by WB McKay
I reached for my sword, the instinct to fight surging through me. But there was no way to fight a swarm of thousands of bugs. Even my magic would be useless.
"Graulfv," I shouted, stepping up beside him. He was still standing, despite the pained screams. His arms covered his face. It was a good thing,too. I could see hundreds of holes in his clothes. The insects were eating through them, and his skin. The warning on the sign flashed through my head. They were going to eat him alive. "We have to get you out of here."
I spun him around and shoved him into motion. My lip curled at the sensation of crushed wings sliding under my hands as I pushed him forward. It was almost impossible to see through the cloud of pink wings, but the ground was flat and smooth. Even blind and in pain, Graulfv made good time once I got him moving.
Gradually, the cloud dissipated until I was able to see clearly. I beat the bugs away from Graulfv's head and pulled his arms down from his head. "They're gone. Help me get the last of them off you."
Together, we destroyed the last of the terrifying butterfly creatures that clung to Graulfv's body. Besides the beautiful wings, they were mostly huge mouths with giant mandibles. I let out an involuntary shudder.
Once we'd retreated from the castle, the insects returned to the trees. Without the pink wings, the trees were just skeletal branches.
I surveyed Graulfv's injuries. There was plenty of blood staining his clothes, but it wasn't as bad as I'd been braced for. While it had felt like forever when he was screaming, in truth, it had only been a few seconds. "You okay?"
He nodded. "I didn't know what to do. There was something in their bites that caused more pain than the damage they did. I expected to find my skin had been ripped off. I could only focus on keeping them away from my eyes."
"At least you're not badly hurt," I said, wondering what would have happened if I hadn't been there.
"They didn't attack you," said Graulfv, wiping blood from his face with a cloth he pulled from his back pocket.
I tapped the crown on top of my head. It was the only reason I could come up with. "Must be the Fleece. The magic makes me seem important."
Graulfv shrugged. "You are important."
I ignored the comment. I doubted I wanted to know why Graulfv thought that; it likely had something to do with being The Morrigan's daughter. "Well, looks like I'm going this one alone."
"You can't sneak into the castle of such a powerful fae on your own," argued Graulfv.
I nodded toward the thousands of flesh-eating insects waiting on the trees. "Tell that to them," I said, giving him a lopsided grin. "Besides, it might be better if I go alone. One person can sneak around more easily than two, and I doubt that you would make much of a difference if I got caught." His face turned down like I'd slapped him. "Graulfv, I didn't think I'd have to baby your feelings like this. Come on. You know that two against an army wouldn't be much better than one."
His features brightened slightly, but his brow stayed turned down. "I still don't like it."
The truth was that I didn't like it much myself, which surprised me. I used to prefer doing these things alone, but it seemed I'd learned to like having other people to rely on. Still, it wasn't any fun having those people eaten alive. "Don't worry so much," I told him. "You're going to make me think you doubt my skills."
"You didn't name me Smarty for nothing, Sophie. I would never doubt you." He smiled at that. "Now, go retrieve the armor so we can make an ill-advised attempt to depose the king of Derinia." He turned his head to look back the way we came. "I'll wait for you back at the last bend in the trail."
I returned his smile. "You're a good man, Graulfv." I patted him on the shoulder. "Also, dinner wouldn't be scoffed at when I get back."
"Sophie hungers," he said, again mocking himself from our first encounter. "All is right with the world."
He turned away and left me with my mouth agape. "Did he just make fun of me?" I asked the empty air. Stick around long enough and people will surprise you. "Hmph."
I turned back toward the castle and marched past the gently fluttering wings of thousands of pretty little predators. I sighed. Whatever I found inside, it was bound to be worse.
CHAPTER SIX
Inside was definitely worse, but not because of what happened. It was worse because of what didn't happen. I was dying of anticipation. I'd walked right up to the castle, completely unchallenged. I didn't even see a guard walking the perimeter. I just kept waiting for a death ray to shoot out of nowhere and turn me into a smoldering cinder. Or for a clown with pointy teeth to jump out from behind a closed door and slash my throat with a knife.
The hall that I entered was lined with half a dozen non-descript doors, likely teeming with evil clowns. I crept past them on light feet, and winced at the tapping sound my shoes made on the stone floor. Even my breathing was too loud.
I comforted myself with logic. This was definitely a servant's entrance to the castle. Guards were lax because they depended heavily on the castle's magical protections, like the cloud of flesh-eating insects, to keep the inhabitants safe. Of course, this led to a new flurry of doubts. Why hadn't I run into more of those magical protections? Was this a trap, designed to lure me in where I could be more easily captured?
I made it to the end of the door lined hallway without a single evil clown, and finally heard some noises on the other side. Strangely, I found this comforting. If they were making noise, they weren't hiding in preparation for an ambush.
The door swung open silently at a touch, and I peered around the edge of it, looking for the source of the voices.
All feelings of trepidation were quickly swept aside by the mind-boggling sight spread before me.
The plain gray stone and boring wooden doors of the servant's hall I'd just left were replaced with marble and ornate carvings. All of that barely registered to the regular person inside of me that enjoyed resplendent architecture and decoration. My attention was pulled just to my right, to a wall covered with the most beautifully ornate weapons I'd ever seen.
While the weapons initially drew my attention, surprisingly, it was the musical instruments that really held my focus. A beautiful violin was displayed next to an ornate sabre, and outshined it in some ways. It was probably because I could hear it playing. I thought I was hallucinating at first, but I quickly caught the slight odor of magic being employed in my vicinity. The more I concentrated on the violin, the better I could hear its sweet melody. There was no echo, so the sound must have been projected to me mentally.
I moved past a couple of swords with intricate swirling patterns etched into their blades and stopped at a horn and listened to its brassy tones, picturing a squadron of soldiers marching in formation.
I shook off the feeling of the music and focused on my surroundings. I still wasn't approached as an intruder. There were voices coming from at least three rooms down the corridor. It wasn't loud enough for me to make out words through the doors, but the cadence of them was unfamiliar. Probably speaking languages I wasn't familiar with. In other words, not English. I should probably take the time to learn another couple of languages. Maybe Owen could teach me. It might help me keep focused if he was my teacher. I usually got too frustrated with the slow pace of progress to get farther than a few basic words.
My mental rambling was another attempt to keep the creeping feeling of a trap at bay. It wasn't working. I surveyed the hall and tried to decide which way to go. If I were a priceless piece of armor, where would I be?
Normally, I would have said in an armory, but from where I stood, I could see a couple sets of priceless armor on display behind glass cases.
Where then, would I keep armor with value far beyond price? The answer hit me immediately; I'd keep it in my bedroom.
Great, now I had to sneak my way into the personal quarters of a man who rivaled The Morrigan for power. Sure, it hadn't been hard sneaking around so far, but there was no way that luck could hold out. If it was even luck to begin with.
&
nbsp; Well, I'd come this far, I wasn't about to turn around just because something was bound to go wrong. If I lived like that, I'd never leave the house.
The decorations in the hall seemed to get more pronounced and regal to my left, so I went that way. Voices continued to filter to my ears from rooms along the way, and more than once my eye was drawn to the polished silver and gold of a beautiful sword. I did my best to avoid the distractions. Gradually, the music and war theme on the walls gave way to scrolls written in calligraphy and encased in glass.
Because it was always better to know your enemy, I stopped to read one. The words left my head as soon as I looked away from the scroll, but I was left with a profound sense of longing and heart swelling joy. I knew that the words had been the most beautiful poetry. I wanted to read it again, but I knew the enchantment on the scroll would prevent me from recalling the words as soon as I stopped.
It seemed that the description of Aengus in On Seelie Fae was accurate. He loved weapons, poetry, and music—and he hoarded them greedily. I wouldn't be allowed to leave with even a memory of his collection. When I searched my thoughts to recall the weaponry I'd seen earlier, it was gone as well. Even the feelings the poetry inspired had dissipated.
"Selfish," I grumbled to myself, and opened the door at the end of the hall.
It was immediately evident I'd entered a different area of the castle, a more residential space. There were red couches in various nooks. They were as sumptuous as you would expect in a powerful person's castle, but they were geared more toward comfort than opulence. The large staircase to my left was more of the same, beautiful marble with golden trimmings, but not the massive showpiece I would expect in an area meant for entertaining. The entire room glowed with casual elegance. "I've been watching too much HGTV."
A noise came from the top of the stairs, the clink of shifting metal. Then an armored guard peered down at me from over the railing. "You there! Stop!"
Hot damn. I need to learn to stop talking to myself. As much as I wanted to run, I'd known this was a possibility, and I knew that running was a bad choice that would bring more guards. I still had searching to do; I couldn't be caught yet. Two heavily armored guards, bristling with weapons, clattered to a stop in front of me with their swords drawn.
"Howdy!" I smiled broadly.
"State your business. What purpose do you have here?" said guard number one. He had on a helmet that covered all of his face except for a narrow slit across his eyes. It made the helmet look like it was squinting.
The other guard just grunted and poked his sword toward my middle.
"Way to get right down to business," I complimented. "Would you like to introduce yourselves first, though? Nothing? Okay. Squinty and Grunty it is then." I pointed to them in turn. "So, Squinty, you've presented me with a real problem. I need to find some fireproof armor, and I'd hoped to do it without fighting because I'd rather Aengus didn't know I was here."
Squinty's shoulders moved back, his spine stiffening. I was pretty sure he was conveying surprise at my words. "Well, that shouldn't be too difficult," he said, sheathing his sword. "Aengus keeps that armor in his personal chambers, just up there." He pointed to the top of the stairs he'd just come from.
"What the hell is going on here?" I asked Grunty. His only response was to put his sword away as well. I studied the look on his face, since his helmet left his eyes and mouth exposed. A glazed admiration beamed out at me. I adjusted the crown on my head and looked up as if that would help me see it. "Ah, you're up to your old tricks, messing with their heads." Damn. I really thought I'd been doing better at blocking the Fleece. I'd learned to control my fear magic, I learned more about my death light all the time and felt confident I had it under control. Why couldn't I stop the Fleece? The creeping feeling that the crown was smarter than me raised the hairs on the back of my neck. It had felt so quiet lately. Had that been on purpose? Was it tricking me? My gut said that was right, but I couldn't understand why it would be doing that. I poked at my hair again, adjusting the Fleece. What game are you playing? I thought at it. It didn't respond.
Well, whatever the case, the Fleece was back now and it had my attention. "While I can't say that I like manipulating people like this, it is rather convenient."
Both Grunty and Squinty looked confused at my last statements. "Oh, not you boys," I said, and they looked relieved. "I need the two of you to go back to your positions, let me go about my business, and not remember any of this interaction. Will you do that?"
"Yes, ma'am," they replied in unison.
They spun and trundled back up the stairs, leaving me with my mouth hanging open. I'd included the part about forgetting the interaction mostly because it's what they said on human television shows. I hadn't expected a simple response like 'yes, ma'am'. I couldn't imagine that a fae as powerful as Aengus would put security guards in front of his personal chambers that were capable of lying. So, either the Fleece had just made them lie anyway, or it was somehow able to make them forget our interaction. I shuddered at the implications.
I followed the guards up the stairs and found them standing on either side of a heavy wooden door decorated in gold music notes. They stared impassively in front of them as if I weren't standing there. I had the urge to question them further and figure out what kind of influence the Fleece had, but I suppressed it. I'd really rather not know. Somehow, someday soon, I needed to get this crown out of my life. Just thinking about it made my skin crawl. "Better to just get in and get out with what I came for."
I opened the door and was immediately smacked with the lavender and berries scent of magic. It smelled delicious. I closed the door behind me and wandered into the large room. Like I'd expected, Aengus's chambers were far more than a bedroom. Just from where I stood, I could make out five mostly separate rooms through three archways. "This might take some time."
There was a thunderous voice and heavy steps marching up the stairs. "Yes, sir," chimed Squinty and Grunty in unison. Time was not something I was going to get.
CHAPTER SEVEN
The heavy steps drew close to the door, and I heard the booming voice again. He wasn't speaking English, but there was no mistaking the authority in his tone. Aengus.
I ran through three rooms in quick succession, scrambling for a place to hide. One looked like a tea room with no furniture more substantial than a spindly legged table to hide behind. Another was a sitting room with couches and chairs. I might have been able to hide behind a couch, but if someone came to sit on it, I was screwed. The last room was a bedroom with a gigantic bed in the middle, and a nice large window. Perfect.
The doors to the chambers opened and a couple sets of heavy feet entered. They echoed clearly on the marble floors. I took off my shoes and quietly stuffed them in my bag.
"That's what I'm saying. She's definitely a force to be reckoned with," said the voice from outside. It was no longer booming, but it was definitely the same person. What would Aengus do if he caught me in his bedroom? What would The Morrigan have done? I gulped hard and decided not to think about it; panicking wouldn't help.
I peered around the room I was in, back to focusing on my objective. I walked over to the window and carefully opened it. Thank fae for well-oiled window hinges. It was large enough that I could jump out it if the need arose. I didn't remember coming up multiple sets of stairs, but somehow, I had a commanding view of the countryside, and a fifty foot drop to the ground. Score another one for having wings.
Aengus was speaking again, and I found myself wondering if he had wings. I hadn't read the physical description of him in the book because I hadn't expected to have an encounter so soon. "The Orani situation is causing problems. Golems have begun migrating through their territory."
Uh oh. That may have been my fault. I'd have to think about that later. I tuned out the rest of what he was saying to focus on my mission.
The window was open. I had an escape plan. If he had wings and chased me, I'd be able to outfly him, or cut hi
m down with a sword if need be.
Time to find the armor.
There were three doors in the bedroom. One led back into the main part of the chambers where Aengus was engaged in conversation. I opened the one on the left and found a gigantic closet packed with clothes and shoes. No armor. He was really fond of bright colored clothing, though.
The talking grew animated; Aengus's booming voice sent a chill down my spine. Faster would be better, I oh-so-helpfully thought.
The other door opened into a large room covered with weapon racks and shelves stocked with every kind of weapon and armor I could imagine. Beautiful stars of light burst into my vision, and my ears rang almost painfully. It was glorious, and exactly what I was looking for, and yet, it was so much more than that, too. I'd spent most of my life curbing my urges of covetousness. I had two swords that served me well. Why did I need more? I didn't, so I didn't get more. But I wanted to have more. The word "want" was so insufficient as to be laughable. I desired to have more. I thirsted for more. I… needed more.
Which is why I didn't have them.
Discipline was the answer. Cold turkey living, that was the life for me. Discipline and focus and goals in life that did not involve…
The light winked over silver and gold and perfectly set jewels.
I started formulating plans for cleaning out the whole room while I stroked the soft leather handle of a sword that was almost twice as long as I would ever need. Then my eyes fell on the centerpiece of the collection. Two spears hovered in soft, glowing light in the middle of the room. They made a big, beautiful X, like on a pirate's map. X marks the spot.
My feet walked toward them of their own volition. I took in their details, wondering at what made them so familiar. It was as if I'd held them before, though I'd never used a spear. There was etching on the blades at the ends, and an intricate golden pattern that traced down the length of the spears which would give excellent grip. A lot like the handles of Epic and Haiku. "No, exactly like Epic and Haiku," I said, my eyes widening in surprise.