Coven Keepers (Dark Fae Hollows Book 10)

by Thea Atkinson

  I looked him straight in the black eyes. Time to deliver the coup, the thing that might make this entire horrible event worthwhile.

  “I want passage home.”

  His brow lifted, but he showed no other sign of surprise. “Home to Avalon? Were they don’t want you?”

  I nodded. “Safe passage. Past the kraken.”

  “You bring this child to me. If you do, I’ll lay my magic on the waters with yours and quiet the beast long enough for you to get past.”

  I tried not to look relieved, but just the thought that the vile water-dwelling beast wouldn’t be awake when I needed to get back to Avalon was enough to make my knees tremble. It had nearly killed me the first time, and I wasn’t sure how I would manage trying to ferry a human man across its waters.

  I wondered how far I could push this general, how badly he wanted to get his hands on the boy and the immortal light. I needed to know just exactly how far he would go to get it. Queasy as it made me to think about the boy in the hands of the Dark Fae, there was just nothing for it.

  “The passage isn’t just for myself,” I said.

  “But you’ll be alone. The child will be with us.”

  “It’s for me and my…” I swallowed down on the tightness that wanted my throat as I formed the next word. “Lover.”

  “Lover?” he echoed, and I didn’t like the way his tone sounded surprised at the lover bit when I had just told him I wanted to go home to a place that didn’t want me. I had the feeling both eyebrows had cocked and his mouth was hanging open. Just the thought that anyone would be surprised that I could take a lover made me want to just get the hell out of there. I was getting tired of people underestimating me.

  I had to remind myself that everyone was counting on me. The entire hollow was counting on me, even if they didn’t know it yet. It wasn’t about a small boy whose trusting eyes had wormed their way beneath my walnut-hard shell; it wasn’t about how I might feel about passing over that small bird into someone else’s hands, hands that would ultimately destroy him in an attempt to use up whatever light the boy still had.

  The stakes were too high. I knew that if either the human coven or the Fae coven—dark or light—got hold of the true light, they would kill whoever held it as they used up every bit of energy. No doubt the Light Coalition would try to heal the hollow, but they wouldn’t care what happened to the human housing it when they did. Miriam only knew what the Dark Fae might want with that light. Just thinking about what might happen to the poor boy as they tried to pull that energy from him, thinking he was the immortal light they sought, made something inside my chest ache.

  The only coven who could be trusted and who had the power to use the light for balance was the witch coven. I knew this. The oracle had prophesied that it was only within the witch coven that the power existed to turn that immortal light into something good. Something strong enough that could bring back the light that Miriam had been forced to siphon from the hollow in order to protect it.

  I had to do everything I could to protect the true light housed in the breast of a brigand who had a most frustratingly arresting gaze and who killed without qualm. Because it was he who could make the difference. Not the boy.

  For that reason alone, I had to make this Fae general believe that Uriel was indeed the boy they were looking for. And I had to do so without letting my emotions get in the way.

  “Seal the deal,” I said and stuck out my hand before I could change my mind.

  I expected an electric current of magic to join with mine as he reached for my hand and sent a glow of purple light across my face to help seal the bargain for good measure. But when his fingers slipped into mine, it was to pull me closer rather than send a whisper of magical agreement.

  He spun me adroitly around and slipped an arm around my waist, his palm coming to rest on my navel. That alone shocked the heck out of me, but when the hand that held mine looped around my waist and I felt myself crushed backward into his chest, I choked on any protest that might have left my lips. His breath tickled my neck as he loomed over me. I couldn’t breathe for the fear of what might happen next. My heart hitched in my chest.

  “Your lover is a lucky warlock to have such a fiery passion at his beck and call,” he murmured against my throat. “If I didn’t want to kill you in equal measure that I want to bed you, I might have bargained for something else.”

  Threat or promise, I couldn’t tell. All I knew was this was not the time to make any sudden movement or to argue whether I was at anyone’s beck and call.

  “You won’t betray me, will you, little witch?” he growled in my ear, and it was all I could do to shake my head.

  “Good,” he said. “But sometimes, incentives are necessary.”

  He released me and shoved me at least a foot away from him. I lost his face into the gloom and reeled about, trying to get my bearings. His voice came from the shadows.

  “You have twenty-four human hours, witch,” he hissed. “Before Onyx spills your blood and we raid your coven.”

  Chapter 15

  Onyx was a short but heavily muscled Fae who carried an ancient human weapon I recognized as an arakh. I had the feeling it wasn’t fully human, however. If I peered at the edges in the light that came from the general’s introductory magic burst, I could catch the sizzle of magic on its edges. I told myself an escort wouldn’t matter. One Fae was nothing.

  “Onyx is our best tracker,” the Fae general said.

  “I’m pretty good myself,” I said.

  “Onyx is also a dedicated soldier. He follows my orders to the letter.”

  “Twenty-four human hours,” I said, remembering his earlier words and taking the unspoken cue lurking beneath them.

  The Fae general nodded slightly. “And then he spills your blood.”

  I swallowed down hard. I wasn’t sure why that phrase sounded so horrific when he had earlier threatened to kill me very painfully. But somehow, it did. I shot a glance at Onyx as he shuffled sideways on his booted feet, showing an eagerness that gave me the distinct impression that he was looking forward to fulfilling his duty.

  My gaze fell to his arakh and as it did, the clicking sounds in the darkness rose again. The grim ones. I looked to the general to see what had changed, what had made them give up the unnerving silence they had fallen under when the he had quieted them, but the general was gone. He and his entire escort had disappeared into the shadows and what shadows remained were already wriggling with grim ones rushing at us like a full tide.

  “Sweet Miriam,” I said. “Can’t you stop them?”

  Instead of answering, Onyx started to run.

  It was signal enough for me to start doing the same. This time, I didn’t bother to worry about my light. I threw bursts of it out in front of me as I dodged sideways and back again, losing sight of and then re-gaining Onyx’s wide shoulders over and over.

  It was almost gleeful, this running. For the first time in hours, I’d been able to use enough light to see without worry. But I knew we could only run for so long. Soon, we had to start the search, and the further we got, the less likely we were to find Ari. I knew only one thing—that he planned to take the boy to the human coven keeper.

  But I didn’t know where that was. And I didn’t know where I was. I muttered something about the general’s thoughtlessness to set his pets upon us when he was the one who wanted the boy, when Onyx stopped short and spun around to face me. He wasn’t breathing as hard as I was, but he was breathing heavily.

  He planted his feet and raised his arakh. It took me two heartbeats to realize he was up against a wall and that the raised arakh had swept out to his right and was already swiping clean toward his left at about shoulder height. I jumped out of way just in time to avoid being sliced into. I rolled onto my side and flipped to my feet, crouching in the darkness as I heard shriek after shriek rise to the darkness.

  So he hadn’t decided to run after all. He had decided to fight and had placed himself against a defens
ive wall.

  “So it’s okay for a Fae to kill those things,” I muttered. “But not a witch. No. That sort of thing just isn’t done.”

  Onyx didn’t respond. He just kept striking out at each of them. As each were sliced into, they lifted to the air as though they had wings. Like a rubber sack devoid of air, they spun backward, colliding into their horde mates and infecting them as well. Sparks of violet energy danced through the shadows as grim after grim sputtered to a quiet end.

  “Are they dead?” I asked and sent a questing burst of magic out ahead into the darkness. Piles of grim ones lay strewn about the street and against the buildings. Somewhere in the distance, a light blinked on. A human, no doubt, trying to see what the noise was.

  Onyx swung his gaze at me. Glee rode his features.

  “Deflated.”

  I didn’t know what deflated meant, and I didn’t care. I only wanted to know one thing.

  “Does deflated mean dead?”

  He shook his head. “What humans would call unconscious.” He twisted his blade toward me so I could see the edge glint with violet. I thought he was trying to tell me that that was what the magic did. Didn’t seem too bad.

  “We need them. He will call them home when they wake.”

  By he, I presumed Onyx meant the Fae general. I didn’t want to ask what he would want them for. I just knew we were free to search.

  “We should get moving,” I said, stepping out into the street. The light I had seen in the distance had come from at least a block away, maybe more. Now that it had disappeared, I realized exactly how bright it had been. Too bright, now I thought about it. Most lumens I’d seen in the city were weak at best. That could only mean one thing.

  “This way,” I said, and started to run.

  If we were lucky, we would catch Ari and Uriel exactly where the light had blinked out. And even if they gone further, they couldn’t possibly get as far as we could as fast if they were running in the dark and we were running in the light.

  I couldn’t so much as hear Onyx breeding behind me as he kept pace. All I could focus on was how I was going to get the boy from Ari without Onyx seeing the man. I might be able to pass Ari off as the lover I’d spoke about, but I hadn’t thought far enough ahead to explain why this lover of mine would have possession of the immortal light the Fae sought. Especially since I’d said he’d run off. I was so distracted by working out the problem that I barely noticed that the grim ones weren’t following and that I didn’t have to race ahead like a stream of fire was chasing me.

  If it hadn’t been for Onyx grabbing my hair from behind, I might not have stopped at all.

  “What in the hollow is up with my hair?” I complained. Everyone seemed to want to grab it. It was then I noticed the small sobbing sound. Onyx heard it too, no doubt, and it was the reason he’d grabbed for me. We crept together into the darkness, me with my heart in my throat and Onyx with his arakh held high.

  The boy was alone. Stuffed into the window well of a stone building so old it was crumbling down into chunks that had littered the sidewalk. My heart skipped in my chest, and I wet my lips nervously.

  He put me in mind of a baby rat I had found on the isle as a child. It, too, had that same terrified look in its eyes, that same shivering. Even as a young witch, I had imagined myself in those moments terrified and cold as Freya had found me. I wanted to do for that rat what Freya had done for me. I wanted to enclose it in warm arms and keep it safe.

  I had no idea where Ari had gone, and some part of me believed the grim ones had got him and that Uriel had fled to a hiding space. It wasn’t a great hiding space, anyone could have plucked him out from the well. But first they would have to know he was there. First, they would have to see him in the darkness. And while he’d done a good job of finding a place that could keep his lumen covered, he wasn’t doing such a great job of keeping quiet.

  I knew then that he had accidentally revealed his lumen as he’d tried to climb into the well, and that it had blinked out of sight when he crawled into the corner.

  I forced myself to point at the boy, sending a play of light over his face. The purple moved over his blue eyes, making them look otherworldly. I couldn’t have asked for a better show of proof, and if I doubted it, the grunting sound of satisfaction from behind me indicated how completely Onyx believed this could be the immortal light.

  But it revealed something else in the belly of the darkness, something that reached for the boy with meaty arms. Something that had no doubt sent the boy into the spams of sobbing he was now letting go, something that looked a great deal like a human man I used to know.

  Gus.

  I blasted him without qualm, and he railed up with teeth bared and hissing like a wolverine with a sore butt, but he didn’t so much as blink at the blast of energy that struck him full in the chest. He leapt for me and I stepped back instinctively, bumping into Onyx.

  “Not Fae made,” he said. “That one’s Coventina-infected. Beyond full dark.”

  I didn’t have time to process what that might mean. I only knew Gus was still coming at me.

  “Do something,” I said, jumping out of the way just in time to avoid Gus’s fist closing around my throat.

  Onyx pushed me aside, and I thought for one second he was going to come to my rescue and take on Gus, but instead, he leapt for the window well and made a grab for Uriel.

  “Dark Fae don’t make deals,” he said.

  I knew that if I let him, he would take the boy and be off to his general, leaving me alone. Whatever happened to the boy, it would be on the Fae’s hands and not mine. It wouldn’t touch my light and it wouldn’t endanger my energy. I could spin on my heel and race away from Gus and the Fae without a second thought, and be off to find Ari. I could send the chosen one after the isle before the Fae general discovered I actually had betrayed him.

  But something shifted as I watched the Fae tracker’s arms wrap around the small boy. I imagined myself as Freya coming upon a small child afraid, cold, and unwanted. She could have left me there and saved herself years of suffering. Instead, she had found something lovable in me. She had nurtured it. Despite the ridicule of her entire coven, Freya had given me a chance.

  And I knew in that second that I would never return to the isle. My destiny was not what the oracle had decreed. Avalon was not my home and those witches were not my tribe. I was meant to watch over this child and protect it. Protect him.

  Without thinking, I blasted Onyx instead of Gus. The magic caught Gus’s attention. He came snarling at me even as the Fae tracker whirled around and sent his own blast of power hurtling through the darkness. I ducked. Gus didn’t.

  It struck him so hard that he hung suspended in the air for several seconds, twitching and quivering as the magic coiled around him. When he fell to the earth with a heavy thud, I had already let go several bolts toward Onyx.

  “Leave the boy alone,” I shouted.

  “Silly witch,” he said, easily deflecting the power with the edge of his arakh. What didn’t get deflected, seemed to get absorbed. It ran down the length of the blade to the handle where it glowed.

  “You’re no match. Do you know what this thing does?”

  He chuckled as he planted his feet. Bracing himself. I had the feeling that whatever he was going to send through that blade was going to take all of his strength to forbear. But this time, he didn’t have a wall backing him up. This time, he was standing in front of a window well.

  If I couldn’t overpower him with my magic, I would bluster him with confidence and kick those squat legs of his hard enough that I’d break his knees. Topple him into the hole behind him.

  “I’ve seen what it does,” I said, advancing on him. “And I could use a little nap.”

  He laughed outright at that. “Oh, witch,” he said. “Grim ones have no life to steal. You do.”

  “Come for me, then,” I said. “Bring it, you fat bloated goat.”

  The edge went so white on his weapon it sang.
For a heartbeat, I believed my bravado had been foolish, but then he let it go in one wide arcing swing. It left his hand the same moment I lunged for his knees. I heard them snap beneath my shoulder as he fell backward into the well. Like I had done in the bus, I grabbed for Uriel’s shirt and tore it open. The light from his lumen pierced the darkness, shining straight into the Fae’s face. Pupils so dilated after years of preferring darkness contracted to tiny pinpricks and made Onyx scream out in pain.

  I grabbed for the boy, tucking him beneath my arm, and scrambled for the arakh over the top of the well. Onyx thrashed beneath me, making it difficult to keep my balance, and just when I had gripped the handle of the weapon, he bit into my calf. I shrieked and in reflex, whipped around, slicing with the weapon as I went.

  The jolt of meeting bone with steel and magic shuddered up my arm and jabbed into my elbow. My arm went numb and my fingers opened. I couldn’t hold onto the weapon any longer, and as it clattered into the well, I realized it didn’t matter. The Fae was dead. Uriel’s lumen played on the green blood as it pulled around the sliced throat.

  I couldn’t feel my legs. Even my spine felt like a wet sack. I stumbled backward and fell before I could catch myself. Uriel landed on top of me, and I rolled over. Dizziness washed over me, carrying the flotsam of nausea. I was going to be sick. I was going to heave up every bit of bile in my stomach. Every muscle in my body was quaking and hot tears were leaking from my eyes. What had I done? How was I ever going to come back from killing Fae?

  I must’ve said the words out loud because someone answered them from the shadows.

  “You’d run,” the someone said.

  I glanced upward to see Ari striding into the light of Uriel’s lumen. I thought I heard myself make a little whimpering sound.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” Ari said, coming close enough to crouch next to me.

  Tears stung the backs of my eyelids. I tried to get up and found my strength had left me. That scared me. I was used to counting on my own stamina.