“Not through these walls.” Cian touched the door frame, willing his wards to form. The house was so ancient that the wards came in an instant, infused into the building from generations of Mac Diarmuds. Good house, this. Cian patted the wall in fondness.
Reid spoke to Peigi a moment. She appeared dismayed and darted her gaze to Cian.
“I told her about your blood debt,” Reid said. “Now explain it to me.”
“It is simple. I need you.” Cian turned unrolled a map on a table, tacking down the corners with round glass weights. “The only iron master I knew about was you, exiled to the world of humans. The spell that kept you out was strong but I heard that you broke it once and fought beside dokk alfar. I sought them out. They told me that blood had let you come through, blood sacrificed.” He shrugged, trying not to shiver. Cian hadn’t been able to get warm since he’d let himself be drained, though his strength had finally returned. “So with the help of my lead spell-caster, I sacrificed mine. The spell was dissolved, and I could pull you in. I apologize for dumping you in front of a hoch alfar hunting party. Not my intention, but I could only control so much.”
Reid remained fixed in place after Cian finished, his eyes giving away nothing. Peigi, growing impatient with the long speech and the silence afterward, sent a question to him. Reid broke his gaze from Cian and translated.
Cian knew Reid told her exactly what Cian had said, because Peigi bent her dark glare on Cian.
If you’re going to piss off a Shifter, one of his friends had warned before Cian had taken this step, don’t choose a bear.
Cian added to himself, Especially not a female bear who thinks you’re endangering her mate.
“She admires your courage,” Reid told him. “Though not your methods. But we’re here.” He moved to the table and regarded the map with interest. “Wherever here is.”
Cian pointed to a drawn clump of buildings near the northern mountains. Those mountains were remote and wild, reached through territory no hoch alfar wanted to traverse, not to mention guarded by the warded barrier. The fact that a hunting party had turned up so close to the barrier warned him that the perimeter was already weakening.
“This city is called Harnsvall. We are closest to where the karmsyern resided.” He moved his finger to the range of mountains that snaked down about twenty miles from the city walls.
Reid leaned on the table, studying the map. He turned his head and spoke to Peigi, indicating what Cian had showed him. Peigi rested her hands next to his, the two of them at east with each other. They shared the informality of two people so in accord they didn’t need to exchange words.
“Any idea how a hoch alfar was able to steal it?” Reid asked.
“No.” Cian’s frustration knotted inside him, but he kept his voice calm. Running around yanking out his hair wouldn’t help the situation. “It was guarded by spells, plus the fact that it is pure iron. No hoch alfar should have been able to approach within miles of it. That’s why I suspect their tame Battle Beasts.”
Reid nodded agreement, his lips tightening in anger. His gaze moved from the area in question to a fold of land far to the west, as though drawn there involuntarily. Reid’s own territory, Cian realized. The elders had told him Reid came from Berlheim, which was in the west, between the mountains and the sea.
“There are a few problems with the idea that Shifters took it, though,” Cian went on. “Shifters don’t practice magic—they are magical beings themselves, but don’t use magic. They could carry off the karmsyern without being poisoned by the iron, but they’d have to negate the spells around it first. Some of those are cloaking spells.”
Reid translated for Peigi. Her brows drew together as he explained, then she turned intelligent eyes to Cian and asked a question.
“She wants to know if the karmsyern alone keeps out the hoch alfar,” Reid said. “As in, don’t we have guards and other things in place to alert us of their activity? And if not, why not?”
Cian answered Peigi directly. “You hit on a conundrum that has plagued us for centuries. Fought over, in fact. We do have guards, sentries, gates, bridges, warded barriers, and so forth, but the hoch alfar have poisoned arrows. If they want in badly enough, they come. Not many can enter at a time or penetrate very far, but they take what they please and disappear. The karmsyern at least prevents them from invading in force or staying long.”
Peigi’s next question was short. “Can’t you make another one?”
Cian let out a laugh, feeling marginally better. “I want you at the next privy council meeting. Sometimes our leaders have to be hit over the head with the obvious.”
“It’s a good point,” Reid said. “Melt some iron, do some chants, and Peigi and I go home.”
By home, he meant the world of humans and Shifters, Cian understood. Not Berlheim in Faerie. Interesting.
“Not so simple.” Cian tapped his fingers absently on the map. “The original was made not by a dokk alfar, but by a Tuil Erdannan, so the legend goes. We don’t have records, only oral tales.”
Peigi came alert. “Tuil Erdannan?” She turned to Reid and spoke rapidly.
“She wants to know which one,” Reid said.
“A dead one.” Cian shrugged. “That was centuries ago. Even the Tuil Erdannan have lifespans.”
“How about asking another Tuil Erdannan to make one for you?” Peigi asked through Reid. “Politely,” Reid added for himself.
Cian emitted a bitter laugh. “Because a blood sacrifice to retrieve an iron master to help raid the hoch alfar and restore the original is easier. Trust me.”
“We have a friend who knows a Tuil Erdannan,” Reid said. “Peigi is reminding me, as though I could forget. Lady Aisling. She might be able to help.”
Cian recalled the mad scramble from the mountain castle of the hoch alfar who’d captured him. He was still sore from the injuries he’d obtained during that adventure. A Tuil Erdannan had walked in, set everything on fire, told the hoch alfar leader to behave himself, swept up her friends, and departed.
His blood chilled as he thought of it, not that it had warmed much in the last week. “You mean Aisling Mac Aodha, Daughter of Lucas Eoghan Mac Aodha.”
“Lady Aisling, yes,” Reid said. “Is it worth it to ask her?”
“No.” Cian rubbed his arms. “And it’s not wise to say her name so casually either. They like respect.”
“Even though she’s hundreds of miles away?”
Cian checked the corners of the ceiling—watchers and listeners could be anywhere, never mind his wards. The Tuil Erdannan wouldn’t even notice the things. “Doesn’t matter. They’re the most powerful beings in creation. Always show them the utmost courtesy.”
Peigi broke in, her voice becoming more insistent.
“She says she’ll talk to Lady Aisling if we’re afraid to.” Reid’s smile spread. “She’s fearless.”
Cian wasn’t certain if Reid meant Peigi or Lady Aisling, then decided the adjective could apply to both.
“Even if Peigi isn’t afraid to talk to Aisling Mac Aodha, that is no guarantee she’ll agree. The affairs of dokk alfar and hoch alfar don’t concern them. The only reason she helped us escape Simeon’s fortress is because she was doing a personal favor for the red wolf’s mate. And then there’s the fact that we’d be obligated to a Tuil Erdannan—a living one—for centuries. Whenever she decides to call in that obligation … it could be bad.”
Reid nodded in understanding. “The Tuil Erdannan you were indebted to for the first karmsyern is deceased and can’t demand any favors.”
“Exactly.” Cian let out a breath. “I wouldn’t ask for your help if things weren’t so dire. Retrieving the karmsyern will be tricky and dangerous, and I know it. I need an iron master to help me, because you have the best odds of surviving. And you are the only one in existence that I know of.”
Reid’s expression went dark. “That’s because the hoch alfar killed my entire family, and most of my clan. They wanted to wipe out any
chance of another iron master among my people.”
“Then let us avenge them.” Cian balled his fist on the table. He saw the rage inside Reid, long nursed and frustrated. Cian had researched the man’s history, and what he’d found had been horrific. “We will find those who stole the karmsyern, take it back, and punish the hoch alfar. They won’t be able to stop a syernghan and a ghandeltraum together.”
For a moment, Cian thought he’d reached Reid, saw the flame of fury that spelled doom for any hoch alfar who got in his way.
Then Reid turned his head and looked at Peigi, who had returned to studying the map, a flush on her face. One lock of dark hair brushed her cheek.
In that instant, Cain saw Reid’s need for vengeance, which must have driven his every waking hour since he’d been exiled, evaporate. This Shifter woman had managed to push out the hate, the burning anger Reid had lived with, or at least damp it down it a long way.
She’d given him something else to live for.
It was beautiful to see—the two had something with each other that was almost tangible—but it was also frustrating for Cian. He sorely needed an iron master, and Reid was the only one around.
“Let me talk to Peigi,” Reid said. He gestured to the window. “All right if we walk in your garden?”
Peigi focused on Cian, her head up, eyes defiant. Again Cian sensed her total protectiveness of Reid, a protectiveness that would knock down buildings for him.
Cian knew she’d try to talk Reid out of it … Or, maybe she wouldn’t. She was no fool and must understand what returning to Faerie meant to Reid. Reid had a chance to help his own people, even if that chance involved a terrible risk.
It had to be Reid’s choice. Cian needed him, but he wasn’t into forcing people to do what he wanted. Not yet anyway.
“Of course.” Cian waved at the garden, lush and green, beyond the windows. “Take all the time you need.”
* * *
Stuart led Peigi from the light-filled library to the courtyard, following Cian’s directions to the garden. Stuart had his hand on her elbow, the warmth of his fingers comforting.
“Hey,” Crispin said as they approached. He scowled, more belligerent even than Michael. Michael seemed resigned, which only meant he was planning something. “If I have to be your prisoner, can I at least not be shackled to a smelly bear? He stinks, and he’s a prick.”
“Like it’s a pleasure being stuck with a traitor,” Michael growled. “I’m busy imagining the ways I’m going to take you apart.”
“See what I mean?” Crispin asked, petulant. “Aren’t there, like, prisoners’ rights or something?”
“You’re in Faerie,” Stuart said to Crispin. “The rules are different. But okay.” He brought up his fist and opened it.
The iron band fell away, but just as both Shifter males relaxed, Stuart rotated his hand, and the band split into two. One wrapped itself around Michael like a metal cocoon.
Crispin started to laugh, but then the second band whipped around him. Crispin’s feet left the floor and he sailed upward to be pinned by the band to the railing on the third-floor balcony, the iron around him fusing to the wrought iron there.
He yelled, feet kicking. Michael bellowed with laughter, then cut off the laughter, satisfyingly worried when Stuart turned his gaze at him.
They needed to learn not to mess with him, Peigi thought as she and Stuart continued down the hall to the garden.
“I forgot how much fun that was,” Stuart said as he opened the door. “Miss it.”
Peigi hid the pang in her heart. “Did you stick people to walls much when you lived here?”
“When I had to. But it’s been a long time since I could manipulate iron. It’s a feeling that …” He flexed his fingers, sinews on his arms working. “It’s hard to explain.”
“Like shifting.” Peigi followed him out into a lush and fresh-smelling garden. “It completes something inside me.”
“Exactly.”
“In the human world you can teleport. Does that feel the same?”
“Sort of, but it’s weird. Like I’m being pulled apart and stuck back together. Unnerving. Making iron do what I want …” Stuart broke off and took a deep breath. “It’s powerful.”
Peigi didn’t answer. Asking him to give up his natural ability would be like someone telling her to cease shifting. She tucked that away in her head for the argument she knew would come.
The garden was small, as it was tucked inside a walled space, hemmed in by other buildings, but beautiful.
The walls were covered in greenery and vines that burst into blue, red, or yellow flowers. Peigi didn’t know enough about plants to tell if they were roses or what, but they were big blossoms with a multitude of petals.
Brick walks flowed under trees and around hedges, and flowerbeds filled with blooms provided a carpet of color. While the air was cool, it did not have an icy bite. That plus the abundance of flowers made Peigi speculate it was spring or early summer, at least in this part of the Fae world.
Stuart didn’t speak as they wandered the paths. The only sound came from birds enjoying the oasis in the city and the pattering of fountains in corners.
“This isn’t the terrifying Fae dominion I was raised to fear,” Peigi said after the silence had stretched. “It’s kind of nice.”
“There are terrifying parts,” Reid answered. “Mostly in the lands of the hoch alfar. The dokk alfar are far more civilized. We lived in happy peace—mostly—until the hoch alfar decided our lands would suit them. They’d have killed us off if we hadn’t protected ourselves. Not because dokk alfar are weaker, but we were taken off guard, not prepared to fight.” He sighed. “And we might have to again.”
“Unless you can help them find this karmsyern thing.”
“If I can. There’s nothing to say the hoch alfar haven’t already destroyed it. Or if they can’t, they might have taken it far, far away. To the human world, maybe. They’d get rid of something iron and spelled as fast as they could.”
“It kept them from dokk alfar lands, right?” Peigi asked, trying to understand. “I know you and Cian were saying they sent Shifters to steal it, but how are the Fae able to even be around it?”
“Good question. They must have not only sent minions to grab it, but minions to hide it or get rid of it.”
Peigi laughed. “Minions.”
Stuart shared her amusement. “That’s what hoch alfar call them—actually, they call anyone who isn’t hoch alfar that. We call hoch alfar dickheads.”
“When you’re being polite.”
“Exactly.”
Peigi moved closer to him. “Did you bring me out to explain you’re going to stay with Cian?”
“No.” He looked at her. “I came to explain that I don’t know what to do. Going after the karmsyern will be a hopeless quest.”
“Cian doesn’t seem to think so.”
“Because Cian is a powerful man. If Dimitri isn’t exaggerating, he’s a crazy warrior too. According to Dimitri Cian was imprisoned, beaten, tortured, and ordered to fight Dimitri to the death, and still he got up and kicked ass. Cian must not understand why I haven’t grabbed some armor and headed out the door to beat up the hoch alfar and bring the karmsyern home under my arm.”
Peigi let her voice go soft. “So why haven’t you?”
“Because.”
Stuart faced her and took her hands. His were hard, scarred from his life of fighting, both here and in the human world.
She wanted him to say, Because I’ve found you. Because nothing would ever take me away from you.
And she’d be totally selfish. Stuart had done so much for her, and she could not let him throw away all he believed in, all he loved, to remain in the little house in Shiftertown, working for whatever salary Diego paid him. In the lands of the Fae, he was a leader, a man of strength and honor. The hoch alfar had taken that away from him, but maybe Peigi could help give it back.
She’d tried once before, years ago, when
he’d wanted to work the spell so he could return to Faerie. Even then he’d done his best to stop her …
A movement caught her eye, and Peigi stilled, words catching in her throat.
An old tree completed the line that followed this path, a stumpy tree with rough bark and a few shoots of leaves. The movement had been wind in the larger trees that made branches sway, but none of the smaller tree’s twigs had so much as budged.
Peigi released Stuart so fast he blinked at her in surprise. Then she was walking away from him, striding faster and faster down the path toward the stumpy tree, which abruptly turned and tried to run.
Chapter Fourteen
Reid stared in open-mouthed shock at the small, squat tree scurrying across the lawn with Peigi chasing it.
For something that solid, it could move fast. Peigi tossed away her shirt and unzipped her jeans, letting clothes and shoes fall away as she morphed into bear.
It took her a moment to shift, and the tree gained ground, but then Peigi came down on all fours and took off after it.
The fleeing tree didn’t have a chance. Reid jogged down the path toward them, gathering up her clothes as he went, and watched her tackle it.
His girlfriend, in bear form, was taking down a running tree. If anyone from his past had told him this would happen, Reid would have laughed and said the speaker must be smoking something good.
Reid hit the grass and ran to where Peigi was sinking her teeth into a branch, just as the tree shrank down and became Ben, complete with the man’s tatts, clothes, and battered sneakers.
“Shit,” Ben yelled. “Peigi, quit! It’s me!”
Peigi lifted her mouth away and shifted to her between beast, growing larger, fiercer, angrier. “I know it’s you. Why is it you? What are you doing here, and why did you run?”
Ben coughed, pushing at Peigi’s strong, furry body. “Which question did you want answered first?”
“How did you get here?” Reid put in.
Iron Master: Shifters Unbound, Book 12 Page 13