Relics and Runes Anthology

by Heather Marie Adkins

  His chest puffed up and his eyes narrowed. “You cheated.”

  She sheathed her daggers and held her hands out wide, showing they were without weapons. “I didn’t, and you know it. How about a rematch?”

  Acelyne turned to say something, but he ignored her and stormed forward. Rori was hoping he was just as dimwitted as he’d been at school. He couldn’t pass up a taunt then, nor could he now. When he was a pace from her, he raised his fist as if to strike. She rolled to the side and sprang up, landing a kick to his midsection. An angry grunt was quickly followed by his sword being drawn. Fine. He’d cheated all those years ago—and yet had claimed Rori was the cheat—she expected nothing different from him now. She, however, refused to draw her daggers.

  He spun and sliced the air with the deadly blade, but Rori had hopped to his other side, taking advantage of his height and weight to slow his movements. Her nimbleness and quick jabs elicited frustrated grunts from the overgrown spunking tramp herder. He hollered to the sky and swung his sword harder, slashing the air again and again. The third time his arms stroked down, Rori sprang up, landing a solid fist against his jaw. She heard and felt the breaking of her bones. Dorchmeir heard it, too.

  His sniveling face turned to glee. He raised both arms, with the hilt held between his fists, and angled the butt toward her. The gleaming silver was on a collision course with her cheek. A second before it smashed her face, she kicked Dorchmeir’s ribs and flung herself to the side. Fire ripped up her thigh as the blade cut through her jeans to rent her skin. Heat spiderwebbed outward, infecting her bloodstream. The bastard had poisoned his sword. She should’ve expected nothing less from the coward.

  Rori rolled from her side and up to hop on her good leg. The sensation of a million fire ants crawling inside her veins, gnawed her from the inside out. Dorchmeir laughed, his ugly mug contorting with the effort. She reached for the dagger at her hip and pulled it free. Her hand was half-cocked when she heard a shout from behind her.

  “Rori, stop.” Esme entered the small area, her eyes wide and glancing from Rori to Dorchmeir to Acelyne. “What’s going on here?”

  The enchantress spoke before the others had a chance, but her words were not to explain the situation. They were a spell meant to silence Esme forever. Dorchmeir stood idle while his soon-to-be betrothed was put under a deadly enchantment.

  Rori let her dagger loose, directing it to land right in the soft spot of Dorchmeir’s throat. With a soft thud, it made its mark. Esme screamed, from seeing Dorchmeir’s blood spurting, or from what the enchantress was doing to her, Rori didn’t know or care. She tugged the second dagger from her thigh and spun toward Acelyne.

  “Let her go, witch.”

  Acelyne’s hyena-like laughter brushed the treetops.

  “She’s innocent of this, your quarrel is with me, not her.” Rori indicated Esme, who had gone pale and silent, her eyes bulging from her head. She floated several feet from the forest floor, her gown billowing as if the girl were drowning.

  “Little Rori, how delusional you are. No one is ever truly innocent. Her, you, or poor Nelson here. No one is without their secrets.”

  Rori leapt at the woman, hands outstretched to wrap around her neck. The gash on her thigh burned anew, stealing her momentum. Acelyne sidestepped and spun out of sight. A moment later, she appeared ten paces away, behind a tree. The enchantress had the upper hand when it came to magic and spells, but Rori had her own set of skills.

  Esme dropped to the ground, coughing and sputtering, her hands at her throat. Tears streamed down her face as she gasped for air. “Kill. Her.” She jabbed a finger in Acelyne’s direction.

  Rori drew a breath and focused. Eyes closed, she saw in her mind the forest, the layout of trees, the curve of trunks. Turning her back on Acelyne, Rori gripped the tip of the blade and blew down the sharpened edge. Then, with a silent command, she pivoted while cocking her arm back. Keeping the enchantress firmly in her thoughts, she released the dagger. A moment later, she opened her eyes.

  A swath of red darted between two trees and Rori adjusted the dagger’s course mid-flight. Blue black flames burst from behind the trees, engulfing Rori in searing heat. She screamed against the burning waves. Seconds later, they turned to icy pinpricks. Pinchers tore at her clothing, shredding the leather jacket and burrowing into her skin. Another scream came from deep in her core and escaped her lips. Against the torture, Rori struggled to control the dagger. She kept Acelyne’s breastbone at the forefront of her mind.

  The sound of branches breaking and raised voices came from behind as Rori sank to the ground. Flames rose and multiplied, their hungry tips feasting upon her. Heat followed by ice. Again, and again. Heat then ice. The endless torment seared through her skin to the marrow of her bones.

  Acelyne’s wail silenced the forest and Rori knew her dagger had struck true.

  A hush fell over the woods. The flames engulfing her evaporated. Death once more crept through the forest. But this time, Rori wasn’t alone.

  A heartbeat later, she heard Therron call her name and she let out the breath she held. The elf broke through the trees, looking like a king of old with his sword drawn, his cloak trailing behind him.

  Therron reached her and she stared in horror at her unbroken skin, her intact leather jacket. Another illusion.

  “Are you real?”

  “Aye.” He searched her face. His impossibly light blue eyes roved over her body. “You’re injured.”

  “I was hoping that wasn’t real.” His chuckle was like a warm balm to her bruised body. “You’re bleeding.” A thin trail of blood snaked down his neck from an inch-wide cut.

  “’Tis nothing. Cut myself shaving.”

  They both knew that wasn’t true, based on the length of his stubble, but she dropped it. There were more pressing matters to attend.

  A second man crashed into the woods and she recognized her brother as he came out of the shadows. Others were there. Both queens, Tug, Meg, and Rowan.

  “Where’s Acelyne?” Cian asked and Rori pointed to the trees, where a slip of red showed through the green.

  Therron put out a hand to help her up and she gratefully accepted. Midna and Eirlys held hands, both looking more like worried mothers than the monarchs they were. Meg went to Esme’s side and helped her stand. Eirlys glanced briefly at Dorchmeir’s body, then turned to Rori.

  “We had a plan. What were you thinking coming here alone?”

  “No one told me about a plan,” Rori mumbled. “Just that I was the bait.”

  Eirlys cupped Rori’s cheek with her palm. Her wan smile and soft eyes were the only apology Rori would get. Both queens stepped past her to where Cian crouched over the body of the enchantress. Rori limped behind, but didn’t care to see the woman who’d captured, then tried to kill her.

  To her surprise—hell, to everyone’s surprise—Acelyne wasn’t dead. Rori’s dagger protruded from the woman’s chest, and blood trickled from her slack mouth, but breath still came from her lungs. Evil clung to her glare.

  “You were perfect,” Acelyne slurred and everyone turned to look at Rori. “He would’ve been so pleased with you.”

  “Who would’ve?” Rori demanded, but the enchantress gurgled a laugh and shook her head. Fresh blood bubbled over her lips.

  “Where’s my sister? What have you done with Mairead?” Midna asked and again Acelyne laughed.

  “Someplace you’d never dare look.”

  “I have something here to loosen her tongue.” Meg held out a vial of yellow liquid.

  “And I have something here to heal it.” Acelyne knocked the cork out of a small bottle. It was the vial of Everlasting Life Rori had made the previous night. Before Cian could stop her, Acelyne emptied the contents into her mouth. Pinkish foam spilled from her lips to her lush golden hair.

  Her eyes protruded and she glared at Meg. “You. Tricked. Me.” The words came out harsh and slurred, with a lifetime of hatred behind them.

  Meg wiggled the b
ottle in her hand. “It was easy, sister. You’ll never steal from me again.”

  As the poison took effect, Acelyne’s youthful features warbled and wrinkled to flaps of skin and age spots. Locks of sunlit hair fell away, leaving her pate mostly bald, with only a few silver strands covering her head. The crimson gown deteriorated to wisps of faded fabric and Rori’s dagger clattered to the ground as the enchantress’ body sunk in on itself, nothing more than a rotted cadaver.

  Cian retrieved her weapon and wiped it against a tuft of grass.

  “Help me, Midna?” Eirlys asked the Unseelie queen.

  They stood to either side of the enchantress, their hands making an arch above the lifeless body. The women began chanting and a crystal coffin ensconced the corpse. Within the clear box, Acelyne’s features returned to that of an old woman, but did not regain the youth or beauty she’d had a few minutes before.

  Cian stood next to Rori and handed her the dagger. After a moment’s hesitation, she returned it to its sheath against her leg. She’d retrieve her other dagger from Dorchmeir’s body later. “I don’t understand.”

  “Nor do I,” Midna admitted, “but we’ve done our best to preserve her mind. I’ll send her to my necromancer to see if there’s anything yet to learn.”

  Several of Midna’s men, dressed as courtiers yet behaving more like soldiers, lifted the crystal coffin from the ground and carried it out of the forest. Rori watched them leave, her heart heavy and her mind conflicted. This all had something to do with the human realm, but what? And why did Acelyne want her bad enough she risked her life to capture Rori? Her gaze traveled up past the men to the treetops, then back down to the small group.

  Meg stood beside Tug, her auburn hair hanging past her hips. Gone were the wrinkles and wiry silver hair. She looked like a maiden fresh from the milking shed. And Rori wasn’t the only one to notice. Tug gaped at the healer.

  “Acelyne’s been stealing my youth for years. I’ve tried everything to overpower her, but she was too good at illusions. In the end, that’s what killed her.” Meg held the vial between her fingertips. “I knew she’d be watching you, Rori. That’s why I had you help me with the potions. Acelyne never was good with them, but I made sure I told you what every bottle contained. I knew Acelyne would rob my stores, so I made my sister believed she was stealing a potion that would heal her completely.”

  “Remind me never to get on your bad side, Meg,” Rori teased.

  “Or yours,” Therron quipped. “You weren’t even looking at the enchantress when you threw your dagger, yet it flew true and hit its mark.”

  “We all have our own kind of magic, I guess.” Rori shrugged.

  “Speaking of which.” Meg motioned to her leg, where blood stained her jeans and dripped into the mossy ground. “Come inside. Rowan and I need to stitch you up.”

  “Shall I carry you?” Therron bent as if to do just that.

  “Not if you like your balls attached to your body.”

  He backed away and held his hands up as if surrendering. “Then I shan’t.”

  He did, however, hold her around the shoulders where she could lean on him as she tried valiantly not to limp out of the woods. Cian retrieved her dagger from Dorchmeir’s throat and tucked it into a pocket. One of the soldier/courtesans carefully wrapped the lieutenant’s sword in a blanket and carried it away.

  “What will happen to him?” Esme asked no one in particular. Rori’s heart went out to her friend. He’d deceived them all, but perhaps Esme most of all. “I don’t understand.”

  “There, there, child. Come inside and have a cuppa. We’ll sort you right as rain.” Meg took Esme’s hand in her own, and indicated she follow.

  “I’d like that, I think.” Esme tucked Meg’s hand against her side, as if the woman were the only thing tethering her to reality. Rori understood far too well how her friend was feeling. In time, she would recover, but she was in shock and needed whatever healing Meg could provide.

  Midna and Eirlys led the group through the trees, their heads bent close in conversation. When they reached the vale, Eirlys turned to them and sighed. “This day has been one I had hoped would never come to Faerie, yet here we are. There is malevolence growing all around us, and we need to stop it before it destroys every last one of us. Rori, I should like you to go to the human realm and uncover what you can about the amulets. Meg, get her healed and fit. Cian, continue doing the good work you’ve started here. Midna and I will do what we can to uncover who is behind all of this.”

  Eirlys turned and signaled for the Unseelie queen to join her inside Rowan’s cottage. Rori met Cian’s gaze and saw the disappointment lingering there. This should be his assignment. Yes, she’d been captured by Acelyne, but he had all the intel on SIRE, and Rori knew in her gut that the company was somehow involved. She didn’t believe in coincidence. Whoever Malcolm Dagniss was, he played a role somehow. Her belly churned with indecision. The queens disappeared into the little house amid a flurry of gesticulating hands and raised voices.

  On one side of the cottage, several forest creatures crouched low until their bellies dragged on the ground. They inched their way closer to the door. She spied two trolls among the raccoons, badgers, and wood nymphs.

  “What do you think they’re up to?” Rori said more to herself than anyone in particular.

  “I think they want ta give the queens thanks,” Tug replied. “Acelyne’s been poisoning their homes for too long.”

  Acelyne’s death would stop some of the evil Eirlys sensed creeping throughout Faerie, but whoever was paying the enchantress was still out there.

  Rori glanced once more at Cian and made her decision. The best way she could help Faerie was to learn all she could. Not just about SIRE and Malcolm Dagniss, but about everything. She’d lived a life within blinders until now. Seeing only what was in front of her, focusing too hard on her missions. Faerie and the human realm were wider than she’d ever imagined. The enchantress might never be able to trap her again, but she’d make damn sure nobody else would either.

  In her innocence, she’d been too trusting of Therron and her brother, and even though they deceived her for her own good, she couldn’t shake the truth that she hadn’t seen through their deception. The blinders were off. She saw the world for what it was now, not for how she wished it to be. If war was coming, she’d be better prepared.

  Therron supported her as she maneuvered around the forest creatures, careful not to step on any tails or paws. His arm felt good around her shoulders. His body heat warmed her through to her nether regions. This man was dangerous. Not just because he’d managed to dupe her, but for the thoughts whipping through her brain—all culminating with images of Midna’s palace. But this time it was Rori on the divan and Therron who stood beside her.

  She cleared her throat and shook her head to dispel the sultry fantasy. She needed to speak to the queens before they were too far into their planning. The pair sat upon twin chairs, looking magnificent and regal despite the odd surroundings. When she approached, both looked up, but not in surprise as Rori had thought they might. After all, she’d played her part. Eirlys had given her a command—what more could Rori have to say?

  “I’d like Cian to go to the human realm to seek out the miscreant who is kidnapping fae.” She dropped a low curtsey just for good measure. Pain surged from her thigh and she grimaced. “If you approve, Your Majesties, I would like to convalesce with Queen Midna for an undetermined amount of time. Once healed, I’d like to learn everything she can teach me.”

  Both women raised their eyebrows at her declaration. Hell, even Rori was shocked at her words. She’d decided it was best if Cian pursued the mission, but she hadn’t realized how badly she wanted to return to Midna’s court until the words spilled from her lips.

  Eirlys turned to Midna, a secret smile upon her lips. “Well, sister of my heart, do you consent to taking my Rori on as a foster?”

  Her Rori? Seriously?

  “Only with your approval.”


  “Then you shall have it.” Eirlys glanced above the heads of those gathered. “Cian, what say you to your sister’s request?”

  Cian’s eyes were huge in his handsome face. His usually tense jaw gaped and for once he was at a loss for what to say.

  “I’ll take that as a yes.” The queen giggled when she turned toward Rori. “You’ll have your education, dearest. Learn well, but learn quickly. I have a feeling your brother will be needing your assistance soon enough.”

  Rori frowned at the implied meaning that she was obviously missing. She could puzzle it out later. At the moment, her stomach was complaining about its empty state and her heart beat so hard she could barely breathe. As she turned toward the kitchen, she glanced at Therron. Something dark and mysterious lingered in his gorgeous eyes. Something she hoped wasn’t an illusion. Something she desperately wanted him to unleash upon her.

  The End

  Continue the Fatal Fae Series in book two, FATAL ASSASSIN. While searching for the missing fae, Cian MacNair meets the woman of his dreams. She’s perfect, except for one thing—she’s been sent to kill him.

  http://tamerietherton.com/RaR_FatalAssassin

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  About the Author

  Tameri Etherton is a USA Today Bestselling and award-winning author who grew up inventing fictional worlds where the impossible was possible. It’s been said she leaves a trail of glitter in her wake as she creates new adventures for her kickass heroines, and the rogues who steal their hearts.

  She lives an enchanted life traveling the world with her very own prince charming and their mischievous dragon, Lady Dazzleton.