A general murmur went through the small crowd. It sounded agreeable enough to Len’s ear, and he relaxed a bit.
Nezri’s gaze fell on Albigard. “We have maintained spies in the city for some time. The Court is not unaware of the nature of the threat to our world, but they have chosen to do nothing in response to the oncoming catastrophe. Nothing constructive, at least.”
Arms crossed over his chest, Danon was leaning against a jutting stalagmite. Or stalactite? Whichever one grew out of the floor, anyway. Len could never remember.
“That leaves us to deal with it,” he said. “The Forsaken have more of a connection with Mother Dhuinne than the Seelie or Unseelie ever had. We can see what’s happening to our realm.”
“See it, yes,” Albigard said weakly. “But do you have a plan to fix it?”
“We do,” Nezri replied. “We intend to draw the Hunt to Chaima.”
Albigard blinked. His mouth opened as though to say something, but no words came out.
When no one expanded on the statement, Len figured he might as well ask. So he did, raising a finger like someone requesting the floor in a business meeting. “Excuse me. Clueless human here. Who or what is Chaima?”
“The world tree,” Albigard said, regaining the power of speech. “A metaphor describing Dhuinne’s system of magic.”
“Metaphor?” Nezri’s eyes narrowed in disdain. “Unseelie fool. Chaima is no story told to children to help them sleep at night. It is the beating heart of our realm.”
Seated on his borrowed cot with his arms wrapped around his knees, Albigard still looked like a stiff breeze would blow him over. He didn’t back down, though.
“Indeed? Then pray tell me where in the realm this beating heart might be found. Dhuinne is not so vast that it hasn’t been thoroughly mapped. Yet I cannot recall any maps showing a massive tree at the center. At least, none that don’t also have ‘Here Be Dragons’ inscribed around the edges.”
Len wasn’t sure whether the return of Albigard’s waspishness was something to feel relieved about or not. Judging by Nezri’s expression, it was a good thing he’d extracted that promise about not hurting them just because they offended someone in the camp. She wasn’t the only one looking scandalized, either.
It was Danon who took up the defense. “The world tree exists,” he said. “It’s protected, though. Only the sidhe can penetrate Dhuinne’s magic and approach it directly.”
That was enough to shut Albigard up, so Len gathered there must be something to Danon’s words. He remembered all the times the cat-sidhe had brushed aside protective spells that were supposed to make something invisible.
I told you, youngling—your wards are nothing to me.
“Okay,” Len said slowly. “So we lure the Wild Hunt to this tree somehow. Then what happens, exactly?”
Nezri’s sharp gaze fell on him. “The branches and leaves of Chaima represent Dhuinne’s life magic—the magic of the Seelie. The trunk represents neutral magic—the magic of the sidhe. The roots are elemental magic. Destructive magic, breaking down soil and water to feed everything above. Unseelie magic.”
Len set aside the rational part of his mind that wanted to pick holes in the concept, since he was sitting in a cave in an alternate dimension, surrounded by literal faeries. Instead, he went with it, talking out the concept even as he let it sink into his brain.
“So... right now the leaves and branches are growing out of control, while the roots are sick?” he hazarded. “Too much life magic, not enough elemental magic?”
Nezri gave him an approving nod. “Exactly. Congratulations, human. You have grasped a concept that seems to be utterly beyond the mental capacity of Dhuinne’s rulers.”
Something about the idea tickled the edges of Len’s awareness, but when he tried to focus on it, it slipped away.
“Again, though,” he said. “If you lure the Hunt to this magic tree, how does that help?”
A white-haired woman with deep wrinkles carving her face spoke up. “The Wild Hunt and Chaima’s roots are both forces of destructive magic. If the Hunt can be drawn into the caverns below the tree, it’s possible it will become trapped by the roots and be reabsorbed into Dhuinne’s heart, rebalancing what has become unbalanced.”
Len tried to wrap his brain around that. “You think the tree will suck up the Hunt’s destructive power like fertilizer, and send it up to the leaves and branches to even out the life magic that’s been growing out of control?”
“Something like that,” Nezri said, like a teacher congratulating a young child who’d very nearly succeeded in grasping an advanced concept.
Len looked to Albigard. “Could that work?”
Albigard opened his mouth... and closed it again. A look of faint bewilderment slid across his pale, finely sculpted features.
“If... one accepts the underlying premise of the world tree’s physical existence, it is not outside the bounds of possibility,” he said after a long pause.
Again, something niggled at the back of Len’s mind. “Can I ask—did this imbalance in Dhuinne start before or after the Hunt went feral?”
He was fairly sure he already knew the answer, but Danon confirmed it. “Before. But if the Hunt is growing larger and stronger, its darkness may be enough to balance things out, once it’s been absorbed by Chaima.”
Again, Len had the sense of something important hovering just out of his mental reach. He refocused on the here and now, figuring it would come to him eventually... if it was going to come to him at all.
“Right,” he said. “And you’re hoping to convince the Hunt to come to this underground cavern by using Albigard—”
“As bait. Yes,” Nezri finished for him, not sugar-coating it. “And as he has already acknowledged, it is very likely that he will die during the attempt.”
If people kept randomly dumping Albigard’s approaching death at Len’s feet enough times, would the idea eventually stop making his stomach twist and cramp?
For his part, Albigard seemed utterly fatalistic when it came to the danger. “Very well. In the absence of proof, I remain skeptical of the existence of Chaima as a real place. However, if one makes that logical leap, the underlying theory has some merit. In which case, the question becomes one of finding a sidhe to act as a guide for us. The cu-sidhe—”
“Won’t help,” Danon said with finality. “They’ve spent too long as the Court’s lapdogs.”
“We need the cat-sidhe,” Len said, thinking of the diminutive Fae who’d helped them so many times already.
“Yes,” Nezri agreed. “There is, however, a problem.”
When isn’t there? Len thought.
“What problem is that?” he asked, resigned.
Nezri’s lips twisted in anger. “The cat-sidhe has been captured,” she said. “They are being held prisoner in a secret location, by Oren of the Unseelie and those loyal to him.”
Albigard eyes slid closed, his chin dipping to his chest as the words hit home.
FIVE
LEN GROANED. “Please tell me you’re joking.”
Nezri stared at him. “It is hardly a joking matter. Respect for the sidhe is another aspect of the delicate balance of Dhuinne. In past times, the Court would never have dared to lay hands on a sidhe.”
“My father no longer counts his primary allegiance to the Court,” Albigard said. “Nor to Dhuinne.”
“Not even the Unseelie Court?” Danon asked, still propping up the jutting rock with his hip.
But Albigard shook his head. “I think not. He has allies, as you say, but he no longer speaks for the Unseelie. He was complicit in the recent attempt to abandon this realm and move the Fae Court to Earth. Indeed, it would not surprise me if he were the plan’s mastermind.”
Nezri crossed her arms, mirroring Danon. “That is a serious accusation.”
“It is a serious matter,” Albigard retorted.
She tilted her chin, acknowledging the words. “Whatever the case, we must stage a rescue before
the Court has a chance to regroup... and before the Hunt tracks you here.”
“Do you know where the cat-sidhe is being held?” Len asked, since that seemed like kind of an important question.
“No, but we don’t need to,” Danon said. “You’ve had contact with the sidhe recently. Their etheric fingerprints are all over that one.” He gestured at Albigard.
“They offered their power to bolster my own so I could escape capture on Earth,” Albigard said, sounding faintly ill. “No doubt that act of generosity was the only reason the guards were able to capture them.”
“Probably,” Danon agreed. “At any rate, with enough magical power, Nez and I can follow that trail straight to them.”
“You are twins,” Albigard said, not making it a question.
“Yes,” Nezri confirmed. “We were acquainted with your sister and brother when we were younger. In the end, we had no desire to follow in their footsteps... so we left.”
“You were wise to do so.” The words were a whisper.
Albigard’s siblings had been two more victims in the seemingly endless sea of casualties caused by the war between the Fae and the Demons. Worse, they’d been used as weapons, their formidable abilities burned out to commit genocide against an entire race. Len put a hand on Albigard’s arm as a gesture of support, or... something.
“The practical upshot is this,” Danon said. “When we act together, Nez and I can channel neutral magic, as well as elemental and life magic. Now that we have a way to track the cat-sidhe, it won’t matter what wards Oren and his cronies have placed around them. We can portal in, grab them, and portal out before the guards can mount much of a defense.”
“How will you source the raw power to trace their location?” Albigard asked.
“We will have to draw from the other members of the camp,” Nezri replied. “Those who agree to it, obviously.”
Again, voices murmured around the fire.
Albigard’s bloodshot gaze scraped over the ragtag group, assessing. “That may power your travel through wards to the cat-sidhe’s location, but not with much to spare for any battle that might ensue afterward.”
Danon started to reply, only to hesitate. Len took that to mean Albigard was right. He wavered for a moment, trying to think through possible scenarios, and spoke up before he could lose his nerve.
“I absorbed the, uh... the animus of the two guards who died when you got us out of the Dead Forest,” he said. “It’s not pleasant, but in an emergency Albigard was able to use power from my necromancy to fuel a portal between realms. He was sick afterward, though.”
Albigard inhaled sharply, and Len turned to him, still gripping his arm.
“Don’t get me wrong,” Len told him. “I’m not happy about leaving you here alone, with no defense against the Hunt if it shows up. But... this sounds like an in-and-out operation. Smash and grab, and come right back here afterward, yeah?”
Albigard’s eyes bored into him. “And will you accept a gift from one of them? Become their vassal so they may draw from you?”
Len quailed internally at the idea, but shoved aside his discomfort. “You’re assuming I’m going to be alive long enough that I’ll have a chance to regret it. If it’s the price of getting one step closer to stopping the Hunt, do you really want me to say no?”
He was peripherally aware of the camp watching the exchange with interest. Meanwhile, Albigard looked like a man trying to come up with a rational argument and failing. Nezri spoke before he could formulate a response.
“That may not be necessary, human,” she said. “We would have to test it—but if we combine our powers into neutral magic and you give us permission to draw from you, we may not need a gift or a bond.”
Len remembered the battle in St. Louis... how the cat-sidhe had been able to draw from the Unseelie envoys. “So you could draw from me like a sidhe does, with no strings attached?”
Danon’s brow furrowed. “Strings?”
“With no permanent bond in place,” Albigard clarified.
“Perhaps,” Nezri said.
Len released his hold on Albigard’s arm and climbed to his feet. “Can we try it?”
“A small amount only,” Albigard insisted.
“Are you worried about me, or about them?” Len asked.
“Yes,” Albigard replied.
Which... okay.
Len cleared his throat. “Um, I should probably clarify that when I said it made Albigard sick when he used it, we’re talking about ‘vomiting up gouts of black bile and then nearly passing out’ levels of sick.”
Albigard shot him a look. “Thank you,” he said peevishly.
Len shrugged. “It’s the truth.”
“We will test... cautiously,” Nezri allowed.
“Right.” Len shook out his arms, not sure exactly what to expect. “I just need to give you permission to draw power from me?”
Nezri and Danon exchanged a look.
“Permission for the purpose of...” Albigard interjected pointedly, still looking less than pleased by the whole thing.
Abruptly, Len remembered that he was making a deal with Fae—even if they were, like, hippy Fae. “Er, that is... I give you permission to draw power from me for the purpose of this test... and... if the test works, for the purpose of finding the cat sidhe, retrieving them, and getting back here safely. After which, I rescind that permission and would require it to be renegotiated if it became necessary again in the future.”
Jesus. It was like the most convoluted kink negotiation Len had ever conducted before a bondage scene, and then some.
“We agree to your restrictions,” Nezri replied. “We will test the concept now.”
He watched nervously as the twins locked eyes once more. This time, the feeling of power growing and expanding between them was palpable, like a sudden pressure change in the air. After several interminable seconds of this, Len felt the sensation of an invisible hand reaching into his chest and tugging.
It wasn’t a hard wrench, not like the time Albigard had pulled power from him to escape the pocket realm. By contrast, this was barely enough pressure to make him sway forward on his feet before righting himself.
Nezri’s face twisted in distaste, and the sense of something being pulled from him disappeared abruptly. Len’s ears popped.
“Yes, that is intensely unpleasant,” she said.
“You’re not wrong,” Danon agreed. “It’s still power, though. Better to have it if we need it than to not have it and die.”
Len worked his jaw from side to side, trying to equalize the pressure inside his skull.
“I guess since the guards are already dead, they might as well be useful,” he managed, still deeply uncomfortable with the idea of using the deceased as batteries.
Albigard looked up at him. “I don’t like this,” he said, the straightforward declaration taking Len by surprise.
He inhaled, choosing his words carefully. “Well, like I said—I’m not too thrilled about leaving you here defenseless, either. But we can’t move forward with the rest of the plan until we get the cat-sidhe back. If my going along with them increases the odds of success, I think we need to do it.”
The Fae gave a small, resigned nod. “I won’t argue the fact that it’s the best path to success. I merely state that I do not like it.”
The mushy, emotional feeling flooding Len’s chest wasn’t super-useful under the current circumstances, but even so, he couldn’t seem to stem it. “We’ll be quick. In and out, then right back here. Just try not to get your soul eaten before then, okay?”
“It would hardly help matters if I allowed myself to be consumed before you return with the sidhe,” Albigard told him.
Len nodded. “Damn straight.” He returned his attention to the twins. “So, are we going right away, or what?”
Danon gestured to a couple of the camp members, who rose and headed deeper into the cave.
“Waiting gains us nothing, and could cost us much if the Hunt
is close,” Nezri said.
The two Fae who’d left returned bearing weapons—swords and daggers in leather sheathes; a brutal looking axe. The twins took the weapons and fastened them to their belts.
“We will still need to draw from the camp to power a portal leading to the cat-sidhe,” Nezri told the assembled crowd. “If we are forced to use the necromancer’s energy, it seems likely the effects will become debilitating shortly afterward. We’ll hold his power in reserve to aid in our escape, should it become necessary.”
Danon raised an eyebrow at Len. “Yes—quite so. Vomiting black bile, you said?”
“Seriously,” Len confirmed. “It was like some next-level Exorcist shit. Zero out of ten, would not recommend to others.”
Albigard shot him another unamused look.
“Enough talking. Let us depart,” Nezri said, double-checking her weapons. “Danon will lead the way. Necromancer, you will come through last. Stay behind me, and as soon as we free the cat-sidhe and open an escape portal, use it. We will follow.”
Albigard’s expression remained stoic, but pale. He had the air of someone who really wanted to raise an objection, but was restraining himself from doing so.
“Hey. Don’t worry, all right? We’ll be back before you know it,” Len told him, and hoped he wasn’t lying.
Danon addressed the camp again. “Everyone who’s willing to do so, please make your power available to us now.” His eyes flicked to Len. “Guess I don’t really have to say this, but there’s no way of knowing what’s likely to be on the other end of this portal.”
“As long as the cat-sidhe’s there,” Len said. “That’s all that matters.”
The Forsaken warrior nodded. He closed his eyes, and Nezri did the same. They turned toward an empty part of the cave, and the sense of power growing in the air pushed at Len’s eardrums again—far stronger this time. He squared his shoulders, meeting Albigard’s green eyes for a final quick glance as a swirling vortex formed in front of the twins. The center darkened, becoming murky. Half-seen images flitted across the space, shifting and changing like blowing sand. A forest. A river. A field of grass. A massive ruin, like an ancient church left to fall into decay as it was absorbed back into nature.
Forsaken Fae: The Complete Series, Books 1-3 (Last Vampire World) Page 39