by Jane Godman
The woman who stood poised just inside the door was tall and willow slender with hair as white as snow and an equally pale complexion. In contrast, her eyes were so dark that, like black holes in the emptiness of space, they reflected no light. Her features were sharply hewn and, while the overall impression was of beauty, it was also of ice. She wore a floating gown in shades of blue and green that made Stella think of seaweed stirred by ocean waves.
“My God, what a striking-looking woman. Who is she?” Stella whispered.
“Niniane. Known as the Lady of the Lake,” Lorcan whispered back. “The most powerful sorceress in Otherworld. The vainest being that ever walked either world. The woman who, centuries ago, seduced Merlin, cast a spell on him and trapped him in a prison made of rock in the French forest of Brocéliande, or, as it was better known at that time, Darnantes.”
“You could have just said she’s Cal’s ex. I’d have known who you meant.” Stella tried to keep the huffiness out of her voice. She didn’t think her efforts worked.
“Ah, so you know all about that.” With difficulty, Lorcan dragged his eyes away from Niniane, who was making her way across the room toward Moncoya. “Look, Stella, we all have that one ex we don’t want to talk about. In my case she was a sweet girl who made me all my favorite meals and then tried to run me down with her car when she caught me talking to her best friend. Cal’s ex just happens to be Niniane...the woman who nearly destroyed the whole universe when he attempted to end it with her.”
Moncoya had risen from his seat and gone to greet Niniane with his hands outstretched. At the same time, Prince Tibor joined them and the threesome stood together, hands clasped. It was a powerful statement to all those assembled. A triumvirate you wouldn’t want to mess with. But we’ve got no choice. We have to take them on. Stella felt an icy finger prod her spine.
The implication of Niniane’s presence hit Stella with the force of a rampaging bull. She clutched Lorcan’s arm so hard that he let out a yelp. “She’s what Moncoya was talking about.”
“I’ve lost all feeling in that arm now.”
“Lorcan, we have to get down to the dungeons and get Cal out. Right now.”
“Sure, it may have escaped your attention, but we are right in the middle of your engagement party. And, in case you hadn’t noticed, your other half has some nasty friends lined up on his side.”
“Don’t you see?” Impatience was making Stella almost incoherent. She jabbed a finger in the direction of the threesome in the middle of the room. “Moncoya said he had a surprise for Cal. One that meant Cal wouldn’t be able to escape from his cell.”
Realization dawned on Lorcan’s face. “Oh, shit, Stella. It’s her, isn’t it? Niniane is Moncoya’s surprise. She incarcerated Cal at Darnantes and she’s been biding her time waiting to get him ever since he escaped. Now she’s back so they can imprison him indefinitely again.”
* * *
“You cannot leave your own betrothal feast.” Moncoya’s face was a mask of suspicion. “What will our guests think?”
“I don’t care what they think. If I don’t get some fresh air, I’ll throw up all over your chef’s spectacular dessert.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Try me.” Stella challenged him with her eyes. “It’s your own fault I feel like shit. You shouldn’t have made me fight Jethro.”
To the accompaniment of much “ooh-ing” and “aah-ing,” four waiters were staggering into the banquet hall, weighed down by a platter upon which was an elaborate cake in the shape of a swan. Stella spared a moment to register an incongruous thought. If I really was in love with him, the swan fetish would send me running screaming for the hills.
“Very well. I will escort you out to the gardens for a few minutes.”
Lorcan rose to his feet. “No need for both of you to leave your guests, Your Majesty. I’ll take Stella for a walk around the gardens.”
Moncoya’s eyes narrowed. He glanced from Stella to Lorcan and back again. “Get back here soon.”
“He’ll have us followed,” Lorcan muttered, grabbing Stella’s elbow as they hurried out of the hall.
“We can take out a few sidhes.” Once out into the long hallway, Stella broke into a run, propelling Lorcan along with her toward the building’s grand entrance.
“You’re starting to sound like Cal. Next thing you’ll be telling me it would be a good idea to go in search of the Holy Grail. And anyway, it’s not the sidhes I’m worried about. Before we even start on the subject of Moncoya, Niniane and Prince Tibor have each got the devil’s own temper on them.”
They stepped out into the sunlight. There was no one around. So far so good. “We’ll worry about them if we need to. For now let’s concentrate on the important stuff. How do we get to the dungeons from here?”
Lorcan glanced around. “Probably best if we go around to the back of the palace. I think there are steps down into the cellars and the dungeons are beyond those.”
After teetering and stumbling for a few yards in the unfamiliar heels, Stella removed her shoes and, after throwing them into a laurel bush, followed Lorcan along the pool-table-perfect grass borders. Twice they were forced to press themselves back against nooks and crannies within the pale stone walls as patrolling sidhe guards passed uncomfortably close.
Lorcan rolled his eyes. “This reminds me of my cousin’s wedding in Ballycasheen when I sneaked out to meet one of the bridesmaids. It was only when I’d had half the village after me with pickax handles did she think to mention she was to be married herself the next week.”
“I thought you were terribly shy around women?” Stella whispered back as they tiptoed around a corner.
“That was the start of my shyness.”
If the front of the castle was decorative, the rear, in contrast, was businesslike. Steep stone steps led down from the gardens to the basement level, and Stella immediately started to descend these. Lorcan, after a swift glance around, trailed after her. There was a nondescript door at the bottom of the stairs and Stella reached out a hand to open it.
Lorcan forestalled her. “Let me. We don’t know what’s inside.”
Almost hopping with impatience, Stella let him go first. When Lorcan was fully inside the cellar, she peered around him into the pervading darkness. There was a musty smell of old sackcloth, candle wax and silver polish.
“This isn’t a dungeon.” Although she had whispered, her voice sounded unnaturally loud, as though she had yelled the words.
“Beyond the cellars, that’s what I’ve heard said about Moncoya’s dungeons. But it’s too dark to see anything down here. We could be stumbling around all day, and Moncoya has us on the clock.”
Stella could feel bitter frustration burning the back of her throat. Focus. Getting overemotional was not going to help Cal. She raised her arm and swept her hand in a wide arc around the cellar. Instantly, the darkened space was filled with golden light. It looked just like a cellar should. Piled high with the sort of household necessities a property as vast as Moncoya’s palace would need to function.
Lorcan whistled. “Would’ve taken me ten minutes or more to get the place lit and I’d never have got it this bright.”
Stella prowled around, becoming increasingly despondent. “I don’t see anything that looks like it would lead to a dungeon.”
“Not unless you count that massive trapdoor you’re about to step onto.”
It took only seconds for them to haul the wooden door up by pulling on the iron ring in its center. The wooden panels fell back against the stone floor with a loud thunk and Stella gazed into the depths below. Roughly hewn stone steps led down, but it was so dark that she could see only the top two. It would be like stepping into nothing. This was for Cal. She placed her bare foot on the top step.
“Do you not think this is all a bit too easy, Ste
lla?” Lorcan’s question made her pause half in and half out of the opening. “If yon faerie feller really has Cal down there, would he not have a better guard around him than this? Can we be sure we are not walking straight into a trap?”
“No. But if there’s even the slightest chance he’s down here, I’m going anyway. With or without you.”
Lorcan’s sigh followed her into the murk. “You two really are made for each other, do you know that?”
I do. I’m just not sure if Cal agrees, Stella thought, as she felt her way gingerly into what felt like a rocky pit. But that was a problem for another time. Although she could no longer see her hand in front of her face, she was reluctant to use her powers to light their way. If there were any sidhes down here—and surely there must be?—it would be foolish to give them advance warning of their arrival. Lorcan was right. It felt like a trap. Using her right hand to guide her along the jagged wall, she held her left hand out in front of her. Beneath her feet the rocky floor was uneven and slimy. Water dripped onto her head and shoulders, and an ominous scurrying sound ahead signaled that they were not alone. Although it seemed the company might be of the rodent rather than the faerie variety.
“Ow! Shit...” Lorcan’s yelp of pain echoed in emptiness. “Banged my head,” he explained as Stella reached for him in the blackness.
“Who’s there?” Another voice rang out in response, coming to them as though along a tunnel. It wasn’t Cal, but Stella’s heart leaped hopefully in her chest as she recognized it.
“Jethro?” Stella moved on again.
“Stella! Thank God! There are rats down here the size of mountain dogs.”
Since their voices had not brought any sidhe guards screeching down upon them, Stella took the opportunity to cast a faint light ahead of her. As she had pictured, they were in a narrow tunnel. She could stand with an inch or two to spare. Behind her, Lorcan was uncomfortably hunched over. Up ahead the passage widened. Hurrying along to that point, she was faced with another channel. This one formed a T shape with the first and was much wider and higher. Along one side it was divided into a series of small cells, each of which had iron bars across the front. Jethro was standing inside one of these. He looked considerably less well-groomed than the last time Stella had seen him.
Stella didn’t waste time. “Where’s Cal?”
“They took him to the end cell. I’ve tried talking to him, but he hasn’t been answering me. Not since Niniane came down to see him.”
Cold terror seized her. “She has already been down here?”
“Yes, only minutes after they brought him...”
Not waiting to hear any more, she ran to the end of the line of cells. Lorcan was hard at her heels. The last cell in the row looked different from the others. In place of iron bars, there were slabs of white granite. It had been bricked up. Lorcan ran a finger along the joint between two stones, bringing it away to show Stella that the mortar was still drying.
“Fresh.” His voice was neutral, but his expression was raw. “That’s why it was so easy for us to get in here. They don’t need guards. That bitch Niniane got to him before we could.”
Chapter 22
“There must be a way to get through it. Why can’t the three of us working together even make a dent in it?” Tired and dejected, Stella slumped against the granite wall. She no longer cared that she had been missing from the party for over an hour, or that her dress was covered in a combination of dust and slime, her shoes gone and her fingernails broken from scrabbling at the marble slabs. She only cared that Cal was behind those bricks. Her head was aching with the fierceness of concentration, but her efforts had been to no avail. Nothing she did, even combining her own powers with those of Lorcan and Jethro—whom they had freed from behind his bars—had made any difference.
“Stella, even if we could get past the wall, she’s bespelled him. It’s what she did at Darnantes. The only person who can get to Cal now is Niniane herself.”
“No.” She shook her head. “The Dominions got him out last time. They will have to do it again.”
Lorcan sat down next to her. “Sure, and didn’t it take them centuries?” His voice was gentle. “And don’t we have a big battle to prepare for tomorrow?”
She looked up at him, tears blurring her vision. “I can’t do it without him.”
“You’re not without him. He’s given you the strength to be ready for this by teaching you everything he knows.”
Jethro cleared his throat. “I know I can’t replace Cal, but you can count me in. I’m with Team Stella from now on.”
“Come on.” Lorcan rose to his feet, reaching down a hand and pulling Stella up. “I’ll tell Moncoya you’re feeling no better and you’ve taken to your bed. Go to your room and get some rest.” He eyed Jethro thoughtfully. “I suppose you’ll be wanting somewhere to hide out until the fun starts tomorrow?”
“Does that mean we’re going to be roommates?”
“Let me tell you now, Jethro my friend, any snoring and it’s the balcony where you’ll be spending the night.”
Even their banter couldn’t raise a smile from Stella as, with a final backward glance at the walled-up cell, she trailed behind them out of the tunnel. How could she explain to Lorcan that her feelings of utter defeat weren’t just about facing Moncoya on the following day? The only thing that mattered anymore was the yawning chasm of awfulness that was the prospect of never seeing Cal again.
Closing and locking the door to the queen’s chambers behind her, Stella waded across the cloying carpet of the sitting room, grimacing as she stripped off her ruined dress. She halted as she stepped out of the offending garment, a frown creasing her forehead. The door to the bedroom was open. She was certain she had closed that door behind her when she left to go down to the feast. More than certain. She remembered it clearly because the beautiful crimson wrap had caught on the handle.
Someone had been in these rooms in her absence. A sound from the bedroom—so slight it might almost have been her imagination—caught her attention. Whoever had broken in was still there.
Stella’s exhaustion vanished and a tremor of fear and anticipation thrilled through her veins as she peered into the darkened bedroom. Who had a reason to break into her room? There were a few possibilities. Was it Vashti still harboring a grudge that Stella was occupying her sainted mother’s chambers? Moncoya feeling amorous? Prince Tibor seeking revenge for being forced to be part of Stella’s undead puppet show? Niniane seeking her out in jealousy over Cal? Or another Otherworld power looking to claim the heart of the necromancer star?
The voice that came from the gloom from beyond the bedroom door was unexpected and familiar. And beloved. “After the cave, I’m not sure I can get used to a bed this size. But I’m willing to give it a try as long as you hurry up and join me.”
“Cal?” The word came out as a squeak.
“Were you expecting someone else?”
In reply, she ran into the bedroom, forgetting her powers as her fingers groped wildly for the light switch. Cal laughed and turned on a lamp beside the bed. Stella stood still for a moment, drinking in the sight of him sitting on the bed, propped against the bank of pillows with his hands hooked behind his head and his long legs stretched in front of him. When she finally grasped that it was true—it really was him and not some wild trick of her imagination—she flew across the distance between them, throwing herself onto the bed and into his arms.
Between covering every available part of him with kisses, Stella fired a series of increasingly incoherent questions at him. After submitting to this onslaught for some time, Cal eventually caught hold of her and held her still, smoothing her hair with one hand. “Stella, look at me. Speak slowly.”
She subsided against him, her limbs still trembling. “How can you be here? Jethro told me Niniane had been to see you and I saw the bricked-
up cell for myself.”
Cal frowned. “You’ve been down to the dungeons?”
She held up a hand to show him her ragged nails. “I tried to tear the wall down with my bare hands.”
Catching her hand up to his lips, he kept it there as his eyes darkened to the gray of a storm-laden sky. “I wouldn’t have put you through that for the world. But I never imagined you’d leave the party before it finished. When you came in just now, I thought you’d come straight up here from the banquet hall. My God, I feel like such a louse.”
Stella took his face in her hands and very slowly pressed her lips to his. She touched the tip of her tongue to his luscious lower lip, tracing its perfect line. Cal angled his mouth to deepen the kiss, cradling her head with his hand. Until that precise moment as his touch unthawed her, Stella hadn’t even been aware that she was cold. Now she knew that the instant she had seen that granite wall the blood in her veins had turned to ice. “I still don’t understand how you are here. I saw the bricks with my own eyes. How did you escape?”
“I’ve had centuries to prepare for this. I knew Niniane would come for me again one day so I made ready for her. It was a case of letting her believe she’d trapped me again while making sure I kept my own, more powerful, barrier spell around me.” His arms tightened around her. “Her magic never touched me this time, Stella. It never came close and she didn’t suspect a thing. She went away laughing, telling me she would be back to see me later. As soon as she’d gone, I left the cell and came up here to wait for you. Even so, I can’t be sure I could fool her twice.”
“Tell me about Niniane. Why does she hate you so much?”
“Niniane doesn’t hate me. That’s the problem. But I don’t want to hold you in my arms and have to think about her at the same time.”
Stella rested her chin on his chest. “Just lately, I’ve read some of the stories about what is supposed to have happened between you and her. Now I need to hear the truth from you.”
He sighed. “There has been a lot of nonsense written about what went on between us. Only Niniane and I know what really happened and her version would be...distorted. The Dominion knows some of it. Lorcan knows a little more. The things you have read are part of the folklore that has built up around me over the centuries.” His smile was self-deprecating. “The modern world thinks it invented the cult of celebrity, Stella, but I am living proof that it has existed for thousands of years. What I’m trying to say is, it’s very unlikely you’ve read anything with even a grain of truth about me and Niniane. Oh, we had a relationship. I was dazzled by her...at first. Niniane is a chameleon. She was able to make me believe she was something she was not. Good, kind, pure of heart. It wasn’t long before I began to see through her. She is the most malevolent being I have ever encountered.” He stopped, appearing to consider the matter. “And, yes, I am including Moncoya in that. Moncoya’s evil stems from his out-of-control ambition. Niniane simply enjoys poisoning everything around her.”