Riftkeepers: Reckoning

by Carrie Whitethorne

  Dane didn’t hang around when Callan came back to their suite. He’d deposited Arthur in the dungeons and didn’t appear to be in the mood for company. Charlotte watched him pour a drink as she sat on the sofa. She explained what had happened after he’d left the chamber. Callan was furious. “He tried to kill you, Charlotte!” he yelled, slamming his glass down on the coffee table.

  “Yes, and he didn’t succeed, so that’s the end of it,” she said firmly. “I won’t have his head lopped off for a failed attempt.”

  He glared at her. “So, what, we leave him there to rot?”

  “No. You banish him. Let him live powerless and alone in a world he hates.”

  “Why?”

  “Because Rona told me that I was good, and that is the key apparently. The key to what, I have no idea, but you know she wouldn’t have said that without there being a reason. I won’t have him killed on my account, Callan.”

  Rubbing the back of his neck, he paused, considering her argument. “Okay. Fine. We’ll send him somewhere remote and warded.”

  She folded her arms. “Promise?”

  “I promise. No killing. Possibly a beating, but I won’t kill him,” he reluctantly agreed.

  “Good,” she said with a satisfied grin. “Now I need something to eat because I threw up when you left. What are we having for lunch?”

  Twenty-seven

  They were visiting Caoimhe and Taran when Markus’ summons came. Charlotte, gripping the back of the sofa, closed her eyes and took a steadying breath before calling the children to her.

  With as much calm as she could muster, she said, “Daddy and I have to go and deal with some more bad people. We need you to go to the portal at Houska and keep your wards steady, Zander. Can you do that for us?”

  Zander nodded. “Nana and Grandad will be with you. We won’t be far away.” She glanced up at Callan and he offered a smile. “Enya, we need you to stay with Zander. You keep each other safe, okay?”

  “Who is it, Mummy?” Enya asked. Her voice shook slightly with apprehension and Charlotte pulled her close.

  “Nobody important, baby. I’ll come back to you as soon as I can, okay? Daddy, too. It won’t take long.” She reached for Zander and held them both for a few moments before Callan placed a hand on her shoulder. “I love you. I’ll see you soon,” she whispered, kissing their foreheads and rising to stand with Callan.

  Caoimhe, her emerald eyes betraying the fear she had buried deep, took Zander’s hand.

  With a stiff nod, Taran took Enya’s and they disappeared.

  As her stomach knotted with despair, Callan took her home.

  “I’ll be back in a few minutes. Get changed. I’ll wait downstairs for you.”

  His mournful tone made her chest tighten. She nodded and stepped towards the wardrobe for her armour. When she looked over her shoulder, he was gone.

  Alone, fear took over.

  I’m ready. Keep them alive. That’s all I need to do. Between us, we can get her down, if I keep them alive.

  Changing quickly, she attached her pin to the high neck of her tunic, lowered her pendant over her head, and tucked her bracelet beneath her cuff, and tied back her hair. Her movements felt sluggish, her body responding to the fear that gripped her chest, her heart. Lacing her boots, she glanced into the still open wardrobe. Her mother’s old chest beckoned to her and she hauled it out.

  Sitting it on the bed, she opened it, the musty smell from inside was strangely comforting. The small box of gemstones sat on top of her scrapbook. She removed the delicate box, placed it on Callan’s side of the bed, and turned her attention to the book. The butterflies and flowers, bright and cheerful, did nothing to lift her spirits. Resisting the urge to look through the photographed memories, she placed it with the box and returned the chest to the wardrobe.

  Callan called her name. She winced at his urgent tone, trying to ignore the hollow feeling in her gut. With one last look in the mirror, she hurried down the stairs.

  He waited in the hall in all his armoured glory. His hair pulled back, every inch of his beautiful face visible. She stroked a finger down his cheek and marvelled at his strong body, sculpted by his tight, protective dragon scale suit. With a wry smile, he held out a hand.

  “Are you ready?”

  She paused on the bottom step and nodded. “Callan, if—” she choked.

  He shook his head and cupped her face in his hands. “We’re coming home, Charlotte,” he assured her. “We’ve trained for months. You’re going to be fine.”

  His tender kiss released her anxiety, silent tears slipping down her cheeks. “I love you so much. I—”

  Pressing his forehead to hers, he closed his eyes. “We’re coming home. It’ll be over soon. Focus. Do what you do. You can do it, I know you can.”

  “Okay,” she whispered, lacing her fingers through his and squeezing tight. “Okay.”

  With no further discussion, Callan took them to the palace where an escort was waiting, then directly on to Houska.

  Her first thought was that it shouldn’t have been so dark. Her second was that it was unnaturally quiet given she was surrounded by dozens of Fae guards and Druids. Callan maintained a firm, reassuring grip on her hand as Dane approached. His eyes, glinting silver orbs in the weak light, met hers and she shrank under his intense gaze.

  Business Dane is so intimidating.

  “Alright?” he asked, softening.

  She nodded, trying to speak past the lump in her throat and failing.

  He leaned forward and kissed her cheek. “It’s okay, Lottie. We’re a team. We’ve done this dozens of times before.”

  “Zander? Enya?” she choked, pulling away.

  “They’re down there; safe with Taran and Caoimhe,” he assured her, holding her gaze. “As soon as she’s under control you go down to them, okay?”

  Dagda edged his way past a group of guards to join them, standing at Charlotte’s side. Clearing his throat, he said, “Alayna’s coming with Markus and the rest.”

  Charlotte gazed around her. Seelie and Un-Seelie guards filtered from the courtyard and into the main building; boots scuffing the ground, the only sound heard despite the many weapons strapped to their dragon and wyvern leather clad bodies. She realised they were heading out, and that she would soon follow.

  Lottie?

  What? I’m fine, Dane. I just want this over. How bad is it?

  Bad enough. She isn’t there, by the looks, but the forest is teeming with Daeva.

  Well she isn’t far behind, is she? Look, before we go out there, I need you to know—

  Don’t. We’re all coming back in once piece. Keep your shields up and let me worry about everyone else. Just get her down.

  In the periphery of her vision, something shifted and she turned her head to look up. On the roof, Vlasta was coiled, her head swinging as she surveyed the grounds of the castle. The tips of her wings and barbs of her tail glinted, their silver tips designed to protect her from the horde of demons waiting at the gates.

  “Why is it dark?” Charlotte asked, returning her attention to the courtyard.

  Dane looked up as Callan said, “It’ll be her doing. Here’s Markus.”

  The guards parted and continued to filter out as Markus led Alayna towards them. Terror filled her eyes and she rushed to Dane. Face buried in his shoulder, she gripped him tight as he embraced her, a hand cradling the back of her head. Charlotte gripped Callan’s hand tighter and looked away.

  “Tyrin, Izak, and Konrad are already outside,” Markus informed them, glancing over his shoulder to check if Klara followed with Lukas and Anton. “We will follow the guards. Charlotte, are you prepared?” He surveyed her, noting the overwhelming fear in her eyes.

  She nodded and he turned his attention to Callan. “The children are safe at the portal. Caoimhe and Taran know where to go and when. Alayna will remain at the rear with Konrad, Klara, and myself. I shall shield; she will keep the strength of our forces up until she is needed elsewh
ere.”

  Charlotte presumed that meant to tend any serious injuries.

  Alayna stepped away from Dane and looked to her. “Be careful,” she pleaded in a shaky whisper. With a nod, Charlotte looked up again, noticing Vlasta was becoming more agitated.

  What’s wrong with her, Dane?

  Don’t know.

  Dane didn’t elaborate as he strode away, following guards through the doors and out to face the threat.

  Callan turned her to face him and smiled as he bent to kiss her. “I love you.”

  I love you.

  He huffed a quiet laugh through his nose, brushed his lips against her cheek, then turned to follow Dane. Charlotte reluctantly allowed him to lead her out, maintaining her vice-like grip on his hand.

  Charlotte gazed around the grounds in awe at the Fae and Druid forces gathered there. The Fae were easily told apart: Un-Seelie court wore armour like her own, the mauve wyvern leather setting them apart from the more colourful dragon leather of their Seelie allies. The Druids were more simply dressed in animal leathers, their upper bodies exposed, save for the harnesses they wore to hold their various weapons.

  Glancing back, she saw Vlasta on the roof, watching over the Fae forces, then turned her attention to the sky. A blanket of shadow obscured the bright, spring afternoon sky, the sunlight filtering weakly through the unnatural, smoky fog, casting deep shadows beneath the trees and buildings on the grounds.

  “Where is she?” Charlotte asked in a shaky voice, glancing towards the gates and the forest beyond. “I expected her to be here, guns blazing.”

  “We do not know. Yet.” Markus had stopped behind her and rested a hand on her shoulder. “Her forces lurk within the forest. They gathered an hour ago and have remained within the cover of the trees, seemingly waiting for their mistress. We can only assume that Nyja is not here.”

  “So why are we waiting? Shouldn’t we be handling them while she’s out of the way?”

  “No. We wait; let her show her hand. We do not know the full extent of her summoned army. We shall make our way to the gates to greet her.”

  She nodded and turned to face him, dropping Callan’s hand. Alayna stood to his right, Klara to his left. Alayna looked terrified, her eyes darting as she searched for Dane. Klara bowed her head and said, “Good luck, Charlotte.”

  Alayna ceased her search and reached for her, pulling her into a tight hug. “Please, please be careful. I’ll be healing you, but please don’t take any risks and don’t go too far from the gates.” Her whispered plea brought tears to Charlotte’s eyes.

  “I’ll be fine, honestly. I promise I’ll try to get them all home safely,” Charlotte choked, pulling away.

  She searched Markus’ stoic eyes and found them unreadable.

  I’m scared, Markus. What if I fail?

  I’m sorry, Charlotte. I have no words of comfort.

  Please keep my family safe. Look after them.

  Markus looked over her shoulder and she turned back around to find Dane standing before her. He pulled her into his arms and murmured, “Be careful. Whatever she says, whatever she does, don’t let her push you into anything rash. Let us handle the Daeva. Save your energy for her. Okay?”

  She closed her eyes and leaned into him, her hands reaching around to settle on his shoulder blades. “I’ll do my best, Dane. Watch Callan’s back. If it goes badly, get the kids away. As far away as you can. I love you.”

  “I love you,” he murmured, kissing her forehead. With a nod to Callan and Dagda, he went to Alayna.

  Callan placed an arm around her waist and pulled her close as Dagda said, “See you on the other side, little sister.” She glanced around Callan to see Dagda grinning.

  “Keep your useless hide safe,” she mumbled, allowing herself a small smile.

  “We should move forward,” Callan suggested, looking to Markus. With his nod of agreement, the legion of soldiers parted to allow them to pass.

  “Whatever happens—”

  “We’re going home. We’re all going home. Do as Dane said: focus on her, let us handle the rest.”

  Wishing she could believe him, she nodded and allowed him to lead her down to the gates.

  The unnaturally dense shadows shifting in the depths of the forest held her attention. No birds sang, no breeze rustled the boughs of the trees. The brooding silence only served to increase her anxiety. Fighting to control her fear, she looked up at Callan. His usually smiling eyes were cold and hard as he scanned the tree line, his shoulders tense and jaw set.

  “Callan?”

  His features instantly softened as he looked down and met her fear widened eyes. Smiling, he cupped her cheek and kissed her tenderly before saying, “I’m fine, Mo Chridhe. Don’t worry about me.” Pressing his forehead to hers, he murmured, “I love you.”

  Stifling a small sob, she smiled against his lips and he stepped back to resume his watch of the forest.

  He’ll be okay, Lottie. Play the game. You know how to handle her, just as you did with Arthur. It’s all bravado. You’ve done it plenty of times before.

  Yeah. I know. Just…be careful, Dane.

  And you. We’ll be fine. Ally and my father are back there. We’re all covered; we’re shielded. If you get her pinned down, break her shields; we can help.

  She glanced behind to see Blair striding towards them with Tyrin and Izak. With a small smile, he asked, “Are you ready, Charlotte?”

  “No. Whatever she’s playing at is working. I think I’m going to be sick,” she said with a nervous laugh.

  “She’ll underestimate you, Charlotte. Everyone always has. Just as we’ve done in training, face her; think fast. Keep your temper and it’ll be over quickly.”

  Her reply was interrupted as Vlasta shrieked from the castle rooftop. Charlotte spun to look and saw the wyvern rearing up, wings beating, her attention on the sky above the canopy of the forest.

  Insides twisting with dread, Charlotte looked up to Callan. “What?”

  He shook his head, turning back to the trees. “I don’t know. Nyja, obviously, but for her to react that way…must be another wyvern.”

  She gripped his hand and reached for Dane’s. Together, they steeled themselves against whatever Nyja had brought to destroy them.

  Twenty-Eight

  The shadows over the forest deepened as her wyvern approached. Gliding over the canopy, it barely made a sound, death on wings soaring through the forced gloom.

  “Shit,” Dane groaned as the creature circled above.

  Charlotte gazed up in terror as she took in the size and state of the beast. “Oh, god, she’s summoned—”

  “Don’t worry about that. It’s just another demon. We can handle it. Vlasta will handle it,” Callan assured her, tugging on her hand to pull her attention from the skies. “Ignore everything but her. You handle Nyja.”

  It’s a fucking demon wyvern. How do I not worry about it? It’s miles bigger than Vlasta. It’ll tear me to pieces!

  It won’t get near you, Lottie. It’s here to distract us. We’ll handle it.

  She began to tremble, the fear she felt proving to be far too difficult to contain. Callan gripped her hand tight as they watched Nyja’s mount descend.

  With a flick of his chin, Dane opened the gates and nudged Charlotte in the back.

  Face her. We’re right behind you. Don’t show her you’re afraid.

  Releasing Callan’s hand, she swallowed hard and took a step forward. Then another. Dane and Callan flanked her, Blair and Dagda took their positions behind them. Izak, Tyrin, and Anton filled the space between and they walked out to face their enemy.

  Sliding gracefully from her wyvern’s back, Nyja surveyed them, but didn’t step forward. Head cocked, she watched them approach, her blood red lips spread in a menacing grin. Ignoring Charlotte, she looked from Callan to Dane and smiled. “Dearest cousin! I had expected my uncle to welcome me home. Where is he?”

  “He has no wish to treat with you, Nyja,” Dane said lazily.


  She scowled. “Has he so little respect for—”

  “You lost the respect of both kingdoms when you committed treason and went on to murder your own father.”

  Pouting, she said, “I’ve no wish to treat, Dane. I’m here for the castle. Since Markus refuses to do business with me, you shall have to do. Deliver the throne peacefully, along with the forces gathered here, and I’ll consider sparing your life.”

  His brows rose, a grin spread across his face and he laughed. “Nyja, you’re third in line to this throne,” he drawled. “You’ll have to kill us all and take it by force. Even then, not a soul here will serve you. They would rather die than follow a traitor.”

  Eyeing him coolly, she turned her attention to Callan. Her eyes shone as she looked him over, her gaze moving slowly over his body. He snarled; her eyes flashing silver and violet as a smile twitched at her lips.

  “What do you think, kind, sweet Callan? Would you rather avoid the bloodshed?” she crooned, stepping towards him. Raising a finger and trailing it down his cheek, she murmured, “I don’t believe you really want to fight me.”

  Fury roiled in Charlotte’s veins, all fear forgotten as she watched Nyja lay her hand on him. Fighting against the overwhelming desire to tear her limb from limb, she watched their exchange in enraged silence.

  Flicking his chin upwards, moving his face away from her touch, he held her in a disgusted stare. Through clenched teeth, he growled, “I will take your head before I see you in control of that rift, Nyja.”

  In answer, she snarled, taking him by the throat with a shadow gloved hand. Showing no sign of discomfort, not giving her the satisfaction of flinching away, he squared his shoulders, met her violet eyes, and began to laugh.

  Fury twisting her pretty face, Nyja tightened her grip, leaning in to press her lips to his cheek.

  Unable to watch any more, Charlotte struck, her dagger stopped inches from Nyja’s body, meeting her shield. Her shadow followed the blade, punching a hole in the protective barrier, and allowed the cold silver access to the dark faerie’s side. “Put my husband down,” she growled through gritted teeth, twisting the dagger. Silver coated steel ground against bone, and blood trickled from the wound as the movement parted the flesh covering Nyja’s ribs.