“What did you do to that creature?” I asked, voice quaking as I held out my hand in the direction from which I'd run. He shrugged his shoulders in a manner so loose and casual that it looked like he was merely rolling them.
“I was tired of his singsong. Were you not? It was your name that he was slandering about the countryside.” The fae touched a finger to his lips. “Were you, perhaps, looking for this?” He pulled my pocket knife from his mouth and displayed it, palm up, in his hand. I swallowed nervously and wished for Corey. He was supposed to be here. He knew how to deal with this place. I didn't. Until a few months ago, I'd been a normal girl. I didn't know faeries really existed or that mushroom rings were anything more than the spores of the fungi beneath. How lucky I'd been. How lucky the rest of the world was.
“What do you want from me?” I asked as he frowned and the pocket knife disappeared again.
“Want?” he asked, voice still smooth like fine cognac. “I don't want anything from you.” I frowned, my brows drawing together tightly. I was already starting to feel a headache coming on. Fucking glamour.
“Then why are you helping me?” I asked him, straightening my shoulders. “Fae don't help anyone without a price.” That, at least, was the one truth I knew to follow. If I did, I might get out of here alive. Or at least, still undead.
“I can take you to the Queen,” he said, mimicking the little, orange fae. “Georgette.”
“How do you know my name?” I asked, eyes narrowed as he bent down, legs bunched beneath him like a predator waiting to strike. Every instinct in my body was telling me to run, but when I caught the inquisitive gaze in his eyes, I knew I wasn't going to get very far.
“All of the Unseelie know the names of the dead, Georgette. And they've been expecting you.”
CHAPTER FOUR
KELPIE
“Kelpie appear as shimmering white horses frequently swimming or carousing about large bodies of water esp. rivers. They can be identified by a perpetually dripping mane and tail. A kelpie can be captured by harnessing it with a bridle made from nearby reeds but beware – if the harness is not secured properly, it will drag you to your death within seconds.”
I trailed behind the still naked fae and tried to piece together the meaning in his words. I wasn't dead. I was undead. Maybe they considered it the same thing, but I didn't. I wanted to ask questions, a whole lot of them, but I was too scared to speak.
Unseelie.
The ones who had kidnapped Rachel.
I didn't want to see the Unseelie Queen without Corey, but this fae, who I was starting to suspect was one of the sidhe, didn't seem particularly inclined to listen to what I had to say.
He had turned without waiting for me to answer and had disappeared quickly into the darkness of the trees. When I didn't follow, he had returned to the edge of the forest and waited, sullen and silent.
“I'm not going with you,” I'd said, proud of the way I was able to meet his eyes without showing fear. He'd smiled at me, a dramatic twisting of his blue tinged lips, and shrugged.
“Stay here then and wait for another to find you. I can promise they will be far less accommodating than I.” He laughed and the sound was that of a person gone insane. It was absolutely terrifying. “You felt the pull when you crossed the Veil, did you not?” he asked, voice calmer but still with a faint trace of laughter. I shivered. I'd felt it alright. “The Queen demands your presence and she is not a patient person. Necromancy can only hold back her power for so long.”
If the Unseelie Queen herself was sending her powers questing after me, personally, I was in deep shit.
“Where 's Corey?” The words had burst from my lips before I could stop them. He had shrugged and, satisfied that he had tempted me with enough information, retreated back into the trees.
And I had followed. I was a fool.
I watched his pale, perky ass glide across the leaf litter and tried to keep my wits about me. Just because he was leading me to the court, didn't mean he'd protect me along the way. I was still just as alone as I'd been when the tree had first attacked me.
“You smell horrible,” he said, not bothering to glance over his shoulder to gauge my reaction. “What's under that pretty little glamour of yours?” I ignored him. He really, really didn't like that. In an instant, he was next to me, hands hovering over my shoulders as if he planned on touching me. “Maybe you'd like me to strip it away and find out?” His hot breath pulsed against my ear. I continued to walk at the same pace. He kept up with me easily.
“You smell just like rotten flesh, warm and sweet. You're going to attract every Unseelie and unaligned fae within a hundred kilometers.” He said the last word choppily and in English despite the entirety of our conversation thus far having been in the banshee tongue. Key-low-me-ters. “If you want me to protect you, you'll answer my questions. Is it a deal?” I felt my blood go cold.
“Don't ever, ever make a deal with a fae.” Rachel said to me, turning around, eyes filled with fear and pain. “Because it's going to be the last mistake you ever make.”
“No!” I shouted, stepping sideways, trying to put some distance between the two of us. “It is not a deal. I don't ever remember asking you to protect me. Where's Corey?”
“Corey,” he spat, voice low and dangerous. “Is with the Seelie Queen.”
“How do you know that?” I gasped, hand going to my chest. “How is that even possible? I just got here!” He laughed again, less maniacally this time, but still with a touch of insanity.
“Just got here? You've been here for hours, Georgette French. I've been watching you since you tumbled into my world. Time runs differently in the Other Place than it does on Earth.” I bent down into a crouch and wrapped my arms around my head.
Corey should've prepared us better than this. I was shocked into inaction. How could it have been hours? I tumbled down the hill and then Corey rolled me under his magic and then I saw the trees …
“You're lying,” I hissed, raising my head just a little. The fae shook his head, the twig falling loose and his hair cascading down his back.
“What cause would I have to lie?” His lips curled up in a self assured smile. “I watched him look for you; he was frantic. He loves you?” I didn't answer and tucked my head beneath my arms. “Scatach wanted to see you, but that boy's magic is strong. Unnaturally so, I'd say. But then, what does my opinion matter? I'm just the Fool.” I looked up at his wording. Not a fool, the Fool. If he had a title, then he was a powerful fae. It was a bad omen.
“Corey wouldn't leave me behind,” I said, my lips pressed into my thighs.
“He had no choice. The Other Place is quite fond of Scatach. Hours passed quickly as minutes for you and the Icthara Oak shielded you from him.” I raised my head, pushing my tears back. I couldn't let a fae see me cry. It would let him know just how much all of this was getting to me.
“Why are you telling me all of this? I'm not giving you anything in return. We made no deals.”
“Why?” he asked, and I was relieved to hear that his voice was back to its original smooth, inquisitive tone. “Because Rachel asked me to.”
My legs unfolded beneath me, fast as pistons, and I found myself inches in front of him. If he'd been wearing a shirt, I would have grabbed it.
“Where is she? Is she okay?” The fae laughed. I was beginning to question my earlier hypothesis that his man was sidhe. He spoke the same language as Rachel and knew her well enough for a favor to have passed between them. “And what are you?”
“What are you?” he parroted back at me, lips still frozen in a smile. “A question for a question … It seems fair enough to me.”
“I'm a huma-” I stopped as he raised dark eyebrows at me. “I'm a zombie.” The fae cackled, taking a step back from me, his mouth open wide revealing a blue-violet tongue and perfect, square teeth, white as snow.
“I see,” he said, calming himself. It was quite apparent to me at that point that he was at least a little bit crazy.
I was going to have to very, very careful with this one. “I am sidhe. My fellows call me Amadan, the Fool, but what do they know? They're all rather insane.” I kept my mouth shut.
“How do you know Rachel?” I asked.
“The banshee are slaves to the Unseelie.” It was less an answer to my question and more of a blanket statement. I didn't have much room to argue though. He was already giving me more information than I'd hoped for or expected.
“Can you take me to her?” I asked. Amadan's smile grew wider, turning his face into a ridiculous caricature of its former beauty.
“I will take you to Scatach, Unseelie Queen, Keeper of the Dead, Daughter of the Other Place, Shadow of the Shining People.” His voice grew an octave with each title before stopping abruptly. “You can ask her.” I couldn't imagine that this was going to end well.
Amadan began walking again, a faster pace this time, and I had to jog to catch up lest I get left alone in the shadows of an unnamed fae forest.
Please, I whispered more to myself than anyone else. Don't make me regret this.
The Unseelie Queen held out one, long willowy hand and cupped it under my chin. I tried to maintain a straight spine, but in truth, I was terrified. She stunk so strongly of magic that I felt my nostrils flare involuntarily. It wasn't the same as Corey's magic which had a musky, earth-like quality to it. Hers filtered in through my nose and came to rest on my tongue reminding me of dried blood and decomposing vegetation.
I avoided her nearly black eyes by focusing my gaze on the fine, spider web lacing of her dress. It was all she was wearing. I could see every inch of her shining white skin through the fabric even down to the dark patch of hair between her legs.
It hadn't taken us long to get to her though Amadan had essentially forced me to travel through another faerie ring to get to the forest clearing that we were now standing in. Apparently, I was special enough that the Queen herself had ridden out to greet me.
She twisted my face from side to side, seemingly examining each and every pore. Her dark hair was a tousled mess pulled into a loose coiffure on the top of her head. Despite being filled with the orange and yellow leaves of late autumn, the style was elegant and did the sharp, almost pointed features of her face justice.
“How,” she paused, her voice low and light, like wind through reeds but still dangerous. “Did you ever manage to find yourself in this state?” She released my face and stood back, crossing her arms in front of her small breasts. “I suppose that it is an omen of your destiny.” I watched her warily, arms hanging stiffly at my sides. I hadn't the slightest idea of what she was talking about, but she did seem marginally saner than the Fool. That, at least, was a relief.
Remember Georgette, I reminded myself as Scatach's face turned up in a kittenish grin, these are the people that Rachel was running from. Never forget that.
The Queen turned back to Amadan, and in an instant, the grin was gone and she was louring at him.
“What do you want, Fool? I don't have time for your games.” I turned my head to the left as slowly as I possibly could so as not to attract unwanted attention from either of the bickering sidhe. Scatach and I were standing together atop a small mound with a tiny yellow door at its front and smoke billowing from a miniature chimney not two feet from where I was standing. I tilted my chin down to get a better look at my former guide. I hoped she wouldn't make him leave. He had information about Rachel that I wanted. Information he had refused to give me during the remainder of our walk. But still …
“Is it so wrong for me to do our lovely and gracious queen a favor?” Amadan asked, ignoring her and watching me with half lidded eyes. Scatach scowled and lifted the long train of lace that was gathered around her bare feet.
She stepped carefully down the edge of the mound, her dark eyes locked on Amadan as if she expected him to lash out at her at any moment. She had come alone, with no guards. It was a sign of her power and the amount of control and influence that she exerted here. I couldn't help but feel that Amadan would truly deserve his nickname if he was bent on fighting with her.
“I see,” she said curtly, dropping the dress as she stopped less than six inches in front of him. “And this would have nothing to do with this morning's execution, now would it?” Amadan shrugged at her with another graceful roll of his shoulders. The word execution stuck in my mind like a curse. Who's execution? Not Rachel. It couldn't be Rachel. I swallowed and took a step forward. The Queen's head swiveled around to look at me.
“You cannot condemn me for attending one of your infamous executions, Your Majesty. You have such a skilled hand at the art; I couldn't stay away. Even if I am unaligned with your court, my eyes cannot be blinded to such mastery.” The words were polite, if a little morbid, but the tone in which he said them was not. The Fool was mocking her.
I couldn't see Scatach's face, but her back stiffened, shoulder blades drawing together.
“I would suggest,” she growled, taking another step towards him until their toes were nearly touching. “That you leave. Now.” Amadan shrugged and waved at me once before melting down into the form of a hulking, white wolf. The transformation was just as fluid and easy as it had been from stag to sidhe. He shook himself once, his thick pelt ruffling, before turning on his heel and disappearing into the trees.
A shout caught in the back of my throat, frozen in place when the Queen turned back to me.
“Come with me,” she barked in short, clipped tones. My heart was pounding in my chest. Amadan had provided, if only briefly, at least an illusion of safety. Now that I was alone with her, it would be entirely up to me to hold her attention without angering her. Not an easy task if the stories Rachel had told me were true. I just hoped that I wasn't going to have to please her like that … I paused, breathing deeply.
Rachel.
“The execution,” I said, my voice small and weak, dampened by all of the wet foliage around us. “Was,” I paused, I didn't want her to know I cared about Rachel or even knew her. That would give her leverage to try and bargain with me. “Who was it?” The Queen stared back at me, face blank, as if she were entirely uninterested in anything I had to say.
“Is that any of your concern?” she whispered. She spoke so quietly that I had to strain to hear her. “You should be more concerned with the fact that you're late.” I blinked back at her, confused. Did any of the fae make sense, ever?
“I'm sorry but I don't – ” Her eyebrows raised substantially and her reedy fingers twitched dangerously. I stopped speaking and tried to breathe.
The little yellow door on the front of the mound swung open, and I caught a partially obscured glimpse of the creature inside. Tiny gossamer wings twitched, and the fuchsia skinned fae hissed. Instead of being angry, as I'd expected, the Queen smiled.
She held out one hand, palm forward. The shadows of the trees and shrubs around her crept forward like living things, twining up her legs and belly to crawl along her forearm. They coalesced into a tiny, glimmering orb in the center of her hand before pulsing outward like a bolt of lightning and striking the tiny creature.
Flesh and blood exploded outward like a macabre fireworks display. I covered my eyes with my arm as warm bits showered from the sky and splattered against my skin and hair. Laughter filled the forest clearing, low and guttural. The sound was more reminiscent of a beast than a woman. I pulled my arm away and watched the Unseelie Queen lick droplets of red from her fingertips before sauntering off in the direction opposite of where Amadan had gone.
I took a deep breath and reconsidered my earlier notion. The Unseelie Queen was not saner than Amadan. They were both crazy.
“I hate sidhe,” I whispered, using the sleeve of my jacket to wipe the rest of the gore from my face.
“So do I,” a vaguely familiar voice whispered from the shrubs behind me. I glanced quickly at the direction in which the Queen had gone, but she was already out of sight. I turned around and watched the bushes quiver and shake, tiny red berries scattering acr
oss the ground. A pale foot emerged, smashing the fruit into the dirt, leaving patches like fresh blood.
It was Amadan.
He paused and examined the mess Scatach had made of the mound's owner.
“I just wanted to let you know that I was still here,” he said, eyes focused on an indeterminate point in the distance. “I promised Rachel that I would see you safely away from here.”
“Where is she?” I whispered, glancing nervously behind me. Amadan smiled, lips pressed tightly together.
“Why do you think I took you to Scatach?” he asked in response to my question.
“How the fuck should I know?” I snapped, forgetting for just a moment that Amadan was a psychopathic faerie.
“Careful, careful. You shouldn't keep the Keeper of the Dead waiting,” he said, finger pressed to his lips. With that, he stepped back into the bramble and was gone. I huffed in disappointment and had no other choice but to follow after Scatach.
The Queen hadn't gone far. She was standing at the edges of a murky pond. Her eyes were focused fondly on a growing ripple in the center of the blue-green water. I waited a safe distance back and watched as the heads of two white horses surfaced. They whickered softly at the Queen as they swam towards the reed covered banks. Kelpie.
An involuntarily shiver went down my spine. I distinctly remembered reading about these in Corey's journal. The Queen pulled the muzzle of one of the kelpie to her and kissed it gingerly between its flaring nostrils. Her hand trailed up its thick, muscular neck and she wrapped her fingers in the soggy, green reeds that had been woven together as a bridle.
“Come, Georgette,” she cooed. “Come and see my babies.” She grasped the bridle of the other kelpie and turned to face me, holding it out like a prize. I grimaced but took it. I hoped Amadan knew what he was doing. I hoped that I knew what I was doing in trusting him to take me here.
I raised my hand and grasped the slippery reins in my fingers. The texture was slimy and unpleasant. I tried not to make a face as I watched the Queen pull her dress up around her hips and hoist herself expertly onto the back of the other kelpie.
Gray and Graves: A Dark Fae Menage Urban Fantasy (The Three Courts of Faerie Book 1) Page 6