Dark Faery II:
The Mercifuls
by
Bridget McGowan
Copyright 2010 by Bridget McGowan
Cover Design by Jeffrey L. Price
Dedication
To my friends who inspired me, and whose names decorate these pages.
1
Simon Mallow paced his office in the Vampyre cave. Zoe watched from her perch on an upper shelf. Simon was moping again.
It had been more than four years since the fiasco with Teilo Feather. For a time Simon had gone to stay with another coven of Vampyres in a far-off land. Those who went with him weren’t sure which had been worse: staying or going away.
Simon had been consumed with Teilo from the moment he first saw him. He wanted to turn Teilo. Teilo had been tempted, but had never completely given himself over to it. For a few years he’d been a thrall, but in the end Simon had been forced to let him go. Simon would never force a Faery to become Vampyre.
The result of letting Teilo return to the light Faery had been nearly perpetual sadness for Simon. He needed a new interest.
Simon, a perennial 23-year-old – give or take a hundred and fifty years – was slender and tallish in a Faery fashion, with dark hair and smoky grey eyes that pierced through his subject’s thoughts. Zoe found Simon attractive. He had turned her to save her from being butchered by the High Priestess serving the goddess. It pained her to see him so tortured. He’d never felt about her as he had about Teilo, yet she couldn’t hate or even be jealous of Teilo. But she wanted to find some way to alleviate Simon’s suffering.
“You need a hobby,” she said, pretending to file her nails.
He stopped as if startled. It was an act between them. Simon was acutely aware of his surrounding, always.
“What would you have me do?” he asked.
“You could become a tooth Faery,” she said, fluttering to sit on the edge of his desk. “Think of it: feed, collect teeth, and leave a coin. Think of it as payment for the meal.”
He chuckled, but the amusement didn’t reach his eyes.
“We have drawers of teeth and shivs,” he said, referring to Faery currency.
“It was a joke. You can’t hide forever. You’re letting his loss eat away at you.”
He looked at her. They’d had this conversation several times before, and she hated the look. She didn’t want to think Simon had any weaknesses. To see this one exposed with such rawness hurt her to witness.
“There are other Faeries,” she said.
“No.”
“What do you mean, no?”
“Zoe, I couldn’t bear to go through that again. It’s too soon.”
“It’s five years. His son has started under the tutelage of Professor Moonspurn. His daughter is nearly in school.”
“Yes, his life goes on happily.”
“He didn’t want to leave,” Zoe said.
“He didn’t want to be one of us.”
“Do you begrudge him his life?”
He sighed and crossed the room to study a picture in which he had no interest. “No, I don’t. I wonder why I want those who don’t want this life?”
“Teilo is good folk. He was good to us even if he never joined us.”
“He was. Damn it, Zoe, I just want – ” He turned and looked at her helplessly.
“You want what? Someone who loves you? Simon, which of us you’ve created doesn’t love you?”
“Love. I’m looking for more than that. Teilo and I had a camaraderie I have no hope of finding again. It wasn’t – well you were in love with me when I turned you. Teilo was something different, entirely. He was something elusive.”
He threw himself onto the sofa like a petulant child his legs drawn up, his fist against his teeth.
“When did you feed last?” the ever realistic Zoe asked, joining him on the sofa, only less petulantly.
Simon shrugged. “I’m not in the mood.”
“Not in the mood? Simon, you’re a Vampyre!”
“I know what I am.”
“And wasting away will do what?”
“I won’t die. You needn’t worry,” he said, but the sparkle in his eye betrayed him.
“What will you do, Simon?”
“I don’t know. But don’t worry. I’ll be all right.”
The next evening Zoe couldn’t find Simon. The others hadn’t seen him, either.
“He’ll reappear when he wants to be found. He’s too canny to be caught by Humans,” Luke said.
They didn’t see him for three more days. While they waited, they rehearsed for a concert. There hadn’t been one in three years. Simon had been dejected when Teilo and his wife hadn’t attended any of their concerts. He’d been so disconsolate he hadn’t participated in any of their concerts since. In deference, they’d stopped performing. This next one was anticipated by the light Faery because it had been so long.
“He’ll be here,” Kele said with confidence.
“The concert will happen regardless,” Fiona said. “But it would be nice if he were there. The audience expects him.”
“I am certain he’ll please his audience,” Kele reiterated.
The others rehearsed until their parts were perfect. By the time the evening arrived, they anticipated performing as much as their fans did.
“He’s here,” Zoe said as they approached the stage.
“How do you know?” Luke asked.
“How does she always know?” Fiona replied. “If Zoe says he’s here, he’s here.”
“Will he play with us?” Kele asked.
“That remains to be seen,” Zoe replied.
She looked out. There were more light Faeries assembled than she’d ever seen. Of course, the one for whom Simon would have performed an entire concert was missing.
The band picked up their instruments. Just as they began the first song, Simon flitted down into their midst. The crowd cheered and he picked up his instrument to play with the band. He performed as if he’d been to every rehearsal. He played as if nothing touched his heart. He played as if Teilo Feather had never existed.
For most of the concert Simon played with his eyes closed. Near the end he opened them and surveyed the crowd as he sang his song, You Are Mine. Zoe watched and tried to follow his line of vision to see who he focused on, but no one in particular stood out in the group of people to whom he seemed to sing.
When he finished the song, the band disappeared amid the cheers of the crowd. When they reached the cave, the members of Shauna Faun were exhilarated. They chattered excitedly about how well it had gone, and congratulated Simon on his performance. They knew some of the audience members would come to the cave. There were thralls ready to bring them.
A group of about ten arrived and appeared suddenly shy among the Vampyres. Of course the light Faery had no idea that they moved among Vampyres. They were awed by the celebrity of the band.
“Welcome,” Simon said.
Lana passed among them and handed out goblets of dandelion. They settled in groups of two or three with a band member, asking questions and asking for autographs.
Simon sat with Luke and his group, but didn’t say anything. He seemed calm but watchful. Finally, he rose and went back to his office. He didn’t appear aware of anyone or anything around him. He sat at his desk and put his head in his hands. Too much time to think before dawn: there was always a letdown after a concert.
But he wasn’t as unaware as he appeared. It hadn’t escaped him that he’d been followed. He wanted to see what would happen. The intruder didn’t realize Simon knew every twitch he made.
Simon didn’t move. The intruder wa
ndered the perimeter of the room and stopped at a shelf where a small black box rested. He picked it up, curious about its contents.
“Put it down,” Simon said.
The intruder turned, but Simon’s position hadn’t changed. “What is it?”
“It’s nothing of yours. Who are you?” Simon looked at the boy.
“Flynn Whitethorn of the Mercifuls. My father is a healer.”
“And you? Are you also a healer?”
The boy laughed. “No. I’m the youngest. I have two older brothers and two older sisters. I have a brother and a sister who are healers. One works for the Benevolents, and one for the Celestials. My next oldest brother will take over from my father one day. My other sister and I are on our own.”
“Indeed. And to what do you aspire? Thievery?” Simon asked.
Flynn started, then returned the box to the shelf.
“I’d like to be a singer – a musician.”
Simon chuckled. “So, you thought you’d apply to join Shauna Faun?”
Flynn looked startled. “I could only dream of such a thing,” he said. “I just wondered what advice you could give me to start my own band.”
“So you wouldn’t want to become one of Shauna Faun?” Simon asked, standing.
“I’d love to be part of Shauna Faun. But I’ve heard no one joins the band.”
“You didn’t hear that from any who knows. If someone has talent, we welcome it.”
Flynn was something different. Simon saw the spark in the boy. The shaggy brown hair with the points of his ears poking through, the light eyes that reminded him of – no these eyes were blue, not green and without the upturn. These eyes were large and round as if he were surprised by life. Flynn was small and slender.
He wore a purple shirt with black trousers and black boots, a high turned-collar coat in red with wide lapels and wide cuffs that had three decorative buttons each, like the Human Edwardian style. Simon could tell the boy took great care of his outfit.
“Tell me, Flynn, how old are you?”
“Seventeen, nearly.”
“And what do you know of Shauna Faun?”
“I know that you have the best music in all of Faerydom.”
“And what else do people say of us?”
“Phineas Nightshade says to be cautious. He once heard of a collector of teeth who worked for you, and someone from Shauna Faun kidnapped his wife.”
“That is untrue,” Simon replied calmly, although he was enraged by the accusations. Even after the truth was proven, folk persisted in believing the worst of them. “Someone known to the High Priestess of the Benevolents took her, and if you were to ask Teilo Feather’s wife, she could bear true witness about the act.”
Flynn looked chastised. “I would never ask Mrs. Feather,” he said. “To do so would be an insult to her.”
“Forgive me,” Simon said. “I did not mean literally that you should go ask her. But you should not repeat what is false.”
“Did Mr. Feather really work for you?”
“He did.”
“Could I see his workshop?”
“No,” Simon replied kindly. “It is only storage now, and not suitable for visitors. But I would tell you to ask Teilo about me. He could recommend or not. Even his wife would have some insight. And if you do visit them, give them my kindest regards.”
“I will,” Flynn said.
“And if, after the next concert, you wish to join us, come and we will determine your abilities.”
Simon walked with the boy to the main area where his friends were just preparing to leave. The others hadn’t noticed his absence, but the Vampyres had. Kele nodded as Simon returned to his office alone.
Simon brooded about the boy. Like most, he had no idea what he was offering himself for. Most other Vampyres would’ve taken the boy at his word. Indeed, they would likely have turned him that very night lest he change his mind.
Simon wanted to be fair. He’d been forced to flee the light Faery, and although he’d come to terms with his eternity, he didn’t want others as naïve to rage against fate. Even Ethan, the Vampyre he’d had to destroy before Teilo’s son was born, had seemed willing enough to bare his neck. But madness had overcome him as it did to some.
Teilo wouldn’t remember large portions of information he’d learned as a thrall, but Jessica would. She’d protect none but the boy. She had no love for Shauna Faun, even though Simon had released Teilo from his promise as soon as they knew she lived.
2
Flynn strode through the village square on his way home from school. A month more and he’d finish his lessons and be ready to begin an apprenticeship. He had no interest in the medicinal arts, although he, like all Mercifuls, knew the basics of healing if not the finer arts of it.
As he crossed the square, the priestess of his clan, Aoife, crossed his path, and he bowed deeply to her. Moira was not only her mother but also the High Priestess to the Benevolents, the most highly regarded of the Faery clans. Aoife carried herself proudly. Tall, lithe, with golden brown hair that today cascaded freely down her back and surprised-looking brown eyes, she had a ready smile for everyone, particularly boys who practiced courtesy.
“Hello, Flynn. It is good to see you.”
“And you, Aoife.”
She started on her way and something occurred to him.
“Might I walk with you, Aoife?”
She stopped and smiled. “Of course. What is it you seek?”
Young Faeries often had troubles or wishes they thought the priestess could solve. While often their petitions were easy enough, sometimes they expected miracles.
“You are of the Benevolents, aren’t you?”
“Yes. My father was a Merciful, though. That is why I minister here.”
“Yes,” he said, as if her explanation were an annoying bug with no business in the conversation. “I wondered if you know a certain Teilo Feather.”
She smiled. “I do. He is married to my sister.”
“Oh,” he said, stopping short. “Do you know him well?”
“Not as much as others, really. He is kind and makes my sister happy. But I spent many years ministering to the infirm. I was not out in the world as much when I lived in the village of the Benevolents.”
“He’s an honest fellow, though?”
“Very honest and highly respected.”
“I’ve heard he once worked for Shauna Faun.”
Her face became stony. “He did. But he does no longer.”
“Why?”
“He made his fortune and theirs. He had no more need of them.”
“And they had no more need of him?”
“Doubtless they would have kept him forever, but my sister was uncomfortable with his working for them, and he saw the sense of it.”
“Why would she be uncomfortable?”
“You would have to ask her the reasons.”
“Is it true that they kidnapped her?”
“No, although some thought it. They helped to find her.”
“But you don’t like them?”
“I am wary of them. They are not like us.”
“Why? What’s different?”
“Teilo could, perhaps, enlighten you.”
“Thank you. Good day to you, Aoife.”
She continued on her way and he watched her, admiring her grace.
Aoife had jumped the Beltane fire the same year Jessica had given birth to her daughter. The stag had been a Merciful, like Aoife’s father. Aoife’s child had been a son, born six months after Jessica’s daughter. The Merciful clan needed a High Priestess of their own, and Moira Holly, High Priestess to the Faery of the Western Lands had read the signs and portents to mean Aoife had been chosen by the goddess for this position.
Aoife’s son, Hugh, was a high-spirited boy of four, and it was time to think, now that she was a clan priestess, of seeking a mate at the Beltane fires once again.
As a mother, she would not mate with the stag, but as a priestess
, she would share a Beltane tent with one of the chosen. The thought made her smile, but she wondered how Hugh would react to a brother or sister.
Hugh already demonstrated a headstrong temperament, whereas Jessica’s son was quiet and thoughtful, as if considering everything about him. Aoife found it odd that Hugh’s character was so like Jessica’s, while Bran’s was like Aoife’s. Even Moira had remarked that Jessica’s son might well become a druid in time.
Flynn was a troublesome thought to Aoife. She’d heard nothing of Shauna Faun in several years. She’d assumed they’d moved on after – after they broke their bond with Teilo. She’d never known the full story, but she knew what they were, and wished good riddance to them. Now to hear one of her newfound clan asking questions disturbed her. Teilo had never said another word about them, and she wondered if he’d forgotten them altogether. Now here was Flynn to stir memories.
3
Teilo would one day be the clan elder. At 26 he was decades too young for the honor, yet people showed deference to him his older brother could only wish for.
Teilo’s older brother, Ronan, still worked for his father, who seemed at the prime of his life, his tooth collecting business thriving. Teilo, when he’d worked for Shauna Faun, had collected, sorted and ground teeth, and made shivs, encompassing the jobs of his brother, his father and Master Hawthorne, the shiv maker. Teilo, as master of all three facets of the tooth industry, did not compete with his father or Master Hawthorne. Instead, he helped each when shorthanded, and sometimes he offered advice.
Of his time with the Vampyres Teilo remembered only the work and none of the details of Vampyre life. Of course, he’d been a thrall, and as such had only supplied his blood to Simon on a very few occasions, far less than most thralls did. Simon hadn’t wanted to take away too much of Teilo’s free will. Teilo missed the work and wished he could remember details, like what Simon looked like. He was sure he’d recognize him if he ever saw him again, but the memory failed him on any description.
So it was on a bright evening in April, when the winter finally seemed on its sluggish way that he was surprised by a knock on his door.
Dark Faery II: The Mercifuls (DarkFaery Book 2) Page 1