Stolen Away

by Alyxandra Harvey

  Eloise went up for a breath, then came back down. We both descended on Devin, snarling at the kelpie. She tried to kick Eloise in the head. Lucas swam between them, and used the horse’s mane to leap onto her back. He yanked back until she snorted, blowing bubbles. Her seductive gaze broke away from Devin.

  He blinked, shook his head. Eloise and I took an arm each and dragged him up to the surface. He coughed out water, trying to breathe.

  “What the hell was that thing?” he finally gasped.

  “Kelpie,” I answered.

  “So, you get a Fae prince, El gets a hawk, and I get a psychotic water horse who tries to kill me? How is that fair?” He coughed again. “You guys haven’t even read Lord of the Rings,” he said again, disgusted. It was his traditional complaint. His teeth chattered. Eloise and I looked at each and then closed in, each kissing a cheek. “Yeah, yeah,” he mumbled. “Let’s go.”

  We dove back in, swimming down to where Lucas had chased off the kelpie. I saw the swish of her tail and had no idea where she could be swimming off to in such a small pond. As long as it was away from us, that was good enough for me.

  Lucas led us through a dark crevice between two rocks and we emerged in a kind of cave with pink quartz glittering in the walls. We hauled ourselves up onto the rocky cave floor, drenched and gasping. My muscles quivered uselessly. I felt like melted butter.

  I wrung out my hair like a rope and then twisted it into a halfhearted braid. The rocks led to a tunnel hung with cobwebs like lace.

  “Everyone here?” Eloise whispered. We all murmured, “Here,” like it was homeroom.

  “Iz, how far is it?” I asked, pushing the webs aside.

  “A few minutes yet. We’re not even under the rath proper.”

  Devin was right beside me, holding out his pocket knife like it was a broadsword and he was a warrior out of one of his fantasy novels. I didn’t even tease him about it. A rat chittered at us, dodging our feet. Isadora flitted backward toward us, watched the rat shoot down the hall with hard eyes.

  “That one was a sentry. We have to hurry or we’ll lose the element of surprise.”

  We broke into a run with no more prodding necessary. There were faint sounds of merrymaking: laughter, some kind of musical instrument being played, footsteps overhead. We went up rough steps carved into the earth, the walls and ceiling turning into a complicated weave of tree roots and little yellow flowers. Isadora looked right fierce.

  “Iz, you all right?”

  She nodded, showing her teeth and a hungry smile. “I’m looking forward to this.”

  I was a little worried for her. She might have been some warrior queen over a hundred years ago, but right now she was tiny. And her sword, though sharpened, was even tinier.

  The tunnel curved left and brought us to a tarnished silver grate. Lucas shifted to a hawk again and caught the rat in his beak before it could dart through. Lucas tossed the rat and it squeaked, hit the wall, and then lay still. No one said anything. We peered through the grate.

  I’d never seen anything so beautiful before, not even Eldric’s room. The ceiling was all silver roots dripping red roses and painted glass lanterns. The floors were thickly laid with Persian rugs; the furniture was ornate and hand carved, piled high with silk cushions. Jeweled oil lamps burned next to thick beeswax candles, and there was a fire crackling and snapping inside a massive hearth. The mantel was crowded with more candles, slim tapers of every height and thick pillars carved with roses. Incense hovered and snaked through the hall. A shield bearing a white swan hung on the far wall. Huge tables were covered with every kind of food imaginable: pomegranates, brioche, éclairs, blood oranges, fried zucchini flowers, pink meringues. No wonder Eloise had had such a hard time resisting. My mouth was already watering.

  But it all paled next to the Fae in their finest corsets and frock coats, cravats and jewels. A slim blond man with splintered antlers played the harp, his feet chained to the wall. The song was so sad, there were tears on my cheeks.

  “Nicodemus,” Eloise whispered.

  A chained mermaid lounged in a water fountain, her expression both hot and disgruntled. Strahan’s guests were dancing and laughing, wings unfurled. Guards with crow feathers on their breastplates surveyed them from every door. I looked for Eldric but the music was so distracting, I found myself swaying, eyes half-closed. My feet itched to join the festivities. I could stand here in the damp, forever, just listening and twirling.

  Something sharp poked me in the neck.

  “Ow!”

  Isadora glared at me, her sword aimed at the same sore spot. “Fae music,” she explained. “It bewitches humans.” Eloise’s eyes were closed and even Devin looked like he was about to break into a jig. Isadora poked them both. “Don’t focus on the song,” she demanded.

  It was surprisingly difficult. In fact, it took such an effort that sweat dripped down the side of my face. Lucas-as-hawk landed on Eloise’s shoulder, dug in his claws.

  “Follow me,” Isadora insisted. “Now!” She barked when we seemed more inclined to stand there humming happily to ourselves. I knew that music would haunt me until I was a toothless old woman.

  “There’s an archway farther along that will take us to the old kitchens outside the ballroom. It was in ruins when I ruled here. I doubt it’s been repaired.”

  We came out the archway and it was still in disrepair, as predicted. The stones were crumbling, thick with dust. But there was someone pacing, scowling, in a fine black velvet coat.

  Someone familiar.

  Eldric.

  Chapter 19

  Eloise

  Eldric didn’t say a word. He just turned on his heel and walked away. Jo watched him go, but I couldn’t read her expression.

  Lucas shifted out of hawk form, even as Meg’s feet turned to hooves though her face stayed human. “We’re surrounded.”

  My heart lurched as the three passageways spilled out crow-guards and beetle-girls. Their weapons were drawn, their dark eyes menacing. Isadora hovered in the dark spaces of the ceiling. “Go,” I mouthed at her. “Don’t fight,” I told the others.

  A beetle-girl sneered, showing off her curved daggers. “A wise decision.”

  It wasn’t just that we were outnumbered and would very likely get our asses kicked. I needed to get to Strahan and my aunt. I knew him well enough to know that he’d want to lord his victory over us, would want to add us to the collection. I would just have to use that to my advantage. It wasn’t a perfect plan by any means, but it was the only one I had.

  We were marched down another corridor, this one painted with swans and lit with gilded lamps. The captain of the guard glanced at Eldric approvingly when we passed him in the hall. He was leaning against the wall, his face fierce. “Well done, my lord. We’ll take them from here.”

  We were shoved at spear point through throngs of laughing and smirking Fae. Strahan lounged insolently on his throne, crown gleaming. Eldric was now standing stiffly behind him, expression unreadable. Malik was at his side.

  My aunt was chained to the wall, dressed in a beaded Victorian gown, her hair tied up with ropes of pearls. There were bruises on her arms. When she saw me, she winced. “Oh, Eloise,” she said.

  Nicodemus, trapped on his dais, stopped playing abruptly.

  Strahan smiled. “Welcome, welcome.”

  Antonia’s chains rattled when she pulled herself to her feet. “Eloise, you should’ve stayed home.”

  I shook my head stubbornly even though fear made my knees feel watery. “You rescued me, now I’m rescuing you.”

  “How very noble,” Strahan drawled. “And stupid.” He watched us carefully, amused. “How charming, the hope of youth. I do believe you think you’ll defeat me still.”

  “It’s early yet,” Jo muttered, but it was under her breath. Devin reached for her hand.

  “How do you like our Samhain ball?” Strahan continued. “The entertainment is the best yet, I think.”

  Aside from Nicodemus and
Cala, there were others: red-vested hobs forced to dance, fairies and sprites hanging from the roof rafters in antique birdcages. They were all perfectly dressed and adorned, and haunted.

  Antonia was pale and serious. “Stop this, Strahan,” she demanded. “They’ve nothing to do with this.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous, my dear.”

  The ribbon was in my pocket and I felt exposed, as if everyone could read the truth of it there. I had to find a way to get closer to Antonia. A spear tip prodded me in the lower back. Jo followed my gaze, then sneered suddenly.

  “I’ve seen better entertainment on a street corner,” she said.

  I blinked at her. Was she insane? Strahan turned his attention toward her. Eldric closed his eyes briefly.

  Jo shifted, pinched my hip surreptitiously. “This is hardly a party,” she added. “You rat-arsed git.”

  Strahan looked totally taken aback. His courtiers muttered among themselves.

  Eldric looked like he was going to be sick. But he didn’t move from his spot, even though every muscle in his body looked tense.

  “I’m sick of your mouth,” I jumped in loudly. “It always gets us into trouble.”

  Jo scowled. “Well, there’s gratitude for you. I won’t come on your doomed quest next time, and I’ll just let you mess about blindly on your own.”

  “Good, who asked you to come?”

  “You did.”

  Our guards were bewildered, looking at Strahan for orders. Jo took the moment of distraction and yanked hard on the spear at my back.

  I didn’t hesitate, launched myself into the air, shouldering aside a beetle-girl. I didn’t aim for Strahan like his guards assumed I would. They closed in around him and I raced right past. Malik pulled Eldric back and they stumbled dramatically, falling backward in a flurry of limbs, as if I’d shoved them. I hadn’t even touched them.

  I leaped over a furry hob as if I were hurdle-jumping. I landed badly but close enough to my aunt that I could pull the red velvet ribbon out of my pocket and throw it to her. She caught it, at first confused, then triumphant.

  “Very impressive.” Strahan shoved guards out of his way. Crow feathers and rose petals flurried around him. “But you’re not any closer to escape. And I still have your friends.”

  Sword tips pierced skin, blood blooming on Meg’s and Devin’s throats. Jo stood like a tragic Shakespearean queen, pale and proud. Lucas was flying frantically near the ceiling with a piercing cry. Blood dripped from one wing, held at an awkward angle.

  “Not all my friends,” I said grimly as Ronan and his people poured through the archways like ants overrunning a picnic. Swords flashed, dogs bit. Meg used her hooves to break kneecaps. Howls of pain rang over the sound of clashing swords. Devin tripped once, scrambled back to his feet.

  Isadora came shrieking out of the ceiling roots, her eyes wild, her teeth bared in a laugh. Her folk swarmed in after her on their hornet mounts, loosing a silver rain of elf darts. One barely missed Jo, tangling in her hair like a lost earring.

  “Watch it,” she croaked, swinging her captured spear wildly. She took out two beetle-girls and nearly broke Devin’s neck in the process. “Sorry, sorry.”

  Eldric didn’t join the fray right away. He stayed on the dais and though he didn’t look at Jo and she didn’t look at him, every dagger he threw knocked a weapon out of its path toward her. Arrows and knives clattered around her, as if she had an invisible force field protecting her.

  The Seelie courts fought furiously, as the tall grandfather clock watched, like some stern patriarch. Dusk had come and gone; there was one more time of power before Samhain’s end. Midnight.

  And it was 11:47 now. The pendulum swung rhythmically, hypnotically.

  Strahan blocked my view suddenly.

  “Run, Eloise.” Antonia yanked and pulled at her chains, the ribbon crumpled in her fist. “Run, damn it.”

  My throat felt like it was full of broken glass, my knees like melting ice. The Grey Ladies floated behind him, shrieking. The lamps shattered. Frost limned swords and fingers and silk bustles. My teeth chattered. My lips went blue.

  “Give me the ribbon,” Strahan said to Antonia calmly. His hair was so golden, it glimmered. “And I won’t break her bones and suck out her marrow.”

  That was a little too descriptive for my taste. And since it was what the old lady in the woods had warned me about that night at the party, I didn’t even think he was exaggerating.

  “Don’t do it, Aunt Antonia,” I said when she hesitated. “Don’t!”

  Strahan was annoyed. “You are becoming tiresome, little one.” The battle raged on behind him. Ronan cleaved a ratwoman’s head from her body. Swan feathers gathered in the corners with the drifts of snow. The wailing of the Grey Ladies was making my teeth hurt.

  “Yeah, well, you became tiresome a long time ago.” I glanced behind me. “Antonia, do whatever it is you need to do with that thing.”

  “I need his crown as well,” she said, her hair coming out of its intricate twists. “The key,” she muttered when I stumbled closer to her. I hadn’t noticed it before, hanging on a hook, just out of reach to taunt her cruelly. I grabbed it, tossed it to her, though I was so cold I felt as if I were moving in slow motion.

  Strahan flicked his hand and more guards closed in. I threw a vase of lilies at one since it was the closest thing within reach. Water arced over him. The other one moved in, snarling. Antonia’s sword, stolen from a fallen guard, caught him across his right arm as she pulled free of the chains. She swung again. Blood and red rose petals scattered over her boots.

  “Back off,” she bit out.

  Strahan’s fury had the candles burning higher, the fire leaping up the chimney. Oppressive heat pressed down on us. Sweat soaked my shirt despite the Grey Ladies’ icy breath. The clock kept time, impassively.

  “Jo! Dev! Unchain the others.” I scooped up the iron key and threw it. Devin grabbed it out of the air.

  “I’ll have that damnable ribbon.” Strahan grabbed a sword from a beetle-girl who was clawing at the wound in her chest. A dog yelped. Winifreda was hiding under a feast table, eyes wide with fear. A fairy with lavender wings plummeted past my head. I saw Nicodemus leap off the dais, snarling. The heat kept burning, reddened exposed skin, forming painful blisters. Strahan’s sword whistled toward Antonia. She blocked it, grunting. There was another thrust, a parry. Pearls rolled across the floor.

  I didn’t know how to help.

  And then that didn’t matter so much.

  The crow-guard who had pushed me off the roof of my apartment building grabbed me, scratching my face. It burned, blood dripping. He licked it. I gagged.

  “Let. Go.” I elbowed him as hard as I could. It wasn’t enough to stop him, but Lucas’s talon to the eye was. He screamed, clutching at the bloody gash, jabbing up with a dagger. The blade caught Lucas in the breast, through feathers already matted with blood. He screamed, shimmered, and when he landed on the rug, he was a pale, unconscious boy, blood staining his shirt.

  “Lucas!” I tripped over a Redcap hob who grinned before jabbing at me with the fire poker. I kicked him aside. “Lucas!”

  My aunt was tiring. The clock kept ticking. A Swan girl, clearly still loyal to Strahan, glided toward me and took my feet out with an ivory staff. I landed hard. I scrambled backward on my elbows but the staff smashed into my ankle. Yelping, I tried to move faster. I kicked out with my good foot.

  The roses in the ceiling were drooping, wilting. I wondered if it was the last thing I would ever see. An eagle screeched, knocking the Swan girl off her feet. I used her staff to drag myself to Lucas, resting his head in my lap, the way he’d done with me on the couch. Blood dripped, warm and steady on my knee. He coughed, wincing. His skin was clammy, hair spiky with sweat.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

  “Don’t move,” I said. “Don’t move. You’ll be okay.” I shifted to kneel beside him, wadding up the torn remains of his shirt, pressing it on the gash
under his ribs. “Oh God, please be okay.” There was so much blood. I leaned down to kiss him, tears dripping onto his face. They were my tears, because he was smiling. “I knew you’d kiss me eventually.”

  I half laughed and kissed him again. “Hold on, just hold on.”

  His gaze shifted over my shoulder, his eyes shifting into those of a hawk. He lifted up, one arm holding me against his chest, the other jabbing with the ivory staff. The end caught the beetle-woman who had been closing in behind me. She staggered, screaming. Black blood spattered. Lucas slumped back to the ground.

  He didn’t move again. His blood seeped into the rug. I choked back a sob. I couldn’t tell if he was still breathing.

  The beetle-woman came at us. The gash nearly severing her arm wasn’t going to stop her. Her long needle-thin sword slid through the air toward us. I shielded Lucas, trying to reach the staff. It was too far away. The sword point glittered.

  And then there was a crack of light as my fierce, tattooed mother appeared, wearing Antonia’s pendant and screaming, “Get the hell away from my daughter.”

  Her baseball bat did a pretty good job of follow-through.

  “Mom!”

  “When I saw the ribbon was missing, I knew you must be here. Of all places.” Her face went steely when she saw Strahan hacking away at her twin sister. “Oh, I’m going to enjoy this,” she said, taking handfuls of rusty iron nails out of her bag. She shoved a few at me and then began to whip the rest at Strahan. The first one grazed his cheek, the second his hand. He cursed, skin sizzling. There was a noticeable dip in the temperature; the battle between summer and winter was balancing out.

  I didn’t care.

  Lucas wasn’t moving, and his blood was everywhere.

  I touched his cheek. His eyelids didn’t flicker; he didn’t even groan. Matted feathers half sprouted from his shoulders. He’d been caught midshift. His wound was too deep.

  Lucas was dead.

  The battle faded around me, sounds of clashing swords muffled, screams muted.