The Castle of Earth and Embers

by Steffanie Holmes

  The guys stopped in their tracks, crouching down behind me. I peered through the trees, and could just make out the tops of several sidhe in a clearing down the valley. Between the towering mounds – their entrances uncovered and bedecked with garlands – danced the fae.

  I gasped as I took in the sheer number. There were hundreds of them, all shapes and sizes, all the monstrous and beautiful creatures I’d seen in the pages of Corbin’s books. Green and black coats twirled around each other, laughing and singing.

  “This doesn’t make any sense,” Corbin whispered from beside me. “Those are Seelie and Unseelie fae dancing together. This shouldn’t happen. The two courts hate each other. We know they’re working together, but this—”

  “That is all you’ll see of our revels, witch.”

  I spun around, my heart in my throat. A fae leapt out of the trees, darting straight at me. I kicked out a leg and caught it in the stomach, but as it sprawled out on the ground another one grabbed me from behind, twisting my arm until I cried out.

  “Corbin!” I yelled, but I was too late. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Corbin go down, several fae piling on top of his body, holding him in the dirt while they tied his wrists with a thick vine. I couldn’t see the others anywhere, but I could hear Flynn yelling and branches breaking as they crashed through the forest.

  Arthur crashed through the trees, bellowing as he tried to shake off an ugly fae whose sharp teeth latched onto his arm. Arthur lurched toward me, fumbling for his scabbard, but of course there was no longer a sword there. Five other fae piled on top of him, and he too went down in a fury of fists and teeth.

  Remembering one of the wrestling tricks Arthur taught me, I sank against the fae who held me, letting him think I’d given up the fight. His grip loosened as he tried to drag me away, and I took the chance to sink all my weight into a kick to his knee.

  The fae howled, dropping me as it fell to the dirt, clutching its knee. My own foot stung, but I tried to ignore the throbbing as I flung myself toward Corbin. I grabbed the nearest fae and tried to tug its spindly arm from around Corbin’s neck, but for such a tiny creature it held on with surprising strength.

  More fae swarmed on top of us. They tore me from Corbin, dragging me back, wrapping my wrists in the thick vines. I kicked and screamed and twisted my body, but there were just too many.

  “Hello, Princess.”

  My body went rigid. I looked up.

  Blake stepped out from the shadows of the trees. He wore the same black tunic and trousers as always, the long coat swirling dramatically around his legs. A great curved wooden bow rested on his shoulder and a set of arrows in a woven quiver sat diagonally across his back. He looked totally badass. Hope surged in my stomach.

  “Blake!” I cried out. “Help us. We have to get to the—”

  Blake snapped his fingers, and sound fled from my throat. I kept moving my jaw, pushing air past my vocal chords, but no sound came out.

  He’s taken my voice. But why would he do that, unless… unless he’s been lying to us the whole time.

  My whole body went cold. This was bad. This was very, very bad.

  “Shall I finish them, Prince?” asked one of the fae, a tall, willowy guard dressed in a green uniform with the same flawless skin and crystalline eyes of the black-clad fae who first attacked up in the Briarwood meadow. “They have invaded our lands and spied on our rituals. Their deaths will be our greatest victory!”

  “We can drink our nectar wine from their skulls!” another piped up.

  I held my breath, but to my momentary relief, Blake shook his head. “These are the Briarwood witches. We cannot take such actions, justified as they are, without orders. I say, if they are so desperate to find out our secrets, we should indulge them.” Blake nodded to his sergeant. “Take them to the King.”

  35

  MAEVE

  The fae dragged Rowan and Flynn from the trees, binding their hands with vines and throwing them down beside us. Corbin managed to tug a hand free and smacked one of the green-guards in the face. Hope surged within me as he swept out a leg and toppled another two green-guards.

  The surge of triumph soon faded as the fae overpowered Corbin again and forced some kind of drink from a waterskin down his throat. A moment later, Corbin’s head nodded against his chest. He was sound asleep.

  Rowan looked worried. “That’s a powerful sleeping draught.” He whispered to me. “If we’re not able to wake him up soon, he might remain asleep forever.”

  They threw Corbin on a makeshift stretcher made from gnarled branches and a bed of woven vines, and forced us to march behind him down toward the barrows. As we came out of the forest, I noticed tracks winding through the undergrowth – steps fashioned from stones and roots leading in all directions, lit with dangling lanterns that flickered in the gloom of the woods. Above our heads, platforms in the trees swarmed with fae – and baskets swung on vines between the platforms, carrying food and skins filled with liquid.

  They marched us down between the barrows, along stone-lined dirt paths between dancing, jeering fae. Many held aloft platters of cakes and honeyed fruits, the cloying scent of all that sweetness mingling with the acrid smoke of a blazing bonfire.

  The guards lined us up along one side of the bonfire and tossed Corbin’s body off the stretcher into a heap at our feet. Fae darted in to kick and bite him, and I tried to scream at them to stop, but whatever Blake had done to hold my throat was still in effect.

  “Show me the humans,” a deep voice boomed.

  The fae fell silent. I whipped my head up, my gaze falling on six wizened old hags wearing green and gold robes, each one holding one corner of an hexagonal litter, upon which sat a resplendent throne of vines, bedecked with garlands of flowers in dazzling jeweled tones.

  And upon that throne sat a man whose presence exuded power. The air around him crackled with energy. It tugged at me. His eyes – like a pair of glittering emeralds – held me rapt, the curve of his smile strangely familiar, even though I’d never seen it before. My feet shuffled forward, desperate to reach him, to throw myself at his feet.

  “I am Daigh, ruler of the united fae courts. I demand to know why you have breached the veil of our worlds,” the king roared, his voice soaring over the crowd of silent fae, booming off the surface of the drum skins, tearing through the narrow paths and on up the valley.

  “Not technically,” Flynn shot up. “You see, we’re actually dreaming right now. So this isn’t me in the flesh you’re talking to, it’s just a dream image and—”

  I tried to choke out a scream as a guard stabbed his bone knife into Flynn’s shoulder. Flynn howled and dropped to his knees, clutching the deep wound. Blood pooled between his fingers, and his face collapsed with pain. No one stepped forward to help him.

  The fae king – Daigh – didn’t flinch. A tiny sprite flitted around his head, holding up a wooden cup. The king took the cup and sipped, that familiar smile turning up further. “You seem real enough to me.”

  “Don’t hurt him anymore!” Rowan said. “He’s no threat to you. None of us are.”

  The king’s eyes flicked to Rowan, then back to me. Once more, that weird stab of… of something… twisted in my gut. It wasn’t fear, although there was plenty of that, shuddering through my limbs. It was this tugging, crawling sensation that I should be able to put something together.

  “Ah, they have brought with them the American,” Daigh sniffed. “I always detested that accent. I can see why my son silenced you. It’s a shame to hear such linguistic atrocities from your lips, but in time, I’m hopeful you can be corrected. Maeve Moore, would you like to explain why you have broken the treaty to step into our realm?”

  I was no longer surprised that this king knew my name. All the other fae seemed to. I pointed at my throat. Blake waved his hand, and with a gush of air my voice returned. “We came to take back the children you stole from Crookshollow,” I said, pronouncing each word carefully, ensuring all the muscles wor
ked as they were supposed to. “That is against our accord. You have broken the treaty first.”

  “Treaty,” Daigh snorted. He spat a mouthful of wine on the earth in front of us. “What you call a treaty, we call slavery. We call unlawful occupation. We’ve been trapped in this dwindling world, the shadow of our true birthright, by you colonialist usurpers. We have watched – helpless and seething – for centuries as you humans scoured the earth, tearing down the forests and building roads and shopping centers,” the king screwed up his face as though he’d tasted something disgusting. “You have squandered the paradise you unrightfully took from us, and we refuse to honor the laws between our people that were designed purely to contain us while you took what you wanted for yourselves.”

  “What’s all this bollocks?” Arthur narrowed his eyes.

  “This bollocks, Fire Witch, means that we’re no longer content to rule over this dwindling valley while humankind poisons our rightful home. Your weapons of iron imprisoned us here, and your historians allowed us to fall out of knowledge, to become creatures of myth and superstition. But we have a weapon the likes of which you cannot even imagine, and unlike you, we are content to lie in wait until the time is right for us to return to our rightful home, to put back the damage you had done.”

  “You’re dangerous,” Flynn yelled. “You hurt innocent people. You steal their children and drown sailors and lead ramblers into the woods to starve. You couldn’t live alongside humans without hurting us, so don’t talk bollocks about your rights being violated, especially not to an Irishman.”

  “Is not anyone dangerous when their homes are threatened?” The King glowered back. “When the barbarian hordes descend over the hillside, swords raised, murder in their eyes? What would you do, Water Witch, to save your precious castle?”

  “But that was centuries ago!” Flynn yelled. “Millions of humans live peacefully here in England now. You can’t just push them all out of their homes.”

  “Oh, I don’t plan on forcing you all to go live in France,” the fae king said. I waited for him to explain what he did plan to do – he seemed to be into that old-school I’m-the-villain-so-I’ll-reveal-all-my-plans-right-before-I-kill-you vibe. But Daigh waved his hand, as if the conversation were boring him. He addressed his nearest guard. “Throw them outside. Let the court faeries have their fun with them. Return through the gateway and compel a human to enter their castle and destroy their human bodies. Burn them all like the witches they are.”

  “No!” I cried, adrenalin pulsing through me.

  “Maeve,” Rowan spoke my name in his quiet voice, trying to soothe me. But it was no good. Panic rose up in my throat. I’d read the spell – if their bodies died while they were in the dream with me, their spirits would be trapped in the dream forever, unable to leave, unable to wake up, unable even to adhere to external logic.

  The king smiled. “Ah, that loosened her tongue.” He jabbed a long, thin finger at me. “Of course, you will spare Maeve from the fire, but you must return her body to me. I’m keeping her.”

  He’s what? My gaze fell on Blake, standing behind the throne, the flickering lantern-light shimmering off the silver-streaked black hair that streamed down his back. That coldness in his eyes, the sheer ease with which he’d tricked me… that was what happened to a human who was kept by the fae.

  ‘I’m not staying with you,” I spat, struggling against the fae that held me.

  “You do not have a choice.”

  “But why?” I asked. “What if I gave my life for one of them? Why keep me? I’m the least powerful witch.”

  The king’s lips curled back, flashing me the coldest, most haunting smile. “Because, Maeve. I am your father.”

  36

  ARTHUR

  Maeve!” I yelled, struggling against my captors as that Blake fae swept in and dragged Maeve away. She called after us, tears streaming down her beautiful face, but her father – her father, what the fuck? – bustled her away so we couldn’t get her. My heart shattered into pieces as I reached for her, unable to get near her.

  The green guards of the Seelie Court had learned their lesson from handling Corbin. At least twenty guards pounced on me, holding my arms down as they tightened my bonds. I lifted my head, searching across the barrows for Maeve, but she’d already been lost in the sea of green and black.

  The guards dragged us away from the fire and dumped us in the middle of a clearing. Around the edge hundreds of fae gathered, passing wooden cups and plates of fruit and honey cakes between them. They stopped when they saw us, hands frozen halfway to mouths. Whispers circulated. I caught the gleam of bone knives glinting under flickering lanterns. All eyes fell on us.

  “These are the witches who’ve kept us imprisoned here for centuries,” the guard cried. “Our righteous and noble King has ordered their deaths. See that justice is done on behalf of all fae.”

  The crowd moved around us. One of the fae struck out at Rowan, slashing a claw across his face. Rowan cried out as blood flowed down his cheek.

  “Get away from him,” I growled, heaving my body up and throwing myself at the fae. I knocked him to the ground, but with my hands tied behind me I could do little more than flay about like a maniac. Two far darrigs landed on my back, claws slashing at my shoulders, and threw me down on my face, sitting on my legs so I couldn’t get up again.

  I wish I had my bloody sword. Corbin was probably right and there was some spell that destroyed or repelled anything iron from entering. I’d have made a spell like that if I were a fae. I hoped like hell the blade was at least back at the castle, so I could be buried with it. Flynn made that for me for my twenty-first birthday—

  Wait a second… I have an idea.

  Corbin was on one side of me, out cold. Bloody lovely, just when I actually needed him to be a know-it-all git. I managed to toss the fae off and roll on to my side, jabbing Flynn in the leg.

  “Oi, you lay off me!” Flynn yelped. “It’s bad enough those little blighters are going to string us up by our nuts—”

  “Just shut up and listen to me. This is just like a lucid dream, basically? We can control certain things. We can make stuff happen?”

  “I don’t bloody know! I think Maeve is in charge, not us.” Flynn jerked his head back just as a fae jabbed at him with a bone knife. The blade skimmed his collarbone, making a long, shallow cut. “Blessed Virgin Mary, that stings like a mother fucker—”

  “Maeve!” I yelled, hoping like hell my voice carried over the laughing and shrieking of the fae. “Give me a sword!”

  A fae came over and kicked me in the head. Loud ringing pounded in my ears, and the sounds of the revels dulled and dimmed. My sword… the single thought pushed through the pain as the fae kicked and bit me, again and again. Maeve, I need my sword…

  I had no idea if she heard me, but I had to hope she did.

  A sharp pain arced up my side, momentarily blinding me. I rolled away from the source of the pain, my body moving slowly, so slowly. Something heavy landed in my fingers. I closed my hand around it, hoping it was some part of a fae I could mangle, but knowing things were rapidly turning against me.

  My chest soared as I felt the familiar weight of my leather hilt. My sword. I don’t know how she did it, but Maeve bloody got it here for me.

  And now I’m going to seriously fuck up some fae.

  The fae kept up their attacks but I stopped trying to fight them. Instead, I inched my body forward, climbing up the blade, placing my hands over either side of it and rubbing the vines against them.

  A moment later, the sword cut through, and I popped free. My hand fumbled for the hilt again. My fingers closed around it, and I tensed.

  Another fae leapt at me, bone blade raised high. I rolled over on my stomach, using the momentum to swing my arm up. The sword sang through the air before its heavy weight swung down. The blade sliced through the fae’s arm, lopping the limb off below the elbow.

  The fae stared, eyes bugging, as its severed arm flopped
to the ground. He only started to scream when a fountain of green blood spewed from the stump.

  The cry was taken up by the other fae, who leapt back from us, their eyes wide with fear.

  “Iron!”

  I leapt to my feet, landing in a strong stance. Ignoring the throbbing in my head, I swung the sword in a wide arc. The fae darted away, desperate to avoid contact with the blade. Not one of them even stepped forward to help the one I’d maimed, who clutched his stump and howled. Iron and metals made from it were poison to the fae. That was why the blade slid through them so easily.

  Two more darted forward, trying to grab my arms. I took a nasty slice out of one’s shoulder, and it collapsed, shrieking with pain. The fae leapt back further, cries of panic echoing through their ranks.

  “Stay back, you poxy bastards!” I yelled, waving the sword one last time before turning away to saw through my friends’ bonds. Flynn’s shoulder was in a bad way, his arm hanging limp and useless. Dried blood caked one side of Rowan’s face, and his usually tidy dreads jutted out in all directions.

  And Corbin… even after I cut away his bond, he still lay there like a corpse. Rage burned inside me as I realized what that might mean.

  I turned back just as the fae started to creep forward again. A tall flame rose from my hand. I gathered the power within me, forming the fire into a glowing ball. I lobbed it into the crowd of fae, watching in satisfaction as it caught on clothing and garlands, sending three fae rolling to the earth, their bodies ablaze. The fae rushed about, gibbering and panicking as flames leapt through the crowd, catching on clothing and skin.

  That’s for Corbin, you bastards.

  I raised another ball of fire in my palm, holding it aloft. “Listen to me!” I yelled at the panicking fae. “Now, I want to know exactly where the king has taken Maeve, and if you don’t want your entire court to burn, I suggest you tell me, now.”