by Nunn, PL
“I think he wants this little girl very badly. I think honoring past agreements will mean nothing to him in his efforts to regain her. And honestly, it was bound to happen. The Seelies and the Unseelies have never lived in harmony.”
“But Neira’sha’s Grove…”
Okar urged his mount forward.
“Perhaps I’m wrong. Hope that I am.”
~~~
The court was depleted. The halls rang hollow and cold. The sound of a single tread echoed through immense and empty stone. Only the eldest and the frailest of the courtesans remained in evidence. The rest rode on relentless hunt, striving in semi-panic to find the lost human that their lord and master so desired.
Azeral’s mood was as black as the rock a thousand feet under his mountain fortress. His anger as volatile as a lightening strike. The bodies of slaves unlucky enough to serve him were hauled away by other, trembling members of his staff. He sat in his hall and brooded. The great expanse of floor, usually littered with the gaily dressed members of the Unseelie court was empty of all life. The gray stone threw up reflected highlights of the fey lanterns sat in the walls. No sound save for the Unseelie Lord’s breathing broke the silence of the chamber, or the concentration of its only occupant. Azeral let his magic range. He threw it far and wide in the vain hope of finding the girl in the vast forest that flanked the Desney range. He knew it was a hopeless task, to find that one individual life spark among so many thousands, but he attempted it nonetheless.
The footsteps annoyed him. He heard their approach a hundred feet away. His brows wrinkled. He gathered destructive magic to punish the interloper. If it were a slave, it would die. A sidhe would pay a dear price for the interruption.
It was neither. It was a rightfully nervous human who hesitantly hovered in one of the many alcoves leading into the audience chamber. Azeral withheld his strike. He waited, coiled and tense for Alex to gather courage and enter.
He stared with the facade of languid indifference when the human finally did encroach the perimeter of his audience chamber.
“My Lord?” The human evidenced a good deal less fear than Azeral thought the situation warranted. “Can we speak?”
Azeral waved a careless hand, slouching back in the darker recesses of his mammoth throne. Alex shifted, refusing to come closer than a body length from the dais.
“Of what, pray tell?”
“Is it true? Have you lost Victoria?”
“Lost?” Azeral could not hide his irritation at the absurd accusation. Had ‘he’ lost the girl? What rubbish. “I think not,” he drawled. “She has flown of her own accord. So careless of Our hospitality. It gives me little faith in your humanity.”
Alex swallowed. “She didn’t understand. This place, I mean.”
“You mean she’s simple?”
“No! No. She’s just different. You have to make allowances.”
“Do I? Whatever for? Do you propose that her naiveté drove her to abandoning my generosity? Was she overcome by the grandeur of my keep? I dare say that she seems to me to be of a stronger will than that.”
“Are you looking for her?”
Azeral’s lips pulled back in a feral smile. “Most assuredly.”
“Don’t hurt her.” It was simply said and the root of this visit, Azeral thought.
The human was not so enthralled with his daughter as Leanan supposed. He feared for his human love. As well he should, for Azeral had no intention of letting that uncontrollable power elude him. He would see her dead before he would see her in someone else’s hands. Especially the Seelie court which was made up of moralistic fools and dreamers. He would never regain her once Ashara and her lot sank their ideals and notions into her head.
He needed that human magic too badly to rest easy while the girl was likely on her way to the Seelie court. He craved it enough not to alienate too badly the willing source of it that he did still possess.
“Hurt her? I would never hurt her. I fear for her safety. I search for her in the name of concern. Dwell no more on the matter. I will see her safely back no worse for wear. Now leave me to my ponderings.”
Alex nodded, seeming somewhat relieved. He backed away a few steps, forgetting to bow, which would have been proper, then turned and retreated. Azeral let the slip in courtesy pass. He absently stroked his narrow jaw, waiting until the physical and mental traces of the human were well away from his audience chamber, then finally sent out a mental summons.
He waited in the silence, eavesdropping on the mishmash of communications assaulting the vast forest lands below his mountain fortress. The mental maneuverings of his court as they searched in a rapidly widening area.
Finding nothing, no trace, no footprint. No mental whispering that might point to a frightened human refugee. He glanced at the duller inner workings of his huntsmen and the various forces he had sent out into the woodlands. Their thoughts were more of his promised retribution for failure than of the girl. Their imaginings of punishment went far beyond what Azeral might have concocted. There were times he found amusement in the dark, frightened musings of a victim about to receive his wrath. Not now. Now he wanted to shake them all into a keener desperation to find the girl.
He felt the presence before he saw it.
He knew, better than any other living thing, when his Ciagenii was about. After all he possessed his soul. And the soul knew. The soul, small severed thing that it was, could never be deceived.
Dusk knelt before him, always the proper etiquette where the Ciagenii was concerned. The manners of the most elegant courtesan. He did not lift his head until Azeral gave him leave, then stood waiting until his master deigned to broach the subject of his summons.
Azeral leaned chin on knuckles, eyeing his assassin critically. So amazing, his Ciagenii. So unobtrusive a creature to possess such deadly a talent. So beguilingly deceptive.
“The human girl has fled. Have you heard?”
“I have.”
“You succeeded so brilliantly in bringing her to me the first time, I trust you above all others to find her once again.”
The dark head inclined. “To bring her back?”
“Only if her magic has not been reawakened. If she reaches the Seelies first and they break my spell, you will kill her. I will not have her power turned against me.”
The Ciagenii paused for a full breath, then inclined his head once more. “As you wish.”
“Dusk.” Azeral could feel the assassin’s need to melt away, to disappear into the shadows. His creature had ever been wary in his presence. The Ciagenii looked up at him, caught his gaze with eyes like liquid night. “Don’t fail me in this.”
“Have I ever?” A whisper on the breeze and more forthright than the assassin was wont to be. And a valid point. The Ciagenii had never been less than the perfect weapon. His edge never blunted and his aim always true.
“She’ll be going to Ashara’s lot. Don’t dally in finding her.”
Dusk bowed at the waist, taking the suggestion as leave. He melted into the shadows with the silence of a mountain’s growth. Azeral forgot him altogether. His thoughts were on how quickly he could gather ogre forces from the surrounding mountains. How fast to equip them and set them through a portal of his making at Ashara’s doorstep. The Ciagenii might be his arrow head, but the great hunt and the vast forces at Azeral’s beck and call would be the strong arm that pulled the bow.
~~~
The rest, Victoria thought, with a head so heavy with exhaustion it lolled on her neck, was more for the horses than the riders. Okar pulled up in what might loosely be called a clearing, but in actuality was little more than a grotto formed by moss and vine cascading from one forest giant to another. Victoria had no care. It might have been the most luxurious bedroom.
She slid gracelessly from her mount, caught her foot in a tangle of vine and lost all balance. She went to her knees and remained there as Keirom took her trembling mount aside to join the others in a brief and furious rubdown that he and
Okar gifted all the animals with. Aloe disappeared into the undergrowth wordlessly, long bow in hand. Victoria sighed, confident in her companion’s skill.
She rested back against the soft moss and risked closing her eyes for a brief moment.
She opened them at the irritation of something crawling across the back of her hand. Wearily she flicked a tiny colorful insect off of her skin. She looked up and took in her surroundings. Aloe had come back. The horses browsed with soft rustling sounds in the green foliage that surrounded them. Okar and Keirom sat, with bows over their knees not far from her. She must have slept, then. That they had allowed it was reason enough to be grateful. How far and long they had ridden was beyond her ability to judge. The last of the ride had passed in a daze for her.
She broke their easy silence with a timid question. “Are we going back to the Grove?”
“There’s little choice,” Okar answered softly. There was tension in his face.
“How far are we?”
“We made good time,” Aloe told her. “Five nights more if luck is with us.”
Five nights more. It had taken many times that on her journey to Azeral’s keep. Of course she had not been pushed to exhaustion then, and ridden only part of the way.
“If,” Aloe added grimly, “we do not run into the Hunt.”
“Are they still searching?”
“Oh yes.”
She pulled her knees up and hugged them to her chest. The great hunt in all of its violent glory, pursued her. She most dearly did not want that attention. Had no wish to be that important. She was having trouble fathoming why she was.
“Are they expecting us? Ashara, I mean?”
Okar and Aloe exchanged glances.
An expression of almost guilt passed between them. It was not comforting at all to see the two of them so ill at ease.
“No,” Okar finally declared. “She’s not expecting us.”
“Can’t you contact her and tell her we’re on our way? Maybe she could send help?”
He shook his head firmly. “No. They would sense any message I sent. It’s all we can do to avoid their scrutiny as is. A call would be a beacon to lure them in.”
“Oh.” There was more. She felt it in her bones. There was more he was not saying. She looked to Aloe under her lids.
“What else?” she asked with quiet fortitude.
The sidhe girl shifted, running slender fingers up the burnished length of her bow.
“She was against this,” she finally admitted. “We did this against her wishes.”
Victoria glanced to Okar who flinched visibly at Aloe’s admission.
“Oh God,” she moaned and covered her face with her hands. She did not need this heaped upon her shoulders. Aloe was one thing. She was a loner, her actions were her own. Okar was quite another.
That he had come with Aloe on a mission that his lovemate forbade could be the root of a trouble Victoria did not wish to deal.
“She’s going to kill me,” she murmured.
“She’ll contemplate it,” Aloe agreed dourly. “But she hasn’t killed in a long while.”
“Why did you do it?” Victoria cried.
“So few of you attempting this against all of Azeral’s forces?”
Aloe looked at her strangely. “I told you. You’re my friend. Even if you’re foolish, you don’t deserve to be abandoned. Besides.” The girl smiled lazily. “I knew Keirom made these parts his regular haunt. There’s nothing he cannot avoid and he owed me a favor.”
Keirom did not glance up at that account, although Aloe stared at him good and long. There was some hint of frustration on her face that he did not respond to her taunt.
“Well, I owe him one now,” Victoria stated, half smiling through her dilemma.
“Although I admit, I didn’t know what to make of his birds at first.”
“His birds,” Aloe agreed, looking up into the sheltering foliage where two colorful shapes roosted. “Most certainly all the company he prefers.” There was a touch of bitterness in her tone. Keirom did look up then, eyeing the sidhe girl warily.
Aloe smiled back like a hungry feline, strands of silver hair dividing her face.
“They demand so little. Hardly need a speck of conversation to satisfy them. One would think Keirom hid feathers under his tunic…if one didn’t know better.”
That, Victoria decided, was more than casual baiting. And Keirom, who spoke so little and so forthrightly, was no match for Aloe’s sharp tongue. He chose not to answer. Aloe finally retreated, almost smugly. Victoria did not know how to break the embarrassing silence. She would have liked the chance to talk with Aloe privately, about her frustration and disappointment with Alex. Of her sudden and inexplicable desire for Dusk. But Keirom and Okar’s presence kept her silent.
The birds shifted on their lofty perches. The larger one ruffled its feathers roughly and a slight shower of dislodged leaves wafted down. Keirom sat straighter, staring not at his avian companions but at the wood to the north.
Aloe was crouching instantly, fixing him with her narrowed eyes.
“What?” she hissed.
He shook his head, confused.
“Something… nothing. I can’t sense anything. But the birds – “ He trailed off, glancing to Okar as the golden haired sidhe rose to his knees, eyes half-lidded.
Ashara’s mate threw out an almost tangible net of query. His golden brows drew. “There’s nothing.” The last part of the whisper was cut short by a gasp. His eyes snapped open in alarm.
“They’re shielding!” he cried, lunging for his bow even as a harsh cry rose up in the woods about them.
Arrows plunged towards them. Okar forwent arming his own bow in favor of sweeping one arm savagely before him.
The projectiles splintered harmlessly against a protective shield. Victoria scrambled backwards even as her companions went forward. Great dark shapes crashed through the fall of vines, heralded by the savage screams of nighthorses goaded into frenzy. Armored bendithy huntsmen descended upon them.
Her sidhe companions dove from the path of the frantic animals, forced to give up bows in favor of daggers. She saw Aloe slash viciously at the legs of a nighthorse that threatened to trample her. The animal screamed and reared, dislodging its rider.
Aloe pounced, driving her silver dagger into a momentarily bared throat. Blood spurted, blotching the girl’s face.
Keirom’s birds were diving in attack, even as their master leapt towards a rider, pulling the huntsman off balance and over the hindquarters of his mount. They fell to the ground in a tangle of grappling limbs.
The birds screamed bloody murder.
Horses cried out. Grunts of effort and pain were as telling as the sound of blade against blade. Victoria wanted to cover her ears. To shut her eyes and wish the violence away. She could do neither. She could scream. She did not think about doing it until the pain lashed through her gut like a heated iron. She doubled over in agony, and found breath denied her. Her vision turned red. She heard Aloe scream and blinked up dazedly to see the girl rolling away from the fallen body of her attacker, holding her own mid-section.
The part of her that was jailed behind Azeral’s shield surged up uselessly as it scented the use of power. Someone was throwing spells at them and it was not the bendithy huntsmen.
Suddenly the pain ceased. Victoria gasped grateful lungfuls of air as her vision cleared. The use of power had just doubled. It rang through her head like chimes in a windstorm. She crawled to her knees. Keirom and Aloe were back on their feet, pressed by the remaining huntsmen. The pain had lasted only a brief moment, but it had been telling. She looked for Okar and found him kneeling, weaponless, in the ground-covering vines.
His eyes were closed and fists clenched at his side. Sweat covered his brow. Power radiated from him. It was he who had stopped the attack. It was he who struggled to keep magic from the fray. The tumult, on that hidden level of power and magic, was destructive. She was only half aware of it. The huntsm
en held no clue at all. They came at the two sidhe viciously, wild eyed and almost feral in their attack.
One of them saw her, clearly registered her helplessness and decidedly ignored her as he preceded, short sword raised, towards the entranced Okar.
Screaming for Aloe or Keirom would have done no good, they were both hard pressed to defend their own lives. In desperation, Victoria scrambled forward on hands and knees and clutched Okar’s discarded bow. She lunged forward, even as the huntsman swung downward with a killing blow and used the bow like a club.
It hit the bendithy arm and the aim was thrown off. The blade grazed Okar’s shoulder, the blow knocking him forward before he reflexively righted himself. He never opened his eyes. Never turned to defend himself. That was left totally in Victoria’s hands.
She struck again, her reach with the bow longer than the huntsman with his sword. He blocked the hit with an upraised arm, started towards her with madness in his eyes, sword raised. She swung the bow like a bat, full circle and the hard wood cracked against the side of the man’s face. A bloody line appeared.
He staggered. She could not let him catch his bearings. She swung again and again, pummeling the unprotected head. Blood spattered her hands and the bow. She had it on her face. The huntsman was an unmoving figure, half covered in deep moss and twisted vine. His face was obscured with blood. She clutched the bow tighter in her hands, standing over Okar, whose stillness had turned to violent tremors. There was a piercing mental and physical scream from the shelter of the forest. She heard it through the blockage of her own power and it shook her to the bone. Somewhere out there a high sidhe had gone down, bested by the one at her feet. But the battle of power still raged, the tension still heavy in the psychic air. There was another, unseen and still fighting, directing the huntsmen’s frenzied attack, brutally ramming Okar’s shields to get to his companions.
~~~
The great stone throne, after too long a while, became a device of torture. Even with silken pillows to cushion it, the back was too straight and the arms too wide. It only added to Azeral’s irritation. He paced his desolate audience chamber like a predator. No one had dared offend him with their presence since the Ciagenii had taken his leave. He knew those that were still in the keep found reason to slink outside his hall, careful to make no sound, curiosity too strong to avoid finding out where he was and what he might be doing.