just out of sight. “You won’t believe who arrived on the coach from Lond—” James clipped this last word short the moment he stepped into the clearing. A hand shot to the dagger belted at his waist. “Who’s there?” he demanded.

  Julian turned slightly. “Good day, Mr. Roth. We were just discussing you.”

  “Lord Stroud?” James said, confused by the discovery. His eyes then moved to me, taking in my dreadful state. “Miss Kilbrid! What’s going on? Why are you tied up?”

  “Julian,” I panted. “Be careful...”

  James rushed toward me, dagger in hand, when another root snaked up from the ground and twined around his ankles. He came to a dead stop, wavered for a split second before his feet were suddenly yanked backward. Tipping like a felled tree, he landed face first with a grunt of pain.

  Dazed, he lifted his head and spat the mud from his mouth. The first attempt to stand met with spectacular failure. As did the second. Then he got a glimpse at what held his ankles. “What the deuce!” he exclaimed, kicking at the root.

  Just perfect. All we needed now was a flood or a swarm of locusts to make this day any worse.

  James rolled onto his back and managed to sit up. Glancing around, he spied the dropped dagger, and started to scoot toward it. As his fingers curled around the handle, a branch swooped down, and a tug-of-war commenced over the blade. I watched in dismay, James’s loss a forgone conclusion. More branches joined the fight, and the knife was soon dangling well out of reach. James dangled as well, his arms suspended to either side like a wooden puppet. Gritty loam stuck to his cheeks, splotched his once white cravat.

  “Damnation!” he cursed. “The devil’s in these trees!”

  I wanted to laugh, but couldn’t.

  The men were speaking. Or perhaps yelling. I could no longer tell. A bird flew above the trees, a black spot against the clouded sky. Lightheaded, I closed my eyes and rested my head against the trunk. Nausea rolled through me. Dryness burned my mouth from panting, but unless my breathing slowed, I was soon going to pass out. I tried not to think about what would happen next, the possibility of suffocation...or drowning in my own vomit.

  “Julian, let them go...”

  A woman’s voice washed over me, familiar and oddly soothing.

  “You’ve made your point, now it’s time to stop.”

  Each word latched onto my brain like honeyed tenterhooks, promising safety while demanding absolute obedience. I would stop anything for her, even breathing if she commanded. Time seemed to slow, removed from the temporal reckoning of minutes and hours.

  “Julian,” she said. “Do as I say and let them go.”

  My eyes fluttered open, beckoned by her voice. Justine Rose, the most famous actress in all of London, stood near James. He’d stopped struggling and was staring up as though seeing an angel. Julian also stared, equally enthralled by the woman.

  Goddess born...family...rival... Thoughts hovered like specters, but for the life of me I couldn’t recall why I disliked her.

  An eternity passed, and no time at all. The root loosened, and I tumbled to the ground in a heap. The connection broke in my head. Air flowed to my lungs, in and out, until my breathing slowed. Movement and noise cluttered the clearing. I should have been more curious, but at present only one thing preoccupied me. On hands and knees, I moved toward the stream, and cupping one palm, drank deeply.

  Someone touched my shoulder.

  “Miss Kilbrid,” James said from behind me. “Are you hurt?”

  Yes. I shook my head and tried to stand. When I stumbled, James placed a hand under my elbow. “Thank you,” I said, somewhat hoarse from the roughness in my throat.

  Justine and Julian stood face-to-face. Her palm rested on his cheek, and his eyes appeared glazed, almost trancelike.

  “What did you do to him?” I asked. What did you do to us?

  Justine smiled without looking at me. “Just a little something I’ve learned over the years.” Her voice sounded normal, nothing at all like a moment ago.

  “What is going on here?” James demanded, still beside me.

  I instinctively placed a hand on his arm. “Wait, Mr. Roth.”

  Another minute passed while they continued to stare at each other. “There you have it,” Justine said at last, so quietly I almost missed it. Her hand dropped from his cheek. “You’ve learned my secret and everything that has brought us to this point.”

  Julian nodded. Then his shoulders slumped forward, and he slowly sank to his knees. His head fell forward next. The tricorn hat tumbled to the ground as he buried his face in his hands. “I thought they had run away together.”

  Justine touched the crown of his dark head. “It would have appeared the same to anyone without all the facts.”

  “She made me so angry.” A pained groan broke in his throat. “I... I might have killed her.”

  “Don’t feel too bad,” Justine said. “I’ve wanted to do the same thing on numerous occasions.” She cut me a sardonic look.

  I returned it tenfold. “The feeling is mutual, Miss Rose.”

  Julian raised his head at the sound of my voice. His arms fell to his side, and he moved toward me, still on his knees. “Oh, Selah. Can you ever forgive me?”

  My mouth tightened with anger. “Forgive you?” I asked, incredulous. “I’ll be bruised for a week from your tantrum.”

  James’s hand tightened on my elbow. “What is he going on about?”

  “Just a minute,” I snapped, in no mood to be interrupted. “This is the second time you’ve held me against my will, Julian. Do it again, and I swear you’ll regret it.”

  Grief marred his face. “Never again.” He shook his head to emphasis the point. “You’ve my word as a gentleman.”

  Justine brushed her gloved hands together. “That sounds reasonable enough to me,” she said matter-of-factly. “Now kiss and make up. We’ve no more time to waste quibbling.”

  “Are you daft?” I asked her.

  “Don’t be difficult, Selah. He’s apologized, now let it go.”

  “Gladly, just as soon as he leaves me be and returns to London.”

  “Well, unfortunately that isn’t the plan,” she said.

  I watched her for a moment, suspicion gnawing like a worm in my gut. “What do you mean?”

  Justine smiled, in a feline sort of way. “I mean that Lord Stroud will be accompanying us to Ireland.”

  It took a few seconds for her words to sink in. “Oh, no he’s not. The man could have killed me if you hadn’t intervened with that little mind trick of yours.” A trick I would have traded my eyeteeth to possess.

  “Which is exactly why we need him,” Justine persisted. “His gift is stronger than any of us ever guessed, and that root thing may come in handy when we’ve reached Wexford.”

  James gave a grunt of surprise, but I waved him off.

  Julian stood in a flurry of wool. His legs seemed to protest from the weight, but he managed to stay upright. “Upon my honor, I pledge my gift to your cause.”

  I gaped at both of them. “What are you talking about? There is no we here, other than Mr. Roth and myself.”

  “Don’t be stupid. You need all the help you can get.” Justine’s expression turned devious. “If you’re nice on the way, I’ll tell you about the present I brought, and how Lady Dinley and Master Faber responded to your stealth departure.”

  Catria and Tiarnach.

  The mention of my great-grandparents’ names brought me up short, an effect not lost on Justine. “I thought you may be interested, as they expressly forbade you to leave Lon
don.”

  My shoulders stiffened in defiance. “They’ve no right to dictate my actions.”

  “From what I heard, they greatly disagree.” Glancing down, Justine flicked some imaginary fluff from her impeccable skirts. “As they were unable to leave London right away, I was sent in their stead.” Her dark blue eyes met mine. “I’m supposed to bring you back one way or another.”

  “Good luck with that,” I said.

  Justine rolled her eyes. “They’ve reason for concern, Selah, even if you’re too stubborn to admit it. How many times have you been attacked since arriving in London? And don’t try to deny it, because Cate told me everything.” She laughed darkly. “Not only have the hounds come after you in force, you’ve managed to be attacked by your own kind. That is a rare feat, if I do say so myself.”

  “I’ll not be blamed for Julian’s actions.”

  James’s grip tightened on my elbow. “That does it!”

  I waved him off again. “Not now—”

  He threw his arms in the air, releasing me with a jerk. “I will not remain silent. Not for another second until someone tells me what the devil is going on here.”

  Julian said nothing, just blinked for lack of words. Justine looked amused, but offered nothing more.

  Great. So it was left to me yet again.

  I heaved a sigh. “Very well. What will you know?”

  James pointed at Julian. “Did he really control the branches and roots?”

  “Yes, he did. Lord Stroud is goddess born, and has the gift of agriculture.”

  An angry breath exploded from Julian. “How dare you tell my secret to a human!”

  “Oh, get over it,” I huffed. “You already gave him a pretty big hint when you attacked him with a tree.”

  Julian scoffed. “Nothing that couldn’t have been explained away.”

  “What would you have me say instead? That you’re a nasty wood fairy?”

  That earned a blistering look. “Mr. Roth would hardly believe something so ridiculous.”

  “Fine. If you don’t like my explanation, then come up with your own next time.”

  Justine laughed. “Behave, children. There’s no need to make a spectacle.”

  James turned his attention to her. “And what about you, Miss Rose? I’ve seen you perform dozens of times, and have never heard a voice like the one you used on Lord Stroud.”

  She winked at him. “I save it for special occasions.”

  “Like whenever she needs a little mind control,” I muttered darkly.

  “Is that what you did?” James asked. “I felt something the moment you first spoke, as though my will had become yours. Did you learn that in the theater?”

  “Yes—” she started.

  “It’s from her gift of poetry,” I interrupted. If the truth was out, it might as well be out for everyone.

  Justine glared her disapproval.

  “Her what?” James asked.

  “She’s also goddess born, and has the gift of poetry.” I smirked at her obvious annoyance. “It’s most likely why she’s such a good actress.”

  James stared at me for a moment. Then his gaze slowly circled to the others. “From their involvement, may I also assume that Lady Dinley and Master Faber are goddess born?”

  Justine dropped her eyes to the ground, where she seemed to have found something of great interest. From Julian’s lack of surprise at the suggestion, I assumed my aunt had shared the connection while revealing her own identity. He also remained silent, with lips pressed firmly together.

  Realizing he would get nothing from the two of them, James turned to me for answers. Oh, well. In for a penny, in for a pound. Rather than responding outright, I simply nodded once.

  “Good heavens!” James said. “Is everyone in London descended from Brigid?”

  Justine smiled at him. “Well, no,” she said. “You aren’t. And from what I can tell, neither is Nora, though there is that pirate grandfather of hers. Tuatha Dé blood has been known to drive people to seek a more adventurous life.”

  While she spoke, Julian seemed to sway on his feet. I looked at him more closely and noticed he had turned white as a sheet.

  “What’s wrong with him?” I asked, refusing to address the man directly lest he confuse curiosity for real concern.

  Justine followed my gaze. “He’s weak from expending so much power at one time. Never a wise move unless absolutely necessary, and from what I can feel, the entire ground is saturated with it. He’ll need to visit the Otherworld soon if he’s to recover.” She placed a hand on Julian’s arm. “Can you make it to Bristol, my lord?”

  “Yes, yes, of course.”

  “The closest altar is in London,” I countered.

  “By good fortune, I have another option.”

  Damnation! Indecision warred inside me. Julian could prove an important asset, but the man was unpredictable, and I didn’t fancy being tied to any more trees.

  James cleared his throat. “Pardon me, ladies. Once Lord Stroud is...recovered, will he be able to command any plants or trees? Is that part of his gift?”

  “Yes,” we replied in unison.

  “Then he comes with us.” James took a step toward Julian and extended a hand. The moment Julian accepted, James pulled him closer until their heads almost touched. “You won’t take me by surprise again. Attack Miss Kilbrid, and I will kill you myself. Do you understand?”

  Despite the exhaustion, aggression leapt into Julian’s eyes and he tightened his hand around James’s. “Perfectly.”

  I looked between the two men. “Fine, he can join us, but on one condition.”

  Julian lifted his head and our eyes locked.

  “What is it?” James asked.

  “If he attacks me again, I get to kill him.”

  James didn’t hesitate. “Fair enough. You’ve my word not interfere if it comes to that.” He turned to the others. “Do we have an agreement?”

  Justine laughed. “I would never dream of denying such a reasonable request.”

  I stared at Julian for a moment longer, my anger no less tangible than the throbbing line of bruises across my stomach. In a jealous rage, Henry had once threatened to cleave the man open from neck to navel. I stormed from the clearing, vowing to do just that if he ever set a hand on me again.

  Chapter Four

  The Stolen Doorway

  We rode most of the remaining miles in silence, two abreast, with the men in front of our meager party. Since leaving the woods, Justine and I had struck an unspoken truce to be, if not the best of friends, at least civil to one another. This was no small deed in light of the bad blood that had flowed between us, and all because we had shared a similar taste in men. Then again, Henry Fitzalan was no ordinary man. On the contrary, he was quite extraordinary, and no doubt half the ladies in London were secretly in love with him. The other half were either too young, too old, or blind as bats.

  Almost lovers. That was how I saw them, and the very notion of their previous intimacies made me cringe with jealousy. It didn’t help that she was the most beautiful woman I had ever laid eyes upon. Even now, I couldn’t help stealing a surreptitious look at her from beneath my hood.

  Great-aunt Justine. The notion seemed no more real than when I first learned of our strange family connection mere days ago. Older sister to my deceased grandmother, she easily passed for a young lady of eighteen years with her brilliant coppery locks and a complexion of smooth cream. Though I had yet to inquire about her exact age, I guessed the woman had seen a handful of English monarchs. Quite possibly more, judging by the ages of her parents, Catria and Tiarnach.

  My great-grandparents had set their birth names aside centuries ago and were currently known in London as Lady Cate Dinley and Master Tom Faber. They claimed 1500
and 1300 years respectively, a feat accomplished by Cate’s rare gift of healing combined with Brigid’s second gift, which freed them from human mortality. As Cate’s direct descendant, this longevity applied to me as well. What I didn’t know, and feared to ask, was if it also applied to Henry. For this reason, I refused to give the matter much thought, opting to cross that particular bridge when I got there.

  The steady clump of hooves mixed with the rush of wind that swept through the thinning woods and over the open fields. Soothing. Repetitive. Nerve-racking. Henry never strayed far from me, his smile always a bit crooked and mischievous. Even in my memories, a bruise marred his cheek from a brawl at the theater. Vengeance heated his eyes to brilliant green.

  I sighed inwardly. The man was protective and brave to a fault, with a passion for fighting that exceeded my understanding. To be sure, I was still angry as a bull at being left behind, but I loved him beyond reason and would surely forgive him within a heartbeat of our reunion. His last kiss had been to my palm, and I curled my fingers around it, holding it close.

  Brief hints of sunshine continued the farther west we went. The roads remained a muddy mess from the previous storm, making for slower travel than I would have liked. Any movement was good, though, each step shortening the distance to Nora.

  Close as a sister to me, my dearest friend had the courage of ten men. In my soul I knew she was still alive. But what would happen when they reached the oak grove? Would her life be forfeited to Deri’s madness?

  Determination fed my aching body. Mile after mile, my prayers became a mantra. Please let Nora be safe... Please let me kill the wretch.

  “In case you’ve been wondering,” Justine said, yanking me away from the vivid image of Brigid’s knife embedded in Deri’s heart. “Sophie is caring for Lucy Goodwin in your absence.”

  Guilt rolled through me. From the time we left, I’d been so focused on Nora, I hadn’t spared her mother a second thought. Nor Sophie, for that matter, who happened to be Justine’s sister and another newly discovered aunt. Since arriving in England, I seemed to be collecting relatives like other ladies collected cats.

  “Is Lucy bad off?” I asked, acutely aware of my hand in her suffering. The Goodwins had come to London on my account, and were now both embroiled in a world that should never have touched them. But touch them it did, through Nora’s abduction and Lucy’s subsequent distress.