“Why do you get two moons?”
“I’ve always thought it was odd you only have one.”
“Is one of our moons also one of your moons?”
He just kept walking.
I tried to remember all I’d heard about the Elfhame. It was very little. I wasn’t prepared to be in fairyland.
“The Elves are on good terms with most N’anta hostre. The tribes of Otherwhere. My family uh… governs this kingdom.”
“What? Kingdom?” I was struggling to keep up with his long legs. “You’re… like, royalty?”
“In a manner of speaking, yes.” He seemed uncomfortable admitting it.
“Are you a prince?”
“Yes.”
“I knew it!” I shoved his arm playfully before he could stride away.
Qyll stopped and finally did look at me. “It doesn’t matter. I have a title and lands here, but I chose to come to Earth instead.” He searched my face with his shining eyes. “My brother will rule when our parents are gone.”
“Hey, I don’t care if you’re a prince.” I was practically jogging to keep up. “I just… I mean, it’s very interesting to know that about you because I did not know that before now and now that I do know it, that’s good. Because we are partners. I mean, work partners, and it’s a good thing to know, you know, some background about the people you work with. Two moons. Wow. That’s really great.”
Athena’s tits, Tessa, you could talk the paper off the walls.
It was my turn to walk off, my face ablaze.
“Yes,” he said softly, falling into step with me. “I agree.”
We kept traversing the endless expanse of frost. Though I wasn’t cold myself, my breath came out in rigid misty shapes, curlicues and swirls turning to ice that dropped and broke like glass.
“How is this possibly faster than driving?” I complained.
“When we emerge, it will be mere moments from the time we stepped inside.”
Across the windswept snowfield, a trumpet called. Then another. Far off near the horizon, lights moved. Like a swiftly-moving herd of headlights.
“Qyll, what is that?” We stopped walking. Dorcha paused, alert.
“I don’t know.” From goddess knows where, he withdrew a pair of long curved blades.
“Silver?” I said. “I didn’t know you were packing.”
“Packing?”
“Packing heat. You have swords. Really long, pretty swords.” The blades were carved with ivy leaves.
“These weapons are not typically allowed in Earth, though as an FBI agent, concealed carry applies. But here, I would not risk going about without them out in the open.”
The lights grew closer and in moments, they were near enough to see an enormous sleigh drawn by six massive white reindeer with silver horns and hooves.
He hissed under his breath.
“What? Qyll? What is it? Who’s that?”
The sled was driven by a tall, broad figure in a dark purple velvet robe trimmed in silver-white fur. On a head of silvery silken hair sat a crown of leaves worked in gleaming silver. Perfect features, narrow arched eyebrows, fullish lips. Strangely feminine but definitely masculine.
Alongside the sled, in smaller sleds or on the backs of animals or running along, were all kinds of beings―Elves, unicorns, flying folk, a purple and silver zebra. They circled us, staring like we were animals at the zoo.
The driver of the biggest sled leapt from his perch over all six reindeer. He landed lightly before us, leather-booted feet sending up a puff of glittery snow. He was so tall, the top of my head only came up to his sternum.
Qyll knelt and bowed. “It is an honor, your Grace.”
The man bowed in return. “Qyll Toutant Lh’ollye Noirelf. Hale and well-met! I have not seen your people for a long while. You look hearty, lad!” He clasped Qyll in an embrace.
Qyll glanced at me, his expression unreadable. “Your Grace, may I present the Lady Tessa Reddick.” He gestured to me, and I had the sudden urge to curtsy, which I did, extremely ungracefully. “Lady Reddick, I present his highness, the Holly King, lord of ice and stone, ruler of the coldlands.”
My knees turned to water. One does not simply meet the Holly King. The Holly King was the stuff of fairytale and legend.
“You are real!”
The King and his entire entourage laughed.
“And so are you.” He took my hand.
Here I was, with his lips pressed against the back of my hand and his wintergreen eyes watching me with amusement. Despite the snow and chill, a very, very nice warmth curled around my ladybits when he smiled.
“So it is true. Cerridwen Reddick’s Beltane baby lives.” His voice was like a bonfire at midwinter. I wanted to throw off all my clothes and see what was under that purple velvet robe of his. The blush rose so hard to my cheeks, I was afraid I would burst into flames.
“I… ah… yes, sir. I’m… sorry. Your highness.” I have no idea what I was apologizing for, but I thought maybe a blanket statement for any perceived wrongdoing might be helpful.
“Please. Call me Erran.” His eyes lingered on me.
“We request passage through your lands this night, my lord,” Qyll said, relieving some of my awkwardness. “We are on urgent business and must be on our way at once.”
The Holly King’s laugh was thunder. “Such haste, young Elf! Come, rest a moment.” He snapped his fingers, and a massive tent blossomed from the tundra, unfurling dark blue walls and roof, silver cords holding it fast. One of the entourage held the flap aside, and I followed Qyll. Inside was a roaring purple flame and big cushions covered in thick furs. Plates of food and drinks sat on low tables. Pretty harp music filtered in from this place’s version of Bluetooth speakers.
I swallowed hard. Rule number one when you’re in Otherwhere? Don’t eat the food, don’t drink the drinks. Creatures like Faeries and Pixies have very interesting ideas about what constitutes a contract, and if I wasn’t careful, I might end up stuck in the Holly King’s court for the rest of my unnatural life.
“Do we really have time for this?” I whispered to Qyll.
He made an irritated noise. “We really don’t have a choice. But truly, we have plenty of Earth time.”
The King reclined on a huge round cushion, his elegant head against a stack of velvet pillows. Dorcha acted like she was a regular guest and made herself comfortable on a pile of furs. Soon she was gnawing happily on the bone of some Other beast, which is fine, because Dorcha, like all cats, is from Otherwhere anyway. The food and drink rules (just rules in general, actually) don’t apply to her.
“What brings you to my bower this eve?”
“A business of much importance, Highness. We thank you for this gift of respite.” Qyll lowered himself between two female creatures of a species I could not identify, but that was very attractive. One stroked his arm, and the other went to feed him grapes. I found myself wanting to rip their hair out by the roots. But also to jump in Qyll’s lap. Dammit, hormones!
“Of course, my friend.” The King sipped from a silver goblet. “I have heard much about your little Witch. She is so very pretty, and I do desire to know her better.” Our eyes locked for a torturous moment. The barest hint of a frown crossed between his brows. “You fight an enemy this night, fair Witch. Something evil, I do think.”
“That’s why we’re here,” I stammered. “We’re on our way to stop it from making a big ol’ mess in Earth.”
The Holly King nodded. “Here. Perhaps this will help.” He held out his palm, and in it sat a piece of amethyst about the size of a walnut and cut to look like a heart.
“What is this for?” I said, like an idiot.
He smiled. “A gift.” He glanced at Qyll who looked as though he meant to speak. “Be at peace, friend, ‘tis only a gift. Nothing is expected in return. I swear on the heart of winter.”
I quickly slipped it into my pocket. “Look, I’m not really dressed for a party, so I think we’ll just be on ou
r way, but thanks for everything,” I said.
Qyll looked alarmed. I was offending our host.
“Not so fast, yichidig o wrach,” Erran said softly in his musical language. I found myself stock still in front of him again, eying his magnificent chest. He leaned up, tilted my face to his. “I do not jest when I say I desire to see more of you, little Witch. You and your Dark Elf friend and your N’anta cat may pass through my lands tonight, but only on promise of a return visit.” I could barely think straight for the buzzing in my head as his fingers rested on the back of my neck and his thumb traced my jawline. I think my mouth literally watered. The things I wanted him to do to me raced through my mind like a steamy video on fast-forward.
Somewhere in my head a voice screamed. Rule number two in Otherwhere? Don’t make promises! Promises are contract! Contracts are bad! Others are tricky, and you could end up painting the white roses red in some crazy queen’s garden for all eternity if you aren’t careful! STOP LOOKING AT HIM!
I tore my gaze away and looked to Qyll. He was standing, swatting away the hands of the pretty ladies, and his expression had gone rock-hard. (Something about that was extremely satisfying.)
“I’m sure we can work something out,” I murmured, hoping I was vague enough.
He smiled. “I wonder, dear Witch, if you fear these lands? After all, you have made enemies far and wide.”
“Well, it crossed my mind,” I admitted, “but I’ll tell anybody you want me to tell―I didn’t do it. I had nothing to do with the… fire.”
He peered into my face with a look of frank concern and nodded. “Off you go then, the both of you.” Taking my hands, he said, “I’m much more keen to visit when your mind isn’t so far away.” The touch of his lips on my chilled fingers was more than I thought I could handle.
“Thank you so much, your highness. Erran.” He smiled like a hungry leopard. I snatched my hands back and ducking out of his way, bolted back into the snow, motioning to Qyll and Dorcha.
We took off running through the lilac powder, Qyll occasionally glancing back to see if we had been followed, which we hadn’t. Finally, we slowed to a walk.
“You can’t run from the Holly King forever,” he said. “I’m sorry I brought us here. I didn’t think. Usually I can pass unnoticed through these lands.” He glanced sharply at me. “Unless someone told him we were coming.”
“Don’t look at me! Athena’s tits, Qyll, I didn’t have time to mess around here!”
“Not you. Heaven keeps an eye on its lands much too closely, I fear.”
“Heaven? Wait, what?”
“The court of the Holly King lies on the Heaven side of things.”
I stopped moving and let it sink it. I can’t walk and think about big things at the same time.
“The Holly King is an Angel?”
Qyll stopped, too. “Not precisely; he and his kin are simply slightly more of one than the other. Humans might understand it as more Heaven than Hell.”
I closed my eyes tightly. “The Holly King. Is. Part. Angel.”
Silence.
I lifted an eyelid slightly.
“Yes. That’s the best way to describe it.”
“Uh wait, so you’re angelic, too?”
Qyll colored slightly. “Yes, according to Human interpretation of our geneology.”
“Great Leda’s quim.” I shook my head, setting off a mini-squall of purple flakes. “More background.”
He turned and began walking away again. “Be that as it may, you have got his attention now. There is no telling what will come of it.”
I pushed the business with Erran out of my mind and concentrated on the conservatory. Soon, the snow thinned to muddy grass and the air warmed. We were back in Earth.
“I will alert the SI team to be at the ready. Once we know what we’re dealing with, we can call in reinforcements.”
I sighed. “Out of the frying pan and into the fire.”
We all hid, back in those days. You couldn’t tell someone you were a Vampire. My god, no. You had to sneak around, make up stories, get jobs that you could do at night. Every mortician, every morgue employee, nearly every graveyard shift employee you know? Vampire. Even after the Rift, well. There was a lot of racism, a lot of fear. But the truth is, we aren’t like the ones on TV or the movies. We eat a mostly meat diet. That’s it. Raw fresh meat. Whole Foods and Costco have been real godsends for us.
―Interview with A (Real) Vampire, Vanity Fair magazine, 2009
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
he forest crackled with magic, as though the ley line energy had been turned up to eleven. Louisville sits on a river (literally, the Ohio), but it also rests atop a figurative river of ley magic directly between the Bermuda Triangle and Yellowstone National Park, two serious magical hotspots. Somebody was tapping into some deep earth energy here, the way college kids cheat to get free cable.
My stomach flip-flopped at the thought of what lay ahead. I was bone-tired and did not have my head in the game. Then I flashed back to the damage at Koby’s mansion. And the smell. And the singular kernel of truth: those people did not deserve to die, and not in such a horrible way. And neither does anyone else.
“Wait.” I pulled out the anyshooter and its box out of my bag. Never hurts to check your ammunition, if the action flicks were any indication. Under the velvet cushion, two more bullets rolled around. “Don’t know what these are but they might come in handy.” Nana carried this thing until she died and then it went in the trunk, the remaining rounds a mystery.
I stuffed my last-ditch weapon back and put up my psychic shield, then motioned us forward. “Let’s split up,” I whispered. “Come from three angles. Don’t give ourselves away unless we have to.”
Qyll nodded. “Should we have alerted Antaura?”
I snorted. “I’m not worried about her. If that thing gets loose and goes after her, it’ll save me the trouble of keeping her from killing me. No, let’s just do this.”
Qyll hesitated. “Take care. I’m calling in the SMART team. We obviously need backup. I don’t have a good feeling about this night. And I do not wish to fill out the paperwork it would take to explain your demise.”
“Gee, thanks. I’ll be fine. Go on.” I shooed him away.
He nodded and slipped behind some trees to the east. Dorcha melted into the shadows to the west.
I said my quieting spell. Dorcha being a cat would automatically be in stealth mode, and Elves aren’t exactly known for drawing attention to themselves if they don’t want to.
There was activity in the same clearing I’d visited a few days ago. I peered from behind a thick poplar. The area had been cleared down to dirt and tamped smooth. White lines and squiggles glowed in the light from a fire in a pit to the north. A few stepstools were sat around, covered in drying mud. In a center of a summoning circle drawn on the earthen floor, a golem loomed, a figure nearly twelve feet high and half as broad, more a wall than a man. A Human swayed next to it, chanting, her hands raised. Several other chanters walked around the circle, their white tunics streaked with dirt. Puddles of dark magic glittered in the changing light.
I calmed my mind and searched for all the raw energy I could get my hands on. Ley lines aren’t really ‘good’ or ‘evil,’ they just are. Just like electricity isn’t good or bad, it’s what you do with it that determines its purpose. For example, electric chair death? Bad. Making a grilled cheese? Good. Lucky for me, we bordered the river, which meant a constant flow of air and water energies. I sucked in as much as I could hold. I even funneled some into my cloak, tattoos, and triple goddess pendant.
The magic around was intense. I wasn’t sure how these newbies could stand it, unless some kind of a protection spell was in place. It raked over everything in its path, clotting and coating every animal, vegetable, and mineral. The problem is, unstructured magic is very dangerous. People can get hurt and like Qyll, I had a sinking feeling that tonight, more than one person would be. Beyond the intense magic though,
something else seethed: anger. Ann’s pure grief had curdled into white-hot fury, and that had come alive, mixed with the energy she channeled to make her clay man.
The swaying figure looked up. Ann Bartley. Her face was a mix of profound focus and plain crazy. “Brothers and sisters, the time has come. We have made ourselves clean in the eyes of the one true God, and we ask Him to bless our ritual this night. The Lord says, I will rid the land of evil beasts, and the sword will not go through your land. You will chase your enemies, and they shall fall by the sword before you. Five of you shall chase a hundred, and a hundred of you shall put ten thousand to flight; your enemies shall fall by the sword before you. So says the Lord.” The others murmured and raised their hands as they stopped their circling and stood facing their shepherd.
As I crept through the trees to get a different view, I noticed something in the center of the circle next to the golem. A figure bundled in a white sheet, blood seeping through in a morbid Rorschach. Icy realization crystallized in my brain.
She held her hands out to the golem. “Speak with me, brothers and sisters, the sacred words. Speak with me, now. Speak! We raise our army tonight in the name of God the Almighty so we might smite the demons on Earth!” There was something of a charismatic preacher in her delivery. One that completely believed in their cause.
Her voice rang with otherworldly power as she began the incantations in a language I didn’t recognize. The shift of energy was fierce, as if the Earth itself had been nudged out of orbit. The trees stilled. Dark purple energy swirled around Ann, the prone figure, the statue, her disciples.
The others chanted with her, some of them falling to the ground flailing, like the Pentecostals in their ecstasy.
Part of me couldn’t look away. I wanted to see if Ann could really do it, if an untrained Human could create and control a creature like a golem.
But the real truth was, I couldn’t kill Ann Bartley.
Besides the fact that I’m not into killing, period, Witchcraft 101 says whatever you send out comes back at you times three. I couldn’t afford to have a death on my permanent record, even an accidental death. I would have to settle for golemus interruptus.
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