Wicked Whispers

by Nina Bangs

  Klepoth glanced around. “I have a bad feeling about this.”

  Murmur nodded his agreement. Everyone except Dacian had met during the day and talked defense and offense until he wanted to tell them to shut up. There was no defense against the faery host. You were either more powerful than them or you weren’t. And considering their numbers, he was coming down on the side of “we’re screwed.”

  “None of them have ever seen the faery host. I have.” He clasped Ivy’s hand and held on tight. He speared her with his gaze. “If things start to go south, stay with me. I’ll make sure you get out of here.”

  “You’re scaring me.” She looked uncertain.

  He didn’t want to frighten her, but she had to understand how dangerous the faery hunt was. “You’ll be safe as long as you stay with me.” She would’ve been safer if she were in Kellen’s damn room.

  Through all of this, Bain said nothing. He just stared into the sky.

  And then it was too late to worry.

  Next to him, Klepoth whispered. “Holy hell.”

  The Sluagh Sidhe came.

  A roiling black cloud filled the sky, darker than the night as it swept toward the castle from the west. It blocked out the moon, and as it grew closer Murmur could make out shapes and faces. Terrible and terrifying, the cloud that was no cloud drew near enough for everyone in the courtyard to realize that thousands raced through the air toward them.

  “Oh, shit.” Zane said it for all of them.

  Sidhe knights—tall, slender, with their cold faces and long, silvery hair—rode through the sky mounted on faery horses. Beside them raced their hunting hounds—huge black beasts with glowing eyes and slavering jaws. Hundreds of the fae filled the sky above the castle. And flying with them were humans, their bodies lost in the swirling cloud. But Murmur could see their faces—screaming, crying, horrified faces.

  The gargoyles roared their challenge into the sky. Without warning, the gargoyles beside the great hall doors disintegrated, leaving nothing more than a pile of rock dust.

  Zane glanced at Holgarth. “That can’t be good. If we survive, you might consider replacing them with missiles.”

  It was a testament to how upset Holgarth was that he didn’t even come up with a sarcastic reply.

  A voice emerged from the mass of faeries converging above the castle. “We followed your music, demon. You desire something. State your wish, and then we’ll dance.” Pregnant pause. “Or perhaps you’ll die.”

  Everyone in the courtyard looked at Murmur.

  Bain moved closer. “Do you want me to speak?” His face had grown pale.

  Murmur could only imagine what his friend felt now that he was so close to Elizabeth. Before Ivy, he wouldn’t have understood. “No, they want to speak with me.” Ivy squeezed his hand.

  He shouted into the sky. “We propose a trade before the dance begins. You have a human named Elizabeth. We would like to trade one of ours for her.”

  The faery laughed. “Why would we do that? What is to stop us from keeping the one we already have and also taking the one you offer?”

  Now began the game of chicken. “Ganymede, Edge, and Sparkle Stardust stand with me.” Murmur knew the Sidhe would recognize the cosmic troublemakers’ names and know how deadly they would be in a fight. “Two demons, a vampire, a wizard, a sorcerer, and a demigoddess also are ready to defend the castle.” He didn’t mention Passion because he still wasn’t sure what to call her.

  Braeden looked at him, and Murmur mouthed, “Not yet.” The faery was one of their own, and his words might carry weight as a last resort.

  “Impressive.” The faery’s voice sounded as though he meant it. “Show us the one you wish to trade.”

  “This is Asima.” Murmur nodded for her to make her entrance.

  Asima glided into the moonlight. She was light and air, and Murmur would have bet she was using some of her power to glamour them all. Not that she needed to. He couldn’t imagine the faeries turning her down.

  “We accept the trade.”

  “Well, hell, that was too easy. They could’ve at least shown a little fight.” Ganymede sounded disgruntled.

  Suddenly, Asima was gone, and another woman stood in her place. Young, with long dark hair that fell around her shoulders and wide brown eyes, she wore a gown from another time. She looked terrified.

  Bain gave a choked cry and stumbled toward her. “Elizabeth!”

  She froze. “Bain?”

  He reached her and drew her into his arms. “You’re safe now.”

  Eyes wide and staring, she jerked away from him. She covered her mouth with her hand and backed away.

  Uh-oh. This didn’t look good. Murmur glanced skyward. He couldn’t see Asima. Braeden looked agitated. An agitated Gancanagh was not a good thing.

  “What’s wrong?” Bain didn’t move.

  “I want to go back to them.” She glanced toward the faery host. “I don’t belong here anymore.” Tears spilled from her eyes. “I’ll never belong here again.” She brushed at the tears with her hand. “I have someone I care…” Elizabeth seemed to remember who she was speaking to—a demon with immense power and a sometimes-uncertain temper. “I’m sorry, Bain. I’m so, so sorry.”

  Bain’s face was marked by the centuries he’d searched for her, all that he’d sacrificed for this moment. Everything he felt lived in his eyes—fury, sorrow, and in the end, no expression at all. “Go. Return to your faery lover.”

  Murmur really didn’t want to break this to the guy in the sky. “Elizabeth doesn’t wish to stay here. Take her back and return Asima. The trade is canceled.”

  Laughter filtered down from above. “But we are happy with the trade. We’ll keep Asima.”

  Braeden leaped into view, his fist raised toward the faeries. “She is mine. Return her.”

  “Braeden?” The faery sounded shocked. “We thought all Gancanaghs were lost. Mab will want to know.”

  At the same moment, the sound of feline frenzy broke over everyone. It was the high scream of an angry cat interspersed with howls and growls. Along with the furious hissing and yowling came shouts of pain.

  Ivy grabbed Murmur’s arm. “She’s returned to cat form to try to escape. We have to help her.”

  “I’m coming, Asima.” And Braeden simply winked out.

  A few seconds later, more angry shouts and the sounds of fighting echoed down to the courtyard.

  “We’ll have to save Asima, our beloved friend.” Ganymede sounded gleeful.

  “Beloved friend?” Sparkle sounded incredulous.

  “Crap, we can’t fight all of them.” Zane just sounded horrified.

  Ivy pulled Murmur’s head down so he could hear her above the shouts, yowls, and other assorted sounds of chaos. “Tell them who Asima is.”

  Murmur nodded. He shouted at the faeries. “Hey, listen up. Asima is the messenger of Bast. The goddess is the protector of cats. I don’t think you want a pissed-off lion in your lap.”

  Silence fell for a moment.

  “Bast?”

  “Right.”

  “You tricked us.”

  The faery sounded more outraged than angry. But then, not many would dare mess with the Sluagh Sidhe.

  “We’ll consider your request.”

  It was said with such venom that Murmur knew there would be payback, not something he wanted to dwell on.

  “No.” Ivy’s voice was filled with horror.

  It took a moment for Murmur to realize Ivy wasn’t commenting on his negotiation with the faery. He turned to follow her gaze. “Great. Just freaking great.”

  Kellen had almost reached them. His expression said he knew he was in deep shit, but he didn’t care.

  Ivy pulled away from Murmur and grabbed Kellen’s arms. “What do you think you’re doing? It’s dangerous out here. Go back to your room. Now.” Her voice shook with fear for her brother.

  His expression turned stubborn. “No. I deserve to be here. I can help.”

  Murmur didn
’t need one more thing to complicate his really crappy night, but he got it anyway.

  Thousands of voices rose from the faery host. Shocked, everyone in the courtyard stared into the sky.

  “She comes, she comes!” The cries rose, voices filled with fear, awe, wonder.

  “Who the hell is coming?” Dacian looked as though he wanted to rip someone’s throat out.

  Murmur couldn’t blame him. “I only know one person who’d cause that reaction.” He closed his eyes, took a deep, calming breath, and opened them again. “Mab.”

  The faery leader’s voice announced what Murmur had already guessed.

  “Mab—Queen of Air and Darkness, the Winter Queen, and Queen of the Unseelie Court honors us with her presence. Kneel.”

  Murmur glanced around the courtyard. Nope, no one was kneeling. Way to tick off the queen. Of course, he wasn’t kneeling either. He was too busy trying to shove Kellen back into the castle where Mab couldn’t see him.

  “Stop, demon.”

  Too late. Mab stood on the walkway at the top of the wall. And even though Murmur had seen her once, thousands of years ago, the sight of her still weakened him.

  The queen of the Unseelie Court was icy beauty so perfect that one look told you she was not of earth. Large eyes as dark as the coldest winter night; full, red lips that would smile even as she killed; and hair so black that Murmur almost suspected she’d absorbed the darkness around her.

  Her dress was made of icy ripples that sparkled and gleamed. And even as he stared, ice crept over the castle. Icicles hung from ledges and roof, sheets of ice spread across the courtyard, and ice wrapped everything not flesh and blood in a shimmering cocoon.

  Murmur shivered. He grabbed Ivy’s hand and held it tightly. She still had her hand on Kellen’s arm. He leaned close. “No matter what you do, don’t touch her. Let me protect Kellen.” Mab could deal out instant death too quickly for him to save Ivy. Too quickly for him to save himself either, but he wouldn’t pass that info on to her.

  Mab’s gaze focused on Kellen. Emotion touched her eyes. Murmur doubted that happened very often. She floated effortlessly down to the courtyard.

  “Come here, child.” She beckoned.

  Kellen didn’t react to being called a child. He moved away from Ivy’s hand and started toward Mab.

  “No.” Ivy reached for him.

  Murmur grabbed her, pulled her back, and whispered his warning: “You can’t fight Mab. She’ll destroy you, and then what good will you be to Kellen? She won’t hurt him, and we’ll find a way to stop her.”

  He felt Ivy shudder. She clenched her hands into fists, and Murmur knew she was only a heartbeat away from ignoring what he’d said and racing after her brother. He wrapped his arm around her waist and hung on.

  Kellen stood in front of Mab, and only a fool wouldn’t see the resemblance. She reached out and touched his cheek. Murmur could see the tiny ice crystal that remained there.

  “Tirron told me of you, but I couldn’t believe him. I had to see for myself.” Her expression softened. “You look exactly like my son. You’ll return with me to Faery and take your rightful place as a faery prince. You’ll learn about your true heritage and soon forget your life here.”

  Murmur clamped his hand over Ivy’s mouth to stop her shout. She bit him. He grimaced but didn’t take his hand away.

  “I’m afraid that neither of you will be returning to Faery, my queen. Oh, wait, you are no longer my queen.”

  Murmur knew that voice. With a growl, he released Ivy and swung to confront the new threat. Tirron stood behind him. But that’s not what had caught Murmur’s immediate attention. From the east, across the Gulf, swept an army of faeries. They weren’t dressed as knights, and along with them came what looked like hundreds of the darkest fae dredged from the depths of the faery realm. Murmur stepped from between Mab and Tirron. He dragged Ivy with him.

  “You would rebel against me? You would attempt to overthrow me?” With every word, the night grew darker, colder. Snow began to fall.

  Tirron’s laughter had a hysterical note to it. “I first planned to create a war between the Sluagh Sidhe and those in this castle. I knew it would draw you from Faery, here to the mortal plane, where you would be most vulnerable. That did not go as planned. But as soon as I saw the boy, I knew I could use him. You would leave Faery to see the one who wore your son’s face. That sentimental mistake means someone else will rule the Unseelie Court by morning.”

  Defining moments don’t come often, but Ivy recognized one when it slapped her in the face. She was at exactly the right angle to see what Tirron held cupped in his hand. She didn’t have to know what it was to understand it was meant to kill Mab. For a split second, Mab’s gaze touched Kellen, her arm outstretched to push him from harm’s way. Everyone else’s attention was on the queen, waiting to see what she’d do.

  Tirron raised his hand.

  There was no time for questions—Whose survival would keep those she loved safe? Which one was a lesser evil? Did she want to be responsible for someone’s death?

  No thinking time, only reaction time.

  “Watch out!” Even as she shouted, she flung her puny puff of faery power at Tirron. As it had before, it did little more than knock him down.

  He never got up.

  Mab took in the situation at a glance. She smiled. She didn’t even raise her hand, but between one moment and the next, she encased Tirron in ice. His horrified expression was frozen forever behind his ice wall. “Foolish one. You were not the first to challenge me. I’ll simply add you to the ice sculptures in my garden. You’ll fit right in among all the others who thought to overthrow me.”

  Then Mab stared at Ivy.

  Ivy knew she looked stricken. Tirron had terrified her, and she’d wanted him gone from her life, but violent death still sickened her. Especially when she was directly responsible for said death.

  Mab spoke. “I owe you a life-debt.” The queen frowned as she stared more closely at Ivy. “You also bear my son’s blood.”

  “Kellen is my brother.” A life-debt? Hope flickered in Ivy. The queen owed her a favor.

  There was no more time for conversation. Tirron’s ragtag group of rebels had to know their leader was dead and that their only hope for survival lay in completing Tirron’s bungled job. They swept from the sky in a rush of frigid air and rage-filled cries.

  Mab held out her arms and spread her fingers. Crystal shards of ice formed at the end of each one. “Attack!” And her knights streamed down from above. The snow fell harder, faster until it became a blizzard.

  Murmur shouted above the sounds of battle. “Faery war! Everyone into the castle.” He looked at Ivy. “I’m going after Kellen. Stay safe.”

  Without giving Ivy a chance to say that she wanted to go with him, Murmur pointed her toward a door she could no longer see through the driving snow, and then disappeared into the white wall of the blizzard. Damn, she was turned around. Panicked, she stood still trying to get her bearings.

  Sparkle appeared beside her. She held a grumbling Ganymede in her arms. “It’s colder than the devil’s tits out here. Let’s get inside.”

  “Fighting all around me, and I can’t do anything. I want to tear something apart, knock something down, blow something up.”

  “I’m sure you do, sweetie.” Sparkle patted his head. “I’ll get you all comfy inside with a big bowl of ice cream and the remote. You can watch a violent, gory movie.”

  The cat’s hiss told Ivy what he thought of Sparkle’s idea.

  Ivy peered into the driven snow. “I can’t go in. Murmur’s out there searching for Kellen.” She wrapped her arms around her body and tried to stop shivering.

  Sparkle grabbed her arm and pulled. “Then there’s nothing to worry about. Murmur will bring him back.”

  Before any of them could move, about a dozen of Mab’s knights stumbled into view. They held a large sack made of some kind of faery cloth. Screams of feline rage came from inside the bag.
And from the way the sack was bouncing and heaving, Ivy understood why it took all of them to hang on to it.

  “You belong to us now, little bitch. You’ll fly with the Sluagh Sidhe until we say you can leave.” The knight spoke through gritted teeth. Livid scratches covered his face and hands.

  Ivy gasped. “They have Asima. We have to help.”

  Sparkle looked puzzled. “Why would we want to do that?”

  “She’s our friend.” Ivy took a look at Sparkle’s expression. “Okay, so she’s my friend. Do something.”

  Sparkle glanced around as though she might spot someone else who’d ride to Asima’s rescue. She stared down at Ganymede.

  He glared up at her. “Forget it. I’m depressed. I don’t do good deeds when I’m depressed. Besides, those faeries look a bloody mess. Asima’s winning the fight. I bet they’re afraid to let her out of the bag.” He closed his eyes.

  Then Sparkle looked back at Ivy. She heaved a huge exaggerated sigh. “I can’t believe I’m agreeing to this.” She moved closer to the faeries. “You only desire one thing”—Sparkle glanced around—“to get naked and seduce that tree.” She pointed to a small tree barely visible through the driving snow. “Oh, and you might want to lose the cat. The tree is a jealous lover.”

  Without even blinking, the faeries dropped the sack and ripped off their clothes. Asima crawled from the bag and launched herself at Ivy. She put up her hands just in time to catch the cat.

  “I’d love to stick around and watch.” Sparkle seemed serious. “But I’m freezing.”

  Ivy’s final view of the faeries was of them naked and pushing each other aside for a chance to stroke the tree. Nope, didn’t want to see any more. She stumbled after Sparkle with Asima in her arms. “Will they stop?”

  Sparkle shrugged. “When I release them.” She leaned into the wind as she stumbled toward the door. “Which will be right about now. It’s too freaking cold to concentrate.”

  Once inside the great hall, Ivy set Asima on the floor. They were both still shivering. Ivy ran back to the door. “I have to find Murmur and Kellen.”