Relics and Runes Anthology

by Heather Marie Adkins

  This truly had been the most bizarre day of her life.

  “Are you ready?”

  Arianna’s sweet face looked up at Rori, excitement and expectation lighting her midnight eyes.

  “For what?”

  Without answering, the princess turned away and scurried a few feet to another hallway. Five paces in, she ducked into the stone. Upon closer inspection, Rori saw it was a small doorway. She pushed it open and crouched low, hampered by the bulk in her arms, to scoot through. A thick tapestry folded over the door and she pushed it aside with her shoulder. Once clear of the fabric, she stood to her full height and adjusted the burden in her arms.

  “Rori, it’s a pleasure to see you again.” Laughter edged Queen Eirlys’ voice.

  “Your Majesty.” Rori curtseyed as well as she could with the caskets cradled in her arms.

  “Let me take those from you.” The queen reached out, her slender hands gripping the boxes. A moment of hesitation made Rori clutch them to her chest. “Rori?”

  “I’m sorry, Your Majesty. It’s been a topsy-turvy day and I’m not at all certain what I’m seeing or hearing is true.”

  Eirlys released the caskets and backed away. “I understand you’ve had quite the adventure. Come, sit with me and let’s see if we can ease your mind.”

  Still wary, Rori looked from Arianna to Eirlys. It was all as it should be, but something was off. A smell or a touch, perhaps even a vision at the perimeter of her sight, but there was something that caused Rori to use extreme caution. This could be an enchantment, one meant to lure her into a state of compliance. If nothing else made sense, one thing was clear—Acelyne would do whatever it took to get the amulets.

  As she made her way to a table, Rori took in her surroundings, recognizing the room as Queen Eirlys’ private sitting room. The only way Acelyne would know what was in this room was to have been there herself.

  Or she used Rori’s memories against her.

  Acelyne had already proved herself a powerful sorceress. Making this elaborate of an illusion wouldn’t be difficult. Disquiet clung to Rori’s thoughts as she contemplated the scene. It was the same unease that had settled over her in the forest.

  “Aurora, please sit.” Arianna patted the chair next to her.

  The table was set for four. Tea had yet to be poured, but cakes and biscuits rested on pretty plates.

  “I’ve interrupted a meeting.”

  “One that can be rescheduled. This is more important.” Queen Eirlys sat opposite Rori, her chin resting on steepled fingers. “Tell me what happened.”

  “I’m not—” The words stuck in Rori’s throat. This was too easy. The queen waited, her lavender eyes soft and approachable. Princess Arianna sipped her tea, her legs swinging beneath her skirts. Too normal. Too…something. “I need to use the loo.”

  Clutching the boxes close to her chest, Rori rose. Five doors led from the sitting room to various parts of the palace and Rori chose one she’d never been through. It led to a darkened room. Tall, rounded windows looked out onto a twilight field.

  “Who are you?” A woman, with hair of silver and skin that sparkled as if stars rested just below the surface, floated not more than a foot in front of her.

  “I, uh, who are you?”

  Her silver hair fanned out and for a moment, Rori thought she saw dragon’s wings.

  “I’m Taryn.” She glanced at the walls and windows. “Where are we?”

  Outside, the view changed from night to day. Faeries strolled the gardens. “We’re at Queen Eirlys’ palace.” Rori should’ve been alarmed or nervous, but she was neither. This woman, whoever she was, didn’t set off Rori’s defenses, nor did she feel as if she were an enemy. Quite the opposite. Rori stretched her hands to fully cover her wooden charges, but the woman wasn’t interested in them.

  “What a curious place.” Taryn drifted to the window and placed her hands upon the glass. The scene shifted to show steep cliffs and a turquoise sea. “This is the Crystal Palace in Talaith. Who is Queen Eirlys?”

  Rori’s head throbbed and her throat scratched with the effort of swallowing. Perhaps she’d had it all wrong and this was the ruse to lull her into complacency. Or to drive her to madness.

  “Are you the enchantress?” She gripped the bag tighter, pressing the caskets painfully against her breasts. “You’ll not get these.”

  The woman called Taryn turned to face her, a smile of reassurance on her lips. “I promise you, I am no enchantress.” Her eyes rested on the caskets. When they returned to Rori’s, sadness spiraled to their depths. “What is this place? Who would do that to those poor souls?”

  The walls dissipated around them until they stood on nothing and were surrounded by the night sky. A single tear tracked its way down Taryn’s cheek.

  “What kind of sorcery is this? Who are you really?” The throbbing in Rori’s head stopped, but her heart continued beating at an alarming rate.

  “I am not a sorceress, either. I am Darennsai.” Taryn reached out and Rori tightened her already death-like grip on the boxes. “You’re hurting her. Relax, Rori.”

  Her arms slackened, as if obeying Taryn’s command. She opened her mouth to protest, but stopped as Taryn reached inside her jacket to retrieve the sleeping faerie. A fierce protectiveness fought through her stunned silence. “Put her back.” The words were a snarled command that the woman ignored.

  “I’ll not hurt her.” Still curled into a tight ball, the fae’s gossamer wings vibrated with Taryn’s touch. A small gasp came from the strange woman.

  “She’s…my daughter. But how can this be?” Tears swam in her eyes, making them look like polished blue marble.

  “She was trapped with me in the forest. I didn’t know who she was.” Panic raced through Rori’s blood. If the woman thought she’d had something to do with her daughter’s internment in the amulet, this could be bad. Breathe, Rori. Use your training.

  “But you do know her, Rori. This is Princess Arianna.”

  “What? No. I just left the princess with her mother—” Her head swiveled to the door that was no longer there. Sickness churned in her belly. “Was that an illusion?”

  Taryn nodded and placed her lips upon the still sleeping princess. “I’m not sure what’s happening, but this is your present and my future.” She carefully returned Arianna to Rori’s pocket. “Where did you say your queen’s palace is?”

  “In Faerie. The Seelie court.”

  “You’re fae?” Another gasp, followed by a wide smile. “Of course.”

  “Of course, what?”

  “Quiet your mind, Rori MacNair of Faerie. Use your ShantiMari to know what is true and what is not.” Taryn placed her hand over Rori’s heart. “And this. Trust your heart, young one. It will always lead you true.”

  A tingling, like when a limb has reawakened from a brief sleep, curled itself around her heart. “What are you doing to me?”

  “You’re stronger than you think. You have great power, but you’ve locked yourself away from it.” Taryn’s eyes widened, then her brows pinched. “You need his help, Rori. Accept it freely and you will defeat the enchantress of illusion.”

  The stars began to fade and Taryn removed her hand from Rori’s chest.

  “Wait! Whose help?”

  “The elf, Therron. Trust him, Rori.”

  “What’s ShantiMari?”

  Taryn was little more than a shadow drifting to nothingness.

  “Your power. You call it magic, but it is so much more. Protect the princess, mi carae. Faerie depends upon it.”

  The room spun with terrifying speed, turning from the night sky to bright white to inky blackness. The air stilled and Rori trembled uncontrollably. No training could prepare her for what had just happened. Hell, even she wasn’t sure what had happened.

  Rough hands gripped her face, followed by even rougher lips crushing against her own. Searing heat ripped down her body, turning her insides to nothing but gooey bits. How long had it been since anyone ha
d kissed her? Apparently too long.

  Wait. Who was kissing her? She couldn’t see anything in the darkness.

  “Rori, open your eyes,” Therron whispered.

  She did and there, standing in her kitchen, was the elf. He held her face between his strong hands. Worry danced in his eyes, followed by cautious relief.

  “I guess that’s better than a slap to the face.”

  “I reckon it is.”

  “Hmmm, I’m thinking one more kiss will remove all traces of the enchantress.”

  A wicked grin lifted the corners of his lips. “Medicinal purposes only?”

  A rush of adrenaline spiked her heartbeat as she nodded. Therron closed the gap between them, his lips seeking hers, cautious, unsure. She opened herself to him, delighting in the feel and taste of his tongue. This time when the room spun, it wasn’t from any sort of illusion—it was from her own wicked thoughts and desires. Whatever the strange woman Taryn had done to her opened a magic she’d not known existed. It swirled and coalesced into a protective bubble around the pair.

  From far away, Rori heard the frustrated wailing of the enchantress. Acelyne’s spell dissolved and the world became clearer, crisper.

  Therron’s body shuddered against hers, upsetting the boxes still in her grip. His hands went from her face to stroke her hair, and down her back to hold her firmly in his grasp. She held the amulets, and Therron held her. It was as it should be.

  Somehow, she knew this to be true. Never in her life had she allowed anyone to take this kind of liberty with her person, but it was right. Rori ended the kiss reluctantly. A silent war waged in her mind, surprising in its intensity. She gladly would’ve stayed in Therron’s arms all day, but they needed to get the amulets to Queen Eirlys.

  “Arianna,” Rori whispered.

  “The Seelie princess? What about her?”

  “If the vision had been real, Eirlys would’ve been frantic to have her daughter returned. We must hurry.”

  “Where are we going?” He still held her, his hands spanning her lower and upper back.

  “To the Seelie court. We must get these to the queen.”

  As if stung by an asp, Therron lurched backward. “No, we have to take them to Midna at the Unseelie court.”

  “I’ll take them.” Tug lumbered into view, his arms outstretched.

  Rori tightened her grip. “No one is taking them anywhere until we sort this out. Who are you working for?” She leveled a gaze at Therron. “And why do they want these?”

  Therron shook his head in answer. “I was hired to capture Acelyne. Why? I don’t know.” At Rori’s glare, he continued. “I swear on my honor as a thief, that’s all I was told. I had no knowledge of any pendants or kidnappings. I’ve only been in Faerie for a few months. Your politics are your own. I needed cash…there was a job…you see where this is going, right?”

  Tug wavered, as if still under a spell. “Ye told me ye’d kill her if I said anything.”

  “I was talking about Acelyne, you dolt.”

  “Don’t call him that.” Low enough only Therron could hear, she added, “Perhaps you should kiss him, too. To break his spell, naturally.”

  The look of horror that crossed Therron’s face was enough to make Rori laugh out loud.

  “I’m sensing some reluctance on your part, mysterious elf named Therron who claims to know nothing of Faerie politics.”

  “Sarcasm?”

  Again, Rori’s laughter filled the room. It had been ages since this cottage had heard the sound of unfettered lightness. Damn, it felt good to laugh. To let the bubbles inside her belly free and not care who was watching or listening. Being a spy definitely had its drawbacks.

  “Make him a cup of thornbarrow root and lemon whisp. It should clear the enchantment from his mind. More or less.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “Sort out what we should do with these. Tug, sit down.” Tug situated his large body until it was hanging off the stool she’d indicated. “Drink what Therron gives you. Don’t argue—do as told.”

  Tug nodded miserably. She could only imagine the war going on inside his head. The enchantress was powerful, indeed, but there were some things magic couldn’t erase. Love and loyalty, for starters. She touched her lips, hoping Therron’s kiss would be enough to thwart any further attempts to manipulate her thoughts. If not, they’d all be needing more than a simple concoction of herbs.

  Once Therron had Tug’s brew made, she set the caskets carefully on a side table. She’d not told Therron about the sleeping princess in her pocket and wasn’t sure she would. The woman named Taryn had said she could trust the elf, but Rori had learned a long time ago trust worked both ways, and only when earned.

  She spun a dagger between her fingertips, thinking. If they took the pendants to Midna, perhaps she could find out whether Cian was still at the Unseelie court. But then Midna would have the pendants and all the fae trapped inside. Again, the question of why amulets and why the fae nagged at her thoughts. Who would do this? To what end?

  “We need to see Meg.” Tug’s scratchy voice pulled Rori from her thoughts.

  “Mad Meg?” The offensive nickname sprang from her lips before she could stop it. Some folks called her Mad Meg, others Miracle Meg, and some referred to her as Mama Meg. To Rori, she’d always been more like the latter. Why the worst name of the three came to mind, she wasn’t sure. She liked Meg, genuinely as a person and not just because she was a wicked good healer.

  “People shouldn’t call her that. She’s not mad, just…you know…odd.” Tug’s baritone voice held a softness she’d never heard.

  Odd wasn’t half off describing the witch. Even so, Tug had a good idea. Meg might be able to release the fae from their glass prisons. She lived alone in the woods, a good five or so miles from where they were now. It would take what was left of the morning to walk there. At the very least, Meg could help with a solution to Tug’s attachment to the enchantress. By Rori’s reckoning, the brew Therron made would only counter some of the effects. When it wore off, Tug would be drawn back into Acelyne’s spell. And then he might give their location away and they could be trapped. Her gut rippled with sourness. She’d never let that happen. Not again.

  “People say yer odd, too. Does that mean yer mad, Rori?”

  Was Tug actually insulting her? “What did you add to that mixture, Therron?”

  He shrugged and idly watched her and Tug, a devious smile teasing the corners of his lips.

  “Whatever. Let me put these in a bag, then we can go. Wrap some of this food for the walk. Tug, stay here with Therron.” Rori didn’t wait for an answer. Instead, she gathered the pendants and took the stairs two at a time to the landing. In a cupboard, she found a sturdy leather bag that fit all of the boxes. She touched her breast pocket and whispered, “Soon,” to the sleeping faerie. The poor lass. She had no idea whether the princess had been in the amulet before her, or whether she’d been placed inside after Rori, but she did know it should never happen again. No fae deserved to be captured.

  A ripple of anger vibrated from her sternum. Whoever was doing this was vile. It didn’t matter why or for what reason, they—whoever “they” were—now became Rori’s enemy. In all her missions, she’d never let emotions attach themselves to the job, but this was personal. She and the other fae needed to be avenged. She’d find whoever was responsible and kill them.

  She descended the stairs slower than she’d ascended them, watching her footing with each placement of her boot. By the time she reached the bottom, Therron and Tug waited for her by the front door. A canvas bag hung from Tug’s left arm. By the looks of it, he’d packed all the breakfast remains, and the entire contents of her cold box. Their breakfast dishes had been washed and put away in the brief time she’d been upstairs. Tug. He didn’t have the same aversion to magic that Rori had. Bless his overgrown heart.

  “Right. Let’s go then. Tug, you lead the way.”

  Try as she might, she couldn’t shake th
e feeling they were walking into a trap. If it was Acelyne’s intention to get them to leave Rori’s cottage, she’d succeeded. And that made the three of them easy targets.

  7

  They strode through the narrow streets, past the town square with its ancient well with a metal pulley attached to an arch. The same well Rori almost fell down when she was a young girl because a boy from a neighboring village dared her to see what was at the bottom. Thankfully, Cian had been there to stop her from going through with it. From what she’d learned since, the well was at least three stories deep. She gave a silent nod to the well, a permanent reminder that just because someone dares you to do something, you aren’t a coward if you walk away. Cian had taught her that. It had been a hard lesson to honor, but in the end, she realized the boy daring her was nothing more than a bully. When she turned the dare back on him, he’d scoffed and called her names, but he refused to get near the well. Bullies, she learned, were filled with bluff, but no substance.

  Of all the towns of Faerie, Cere was her favorite. Full of fanciful houses that looked like they were made of marshmallow fluff and licorice ropes, they’d always represented a simpler kind of life. She and Cian were raised mostly by their gran since their parents’ jobs kept them either out of Faerie or at the palace much of the time. Rori never resented her parents, instead she had vast amounts of pride for her mum and dad. They jobs were important to the queen and to Faerie. Besides, the palace would’ve been too confining for her and Cian. Cere was the perfect place for them to grow up. It allowed the right amount of freedom for them to discover who they were meant to become.

  The trio slipped between the two tallest buildings in Cere, the town hall and inn, without incident, but Rori kept vigilant all the same. Even Therron was nervous, if his constant twitching of fingertips toward his sword was any indication. Rori eyed the sword with closer scrutiny. She was almost certain he’d not been wearing it when he entered her house, and she didn’t recall him putting it on outside. Unless, he had been wearing it, but used elf magic to hide it.