by S. Young
“Between these two are the countries ruled by the Earrach and Fómhar Royal Houses, nicknamed the Dawn and Dusk Lands. The royals are powerful fae who rule over a slightly less powerful aristocracy, and even less powerful middle and peasant classes.
“When the fae first invited humans into Faerie, the royal houses began to play dangerous games with them. Some say it started with one human woman. A courtier of the Geimhreadh House was fighting over her with a member of the Samhradh House. In their fight, the woman was killed and the fae of Geimhreadh tried to heal her with his blood. This was forbidden. Now we know that fae blood heals us when done in our world”—he gestured pointedly to Thea—“but on Faerie, magic is unstable for humans. It changed the human instead. She was called Isis, and she was the first vampire.
“Despite the use of forbidden healing, this creation amused the queen, but her Day courtiers were furious. And being the twisty little buggers they are,” he said, curling his upper lip, “they cast a spell over Isis so a wooden stake, a weapon of nature, could kill her. And the greatest weapon they spelled against her was the earth’s sun. It was amusing to them to take a creature of the Night Lands and trap it in an eternal night. After all, it wasn’t borne of Samhradh House, and sun was their purview. They sought to make Isis the antithesis of nature. So she was, and those she passed her gift onto are forever locked in night.” He nodded to the blinds covering his windows. “Pure sunlight turns us to ash.”
“And so began the ultimate distraction from boredom. They used humans in their twisted games and the queen allowed it. She was fond of humans, but they were still inferior. Playthings. Something to amuse her courtiers.
“When a shape-shifting fae, a rare species among the Day Lands, bit a human while wolf and accidentally transferred her gift to the human man, the werewolf was made. Those of the Day Lands were pleased to have made their own creation, but the courtiers of the Night Lands remembered what Day did to Isis, and they spelled the wolf. While their vampire ‘children’ were controlled by the earth’s sun, they made sure the full moon would control the werewolves. Moreover, Night had a penchant for silver metal. Because Day fashioned a weapon for the vampires, they fashioned a weapon for the wolves. Silver.”
Vik grew silent, studying Thea until she was scowling in increasing impatience. Her mind was whirling with the new information. Conall was right. It sounded ridiculous.
And yet, something was shifting inside her. The restlessness that had flowed through her for years, the restlessness of not knowing what she was, was settling. The hum, the itch of it, was relieved somehow. She needed to know more. She needed to know it all.
Because there was no other explanation for what she was.
“Pure iron doesn’t exist on Faerie, which is why we call them true immortals. The beginnings of the Iron Age in Ireland was quite a shock for the fae. No one knows why it affects them, a secret they’ve guarded well, but once humans realized it was a weapon, they began to use it to hunt the fae whenever they crossed through the gate.”
Conall’s gaze drew Thea’s, and she thought she saw a flicker of fear in his eyes. “In your theory, iron can kill fae?”
“Here on Earth, yes. Mostly it causes pain if a fae merely touches it. But if you stab a fae in the heart with a knife of pure iron, they cannot recover. It is a slow, painful death for the fae. Iron does not exist in their world. There they are true immortals. Here, they are merely immortal until someone sticks a piece of iron through their heart.”
“And you really believe Thea is fae?”
“Yes.” Vik smiled in boyish wonder. He strode toward Thea and stopped to study her. “To meet a real fae … I never thought it would happen. You’re as beautiful as the stories.” He flicked a glance at Conall. “All the fae are purported to be lovely. A beauty that cannot be explained. Their bodies made for sin—”
“Watch it,” Conall growled.
Vik threw his friend a puzzled look but merely shrugged as he turned back to Thea. “There are so many things you’re capable of and don’t know it. Abilities trapped inside that extraordinary mind.”
Thea didn’t like the way he was looking at her.
It reminded her too much of Ashforth.
Which also reminded her. “So why is Ashforth obsessed with me? Why do I have witches and warlocks and some guy named Eirik hunting me?”
The intensity snapped out of Vik’s eyes, replaced by a flatness he hid as he turned from her. He rounded the desk and slumped into his chair. “As Conall will tell you, our origin story has become legend to most supes. But those of us who know the truth know that the Fae Queen closed the gate between our realms two thousand years ago.”
“Why?”
“Eirik, the vampire hunting you, is said to be the oldest living vampire in the world.” Vik refused to look at her. “He’s immensely powerful. A normal stake won’t kill him because the bone around his rib cage has grown so strong. And he’s too fast to catch or to outrun. He was there.” Vik finally looked at her. “He and his brother Jerrik were there when the gate closed. My research suggests they were born in the late Bronze Age, early Iron Age in Denmark, and were warriors, leaders of their community. The brothers were twins, and they caught the eye of a vampire on her travels across the world. She took them back to Ireland, and they’d socialized with the fae on Faerie. Vampires loved Faerie because the sun there does not harm them. Jerrik wrote about it.”
He tapped the leather book on his desk. “This is a rare copy of his firsthand accounts of life at the fae royal houses. He knew Aine. In his writings, he states that the queen, after thousands of years interfering with human life, had grown concerned that the scheming and competition between the houses would continue to spawn more supernatural beings. Possibly more powerful than the next.
“And as beings of human origin, she doubted the faes’ ability to control them. These supes were originally human so their loyalty, ultimately, was still to humans, to Earth, not to the fae. Her houses had no intention of ceasing their meddling with humans or pulling them into their wicked, often violent games. What if the supes decided they’d had enough of watching humans be used? What if it led to war?
“When rumor grew among the supes that blood from a pure fae could heal people from the brink of death but only in our world, tension built between the races. There were power-hungry vampires and werewolves excited about keeping fae on Earth just to use their healing abilities. To extend werewolf life and to ensure vampire immortality. To keep humans they loved alive when disease and death came knocking.
“So Aine expelled humans and supernaturals back to Earth and closed the gate. It is thought amongst scholars in the know that the closure led to the Irish Dark Age, a period of economic and cultural stagnation that lasted to around AD 300. Jerrik wrote it relieved some humans to see the fae gone, while those starving to death cursed Aine for abandoning them.
“But that’s not the interesting part nor the part relevant to you, Thea. Jerrik also wrote that before Aine turned the humans out of Faerie, she cast a spell. Unable to bear an ending without a game, she held a final feast for favored humans and supernaturals. Jerrik and his brother Eirik were among them. There Aine informed the supes and humans alike that fae children would be born in the human world to human parents. Seven of them. She said that many years from now, seven children would arise with gifts supernaturals would recognize as fae. If the children proved themselves worthy, the gate to Faerie would reopen and they and their chosen companions, human or supernatural, could live among the fae. She offered any human who crossed over with the children the gift of immortality.”
Oh my God, Ashforth knew this. “Ashforth,” Thea whispered.
Conall ran a hand over his face, incredulous. “I cannae believe this.”
“It’s the truth. And what you’re describing, this businessman, the Blackwood Coven, and … Eirik … well, this is what the queen intended. No one knows what the children would have to do to even open the gate. We don’t know if t
hey’d all have to be together to do it or if just one is required to open it. Some believe the seven children need to be brought together at an exact point in Ireland where the gate opened. It’s what Jerrik believed. But he knew that Aine didn’t care about the endgame. She cared about the game and the carnage it would create over the centuries as supes and humans hunted for any sign of these children.
“The Blackwood Coven are like any powerful magical family—they believe their magic is a poor imitation of fae magic. They want to live among the faeries.” He snorted with laughter.
Thea didn’t find it particularly funny.
“And Eirik?” Conall practically growled.
Vik’s laughter instantly died. “His brother Jerrik believed the children needed to be protected. He created a cult of sorts, a religion, devout in its belief that these children are the key to reopening communication with the old ones. The Blackwood Coven belong to that cult. Although they might have been trying to harm you, Conall, they would never have intended Thea to be hurt. She’s too important to them. But Eirik … he has no desire to lose his place at the top of the food chain again. He doesn’t want the fae meddling in our world.
“He killed his brother … that’s how badly he doesn’t want it. He’s been hunting for signs of the children for centuries with one purpose—to kill them.”
“Even if this isnae true, they believe it is.” Conall turned to Thea, anger etched in every feature. “And they’ll just keep coming for Thea.”
Thea’s stomach dropped. She would be hunted for the rest of her life, she realized.
“There’s something else you should know,” Vik continued. “The Fae Queen didn’t just fear that humans and supernaturals would hunt fae for their blood. Jerrik wrote of a story he heard in the Day Lands, a story he believed was the real reason Aine closed the gate. A story that, if true, proves the fae are not true immortals on Faerie or Earth.”
Thea’s heart pounded at the thought. Not true immortals. Meaning they could die. She could die.
“A fae of Samhradh House fell in love with her werewolf consort. The tale goes she couldn’t bear the idea of immortality without him and asked him to bite her.”
Thea’s ears perked. “You mean … change her into a werewolf?”
“Yes. Exactly. And it worked. She was no longer a true immortal. When a very weary prince of Earrach House discovered this, he asked to be bitten too. He didn’t want to be immortal anymore, and the cauldron couldn’t truly end his suffering. So the wolf did it but the fae died.”
“From a wolf bite?” Thea’s eyes flew to Conall, his jaw locked with tension.
Vik nodded. “The Fae Queen was so furious she killed the wolf and his mate, and the pack they belonged to, and forbade anyone to speak of it. But Jerrik was in love with a fae of the Day Lands and she confessed this story to him. This was a few weeks before the gate closed.”
“You’re saying a werewolf can kill the fae? That’s why she really closed the gate.” Conall flicked a concerned look at Thea. She knew he didn’t know whether to believe Vik, but if it was true, just one slip-up and a bite of his teeth through her skin might have killed her. “I could kill Thea with one bite?”
“Or turn her into a werewolf.” Vik shrugged. “Fifty-fifty chance.”
“There’s a fifty-fifty chance I’m going to throw up,” Thea muttered, turning away from them.
Fae.
This guy believed she was an immortal fae.
She gave a snort of hysterical laughter.
But beneath the rising panic was a flare of hope.
If Vik was right, if this was true … then she wouldn’t have to live forever. There were ways to die when she was ready. Not that there was a chance she might get to choose when that time would be with a two-thousand-year-old vampire on her tail.
“Uh, closer to two thousand five hundred years old. Give or take a few decades,” Vik said, and Thea realized she’d said the last sentence out loud. “And you’re right. I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but no one can escape Eirik. Not even you, Thea. Maybe if you were working at your full capacity as a fae but from what you’ve told me, you’ve only tapped into a small part of what you’re capable of. And Eirik … if he knows you exist, he will never give up until you’re dead, and he will kill everyone who stands in his way.”
21
Vik promised to show them the firsthand account from Jerrik about the fae, but he needed to sleep first. Thea and Conall agreed to return to the apartment after nightfall and left Vik to his rest. The vampire recommended a restaurant that served “pulled pork sandwiches that will change your life” in the center of Oslo.
They located the restaurant near the Royal Palace on Slottsplassen, a square in the heart of the tourist area, a rustic, casual place with an energy that was too overwhelming for a stunned Thea.
Her mind was reeling. The food came and Conall sat silently across from her, eating the pulled pork sandwich as if they hadn’t just been given the most incredible information. The wolf could eat through a natural disaster.
She stared at her plate, her stomach roiling.
After every impossible thing that had happened to her, that she might be a faerie just seemed a step too far.
“Thea, you need to eat.” Conall nudged her plate impatiently toward her. “You need your strength.”
At his implacable stare, she’d picked up the sandwich and forced it down. It was delicious but it also sat heavy in her nervous stomach. The noise of the lunch crowd was making her jittery. She needed to think. To work out what the hell it all meant.
Conall seemed to sense this and paid for their meal, ushering her quickly outside. Thea drew in cold lungfuls of air and tried to ignore how comforting Conall’s hand was on her lower back.
“Talk to me, Thea.”
She looked up into his face, wondering when it became so familiar to her. Thea realized she trusted him. Despite the whole Sienna prevarication. “Let’s walk.”
He fell into step beside her as they meandered up toward the Royal Palace. People didn’t look at Conall so much here and she wondered if it was because they were in the home of the Vikings. Big tall guys were a thing here, right?
“Thea?”
She withdrew from her silly musings and sighed. “Do you believe him?”
“I think the better question is, do you?”
Thea exhaled slowly. “Conall … I know what he said sounds insane, but …”
“But?”
“It feels true. I don’t know how to explain that … it just feels true.” She gazed up at him. “My body is certain, while my mind is screaming that it’s ludicrous. And … there’s something else.”
He nodded at her to continue.
“There was a young woman in Prague, around my age. The night those vamps attacked me, she pulled me out of the crowd in the club and she was strong, Conall. Very strong.” Thea pictured the woman’s lovely elfin face. “I sensed something from her. I think she was fae.”
Conall’s brows drew together. “How did she feel?”
“Feel?”
“Yes. Her energy should feel stronger than other supernaturals. It would draw you to her in a crowd. To me you feel like the moon just before the change. An ancient, compelling energy, integral to everything.”
Thea gaped at him in awe. “I feel like that to you?”
“Aye. I imagine you feel somewhat different to vampires, but still powerful. They probably presume it has something to do with your blood.”
She considered that a moment and shook her head. “Conall, that’s not how this woman felt to me. It was more that she felt so familiar. I just … she touched me and I felt like I was home. That feeling I used to get when I’d finish my homework and come downstairs to sit at the dinner table with Mom and Dad as they listened to me talk about my day and made me laugh. Made me feel safe. I don’t know how else to explain it. It was weird. So, so weird. And that wasn’t even the strangest part.”
She stopped in the
middle of the street and he drew to a halt beside her. “She told me I could trust you. But she spoke to me in my head.” Thea tapped her temple. “I heard her speak in my mind. How did she do that?”
“A telepath?”
“I guess. And a psychic. She said you weren’t my enemy. How did she know me and how did she know you?”
“She could have been a witch or even a werewolf. Some wolves, like myself, are born with extra abilities.”
Thea shook her head. “That doesn’t explain that feeling of family I got from her.”
Conall began to walk, his strides so long Thea had to hurry to catch up. “If you’re saying what I think you’re saying, then you and this woman are in terrible danger.”
“She’s like me. I know she’s like me. I mean, I didn’t at the time, but now I know. Like I know Vik is right, that I’m … fae. It sounds ridiculous, but I know.” She lightly punched her fist against her gut. “I know it in here.”
He was silent as they walked.
Her heart fell. “You don’t believe me.”
He cut her a bleak look. “Aye, I do. I just wish it wasnae true.”
She recoiled. “You … are you disgusted by what I am? Afraid of me?”
“God, no.” Conall scowled. “Not disgusted, Thea. Or afraid of you. But I’m fucking afraid for you. How do I protect you from this? This is bigger than anything I could have imagined.”
She understood. “Conall, as soon as we get to Scotland, we make the exchange and I’ll get Ashforth out of there. Your pack won’t get caught up in this mess.”
“The pack.” He stopped in the middle of the street, glaring down at her. She felt the air around him grow eerily still and glanced down at his hands to see he was curling them tightly, as if quelling the shift. Her gaze met his furious one. “It isnae about the pack,” he bit out, the words ending in snarls from the wolf’s awakening. “I care what happens to you, Thea, far fucking more than I should.”