Relics and Runes Anthology

by Heather Marie Adkins

  “Bigger than Faerie.” A snort and shake of his head were followed by a chuckle. “You’ve got that, all right. But Rori, we’re not in competition. Stop trying to best me and just be you. Be Rori MacNair, not Cian MacNair’s little sister.” He held her chin between his thumb and forefinger, his gaze steady. “You are, as the humans are wont to say, a total badass. I’m proud to call you kin.”

  The intensity of his stare staggered her. His words cut straight to her heart. If she was honest with herself, she knew his words were true. She’d been in a silent competition with her brother for most of her life. Everything she did was tagged with what she thought he’d think of her. To hear him say he was proud of her meant everything. Tears stung her eyes and she blinked hard. A flippant reply sprang to her lips, but she refused to say anything to diminish the moment.

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re harder on yourself than anyone else. Queen Eirlys knows your loyalty is without question. Mum knows how devoted you are to your work. Believe in yourself, Rori. Trust this.” He placed his hand over her heart and an odd wooziness swept over her. Those words, and that action, were exactly what the strange woman Taryn had said and done.

  Maybe Rori had been mistaking cockiness with confidence. Maybe it was time she stopped trying to prove herself to everyone and be as Cian said, totally badass, but not in a lethal, quiet way like her brother. In her own way. Whatever that was.

  “I will.”

  He removed his hand from her heart and held his mug but didn’t drink from it. His fingers tapped nervously on the table.

  So, even cool-headed Cian could get ruffled. Rori tucked the information aside. Seeing her brother in this light was refreshing. Instead of teasing him, she asked, “How long do you think you’ll be on this mission?” She didn’t want to ask him why he looked so haggard, or whether he’d ever shared Midna’s bed, but the thoughts were hidden behind her question.

  “I’m not sure. I think I’ve uncovered everything here that I can, but it’s possible I missed something.”

  “I doubt that.” Her quip was drowned by a gulp of tea.

  “Have you heard from Mum?”

  “Not since I’ve been back, but then, I’ve been busy.” Rori still hadn’t forgiven her mum for moving away from the Seelie court when she’d retired. Labhruinn MacNair had stayed on as Eirlys’ captain of the guard until Rori entered the Academy, then quietly left her position and moved to a tiny village in the middle of nowhere. To Rori, it felt like abandonment. That was only half the truth. Rori choked back the other half with a sip of tea.

  “I’ll send her a note letting her know you’re doing well.” He rested his hand over hers and gave a squeeze with his fingers.

  “I’d appreciate that.”

  Using him as her personal messenger caused a momentary flinch of guilt. She really should take a few days and visit her mum. It wasn’t Labhruinn’s fault their dad went missing, and it wasn’t her fault that both Cian and Rori chose to follow their dad’s career path. Their mum had never been anything but understanding and supportive. She deserved more than Rori gave her. So did Cian.

  “Tell her I’ll come see her soon.”

  Surprise crossed Cian’s features and he grinned. “It’s about time.”

  It was past time. She missed her mum more than she’d realized.

  “Cian, there’s something I’ve never told anyone and maybe you should know.” His hand snaked across the table to cover hers. His eyes stayed on her face, encouragement mixed with caution. “It’s about Dad.”

  A strange flash cut across his face, one of agony, then it was gone.

  “What about him?”

  “The day he disappeared, I was at Gran’s, in the garden,” the words caught in her throat. This was harder than she’d thought it would be, but her gut told her it was time he knew the truth. “I was at Gran’s, practicing warping and weaving magic like Dad taught us, when all of a sudden I felt like my whole body was on fire. Not just on fire, but ants crawled all over me and spiders were biting me over and over again.” Tears stung the backs of her eyes with the memory. “I lost control of my magic. Or something. I don’t know what happened, but I had no control of it. Like, someone else was in charge and using it against me.”

  Cian wiped the tears that rolled down her cheeks. “That happens to even the best mages. Sometimes we use more than we’re ready for.”

  “No,” she shook her head, letting several cobalt locks hide her face. “It wasn’t like that. I never stretched myself too much. I always knew my limits. Dad used to commend me for my control. But that day—it hurt, Cian.”

  “I’m sorry. Why haven’t you told me before now?”

  Rori took a deep breath. This was the hard part of her story. “Because, what if something I did caused Dad to disappear?”

  Cian left his chair to kneel beside her and enfolded her body with his strong arms. “Beautiful, sweet, lethal Rori. You had nothing to do with Dad’s disappearance. Nothing.” He stroked her hair and made soft comforting sounds until she sniffed and wiped the tears from her face.

  Once the words had been spoken, they didn’t weigh as heavy in her heart, but she wasn’t ready to believe him yet. Doubts lingered despite his assurances.

  Outside her room, a page rang a bell, loudly calling out that the queen would soon be departing.

  Cian pressed his hands to the sides of her face and kissed her forehead. “Don’t torture yourself over something out of your control.” He rose and clapped his hands as if that was done, nothing more should be said on the matter.

  One last shovel of porridge followed by a long drink of tea and she stood. “We should get a wiggle on. Wouldn’t want to keep the queen waiting and all that.” She retrieved her daggers from beneath the pillows where she’d left them the previous night. Her leather jacket hung on the back of a chair and she swished it up to shove her arms through. An instant of regret pinched her heart. Arianna was no longer sleeping in the hidden pocket. Even though the princess had been comatose, Rori had liked having the wee lass close.

  Cian checked his reflection while she finished dressing. He was a handsome guy, her brother. And he knew it. In fact, he used his looks as part of his arsenal of weapons. She studied him as he adjusted his jacket. Cut like a long sport coat, or manteau, it could easily pass for human or fae clothing. Same for the dark pants he wore. His shoes, however, gave him away. Handmade Italian loafers that she knew for a fact cost just under two grand. She looked at her scuffed boots and shrugged. They were a fraction of the price and equally as functional.

  “Hey,” she said as they exited her room, leaving the tray on the table, “remember that weird vision in a vision I told you about?” Rori looked at Cian from beneath her lashes. “Do you know what ShantiMari is? Or what a Darennsai is? This woman said these things, and she knew me, Cian. But I’ve never seen her before—I would swear my life on it. Have you ever heard of a woman named Taryn? Silver hair, blue eyes?”

  Cian cocked his head in thought. “No, can’t say I ever have. Why?”

  “I don’t know. Just, I met her within that illusion and I have a feeling she was actually outside of the illusion.”

  “You’re not making sense.”

  “None of this makes sense, Cian. An enchantress, missing fae, the queens meeting. I can’t shake the feeling something big is happening to Faerie, but we’re the last to know.”

  Cian placed his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. “We’re intelligence officers, Rori. It’s our job to know before anyone else what happens. What do you think is going on?” He tapped her heart, then her belly. “In here. Like I said, trust these.” His last tap was to her forehead. “And this. In our profession, they are the only things you can trust.”

  “You can always trust me, big brother. Not even torture could make me betray you.”

  He kissed the top of her head before letting his arm fall away. “Nor me, you.”

  They wove their way through the dozen or so
carriages to the only white one of the bunch. All the others were drab brown, or sickly black, but the queen’s shone like a star among the rabble. Rori suppressed a shake of her head and roll of her eyes.

  “Nothing like shouting to the world, ‘I’m here!’ Doesn’t she have an ounce of humility?”

  “Don’t be so quick to judge. Being queen isn’t just about gowns and crowns.” Cian glanced down at Rori. “It’s a lonely position that demands a lot physically and emotionally. Queens might look like they’re receiving, but it’s what they’re giving that takes the toll.”

  The dream, of the fae suckling Midna’s breasts as if being fed by the queen, crashed across her thoughts. A warm tingling spiraled from her core and she shoved the memory to the far reaches of her mind. She did not need to think of Midna like that. Ever.

  Cian opened the carriage door for her and she dropped a half curtsey to him with a sloppy grin. He batted her on the back of the head and she laughed as she ducked into the cool dark of the interior. The laughter died in the back of her throat when she saw the Unseelie queen sprawled on the cushions. Her lavender hair cascaded over her shoulders to curl around a barely concealed breast. Not that Midna’s garments did much to hide her nudity. Rori scrambled into the seat opposite and averted her eyes. The warmth spread from her core to her outer extremities. It was going to be a long, uncomfortable trip to the vale.

  “What took you? We’ve been waiting ages.”

  “You know that’s not true, ma’am. The Unseelie queen waits for no one. You only just arrived before we did,” Cian chided.

  The queen harrumphed and sat upright, straightening the voluminous skirts of her floaty, transparent gown.

  “I see you’ve dressed for practicality.” Her brother settled into the cushions, crossing his right ankle over his left knee.

  How he could remain unaffected by the queen, Rori couldn’t guess. The woman’s scent alone was a distraction. Perfume? Sex? She swallowed a bitter lump of disgust and gazed out the window. The rest of the carriages were loaded and ready. The horses lunged forward, knocking Rori backward. A loud thunk sounded when her head connected with wood.

  “Clotpole piper!” The words were out before she could stop them and she stared at the queen in horror. “Your Majesty, please forgive me.”

  Midna’s laughter was unexpected but appreciated. “Please, Rori. You have nothing to fear from me. Swearing is nothing more than words said with passion. Just words.” The queen leaned forward, exposing her breasts, and Rori glanced away. “Dear girl,” she tilted Rori’s face to look at her own, “the things I could teach you. Your brother tells me you’re talented, but by the blush staining your cheeks, I don’t think you’re as learned as you should be. Spying isn’t a game for the easily shocked.” Rori’s eyes widened and again, that wonderful sound of Midna’s laughter filled the carriage. “You must learn to give in to your desires, but in a controlled way. I can help you with that.”

  “With all due respect, no thank you, ma’am.” Mortification didn’t come close to what Rori was feeling. That Midna would dangle her breasts like ripe pieces of fruit, there for the taking, and offer to school Rori in the ways of making love—it was more than an insult. The queen had called Rori innocent, at the very least. The nerve of that woman. She could hardly breathe for the anger pooling inside her gut.

  “Well.” Midna traced a finger down Rori’s cheek to her lips. Her breath came in stuttered pulls, her chest rising and lowering in spurts. The queen’s nail scraped into the soft skin of Rori’s lips. Adding insult, Midna moaned as if the action were sexually fulfilling. Rori struggled to calm her runaway heart. “If you ever change your mind, you know where to find me.” The queen sat back, removing her touch from Rori’s face, and focused on Cian. “Now then, tell me how you’re progressing with the investigation.”

  The change of tone and attitude startled Rori. Even Midna’s clothing altered with her business-like demeanor. Her hair paled to flaxen waves and the floaty, see-through gown became soft velvet, in a deep Bordeaux color. Even Midna’s skin shifted from a shimmery abalone to dull cream. The control this woman had over her magic was impressive.

  Rori could barely control the whorls of emotion fighting within her heart and mind. The dichotomy of desire and disgust penetrated every cell, every fiber of her body. It was enough to drive her to madness. With grudging respect, Rori had to admit the queen could teach her many things. Not just sexually, but she had a feeling the Unseelie queen was the greatest spy of them all.

  13

  The carriage came to a halt and Rori snapped open her eyes, senses on full alert. Cian squeezed her hand and exited the carriage to hold the door for Midna. The queen’s smile was for Rori alone. Hidden in the curves of her lips was an unspoken invitation. For a second, Rori almost blurted out that she’d stay with the queen. That whatever she could teach, Rori would happily learn. But the moment passed and Rori sat in the carriage alone with her confusion.

  She couldn’t remember when she’d fallen asleep, only that Cian and Midna’s conversation had bored her beyond belief. After discussing Cian’s findings, which Rori paid attention to, the discussion had devolved into an accounting of household business. Midna knew everything that happened at her court, down to who was bedding whom. She could recount every penny spent from her treasury and inquired after several babies born in the past month. The dullness of it all had lulled Rori into a sleep deep enough she’d no longer felt the rib-jarring ruts in the road or heard the squeaking of wheels.

  “Are you coming, or did you plan to sleep in here all night?”

  “Shut it, Cian.” Rori slithered from the carriage and stuck her tongue out at her brother. Her boots landed in soft grass and she looked around at her surroundings.

  The Vale of Dorn sat at the very heart of Faerie, of equal distance to the two kingdoms. Rori knew the vale well, having traversed it many times both on foot and horseback. Rowan, the wizard who called the vale home, was a good man. Honest, humble, and smart. He’d given Rori shelter on more than one occasion and stitched her up a fair few times as well. She saw Rowan shuffling toward the queen and smiled.

  Beside Rowan was her friend Tug, and to his left, Meg. Tug saw her and waved a hello as he lumbered past the pair to meet up with Rori.

  “Meg’s fixed me, Ror. I ain’t got no more enchantress in me mind.” He folded her into a hug and she patted his expansive back.

  “That’s good, Tug. Was it so terrible to be cured?”

  “Naw, Meg’s a good lass. Gave me some potions, didn’t she? They weren’t too tasty, but after a while, they did the trick. I cannae feel someone else in here anymore.” He tapped his skull, a wide grin on his face. “Where’s Therron? Meg thought the two of ye would come together.”

  “He’s with Eirlys. I went to the Unseelie palace alone.”

  Tug nodded, as if the idea didn’t surprise him. “He’ll be along shortly, I imagine.”

  It was an odd thing to say, but then, Rori had just had the oddest day of her life. The startling realization hit her that from the moment she woke up in the silent forest to when she fell asleep in the Unseelie queen’s palace had all been one long day. In truth, it felt like a month, at least. No wonder she was exhausted.

  A shiver clawed its way down her spine and Rori turned in time to glimpse a flash of gold and crimson dart behind a tree. She squinted into the surrounding woods but couldn’t make out any movement beyond a few rabbits. Her instinct told her to wait, that Acelyne needed to be there. It took every ounce of self-control not to race after the enchantress.

  “You’ll stay inside with us tonight, Rori.” Meg joined them and hovered close to Tug. Her glance darted to the forest, but she didn’t mention Acelyne. “Rowan insists.”

  “I slept in the carriage on the way here. I can patrol tonight. Where’s Eirlys?”

  “They were detained and won’t arrive until morning. You need your rest.” Meg entreated Tug, “Doesn’t she?”

  “Ye do, Auro
ra. Ye’ve had a busy time of it and if Rowan says ye’ll sleep in the house, then ye will.”

  Knowing arguing would get her nowhere, Rori agreed. “There’s still a few hours of sunlight. I’ll see if I can help put up tents or something. I can’t just stand around waiting.”

  “You can help me with potions. Come, I’ll show you how to make that tincture you’re so fond of.” Meg held out her hand and Rori followed.

  Tug meandered off in the opposite direction and soon after, she heard the thud-chunk of a hammer hitting wooden spikes. Other sounds came to her—of the queen giving orders, forest creatures, birds cawing in the sky, natural sounds that for all the world sounded like everything was as it should be. Yet Rori had the distinct feeling nothing would ever be the same. She savored the moment, her face upturned to the sun.

  At Meg’s impatient huff, she took a deep breath and focused on what the healer had to teach. A small kitchen was set up beside Rowan’s garden. Meg had cauldrons and spits, jars with all sorts of stuff, some of which Rori wished she’d never seen. Cat’s livers, chicken feet, troll scrotum—Meg had everything necessary to brew every potion ever invented.

  “Here, take these.” Meg handed Rori several jars. “Put them in a pot with that elk urine.”

  “Eww. What exactly am I making?”

  “Life Everlasting.” At Rori’s grin, Meg added, “It doesn’t actually make you live forever, but if you’re injured, it will congeal your blood and heal your wounds.”

  “I need a barrel full, please.”

  Meg giggled and gave Rori the rest of the instructions to make the potion. She stirred one pot before adding ingredients to another. They made enough of the tincture to supply an army, several sleeping potions, two quick-acting poisons that would put a soldier out of misery in moments, and a mysterious ochre liquid that smelled fouler than an ogre after a night at the pub.