The Iron Locket (The Risen King)

by Samantha Warren

  "Are you sure he is the best choice to protect your woman, Arthur?"

  Aiofe bristled at being called anyone's woman and her mouth shot open. A hand on her elbow stilled the vicious comment on her tongue. She followed the delicate fingers up a tan arm until she met Zela's eyes. The faery shook her head slightly and mouthed the word "No". Aiofe narrowed her eyes and pulled her arm away, but snapped her mouth shut.

  "Yes," Arthur was saying. "I am sure. He is my foster brother. We grew up together and he has been there for me in every need. He will protect her. I have no doubt."

  Lancelot lowered his head toward Arthur. "My lord, do you still not trust me?" His voice was laced with a pain that had never quite healed.

  The king raised his hands, placing them on the knight's shoulders. "Lancelot, my friend and most loyal knight, I trust you completely. I have let go of the past. It is time you do the same. As I said before, you are my best warrior. I need you to help me lead the armies against Leanansidhe. This is going to be the toughest battle we were ever in. She will defend that castle with everything she has and I need my best beside me."

  "And what am I, then? The worst?" Kay was leaning against the wall a few feet away, his arms crossed.

  Arthur sighed. "No, but almost." He took Aiofe's hand and pulled her along. "Come, we need to get ready."

  Aiofe followed him out and up the stairs to the bedroom they had shared. On a couch underneath one window were her clothes, washed and folded. On the table lay her bow and quiver. Her backpack was slung across a chair. As Arthur slipped on a leather chest piece and strapped his sword around his waist, she similarly armed herself, making sure her bow was still fit for use and tucking her knife into her belt.

  "All set," she said as she stuffed her clothes into her pack.

  He took her hand once more and led her down the stairs. Zela, Percival, and Kay were waiting for them out in the courtyard. With some help, Aiofe mounted Arthur's steed and he slid into place behind her. She leaned back, feeling his strong muscles against her, and closed her eyes. Their bodies moved together in perfect rhythm, completely unlike her earlier experience on a horse. One of Arthur's hands slipped around her waist and she tangled her fingers in his as they disappeared into the path that Zela had opened.

  *~*~*

  TWENTY-THREE

  *~*~*

  Aloysius Callaghan felt like he had been tied to two rampaging bulls and dragged through the streets of Pampalona. Every muscle in his old, tired body ached and walking up the back steps to his house took every ounce of energy he had left. He dropped the pack he carried on the porch and reached for the doorknob with an arm so sore it barely had any strength left. The door flew open as his fingers brushed the knob and he stumbled backward, nearly tripping over his own feet.

  "Did you find her?" Maureen stood in the door, wringing a dry dish towel in her wrinkled hands. Her face was puffy and red and dirty streaks stained her cheeks. Her eyes beseeched him, pleading for an answer he could not give.

  "No, love, not yet." The words drained what little restraint Alo had and he sank down onto the bench in the mud room, his head sinking to his chest. His eyes stung and he closed them to ward off the tears. He had to be strong for his wife, he couldn't fail her, not this time. She had suffered so greatly when Caena died. He couldn't bear that again. Raising his head, he forced a weak smile to his face. "We'll find her, Mo. I promise. I promise."

  Three days had passed since Aiofe had disappeared in the woods while hunting the sprite. After seeing to David's injuries and sending him to the hospital, they tracked her into some briars, but then the trail simply evaporated. She had never come out. Hunters were called in from all over the area, but no one had had any luck. A knot of fear sat deep in his stomach, but he refused to acknowledge it. He would not lose his only grandchild. He would find her and bring her home, even if it was the last thing he did.

  Maureen's small hands were gripping his arm. "Have you heard anything from Titania yet?"

  Alo shook his head as the knot raced around inside him. "No. All of the hunters are saying the same thing. All the doors have been closed. No one can get through from this side, so we can't contact her."

  "Would she..." Maureen trailed off with a fierce shake of her head. "No, she would not," she said, answering her own question. She had been one of Titania's favorites, so she knew the queen as well as anyone alive. "Titania is not responsible for this."

  Alo slipped his arm around Maureen and pulled her close to him, drawing strength from her. "No, she isn't. Aiofe is headstrong and was dead set on finding that sprite. I think she just stumbled through a door."

  He didn't mention what usually happened to hunters who stumbled through doors. Only about a quarter of them returned in one piece, and barely more than a third returned at all. Maureen whimpered, her shoulders shaking gently against him. He stroked her hair and kissed her head softly. "We'll find her," he whispered once more, though his hope was quickly fading.

  *~*~*

  "Give me that." Leanansidhe snatched the glowing device that the ugly creature in front of her was fumbling with and placed it on the ground at her feet. She shoved the gnarled beast out of the way, knocking him over into a heap, and straightened up.

  "Eiliaorthaman," she whispered, the word rolling off her tongue like a hot stone. It plummeted to the ground, smashing into the object below with a violent impact. A blinding explosion ripped out from the device and she stumbled back a step, shielding her eyes with her hand. When the spots cleared from her vision, she looked up, a smile growing across her face.

  Before her the landscape had changed. Where once stood a wall, now were trees stretching out as far as the eye could see. She had created a door between Faery and the human world. It was illegal to do so, but what did she care about legality? The queens could do nothing to her. She was above them, and soon she would own them.

  She stepped toward the door, kicking the writhing beast beside her. "Get up," she growled. Turning partially, she raised her hand and snapped. "Come," she commanded. A dozen more of the creatures hopped up from the ground and scampered after her, grunting their pig-like grunts.

  After walking for fifteen minutes, Leanansidhe stopped and looked around. She knew this part of the woods well, though she had not been there in over two human decades. She shuddered and her nose curled involuntarily at the thought. "Humans," she muttered, spitting the word from her mouth. She turned sharply and stomped through the trees, swatting at branches that got in her way with such force they snapped in half.

  In short time, she came to a clearing. Standing next to a tall pine, she looked upon a quaint two-story cabin sitting in the middle of a wide lawn. The last time she had been there was to watch the funeral of a descendant of The First, a fine moment indeed. With a wicked smile, she stepped from the cover of the woods and strode across the lawn, her creatures following behind her.

  *~*~*

  Maureen was quiet as she prepared a light dinner of cold sandwiches, but Aloysius didn't mind. He was lost in his own thoughts. Namely, how to get into Faery to find his granddaughter. He kept playing that day over and over again in his head. If only they hadn't given her the locket, he thought. But no, he countered, the locket may be her only chance of survival, the only way to prove who she is, and it would offer her a bit of protection from any faeries she came across. He was so lost in his own thoughts that it took him awhile to notice that Maureen was standing absolutely still, a butter knife in one hand and an open jar of mayonnaise in the other. She was barely even breathing.

  He stood up and walked across the kitchen, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Mo? What is it?"

  With a shaky hand, she pointed out the kitchen window with the knife. He followed her gaze and his heart dropped. A tall, dark-haired woman was striding across their lawn toward the house. She wore black pants and a tight black shirt. He knew without a doubt that she was a faery, not because of her clothes or the way she looked, but because of the hideous creatures that traile
d along behind her. They were short and squat, their limbs riddled with warts and pock marks. Their gray skin was as thick as a rhinoceros’s hide. He had encountered one before. It wasn't a pretty fight. They were fairly stupid creatures, but they had the strength of a body builder and it was nearly impossible to pierce their skin without the right blade.

  "Mo," he said, sliding his hand up to her arm. "Go into the garage and grab my witch's blade, please."

  She didn't move.

  "Mo." He shook her, breaking her out of her trance.

  Her entire body shivered as she looked at him. Her eyes were huge. He had never seen her so terrified. "Leanansidhe," she whispered before she darted out of the kitchen.

  The word chilled him to the bone. As he looked out the window once more, his heart sank into his toes. The woman was advancing across the lawn at a quick pace, her long legs moving easily in the high-heeled boots she wore. The creatures with her skittered like crabs on all fours, struggling to keep up.

  She raised her eyes as she neared the house, meeting his stare dead on. The wicked grin that pulled at the corners of her mouth told him that she had plans for him, and he wasn't going to enjoy them one bit. He backed up a step, unable to break eye contact with her. His heart pounded in his chest and he felt more winded than he had upon entering the house.

  "Alo."

  The gentle voice set him free from the spell and he spun around, stumbling to the other side of the kitchen to his wife. When he looked back, all he could see was the top of the intruder's head. He breathed a sigh of temporary relief.

  Maureen had her hands full. In one hand, she held his witch's blade: a short sword about fourteen inches long and an inch wide. It was so sharp it could filet a spiral notebook and leave the edges of the paper looking like they were meant to be looseleaf. She held it out to him and he took it, strapping its sheath around his waist.

  In her other hand, Mo carried her favorite weapon, a simple long bow. It was similar to the one she had given Aiofe on her thirteenth birthday, but longer and thinner. There were no carvings or markings of any kind on the bone-white wood, but it was the deadliest weapon she could have chosen. Over her back was slung a quiver of arrows, all made from the same wood with silver feathers attached. They were faery-made weapons, given to her during a particularly dangerous hunt in which Titania was personally involved. The wood was from a rare and protected species of tree only found in the south of Faery near Titania's castle. Since Caena's death, the weapon had remained locked away in an enchanted cabinet in the garage, immune to even the most prying of eyes.

  "Ready?" Maureen asked as she tested the string on her bow.

  Alo shook his head and put a hand on hers, lowering the bow. "I don't want you to do this. Go back to the garage. You'll be safe there--"

  "No." Maureen didn't snap; she didn't plead. She simply stated a fact. She wasn't going anywhere. As he opened his mouth to argue, she raised the bow and pulled an arrow from the quiver, slipping it onto the string. Her green eyes locked onto his. "We do this together, as it should have always been."

  Alo drew a breath, ready to plead his case, but an image flashed through his mind, that of his wife cowering in a corner of the garage as Leanansidhe stalked toward her. If he went out there alone, it was inevitable, though he couldn't imagine the famed hunter Maureen Callaghan actually cowering. No, they stood a better chance together, side by side as they had been since the first day he saw her. He smiled and leaned over, kissing her softly. "I love you," he whispered.

  She returned his smile, years melting off her face. "I love you, too." Then the smile faded. "Now stop being a sissy. We have work to do."

  He laughed and together they walked out onto the porch to meet their unwelcome guest.

  *~*~*

  TWENTY-FOUR

  *~*~*

  Kane stood in his study near the fireplace, his hard glare locked on the faery that fidgeted near the door. The man was tense, ready to bolt at a moment's notice. Kane almost laughed. If he decided to end the man's life, he wouldn't get two feet down the hall before he was finished, his lifeless corpse nothing but another piece of refuse for the servants to dispose of. This particular man was lucky, though. Kane was in a fairly good mood, despite the annoyances he had encountered lately, and this fellow brought news from Leanansidhe's palace. Useful news, with any luck. He raised a hand and waved the man forward. With faltering steps, the shorter man moved toward him, bowing with every step. He was a servant, just like most others in Lea's employment. The aspiring queen didn't like to keep too many people around that she could not easily control. She preferred to hold the power. It was much simpler that way.

  "Speak," Kane commanded.

  "Your highness," the man began in a scratchy, rat-like voice. "I have heard that you are looking for information on the queen, I mean, the faery Leanansidhe. It is rumored that you will reward those who are able to give you information that can, let's say, improve your situation?" The man raised his beady little eyes to Kane's, grinning at him hopefully with sharp yellow teeth.

  Kane peered down at him, raising his chin a little higher as his eyes narrowed. "It is possible. What information do you have?"

  "Well, my lord," the rat continued, twisting his hands together so tightly that Kane was sure he was in pain. "You see, I have information."

  Kane's shoulders dropped as irritation settled on him. He was half tempted to strangle the man right there before he could get whatever news the man brought from him. It simply could not be worth having to listen to his squeaky, weaselly voice.

  "And?" Kane clenched his fists, forcing his urge to kill down into the pit of his stomach.

  "Sire, the queen, I mean, Leanansidhe, she was mumbling something about wiping out the line, about freeing faeries from the clutches of humanity. She has left the castle."

  Kane cocked his head and raised an eyebrow, waiting for the man to continue.

  "She has opened a door, to the human world, sire."

  Kane's hand shot up, commanding the man to be silent. "What did you just say?"

  "She went to the human world, your highness. And she took a dozen gremlins with her."

  Kane began pacing in a tight line. "Where exactly in the human world did she go? Did you trace the door?"

  "Yes, sire. She opened a portal very near the house of a hunter. That one they say you k--"

  The faery's breath was cut off as Kane's hand clenched around his throat, squeezing so hard the bones creaked as they ground together. "When did she leave?" His good mood was gone, evaporating in an instant, along with what little respect he had left for the would-be queen.

  "About half an hour ago," the struggling man squawked, his cracked nails scratching feebly at Kane's wrist.

  With a snarl, Kane gripped the man's head with his other hand and jerked it around. An audible pop echoed around the room as the bones and muscles in the other faery's neck tore and snapped. Kane let out a disgusted sigh as he let the man fall to the ground in a motionless heap. Caena wouldn't like that, he thought.

  "Caena isn't here," he grumbled to himself hoarsely as he stared at the body.

  Aiofe wouldn't like that, his heart responded. For two human decades, he fought back the emotions that had threatened to overtake him, pushing the girl out of his mind and closing his heart off to anything and everyone. But that day on the battlefield, a crack formed in the impenetrable wall, and with each passing moment it was growing larger, letting the pain and love from long ago flow through. Only one person could stop the dam from breaking; only one person could keep him from falling apart completely. And Leanansidhe was at her house at that very moment.

  *~*~*

  The self-proclaimed queen stood at the bottom of the stairs, a wide smile on her face. She stretched her arms wide and cocked her head to the side, feigning joy. "Maureen, darling. So lovely to see you. How long has it been? Thirty years? Forty?"

  "Forty-one." Maureen's voice was hard and low. "You tried to kill my daughter."

&nb
sp; The faery beamed and clapped her hands together, a wild glint in her eyes. She leaned forward conspiratorially, resting her elbow on the railing and her chin on her fist, her face falling into false pity. "Oh, my dear hunter, don't you know? I did kill your daughter, if a couple years later than intended." She wiggled her eyebrows as she stood up. Her lips shot out into a pout. "Terribly sorry about that, you know."

  Quick as a whip, Maureen raised the bow and let an arrow fly. It soared through the air, aiming straight for Leanansidhe's black heart. The faery dodged to the side, executing a perfect tumble that brought her back up onto one knee with her own sword drawn.

  The arrow shot past her and sank into the creature who had been cowering behind her. It pierced the thick hide without so much as a pause, tearing into its neck and protruding out the other side. With a howling, burbling keel, it tumbled head over heels, rolling several feet before sliding to a twitching stop. Its fellows looked nervously around, muttering guttural phrases that Alo and Maureen could not understand.

  Leanansidhe's face curled into a snarl and she raised her sword, pointing it at Maureen. "That was not very nice. Your granddaughter tried that, too. Did you not teach her any manners?"

  Maureen reached behind her to pull out another arrow as Alo unsheathed his sword. His body screamed at him, begging to just lay down and let the women hash it out. He stepped between the faery and his wife. "What do you want?" he asked, his white eyebrows knitting together as he glared at the faery. The sword in his hand wavered, catching glimpses of the fading sun in its perfectly polished sheen.

  The faery stared at it with amusement. "A witch's blade? How interesting. You really must be Titania's favorites. How sweet it will be when she discovers that her precious hunters have been ended. By me, nonetheless, her ancient enemy."