by Clara Martin
Kingdom of the Western Winds
To my family – my mother, two brothers, John and Josiah, and father, who put up with me and my obsessive writing.
With a special shout-out to Josiah, who read the whole darned thing when it was pretty ugly.
Shout-outs to Hallie Foster, my dear friend; Rich Litle, who was there when I needed it most; Brian O’Callaghan, a dear friend and amazing mentor; Jiyati Verma, dear and valued friend; and Anna Ziska, an amazing friend and mentor.
I am drowning, my dear, in seas of fire.
– Virginia Woolf, To the Lighthouse
Chapter 1
“I don’t know,” Sarah repeated, clutching her baby to her chest. “I don’t know.” She shivered.
“I understand, Sarah,” I said as gently as I could. “But anything you can tell us could be helpful.”
It was the day after my kidnapping attempt, and Garrett, Sarah, and I were debriefing in the Northern Virginia Rescue Association’s headquarters. I shuddered to remember it – the mysterious fae Adeline had appeared out of nowhere at the Unity Shelter, put everyone except Sarah to sleep, and abducted me. Then the second, monstrous fae, who looked like my maybe-boyfriend Charles, had appeared and tried to abduct me as well.
It was also the day after Charles Talbot had disappeared into the boundary land of the Kingdom of the Northern Sun, searching for his captured strike team. The team I’d failed to free. I frowned and shook my head, trying to physically shake away the guilt, and focused once again on Sarah.
“Sarah,” Garrett said from where he stood on the other side of the room, “you were a slave in Northern Sun. You escaped right before this all started going down.” He paused. “I’m not saying you know anything, and I’m not accusing you of anything. I’m just wondering —what did you see in the Kingdom of the Northern Sun, before you fled?”
Sarah seemed to sag. “I was Prince Faolain’s personal slave,” she said, her voice soft. “Tara is his daughter.” She shifted the sleeping child.
Garrett and I exchanged looks. “I’m sorry, Sarah” I said softly. “I can’t even imagine what you went through.”
“No,” she said dully. “No, you can’t.” She bit her lip. “I ran because I knew Prince Faolain would kill me for the things I’d heard.”
“What did you hear?” I asked, as gently as I could. Garrett shifted, like a lion on the hunt.
She stared at the two of us. “Will you use it to hurt him?”
Garrett and I exchanged another glance. “Yes,” Garrett said. “Yes, we will.”
Sarah let out a sigh and nodded. “You know that Faolain is a prince of Northern Sun. He’s full-blooded. But his father…his father’s reign is challenged. No one knows who one of the challengers is. They just call him l’Inconnu.”
I shifted uncomfortably. I thought I knew who that was.
“The other, Faolain, is waging war against his own father. He wants the throne, but he can’t win it outright. He’s trying to unseat his father.”
Garrett frowned. “That’s not particularly unusual,” he said. “That’s how the current king of Northern Sun came to the throne, himself. Doubtless, he’s on his guard.”
“Yes,” Sarah said softly, “but Faolain is working with others. From Western Wind. And” - she swallowed - “from the Northern Wild. Strange fae. Wild, crazed fae. I remember, two came and visited, once, all cloaked and hooded. Faolain told me to call two slaves to his room. I did.” Sarah began to cry. “Then he told me to take their bodies out. They’d been eaten. Only their bones were left.”
I frowned. “That’s horrible, Sarah. I’m so sorry you had to go through that.”
Sarah’s tears came faster. “Their skeletons came apart as I carried them away.” Her cries became sobs. “They were held together only by small tendrils of cartilage.”
Tara woke and started to squall. Sarah shushed her, rocking her gently back and forth. “Faolain didn’t know I’d heard this,” she whispered. “He wouldn’t have let me go so easily, if he knew I’d heard it. But he promised the Northern Wild fae that, when he took power, he’d…he’d rewrite the Treaty of 1785. The one that separated fae land from human land. That creates human embassies in fae lands, and fae embassies in human lands. That gives humans safety in the United States of America. He said that the fae will be free, once more, to hunt.”
Garrett sprang to attention. “Sarah,” he said slowly, “are you sure?”
“I’m certain”, she said. “He told the same to the fae he was working with from the Kingdom of Western Wind. I don’t know how many are in an alliance with him. I just know that some are.”
“All right, Sarah,” Garrett said grimly. “You won’t be going back to the Unity Shelter.The fae found you there once; they can find you there again.” He glanced at me. “Eileen’s decision to take you there was a good one, but it’s no longer secure.”
Sarah nodded, still rocking her baby. “Where will I go?” She whispered.
“We’ll take you to one of our safehouses,” Garrett said, going to the conference room door and rapping on it. It opened, and Anna, the program director, walked in. He leaned over and whispered to her. She looked serious and nodded, and then she turned around and walked out.
“Stay here and make yourself comfortable for now, Sarah,” he said comfortingly. “We’ll keep you safe. Anna’s just gone to call in one of our strike teams.”
“Not that that’ll do much good,” a laughing voice said from the side of the room. Eamon, my new personal menace, sprang into view. I scowled.
“Something wrong, Eileen?” Garrett asked.
“No, Garrett,” I muttered.
“Don’t tell him, Eileen,” Eamon advised from where he floated in midair. “Don’t tell him that you transferred the bond from Faolain to me and that I can speak with you mind to mind.
Then he added thoughtfully, “Or maybe you should. He might just think it’s evidence of your” - he wiggled his fingers — “schizophrenia.”“Eileen,” Garrett said slowly, scrutinizing my face, “did you take your medication?”
“I did, Garrett,” I said, sighing. “I’m just tired.”
He nodded, looking unconvinced.
“Well,” he said after a moment, “you’d best check in with Anna, see if she needs you for anything. If she doesn’t, go home.” He looked back at Sarah. “Let’s get you some food,” he said more gently.
I walked into the conference room. Anna was standing next to Jenny and Rima, talking quietly. I shot Jenny a look, remembering the fae’s taunting words. Jenny is a traitor... I shook my head. The fae couldn’t be trusted. Chances were they were just trying to turn us against her.
“Ah, Eileen,” Anna said, turning her head. “Come join us. We’re just about to dispatch Strike Team Five to come pick up Sarah and take her to our safe house. Just between you, me, and Garrett, it’ll be the one in Centreville.” She pointed at a map spread out on the table. “That’s the only one we have fully staffed and running right now.”
I nodded. “I can go get someone to power up the radio.”
“I forgot,” Anna murmured tiredly. “You can’t use magic to power on the radio.” She sighed. “Don’t worry about it. Why don’t you stay here and plan out the logistics with Rima, while Jenny calls the team up.”
Jenny shot me a snide look as she departed. I ignored her. Picking up a pen and paper, I turned to Rima. “What we got?”
Rima smiled at me. “A ton of fae manure, girl.” She dumped a stack of papers in front of me. “We need to organize the resupply of Centreville, and Vermont on the down-low, because we have intel that the fae are now paying very, very, very close attention to what’s going on.”
We talked logistics f
or the next two hours. Finally, I pushed my chair from the table and arched my back, massaging it with my hands. “I’m exhausted,” I moaned.
“Me, too, Eileen. Me, too,” Rima said. “My wife,” she added pensively, “gets all the good duties. She never gets stuck planning logistics.”
I laughed. “I was an Army Ordnance officer, Rima. Logistics is what I do.” I flipped the pen at her. She caught it and flipped it back, laughing.
“Go… what is it you Army folks do…? Refuel,” she ordered. “I need a break, too.” She gathered the papers together in a pile. “I think we’ve done enough planning for tonight. I’ll give these to Anna.”
“Excellent,” I said, jumping to my feet. I darted out the door before Rima could say another word. Her laughter followed me out.
I jogged to the parking lot and stopped at my car, unlocking it and sliding into the driver’s seat. I checked my watch: nine thirty at night - another late day. Taking my Clozaril out of my purse, I swallowed it down dry and retched.
“I hate dry-swallowing,” I muttered to the empty car.
But you get to hear us otherwise, Joe’s sly voice muttered from behind me. I sighed. Joe was one of my hallucinations - he took the voice and appearance of one of my former Army coworkers.
Yes, Sheldon agreed. Don’t you miss us? Sheldon always appeared as a coworker from Unity Shelter, where I’d worked until I’d had a psychotic breakdown on the job.
“Man,” I growled to the empty car, “schizophrenia blows.” I punched the steering wheel and winced as the horn sounded.
“Man,” Eamon mocked, appearing next to me, “Human disease… what is the word you use? Blow.” He laughed. “Eileen, I’ll never get tired of this. You’re so amusing!”
“What do you want,” I asked flatly, gripping the steering wheel.
“So obnoxious, not being able to punch me like you did my dear half-brother,” Eamon said, his eyes glittering. “Can I not simply want to talk?”
“I’m not,” I said, “entirely convinced you’re not a hallucination. So, no. Go away. The medication should be kicking in now.”
“Eileen.” Eamon turned serious. “I need to pass along some information.”
I went still. “What?”
“The men your Charles is searching for, his strike team that was captured, they’re being moved. In three days. From the gatehouse where they’re being kept, to the keep in Northern Sun.” He paused deliberately. “The transfer might be the only time your Charles is able to break them free. The NVRA is particularly hated in fae lands, since their primary mission is to free slaves – you can expect a bloody, and long, death.”
I winced but then frowned. “I don’t understand,” I said slowly, “Why are you telling me this.”
“Because it benefits me, of course,” Eamon said. “Why else would I?” He laughed, and disappeared.
I punched the steering wheel again, uncaring of the horn that sounded over the still night. “Son of a bitch!” I shouted. I jerkily got out of the car. How, I wondered dismally, could I pass that intelligence along? Should I pass that intelligence along?
I walked back into headquarters, through the conference room, and into the war room. Anna and Garrett were standing next to the inert Sending machine, deep in conference. I took a deep breath and walked up to them. “Can I…talk to you?”
Anna looked at me with her eyebrows raised. “Of course, Eileen. What’s going on?” Garrett looked inquisitive as well.
I swallowed. “When I went to the embassy,” I said slowly, “Faolain’s half-brother, Eamon, made me an offer. He said - he said that he could transfer the bond Faolain had formed with me, to him. He said that if he didn’t transfer it, Faolain would be able to read my thoughts. But… now, Eamon can speak to me.”
Garrett frowned, and Anna pursed her lips.
“He talked to me, just now,” I said, my voice soft. “He said that the men of Strike Team Three are being transferred, in three days, from the guardhouse in Northern Sun to the keep. He said that might be the only chance that we’d have to get them back.” I stopped talking, feeling my voice fail.
Garrett and Anna exchanged a long glance.
“Wait in the conference room, please, Eileen,” Anna said. I nodded and turned on my heel, walking quickly into the conference room. “Don’t come back into the war room,” she called after me. I nodded, feeling miserable.
I waited for close to fifteen minutes for Anna and Garrett to come out. Rima returned from outside, smiling. She stopped when she saw my face. “Not ready to go back to logistics planning?” she asked sympathetically.
I managed a small smile back. “The powers that be,” I said, my voice small, “are discussing my fate.”
“They’re…“ Rima sat down and took my hands in hers. “Eileen,” she said, “what did you do?”
“I can’t talk about it,” I said miserably, “but I don’t think it is completely my fault.”
“Probably not.” Rima surveyed me. “I’ll wait with you,” she announced. “Keep you company. Let’s talk about something fun. Let’s - let’s talk about what you and Charles Talbot will do when he gets back.”
My face dropped even more. I felt tears come to my eyes.
“Oh, come on,” Rima said bracingly. “You have to think positive. He’ll be back, Eileen. You know he will.”
“Eileen?” The door to the war room cracked open, and Anna and Garrett walked out looking somber. Anna looked at Rima. “Rima, can you give us a minute?”
“Sure, boss,” Rima said, winking at me and jumping to her feet. She sauntered into the war room and shut the door behind her. Anna sat down next to me. Garrett remained standing.
“Eileen,” Anna said gently, “we’re deeply concerned.”
I frowned. “What do you mean?”
She sighed. “You say you’ve been taking your medicine - and we believe you,” she said quickly. “But now you’re seeing and hearing things out of thin air, Eileen. Are you sure - absolutely sure - this isn’t another hallucination?” Her eyes searched mine.
“No,” I admitted.
“Neither are we. Either the half-brother to the heir of the fae throne is connected to you or you’re hallucinating, Eileen. Either way…” She paused, face grave.“We’re going to have to relieve you of duty. We are not,” she added, “firing you. Please don’t see it that way. We want you to go get a medical evaluation and come back. And then, if you’re not hallucinating, we’ll have to figure out what to do - we can’t allow a security risk in the war room, either.”
I blinked back tears. “I understand. But what are you going to do about the message?”
Garrett and Anna exchanged another look. “We can’t tell you that,” Garrett said, his voice a soft rumble. “Eileen…” he exhaled. “You’ve done good work here. Now, you go, get well, and come back and do more.”
I rose, trembling. “You think I’m just hallucinating,” I said numbly.
“We don’t know,” Anna said gently. “That’s why you need to go to a doctor.” She remained seated, watching me, her eyes clear.
“I… thank you,” I said. “I’ll go.”
“See you soon, Eileen,” Garrett said.
“I’ll walk you to the door.” Anna rose. We walked together in silence to the parking lot, where she turned to me and pressed my hand.
“You have my cell phone number,” she said quietly. “Call me, if there’s even a hint of trouble. Understand?” I nodded, throat clogged.
“Eileen,” she said, looking at me closely, “we’re not abandoning you. We want you back, just as soon as you’re better. You understand that, don’t you?”
“I understand,” I said bitterly. I unlocked my car door and got in, banging it shut. I started it and peeled off, watching Anna’s face in the rear-view mirror as it disappeared in the distance.
“I can’t believe you told them,” Eamon said, appearing again. “You don’t know the difference between a hallucination and a magical vision?”
“I’m a brain-damaged, schizophrenic former Army lieutenant,” I said, gritting my teeth. “What would you do?”
Eamon shrugged. “I’m a half-human, power-hungry, fae, who should be prince of Northern Sun. I did warn you not to tell them about our bond.”
“How else was I supposed to pass on the information?”
“Pretend you discovered it somewhere. An informant. I’m sure you could’ve come up with something,” he said idly. “Well. Nevermind. What will you do now, Miss O’Donnell?” He looked at me, half-laughing.
I pulled onto the exit to Front Royal. “I am going to the Community Service Board Crisis Response. I’m telling them I’m hallucinating. I’m getting rid of you, once and for all.”
Eamon raised his eyebrows. “Not quite the response I was expecting. You know the clock is ticking for Strike Team Three.”
“So you say,” I snapped.
He shook his head. “I can’t believe” he said, “that I’m having this argument.” He paused and held up a finger. “You’re on medication.” He raised another finger. “I told you when I saw you that we’d be able to talk mind to mind.” He frowned. “Doesn’t that tell you something?”
I gripped the steering wheel. “I’m schizophrenic,” I said, my voice cracking. “I can’t trust myself.”
“And that right there is the problem!” Eamon exclaimed. “You have the chance to do something extraordinary, something meaningful, and you shy away from it! You can’t believe it was meant for you! Your co-workers can’t believe you’re capable of it! You’re ‘sick’”- made quotation marks in the air – “and thus, your capabilities, your experiences, have no meaning!” He paused. “Do what you want, Lieutenant O’Donnell,” he said quietly. “I’ve given you all I can.” He vanished.
I gripped the steering wheel and swore. Hauling the wheel, I pulled off to the side of the road, took out my cell phone, and called Charles. There was no response.
Not unexpected. I stared at the phone, drumming my fingers against the wheel. Charles was somewhere outside of Pennsylvania, near the guardhouse in Northern Sun—I knew that much. Strike Team Three was being moved in three days. It would take me nine hours to reach the Northern Virginia Rescue Association safe house in Middlebury, Vermont— but, I reminded myself, I couldn’t use it anymore. I’d have to cut straight across, around Pittsburgh, and enter Northern Sun from Pittsburgh. I swallowed. How would I find Charles once I was there? I remembered a dream I’d had before my kidnapping…Charles, lying in a forest clearing, surrounded by a globe of blue fire. Perhaps that was a true dream. I’d had them, before my brain injury; perhaps one had managed to make it through the blunt force trauma. It wasn’t much, but it was all I had.
