The Castle of Earth and Embers

by Steffanie Holmes

  “Say I believe this is true,” Jane said. “Say I’m shit out of options and all the crazy talk is starting to sound like the only reasonable explanation of what happened. How does this help us get Connor back?”

  In response, Corbin dumped a bunch of books in Jane’s arms. “That’s what we’re doing here,” he said. “Somewhere in these books and diaries is a clue to the spell the fae are trying to perform with these children. If we can find it, we can figure out a way to stop it.”

  “So I’m going to save my son by reading?” Jane asked, raising an eyebrow incredulously.

  “Well…” Corbin shrugged. “Yeah. You don’t have to help if you don’t want—”

  “No.” Jane dropped down into Corbin’s wingback chair behind the desk and opened the first book on the stack. “I’m a fast reader.”

  Corbin looked like he was about to say something about his chair, but he snapped his mouth shut and plonked down on the other end of the sofa.

  Silence prevailed, the only sounds in the room the rustle of pages and the slurp of hot chocolate. I skimmed through two folklore volumes written by previous residents of Briarwood and a dull-as-dishwater herbal manual before my hand fell upon a small book. Principles of Spirit Magic, the title declared in faded gothic script.

  My heart thudded in my chest. The guys said I was a spirit user like my mother. But I knew very little about what that actually meant. Apart from the dreams, I hadn’t really done anything particularly magical. Not that I really believed any of this. But maybe the book would have something useful.

  I opened it up, flipping through the pages until I came to a section called DREAMWALKING.

  The power of dream walking manifests itself in different ways, depending on the witch and how he/she chooses to wield it. It is one of the rarest types of spirit magic and is not well understood.

  A witch may use her powers to enter the dreams of another, to bring people into her own dreams, or to transport her body through the dream-realm to other places, times, or spiritual planes.

  “Guys,” I cried excitedly, leaping up so fast that Obelix, who’d settled himself between Corbin and I on the sofa, shot me a filthy look and returned to licking his bollocks.

  Bollocks. Such a multi-faceted word.

  “Watch out!” Corbin steadied his mug of hot chocolate. “Did you find something?”

  I grinned. “I think I know a way we could get Jane’s baby back.”

  31

  CORBIN

  Corbin, I need every book you’ve got on dreams and dreamwalkers.” Maeve instructed as she paced back and forth across the library. As soon as she’d shown me the passage in the book, I’d grasped what she was getting at and called the others into the library. Thankfully, Flynn was wearing pants.

  Maeve started passing out the volumes she’d already found. Everyone lined up to help (except for Jane, who had to go check in with the police about Connor’s case). Funny, no one was ever this enthusiastic about research when I needed a hand. “Right, you guys, I’m looking for a spell to manipulate a dream, or… and I can’t believe I’m saying this… to use dreams to astral-project.”

  “Whoa, Maeve. Getting your freak on.” Flynn grinned.

  “No, Flynn, I’m trying to save an innocent life.” Maeve was not in a joking mood. “Even if we can’t figure out what the fae are trying to do with Connor or the other baby they took, we can at least try and get them back—”

  I barely heard any of the conversation, so mesmerized was I by Maeve stomping across the library like she owned it, which I guess technically she did. Her skin glowed with the faintest trade of white light. And my attraction to her grew and swelled with every breath she drew in between her bow-shaped lips. I glanced across at Arthur and he nodded. He felt it, too. The hum in the air, the sizzle of untapped potential magic waiting to be channelled.

  Maeve didn’t realize it, but she was already gathering her power. I couldn’t believe that only hours earlier, I’d had her over that very desk she leaned across right now, our bodies entwined together, her power feeding from mine—

  Maeve waved her hand in front of my face. “Earth to Corbin? The books… I need them.”

  “Um… right.” I pulled her over to a shelf on magical lore. “Hold out your hands. This could get heavy.”

  “Ooh,” Maeve breathed out as I dumped a heavy volume of dream magic into her arms. “Luckily I’ve been doing those workouts with Arthur or that would've sent me through the floor.”

  You’ve been doing more than working out with Arthur, I noted, but didn’t say it aloud, not with Jane in the room. Maeve’s power had grown far too much for her to have just been with me – she’d shagged someone else. But old Aragorn wasn’t giving anything away – his hands in his pockets, his forehead furrowed in thought as he peered over Maeve’s shoulder, his beard tickling her collarbone…

  Stop being an idiot and get back to work. I opened the book in front of me, flipping through the pages of spells. Maeve didn’t choose you. She has a right to be with whoever she wants, and you have no right to get all possessive just because she slept with you first. And if she had to shag someone else, then one of your best friends makes a bloody good choice, considering the advantages it’s going to have when performing spells—

  No matter what I told myself, that growling, gnawing feeling in my gut wouldn’t let up. I glared at Arthur again as he turned the page for Maeve. Bastard.

  Focus. I flipped open my book, turning my body away from the desk so I didn’t have to look at Arthur and Maeve. Now I faced Rowan and I noticed his gaze was fixed on Maeve, too. Poor Rowan, he didn’t have a shot in hell.

  I scanned the pages, searching for any spells about dreams or astral-projection. Unfortunately, none of the ancestors of the Briarwood coven had a degree in Library Science, so they hadn’t thought to index or catalogue their spells. I’d made a start on it, but it probably wouldn’t be finished in my lifetime. We had to search through every page on every book, and the chances of finding what we needed were—

  Hang on a sec.

  The image in my book showed coven members asleep, draped naked over logs and rocks in the middle of a forest. Above their heads, they danced with a horned demon in a dream. My eyes darted across the spell, translating the mingled English/Latin text. My heart leapt in my chest. “I’ve found something, but it’s not easy.”

  “Of course it fecking isn’t,” Flynn rolled his eyes. Everyone crowded around the sofa. Maeve draped herself over the arm, her leg brushing mine and sending all sorts of distracting thoughts through my head.

  “So this is a dream projection spell,” I explained, moving my finger across the loopy writing. “According to this, one dreamwalker can pull other witches into a dream of their choosing. If the dreamwalker has the ability, they can use that dream to move to different places on earth.”

  “Sounds dangerous,” Arthur said.

  “Oh yeah, she’s a real bastard,” I jabbed the page. “The dreamwalker needs enough power to sustain the dream for all the other witches. And, the witches within the dream must return to their bodies in the waking world before they wake up or they’ll be stuck in the dream forever. Plus, it doesn’t say anything about using dreams to cross the multiverse.”

  Maeve wrinkled her forehead. “I don’t understand, so are we in a dream or in the real world? We have to be in the real world to affect it, surely?”

  “Not according to this,” I said. “Have you got one of your physics books handy? Maybe it’s a quantum thing.”

  Maeve shook her head. “We are way past the point where quantum theory will help.”

  I glanced at her in surprise. For Maeve to say that about science… she really was starting to believe. Maeve stared at the spell with a determined glint in her eyes. “For this to work, you’d all have to be asleep at the same time.”

  “I can’t fall asleep if Arthur’s in the room,” Flynn complained. “He snores like a truck driver.”

  “I do not!” Arthur s
hot back.

  “I can mix a sleeping draught,” Rowan whispered.

  “Can you make it taste like a glass of whiskey?” Flynn grabbed the book from my hands and started reading out the words he recognized. “The rest of this spell seems pretty easy, as long as Maeve can get her witch on for long enough.”

  A frown crossed Maeve’s face. “We know I can pull people into a dream, but I don’t want anyone else to do this. I want to try. I want to help get Connor back, but you don’t all have to risk your lives to do it, too.”

  “Don’t talk bollocks,” Flynn said, shoving the book back into my arms. “This is the first piece of serious magic our complete coven will perform. I want to see what we can do.”

  “I’m in,” Arthur said.

  “And me,” added Rowan.

  I glanced around the room. A surge of pride coursed through me to see the determined faces staring back at me. Our coven. It took me seven years for find them all and bring them here to Briarwood. When it came down to it, every one of them had no problem risking their lives to do the right thing and I loved them for it.

  I stood up and threw my arms around Flynn and Maeve, bringing them together into a group hug. Maeve wrapped her arm around Rowan and drew him in, and Arthur’s thick arms nearly encircled us all. My grin stretched ear to ear as I yelled, “lets kick some fae ass.”

  32

  MAEVE

  What are you doing?”

  I squealed with shock, dropping my end of the couch. The leg landed on my foot, sending a shooting pain up my leg. On the other end, Arthur winced as the opposite leg slammed into his shin.

  We both whirled around. Dora stood in the entrance to the great hall, casting her frown around at the furniture pushed up against the walls and the rolls of tapestries propped up in the corner. She folded her arms across her black dress and tapped her orthopedic shoes against the stone floor.

  “Just um… a little spring cleaning.” I winced, rubbing my foot.

  “It’s not spring,” she snapped. “And I do the cleaning. Those tapestries are over four hundred years old, young lady. You don’t know how to properly handle them—”

  “That’s why we’ve left them for you to take care of,” I gestured to the tapestries.

  “How kind of you,” Dora said in a voice that implied it wasn’t kind at all.

  The two of us stared daggers at each other until Arthur coughed awkwardly. “Hey, um… Dora, there’s some mold on the curtains in my bedroom. Shall I should help you lift them down?”

  “Certainly, Arthur, that will be lovely.” She turned on her heel and stomped off toward the staircase.

  Arthur sighed and set down the end of the couch. “I’d better go help her.”

  I nodded. “Looks that way. I don’t know why she doesn’t like me.”

  “I’m sorry about Dora. She’s been cleaning Briarwood for Corbin’s family since he was in diapers. Most of us don’t have families or don’t see our families, so I think she sees herself as kind of a grandmother. She doesn’t like it when we bring girls here. Corbin even had a girlfriend for a while, and Dora would only refer to her as ‘that woman’.”

  I shrugged. “Hey, my father was a preacher. I know overprotective parents when I see them. She thinks I’m a bad influence on you boys.” My mind flashed back to last night, to Corbin pounding into me, to Rowan and I moving together on the kitchen stool. Bad influence is damn right.

  He kissed my forehead. “You can be a bad influence on me any time.”

  Arthur darted off to occupy Dora. I tried to shove the couch toward the middle of the room myself, but it was too heavy. I poked my head out into the courtyard and yelled, “Corbin!”

  Footsteps clattered across the ramparts. Corbin’s head appeared over the railing around the covered walkway, his dark hair mussed up as though he’d been bent over a book. “You rang, m’lady?”

  “Help me!”

  A few moments later, I leaned my shoulder into the couch arm, trying to throw my weight behind it, but the damn thing barely shifted an inch. I cursed at it, and a deep voice behind me growled, “I don’t see what the problem is. My view of the situation is bloody brilliant.”

  I glanced up. Corbin leaned against the doorframe, his eyes fixed on my ass, which I’d stuck right out to try and move the couch. A warm flush coursed through my body, but I folded my arms and gave him a stern look.

  “I’m glad we sent Jane home so she didn’t have to see this chaos. Dora arrived and she’s not happy about the mess in here, so Arthur’s gone to distract her.” I kicked the sofa. Bad idea. A second, even sharper pain shot through my leg. “He’s left me to deal with this beast on my own.”

  “At your service.” Corbin trotted over and lifted the other end with one hand like it was nothing. We shuffled the couch into the center of the room with the others.

  “Job done.” I collapsed onto the couch where, in a few hours, I’d be falling asleep as part of my first spell. A spell where I’d have to somehow drag my four coven-mates into my dream and then take us into the realm of the fae… a place where, by rights, we shouldn’t even be able to go.

  A flutter of fear flickered across my stomach. I pushed it aside. I’d read the book on spirit magic cover to cover, and Corbin had even shown me a couple of simple spirit spells my mother had written in. Staring at her loopy, cursive writing made a lump rise in my throat, especially when I thought about the portrait in the hallway I hadn’t glanced at since I’d heard that weird voice. I’d never got the chance to know my mother, but through this weird power she’d given me, for the first time in my life I felt like we were connected.

  I only hoped I’d inherited her skill along with her power.

  Corbin lay down beside me, turning his body to face mine and wrapping his thick arms around me. I snuggled into his warmth, and that growing sliver of doubt shrunk away to almost nothing. Corbin’s strength was his protectiveness. He was used to putting others needs first. His family, the other guys, and now me. He believed I could do this, and his belief flowed into me. Maybe that was what Air users like him did – they exuded this presence into the air around them, so that it flowed into everyone they came into contact with.

  Corbin’s lips found mine and I welcomed the kiss, reveling in the heat of his lips, the way my whole body tingled and thrummed as his tongue slid over mine.

  “You slept with someone else,” he said, his gaze intense. It wasn’t a question.

  I nodded. I was about to say that it was Rowan, but then I decided not to. Instead, I said, “Does that bother you?”

  “Not as much as I expected it to,” he said, his hands stroking my face. “But a little. I thought… well, last night was so amazing, I thought… I hoped you’d choose me.”

  “Why do I have to choose anyone?” I said boldly. The image of the orgy in the grimoire flashed in front of my eyes.

  “Be serious.” Corbin pressed his lips to mine, our mouths opening against each other, our tongues entwining. His kisses stole my breath, and I forgot what it was I was daring to propose, instead wrapping my legs around Corbin and enjoying the shivers that coursed through me as his hands explored my body.

  “Share that?”

  I snapped my head back. Flynn’s face dangled a few inches from my face, his mouth set in his customary cheeky grin.

  Corbin swore. “Bloody hell, Flynn, you made me bite my lip.”

  “Tell me bollix.” Flynn vaulted over the back of the sofa, squishing his body behind me. Now, I was sandwiched between Flynn and Corbin, the meat in the world’s most delicious sandwich. Two hard bodies pressed against mine, and the ache inside my pulsed with desire.

  I hardly dared to breathe. My eyes locked on Corbin’s. His face read equal parts annoyance and desire. Flynn’s hands danced along my bare arms, raising the hairs on my skin.

  What’s going to happen next?

  What do I want to happen?

  My body knew the answer to that, even if my brain was still stuck on the idea that
I was going to burn in hell for all this.

  “Go on,” Flynn urged. “Don’t mind me.”

  Corbin hesitated for a split second, his eyes searching mine. My heart in my throat and the throb inside me begging for more, I nodded. Corbin leaned forward and pressed his lips against mine. The ache in my core flared to life, harder and hotter than ever.

  Something scraped along my neck. Flynn. He kissed along my collarbone, his teeth brushing against my skin, sending delicious shivers right down my spine.

  Two guys, each one with their hands on me, with their erect cocks pressing into my thighs, my hips. Each one different – Flynn’s hands rough from his work in the forge, his red curls tickling my skin. Corbin’s fingers smooth as silk, his kisses hard and urgent. Each one sending flares of pleasure through my whole body.

  This is just like my dream.

  Well, in my dream, it was all the guys, each one pleasuring me in his own unique way. But two guys was a pretty damn good start… this is amazing.

  Flynn’s hand slid further down my arm, his fingers trailing over the bottom of my t-shirt. He lifted the fabric up and I gasped against Corbin’s lips as Flynn slid his fingers against my stomach. Everything felt more raw, more intimate, with the two of them, knowing that the other was watching.

  “You okay there, Einstein?” Flynn whispered against my earlobe.

  I moaned in response, bending my hand beneath his arm and running my fingers down the bulge in his pants, encouraging him to keep going. Corbin’s lips devoured mine, his kiss fierce. He dug his fingers into my thigh, pressing me against his hard cock. Flynn’s fingers slid higher, skimming the bottom of my breasts.

  “Mary Mother of Jesus, she’s not wearing a bra,” Flynn breathed. Now it was Corbin’s turn to moan as Flynn’s hand closed over my breast, lifting up the bottom of my t-shirt so Corbin could see Flynn’s hands playing with my nipple.

  I leaned back against Flynn, giving Corbin more room. He bent down and pulled up the rest of my top, freeing my second breast. Corbin bent down, his mouth clamping over the other nipple.