Azuri Fae - Urban Fantasy (Caledonia Fae)

by India Drummond

  When Alyssa walked in, she was carrying his blue and red striped rugby shirt. “You’re awake,” she said with a smile. “I got the stains out, but it hasn’t had time to dry yet. I wrung it out as best I could.”

  “You didn’t have to do that,” he said, embarrassed that the granddaughter of the conclave leader was doing his laundry. “Thank you.”

  She shrugged. “You needed a friend. We’re not all like her, Quinton. I would never send you away if you loved me the way you do her.”

  “Don’t,” he said sharply, then instantly regretted it. “I’m sorry, Alyssa. My head is killing me.” She sat on the edge of the bed, looking intently at him. He had to press on. “I don’t remember what happened yesterday. The alcohol, I guess, doesn’t agree with my magic. Did we…? Did I do something I should apologise for? Either way, I’m sorry.”

  “I like humans,” she said. “I know the kingdom fae are dismissive, and even the azuri sometimes think humans are lesser beings, especially the elders who remember the old ways. But your passion is startling. It would be easy to believe in lasting love with someone like you.” When he started to speak, she held up her hand. “Put your mind at ease. I find you attractive, I admit that. But I know my place. My grandfather would have my ears if I shamed him by dishonouring a guest.”

  He felt just as guilty at his relief as he did by the possibility of having slept with her but not remembering it. “Do I want to know why you had to wash my shirt?” he asked.

  Her quiet laughter was delightful. “No,” she said. “I’ll tell you sometime, but perhaps on a better day. By then you’ll laugh about the incident with me.”

  He couldn’t help but smile. “Okay. It’s a deal.”

  Suddenly, with a rush, he felt Eilidh’s presence again. He looked west, feeling her like a warmth in his mind. She was worried, and he wondered what had happened with Griogair that made her so anxious. He steeled himself for the anger she would feel when she learned he hadn’t left Skye as she’d told him to.

  He explained to Alyssa his plan to return to Oron with the four druids, and she gently reminded him she’d met one of them yesterday.

  “We should go now.” He hit redial on his phone and called Phillip back. “Hey, before we go downstairs, can I borrow a shirt?”

  Chapter 13

  Too many had come to see Prince Griogair. Every room and corridor was packed with faeries. Most had grown up in exile and were naturally curious about the faerie queen and her mate, and they all wanted to hear the news of the kingdom rift. Rumours spun about Eilidh’s communications with the queen, but the Higher Conclave kept the details to themselves. Hope and distrust ran in equal measure.

  Eilidh negotiated her way through the crowd. She half expected to discover Griogair in a limp puddle in the centre of it all. Instead, she found him in the west hall, the largest and least-used room in Oron’s large house, standing erect and looking every inch the royal. She recognised the weariness in his eyes but doubted anyone else would notice it.

  When he saw her, he extended a hand and said, “Ah, Eilidh. Is it time?”

  She didn’t know what he meant but followed his lead. “Yes, Your Highness.” The crowd turned to her, so she addressed them. “Prince Griogair is needed elsewhere. After he meets with the Higher Conclave, he will be available to speak with everyone again I’m sure.”

  The crowd quickly began to thin, and Griogair came to her side. She led him out, and people stepped aside as they approached. She took him to the garden, but found it full of faeries too, many she’d never seen before. Considering she had lived on Skye for six months, it surprised her. They walked toward the front of the house and continued down a path that led to the village. The way was lined with faeries who halted as the prince approached. They stared openly. Griogair said nothing beyond a wave and a casual word to a passer-by that gave him a slight nod of acknowledgement. He followed as though he knew exactly where they were going.

  That was when she caught sight of Alyssa. Eilidh hesitated, confused because she thought Munro was with the young faerie. Her internal senses told her Munro was still miles away.

  Eilidh stopped Alyssa, who was going in the opposite direction, back to the house. In a whisper, she said, “Please pass a message to your grandfather. I need to get Griogair to a place with fewer people. Tell him we’ll be at the stream where Oron and I counted rocks. He’ll know the place.” That had been one of Eilidh’s least favourite lessons. Thinking about it now, she couldn’t help but chastise herself for not having worked harder to learn from Oron.

  Alyssa’s eyes were locked on Griogair. Her human illusion slipped and the twisting peaks of her ears emerged.

  Eilidh shook her head. “I’m sorry. Your Highness, may I present Alyssa. She is Elder Oron’s granddaughter. Alyssa, this is Griogair, prince-consort to the Caledonian queen.”

  He inclined his head to the young faerie. “A pleasure to meet you. Thank you for your kind assistance.” He turned to Eilidh. “No longer consort to the queen. Just Griogair.”

  “I…of course…I…yes,” Alyssa said and bolted toward the house.

  Eilidh called after her, “You will tell your grandfather?” But Alyssa had gone too far away to hear, and Eilidh didn’t want to shout, since they were not alone.

  “I’m sorry. She’s young,” Eilidh said, but Griogair just smiled as though accustomed to that reaction.

  To escape the crowd, Eilidh turned and cut through the trees at full speed, and Griogair followed. She couldn’t help but wish she’d had the opportunity to ask Alyssa about Munro. So many things she wanted to know, but now wasn’t the time. After a few miles, they approached the stream, and Eilidh slowed to a walk.

  “Thank you,” he said. “I hadn’t expected the draining of my power. It’s affected me badly. I was having difficulty keeping up appearances. Your numbers and the interest in me came as a surprise. I half expected to be detained when I set foot on the island.”

  “What do you mean by no longer consort to the queen?” Eilidh asked, waving off his gratitude.

  A pained expression crossed his face, and his violet eyes darkened in the moonlight. “Cadhla made her wishes clear. I suppose killing her own mate was not a legacy she wished to be remembered by, so she severed our relationship before ordering my death.”

  Eilidh watched him in silence for a moment. He gave away no clue as to his feelings about the more personal aspects of past days’ incidents. “You’re still a prince,” Eilidh said, making herself comfortable on the grass near the stream. “I know you’re the cousin of Queen Zdanye of Tvorskane. So you are royalty no matter what Cadhla did.” She paused, thinking. “Will you go back there? To Tvorskane?”

  He shook his head. “I wouldn’t drag them into this. If they shelter me from Cadhla’s death order, it could be war, and my family’s kingdom is even smaller than Caledonia. It would cost them too dearly.”

  “Where will you go? You can’t stay here.” She quickly added, “I mean because of the enchantments. I can only access the Ways of Earth through my druid, so the loss is not keen. For you, it must be unbearable.”

  He sat beside her and sighed. “It’s disorienting, and no, I won’t stay here. I intend to go back to the Otherworld. To face Cadhla.”

  Eilidh stared in horror. “You can’t. She’ll kill you.”

  “You almost sound as though you care.”

  “Of course I care. The kingdom cannot be divided. We must find a way to heal the rift, to bring together those who follow the Father of the Azure and the Mother of the Earth. There must be a way.”

  “I have no specific plans,” he said, watching her closely. “However, I should speak to your conclave to see what assistance they would be willing to offer.”

  “Of course,” she said. “I didn’t mean to suggest otherwise. I’m merely a student here.” She laughed when she added, “And not a very good one at that.”

  “I know better,” Griogair said. “Cadhla said you were more powerful than you pretend
ed to be. I understand the subterfuge, but I’m afraid she saw through it.”

  “Subterfuge? I think the machinations of court have addled your thinking, Griogair,” she joked.

  “And there. We finally have it. You’ve called me by my name instead of my title. Who knew it would take being attacked and exiled before you thought me worthy of your friendship.”

  “Oh, be quiet,” she said with a smile, then looked up when a presence tickled her senses. “Someone’s coming.”

  “Your druid?”

  “No.” She stood to wait, and Griogair followed suit.

  Alyssa came through the trees, keeping her eyes firmly on Eilidh, as though consciously avoiding the prince’s gaze. “Grandfather wishes you to escort the prince, I mean our guest, to the village hall. The Higher Conclave has convened and is speaking with your druid and his companions now.”

  “Quinton?” she said. “What companions?” It embarrassed her that she didn’t know what was going on with him. They’d been apart less than a day, but the divide felt like miles.

  “When we went to Portree, we met with four other druids. He’s brought them here to…”

  “I know what they’re here for,” Eilidh snapped. She didn’t like to be reminded that when she’d sent Munro away, he’d chosen to be with Alyssa. It was her own fault, of course, but she didn’t like it. She turned to Griogair. “Your Highness?”

  He rolled his eyes. “I should make you nobility and name you Lady Eilidh so you can appreciate what it feels like to be known as a title rather than as an individual. In fact, consider it done. I hereby decree it.” He indicated the path. “After you, milady.”

  Eilidh replied tartly, “I’ll have to count myself lucky that you can’t do things like that anymore.” But inwardly she was enjoying herself. It pleased her that Griogair wanted to be friends, and their banter seemed light and easy, a relief from the real concerns that weighed on them.

  The trio headed for the village, and on the way, Eilidh noticed the larger than usual number of faeries, so she asked Alyssa quietly, “Who are all these fairies? I thought I knew all the azuri on Skye.”

  “I don’t know,” she said. “I heard they came through the kingdom gates all over and have been making their way here.”

  “They’re kingdom fae?” Eilidh said, glancing at Griogair, wondering what his reaction would be.

  “They came from the kingdoms, but not all from Caledonia. They’ve been travelling through the human realms as well, with more coming every hour since the prince arrived.” The trio entered the village hall. “The rest you will need to hear from the conclave, milady,” she said, her tone deferential.

  “Don’t you start,” Eilidh snapped.

  “But His Highness said…”

  “Oh, never mind.” She glared at Griogair, who laughed quietly to himself.

  Alyssa led them to the back, where the Higher Conclave met. When she opened the door, she announced, “Prince Griogair and Lady Eilidh.” She bowed her head slightly, and the room went silent. Eilidh wanted to pinch her.

  Alyssa stepped aside and Eilidh and Griogair moved forward together. Eilidh suddenly realised she should have sent him in first, and alone. Arriving together implied they were on equal footing. She cursed under her breath, because she could see the message wasn’t lost on the conclave, but rather than taking it to mean that Griogair was some average faerie, they now looked at her as though she were nobility. She wanted to explain the title was a joke, but she didn’t dare show disrespect to the conclave. Instead, she gave the same bow of deference to the conclave any student would. It infuriated her when Griogair did the same. He waited for the elders to address him before he spoke, another sign of humility.

  Oron broke the silence. “Prince Griogair, the conclave welcomes you to Skye. You will forgive the delay, but we have just learned that Quinton Munro has brought four more druids to us. Despite the difficult times, this has caused some excitement, as I’m sure you can imagine.”

  Only then did Eilidh allow herself to look to the place where Munro and the other druids sat. She saw the hurt and confusion in his deep blue eyes, but she couldn’t address it now. Taking Oron’s earlier lesson to heart, she worked on separating his hurt from her own, trying to see it as a distant thing. She smiled at the other druids: Douglas, Rory, Phillip and Aaron. She’d met them before, of course, but not often. They seemed relaxed and not as fearful as she might expect. It gave her hope to think they may want to stay and bond with her people.

  Griogair also nodded to the five druids. “Your power is growing,” he said, turning to Oron and the rest of the conclave members. “And your numbers.” He gestured to the door.

  “We are a peaceful colony,” said Dalyna, one of the conclave members. “We are not now and never have been a threat to your kingdom.”

  “I have no kingdom,” Griogair said. “I am merely a refugee, seeking temporary asylum, grateful for the faith you showed in taking me in.”

  Dalyna leaned forward, her black eyes narrowing. “This could be a ruse. Will you ask us to put down the enchantments so you will be more comfortable here? How do we know you’re telling the truth?”

  “He is,” Munro interrupted.

  The entire conclave looked at him, and even Eilidh and Griogair turned in surprise.

  “How do you know this?” Dalyna asked.

  “Because of his son.” Munro nodded to Griogair. “You’d best tell them the truth,” he said. “All of it.”

  Griogair turned to the conclave. “I couldn’t agree more.” He took his time and told them about Tràth, including the long-held secret that the heir to the throne was gifted in the Path of Stars.

  Chapter 14

  Munro watched as the conclave questioned Griogair for hours, but he seemed relaxed and comfortable. The prince was uncommonly frank and open, revealing the extent of the queen’s obsession. She planned to purge the Otherworld of all who followed the Path of Stars. She’d only pretended to consider the reunification of the kingdom because of the pressure caused by Eilidh’s rising popularity, as stories of her saving the kingdom spread.

  The meeting came to an abrupt halt when someone brought word to Oron. The messenger slipped in and whispered into the elder’s ear.

  Oron’s brow wrinkled and his face creased into a deep frown. “Prince Griogair,” he said. “Do you know a faerie named Mira?”

  Griogair blinked in surprise. “Of course. My bodyguard and friend.”

  “She was brought here by one of our earthbound children. They just arrived.” When the prince looked confused, Oron went on to explain. “Not all of our offspring are gifted in the Path of Stars. Our enchantments mean they would be impotent and miserable here. So we foster them with willing allies in the kingdom who raise them as their own. When they come of age, some patrol the borderlands nearest us, helping to protect our colony as they can, trading, sending messages, whatever is necessary.”

  Griogair nodded, his brow furrowed slightly. “May I see Mira?”

  Oron nodded. “You should go quickly. She is severely injured.”

  Griogair stood, just as another faerie entered the room. She was taller than most and had fine, sculpted features. She looked shaken and ill, so Munro assumed she must be a kingdom faerie. “Forgive me, elders,” she said, addressing the conclave. She turned her sad eyes to Griogair. “Your Highness,” she said, bowing. “I am Sennera. Mira…Mira is dead.”

  The prince’s features tightened. “Show me,” he said.

  Munro felt a wave of rolling earth power surge as the prince left the room. The rush of power fought for a moment against the enchantment. He turned to the other druids, but they hadn’t noticed it. He had never been affected by the enchantment that prevented the faeries’ connection to the Ways of Earth. He could sense something was different here on Skye, but because he could tap into his limited abilities the same here as anywhere else, he never thought much more of it.

  “It is nearly sunrise,” Oron said. “We should allow
our guests to rest.” He looked at the druids and smiled. “Thank you for coming. You have arrived, as you see, on a very busy night. But we have not forgotten you, and your presence brings joy in dark and uncertain times.”

  Munro felt his friends shifting uncomfortably beside him, unaccustomed to so much attention and praise. He’d had the chance to introduce them to the conclave before Eilidh and Griogair arrived and to reiterate his conditions that none be forced to bond if he didn’t want to. Somehow, he became the official go-between, and they established that he would oversee the introductions. It seemed every faerie on Skye—several hundred even before the huge influx of faeries from abroad—wanted the chance to be considered for bonding with a druid.

  “Munro,” Oron said, “I’m afraid my home, while large, is not adequate to accommodate four such important guests, five, counting yourself, of course. As the leader of the Higher Conclave, I am obliged to host the prince.”