When she got back to New York, she was going to take Damien to the nearest park and play basketball until the man begged for mercy. Then she was going to drain her bank account and have latte everyday for the next month, maybe longer. She was going to buy pretty dresses for Maria's baby and Jose a million more of those plastic soldiers. She was going to run bare foot in the grass, sing in the shower and maybe even learn to play the guitar.
Screech. The Naga reached out to run a curved talon over the stone. The sound skittered down Star's spine. It was all she could do not to whimper. Screech. Screech.
The Naga was now close enough to touch. Star cracked a lid to watch the powerful muscles flex under the scaly hide. Scars ran the length of the gray body. She closed her eyes again, trying desperately to hold onto her control. The Naga hesitated, her tongue flicking out in curiosity and Star felt her heart stutter. Surely, the creature couldn't sense her? It shouldn't be able to feel her breath or catch her scent.
Screech. The talon raked stone directly over Star's head. The Naga waited. Star stopped breathing. The Naga shook her head, hissing sharply. The snake body rippled and the Naga was past her. The creature was moving with more urgency now. It had probably caught the faint traces of her scent left in the air. Star didn't care as long as it was heading away from her.
She forced herself to wait until she could no longer hear the hissing breath and the slithering sounds of movement before she released her hold on the air around her. She stifled a sneeze against her jeans and shook her head. That was closer than she ever wanted to get to a Naga ever again.
She climbed to her feet and wiped her sweaty hands against her legs. She was close now. She could feel it. All the more reason to go carefully.
A hundred yards later she was staring at a wide junction where three, larger passages joined together. Beyond, a single, wide way led upward. She remembered this. Just up that tunnel lay the main gates of the Unseelie court. The key rode heavy in her pocket.
With freedom so close at hand, it was hard to keep herself from dashing up that tunnel. Star took a deep breath and tried for calm. She stuck her fingers in her pocket to stroke the key, to reassure herself that it was real. It was time.
There was no reason to doubt that the gates would be guarded. Ankou didn't seem lax to her. There might even be patrols in the halls that led to the main gates.
She listened. No sounds were coming from the other tunnels. Carefully, Star crept across the open area and peered around the corner of the entrance passage. Nothing. No sound. No light. She glanced behind her. Nothing moved. As silently as she could, Star moved into the hallway.
It wasn't a long hall but it was wide and flat, leaving no place to hide. The gates towered menacingly over the cold stone like blank, dead eyes glaring forever into the pits of hell. On either side of the door, braziers had been lit, deep copper basins of burning coals. The flickering light cast horrific shadows that danced and cavorted across the walls. The stench was leaden in her lungs. With shaking hands she reached out to touch the wood. She had made it to the gates.
There were no guards.
Star couldn't stop the shiver of trepidation that traced her spine with bony fingers. She would almost have been happier had there been guards. The lack set her nerves to screaming. Trying to keep her mind on the matter at hand, Star focused on the gates in front of her. For such a huge portal, the lock seemed impossibly small. It was the size that she might have latched on a diary had she owned one. With care, Star drew the key from her pocket and fitted it into the lock. There was a faint click and the lock fell open. It took only a gentle shove and the gate swung open.
Night air rushed over her, wild and clean, washing away her fear with exultation. She had done it. She was free.
Star left the key in the lock and stepped out into the vastness of the Meanduraug. The doorstep of shattered stone grated underfoot, but she didn't care. There weren't any guards around to care. That still bothered her. There should have been guards. Star pushed the door closed and heard the latch click.
The night closed in around her. The silence whispered through the trees. No breeze danced in the branches. No night creature stirred. It could be because nothing in its right mind would come this close to the Unseelie court. A whiff of something rotted, drifted past her and Star felt her heart stutter. There was no need for guards on the inside.
She headed away from the gates. The trees were perhaps a hundred yards away and with the rock loose under her feet, she couldn't move too fast without risking discovery or a broken leg. Or both. Overhead, the sliver of the new moon slid behind a cloud leaving her groping in the dark.
To her left she heard the shuffling steps of the ogre. He was grunting as he walked, his knees creaking like rusty hinges. She could hear the rasping gargle of his breathing and smell the ripe stench of rot that emanated from him. There was a scrabbling rustle in the brush to her right and then a spat of snarling that was unmistakably impish.
Star moved faster. Stealth seemed a poor choice when her other option involved still being here when the ogre and the imps arrived.
She had almost reached the trees when the imps broke cover directly in front of her. It was a toss up who was more startled, she or them, but Star took one look at the High General with his bone beaded arm bands and tattered ears and promptly lost her temper.
In the past week, she had been attacked, tricked and betrayed. She had come to the place she hated the most only to be turned over to the only person she despised more than Luna. Now, these scraggily bits of gnarly-assed attitude were going to stand between her and her hard won freedom?
The General crouched, a snarl curling his lips and Star met his challenge head on.
[Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter Eighteen
Her fury burst out of her, the light rolling like an acid wave through the cluster of imps. Three of the imps burst into flames. Their screams were shrill in the quiet night. She heard the ogre's snort of bewilderment and knew that she had only moments to get past the imps and into the trees before the ogre would be on her. Ogres didn't move fast but once they had a scent, they would follow it to the end of the realms. They weren't bright enough to think of any alternatives.
The General screamed his orders and the remaining imps move to flank him. They were going to try to take her down with sheer numbers. Gauging the set of their talons, curved to rip and shred, Star felt a new wave of fury roiling up in her. They weren't out to catch her this time. They intended to kill her.
The light flashed from her again, heat in its purest form. More imps flared into dust leaving the High General and his few remaining imps cowering. He measured the distance between her and the trees and crouched, preparing to leap as the clumping steps of the ogre grated on shattered stone.
A harsh cry rang through the trees, distinctly avian. Star wheeled and looked up, startled. A griffin spread enormous wings against the night sky. He was huge and black as sin, perched on top of the gates to the Unseelie court. Griffins were solitary creatures, preferring to hunt the highest mountain peaks. He was a beautiful and refined predator and far more dangerous to her than imps or one stupid ogre.
Run!
The word slapped across Star's stunned mind. She wasn't sure if someone had shouted it or if her brain had simply shifted into high volume. She couldn't move. She could only stare as the ogre turned to face the griffin.
The ogre was a massive creature, all burly muscle and coarse hair. It's head, perched like a pea on a boulder, appeared to have been borrowed from someone else. The tattered scraps of untanned leather, remnants of past meals, hung together, laced crudely with raw tendon and flesh. Star had no desire to become another ogre fashion accessory.
The ogre raised its club, bellowing a threat. The griffin spread his wings, his leonine body gathered to pounce. Star turned to keep half an eye on the imps but found that only the old General remained. The others had deserted him. He, too, was staring at the griffin in shock.
The ogre continued to bellow. Star couldn't understand a word he was saying but it sounded obscene. The griffin seemed to take offense to it because, with another piercing cry, he launched himself at the ogre. They clashed with a thud of muscle and bone and the ogre went down, his massive hands wrapped around the griffin's throat. The griffin raked with powerful hind legs in an attempt to gut him, his wings beating furiously, stirring up rock-laden flurries. His beak snapped on the ogre's shoulder, ripping flesh, and blood spurted amid harsh cries.
The griffin raised his head, his intense, blue eyes landing on Star where she stood frozen.
Run!
There was no mistaking the command this time and Star bolted for the trees. She didn't care if the idea was her own or someone else's. It was a good plan.
The Meanduraug folded in around her. Tightly woven brambles impeded her path and low hanging branches grasped at her clothes. Behind her, the griffin's screams and the ogre's bellows of pain echoed in ghastly crescendos. Star didn't look back. She didn't know which way she was going, only that she was heading away from the fighting.
She was breathing heavily now, and spots were beginning to dance in front of her eyes. One purple spot zipped past her as if on a collision course with her nose and Star stumbled, falling. A branch dug into her side and she bit back a cry of pain. She sat still for a moment, trying to catch her breath.
The purple spot dangled motionless for a second and then darted back toward her. “Princess?"
It was Foxglove. His tiny body glimmered in the moonlight that managed to filter between the overhead branches. Star could have kissed the pixie. She held her side, panting, as she climbed to her feet.
"Foxglove, what in the world are you doing here?"
"There are highway and byways,” he chirruped. “I came by the tweenways. Followed the griffin."
"We have to get out of here.” Star sucked another deep breath and tried not to listen to the howls and roars behind her. “The ogre and the griffin are fighting and I don't particularly want to become dinner for which ever one wins."
"Where's himself, I'd be wanting to know.” Foxglove executed another frantic whirl in the air.
Star shook her head. “Centauri's the one who turned me over to Ankou. I just want to get out of here."
The pixie gave her an odd look but nodded and zipped away. Star took off after him, holding her side and trying to keep the purple will-o-wisp in sight. He doubled back from time to time, urging her to move faster. As the sounds of fighting faded into the distance, Star felt her energy draining away with every footstep. She could only hope that these tweenways he was talking about were close.
The shrill, avian cry of the griffin sounded high and thin above them. Foxglove dove for a blackberry bramble and Star crawled in after him. Overhead, they could hear the rush of wings and a shadow flickered over them. Star peered between the tangled branches. The griffin was circling, obviously searching for something. It was hunting her. Certainty hummed in her bones and she did her best to make herself as small as possible.
The sound of a bowstring sang followed quickly by a second. As she watched, the griffin wheeled away, fury in his cry now. He didn't seem hurt, just royally pissed off. Either way, he turned and headed south, fading like smoke into the night.
"Eithné!” Foxglove darted out of the cover to bounce about like a manic firefly on PCP. “Don't shoot!"
There was a very feminine snort from the dark and a tall, slender woman detached herself from the shadows. Her bow was still in her hand, an arrow notched to the string but it was aimed away from them. The pointed tips of her ears peeked out of her hair that was pulled back into a tight braid. Another figure materialized beside the Sylph, a man with the same tipped ears and a bow in hand. Like the woman, his eyes were almond shaped and slightly tilted at the corners. They were both dressed in neat hunting leathers that fit their body like a glove.
"We ráthu only shoot what we're aiming at,” the man grinned. “You know that, Foxglove, or you'd have been skewered a long time ago."
"Why waste a perfectly good arrow on a pixie, Gwernen?” the woman wanted to know. Star had the strangest feeling that she wasn't joking. Still, it wasn't terribly good manners to leave Foxglove twisting in the wind, so to speak.
Star crept out of the berry bushes only to find two arrows only inches from her nose. She froze. A glimpse of purple flickered through the periphery of her vision.
"Don't!” The little pixie wasn't really much of an impediment to an arrow but he placed his body between Star and the ráthu. “She's a Sidhe princess, Eithné. We have to get her to the Lady before Ankou catches us."
"A Princess?” The Sylph eyed her suspiciously.
"Yeah.” Star couldn't stop the sarcasm that fell off her tongue. “Didn't my tiara give me away? Now, either shoot me or get those things out of my nose. They itch."
Gwernen's grin widened and he stepped back. Eithné wasn't quite so quick to act but she did move away and let Star climb to her feet. Her arrow remained notched, however, and her eyes never left Star.
"Thank you for the timely bird shooting contest,” Star continued, brushing ineffectually at her jeans. “But we have to be going. Ogres, imps and griffins aren't really on my agenda for tonight. Ok?"
Humor flickered in the Sylph's eyes and Gwernen laughed aloud. He swept her a low bow.
"Oh, fairest lady of the night sky. We poor humble fools beg pardon for our lack of manners. Will you grace us with your presence as we abscond with you through the tweenways?"
Eithné, however, was obviously not so eager to welcome her. With a subtle shift of her body, she placed herself directly in Star's path.
Star's eyes narrowed and her skin began to glow faintly. “You really don't want to push me right now. I have been dragged away from my home, lied to, dumped, trapped and hunted. I don't have the patience to deal with you right now."
"Eithné,” Gwernen warned. “Let the Lady decide."
"We have to get going.” Foxglove added his voice to the objections.
Star didn't move and a grudging smile curved the Lady Sylph's mouth. “Let's move, then, before I have to shoot anymore imps tonight."
Moving meant a bit more than Star had counted on. The Sylphs knew the forest, knew every root that rose to trip unwary feet and every branch that dipped to bash noses and tangle hair. Foxglove didn't have a problem following them, but Star cursed every branch and root in the miserable place until she ran out of breath to spare. She banged her shins on roots, bashed her elbows tree trunks and lost some hair as she ran. Ahead of her, the slender archers wove between the trees and brambles as if they were out for a moonlight jog in the park. From time to time, Foxglove would zip back to make sure that Star was keeping up. The annoying little pixie was fast becoming her favorite person.
When they finally stopped, Star was holding her side and panting, painfully out of breath. She stared at the narrow crack in lichen-covered boulder skeptically.
"We will go through and then we'll be safe,” Foxglove was chanting.
"I can't fit through there!"
"Then stay,” Eithné shrugged.
Slinging her bow over her shoulder, she wedged her body into the slit, ducked her head, and vanished. Gwernen gave Star a long look and then followed suit. Foxglove paused on the boulder and gave Star a broad wink.
"Come on, Princess,” he goaded. “You aren't big enough to worry about getting stuck. The tweenways are bigger than they look. You aren't a coward, are you?"
The little jerk stuck out his tongue at her and darted through the crack.
The wind was rising, howling through the trees like a living thing. The branches overhead whipped and lashed, fending off the dark clouds that were forming against the distant pinpricked stars. In the distance, Star heard the first low scratching cackle drifting on the air. The Slough was taking wing. There was nothing to do but go in and hope her butt was smaller than she thought.
The rock scraped her thighs, fr
ont and back, but Star persisted and managed to make it a few feet until the crack ended and the gaping maw of a hole opened in front of her. Ducking her head as Eithné had done, Star shoved her way deeper. Darkness fell, absolute and velvet with silence. She shoved harder. The rock pinched across her chest and she felt the first stirrings of panic flurrying through her. If her chest was this tight, her hips were never going to fit. She was trapped!
With one final, desperate shove, she fell out the other side, tumbling down the rise of a low, leaf-strewn hill. She lay still, trying to catch her breath. The stars were clear above her through the thin canopy of pale leaves. No storm brewed. No cackling laughter poisoned the wind. There was only the soft loam under her shoulders and the gentle caress of a green flavored breeze.
Foxglove landed on her chest and glowered down at her, his hands on his hips. “What happed with his stuffiness, I would like to know. Why would he just give you to the Dark King?"
Star sat up slowly, giving the pixie the opportunity to choose a new perch before she dumped his impertinent little butt on the ground. He flitted to a twig that poked out of a tumble of leaves. She wiped a hand over her hair, trying to dislodge the leaves that were stuck but gave up. Foxglove's glare was growing darker.
"Sol,” she said finally. Her anger was gone leaving only the stark emptiness of despair in its wake. “A man named Sol."
The pixie's glare faded into disbelief and then to a quiet sort of sadness. “Yes,” he agreed. “He would do that for Sol.” His shoulders slumped and then he frowned. “But what would the Dark King want with you? He doesn't believe in wishes."
Star bent her legs and wrapped her arms around her knees. “He said that he was going to barter me off to Arawn. According to him, the Horned King is getting a bit peckish and might be in need of a new heir soon."
"Arawn is getting fed up with Carradoc?” Eithné nodded in satisfaction as she seated herself on the grass beside Star. “Good. Maybe he'll eat him and leave us in peace for a few hundred years."
Faery Tail Page 13
