“Why?”
“She told me he is one of the Four. I wasn’t able to get her to elaborate.” Élie reflected on their conversation. “Freya added that no matter where Pierce goes, she will find him and threaten people he cares for until he returns to England.”
“Has she met him before?”
“She placed a spell over him on the night of his birth. I couldn’t sense what kind of spell it was, but it felt dangerous. I tried undoing it, but the extent of her powers was great, even at such a young age. The hex was woven permanently through him. I now assume it was a location spell, similar to the one she placed on Joaquin.”
“Her powers are great because of this god. However, if she can find Pierce, then, one day, he must face her.”
“He cannot go up against her or a god.”
“He will not be alone. You and I will assist. It may be years before this happens, but the next time she comes for him, he’ll be unable to ignore it.”
“I don’t understand. How can she kill someone before their time?”
“She can with the help of this god I mentioned,” Orenda explained. “There are gods who have the capability to bypass ancient rules. The question is why she hadn’t sent the god to kill Pierce instead of going through the hassle of possessing his sibling to do the deed.”
“She wants to bring something back that is extinct. What do you think it is?”
Orenda turned away. Again, she was quiet in thought.
“Countless entities have come and gone throughout the existence of the universe. It could be anything.”
“You’re the Mother of Craft,” Élie moaned desperately. “Is there any way for you to . . .?”
“I used to be Mother of Craft,” she retorted from over her shoulder. “I am no longer that person. At the moment, there is no Mother of Craft. Only imposters.”
“Why come?” Élie huffed, feeling perturbed.
“I told you. A connection binds me to your kin. Keep vigilance, child. Whatever Freya is planning, it has been spinning in motion for quite a long time.” She turned to face Élie. “I will do what I can when I can. With a god in the mix, my aid will be limited.”
“What about my grandson, Joaquin? He must find this demon in order to have it extract its blood from him. He may die before ever reaching it.”
She offered a smile of reassurance.
“I’ve already prepared something.” She turned her hand, palm up, and a spark of light flashed above it. “Have him wear this around his neck. Say ‘Slív ing chooí’ when you place it on him.”
Suspended in the air just above her hand was a perfectly shaped circular stone. It appeared to be made of black glass with glowing red and orange light within it. The stone was framed by brass and hung from a copper chain.
“This is an amber ore stone,” Orenda explained. “Inside is the fire of life. It will soothe the wicked blood in Joaquin and renew his strength. As it uses its energy, the flame burns away, and will do so even more rapidly if Joaquin resists the spell’s intended purpose.”
“You mean killing his brother.”
She nodded gravely.
“He needs to find the demon before the fire burns out. Understand?”
“Oui. I understand.”
The stone floated toward Élie and dropped into her hand. Again, Orenda smiled fondly at her.
“You are a good and noble wise woman, Élie Fey. You have my deepest respect. For Eilidh and Archie’s sake, I must ask that you keep me a secret from them as well as everyone else. The longer I stay hidden, the better it may serve us.”
Mother of Craft waved a hand over Élie’s face, and just like that, she was standing in the middle of the road beside her horse.
Orenda was nowhere.
Élie looked at the amber ore stone resting in her palm.
Joaquin.
Chapter Four
Guess Where You’re Going?
“I can’t believe your brother is here,” Taisia said to Pierce as they gathered firewood across the road from the cottage.
“I can,” he grumbled.
“Is he really dying?” Clover asked, holding a bundle of sticks.
Pierce chewed his bottom lip. Although he would never forgive Joaquin for slicing his throat and leaving him for dead, he hated what his brother was going through.
“Dunno, love.”
“Pierce,” said Taisia in that beautiful Russian accent of hers, “your grandmother is here.”
He craned his neck to see her riding toward the cottage.
“Right,” he sighed.
They crossed the road and reached the lane ahead.
“Oi, Grandma,” he called as they approached.
“Oh, good. There you are. Come, we must speak to your brother.”
“Where did you go?”
“I will explain everything inside.” She said, and hurried for the door.
Pierce looked at Taisia, who only shrugged.
By the time they had added the firewood to the woodpile in the back and entered the house, Grandmother Fey was already explaining her absence to everyone in the living room.
“You went to see a witch?” Indigo asked.
“Oui. Her name is Freya Bates.”
“Freya?” Nona spoke up, sitting on the couch. “The girl who left the Gypsies?”
“Not just left,” Grandmother Fey admitted. “I ordered her to go, and threatened her if she didn’t. She was dangerous.”
“Dangerous?” Jasper said with deep concern. “What has she done?”
Grandmother Fey stole a glance at Pierce before her eyes shifted elsewhere.
“Did you find out anything, Grandmother?” Joaquin asked from the top of the stairs.
Pierce cringed at the sight of him. He looked worse than when he had gone upstairs to the guest bedroom to rest.
“Oui, Grandson. Come down. I have something for you.”
He descended, holding the railing for support. Nona shot to her feet and rushed over to help him before he fell over. Once Joaquin reached the newel cap, Grandmother Fey placed a copper chain with a stone hanging from it, around his neck and clasped it on.
She pressed the rock against his chest and whispered, “Slív ing chooí.”
Joaquin stood a moment, perplexed, and then breathed in deeply. Not just breathed, but gasped as if it was the first time he had ever used his lungs.
“Joaquin?” Nona said worryingly when he doubled over with his hands on his knees. “Mother, what have you done to him?”
“Just wait,” she advised.
Pierce stepped in and watched nervously as Joaquin collected himself. Eventually, his breathing slowed to a normal rhythm. He sighed and then rose. The horrid bruises on his skin cleared away like storm clouds, making way for a healthier pigment. The brightness in his eyes burned through the dull green, and his hair darkened. His body filled out as if the muscles and fat were ballooning beneath his withering flesh. The transformation was enough to make Nona step back.
“How do you feel?” Grandmother Fey asked.
Joaquin studied his hands, seeing them as they used to be.
The bass in his tone sounded stronger when he answered, “Better.” He took hold of the necklace. “What is this?”
“It’s an amber ore stone. It will help keep you alive, but only for a little while. The energy inside will fade as it burns. Once it does, you’ll fall ill once more.”
Jasper approached his son with heightened curiosity.
“Where did you get this stone?”
Grandmother Fey’s expression was severe. “It was a gift and I will say nothing more about it.”
To her grandson, she said, “Joaquin, I know what you need to do. Your body has been tainted with a deadly amount of demon blood. You must travel to Edinburgh and locate a demon.”
“Edinburgh?” asked Nona.
“Scotland?” Jasper said.
“Demon?” exclaimed Pierce. “What bloody demon?”
“The one whose blood courses through your
brother’s body,” Grandmother Fey explained. “For Joaquin to be cured, he has to get it to extract the blood from his body.”
Joaquin lowered the amber ore stone and nodded in acceptance. “Right. I should crack on then, eh?”
“You just got here,” his mother argued. “Can’t you stay for a few days more?”
“He should leave as soon as possible,” Grandmother Fey advised. “Nona, we’re going to the Netherlands. I want you to meet someone. Besides. . .” She turned to Indigo, who hadn’t made a peep, “. . . we have imposed on poor Mr. Peachtree long enough.”
The old man smiled at her. “No trouble at all, madam. Although, without any distractions around, I can finish cleaning out my workshop—Pierce.”
“What? It wasn’t my fault one of your stink bombs went off inside it.”
Pierce glanced over at Clover who clasped her hands behind her back and turned her large eyes toward the ceiling.
“We’ll meet back here in June,” Grandmother Fey stated.
Nona wrapped her arms around Joaquin’s arm and looked up at him with heartache. “Why do you boys want to run off as soon as I have you back?”
I ain’t going anywhere, Pierce thought with confidence.
“Pierce,” his mother said to him, “you should go with him.”
His jaw dropped.
“Sorry? Come again? Excuse me? Pardon? What? Go with him?” He pointed at Joaquin. “Go with this man?”
“He’s your brother, Pierce,” she argued. “And he needs help.”
“You oughta go,” Jasper chimed in. “Joaquin could use the extra hand.”
Pierce honestly could not believe what he was hearing.
“We’ll come with you, Joaquin,” Taisia spoke up. “Pierce and I.”
Pierce raised his hands and turned to her, gawking. “Oi. Seriously?”
She shrugged.
“Your mother is right. He needs our help.”
“It’s a three-week ride to Edinburgh,” he pointed out, as if the trip mattered. After all, he was more than adapted to traveling long distances. “And we just returned from the bloody Netherlands!”
It wasn’t that he didn’t want Joaquin to get well. It simply boiled down to the fact that he didn’t trust him. What would keep Joaquin from trying to put a blade to him again, shoot him, or strangle him to death? What if he attacked Taisia? Then Pierce would be forced to kill him.
“It’s all right, Pierce,” Joaquin said in a poignant tone. “I understand.”
Suddenly, Pierce had become the bad guy, and he saw it in everyone’s disappointed expressions. He breathed in so much frustrated air, his lungs nearly burst from it.
He exhaled and grunted petulantly, “Fine. We’ll set off after supper.”
Eilidh entered through the front door after having popped out to take a walk. She eyed everyone and asked, “What’s going on?”
“Taisia, Joaquin, and I are riding to bloody Scotland,” Pierce griped, crossing his arms.
“Oh,” she said mildly. “Do enjoy yourselves. Has Archie returned from his hunt, yet?”
“No,” Jasper answered. “He and your coachman, Mr. Rhys, ought to be back soon, though.”
“Joaquin,” Grandmother Fey whispered while his mum headed for the kitchen. “You and I must talk.”
He nodded.
“All right.”
The two left through the front door.
* * *
Joaquin’s legs were much sturdier now. When he pulled air into his lungs, it no longer sent wisps of fire inside them. The various pains poking his brain had ceased, and his bones had regained their density.
Outside, Grandmother Fey led him away from the house and out of everyone’s earshot. Joaquin knew their conversation would be a serious one.
“What happened when you left?” he asked when she stopped. “What did Freya tell you?”
“She is certainly planning something that has already been set into motion. That night when you came to her, she gave you the demon blood to control you.”
“She wants to control me?”
“Oui. She mixed too much into your wine. That is why it hasn’t faded like it’s supposed to.”
“Why? What does she want from me?”
Grandmother Fey stayed quiet for a few heartbeats before she said, “To kill Pierce.”
Joaquin took a step back. “What? Why? What did he do to her?”
“Nothing. He has done nothing to her. And I’m not sure why she needs him gone, but she will be relentless and hard to stop.”
“I never wanted to harm him,” Joaquin explained.
“I know you didn’t. It doesn’t change the fact that the spell is still inside you. Meaning, it can be triggered through anger, temptation, or even jealousy.”
“Don’t you think he ought to stay behind, then?”
“Non. Without him and Taisia, you may not make it. You need to control your feelings. I must warn you, though, if the demon blood speaks to you and you fight it, it’ll burn a lot of the energy flame inside the ore stone in order to restore you. That will shorten your time even faster. Understand?”
“I do.”
She touched his face, sending that warm, familiar sensation coursing through him.
“You can do this, Joaquin. You are strong in the body, mind, and heart. Go to Scotland and return to us well.”
“How are we to find this demon?”
“You must first locate the hustler. He will take you to it.”
“A hustler? Are you sure?”
“I saw him in a vision. Find the hustler and you shall find the demon.”
“Erm. All right. Where shall I fine this hustler?”
* * *
Pierce had stepped out of the back door to cool off when Taisia followed him.
“Are you all right?” she asked.
“Aye,” he grunted, kneeling beside the brook to scoop up some water. “Right as rain.”
He splashed it on his face, but he was still fuming.
Truth be told, he was furious that no one understood why he was reluctant to go. Aside from being around the man who had tried to kill him, Pierce was itching to get out of England. It wasn’t only because of that wanker, Lieutenant Darius Javan, who had ordered him out, but also because Pierce was simply ready to leave it all behind.
“You’re pouting,” she pressed.
He rose to his full height with an agitated sigh.
“I’m not bloody pouting. I’m a tad put off that you lot pretty much roped me into helping the bastard without giving a toss about how I feel about it.”
“And how do you feel about it?” Taisia asked sincerely.
He looked deeply into her patient eyes, which helped him from going off on a needless tantrum. Instead, he gave pause to her question.
“I, er . . . I . . .” he began, then stopped. He believed he would say he was angry or that he felt betrayed. Instead, he said, “I’m rather lost, actually.”
“Lost?”
“Aye. Torn, I should say.”
“I see.” She stepped toward him. “You can’t trust Joaquin and you hate him for what he did to you. Yet, it’s hard to stand by and let him go off on his own.”
“Well, yeah, but also—”
“Also, you wanted it to be up to you whether to help him or not.”
She’d hit the mark. That’s what irked him. It didn’t seem he had a choice in the matter, and that everyone had decided for him.
“Would you?”
“Would I what?” he asked.
“Abandon him in his time of need? I know you, Pierce Landcross. I’ve known about you for years before we even met. You’ve never struck me as someone who would leave behind a friend or loved one.”
“And Joaquin is neither,” he argued.
“Is that true?” she challenged him, matching his stern tone. “You can’t honestly believe that after learning about what has happened to him, he would harm you if the spell hadn’t been placed on him?”
&n
bsp; “Er . . . no, but . . .”
“That is why we decided for you, Pierce. To speed things along.”
“Eh? Come again?”
“Da. You would have eventually agreed to join him, but since time is of the essence, we needed to count you in.”
Pain formed inside his head right above his eye while he attempted to wrap his mind around that.
“All right,” he huffed, stroking his forehead. “You’re making things up now, aren’t you?”
“Am I?”
He mulled it over. Growing up, Joaquin had always watched over Pierce, never even laying a hand on him when they argued. That night, when Joaquin attacked him, Pierce had seen something foreign in him. Something evil.
“Joaquin is family, and this is what family must do for each other,” Taisia stated, her accent deepening to make her point more felt.
Pierce paused a moment just to look at her. He admired her lovely dark freckles dotting her sienna skin. The way her cognac-colored eyes seemed to capture every light around them, as did her short, golden-brown hair. God, how he loved her.
She also looked fetching in her outfit. On their way back from the Netherlands, she’d been wearing men’s clothing as a disguise. She had kept the slacks for riding, but now, she wore the upper half of the two-piece, rosewood gown with the black lace sleeves Juan Fan had given her.
“This is what family does? You mean, like finding demons and asking them to remove their blood from the bodies of their loved ones?” he quipped.
She snorted. “Precisely.”
The levity helped, but the subject was very dire. Joaquin was in trouble, and although Pierce could not view him as the loving and protective brother he once did, he knew he still needed his help. Thinking about it, Pierce realized that if the boot were on the other foot, Joaquin would most likely have stepped up and done the same for him.
Fuckin’ hell.
* * *
Archie and the coachman returned with three hares. After they ate, Pierce helped load up Archie’s carriage for departure, and then he, Taisia, and Joaquin packed for the long journey ahead. They said their goodbyes and mounted up.
“What are we supposed to do when we reach Edinburgh?” Pierce asked, riding beside Joaquin.
The Underground Page 4