Concentrating on the Council’s position, I glided effortlessly to Sara’s old cottage, or what was left of it. A bulldozer was scraping the last remains into a huge pile. Back in Florida, I felt my heart break. Choking back a scream, and fighting against my tether, the bulldozer just kept pushing. Remnants of the old blue front door, shattered into dozens of pieces, poked out of the limestone rubble. How could they let this happen?
They, the Seelie Council, watched the destruction from the bluff. Several people, the new family I assumed, stood a hundred feet away wearing smiles. He was a short, thick, balding man with yellowed teeth and deeply wrinkled skin. The only things attractive about him were the expensive clothes. She was a rail-thin, pasty woman with thick mud-brown hair and crooked teeth. After a few minutes, I realized they were building a new house—a glass and steel monstrosity, judging by the blueprints. I felt sick to my stomach. Without any concern for its historical relevance, they’d bulldozed one of the oldest buildings in Northwest Arkansas. In the process, they erased the handiwork of Pete O’Shea, who’d built it as our family’s first home.
The tether tugged me again. The pain, the anger, was almost too much to bear. I hated all of them—the humans for doing it and the Council for allowing it to happen. Eight months earlier, I’d made the decision to leave Arkansas because my gut told me I could learn more at a distance with Ozara and Zarkus believing I was out of the way. I hadn’t considered what another family might do to the Weald in my absence. I swear I’ll figure out a way to right this wrong. I swear it.
Though it was probably a bad idea, I had to see the cottage. My cottage. I focused and found myself in the middle of the cottage garden. My heart ached. The garden was gone, mowed down, cleared out. In its place, a splotchy lawn of fescue and weeds coiled in clumps. Some of the plants near the garden wall had been spared, but the spectacular work of my ancestors was gone. Tacky lawn furniture with big colorful cushions sat in the middle of the stone patio, and strewn around it like a yard sale were toys and other bits of the Pembreys’ possessions.
Not too far from where Aunt May had lifted the violets two years earlier and shown me Lola’s Ballet, stood the new Steward. He looked about seventeen. Pointy nose, wide-set blue eyes, and a milky complexion like his mother, my replacement practiced starting fires. I watched, sizing him up. Fire inclined, but apparently not inclined to Air or Earth, he tossed balls of paper with his skinny arms and attempted to burn them before they landed. He was neither accurate nor powerful, but he was persistent.
Guilt welled up when I thought of Aunt May. She wasn’t there, and I couldn’t blame her. Those people were destroying our family legacy, and my decision had allowed it to happen. Perhaps she’d crossed over and found peace with Uncle Frank and Kyle. No. In my gut I knew she was still near, somewhere, probably mortified by it all.
The pulling sensation overpowered my will to remain, and I found myself hovering by the front gate. When I concentrated on the Council again, willing myself forward, the anguish I felt tugged me several miles closer to my body. Dang it, calm down! God, I hate this! Several more miles flashed by. I hovered in a wooded area in the middle of nowhere.
It was no good. I was too upset to return to the Weald, or what was left of it. So I concentrated on Billy, his hooded gray eyes, his sculpted jaw. I felt my body relax. An instant later, his familiar face appeared directly in front of me. Under a cloudy sky and through a light drizzle, Billy walked up a gorgeous valley. Two- and three-hundred-foot-tall limestone cliffs towered all around him, and a stream burbled over mossy boulders and through an opening it had carved out of the gnarled bluffs. The wetness seemed to enhance the deep green of the canopy and the moss that grew on everything there. The stunning scene calmed me, as did the sound of falling water.
Billy stopped and stood at a small blue-green pool at the base of a stepped waterfall over two hundred feet tall, all situated in the crux of the valley. He wasn’t alone—I sensed several Fae nearby. The Ohanzee. Tadewi appeared from the air, gliding and shifting from a bald eagle into her human form. She was as radiant as ever. As if on cue, Pavati rose as a burbling fountain of water from the pool. All the legends I’d read about the Lady in the Lake and every tale about water sprites I’d ever heard came to life in front of me. Like a wellspring in human form, with gentle seductive movements she gradually took solid shape. Her poetic transformation further calmed my nerves. She looked exactly as I remembered her on the day I met the Ohanzee at Thorncrown Chapel: impossibly beautiful, angular features, flawless russet skin, and silky black hair gently cascading to the small of her back.
The rest were there, too. Hulking Wakinyan waited above us at the top of the bluff. Enapay and Nodin, the Fae twins, stood to his left, and Drevek lingered close by. Sinopa, the Fae with rounded facial features and elaborately braided hair, waited across the water. And Amadahy, who never took human form, was several hundred yards away prowling in a circle—I only caught a glimpse of the tawny cougar through the trees. They seemed to be guarding the small dell. When I concentrated, I realized they were all under a Clóca screen—I’d projected right through it. Tse-xo-be was the source and I felt his presence at some distance, deep within the mountain.
“Billy!” I screamed.
They all froze for an instant when the noise, garbled and indistinguishable as a human voice, grated on their senses. Billy spun in my direction, transforming into a massive black leopard and baring his fangs.
“Billy!” I cried again.
Several bolts of lightning struck harmlessly near the place I lingered. Shredding gusts of wind, frozen spikes, and razor-sharp stone projectiles followed. The Ohanzee and Billy backed away from my voice. Crap! Just like Gavin, they have no idea who I am. They probably think I’m the Second.
“Stop,” Tse-xo-be’s voice commanded in an even tone, “Maggie means no harm.” He paused a few seconds and then said, “Welcome to Eden Falls.”
Billy shifted back into human form, his mouth gaping, and stared intently at the charred ground beneath me. “Maggie? Are you saying Maggie is here? But how? Maggie, explain yourself,” he commanded.
“We cannot understand her—yet. She is with us by Teilgean,” Tse-xo-be said.
“Projection?” Billy muttered to himself. “Of course…but that means—”
Tse-xo-be took human form a few feet from Billy. “Yes, it means Ozara failed. Again.”
“That changes everything. If the Council finds out…”
Billy grew quiet and exchanged quick, nervous glances with Tse-xo-be, who nodded.
“Yes, Billy, but there is no need to guard your thoughts—Maggie understands the danger better than any of us.”
“Tse-xo-be, can you understand me?” I asked.
Billy and Wakinyan exchanged quizzical looks, while Drevek squinted his eyes and twisted his head to the side.
“Maggie,” Tse-xo-be started, “you are trying to communicate by talking. That will not work. Instead concentrate on a single thought, an entire thought, and project it. It will take practice, but you can learn. Do you understand?”
I focused on one thing: “Yes.”
Tse-xo-be nodded. “I understood that.”
“So did I,” Billy said, his eyes growing moist. “You’re still with us? All of you is with us?”
“Yes,” I answered.
Billy’s bow-shaped lips pulled back into a slight smile and the skin around his goatee creased.
There were a hundred questions I wanted to ask, a thousand answers I wanted to hear, but Tse-xo-be had other plans.
He caressed his broad chin between the thumb and forefinger of his left hand, his right arm wrapped in a half-embrace around his muscular midsection. He studied something in the streambed for a few seconds before his thick lips pulled back in a smile, flattening out the deep cleft under his nose. “Maggie, we need you to watch the Council. Events have been set in motion, altering the powerbase of the clans. A new power has emerged, killing Seelie and Unseelie alike. The Seelie C
lan’s influence around the globe is eroding, and carefully planned attacks have left the Unseelie in shambles. Neither clan appears capable of maintaining order. The independent clans are restless, refusing to abide by the old edicts. They, too, have been attacked. The Sidhe have evicted both Seelie and Unseelie, declaring all areas of Ireland beyond the Seoladán at Glendalough and the City of Dublin off limits. Fearing their own safety, they have begun killing trespassers. So have the Ancient Ones, the Hulijing, the Duende, and the Jinn. More will certainly follow.”
His words frightened me. I had come to count on the power of the Seelie clan to protect humankind from the Unseelie, assuming for the last two years that the latter were the only enemy I had to worry about. I had never considered the possibility that another group, one even more dangerous, might pose a risk. But surely the Ohanzee had some idea who was behind it. I concentrated on a single word: “Who?”
Tse-xo-be nodded. “If I understand you correctly, I can only say we do not know. I have considered several possibilities, none of them very likely, all of them terrifying. The Second has patiently stalked its victims, keeping its identity hidden, inciting paranoia and distrust. Ozara has grown fearful and dangerous, threatening to execute members of the independent clans if she finds evidence of collusion between them and the Second. We need you to watch the Council to act as our eyes and ears. It is only a matter of time before the Seelie consolidate their powers. Can you watch them?”
“Yes,” I responded.
“The independent clans await the Seelie response. If Ozara decides on an aggressive course, I fear the clans’ reactions will be devastating to the one thing the Seelie have long sought to protect.”
He didn’t have to say it. I knew he meant the human race. We were the reason the Seelie had forced the clans into obscurity. The familiar pull of my tether, powerful and unrelenting, matched the fear I felt. Prior Maebowns had the full support of Ozara, and they only had to face the Unseelie. Ozara had banished me, and now all the independent clans were being drawn into the fray. Would the Council members fight their former clans? This is impossible.
THREE
HUNTER AND HUNTED
The storm attacked every exterior surface of our home, leaving me to wonder just how long the stucco and glass would hold. Justice spooned with me, unwilling to move, pressing his back against my chest with such pressure I found it hard to breathe. The sound of a shudder slamming violently against the exterior wall of my bedroom drove me downstairs.
Mom, Dad, Mitch, and my grandparents sat in the vaulted media room listening to the meteorologist explain that the storm was still well out in the Atlantic. Bianca, the name he was now using for the storm, appeared to be strengthening, but he recommended that families in Florida take shelter and avoid leaving their homes. The storm didn’t threaten to do much structural damage, but the roads were already dangerous. The time for evacuation, he warned, had already passed.
The enormous surf bashing the beach left a pit in my stomach. We’d all been through storms before, even a few hurricanes, but we’d never had a front row seat.
“Don’t you think we should go further inland?” I asked.
My parents, still under the compulsion of my guards, simply smiled and reminded me what the handsome weatherman had said. “We should probably stay put.”
Justice forced himself between Dad and Mitch on the couch. He had the right idea, I thought. I settled onto a big white loveseat, wrapped a blanket over my shoulders, and numbly watched TV. Hours passed with more frequent updates on Bianca. Its sustained winds grew to eighty miles an hour—officially a hurricane. I protested again, uncomfortable being so close to the ocean. I’d hoped that my guards, who I knew were watching, might ease up on my parents. It didn’t work. Instead, Mom and Grandma set off to gather what they thought we might need in case the power went out.
At midnight, with Bianca still a few hours from making landfall, Mom suggested that I try to sleep. That would be impossible, but I could drop back in on the Council, or better yet, visit Gavin.
Ignoring the tumultuous weather, I floated to the intricate plasterwork of the ceiling a few seconds after lying down. A moment later, Gavin’s chocolate brown eyes greeted me. I focused on projecting a thought, just one, like Tse-xo-be had taught me: “I miss you.”
Gavin’s thick lips parted and a slight sigh slipped out of his chest. “I miss you, too.”
The right side of his face tensed, just slightly, pulling his lips into a seductive half-smile anchored by a dimple.
“You are so beautiful,” I thought next.
The left side of his face joined in, rewarding me with a full smile. “Wow, no more one-sided conversations?”
“Limited,” I replied.
“That’s better than nothing. So, what shall we talk about tonight?”
Gavin stood with his back to a jagged rock surface. There were no clouds, just a gorgeous moonlit sky and a lot of vegetation. I concentrated: “Where is this?”
“Ah, welcome to the Grenadine Islands. We’re in the Caribbean, but away from the weather. My kind rarely visits this place.”
He began asking questions about what happened the night Ozara tried to erase my mind—we’d been through these questions before, but my yes or no responses got us nowhere. I never explained to Gavin that I witnessed Ozara and Zarkus kill Meili and Katarina at Caer Bran. I knew better. Sure, I would have to tell him eventually—I would have to tell them all—but as long as I had nannies watching my every move in Florida, I knew it was best to keep the information to myself. However, when Gavin asked me about Cassandra, I came clean. One short thought followed another in piecemeal fashion as I told him as much as I could.
He frowned as I explained it all, finally asking, “Are you alright? I know that couldn’t have been easy for you.”
I responded: “I am fine. Still see her face when I close my eyes.”
He dropped his chin to his chest and nodded. “You probably won’t forget that…ever. But you were justified. Human law recognizes self-defense, and quite frankly I don’t care what Fae law says. This is your world, not ours.”
Gavin never mentioned whether he had taken a life during the Fae wars, but his reaction left no doubt. I confessed that I had found the Ohanzee. Gavin exhaled and stared at the sky when I told him I was about to start watching the Council.
After an excruciating pause, he said, “Be careful.”
“I love you, Gavin,” was all I focused on.
He smiled. I melted. He placed his thick hand directly in front of himself, about waist high. I couldn’t really touch him, but I concentrated on the deep lines crossing his palm and compelled myself to make contact. I felt nothing, but he closed his eyes and drew a long slow breath, expanding his chest. Then, as though he were cradling my heart, he gently closed his fist and pressed it to his lips.
I focused on asking him which new exotic destination he intended to show me tomorrow. It was a silly question, but he smiled and said, “I’ll surprise you.”
* * *
I sensed Aether around the Council area. The eight members of the Council were present, along with Zarkus and Ahriman, from Caer Bran, and what appeared to be six new Unseelie Elders. I guessed adding a few more members to the Unseelie Elders made sense. The remaining Council members approached from the Seoladán, and as each drew close, Ozara created openings in the barrier. Equal numbers of Seelie and Unseelie Guards stood just outside the Aether barrier. They weren’t facing each other, which I found odd, but stood with their backs to the Council and the Elders as though they were guarding the proceedings.
Guanyin, the stunning Fae who originally came from the Ancient Ones in China, was the last Council member to arrive. I wanted to hear what they said, so I slid through the barrier opening with her. It was a risk to be inside the barrier with Ozara, but I felt I had no choice.
Inside, I immediately noticed the tense energy coming from members of the Council—some in particular. Guanyin, Asharyu, Kapo’pi�
�i, Sherman, and Victoria, were wary and nervous. Even Ostara, Avery, and Calis seemed unusually tense. Each channeled energy in small amounts—the behavior reminded me of a gunfighter who flexed his fingers just inches away from the revolver in his holster. Oddly, Ozara and the remaining Council members seemed calmer, as did the Unseelie Elders.
If anyone should be nervous, it’s the Unseelie, right? They’re surrounded by Aether and lifelong enemies.
“Yesterday there was another attack,” said the muscular, bronze-skinned Fae, Toci. She originally came from a Central American clan of Fae, and was considered a goddess by the Toltec and Aztec people. Her eyes, the color of bright copper, flashed as she continued. “The Second infiltrated our defenses at Seoladán de Teotihuacán. Under a veil of Clóca, it eliminated fifteen Ometeo Clan guards, two Seelie, and my old friend Kukulkan, one of the Ometeo Clan leaders.”
“Kukulkan is dead?” Ozara’s eyes squinted as though she was pained by the news before she dropped her focus to the ground. “The Ometeo Clan…do they bear ill-will toward us?” she asked without looking up.
Toci bent her head forward, raven black hair spilling over her shoulders. “The Ometeo have reached a decision. They have noted, as many of the independent clans have, that attacks on the original clans have only occurred in certain circumstances.”
Ozara lifted her amber eyes, focused and blazing now, and stared intently at Toci. “And, pray tell, what circumstances are those?”
I was stunned, completely fixated on Toci.
“The only original clans attacked so far are those with working ties to the Seelie and Unseelie,” she said.
“We have provided protection for all the original clans for five millennia, have we not?” Ozara barked. “Not once in five thousand years have the original clans fought with one another—not until the Second appeared. For all that time, no Fae has died over a boundary dispute. Each Fae, regardless of allegiance, has been permitted to travel anywhere in the world. Do the Ometeo really desire a return to the old ways? Border raids, power struggles, mayhem—that cannot be their desire. Expelling the Seelie will only invite violence with the southern clans.”
Weald Fae 03 - The Aetherfae Page 2
