Storm Crossed

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Storm Crossed Page 17

by Dani Harper


  Disappointment—that was what this new emotion must surely be. He wondered wildly why it should even matter to him that Lissy didn’t want his attentions. Countless women across the Nine Realms had offered him every pleasure possible and would happily do so again. How could a single refusal be so, so . . . Trahern could find no words in any language that described what he felt. It doesn’t matter, he told himself, not believing it for an instant. It must not matter, he corrected. The only important thing is the boy.

  His longer strides quickly brought him alongside Lissy. “We still must speak of Fox and the powerful magic that has come to rest upon him. Your son cannot continue without a teacher.”

  She kept walking. “Oh yeah? What if he doesn’t want one?”

  “I—but—he must be tutored!”

  “He must do nothing.” She stopped to face him. “You don’t even know if he’s interested in magic. In fact, you don’t know him at all. For your information, Fox already has hobbies. He loves rocks and animals and video games. He’s crazy about superheroes and bugs and Scooby-Doo. He’s never even mentioned magic or expressed the slightest desire to learn about it. Not once. So don’t tell me he has to learn about it. Believe me, he has other skills he needs to work on.”

  Trahern swallowed his first response, considering it best to say nothing for a time. He might not be fully acquainted with other human emotions, but anger was common to both mortal and fae—and Lissy was obviously irritated. She didn’t say another word to him but took two steps to one of his, moving briskly and quickly as they crossed numerous streets and made their way through small clusters of people here and there.

  Finally, they stopped in front of a tall brick building with bright-purple doors. “I have an appointment,” she said simply.

  “You are yet annoyed with me.” He sought to hear her thoughts and lightly touched her shoulder to make a stronger connection. The mere fact that she didn’t shrug his hand away afforded him a peculiar sense of relief.

  “You’d better believe I’m annoyed, but it’s not personal. Not yet anyway. I think you mean well.”

  “As Ranyon undoubtedly meant well when he did not reveal what he knew about your son.”

  Her eyes flashed beneath her frown. “Dammit, you can stop reading my mind right now, mister, or I am going to be truly, personally, very much annoyed with you.”

  “You do not understand, I—”

  Both of them froze as a high-pitched shriek knifed the air, ululating from all directions at once. Lissy clapped her hands over her ears in apparent pain as the shrill wail continued. “What the hell is that?” she shouted, stumbling toward the shop entrance.

  Trahern was already there. “Agored!” The double doors flew open before him as if blasted. His light whip flashed in his hand as he ran inside.

  SIXTEEN

  I have to get to Fox! The noise was not only deafening but dizzying, driving her to her knees with vertigo. Nevertheless, Lissy fought her way inside the building, crawling along the smooth black-and-white tiles. If anything, the sound was even louder in here. There was no sign of anyone in the main shop, no one hiding behind any of the counters or under the table of a booth. The storeroom. The last time she was here, Aidan had helped Fox build a fort out of boxes . . . Lissy clamped her jaws shut against the nausea that roiled her stomach, as her fear for her child drove her onward.

  She’d nearly reached the black paneled door marked STAFF ONLY when Ranyon appeared at her elbow. Quickly, the ellyll placed his strange twiggy hands over her ears and muttered something she had no hope of hearing over the din—

  And then suddenly she could hear. The wailing seemed no louder than a teakettle whistle—aggravating but not debilitating—as if the little elemental had dialed down the volume on it. The nausea and the vertigo dissipated quickly.

  “Omigod, Ranyon—”

  “Shht! There’s a hungry cyhyraeth in there,” he whispered. “Ya don’t be wantin’ her attention. She uses her wail to stun her prey so they cannot flee.”

  “Where’s Fox? Where’s Fox?”

  The ellyll didn’t get a chance to answer before Lissy was on her feet and fighting with the old door latch. “Hey!” she yelled as loudly as she could. “Leave my son alone!” She burst into the storeroom—and stopped dead.

  Furniture, crates, books, and papers were plastered to the walls as if a massive explosion had taken place. Aidan lay in a pile of boxes as if he’d been thrown there. The great gray grim was sprawled in another corner of the room. And in the very midst of the chaos, Trahern stood with his light whip wrapped around an apparition from hell. The form was that of a woman, but there all resemblance ended. Huge leathery wings were crumpled behind the gray-skinned creature, bound to its bony body by the whip’s crackling coils, yet the cyhyraeth floated near the ceiling as it fought against its lightning-charged tether. Long, twisting ropes of seaweedlike hair framed a skeletal face, its mouth a wide, dark hole filled with black needle teeth. Glittering white eyes flashed as they caught sight of Lissy, and loud shrieks gave way to venomous hisses. Just as it spat at her, Ranyon shoved Lissy aside with surprising strength. A flaming glob struck the floor where she’d been standing and proceeded to burn through it.

  The child is safe! Get out of here! Trahern’s voice was loud inside her head, and although Lissy couldn’t take her eyes off the creature he held captive, she allowed herself to be half led, half dragged by the determined ellyll. She’d barely reached the doorway when the fae shouted aloud: “Ddod fel llwch!” With the skill and strength of an accomplished fighter, he leapt and spun, jerking the whip so that it tightened around the cyhyraeth—

  And brought it crashing to the floor in a silent flash of violet light.

  Ranyon, bless him, had been faster to cover her eyes than she had, throwing his beloved baseball cap over her face. When she pulled it away, the screaming creature was gone—and she was nearly knocked down by Brooke racing by her to get to Aidan. More than a little stunned, Lissy walked slowly into the room, studying the debris. Searching.

  “Where’s Fox?” She trusted the fae’s word that he was safe, and something in her gut, perhaps what tiny bit of precognition she possessed or maybe just plain mother’s instinct, affirmed it—but she’d feel a helluva lot better seeing for herself that her son was okay.

  Trahern turned at the sound of her voice, and his appearance shocked her. His fair skin was even paler than usual, with a decidedly gray cast to it, and he seemed unsteady on his feet. Lissy was at his side in a moment, inserting herself under his shoulder and supporting him. “Omigod, are you hurt?”

  “Nay, my strength is merely depleted. Rest and food will cure it. It is the duty of the Wild Hunt to send trespassers back to the fae realms—but some such as this are a danger in both worlds.”

  “Hmpf,” said Ranyon. “Then ’tis a shame you reached the monster first. I didn’t find sending your great lump of a dog back to Tir Hardd to be difficult at all.”

  Trahern’s face was expressionless as usual, yet Lissy sensed his deliberate effort to exert patience. “While it is true that an elemental possesses far more magic than any sorcerer may aspire to, I did not send the cyhyraeth to another realm. I destroyed it.”

  The little ellyll suddenly looked uncomfortable. “Aye, well . . . good riddance to that troublesome creature fer sure. We’d best be tendin’ to the others.” Quickly, he headed over to Brooke and Aidan. Thankfully, the big man was already on his feet, though he held his arm.

  Confident her friends were in Ranyon’s good hands, Lissy helped Trahern walk to where the great gray grim was sprawled. The steady rise and fall of the enormous dog’s sides assured her that he was breathing. But where was Fox? Surely Braith would not have left him?

  “You said my son was safe,” she prodded Trahern. “Where did you send him?”

  “I did nothing. It was my brother.” The fae knelt by the dog and placed his hand on a muscled gray shoulder. After a moment, the dog opened his eyes and raised his great
head, panting heavily—and appearing to grin. He rolled to his feet to expose a wide-eyed Fox, curled up in a deep cavity amid the broken boxes.

  “Dude!” Her son bounced to his feet and reprimanded his canine friend. “That’s not how you play hide-and-seek! You’re not supposed to tell where I am!” Three cats popped their heads out of a nearby box and likewise glared at the unrepentant dog.

  “Omigod, sweetie, are you all right?” asked Lissy. She wanted to hug her son so hard and tight . . . but even as she placed a hand on his shoulder, he shrugged it away.

  “He told you where I was!” he yelled. “Tell him he’s not playing the game right!”

  Nope, he wouldn’t welcome a hug right now at all. “Um, Braith just didn’t understand the rules, hon. Your new friend’s not from around here, so he probably never played hide-and-seek before.” She watched as Fox took a breath, then another. Shifting his weight from side to side. Considering.

  “Maybe he needs someone smart like you to teach him how,” she added softly.

  Fox rubbed his head rapidly with both hands, leaving his blond hair in wild tufts, and gave an exaggerated sigh. “I guess so. But we’re going to have to start all over again.” He headed for the main shop with three cats trotting close behind him. Before Braith could follow, Lissy threw her arms around the dog’s huge neck.

  “Thank you for looking after him,” she whispered in his velvety ear. “Thank you.” The big washcloth tongue caught her full in the face before she could dodge, and she fell back sputtering as the dog ambled after Fox.

  This may be of aid. A square of bright fabric floated into her view, and she accepted it gratefully. After drying her face, she smiled up at Trahern.

  Thanks to you, too. I can’t believe you faced down that demon by yourself. Her thoughts seemed to flow more easily to him now, as if a pathway had been made. You saved us all.

  His face didn’t change, nor did he acknowledge the compliment. “I fear it is but the beginning. Fox and your friends are only safe for the moment.”

  “You said you destroyed the monster.”

  “The cyhyraeth feeds on magical energies. Just as this creature was drawn here by your son’s powerful aura, others will be attracted to Fox as well. I have already questioned a pwca in the city this day. It is why I interrupted your visit with Vincente earlier.”

  “But—but my son can’t be attracting these things!”

  “He can, and he is.” Trahern paced then, a little stiffly. “How do you think Braith discovered Fox in the very beginning? And by the stars of the Seven Sisters, it is truly fortunate that my brother found your child first.”

  “Now wait just a—”

  “Good lady, waiting is no longer possible. Not for me, not for you, and certainly not for Fox. That night at the waterfall, I watched you defend your son against impossible odds. Just now, you had every intention of doing so again, though you knew not what you faced.”

  “Any mother would do the same.”

  A shadow passed over his features, vanishing as quickly as it had appeared. “Fortunately for you and for Fox, what you found the first time was my good-natured twin. But your courage would not have prevailed against the cyhyraeth.” Trahern spread his hands. “You and Fox would be dead, your mortal friends as well, and the fault would be entirely mine. Because you are mortal, I have delayed telling you all that I should have.”

  Lissy stilled. Is there a goddamn sign on my head that says, Don’t tell me important stuff? She already had one confrontation scheduled with Ranyon. Maybe Trahern should take a number . . . “And just what is it you think I should know?”

  “Fox is in danger at this very moment. Magic has chosen him, a more powerful magic than you have ever witnessed or, indeed, can imagine. If he does not learn to control his power, others will come here from the faery realm who will seek to control him. They will take him and use him, or they will kill him.”

  The world abruptly narrowed to a pinprick—then expanded again with too-bright light. Lissy swayed a little, but Trahern’s grip on her arm kept her from going down.

  “Sit,” he ordered, and instantly she found herself in an elegant yet comfortable wing chair. Embroidered birds of every type and color graced its soft, rich fabric. She knew that Brooke and Aidan didn’t have any furniture like it. And if they did, it sure wouldn’t be standing at ground zero in what was left of the storeroom. “This—this is beautiful,” she murmured while she tried to gather her scattered thoughts.

  “You appeared ill. Perhaps I was too blunt—”

  “Too blunt?” The last of the fuzziness left her brain. “A couple of days ago, I was looking forward to a happy, peaceful summer with my son. Now you show up, and suddenly Fox’s life is on the line through no fault of his own, and I’m trying to cope with one weird-ass thing after another. How do I know that monster didn’t show up because of you? Maybe you’re the one who attracted it here!”

  “That is not possible. A cyhyraeth would avoid such as I because I possess the power to—”

  “Exactly! You. Have. Power. That’s the point. It makes me think I’ve been a little too quick to trust you. For all I know, you staged the whole damn thing to make me agree to let you near my son.” She gripped the arms of the chair and rose to her feet. “You can’t possibly need an apprentice or an assistant badly enough to choose a human being. What is it you really need him for, Trahern? A spell? A ritual? You know, I’ve heard that some faeries steal away children!” As soon as she said that, she wished she hadn’t. But the ethereally handsome being before her not only wasn’t like her, he wasn’t even the same goddamn species. Who knew what the hell she was dealing with? Only one thing was certain: she would go down swinging rather than allow anyone or anything into Fox’s life that might harm him.

  Trahern was silent for a long moment, seeming to draw inward. “You were correct when you said we were but acquaintances,” he said at last. “If we were indeed friends, then you would know the insult you have just offered me.”

  “I’m not trying to insult you. I just want my son safe and—”

  He cut her off with a gesture of impatience. “You and I shared bread in your kitchen, and I gave you an oath. You claimed to believe me then. As for the rest, what need could I possibly have for a human child? I who have ridden the sky itself with the Wild Hunt for several of your lifetimes? I who have called down black fire in the midst of the Royal Court? Melissa Santiago-Callahan, you may fight the truth all you wish. But magic has chosen Fox, and as a sorcerer it is my responsibility to teach him, if only to be able to defend himself. That is the way for him to be safe.”

  Lissy became aware of Brooke on her left. On her right, Ranyon slid his strange, skinny hand into hers. Their silence and their solidarity spoke volumes, confirming her worst fears: that the fae’s chilling words were absolutely, immutably, and irrevocably true.

  She took a deep breath, then another, willing herself to accept what she would rather not. And wishing, too, that she could take back some of her words. “I’m really sorry for what I said to you, Trahern.”

  “I hold you blameless.” His words seemed careful—even gentle. “This matter has come to you with great suddenness, and you are accustomed to neither fae nor magic. You would not have recognized the signs in advance.”

  “Oh, but I did see some signs. Fox having dreams. Fox communicating with animals. Fox seeing things before they happened. I didn’t want to believe it; I didn’t want to know. What kind of a mother hides from what’s right in front of her?” She hadn’t hidden from the words of the autism experts, the doctors who’d identified Asperger’s as the source of Fox’s strange behaviors. She’d embraced it all, from the extra work it meant for her, to the daily frustrations and the little victories. But she’d closed her eyes to any possibility of magic, of any kind. “Was I protecting Fox or myself?”

  “Perhaps both, but not without cause. I have witnessed for myself that your son is highly sensitive. You have told me that he is easily upset b
y change. It could be frightening to introduce something new and potentially disruptive into your lives.”

  Beside her, Ranyon snorted. “’Tis exactly why I’ve held my tongue!”

  “And did your friends no service by trying to spare them.” Trahern’s voice gained an edge as he confronted the ellyll. “You knew of the child’s talents from the beginning and said nothing, when you might have prepared Fox and readied his mother for what was to come!”

  “Now don’t be judgin’ the complications! Ya weren’t here, son of Oak, and if yer great calf of a dog hadn’t shown up, ya still wouldn’t be here!” Watch gears and marbles fell to the floor from beneath his shirt as the ellyll shook his knotty fist at the fae. Brooke’s efforts to shush him were in vain. “’Twould suit me if ya weren’t, too! We’ve already got an elemental and a masterly witch. Why do we need you?”

  Not this again. Lissy leaned over and whispered fiercely, “What would have happened to Fox today if Trahern hadn’t been here? When no one else with magic was close enough to get there in time?” Ranyon’s mouth opened as if to speak, then closed again, his lips compressed into a thin line. His body language spoke for him as his slumping shoulders made his Blue Jays T-shirt sag.

  Lissy made a mental note to take her leafy friend aside later and give him a hug, then turned her attention back to the issue at hand. “It’s true that we have an elemental and a witch. We also have a fae and a mom. I can see it’s going to take all of us working together as a team to help Fox understand the magic he’s inherited.” She looked up at Trahern. “You’re absolutely right about my being reluctant to rock the boat. I think I’ve spent the last nine years of my life trying to keep things as calm and level as possible, with no surprises.” She switched to mind speech. It’s not just how Fox survives, you know. It’s how I coped when my dad died, and again when my fiancé died.

  I did not know of your losses. And your fiancé . . . She could feel him struggling to interpret the word. Your betrothed? He was Fox’s father.

 

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