For an answer, I pushed him onto his back and crawled on top of him. He smiled wickedly as I reached down between us, thrusting my hand into his trousers, molding it around the hard, hot flesh there. Eyes wide and bright, he eased his trousers down over his hips. The breath hissed between his teeth as I guided him and eased just his silken tip inside me.
We both took long, shuddering breaths, and I spread and lifted my wings, letting my weight draw me down over him. He exhaled and took hold of my backside, pulling our bodies snug against each other.
Then he begun to thrust, and sensation erupted through me—a sudden fountain of heat that made my muscles quiver.
I closed my eyes, murmuring, “Freyja help me, it feels so good.”
I expected him to joke or tease. Don’t sound so surprised. But his hand came to my cheek, and I opened my eyes. “Better than good,” he said. “It feels right.”
Flexing my hips, I began to rock my body against his. His eyes closed and he moaned, fingers digging into my hips.
Pressing my palms against his stomach, my upper arms squeezing my breasts and deepening the cleft between them, I rocked harder against him. My head fell back and I let out a moan.
“You warned against delay,” he said breathlessly, hands moving up to cup and roll my breasts. “At this rate, you needn’t worry.”
I smiled, rising as high on my knees as I could without losing him, and I ground down hard, gratified by his sudden shout. He grabbed my hips and took control of our rhythm, using my body as a pleasure thing, driving into me and forcing the friction he so desperately needed. My vision swam, and the hot pulsing inside me suddenly released with shattering violence. Liquid sensation burst in my abdomen, splashing over my hips and buttocks and up my belly to my breasts. He froze, and I clenched my muscles around him for the space of two heartbeats. His body tensed and he let out a long, shuddering groan.
I fell across his chest, and his arms wrapped around me. Through the open window drifted the gentle noises of the stream outside, and I could almost forget these moments of peace were stolen and could not last. I raised the tip of a finger, circling one of Finvara’s flat, brown nipples. He made a sleepy, contented sound and tightened his embrace.
Less than a week ago, I had wanted him dead.
The reason for what we had just done, beyond the obvious, recalled itself to my attention like a strike of summer lightning.
Doro.
The fairy steward’s face came into my thoughts, and along with it came a feathery voice: So you’ve betrayed us all.
I sat straight up.
“Koli?” said Finvara, alarmed.
I held out my hand to stay him.
Far Dorocha? I addressed the voice in my head.
I hear you, Your Majesty.
Come to me at once!
I’m afraid that’s impossible.
My heart sank. Had we left something unfinished? I had worried the Christian ritual would not be respected by such an old spell, yet Doro had said the vows and the consummation were all that mattered.
What do you mean? I demanded.
I have vowed never again to answer to the whims of either queen or goddess.
I didn’t understand this. Was he bound, or was he not? And what did he mean by “goddess”?
After Queen Eithne escaped Faery and married another, he continued, I knew that one day the rake would take another wife. How I have worked since then to undo the magic, but it’s not in my power. So I conceived a plan to circumvent it by other means.
And that plan has failed, I pointed out, so how is it you are free?
His light laughter brushed across my thoughts. In the end it was the simplest of spells. I owe thanks to the rake himself for giving me the idea.
Tell me, I demanded, growing impatient. Ulf would certainly be coming soon, and I began to suspect Doro of stalling.
Finvara sometimes enchanted women and locked them in towers, he continued. He would cast spells on their prison to prevent any other magic but the enchantment from penetrating. So here I am, safe from you, in your own chamber.
I froze. I could feel Finvara’s worried gaze on me. “Koli?” he repeated.
You mean you’ve sealed yourself in my tower with magic? I asked.
It never occurred to me such an ancient spell might be defeated by simple fairy magic.
What will happen now?
I counted heartbeats waiting, but no answer came.
Doro!
“Koli!”
My attention had been focused intensely inward, and it took me a moment to order my thoughts and form speech.
“Doro has figured out a way to avoid our control,” I told Finvara. “He won’t help us.”
The king muttered a curse. “How do you know this?”
“I can reach him with my thoughts.” I stood up and found my dress, and he helped me to put it on. I repeated what Doro had told me.
Finvara listened, his frown deepening. “I know the spell he means—I have used it.”
I couldn’t help wondering what he meant by this. I knew his ancestor’s reputation, but had my new husband also trapped women in towers? He had certainly put me in one, though as far as I knew he had never tried to control me with magic.
“The spell may have freed him from us,” he continued, “but I assume the spell’s limitations apply even to him.”
“It will fade?”
Finvara shook his head. “It’s more like a magic block than a spell. It will work until he removes it. He won’t be able to leave the tower without losing its protection, though. And he won’t be able to cast spells that affect anything outside the chamber.”
This was good news, yet . . .“The grandfather clock in my chamber leads to his ship in the Gap,” I said. “It’s how he took me. Will he be able to escape that way?”
“Aye, Treig told me about the clock. He can leave, but I don’t imagine his spell will continue to protect him.”
I nodded, and I issued another command, though I had no idea whether it could have any effect. Should you leave my chamber by any means, you must come to me at once.
After a moment, his reply came. You will change your mind about Finvara, and when you do, I will be waiting. Kill him, and I will come to you. Everything between us will be as before.
“Koli?” said Finvara, ducking his head to catch my attention.
“I’ve commanded him to come to me if he leaves the tower.”
“What did he say?”
“He said if I killed you he would come now.”
For a moment the king just stared at me. A smirk tugged up one corner of my lips, and Finvara gave a hearty laugh. It pleased me to a ridiculous degree when I did something that amused him—it always seemed to catch him completely off guard.
“Doro said something I didn’t understand,” I continued. “He said that he would ‘never again answer to the whims of queen or goddess.’ Is there a goddess he serves?”
The king rubbed his lips together as he thought about this, and it had a strange effect on me—I wanted to taste his mouth again.
“Lady Meath,” he replied, “the wife of my cousin Edward, once told me the Gap gates were created by the Morrigan’s alchemists. That must be who he means.”
I recalled what Doro had told me about the immortals who had asked him to create and eventually circumvent the seal between Faery and Ireland. “The Morrigan? She is your goddess of war?”
“And a nasty piece of work. The Battle of Ben Bulben would have ended much quicker—with less loss of life—had she not interfered.” He shook his head. “Though she also helped us, so it’s not straightforward. Lady Meath understands it far better than I.”
The Morrigan sounded a lot like Loki. I had no direct experience with gods. Odin, Freyja, Thor—our Icelandic gods had been stranded after the giants
destroyed the Bifrost, the rainbow bridge between Earth and Asgard, their home. Loki, as far as anyone knew, remained imprisoned beneath Iceland, and was blamed for our frequent tremors. Many of the Hidden Folk—and many Icelanders, truth be told—still prayed to the old gods, and made offerings, but no oracle had heard their voices for centuries.
If Finvara was right about Doro and the Morrigan, had the fairy steward somehow escaped her control as well? Would she be blocked by the simple spell he had used against us?
she most certainly would not.
I cried out and clamped my hands over my ears. Yet the loud and powerful voice had come from inside my own head. My whole body shook from the shock of it, and I felt like snow was sliding down my back.
The king reached out to steady me. “What is it?” he demanded.
Was this some new attack of Doro’s? Could it be a distraction, intended to keep us here?
I looked at the king. “We must go before Ulf comes.”
and where will you go, little lost elf maid?
“Who are you?” I cried, my hands coming again to the sides of my head.
“Blast, Koli, what is happening?” demanded the king.
let him come, child—your wolf lover. let him take you to your demon of a father. knock ma is exactly where you need to go.
They’ll kill Finvara!
not if you let me help you.
What do you mean?
come to me and i’ll show you. it would be a mistake to tell your husband. he will prevent it, and then he will certainly die.
But how can I—
Pain stabbed across my temples, and I thought my head would split open. The new voice was much stronger than Doro’s. And it kept changing, sounding like a child one moment, then a woman, then a crone. I wasn’t even sure it was all the same speaker. Strangely, an image of the ship in the sky over Knock Ma came into my mind, but then dissolved as a crackling energy raced down my spine.
The voice was too much for me, its owner too powerful. I would agree to almost anything to stop it.
Do you swear to me that you can save him?
together we can.
A sharp knock at the door pulled me out of the painful exchange. Treig burst into the room. “There are warriors approaching, sire.”
Yes! I finally agreed. I’ll do what you want!
Finvara slipped an arm around my waist. “Let’s go.”
“Wait!” I said, resisting him.
“Koli, what—?” His eyes were wild with urgency.
I knew that a dark power had been at work in my head, and I even had a guess at the source. Such power was dangerous—but it could be channeled and used.
But Finvara—my Finvara, Duncan O’Malley—he was a ship’s captain, youngest son of an earl, and a hero of the Battle of Ben Bulben. It was true that if he knew what had been proposed—and especially by whom—he would never agree.
I gripped his arms. “Do you trust me?”
“Aye, but you’re scaring me! Who have you been with in your head? Doro again?”
He was trying hard to believe in me, I could see it in his eyes. “Someone who can help us,” I said. “We have no choice, husband. My father will find us anywhere we go.” It was no more than the truth. He would hunt us down like animals.
“Tell me!” Panicking, the king began to be angry, and his voice boomed.
“They’re upon us, sire!” cried Treig. She turned, raising her pike and blocking the doorway. I heard the whoops of my father’s warriors approaching.
I looked at my husband, but I couldn’t bring myself to answer him aloud.
The Morrigan.
LEAP OF FAITH
Finvara
“Treig, lower your weapon,” I ordered. “Don’t give them an excuse to kill you.”
I could hear the elves calling to each other in their own tongue. Koli stepped away from me, retrieving the bow I had given her from its resting place beside the door. Ulf’s weapon lay on the floor beside it.
“Do you think that’s wise?” I asked her. There was no point shouting at her again—it was clear she’d made some kind of decision. Besides that I had agreed to trust her—I was doing my level best.
“It’s necessary, husband.” She nocked an arrow, pulled back the string, and swung the bow so it pointed at me.
She was not the first woman to do such a thing to me after a truce that involved lovemaking, though she was unquestionably the most lethal. She was also the first to sink my heart by doing it.
Ulf strode through the door, taking stock of the situation. He spoke to Koli in Elvish, she replied, and they began an animated dialogue. Elves moved to seize Treig, but Koli gave an order and they let her go. Then Koli and Ulf resumed their heated exchange.
I hoped, and almost believed, that it was a trick to get Ulf to trust her. Yet why had she refused to tell me who had offered to help her? I couldn’t help feeling it had to be Doro. What could have induced her to trust him again?
If I die, the throne is hers.
I squeezed my eyes closed against the unwelcome doubts, and when the warriors came to bind my wrists, I threw one punch to live up to my hot-headed reputation before I let them take me. They used a fragile looking chain to bind me, but I could feel its magic—forged into the metal itself. I would have bet my ship that its purpose was to block its captive from using magic. I tested it anyway.
Wisp’s light, burn bright, elfin charm against the night. Nothing happened.
Ulf and Koli had finished their conversation, and the elf warrior came over to me. He looked me up and down, smirked, and then swung his massive fist. My bride’s velvety voice was the last thing I heard.
I woke shivering, and everything hurt. Not just my jaw, which had a lump the size of a lemon, but my back, my neck, and most of my joints. Surveying the hard lines and shadows of my surroundings, I surmised that I’d been dragged down the stairs to the dungeon and left for dead.
But they haven’t killed me, and I likely have Koli to thank for that.
Groaning, I pushed myself up with my bound hands and took inventory. I’d been locked in a cell, and in the open area out front, I could see the pile of “little machines.”
I closed my eyes, and the specters of doubt rose again in my mind.
Somewhere close by, there was a steady drip, drip, drip, and I realized I was parched. I looked around to see if water had been left for me. Suddenly the door to the tower swung open and I heard feet descending the stairs. Whoever it was carried a wisp light—a green flame danced above an open palm—and I couldn’t make out a face until the visitor reached the bottom of the stairs.
Koli.
She smiled at me, which caused a wave of relief to wash through me—but it was not a smile I had seen before. It was cool and brittle.
“Husband,” she said, and I didn’t like her tone any more than her smile.
“Are you all right?” I asked, moving closer to the bars of my cage.
Her dark eyes moved over my face, lingering on my swollen jaw. I noticed that she was freshly washed and finely dressed. She wore a wine-colored backless gown with bell sleeves—the laces at the neck of the bodice were loose, and I found my gaze settling on the curves of her breasts. Her hair had been elaborately plaited and wound atop her head. With her glossy wings and other finery, she looked like a dark angel. My dark angel.
“I am well,” she said.
“You are exquisite,” I corrected.
Her expression didn’t change as she came a few steps closer. I noticed that she carried the mechanical raven under one arm. Stopping beside the heap of oddities, she set it on top.
“I’m sorry,” she continued, her gaze resting on the bird, “I know this place is not comfortable.”
At first I wasn’t sure she was speaking to me. I glanced again at the stairs, checking whether a
nyone had followed her down. It looked like we were alone.
“What is happening?” I asked in a low voice. “Does your father—”
She faced me, her wisp light throwing a green cast over her features. “You will be allowed to live.”
This was delivered in a dry and even tone, like a pronouncement, and I searched her face for any accompanying emotion.
“That is good news,” I said tentatively.
“I persuaded Alfakonung that you are far more valuable alive.”
Alfakonung. Her father. Something unpleasant rolled in my belly. “Aye?”
She nodded. “I will rule in your place. Alfakonung need not grant any terms or honor any alliance. He may simply command me, and I will command Doro.”
“The druid has come out of hiding, then?” My voice had gone flat. They had let me live, yet I had begun to feel that stones were being piled on my grave.
She offered another glacial smile. “He knows he can’t stay in the tower forever. We’ll coax him out soon enough.”
I began to fret in earnest. If this was an act, could she not give me some sign? Show some hint of emotion?
It’s not her nature, I reminded myself. She has always been guarded.
And yet my heart sank further. She was among her own people again. She had fresh reminders of age-old bonds and loyalties. What was I to her in that long history but the fascination of a few moments? A fool who laughed and trusted too easily.
I looked to the top of the stairs, where the door stood open. Night had fallen, but I was pretty sure no one else was waiting there.
Koli turned then and walked back toward the stairway. Either she was playing her part to perfection, or she had checkmated both Doro and me in one fell swoop. I had scorned her, and he had tried to use her. She had been brought up in the court of the Elf King, and we were but a pair of Irishmen with a few tricks up our sleeves.
She raised her foot to the first step and hesitated. “I wanted you to know that you won’t be harmed. Although you will have to remain here for the time being.”
She continued up the stairs, and I called to her softly. “Koli.”
The Raven Lady Page 18
