by Sarah Beth
Time drifted before it stopped moving all together. They could have been standing there for a hundred years. Vines could have been growing around them, rooting them into place, and they wouldn’t have cared. All that mattered was their energies mingling together and becoming one.
There was something bugging her, a bright little firefly by her shoulder, buzzing in her ear. She tried to ignore it, swat it away with her own energy, but it wouldn’t leave. Was it saying her name? With a groan, Abby pulled back into herself enough to listen closer. It was saying her name, and the voice belonged to someone she knew. With more energy that it should have taken, she released her magic and let Wesley’s consciousness drop away.
Soryn stood beside them, a slightly irritated and frantic look on his face. His hands were on his hips, right beside his sword and scabbard. But it was what was in his hand that made Abby focus on reality again. It was a piece of fabric.
She and Wesley broke apart abruptly, putting a few paces between them.
Soryn sighed, his arms falling to his sides. “Finally, I’ve been standing here for at least five minutes. You shouldn’t be doing that out in the open like that, it’s not safe.”
Waving off his words, Abby pointed to what he held in his hand. “Yeah, we’ll remember that. What are you holding?”
His lips pulled down in the corners, and his eyebrows pulled together. “While you two were in with the Council, one of Lady Neidre’s servants came to fetch me.” He held out his hand and presented the piece of fabric, as well as a piece of parchment with a note on it. Abby took it with shaking fingers.
Wesley was back at her side, studying the note in her hands. His fingers brushed against the fabric. “How...how is this here? I thought we didn’t have the time to fetch it.”
This time, a small smirk pulled at the Faye’s lips. “We didn’t, or at least we didn’t think we did. But I guess we forgot how fast a werewolf can run.”
Wesley’s head snapped up, and her own did likewise. Her hands started shaking again, but for a very different reason. “Someone ran this here? Where are they? Who is it? Are they okay?” She couldn’t get her thoughts out fast enough, her tongue nearly tripping over itself. Her own excitement and worry was mingling with Wesley’s, making them grow tenfold.
Soryn raised his hands in surrender, his smile softening. “Easy...He’s fine, exhausted and probably fast asleep by now, but fine.” He paused, and Abby wanted to grip his impeccably neat tunic and shake the whole story out of him. Or maybe that was Wesley still coming through. With another smile, Soryn looked from Abby to Wesley. “He said his name is Kyle, he is one of your pack-brothers, yes?”
Relief and worry filled Abby’s senses. She knew it was taking every ounce of willpower that Wesley had not to run to his brother’s side. She took his hand and squeezed.
Nodding, Wesley swallowed deeply before speaking. “Yes, he is. He ran all the way here? How did he find the entrance?”
Chuckling, Soryn shook his head. “He didn’t, but he found the lake where the portal is hidden. He ran around the area howling until one of our guards went to him. He was taken directly to Elazar’s home.”
Abby gripped the fabric tightly in her hand, could hear the parchment crinkle. “And he was okay?”
Shrugging one shoulder, Soryn raised an eyebrow. “Would you be? If you had just run twenty-some miles through the snow-covered mountains in less than four hours?” Another shrug. “He looked a little worse for wear, but nothing to be concerned about. We gave him food and a bed to sleep in. I told him you both would go to him as soon as you could.”
Kyle, sweet and powerful Kyle, had ran through the mountains in the middle of the night, all by himself, to deliver a message and a piece of torn fabric. Why would he do that? They still had no idea how to prove where the fabric came from — it was just a useless piece of textile. Glancing down at the light green silk, Abby rubbed it between her fingers. Why would Warren and Kyle think it was important enough to get it to them before they met with the Council?
Taking the now crumbled note into her other hand, Abby smoothed it out. Claire had sent her reasons, Abby had just been too preoccupied to notice. She read the short note twice before handing it to Wesley. Looking back at Soryn, Abby asked, “Do you think it will work? If it doesn’t, if I make that stand in there, I’ll be forfeiting a lot more than the war.”
Soryn’s face grew serious, his lips pulled into a thin line. “I don’t think we have any other choice.”
Sharing a glance with Wesley, their eyes meeting, she knew that Soryn was right. They had to do something. She couldn’t leave the Faye without making the Council aware of the traitor amongst them. A war was coming, and the Faye were already a part of it. Whether the Council wanted to accept it or not.
~~~
Walking back into the courtyard, Abby’s nerves on overdrive, the overall feel of the room differed from when they left it. It didn’t feel hostile, exactly, but it didn’t feel welcoming either. Abby wanted to look behind her, where she knew she would find Soryn standing in the vestibule watching in case she needed him. But she didn’t. She kept her eyes forward and her head held high as she gripped her long blue skirts in her hands so she wouldn’t trip.
Stopping with a dozen feet or so between them and the grand stone seats, Abby glanced to the right at Elazar. His face was just as stone-like as the bench he sat on, giving her no indication of how the debate had gone. But she knew him well enough to know that the thin line of his lips wasn’t a good sign. Turning her gaze on Lord Araevin, she and Wesley bowed their heads.
Lord Araevin stood, his robes of red a stark difference against the sea of light colors. He regarded them for a moment before speaking and saying the words that Abby and Wesley had been fully prepared to hear. “It has been decided that the High Council does not grant you permission to involve the Faye in this so-called war with the vampires. It has also been decided that it would be best if your Ladyship would remain in the safety of the High Forest until such unsavory acts are completed. Your chosen mate may accompany you.”
No wonder Elazar’s lips had been barely visible. Even though they had been expecting the Council to not want to be involved in a vampire uprising, they had still had hope that they would see reason. Frustration boiled in Abby’s veins, not all of it her own, but she clamped down on the emotion. Time for plan B.
Bowing her head deeply, Abby grasped for the piece of cloth in the pocket of her skirts. It felt like dynamite in her palm. “I am sorry the Council feels that way, but of course, we will heed your words.” She paused to find Neidre and Elazar’s faces in the crowd, trying to send them a message through the air. She didn’t think it worked — they weren’t connected to her like Wesley was — but it was worth a try. “If I may first, I have something that may change the Council’s views on the matter.”
Lord Araevin raised a single perfectly shaped brow before inclining his head. Lowering himself back to his seat, he gestured for her to begin.
Taking a steadying deep breath, and reaching out for Wesley with her conscious at the same time, Abby brought the piece of fabric out of her pocket. She moved her gaze over the members of the Council as she spoke, “A member of my Mate’s pack ran through the mountains to bring this to us. I know it looks like a normal piece of fabric but it is undoubtedly Faye made, we have confirmation of that.”
A rough voice from her left interrupted her. “And what does a piece of fabric have to do with a war?”
Turning to look at the source of the voice, Abby couldn’t help but smile just a bit. “Because, Lord, this piece of fabric was found at the scene of a break in — someone attempted to get into Lord Elazar’s home in the mountains.”
Voices erupted in the room, filling the space with outraged energy and vibrations. Looking at Elazar seated quietly amongst his peers, he nodded discreetly at her when their eyes met. Lord Araevin stood, his presence enough to quiet voices down to a low murmur. His expression was decidedly less friendly, but Abby
was fairly certain it wasn’t entirely directed at her. “I hope you realize of the implications of your words, Lady Aerilaya.”
Bowing her head briefly, Abby met his eyes with determination. “I do, Lord Araevin. I wish I was wrong. But if my father’s legacy has taught me anything over the last number of days, it is to stand by what I believe to be right.”
It was a low blow; she knew that. It would be obvious too many in the room by this point that her father had been right, all those years ago. That the vampires were restless, and a war was imminent. No one had listened to him, and now he was gone. She wasn’t going to let his death be for nothing.
While much of the attention in the room was still elsewhere, and with Lord Araevin’s eyes burning holes into her head, Abby held the fabric in front of her on her palm. The words she needed came to her from the surrounding air, the smell of fresh running water clinging to them. In the recesses of her mind, the smiling face of the Lady of the Glade gave her encouragement.
“Cimlya herdir.” For a single heartbeat nothing happened and Abby was terrified that she had said something wrong, but then the cloth lifted from her palm. Silence descended the courtyard as the fabric hovered over the hand before flying through the air, and landing in the lap of Lord Haryk.
Everything after that happened so quickly. Rage erupted in the room like lava from a volcano. Lord Haryk tried to defend himself for a second, but realizing it was futile, tried to run. It’s not easy to run when you’re halfway up a stone bleacher and surrounded by your peers. Wesley gripped her arm tightly, but it wasn’t until Soryn was suddenly at her other side that she looked away from the chaos. She heard the distinct language of the Faye before the air in front of her shimmered, like a veil was being placed over her face.
She turned to Soryn, but he shook his head, his eyes never leaving the scene in front of them. “It’s a shield spell. I wouldn’t put it past Lord Haryk to try to strike you down. And I don’t know who else I trust in this room, either.” Looking at his profile, his angular jaw set firmly, she wondered briefly if he had ever seen war. He was a guard and trained for combat, that she knew, but had he ever fought for his life?
“Abby, look.”
Wesley’s voice brought her attention back to the group of Faye. Lord Araevin was standing before Haryk who was trapped by some magic, his arms bound behind his back. Guards had appeared from nowhere and had their blades and arrows trained at Haryk’s throat. Even through the barrier of Soryn’s magic, Lord Araevin’s booming voice could be heard.
“Elder Haryk, you will be tried for treason and if evidence is found supporting this claim, you will be sentenced to death. Take him away.”
With Wesley by her side, Abby watched the guards lead Haryk away. Just as he was about to be pulled out of view, he looked over his shoulder directly at her. The look in his eyes wouldn’t be something she would forget easily.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Wesley
He was sitting in Elazar’s living room, watching Kyle from over the roaring fire and trying to believe that his brother was really there. It had been a couple of weeks since he had seen him and to have him in The High Forest, in Elazar’s home, seemed impossible. And yet there he sat, smiling at Abby as they talked.
He looked a little worse for wear. There were a few lines on his face, around his eyes, that hadn’t been there the last time Wesley had seen him. And there was a new scar on his forehead, still healing. It must have been a bad wound if his werewolf blood was still working on closing it. Wesley wanted to ask about it, wanted to ask so many questions, but he didn’t want to break the happy reunion yet. They would have to leave their peaceful bubble soon enough.
Abby’s laughter brought his attention back to the conversation across from him. Kyle was chuckling under his breath too, but he was too busy eating the bread and cheese that a servant had brought them to really laugh. He had been eating almost none stop since he woke up an hour ago — he had to replace the calories he lost running through the mountains.
“I can’t wait to see them. As amazing as being here has been, I miss the mountains.” Abby had a small smile on her lips when she looked over at him, the fire reflecting in her eyes.
Wesley assumed he missed a funny story about the pack. He could ask Abby about it later. Instead, he returned her smile and nodded at Kyle. “As long as he doesn’t eat so much he can’t walk.”
Finishing the food in his mouth, Wesley watched Kyle swallow before rolling his eyes. “Very funny, Wes. I haven’t eaten that much.”
Inclining his head towards the silver platter, already half gone, Wesley raised a brow. “That’s the second one in an hour.”
Instead of responding, Kyle took another piece of bread and stuffed it into his mouth. But he had a hard time chewing due to the smile that crept its way onto his face.
Wesley had missed this, the easy friendship that he had with Kyle, and the growing one he could see between his Mate and his brother. He had been so preoccupied with everything — and being in the Forest didn’t help, either. He hadn’t realized how deeply he had been missing his family. In that moment, he wished harder than he had in years to see Alex. He wasn’t a child anymore but there was something about his father near that made him feel safe, even as an adult. He really could use some of that calm.
The door came flying open, and Wesley had a moment to wonder if it was Soryn. The young Faye had left them they all had been dismissed. But one look towards the door and Wesley’s mind fell quiet. It was Neirdre, and one look at her face had Wesley’s stomach dropping like a stone. He didn’t need to hear the words she spoke to know what had happened. Haryk had escaped.
Abby
It was an hour of waiting and pacing the length of Elazar’s sitting room before Elazar finally returned, Soryn right on his heels. Abby wanted to jump down their throats with the amount of questions she had, but she glued her lips shut until the two men had come further into the room. Elazar sat down on the couch opposite her with a heavy sigh, the crease between his brows overly pronounced. Soryn remained standing, but even with a few feet separating them, Abby could feel his frustration and anger as it permeated the air of the room.
Elazar’s voice was grave when he spoke. “We searched the entire Forest, there’s no sign of Haryk. He must have had help to get outside of the barrier.”
Bodies slumped, the tension and energy seeming to leave everyone at the same moment. It wasn’t the news any of them had wanted to hear, but it had been the news that Abby had been expecting. Just thinking of apprehending Haryk before he escaped the Forest had seemed too good to be true.
Abby glanced at Wesley beside her, who’s eyes were looking off to the side and his brows were pulled tight. Kyle stood near the large circular window, his arms crossed and tension obvious in the set of his jaw. All Abby wanted to do was take it all away from her friends. As much as she didn’t feel ready to win a war, seeing the effects of the brewing pot on her friends was beginning to break her. Her voice was soft as she spoke, but she looked to the comforting face of Neidre as she did so. The woman sat close to the fire; the flames making her ebony skin gleam. “I think it’s time that we went home.”
The couch shifted beside her, but no one else in the room seemed to even breathe. But then Elazar sighed, running a hand down his face. “Yes, Abby, I believe that it is.” He paused, looking at her through the flames of the pit, “I have so much else to teach you, but now is not the time. If Haryk has gone back to his allies, our time of peace has come to an end.”
Soryn moved closer to the couch where Abby sat, and Wesley laid a hand on her silk covered knee. Kyle moved towards them, his head held high and shoulders back. He looked like a soldier in a young man’s mask. From what little Abby knew of Kyle’s past before he was turned, a fighter was exactly what he was.
“Even if we left in the morning, it’s still going to take us a few days to get back to the pack. There’s no telling what Haryk could do in that time.” Wesley’s voice soun
ded discouraged, but Abby knew that he was just feeling as tired as she was. The thought of trekking through the mountains didn’t sound fun to her either.
Neidre smiled briefly at Wesley before shaking her head. “Don’t you worry about the journey, the Elders will take care of that. But I suggest you go and gather your things. I believe it would be best to send you all on your way tonight, when Haryk would least expect it.”
Elazar made a noise in the back of his throat, nodding in agreement. “I agree with Neidre, you will be safest with your pack, where Haryk will not be able to find you.” He leveled a pointed look at her, his eyes boring into her soul, “Never take that necklace off, do you hear me, child? Whatever your father did to it, it will protect you as best it can. Haryk shouldn’t be able to find you or your Mate so long as you wear it.”
Holding the stones in her hand, feeling their warmth and power pulse under her skin, Abby nodded. She didn’t plan to ever let it leave her sight, let alone take it off.
Elazar regarded her for a moment longer before nodding his head once. He then turned his attention to Soryn. “There should be a bag ready for you in your rooms, clothing and anything else you may need has been prepared for you.” He paused and Abby could see the emotions behind his eyes she knew he wouldn’t voice. “Remember your training, nephew, and everything I’ve taught you. You have a most important mission on your shoulders.”
Not wanting to appear to be poking her nose where it didn’t belong, Abby didn’t feed her curiosity and ask what the heck they were talking about. But Soryn’s voice was deeper than usual when he spoke, making her worry even more. “I understand, Uncle. I won’t forget my responsibility.”