by Jayne Faith
I peered up at him. “Why do you care so much about this? You’re only a quarterling.”
His jaw flexed.
“Ray? Are you more than a quarter Fae?”
“I never said I was a quarterling.” His words came reluctantly.
I shook my head. I could have sworn he’d said he was a quarter Fae, but he had to be right. He couldn’t have told me he was a quarterling if he wasn’t. I must have just assumed, and he’d allowed me to.
“How much Fae blood do you have?” I asked. I sheathed my knife.
“I’m three-quarters Elf.”
“He’s waking up,” Judah called from the next room.
I lifted my arm, the one that wasn’t holding Balisarde, out to the side. “Why let people think you’re a quarterling when you’re not?” Before he could respond, I waved my hand. “You know what? Don’t answer. We don’t have time.”
I looked over my shoulder.
“Restrain Darren if you have to,” I hollered at Judah. I turned to Ray and began speaking quickly as I edged away. “I can’t let you take this sword. This needs to end, and that means we’re taking the sword to Killian Abernathy. I’ve got to show it to Killian and explain all of this, because I don’t think he realizes that Laine and Eric Gilligan don’t plan to let him take Balisarde to Shaw. Killian probably won’t give the sword to Eric once he knows the truth, so I doubt you have to worry about Balisarde falling into Gilligan hands or whatever. Either way, you need to stay out of this. You crossed me, and I’m pissed about it.
While I’d been talking, I’d reached into my little pouch of magical surprises and found a spell capsule. It was the size of a gumball, with a raised ring around the middle for identification. If thrown against the floor, it would explode in a mist of magic that when inhaled would create temporary confusion and disorientation. I just had to get far enough away from Ray so it wouldn’t affect me.
He knew something was up and started to make a lunge at Balisarde. I swung the big sword around, aiming the tip at Ray’s chest.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” I said.
He froze. “Let me go with you to take the sword to Killian Abernathy. Just to make sure it doesn’t end up with Gilligan. If you let me come, I’ll tell you what Shaw’s people are hunting.”
I blinked and lowered the sword. Ray knew the target?
I licked my dry lips. “Do you, Ray Artois, have personal and accurate knowledge of the thing Grant Shaw’s network is hunting, the thing he doesn’t want me to know about?” I asked carefully. The question might have seemed unnecessarily elaborate and specific to non-Fae, but I had to ask it in a way that best ensured a straight and honest answer.
“I do have personal and accurate knowledge of the thing you so described,” Ray said quietly.
I stared at him for a second, caught between hot anger that he’d kept the information from me and surging hope that I might have a shot at the bounty.
Sounds of struggle were coming from the next room. Ray and I both glanced that way.
“Okay,” I finally said. “You can come with us. But you don’t get to touch the sword.”
He nodded his agreement, and both of us relaxed a little.
But I wasn’t ready to let my guard down completely. I guessed that Ray wanted the sword for himself, or maybe for his clan. He probably also wanted to be able to shove it in Eric Gilligan’s face that the Artois possessed something the Gilligans wanted.
“I shouldn’t have let you pick it up,” Ray said to me, his trademark casual demeanor returning.
“Nope, you probably shouldn’t have,” I agreed.
I went back into the dark living room where Judah had Darren in a standing hold with Darren’s arm wrenched at a painful-looking angle.
“Go ahead out the window,” I said to Blake, who’d crawled into the room.
She pointed at Balisarde. “That’s it. The thing that’s caused all this trouble.”
I nodded.
She pressed her fingers to her mouth and shook her head. “I feel so stupid I didn’t know Laine was involved. I’m going to kill her. Thank you for helping us find the sword. I’m so sorry about all of this.”
I gestured at the window. “Don’t thank me yet. We need to get out of here before anyone else shows up.”
She went and nimbly maneuvered through the window.
“What do you want me to do with him?” Judah asked. Darren appeared to be sobering up more and more by the second, and he was starting to holler at us about the sword. He clearly wasn’t going to just let us take off with it.
I briefly considered having Judah knock out Darren, but considering the amount of alcohol he’d apparently consumed, it wouldn’t be right to knock him over the head and then leave him.
“Leave it to me,” Ray said to Judah. “When he starts to go limp, you can let him go.”
My brows shot up as Ray began to chant under his breath. For a brief moment, I thought he was crafting some Elvish magic, but he was speaking Druidic. I didn’t have time to try to work out how a mostly-Elf had ended up with Druid magic. I didn’t even know anyone but full human men could become Druids. Ray Artois was full of surprises, it seemed.
I couldn’t see the magic, but I felt a tingling itch in the air, as if it were charged with electricity. After about half a minute of chanting, Darren’s eyelids began to flutter, and when Judah loosened his hold, Darren sagged as if every muscle in his body was slackening. He protested weakly, but I couldn’t even make out his words.
“Go on out,” I said to Judah, my eyes still on Darren.
Darren had tipped over onto his side, and his head hit the floor with a soft plunk. He was out. Judah quickly eased himself out through the window.
Ray stopped chanting, but he sucked wind as if he’d just sprinted up a flight of stairs.
“After you.” He gave a flourish of his hand. A sheen of sweat coated his forehead.
With a baffled shake of my head—I still couldn’t get over Ray Artois using Druid magic—I carefully maneuvered through the window with Balisarde in my hand.
Once I was on the ground outside, Blake resumed her profuse apologies.
“If you really didn’t know, then you’re innocent in all of this,” I said to her. “But your sister obviously needs some straightening out.”
“Yeah, tell me about it,” she said grimly.
Ray had made it through the window, landing on the ground. He leaned a hand against the house, obviously still spent from the chanting.
“You’re a Gilligan,” he said accusingly to Blake.
She shook her head. “Only by marriage. I don’t have a drop of Fae blood. It’s a different branch of the family tree, one where Fae blood came in by marriage a couple of generations ago. I’m not actually a Gilligan.”
A light came on in the house next door, and my pulse thumped in alarm. We’d drawn the attention of the neighbors. Time to go.
“Run,” I whispered harshly and then led the way past the apple tree, over the fence, and down the alley.
With the others chasing behind me, I sprinted off, taking a weaving route away from Darren’s house to the lane that led out of Aerwyn township. Before every turn, I looked back to see if we were being followed. Darren had been unconscious when we fled, but I was still paranoid. Ray’s unexpected arrival had shaken me more than I wanted to admit. There could be others who wanted Balisarde, and it made me jumpy to be carrying the sword.
When we neared the border of the township, I slowed to a walk. There was a bit of foot traffic going in and out, and I didn’t want our mad dash to draw attention.
The four of us spent the next few minutes catching our breath. I kept Balisarde down along my leg, trying to make the weapon as inconspicuous as possible. But it was a large broadsword, and even if it were a generic blade of no interest to anyone, it wouldn’t do for me to stroll through Faerie with it drawn. A drawn weapon always attracted attention.
Once we’d exited Aerwyn, I led the other
s along the low wall that bordered the township so we’d be away from the main road and the prying eyes there.
I lifted the sword. “We can’t carry this thing around like this while we look for Killian Abernathy. In Faerie, we draw weapons only if we intend to use them. Plus, someone might recognize it.” I raised my brows at Ray. “How about some Druidic obfuscation magic?”
He was still breathing hard, his hands on his hips and moonlight glinting off his sweat-slicked face. With a hard swallow, he shook his head.
“I’m spent for a while,” he said.
Blake was openly staring at him. “You’re a Druid?”
A few beats of silence passed while Ray seemed to consider how to answer.
“It’s complicated,” he finally said.
“What if I put it through the straps of my gun holster on my back?” Judah suggested. He opened one side of his jacket, showing a shoulder holster and handgun. My brows inched up. I’d had no idea he was carrying, but for his line of work, it made sense. “It’ll look like I’m using a back scabbard.”
“That could work,” I said. I lifted the sword so I could examine the hilt, which was ornately designed and encrusted with sparkling jewels. “But the most recognizable part of it will still be showing.”
“Could we stash it somewhere while we find Killian Abernathy?” Blake asked.
Ray and I exchanged a look. “No,” we said at the same time.
Neither of us wanted to let it out of our sight.
Something occurred to me. I reached my free hand into the pouch on my belt and pulled out the crescent-shaped charm I carried. It sent a flutter through my hand like the wings of a tiny bird, singing its silent song of magic to me.
“Would a magic-boosting charm help you summon enough strength to disguise the handle?” I asked Ray.
His eyes gleamed with interest at the small mirror I held. “It’s worth a try.”
I passed the charm to him.
While Ray began chanting, I helped Judah reposition his gun holster and wedge Balisarde into it, so it appeared he wore the sword as he’d suggested. I didn’t like that the blade lay across his back with only his t-shirt protecting him. I turned him around to see how it looked from the front.
I reached up to adjust the collar of his jacket.
“You need to be extremely careful so you don’t slice your back open,” I said, my brow furrowed. “I’m serious. Don’t even twist around. And for goddess’s sake, don’t sit down. One slouch and you could plane off some spine.”
He quirked a little half-smile. Suddenly I realized it was almost as if we were in a partial embrace, with my hands at his neck.
My pulse sped.
“I’ll be careful,” he whispered.
My hands stilled at his nearness, and I just stood there looking up at him while I tried to decipher what the small grin and spark in his eyes meant.
He lowered his chin, which aligned our mouths so that it would have taken only a slight shift for our lips to meet.
“Thank you, Rainbow.”
I started to protest his use of the old nickname, but my breath seemed to snag in my vocal chords. Clearing my throat, I dropped my hands and stepped back.
Feeling oddly off-balance, I turned to Ray.
He was facing Judah and still chanting. Druidic magic was powerful, but the chants took time. I took a few steps back to give him space to do his work.
Blake edged over to my side. “You and Judah have . . . history,” she said, loading the word with significance.
I glanced at her. “What? No. I mean, yeah, we were friends when we were kids. That’s it.”
She made a dissenting noise at the back of her throat and gave her head a little shake. “It’s more than that. From the way he talked about you, I always suspected it, but now seeing him with you, I’m pretty sure.”
“No,” I protested, skirting a look at Judah. “There was never anything between us.”
We were both speaking low enough that Judah and Ray couldn’t hear us, but the conversation was making me twitchy.
“Well, I think now I understand why things fizzled,” she said.
I squinted at her. “What fizzled?”
“Me and Judah.”
A sharp, uncomfortable sensation arrowed through my middle.
“Okay, that should do it,” Ray said, turning to us and saving me from having to respond to Blake.
I strode forward away from Blake, wishing to leave her revelation behind, too. Blake and Judah together? I didn’t particularly want to think about it. I turned my attention to Ray’s work.
He’d managed to change the look of the broadsword’s hilt, which protruded from Judah’s jacket at the back of his head. The handle appeared plain—no curlicues, no jewels. Just utilitarian and boring. Nothing that anyone would look at twice. I squinted, concentrating, trying to see through the spell. I couldn’t.
“Wow,” I said appreciatively. “That’s definitely not Fae glamour.” Good thing. Glamour was a type of obfuscation magic that Fae could use on humans, but any Fae would have been able to see through it. How handy that Ray possessed different magics that could trick either humans or Fae.
“It’s purely Druidic,” Ray said. He ran a hand over his hair, his fingers trembling slightly. Even with the help of the magic amplification charm, the work had obviously drained him.
He extended his hand to pass the reflective crescent moon back to me.
“Where did you get that?” he asked.
“Long story,” I said.
The truth was, I’d stolen it a decade ago. It was lucky I’d had it on me, as I had a long-standing deal with Marty that he could borrow it when he needed it, and he used it frequently. Because I couldn’t wield magic, the charm wasn’t much use to me. When I was a kid, it had amplified the dribble of Fae magic in my blood just enough to allow me to use the Faerie doorways. After that, the time I’d spent in Faerie had matured my blood to the point that I could use doorways without a magic booster. But I’d come to think of the charm as an object of luck, and I was a bit superstitious about keeping it on me whenever I could.
I tipped my head toward the road.
“Okay,” I said. “It’s time to track down Killian Abernathy.”
Chapter 12
I HAD A feeling I was going to regret taking Judah, Ray, and Blake to McStaggers Tavern. It was a pub in the Duergar kingdom where Shaw’s people tended to congregate, and there was a good chance someone there would know where Killian Abernathy was. There was also a good chance that going to McStaggers would result in Shaw catching wind I was in Faerie and up to something he hadn’t approved.
Killian had a hangout spot in the back of a store in a different part of town, but that was too obvious a place for him to have stashed Laine, and I had a feeling he was staying close to her.
About halfway to McStaggers, I found a raven’s loft, a slim tower shaped like a very skinny castle turret that stood about two stories high. The towers were a public service in Faerie, allowing people to write messages and leave them in the drop box, where they were lifted in a conveyor belt of small buckets up to the top of the tower. There, messenger ravens plucked out messages and then delivered them to the addressee.
In the hollowed-out spot in the tower that served as a little desk, I took a notecard and scribbled out a message to Killian, telling him I had Balisarde and was in the Duergar kingdom. I suggested he find me at McStaggers or, if I wasn’t there, step outside of Faerie and call me to let me know where we could meet. I signed the note with my name and cell phone number.
I quickly finished the process by rolling the note into a tight scroll, sealing the edge with a bit of soft wax using my thumb, and addressing it to Killian. The ravens had their own magic that told them how to get the note to the right person.
In an ideal world, the note would reach Killian immediately, saving me from having to try to track him down and thus draw the attention of Shaw’s people. But I didn’t expect things to go ideally,
and I needed to get back to the Earthly side of the hedge.
I wished I could duck out of the whole mess, but I couldn’t just leave Judah and Blake in Faerie.
“Okay,” I said, turning to Ray. “We’ll hope for the best.”
He’d come with me to the raven tower to make sure I didn’t try to do anything that jeopardized our agreement. I didn’t hold it against him. I would have done the same thing if I’d been in his position. We both glanced up at the top of the tower, where there was a steady stream of black birds arriving and then leaving with paper tubes clutched in their claws.
“You know what they say,” he said, his eyes on the ravens. “Hope for the best, plan for the worst.”
Was I in the presence of a fellow cynic? One corner of his mouth twitched in an almost grin.
I gave him a wry look. “Right.”
We went to Blake and Judah, who were deep in conversation. It sounded like they were piecing together how Laine might have gotten knowledge of Balisarde. Even as he gave Blake his attention, Judah’s eyes kept flicking to me.
Ray and I took the lead with Judah and Blake trailing behind us. My shoulder blades twitched with the imagined pressure of Judah’s gaze on my back.
“So,” I said to Ray, ready to focus on something other than Judah’s intense gray eyes floating across the screen of my mind. “How is it that you’re using Druidic magic, yet you’re clearly not an active member of a Druid monastery?”
Druids were basically monks, giving up a regular life and all material possessions to devote themselves to their order, service, and mastering their magic. Though Druids claimed to exist to serve the world, their orders and magic were steeped in mystery, and in some instances, they commanded high prices for their services. In my mind, the PR didn’t quite match up with reality.
Ray slid a look at me, the fringe of his dark-blond hair shifting across his forehead. For a long moment, I thought he might refuse to talk about the topic.
“My uncle is a Druid,” he said finally. “It interested me, so I joined his monastery. Then it didn’t interest me anymore, so I left.”
I burst out laughing. “As far as non-answers go, that one was pretty good. Your uncle on which side?”