King of the Wilds: Rosethorn Valley Fae #3

by Tasha Black

  “Tabitha is not proper,” Bron informed her. “At least not in the way you’re thinking.”

  “I’m starting to get that,” Miranda admitted.

  They stepped out of the ditch and into the woods and the trees closed in all around them.

  Bron took in a deep breath of the rich air. He was learning to appreciate his own realm more in this strange place where the sounds and scents of nature were often missing or covered with chemicals.

  Tabitha led the way and Bron brought up the rear.

  He kept his eyes on Miranda, who was just in front of him. Though he told himself he was merely making sure she didn’t fall behind, his need to protect her was something much more than that.

  He felt a sort of mournful admiration for the human woman, a feeling that he had never experienced so acutely before.

  His brothers’ queens were mortal too, but to him that felt inevitable. They were as they had been made.

  But this woman, who was so like him in stature and coloring, every moment with her felt both beautiful and tragic.

  “Okay, here we go,” Tabitha whispered, slipping through a break in the fence.

  Tristan had a decidedly harder time fitting through after her, but he held the material back to help the others.

  “Well done, brother,” Bron told him on his way through.

  Tristan nodded.

  There was an easy accord between the brothers now. Bron had not known this ease in the faerie realm, and he certainly wouldn’t have expected it, not after they had all stood by and watched Dorian’s imprisonment without lifting a finger to help him.

  Perhaps it was his weakness for the mortal woman, but Bron suddenly had a much better understanding of his brother’s sympathy for these creatures.

  Though he knew it was wrong to harbor such mischief in a court of good, he also knew his brother’s heart. Darkness was Dorian’s realm, but he was kind. His actions hadn’t been meant to harm.

  By the time they reached the pool again, Bron was lost in thought and their sudden arrival took him by surprise. He realized they had approached from behind the snack shack, on the other side of the lap pool from the entrance.

  Tabitha gestured for everyone to wait.

  She and Tristan slipped around the side of the shack as Dorian drew dark shadows around them.

  A moment later, they reappeared.

  “No one seems to have stayed around,” Tabitha said. “They must have decided he left with someone else.”

  “What do we do?” Sara asked.

  “They said he saw fireflies,” Dorian said. “I’m guessing that was the wisps trying to lead him away.”

  They looked around. There weren’t many places he could have been led to. The three pools glimmered in the moonlight. A fence surrounded the whole area, except where the creek flowed freely through the valley.

  “The creek,” Sara murmured.

  “That’s why we saw the changing room walls from that angle,” Tabitha said, her eyes brightening. “It was from the perspective of the creek, not the pool.”

  They moved to the creek and walked along its bank, past the lap pool, the medium sized pool, and the one for mortal babies.

  There was nothing unusual about the water - it burbled pleasantly along in its pebbly bed.

  “Look,” Miranda said, pointing ahead of them.

  Twinkling lights had appeared at the place where the creek moved through the break in the fence.

  “Let’s follow them,” Sara suggested. “I can catch the wisps when they’ve led us to our quarry.”

  They all murmured assent and the kept moving.

  When they reached the break, Tristan leapt over the fence and Dorian handed him Sara, then Tabitha.

  Bron felt a twinge of jealousy at the idea that his brothers would handle the mortal he was growing close with.

  But when she reached the fence-break Miranda held back.

  “Come, Miranda,” Dorian said.

  “I’ll climb over myself,” she said.

  “It’s too high,” he said.

  “I-I’m too big,” she said. “I’d rather just climb it myself.”

  Bron could practically hear her blush.

  He strode up. “I’ve got you,” he offered.

  Bron was physically bigger than his brothers, a fact they had often exploited when playing hide and seek as children. The two of them would squeeze themselves into tight spots where Bron couldn’t follow.

  Tonight he was glad his size was such that this mortal woman could not possibly think herself too large for him to handle.

  She sighed and lifted her arms.

  He picked her up gently and handed her over to Tristan, who lowered her gracefully to the ground.

  By the time Bron and Dorian reached the other side of the fence, Miranda was smiling at him.

  He smiled back, feeling like a garden in springtime, buds exploding with riotous color in his soul.

  “Shh,” Tristan warned them, indicating the way forward.

  In the distance, tiny lights were twinkling over the creek.

  They made their way along the bank as quietly as they could. They followed the creek around a slight curve to a place where it widened to a small pond.

  Sara gasped at the sight of two figures, standing on the bank.

  One was the lifeguard, young and reasonably handsome, his face awestruck, his big, puppyish hand extended.

  The other was a beautiful, coal-black horse.

  It stood easily thirty hands tall, thick muscles rippling under a satiny coat that gleamed in the light of the moon. Its long, shining mane lifted slightly in the summer breeze, and the hair of its tail and fluffy fetlocks moved in tandem so that the horse appeared to be moving, even though it wasn’t. Between the lift of its fur and the dappled moonlight from the trees above, it almost looked like it was…

  Underwater.

  “No,” Bron roared.

  But it was too late.

  The boy’s hand touched the velvety nose of the sinister steed and in a heartbeat, he was being pulled inexorably into the water.

  The creature was no horse. It was a kelpie.

  And kelpies lived to drown.

  They drowned animals and ate them.

  They drowned mortals and ate them.

  They drowned other fae creatures just to watch them struggle and soundlessly scream.

  And now this young boy was going to die in the cold water if something wasn’t done.

  Before Bron could even decide what to do, he saw Miranda move. She sprinted toward the boy, singular in her purpose.

  She had known what that kelpie was by instinct, though Bron knew she couldn’t name what it was.

  As the inky horse pulled the boy under, Miranda dove in after them, her body pale against the black water.

  “Miranda,” Bron cried, his voice breaking as he ran after her.

  Dorian was calling midnight now, shadows gathering over his dark head, swirling over the creek to blot out the moonlight.

  Sara held out the mirror in quivering hands as Tabitha followed Miranda into the depths.

  Bron dove in. Even though it was full summer, the water was so cold he thought it might stop his heart.

  Instantly, he felt the presence of the algae and fish that called this place their home. Their universe was awash in activity and they sensed the inherent wrongness of the kelpie.

  Pushing their bubbling fretfulness aside, Bron reached out with his mind for Miranda and found her struggling.

  She was somewhere on the rocky bottom of this pond, hooves holding her down as the kelpie raged against her for trying to steal its prey.

  Bron moved toward them, feeling for the boy.

  A grassy green energy tinged the water where the young one thrashed.

  “Easy,” Bron murmured when he felt warm flesh against his hand.

  He could feel the kelpie now. It was not really a horse, or he could have communicated with it easily. Its energy was pinched and wild.

&
nbsp; He placed a hand on its muscular neck and managed to cling on to the rough mane.

  “Easy,” he said again, trying to reach the part of it that was a horse.

  It stilled for an instant and he heard Miranda and the boy both break the surface of the water.

  The boy scrambled instantly for the bank, where Sara and Tabitha pulled him up.

  “Are you okay?” Bron heard Sara ask.

  The boy ran into the trees, presumably back to his car and home.

  “Easy,” Bron told the kelpie again.

  It tossed its head and he could see the whites of its eyes.

  “Easy,” Miranda whispered from the other side of the beast.

  Bron noticed that her hand was on its sleek neck, same as his.

  She was echoing his words and commands.

  And it was working.

  Between his command of the horse nature of the beast and her ability to compel creatures with her words, they were holding the thing still.

  “Now, Sara,” Tabitha said quietly, realizing they had a small window of opportunity.

  Gorgeous hunter of the sea,

  Mouth so hungry, hooves so free,

  You came here to find new prey,

  Shallow water stole it away,

  Empty belly, you need more,

  Hunt no more upon this shore,

  Back to your home and waters deep

  With prey to chase and souls to keep

  Flimsy boats, prey at the helm,

  Are back inside your mirror realm.

  Sara closed her eyes.

  Bron felt huge muscles move in slow motion under his hands.

  The kelpie leapt bonelessly out of the water and disappeared into the mirror shard in Sara’s hands as Dorian bound the veil of midnight tightly around them.

  An instant later, it was done.

  Sara held the mirror, an amazed look on her face.

  “Where’s Tristan?” Tabitha asked.

  They looked around.

  “There,” Dorian said, pointing past the inlet.

  Tristan stood in the distance. Light emanated from his whole body.

  The Will o’ the wisps surrounded him like stars in a galaxy.

  Sara took off toward him, digging in her bag for the last mirror shard.

  Dorian was right behind her, midnight trailing behind him like a cloak.

  “Are you okay?” Bron asked Miranda.

  “I’m fine,” she gasped. “We should help them.”

  “No, love,” he told her, holding her close. “The wisps have nothing left to lure travelers to. They’ll give up without a fight.”

  She relaxed slightly in his arms and he became aware of the warmth blossoming between them.

  “You’re crazy,” he murmured into her hair. “You could have died.”

  “The boy was in trouble,” she said. “I can take care of myself.”

  And he loved her for her pluck, even though she had clearly been on the creek bed being trampled and drowned when he’d found her.

  “I was glad to see you though,” she admitted.

  He threw his head back and laughed.

  Beyond them, he could hear Sara singing to the wisps, drawing them into their shard.

  “I guess that’s it,” Miranda said softly. “No more monsters.”

  He heard what she was saying, and knew what it meant. There was no more reason for them to spend time together.

  He felt as if the garden in his soul were withering.

  The others cheered as they all headed down the bank.

  “We still have to return the shards to the mirror,” he told her. “You’ll come with us for that. You’re the only one who is legally allowed to be there.”

  “Sure,” she said, looking chastened. “Of course.”

  “I didn’t mean—” he began.

  “It’s fine,” she said lightly.

  “Ready to head to the mansion?” Sara asked excitedly as the others joined them.

  “Sure,” Bron said. “Miranda is coming, too.”

  “Of course she is,” Tabitha said, marching past him to grab Miranda by the arm and drag her back toward the pool.

  “We did it, brothers,” Tristan said brightly.

  It was good to see Tristan looking so happy. For all that he was the King of Light, he had always been sullen. Not so much anymore. Bron suspected it was Tabitha’s effect on him.

  Dorian clapped a hand on Bron’s shoulder.

  “She’s lovely,” Dorian said.

  “Who?” Bron asked.

  Dorian let out a barking laugh and Bron almost tripped he was so surprised.

  “Having a queen suits your humor, brother,” Bron said.

  “You should try it,” Dorian told him.

  “They’re mortal,” Bron said, wishing he understood why they were so drawn to these short-lived women. “What will you do when she’s gone?”

  “No idea,” Dorian said. “To be honest, I can’t picture it at all. I’m just trying to enjoy what we have for as long as we have it.”

  “But she puts herself in danger,” Bron said. “How can you let her chase these monsters?”

  “She’s good at it, and it makes her happy,” Dorian said. “Who am I to stop her?”

  “You’re the bloody King of Darkness,” Bron retorted.

  “Before her, I was a pauper,” Dorian said with a strange half-smile.

  Bron observed his brother in wonder.

  But Dorian only walked on, past the pools and through the fence to join his queen.

  His queen…

  Was that the feeling that was drawing him to Miranda?

  Bron pushed the bothersome thought aside and ran to join his brothers.

  10

  Miranda

  Miranda followed the others into the mansion on the cliffside.

  Bron had been silent in the car the whole way over.

  She wasn’t sure if she had done something wrong, or if he was merely pensive. She didn’t really blame him. After all, this was the end of their adventure.

  The six of them stepped up onto the porch without speaking, all of them perhaps awed at the magnitude of what they were about to do.

  Tristan stepped forward, cupping the padlock that hung from the door in his hand.

  It sprung open with a click.

  He turned the knob and the door swung inward to reveal the interior of the empty mansion.

  Miranda had been here before, but only during the day. The place was kind of cool but also depressing with its nests of cobwebs and old furniture standing silently like mourners at a funeral.

  In the darkness, the dust disappeared and she saw only the elegant lines of the curved staircase and the moonlight on the black and white tiles of the foyer.

  “Come on,” Sara whispered.

  They headed into the conservatory.

  A huge section was missing from the mirror on the wall. This was the part that had been smashed when Sara released Dorian and the monsters.

  Sara crouched on the floor, pulling shards out of her bag and lining them up in order.

  “There,” she said in satisfaction.

  Sure enough, the pieces on the floor fit together like a puzzle, in the exact shape of the missing section on the wall.

  Tabitha pulled out a roll of duct tape and they worked together to stick the pieces in place.

  When they were finished, the mirror was whole once more, with cracks outlining each shard.

  “Tabitha,” Tristan said quietly, holding a fog of warm, soft light between his palms.

  Instantly, Miranda felt peace in her soul. She wondered if Tristan was using his powers to lend confidence to his queen.

  Tabitha extended her hands to touch the mirror as Dorian pulled the shadows down around them all.

  Miranda felt a tremor, as if the whole house were holding its breath.

  But nothing happened. Scars still rent the mirror.

  “I don’t understand,” Tabitha said.

  “Try again,�
� Tristan encouraged her.

  They all focused their energies and the room filled with shadows once more.

  When Dorian lifted the darkness again, the mirror was the same.

  “I can’t restore it,” Tabitha said, shaking her head. “It’s not ready to come together.”

  “Oh,” Sara said. “The corner.”

  “Of course,” Tabitha said, turning one of the mounts that held the mirror in place to reveal another missing piece. “We noticed this piece was missing before Sara broke the rest of it. I didn’t even think about it. But it feels like that’s what’s holding it from going back together. It wants to be whole.”

  “But you said each shard was a creature,” Miranda said. “So if a piece is missing, does that mean…”

  “Something is loose, and has been,” Bron said. “Something that was already here in the realm before Sara freed Dorian and the other creatures.”

  “That’s impossible,” Sara said. “If there were a monster, we’d know it.”

  Her words hung in the air.

  Miranda moved to look at the broken corner of the mirror.

  There was something about it, something about the shape, it was almost familiar…

  Oh, God…

  She had seen it before.

  It shouldn’t have been possible, but she was sure of it.

  “I-I have to check my email,” she yelped, and dashed from the room.

  Even the soaring ceiling of the foyer felt like it was closing in.

  Miranda dashed outside, off the covered porch and into the rose garden, where moonlight turned the flowers a deep indigo.

  Out of the looming shadow of that horrid house, Miranda felt like she could breathe again.

  She closed her eyes and pictured the mirror shard. Maybe she had been wrong about it…

  But in her mind’s eye it was right there. She allowed herself to go back to the time when she’d seen it.

  Mr. Ward had asked her to accompany him to retrieve a special pen from a private lockbox. It was protected by three layers of security. A personal guard stood on duty outside his office at all times. The door to the office could only be opened through a biometric lock that responded to Cullen Ward’s handprint. And finally, the box was tucked away in a secret space behind a false closet that was secured by an optic scanner attuned to her boss’s face.