Amy Sumida - Tracing Thunder (The Godhunter Series Book 13)

by Unknown

  The forest had completely recovered from the bite of winter and was in full verdant display. Fey creatures were out in abundance, setting the forest alive with motion and sound. I guess I should say more motion, since the trees moved subtly on their own, every time they breathed. I was finally getting used to the breathing trees. They'd kinda creeped me out a bit at first but now it seemed perfectly normal. I found myself looking for the movement of those massive trunks as the smell of ripe fruit and exotic flowers wafted into the carriage. Then I caught a glimpse of red through the trees.

  “The apples are back,” I said with satisfaction.

  “Yes,” Arach glanced out the window. “All is as it should be. We're still getting used to the changing seasons though. It seems like you blink and the trees are different.”

  “That's how it's supposed to be, honey,” I nudged him with my shoulder. “Unless you live in Hawaii, of course.”

  “That's what we keep telling ourselves,” he slid a sultry look my way. “But we fey are hard to change. You of all people should know that.”

  “Maybe you're worth the effort.”

  “Maybe?” He narrowed his eyes on me.

  In a couple hours we arrived at the Castle of Eight. The gate was open and the guards called down a greeting to us. We passed through the tunnel of the living tree and came out into the courtyard with its elemental gardens. We went past them and came to a stop at the foot of the stairs, also made from the tree. They led up to the main entrance of the central tree. Danal was waiting there for us.

  He helped me out of the carriage and I gave him a kiss on the cheek hello. Danal had always been a little stuffy but ever since his cousin had been altered during winter, he'd changed. His cousin had been treated badly and when Danal had seen the way we'd treated our own altered fey, with respect and support, he'd warmed up towards me. Not that he was cold before, he's always been kind to me, ever since that first day when he found me at the End of the Road, but now he was more affectionate. More like a friend. I don't know how else to describe it but he smiled when I pulled away and that was something Danal would never have done had I attempted something so improper as kissing his cheek before.

  The new and improved Danal led us, with our small honor guard of red caps, down the pristine hallways of the central tree. There were very few pieces of artwork up on the breathing walls but what there hung off of little growths on the wall, a feature I'd never noticed before. I smiled to myself, thinking there was still so much about Faerie that I'd yet to learn. I liked that, liked the thought that I had new discoveries yet to make.

  After a few curving hallways, we came to a cozy room lined in bookshelves(also grown from the tree). Our guards stood outside while we went in. There were thick carpets on the floor and free-standing chairs placed over them. You may think this to be a normal thing, the free-standing chairs, but within the Castle of Eight most of the furniture was a part of the tree, growing directly out of the floor or walls like the bookshelves were. For there to be wooden, carved chairs, separate from the great tree itself, almost felt like an affront to the tree. I stared at them a bit, not even noticing their occupants, so taken was I with their craftsmanship. Not an unusual thing for me, to be impressed with the furniture, but this didn't look fey. It looked...

  “Human,” King Cian said as he stood up from one of the chairs.

  “I'm sorry?” I blinked and finally noticed him. “What was that, King Cian?”

  “I said these chairs were made by humans,” he laughed. “You seemed so distracted by them, I thought maybe I'd end your confusion.”

  “Oh,” I nodded and sat in the chair he offered me. “They're beautiful. The whole room is actually.”

  I looked around and started to notice all the human items that were on display. There were sextons, music boxes, a spyglass, a piano, a globe, various pieces of armor, weaponry, and even puppets. The room was like a mini museum of human objects. There were some beautiful paintings displayed on easels but I didn't recognize the artists. Only that they must have been human. No fey would allow a painting to crack with age.

  “It's good to see you again, Vervain,” Nuada said from the chair across from mine.

  “Nuada!” I felt my face redden. “I'm so sorry,” I leaned forward to shake his hand. “I was just shocked by the room. I didn't even see you there.”

  “Now there's something a woman has never said to me,” he chuckled. “I don't think I enjoy being ignored for a room.”

  “I have a feeling your ego can handle it,” I smirked at him and then caught Arach's glare out of the corner of my eye. “Um, this is my husband, King Arach of the House of Fire,” I waved a hand toward Arach and he gave me a knowing look.

  “Nuada of the Silver Arm,” Nuada stood and held out his normal, non-silver hand to Arach.

  “I can see that,” Arach looked over the hand not offered as he shook the one that was. “A well made one at that. It's a pleasure to meet you.”

  “And you as well,” Nuada nodded. “I've heard a lot about you.”

  “From Vervain?” Arach lifted a brow.

  “No,” Nuada laughed. “Vervain and I only shared one conversation a few months back and although she did mention you, the subject was more focused on dream gods at the time.”

  “Oh yes,” Arach slid a look at me. “I remember the situation.” He hadn't been happy about that either but that was something all my men had to deal with, the difficulties of being there for each other when it was often impossible to be actually, physically there.

  “I was referring to the conversations I've been having with King Cian,” Nuada waved to the High King, who'd taken a seat beside Nuada's. “But never mind that, I'd like to introduce you two to a friend of mine. This is Cailleach Bheur,” he gestured to a chair off to the side, hidden in shadows.

  A woman leaned forward and then stood, coming into the soft light of the fey lanterns hovering above us. First I saw her hair, the bright golden blonde of it catching the light as real gold would. Then her face was illuminated, beautiful and sweet. Skin pale and perfect, a light flush on her rounded cheeks, and eyes bright as the clear fey sky.

  I nearly screamed.

  “You're dead!” I accused her as I jumped to my feet. “I watched you die. I tasted your blood on my lips.”

  “Peace, Godhunter,” Nuada held up a hand and stood between us. “She's not who you think.”

  “I'm not Brighid,” Brighid's face said. “I am the Blue Faced Hag, Brighid's counterpart. When Brighid died, the magic returned to me. There must be a summer to my winter, you see. I felt the return of it but I wasn't sure until Beltane arrived, that I would change into Brighid for her ruling period.”

  “Wait,” I leaned forward a little while Arach's hand went to my lower back in a supportive manner. “You're not Brighid?”

  “I actually wanted to thank you,” she held out her slim hand. “Brighid had gone insane and was tainting our magic. Now the magic is pure again and I get to be beautiful once more. A fact that my husband also thanks you for. It's not easy to be married to a hag.”

  “Uh,” I gaped at her, still trying to process the fact that this wasn't the crazy goddess who tried to turn the world into zombies. “You're welcome?”

  “You're right, Nu,” Cailleach Bheur, not Brighid, said. “She's funny. I like her.”

  “I knew you would,” Nuada nodded. “Shall we sit?”

  “Yes, of course,” King Cian motioned us back into our seats.

  “So you change into her every Beltane?” I sat and continued to stare at her.

  “And then return to my old form,” she giggled, “quite literally old, when Samhain arrives. At least that's what I assume since this will be the first year.”

  “She's thrilled. Aren't you, Beira?” Nuada smiled fondly at her.

  “Oh so much!” She laughed and patted her glorious hair.

  “Beira?” I was confused again. “I thought you were Cailleach?”

  “Beira is another of my
names,” she grinned. “I think it's prettier, don't you?”

  “Oh. Sure,” I looked over to Arach but he was just grinning at me in the way he always does when I'm floundering with my social graces. The hoity toity bastard. Luckily, a soft whine saved me.

  A little white puppy crawled out from beneath the High Kings chair to peer up at us all with its huge, puppy eyes. They were that milky blue color that a lot of newborns have. An undetermined color. Yet they were so alive, practically sparking with energy.

  “You did bring him a pup,” I said to Nuada. “How wonderful.”

  “Yes, she's lovely, isn't she?” King Cian reached down and picked up the puppy, plopping her into his lap. “I haven't decided on a name yet.”

  Before I could comment on the importance of names, a high, bell-like ringing filled the air. We all looked toward a side table, where the sound was originating from. Actually, it was coming from the framed mirror propped on the table. The glassy surface misted over and then cleared to reveal King Guirmean's blue face. Not that he looked sad, not that kind of blue. He actually had dark blue skin. It went well with his pale green hair and stunning turquoise eyes. He may not have looked sad but he did look anxious. Very anxious.

  He started speaking rapidly in the fey language but King Cian stopped him with a wave toward me. Guirmean looked over toward me in surprise and nodded a quick greeting before continuing in English.

  “Maelstroms are occurring in random locations in our ocean, for no reason at all,” Guirmean was looking more and more panicked. The poor guy, he was a relatively new king and he kept having to deal with issues that even seasoned monarchs would have trouble with. “The water just starts circulating, pulling in unsuspecting sea creatures and twirling them in its vortex. I've spent most of the day pulling fey out of danger.”

  “And there's been no other unusual circumstances previous to this?” King Cian frowned, his perfect, pale face crinkling in a pleasing way. I don't think I've ever seen the High King look bad.

  “Nothing I can think of,” Guirmean's eyes settled on me. “Queen Vervain, do you think you could come to the Water Kingdom and do some of that human investigating you did back when the Darkness was killing fey?”

  “Um,” I glanced at Arach and he nodded his agreement. That meant I wouldn't be stepping on the High King's toes by going to Guirmean's aid. It was hard to tell sometimes, what with the intricacies of fey politics, so I'd taken to checking out Arach's expression first. Not always the best indication but usually I could tell when he gave his approval. “Of course, King Guirmean. How could I refuse after you so gallantly came to my rescue recently?”

  “All I did was bring some fey to Asgard,” he waved it away. “But I'm relieved you made it home without a fight.”

  “I wouldn't have minded a small skirmish,” Arach grumbled and I nudged him with my elbow.

  “Yes, we heard about your abduction at the hands of some nefarious Viking god,” King Cian focused on me with interest. The fey loved a good story. “What happened exactly?”

  “I'd love to tell you all about it, High King,” I looked meaningfully at Guirmean. “But I think I'd better hurry to the Water Kingdom. Will you be joining us?”

  “Oh, of course,” he blinked away his interest and put on his regal face. “I won't be going along, no. I think I'll stay with our guests but please mirror me as soon as you've completed your investigation.”

  “We will,” Arach promised as he stood.

  He helped me up and I said a quick goodbye to Nuada and Beira aka the Blue-Faced Hag aka Cailleach Bheur aka the new Brighid.

  “I hope we get to spend a little more time together before Nuada and I leave,” Beira said. “I've heard such fascinating stories about you.”

  “I'd like that,” I nodded.

  “You're welcome to visit the Fire Kingdom after your visit here,” Arach offered, much to my surprise. He wasn't one to enjoy the company of gods.

  “Thank you, King Arach,” Nuada got up to shake our hands. “I think we may take you up on that. Good luck on helping King Guirmean.”

  “Thank you,” I nodded to Nuada and then turned back to King Guirmean's reflection. “We'll be there as soon as we can.”

  “I'll be waiting.” Then the mirror cleared.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  When we arrived at Castle Deuraich, it was to face another unforeseen altercation. Nora.

  Nora was the Captain of our Calvary. In other words, she was in charge of the phookas. She was beautiful and sassy and basically a bad ass. She was also King Guirmean's lover. That is until he performed a fertility ritual with another fey.

  I'd thought they'd worked out their differences. I'd talked with Nora about it and she seemed to understand that Guirmean needed another water fey to do the fertility ritual and the fertility ritual needed to be done for the good of the Water Kingdom. So I'd thought Guirmean was forgiven.

  Evidently there was more to the story.

  As soon as we entered the castle, Nora swept around our entire fire fey group and went up to King Guirmean. She stared him down for a good long while, during which he noticeably cringed, obviously preparing for the worst, and then she punched him. Hard. He fell with a heavy thump and didn't get up right away.

  That's when all hell broke loose.

  Or maybe, given my history, I should say all hells. Singular or plural, the result was the same. Every water fey guard in the room pulled his sword and started towards Nora. The precious seconds Guirmean spent floundering on the floor like a dying fish(okay maybe that wasn't the best choice of words), left him unable to impose himself between Nora and his guards. This didn't faze Nora one bit. She pulled her own sword and settled into a battle stance. I admit it, I was internally rooting her on. It was just so damn impressive.

  “Halt!” Guirmean yelled as he got to his feet and wiped the blood from his nose. “Stand down,” he grumbled as he pushed past his guards. “You all know why she's mad. Were you seriously going to harm my lover because she's upset that I impregnated another woman? What is wrong with you guys?”

  “What?!” I shrieked like I had when I saw the last Walking Dead season finale. I couldn't help it. I knew about the fertility ritual but no one had told me Guirmean had actually managed to knock up the fey woman. “Are you freaking kidding me? Damn that's a good spell.” Nora glared at me. “Well, you gotta admit it did its job. You can't possibly be mad at Guirmean for it? It's not like he had a choice in the matter.”

  “Thank you!” Guirmean threw his hands up in the air. “See, Nora? It was an accident. It's not like I'm continuing the relationship.”

  “Accident? Nora huffed.

  “Oh, you accidentally-” the air whooshed out of me when Arach knocked his elbow into my side. “What the hell?”

  “Muscle spasm,” he said with complete seriousness.

  “Not continuing?” Nora gasped. “What about the child?”

  “What is this, the 50's?” I tried to laugh but it came out a little forced. “Come on, Nora. He doesn't have to marry her just because she's having his baby.”

  The room went silent.

  “Does he?” I gaped at Arach.

  “She's bearing his heir, A Thaisce,” Arach's eyes were sympathetic but firm. “Every king needs an heir.”

  A chill went over my arms as that comment sunk deep and struck home. We shared a moment of tense and silent communication, Arach's eyes sympathetic but yearning and mine begging for understanding. Then I remembered that this wasn't about us. It was about Guirmean and Nora.

  “He can't claim the heir without marrying the mother?” I tried to get back on subject.

  “I believe your people would call that child a bastard,” Arach said softly. “Fey politics don't differ much from this. The child must be born to a king and a queen to be in line for the throne. The law was created during a time when we were more fertile and... more...”

  “Adulterous?” I provided helpfully.

  “Free with our pleasure,” h
e shrugged. “It was made in an effort to preserve bloodlines and prevent wars.”

  “But it's a different realm now,” Guirmean finally added his voice to the conversation and I was relieved with what he was saying. “Times have changed, much of that due to your wife, King Arach. It's time some of our laws changed as well. I won't be taking Lorna for my wife.”

  Nora's sword dropped from her hand and clattered loudly to the stone floor. “You won't?” She whispered.

  “No,” Guirmean smiled as he approached her. He slid his hands around her leather-clad waist and pulled her gently forward. “How could I when I'm so completely in love with you?”

  I think I might have whimpered happily but I restrained myself with a hand to my mouth. I had no desire to intrude on their wonderful moment. I was a little surprised though when I felt Arach's hand slide into mine. I looked up to see him staring at Nora and Guirmean with a tender expression. Aw, my dragon had a soft side. He glanced down at me and I smiled up at him. His hand slid from mine and went to my waist, pulling me into his side. I laid my head on his chest and continued to watch Nora and Guirmean with unabashed happiness.

  “You should marry the mother of your heir,” Nora's voice had lost its strength and I wasn't sure who she was trying to convince, Guirmean or herself.

  “Lorna will live in Castle Deuraich,” Guirmean backed up so he could look into her eyes better. “She'll raise the child with me but she knows I don't love her. She knew that when she agreed to the ritual and frankly, she's just thrilled to be having a baby. She doesn't care about marriage or becoming queen. It's going to be alright, Nora. I'd sooner give up my throne than give up on us.”

  Low gasps circled the room and a tear trickled down my cheek. Now that was a man I was proud to call friend and I was so happy for him and Nora. I was happy as well that I had a powerful ally in my efforts to change the fey. It wasn't a battle I could fight alone and Guirmean standing up to the old laws like that would be a hell of a win for my cause. Our cause.