Changeling: An Appalachian Magic Novel Book 2 (Appalachian Magic Series)

by Debbie Herbert

  Kheelan spiraled skyward, encased in the talons of a beast—a creature she could never imagine in her deepest nightmares. Skye reached an arm skyward, as if to pull him back. They locked eyes as he was relentlessly lifted higher . . . higher, beyond human reach.

  One heartbeat, one moonbeat, and then a roar and a rush of movement surrounded her. The same kind of beast that snared Kheelan had multiplied to a flock of rapacious Fae, so dense their collective bodies blocked the orange moonlight.

  They were here for her now.

  The incredible stink immobilized Skye with hopelessness and she buried her face in her hands. Let them get her. Maybe the Unseelies would take her wherever they took Kheelan and she wouldn’t be alone.

  The pain was sudden and sharp. Claws sunk into her shoulders like hypodermic needles aiming for bone. She screamed but couldn’t hear her own voice over the beasts, but the vibration of it burned her throat.

  The claws retracted as suddenly as they had entered her flesh. Skye rolled onto the frozen ground, trying to escape getting captured again. When she ventured a quick look back, the creature stood a few feet away, licking his bloody claws. Her tormentor stared up, his long, pointed beak and ears twitching as if a new, more interesting scent had captured his attention.

  The wind shifted and the Unseelie fairies’ loud screeches increased. Another swarm of identical beasts appeared from the east and those nearest Skye, including the one who had sunk his claws into her, rushed upwards en masse. The two black clouds of Fae flew directly into one another and began to battle. Black feathers and drops of blood rained down upon the earth. It went on forever. She didn’t want to leave, hoping that in their blood thirst for battle, the beast who had stolen Kheelan would drop him in its powerful need to wage war with its own kind. She huddled in the coat Kheelan had left behind, watching for his body to drop from the sky.

  In a series of advances and retreats, one group of sluaghs gained the advantage. They pushed back the other flock and kept pursuing. Skye listened intently to the fading noise of flapping wings.

  A pause of terrifying silence descended.

  Still no Kheelan.

  The moon receded and a grayish light from the cloud-covered sun dawned upon the unpromising morning of Samhain.

  20

  My Sweet

  He was in hell.

  The painful roar of wind and sky and screeching was almost as hard to bear as the incredible stink. An airborne cesspool of rot and waste. The deep lacerations on his back burned so bad, even the winter frost couldn’t numb the fire. The beast’s talons sank ever deeper into the flesh of his shoulders.

  And then the grip loosened and he was falling—

  —falling so hard and fast he couldn’t suck in air. Looking down, Kheelan saw only a black void rising up at a dizzying rate.

  His eyes watered and he shut them.

  This was it then. The End.

  No freedom, no Skye, nothing but pain and howling wind. All thought fled until the only sensation was free-falling downwards and the wild, caged beating of his heart. Thump, thump, thump, thump . . . His body landed on something icy. Kheelan braced himself for more pain before the violent stillness of death.

  Lilies of the valley. He gulped in air and scent and his heart slowed a few beats. Enough for his brain to kick in with questions.

  What had happened? He could still feel ice on his back and legs.

  It hit him then. The cold pressure, the smell of lilies . . . Annwynn.

  He opened his eyes and saw her pale face, violet eyes and rainbow hair. Those deeply slanted eyes bore down on him intently, as unreadable as ever.

  “How did you—?” He shook his head to clear it. The frigid hands withdrew and he was on solid ground.

  “We were with ye when the sluaghs –”

  “—Where’s Skye?” Kheelan searched frantically, saw nothing but Annwynn’s usual entourage of pixies glowing in the distance. No signs of buildings or people anywhere. Only deep thickets of pine in all directions.

  “She is being watched. The Seelies are guarding her closely.”

  “So close she almost got killed by the sluagh.” He couldn’t stop the bitterness from creeping in his voice.

  “We were there. The Seelies started the fight with another sluagh faction to distract them from the two of ye. They’re strong, but not the brightest of Fae creatures.”

  “Not to sound ungrateful, but a few minutes before I got clawed would have been more helpful.”

  “Let me take care of that for ye.” She removed a vial of potion from a sporran at her waist. A fairy version of the fanny pack. He pulled off his shirt and turned around. The pain relief was instant.

  Kheelan put the shredded shirt back on, for all the protection it was in the cold. He supposed he owed her a thank-you. “I appreciate everything, Annwynn. Please take me to Skye now.”

  “No. I told ye she is guarded. Ye needn’t fear her safety.”

  “Yeah, well, excuse me if I can’t trust you one hundred percent.”

  “Ye have turned into a bitter mortal, my sweet.”

  Kheelan winced at the old endearment, it gnawed at his heart. How many times had Annwynn comforted him with those same words as a child when he cried to her about the fairy children laughing at him? Always she was there, stroking him with those cold hands and whispering soothing words. He felt like that scared, lonely child of five again. Against his will, the hurt of the past erupted from his throat. “You left me.”

  The accusation trembled in the air between them.

  “I had no choice in the matter, my sweet. Ye know that.”

  Kheelan jerked his head from those violet eyes. “And you lied to me. My parents aren’t dead.”

  A frigid finger stroked his jaw in a feather-light caress. “I did what I had to do, what I thought was best for ye. Knowing they were alive would have made it even harder for ye than it was.”

  “You shouldn’t have lied,” he insisted.

  Annwynn sighed softly. “I am sorry, Kheelan.”

  He was astonished to see real tears pooled in those impossibly purple eyes. No one had ever apologized to him before. No one had ever shed a tear on his behalf.

  Except Skye. She was the one who mattered. The one who needed him to escape from this Samhain night without being sucked in by any fairies—good or bad. “If you ever cared about me, if you are truly sorry, then take me to Skye.”

  “I cannot.”

  “I’m not going to stop her from activating your precious crystal.”

  “Of course, ye won’t. Ye plan on asking a boon of the Queen. It’s yer only chance for freedom.”

  Kheelan’s hands fisted at his sides. “You knew that all along, all of you. I led you right to your legend. You’ve been sitting back waiting until the time was right to separate us and then snag her for your own selfish purpose.”

  “Maybe yer more like us than ye thought.”

  The accusation stung like a horde of wasps on his soul. “Okay, maybe in the beginning . . .” his words trailed off. Kheelan kicked at some broken twigs on the frozen ground, dismayed to discover his dream had not quite died. “Why shouldn’t I escort her to the ceremony? It won’t hurt Skye if I call in the boon.” His spine stiffened. “She wants my freedom as much as I do.”

  Again, those unfathomable fae eyes stared at him unblinking. “I am forbidden to take ye to her—” His hope plummeted.

  “—but the Queen didn’t explicitly say ye couldn’t follow along tonight.”

  “You mean . . . there’s still a chance I could be set free?”

  Annwynn patted her hair and fluttered her raspberry wings. “Ye must choose wisely, my sweet. Yer freedom may cost Skye hers.”

  His mind wrestled with Annwynn’s warning. “The Seelie Court Fae have no intention of letting Skye go after she does them this huge favor,” he said slowly. “They will trap her forever.”

  “Ye have to see it from our side. Yer Skye knows all about us, will be shown our most sacre
d relic, one that protects us from the

  Dark Fae.”

  “Skye would never betray you.”

  “Perhaps. But I don’t think our Queen will take that chance.” Annwynn snaked a frosty hand on his arm. “Ye would still be rewarded, Kheelan. A nice Fae girl to warm yer bed as long as ye like.”

  Kheelan shook off her arm. “I don’t want another fairy girl. I want Skye.”

  “Foolish youth.” Annwynn shook her head. “Yer Skye would be well-treated. She is our legend, The One, and the Seelie Fae would love her for her kindness and power.”

  “It’s still enslavement. No matter how you say the fairies would worship her.”

  Annwynn’s face took on its sly gleam. “It is what the lass has always wanted, isn’t it? To be loved, admired, and accepted?”

  He gazed bleakly at his former Guardian, the only fairy who had ever showed him any semblance of love. “You don’t know what it’s like to be separated from your human family, from having friends of your own kind.” Kheelan tamped down his pride. “Please. Don’t do this to Skye. I don’t want her to suffer.”

  Like me, he added silently.

  The wind through the trees stirred up, creating a mournful cry.

  “Remember what I told ye about choosing wisely,” Annwynn said at last. She reached in and brushed Kheelan’s cheek with the faintest draft of cool air from her red lips. “My sweet,” she whispered so softly he might have imagined the words. She pulled away. “Hefeydd and Ealdun will escort ye to shelter until the ceremony tonight.”

  Annwynn left as suddenly as she had arrived, her scent evaporating in the void.

  Kheelan knew what he had to do.

  Cold and shivering, Skye paced the sidewalk. No one else stirred in the street lined with houses and apartments. Here and there a light went on behind a curtained window and she heard an occasional car motor from the highway a few miles south. As cold as she was, Kheelan had to be much colder since she wore his coat. Unless . . . no, she refused to think he was no longer capable of feeling the bitter chill.

  She kicked around some pebbles lying in her path. In the gray and brown colored landscape, a spot of color rolled an inch from her left shoe. She automatically bent to pick it up, examining the muddy orange. A chip of carnelian. Skye palmed it between her hands, willing its fire energy to give her a flash of courage and wisdom. A word leapt into her mind:

  Finvorra.

  He might be her last chance since he was her only earthly link to Kheelan. If Finvorra was a Guardian, then by goddess he could act like one. For humans, ‘guardian’ meant a protector, but in the fairy world maybe it meant to guard one from escape. Kheelan had told her he tried to run away once when he was eighteen and the fairies tracked him down. If the Fae had a magical human GPS locator, they could use it again.

  Skye limped the two blocks to her apartment without encountering more bad Fae. With luck, they were semi-nocturnal beings with diminished power in sunlight. She rounded the corner and saw her apartment. Fae or no Fae, she would grab her spare set of keys and hightail it to Finvorra’s place.

  Skye drove out there with her mind racing as fast as her car. If she got pulled over, she’d resort to something desperate like flying. Bet that was something no know-it-all veteran cop had seen before. She giggled, deciding she must be officially losing it.

  Just as she feared she might be lost in the boondocks, Skye spotted the small cottage at the edge of the woods and raced up the dirt driveway, bringing the Mustang to a sudden stop right at the front porch. She didn’t bother knocking when she twisted the doorknob and found it unlocked.

  A stale odor of whiskey pervaded the darkness. Skye flipped on lights and surveyed the kitchen.

  “Anyone home?” she yelled.

  Loud snoring sounded from the den. Skye ran toward it, determined to do whatever she needed to find Kheelan. Even if that meant smacking down a lecherous Finvorra.

  He was sprawled in a recliner, a deluxe bag of chips on his pot belly and crumbs in his beard. His right hand flopped to one side, almost touching a bottle of whiskey set on the floor. One sock was off, exposing crooked toes and narrow feet.

  Same as Claribel. Shapeshifting to human form was not a perfected transformation for any fairy.

  Skye grabbed the bag of chips and crumpled it in his face.

  “Hey, you! Kheelan’s missing. Get up.” Finvorra rolled to his side.

  “I said, get up, and do your job for once.” Skye flung the contents of the half empty bottle of whiskey in his face.

  That got his attention.

  He bolted out of the chair, fist raised.

  “Kheelan’s missing. You have to find him,” she said, taking a few steps out of striking range.

  His bloodshot eyes narrowed. “Why are ye hollerin’ and carrying on?”

  “Kheelan’s gone. This huge bird, some kind of Unseelie fairy, grabbed Kheelan in his claws and took off with him.”

  Finvorra’s fist lowered and fear flashed in his eyes. “That be the sluagh then. He’s done fer now.”

  “You have to help him. You’re his Guardian.”

  “I ain’t getting nowhere near no sluagh. Now get out of me house afore you wake me friends.”

  Skye grabbed his stained t-shirt and raised her voice. “Help him. Don’t you know anything? He’s supposed to take me to the celestial stone. I’m the one in your legend that’s going to help you in the fight with the Unseelies.”

  Finvorra shoved her. Hard. Skye landed in a heap on the floor and clutched his pants leg. “Please,” she begged. Her voice choked with frustration. “Please . . . got to . . . please.”

  “Get out woman.” One fist closed over her right forearm, clamping on the flesh as deep as a bulldog’s bite. She was being dragged to the door.

  “I dunna think ye should be doin’ the lassie that a way,” said an unfamiliar voice.

  Three men entered the den, each in various states of undress.

  They all looked to be awakened from a major drinking binge.

  “It’s the changeling’s woman,” Finvorra said. “A right nuisance she is. Claims she’s The One who’s come to save us all from the Dark Fae.”

  Skye appealed to their audience. “It’s true. I swear it. Get Annwyn here, she’ll tell you.”

  “No need to be draggin’ that bitch into this business,” Finvorra said.

  “Well now, Fin, let’s think about this a wee minute.” One of the strangers, sporting a long, ZZ Top kind of beard, stepped forward. “What if she be tellin’ the truth? Couldna hurt to have Annwyn take a look, just to be on the safe side, ya ken.”

  Finvorra’s scowl deepened. “Don’t ye be tellin me what to do in me own house or ye ken get—”

  The sudden, sweet scent of lilies of the valley stopped the bickering. Annwyn emerged from the shadows in a swirl of opalescent pastels. Her raspberry wings opened and shut once before feathering out like a peacock fan as she settled in their presence.

  “Unhand the human,” she commanded.

  “Ye have no business giving me orders.” Finvorra said. He let go of Skye’s arm even as he spoke the belligerent words. “I’ll not stand for ye interfering in me affairs like ye did last time with Kheelan. I’m his Guardian and I can do as I see fit.” He edged toward the door.

  Skye scrambled up from the floor. “Deal with him later. We’ve got to find Kheelan. The sluaghs have him.”

  “Sluaghs?” said one of Finvorra’s friends in a horrified whisper.

  The three guests looked at each other uneasily.

  The ZZ Top bearded one turned to Annwynn. “We’ll be taking our leave now. We told Fin to leave the lassie alone. Didna we?” he asked his companions. They both nodded energetically. “We be biddin’ ye good day.”

  They all gave a submissive nod to Annwyn before making a mad scramble to open a window and fly out.

  It would have been funny, if she hadn’t been so scared.

  Finvorra decided to make his escape too and bolted to the do
or.

  “Not so fast.” Annwynn said. She lifted a wand and emitted a stream of water that splashed against Finvorra’s legs. It hardened to a pool of ice, rooting him where he stood.

  “Aaargh.” Finvorra strained against the icy trap.

  “Queen Corrigan gave ye a direct order to cease yer violence and ye have disobeyed her command.”

  “And I ain’t touched the changeling since then. Ye have no—”

  “Silence. The Queen has authorized me to punish ye for yer insubordination.” She glided gracefully toward her victim, then slowly circled him, drawing out his impending doom. “Perhaps I should throw ye to the sluaghs.” Her voice was angelic and a slight smile hovered in the corners of her lips.

  “No!” Finvorra wildly thrashed his torso, lost his balance, and his ass crashed to the ground, legs still imprisoned under the ice.

  Skye almost felt sorry for him. Almost.

  “No? Mayhap that is a bit harsh. How about ye are never able to drink alcohol again?” Dimples appeared in Annwynn’s cheeks. “No drinks or drugs for ye. A lifetime sentence of sobriety. How does that—”

  “Can you decide his punishment later?” Skye asked, exasperated. “We have to save Kheelan.”

  Violet eyes bore into her. Skye could never be sure what lay behind them. Annwynn appeared equal parts cunning and kindness. Skye suspected Annwynn assessed her in a sly way. Though mesmerizingly beautiful and charming, she had to be careful around this fairy. There was a quality about Annwynn that was definitely not human—a hint of amoral selfishness like one might find in an undomesticated animal.

  “Ye needn’t worry about Kheelan.”

  Skye blinked in surprise. “He’s okay? Have you seen him?”

  “He’s perfectly safe within our magical fold.”

  Magically trapped was more like it. Instead of relief, Annwynn’s words chilled Skye. “I want to see him.”

  “That’s why I’m here. To bring you to him.”

  “How did he escape from the sluaghs? I thought they were the big, bad, unstoppable Dark Fae.”