Len blinked, not able to come up with a decent argument against that. At least, not beyond ‘You’re probably right, but it still creeps me the hell out.’
“I... guess there’s something to that, yeah,” he acknowledged.
They finished clearing the path, and Leesa dragged Len away for a proper tour of the area of the river basin that the Forsaken had claimed as their own. She rattled off details about the way the protective wards were set up, obviously fascinated by magic and the theory behind it. Most of it meant very little to Len with his prosaic human background, but he could still appreciate her enthusiasm for the subject.
She showed him the smithy where they made their crude iron tools, and the cave where they stored preserved food. They stopped and chatted with other people along the way, most of whom were happy to take a break from their work for a few minutes.
Len wanted to ask them why they’d joined the Forsaken camp—whether they were criminals, or political dissenters, or conscientious objectors, or what. It seemed rude, though, so he didn’t.
As they were heading up a steep trail toward what Leesa insisted was the highlight of the tour, she turned to look at him. “Your friend seems really sad,” she said, out of the blue.
Len nearly tripped over a rock, taken by surprise at the observation. He cleared his throat. “Um, yeah—he’s completely miserable. His father hates him, he’s lost his magic, two of his closest friends are dead, and he’s probably going to die trying to help capture the Wild Hunt. Honestly, I’m surprised he’s coping as well as he is.”
It was a lot to dump on a teenager, but she and the other children had been present during the strategy meeting right along with the rest of the group. Len got the impression that they didn’t coddle their kids here.
She pondered that for a few moments, making her way slowly up the path.
“I think it’s good that he’s got you, so at least he’s not all alone,” she said eventually. And then, “Is it strange being a human?”
That startled a snort from him. “Strange? Why do you ask? Is it strange being a Fae?”
She shot him a sheepish smile. “Sorry, I guess that was a stupid question, huh?”
“Nah,” Len said. “Not really. I’m kind of a strange human, to be honest—even back home. And being a human in Dhuinne is definitely weird.”
Her smile broadened. “How do you get your hair that color? I’ve never seen blue before—only green and brown from plant dyes. It’s pretty.”
“It’s just a different kind of dye,” he told her. “You can get all sorts of different colors on Earth. ’Fraid I don’t know what’s in it, though.”
At that, she gave him an exaggerated frown. “You put dye on your head without knowing what’s in it?”
He chuckled in spite of himself. “Well, in my defense, someone else is supposed to test it first to make sure it’s safe.”
She weighed that.
“And I guess since you’re here trying to lure the Wild Hunt into a trap, it’s pretty far down the list of things that are likely to kill you?” she suggested.
“You’ve got that right,” he said ruefully.
She smiled again, tentative this time. “Well... in case no one else has said it, thanks for doing what you’re doing here.” Her expression sobered. “Things in Dhuinne are getting really messed up. It’s been bad my whole life, but... it’s been getting a lot worse recently. You know?”
It was Len’s turn to be silent for a few steps. “I do. It’s started affecting my world, too. And... I don’t know for sure if my being here will make a difference at all. But since there’s a chance, I have to try, right?”
She nodded. “Yes. I suppose so. But we still appreciate it.”
Len’s throat absolutely did not close up in response to the simple, guileless declaration. He swallowed a couple of times, and said, “Do me a favor? Tell Albigard that same thing when you get a chance. Only... don’t be offended if he gets all prickly about it afterward.”
She nodded. “I will.” With a deep, cleansing breath, she indicated an aperture in the jutting cliff face. “Anyway, here we are. I think this place is why the camp actually decided to settle here originally. I’m not allowed, but you can go in.”
Len gave her a curious look. “Why aren’t you allowed?”
Her nose wrinkled up. “I’m too young.” When that didn’t clear Len’s expression of confusion, she spelled it out for him with all the world-weary wisdom of a teenager. “The adults come here to have sex a lot. Nezri and Aesulna say maybe in a couple of years they’ll let me in.” Her eyes slid to the side.
“But?” Len prompted.
He watched her debate with herself for a moment before making a decision.
“But... I might have sneaked in a few times when no one else was there,” she admitted, quickly adding, “We all do it—it’s not just me. Anyway, you should go see. It’s a hot spring—it comes right out of the heart of the mountain. If your friend’s feeling better tonight, maybe you can bring him here. It’ll help him relax.”
Len blinked, his eyebrows climbing as he tried to decide if that was supposed to be innuendo or not. And... what the hell. Under the circumstances, he figured he might as well ask.
“Was that supposed to be innuendo?”
She shrugged one skinny shoulder. “Not really. It’s nice just to soak, too.” She looked at him speculatively—the expression of someone on the trail of hot gossip. “Why... are you and him lovers? Really?”
Visions of being hauled before the camp elders on charges of corrupting the youth floated through Len’s head, but at least it was a chance to test the waters with someone who didn’t seem overly offended by the topic.
“Would it be a problem if we were?”
This time, the shrug raised both of her shoulders. “It’s just odd, thinking about a human and a Fae together, that’s all. Not my business, though—forget I asked.”
A human and a Fae. Not two men together.
“Well,” he told her, “we’ve already established that I’m an odd human.” He hooked a thumb toward the gap in the stone walls. “It sounds really nice; I’ll go check it out. Thanks for giving me the tour—and for being the nicest Fae I’ve met to date.”
She chuckled. “What... even nicer than your friend?”
“Much,” Len said emphatically, drawing a real laugh from her.
Once she’d headed down the trail, skipping nimbly over the uneven rocks and ducking the jutting branches, Len turned to examine the irregular opening in the cliff face with interest. Humidity choked the air coming from inside. He peered in. The space beyond wasn’t a cave, exactly. Light filtered down through gaps in the stone arches and columns that enclosed the rocky, steaming pools of cloudy water.
Less of an attempt had been made here to beat back the ever-present tropical vines, and the heavy scent of flowers perfumed the air. The topography of the rugged mountainside diverted the water from the hot spring into several pools of varying sizes—those higher up spilling over to fill those further down the slope. A handful of Fae lounged in the pools alone or in pairs—all naked, as far as Len could tell.
Some of them looked up as he passed through the entrance.
“Erm, hi. Am I intruding?” he asked cautiously.
Two of the women had been pressed together intimately when he entered, nuzzling each other’s faces. They turned, and Len recognized the pair that had been butchering the deer earlier.
“Come in, as you like,” said the one who’d been straddling her companion’s lap in the water. “Or don’t. It’s nothing to us, human.”
The words were brusque, but not delivered in anger. The speaker returned to her exploration of her companion’s lips without waiting for an answer.
With that indifferent offer of permission extended, Len walked farther into the fantastical space, picking his way along a path that seemed to have been smoothed by Fae hands, with the rough rocks carved into steps leading to the higher pools. He looked
around with something like awe, taking in the play of light and shadow through the steam... the green and blue and violet of the flowering vines.
It was, in a word, magical—the faerie realm, laid bare beneath the eyes of a human.
He made his way to a vantage point with a flat rock that hadn’t been completely choked by plant life, and sat, taking it all in. Thick moss clung to the stone, cushioning it—the same blue-green as the stuff that had been growing on the floor of the Court building like a carpet. True to the female Fae’s word, none of the others seemed to pay his presence here much mind.
Len stayed and listened to the burble and splash of water against stone, letting the serene surroundings leach some of his cares away, at least for a time. Other members of the camp came and went as the angle of the light filtering into the grotto tilted into deepening shadow. Some of the bathers chatted in low voices, and at one point the sound of female pleasure crested and ebbed.
He let it all wash over him, watching in wonder as little glowing lights flickered into existence one by one in the deepening dark—like fireflies hovering among the green leaves, but bright enough to illuminate the area as the sun went down. The pools themselves also seemed to emit a soft glow, as though lit from within.
Reluctantly, Len rose and picked his way down the path. Though he would have liked to stay longer, he was unwilling to risk the trail leading down the mountain in full darkness. It was also past time to check on things back at the cave.
He was most of the way down when a familiar figure jogged toward him. Leesa slowed when she recognized him. Her grin was a slash of white teeth in the deepening dusk.
“The cat-sidhe is awake! You should go back to the cave. There’s going to be another meeting!” she exclaimed breathlessly, brushing past him to continue up the trail—presumably to inform the bathers of the same thing.
EIGHT
LEN RESISTED THE urge to hurry, not willing to risk a fall and a broken leg on the rocky path. When he finally reached the cave, it was to find most of the camp already assembled. He skirted the edges of the group, looking for Albigard.
It was a testament to how badly Albigard had needed rest that he was still sprawled on his pallet, fast asleep and oblivious to the murmurs of excitement building around him. Len crouched and placed a hand on the Fae’s shoulder. For an instant, he flashed back to the moment in the pocket realm when Albigard had awakened explosively, hurling magic before he was even properly aware of his surroundings.
Hard on the heels of that came the realization that Albigard wouldn’t be hurling magic at Len or anyone else... not ever again.
The Fae blinked awake, disoriented for a moment before his gaze sharpened. “The cat-sidhe?” he asked hoarsely.
“Conscious, apparently,” Len told him. “The camp is gathering.”
Albigard rolled into a sitting position, looking markedly stronger than he had earlier. Len rose, scanning the crowd by firelight until his eyes landed on a familiar pixie-like figure seated on a pile of blankets. The cat-sidhe—now in humanoid form—was deep in conversation with Aesulna, sipping steaming liquid from a cup.
Nezri approached Albigard’s pallet. Her skin was still pale after her adventure with necromancy earlier, and the dark circles under her eyes looked like bruises. “You’re both here. Good. We must discuss our plan with the cat-sidhe, now that they appear to be somewhat recovered.” The female twin’s voice betrayed nothing of whatever weakness still plagued her.
Danon, meanwhile, was making his way toward the sidhe—looking every bit as pasty-faced as his sister. Len met Albigard’s eyes and extended a hand to him, hoisting the Fae to his feet when he accepted it. They followed Nezri toward the little group, where someone handed Albigard a cup of whatever steaming stuff the sidhe was drinking. He accepted it with a nod of thanks and sipped.
The cat-sidhe looked up as Len and Albigard arrived, a combination of relief and disquiet lighting their expressive eyes. “You’re safe. Good.”
Scabs and bruising darkened one side of the sidhe’s face, and livid red marks ringed their neck. The cartilage of one delicately pointed ear was torn. The injuries appeared several days old, however—already half-healed. Len knew that in another day or two, no physical evidence of the abuse would remain.
Idly, he wondered if all of the guards who’d attacked the sidhe in California had survived the fight.
Albigard, too, seemed to be transfixed by the sidhe’s injuries. He blinked, breaking free of his reverie. “I’m not certain safe is the right word. But the Forsaken have a theory, and I would very much like your opinion on it.”
The cat-sidhe gave a nod of encouragement and took another sip of their drink.
“The people here believe that Chaima is a physical place—a real tree—and that if I can draw the Wild Hunt into the caverns that house its root system, Dhuinne may be able to absorb it and use the destructive magic to rebalance its rampaging life magic.”
The cup froze an inch from the diminutive Fae’s lips, and they blinked. Silence settled over the gathered crowd, as complete as though everyone in the camp was holding their collective breath, waiting for an answer.
The sidhe lowered the cup carefully and set it aside. “That... is not an approach I had considered. The Hunt is not the underlying cause of the magical imbalance in Dhuinne. It is only one symptom.”
“Is Chaima real, though?” Albigard insisted.
“Yes, of course it is,” the cat-sidhe replied. “That is the same as asking if Dhuinne is real. One is a reflection of the other.”
“And you could take us there?” Albigard asked.
Again, the sidhe hesitated. “Not at this precise moment... but when I have recovered more fully, yes.”
“Do you think it could work, though?” Len demanded, trying very hard not to focus on what it would truly mean if the sidhe said yes.
He could almost see the calculations running behind the sidhe’s sharp, catlike eyes.
“I think... your proposed plan could quite possibly succeed in containing the Hunt and bringing it back under control,” they said slowly. “I am less certain that it would repair the underlying damage to Dhuinne. However... the theory of rebalancing life magic with excess elemental magic seems sound. It might function as a temporary measure while the true cause is found and addressed.”
Len swallowed, still refusing to think beyond the next step in the journey... the next link in the chain. “How long will you need to recover from your injuries? Because the Hunt could show up here at any time, and if it does, these people are in terrible danger.”
“We will leave in the morning,” the little sidhe declared. “The Hunt is not currently within the realm of Dhuinne. We have time.”
Len’s stomach dipped. “Does that mean it’s on Earth?”
“That I do not know, human. I only know that it is not here.” Green eyes met his. “I am sorry.”
Albigard’s cool fingers brushed Len’s, and the Fae tangled their hands together, startling him. Len looked at the hand holding his, then up at his companion’s face.
“Tomorrow,” Albigard said softly. “We will fix this tomorrow.”
Len struggled to get his plunging stomach and paralyzed lungs under control, trying not to imagine how much damage the Wild Hunt might do to Earth in the course of a single night.
“Tomorrow,” he rasped in weak agreement.
“Shall we accompany you on your journey?” Danon asked, gesturing at his sister.
A small, sad smile lifted the corners of the sidhe’s lips, only to fade away an instant later. “No, younglings. Your power is vast, but you cannot assist in this. Stay with your tribe and keep them safe. In fact, you should probably decamp from this place for a few days.”
“Even with wards in place, my presence here has put you all at risk,” Albigard said. “The Hunt will sense that I have been here, and may pass through the camp as it tracks me.”
Nezri nodded. “To move elsewhere for a short time is no great har
dship—especially if we are able to return afterward. It is a small price to pay for Mother Dhuinne’s survival.”
“Then we will all depart tomorrow at dawn,” said the cat-sidhe. “Until then, rest and fortify yourselves. I intend to do the same.”
“Your injuries,” Len said, desperate to keep his focus anywhere but where it wanted to go—to Earth, and his friends there who might be in terrible danger. To what they would all have to face in the morning. He swallowed hard. “I have medical training. Is there anything I can do to make you more comfortable?”
The sidhe graced him with the same small smile they’d bestowed on the twins. “No, human. Someone else needs you far more than I, tonight.”
And with that, Len and Albigard were effectively dismissed. The plan was in place, and nothing else remained to be discussed. Members of the camp began to disperse to their various campfires, discussing the day’s events in excited tones.
Meanwhile, Len stood frozen, unable to move for fear that it would shatter the brittle shield he was holding around his emotions.
Leesa approached them nervously, casting Len a concerned look before turning her attention to Albigard. “I have a message from the members of the camp,” she told him. “We want you to know how grateful we are for what you’re doing. It’s very brave, and we’ll never forget it.”
Albigard was, for one of very few times in Len’s experience, struck speechless.
Leesa hurried on. “It’s all right, you don’t have to say anything. Just... thank you.” With that, she darted in and kissed Albigard on the cheek, then turned and hurried away.
Albigard lifted a hand to the side of his face, then blinked, coming back to himself. “No wonder they live in exile in the wildlands,” he said. “Such softness would not survive a week in the city.”
Len wanted to grab the conversational life preserver—to chide Albigard for being an ungracious asshole to the bitter end. He didn’t. He couldn’t.
Albigard’s brows drew together. “Are you well?”
“No,” Len said hoarsely. “No, I’m really not. Will you... come with me? There’s a place I want you to see.”
Forsaken Fae: The Complete Series, Books 1-3 (Last Vampire World) Page 41