The Phoenix Charm

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The Phoenix Charm Page 3

by Helen Scott Taylor


  The stalker faced them down, wings slightly extended for balance, the tense muscles in his chest and belly gleaming and hard as armor.

  Cordelia’s breath locked in her throat. She thrust a warning look at Thorn, indicating he should stay safely behind the table.

  Although Cordelia distrusted Nightshade, if a fight ensued, he could probably take all three Teg. She stepped forward. “Nobody leaves,” she said, managing to keep a surprisingly steady voice.

  None of the Teg responded.

  Nightshade rattled his thumbnail across his teeth in a derisive gesture. “You leave us, Teg. You are not required.”

  Hostility vibrated through the air, escalating with each tripping heartbeat.

  With slow, smooth movements, Michael closed his book, placed it on the floor at his side, and stood. His usual half smile on his lips, he doffed his green trilby and bowed. “Grand as it is to welcome our friends from the valleys, ’tis normal for guest s to come knocking at the front door.”

  Looking bemused, all three of the intruders relaxed. The tension drained out of Cordelia’s neck and back; a subtle sense of well-being flooded through her. Storytellers often possessed a silver tongue, all the better to manipulate the emotions of their audience. She wasn’t surprised Michael displayed the gift. But she’d never before been on the receiving end of such an effective use of mood control.

  The tallest male marked with the black runes recovered first. He swung around to face Michael and inclined his head. “I bring greetings from the Welsh fairy king.”

  “I return them in the spirit in which they’re given,” Michael replied.

  Cordelia stifled an impatient breath. Yes, we all hate each other, but gods forbid we forget the ritual greetings.

  “Am I addressing the pisky king?”

  Michael gave a genuinely amused if slightly incredulous chuckle. “Who is it wanting to know?”

  Head high, the leader slapped a hand on his chest. “I am Arian of the Tylwyth Teg, here on the orders of our king, Gwyn ap Nudd. We three are gatekeepers to the Underworld. This is Dai, and this Olwyn.” He indicated the other male, then the female.

  For long seconds nobody moved or spoke. Cordelia found her voice first and asked the question they must all be thinking. “ Why has he sent you?”

  Irritation blended with frustration inside her when all three Teg ignored her and continued to stare at Michael. “Are you the pisky king?” Arian asked again.

  Michael shook his head.

  Arian glanced from face to face, eyes narrowed suspiciously. He flexed his fingers, the silver spikes rattling toget her like bones. “W here is the pisky king?”

  Cordelia glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece. “Flying over Iceland, I should think.” She raised her eyebrows. “I’m the pisky wise woman. I’ve been left in charge. Either you deal with me, or you come back in two weeks when the king gets home.”

  He flicked her an impatient look as though he thought she was joking. When she remained quiet, he compressed his lips and turned back to Michael.

  She straightened her shoulders, tense again now that the effect of Michael’s verbal tranquilizer had worn off.

  Arian thought he could treat her with disdain, did he? “What business do you have in Cornwall?” she demanded, her voice sharp.

  Once again, he ignored her question and concentrated on Michael, a frown creasing his brow. “Who are you?”

  Michael gave the Teg an enigmatic look, laden with enough glamour to entrance a football team. Nightshade gave a small needy grunt. Cordelia clutched the table as tendrils of desire snaked through her. Thorn appeared unaffected, and the Teg remained unmoved.

  Cordelia gritted her teeth. Losing her temper would not help anyone. “He’s the king’s brother,” she said.

  Surprise flashed across Arian’s face. “Why then are you not leader in his stead?”

  Michael scratched his head, tilting his hat off center, and summoned a crooked grin. “Now that’s a good question, boyo. Me brother and I have never quite seen eye to eye on subjects like responsibility and work—”

  “Enough!” Arian squinted at Michael, obviously trying to decide if he were purposely making afool of him. Then he turned to Cordelia, his face set in resignation. “Gwyn ap Nudd sends greetings to the pisky king. Or in this case”—he flicked his silver-tipped fingers at her—“his…representative. A few hours past, someone opened an unauthorized gateway to the Underworld.”

  The blood drained out of Cordelia’s head, leaving her ears humming.

  She clutched her cat like a lifeline as an image filled her mind of dark, hideous creatures pouring out of the Underworld into Cornwall. She’d be powerless to protect the piskies—again. The breath stalled in her lungs. Then steadying strength flowed into her from Tamsy.

  This was worse than she’d imagined. A million times worse.

  While she struggled to breathe, Michael fixed his gaze on the three intruders and spoke. “Tell me exactly how this happened.” Gone was the playful tone. His demand cut through the silence sharp as a honed blade. The compulsion of his silver tongue dragged at her mouth to answer, making her mumble nonsense.

  All three Teg started talking at once until Michael pointed at Arian. “ You speak.”

  But all he told them was that Gwyn sensed the gate open and dispatched the gatekeepers to close the breach.

  Suddenly the female hissed, an eerie sound that set the hairs prickling all over Cordelia’s body. “Shield yourselves,” she whispered to her companions. “He spins silver shackles with his words.”

  All three Teg glowed, their skin luminous as though they were about to change back into orbs of light , but did n’t complete the transmutation. The leader pointed at Cordelia accusingly. “You piskies must have opened the gate.”

  She shook her head; her stomach knotted at the loathing in his eyes. “Would we be sitting here reading if we knew monsters from the Underworld could be skulking around outside?”

  He grunted. “The pisky king is liable because this happened in his domain. Protocol demands you accompany us when we attempt to close the gate.”

  “No.” Michael stepped in front of her. “I’ll be coming with you.”

  Cordelia tensed as Michael tried to take over. Then she realized Michael O’Connor was protecting her. She stared at the dark T-shirt stretched across his muscular shoulders. Why would he volunteer to take her place? She’d expect Niall to do such a noble thing, but Michael? She raised a hand, hesitated, then did what she’d dreamed of doing—touched him. Warmth flowed into her hand, zinged up her arm and through her body, defying the restrictive wards painted on her skin.

  He was dangerous to her equilibrium. So dangerous, she shouldn’t have anything to do with him.

  “Michael.” His name fell from her lips as a reverential whisper. He turned, so close his arm brushed her dress. She placed her tingling hand back on Tamsy. “I accepted responsibility for the troop. I’ll accompany the Teg. You have other duties.”

  “The babies,” he whispered , his gaze clouding.

  As if thinking of the children could summon them, Michael’s nephew Finian materialized on the carpet in the middle of the room.

  In a flash, Cordelia recalled Michael’s comment about the babies taking after his father and being able to walk unseen, disappearing from one place and appearing in another. What a terrible moment for Niall’s son to practice his new power.

  Michael lunged toward the baby, but Olwyn was closer. She snatched Fin up beneath the arms and held him while he twisted and kicked, reaching his chubby arms out to Michael, and crying.

  Michael halted, still as a statue, palms spread in a calming gesture. “Don’t you go hurting the lad. Give him to me.”

  Arian stood between Michael and Olwyn and flexed his spiked fingers. “The child is of the pisky king ’s blood?”

  Fear blossomed in Cordelia’s chest. Why did the gatekeeper want to know Fin’s bloodline?

  Michael’s strained breaths filled
the silence.

  Arian jerked a single nod, obviously satisfied he was right. “The child comes too.”

  “No,” Michael and Cordelia answered in unison.

  The Teg leader appeared to grow in stature. Cordelia realized he’d floated a couple of inches off the ground. He pointed toward the door. “You both come with the child, or we take the child alone.”

  “Only if you give him back to me now.” Compulsion laced Michael’s voice, but all three Teg glowed, protecting themselves from the effect of his silver tongue.

  Fin wailed and wriggled in Olwyn’s arms. Arian glanced over his shoulder at her and nodded. She stepped forward and held out the child.

  Michael clutched Fintightly to his chest, his large hand cradling the boy’s golden head against his shoulder. “All right, lad. ’Tis all right, you are.”

  He looked down at Cordelia. “If there’s an open gate to the Underworld in Cornwall, it must be closed,” he whispered. “I’m thinking we should go with them. Not risk a fight. Especially now Fin’s involved.”

  She nodded, thoughts and emotions tangled so she couldn’t separate the threads.

  Michael headed for the door, giving the Teg his back to shield the baby as he passed them. Cordelia followed. “You stay here,” she threw over her shoulder when she heard Thorn’s footsteps behind her. He groaned in answer but the footfalls ceased. She had enough to worry about without adding Thorn’s welfare to the equation.

  Cordelia sat in the back of the Range Rover with Tamsy on her lap and Finian strapped in a baby car seat on her left. Michael drove, with Arian sitting in the front passenger’s seat beside him.

  They traveled along the narrow Cornish lanes, the high banks on either side of the road blocking the moonlight . Michael kept up a stream of cheerful banter for Finian about everything from Winnie the Pooh to what dinosaurs ate. Despite this entertainment, Finian whimpered and whined, holding out his arms every time Michael glanced around.

  When Cordelia tried to wipe Fin’s nose, he batted her hand away and cried louder. In the end, she gave up, her chest aching to see the stream of tears running down his plump pink cheeks, wetting his blue sleeper. She stroked Tamsy, wondering if she lacked some vital maternal ability. Not that she would ever need to be maternal. She could never have a n intimate relationship with a man. The nearest thing she’d have to a son was her ward, Thorn.

  She leaned forward and peered out the windshield at the two spheres of light scooting through the darkness ahead of the car like sentient fireworks. “Are you sure they know where they’re going?”

  Arian gave her an indignant glare. In the dark, his pale blue eyes glowed eerily. “In our light form all gatekeepers are attuned to the Underworld. They can sense the illegal breach.”

  Illegal breach. Pompous oaf. Cordelia focused on her irritation, let the anger hold back her fear. She hung on to Tamsy, and braced herself against Fin’s seat as the car swerved around a sharp bend in the road. Up ahead, the light orbs paused at a farm gate. Cordelia swallowed, her throat tight with anxiety as Michael swung the SUV onto a bumpy track. She peered out the windshield. “Can you sense if anything dangerous has escaped from the Underworld?”

  Arian gave her a derisive glance. “Nothing leaves the Underworld without the king’s permission.”

  The tension in Cordelia’s shoulders eased a bit, even though her annoyance escalated. He could have told her that earlier. “Why are you so worried about this gate, then?”

  His eyes flicked from her face to her cat, as if he thought the cat were the more intelligent. “A gate provides entry as well as exit, wise woman.”

  “You think someone might try to sneak into the Underworld? Are you mad?” she asked. Michael met her gaze in his rearview mirror and rolled his eyes in sympathy. She exhaled, releasing much of her anxiety.

  The headlights illuminated a granite farmhouse tucked against a grassy hill.

  “There’re no lights in the windows,” Michael observed, with a glance at Arian. “I can’t sense any humans, so I’m thinking ’tis safe to stop here.”

  How could he sense humans? She’d never heard of such a thing. Fairies sensed each other’s psychic signature, but humans didn’t have a strong enough presence to detect.

  “All out,” Arian commanded.

  “ ’Tis best Cordelia stays here with Finian. But I’ll be coming with you,” Michael said, walking around the car as she climbed out.

  Relieved she could stay with Fin, she stretched her legs and surveyed the murky outline of the rolling hills and spiky trees.

  “The child comes,” Arian said in a tone that brooked no argument.

  “I’m not agreeing. Not in a month of Sundays,” Michael said.

  Before Cordelia could climb back inside the car, Michael shut the door so Arian couldn’t reach Fin. The two light orbs transformed into Dai and Olwyn, and all three gatekeepers advanced on Michael.

  He maintained his relaxed pose. “The child will be staying in the car,” Michael stated in a voice laced with so much compulsion, Cordelia momentarily lost all sense of where she was, concern for Fin’s safety flooding her mind.

  Although the Teg were now wise to Michael’s silver tongue, even they paused and looked bewildered.

  Arian recovered first. He stepped forward, but instead of going for Michael, he grabbed Cordelia’s arm, catching her by surprise. Shock sparked along her nerves as he yanked her toward him, slamming her back to his chest, gripping her upper arms in a punishing hold. His hands pressed deathly cold against her skin. Goose bumps raced up and down her arms.

  “Bring. The. Child.” The chill of Arian’s breath numbed the back of her head.

  All traces of humor fell from Michael’s face and he stilled. Even the breeze that had been flirting with his hair disappeared. “I’ll not let you go putting the child in danger.”

  “He’ll be safe,” Arian ground out. “But if you defy me, the woman will not.” His spiky silver fingertips slid around her throat. Points of pain pierced her neck, needled into her head. She clenched her teeth to stop from crying out.

  Michael’s stricken gaze darted from her face to Arian’s grip on her neck, and his jaw tensed. “You have made enemies this night.” He cut the gatekeeper a threatening sideways glance and then opened the car door.

  Arian thrust Cordelia away. She huddled beside Michael against the car, her thoughts mired in shock.

  “You all right, lass?” Michael stroked her cheek, then gently pushed her head to one side and examined her neck.

  She rubbed her throat, and her fingers came away sticky with blood. Then she caught sight of Arian’s impatient expression. With a stuttering breath, she straightened. “I’m fine. I love being assaulted at night in the middle of nowhere.”

  “She’ll live. Stop making a fuss.” Arian took a step toward the car and Fin.

  Michael moved to cut him off. “Don’t even think about touching him.”

  Despite her bravado, Cordelia trembled. A premonition of disaster drifted through her like a ghost while she watched Michael release Fin from his seat and gather the sleepy child into his arms.

  They trudged across a wet, muddy field, water seeping into her shoes, dirt sticking to the hem of her dress. The Teg seemed to have no trouble seeing in the dark. Thank the Luna goddess the moon was waxing gibbous, nearly full. Every time the clouds broke for a few seconds, the moon gave just enough light to see where they were heading.

  The clouds parted and Cordelia’s pulse leaped at the sight of a monstrous creature crouched on the hilltop. With a shot of relief that almost buckled her knees, she realized the shape was an excavating machine abandoned beside the dark maw of a hole.

  “We’ve arrived,” Dai announced. But there was nothing to see. Cordelia had expected a dark swirling breach in the air, or at least something resembling a gate. They gathered along the muddy rim of the wide trench. Dai pointed to a toppled megalith half submerged in water lying in the bottom of the hole.

  “Ruddy Badba.
There are two humans near the stone.” Michael pushed Fininto her arms and ran along the edge of the trench toward the rock.

  “Humans,” Olwyn said with distaste. “Probably dead. The gate must have drained the life from them when they uncovered it.”

  Fear slashed through Cordelia. She stepped back, clutching Finas he twisted in her arms to watch Michael. “Keep away from the megalith, Michael,” she shouted after him. “It can suck the life out of you.”

  She wasn’t sure whether he heard her or not. But he didn’t jump into the trench, just crouched on the lip, and peered at the two humans lying in the muddy water.

  Olwyn and Dai jumped into the hole. Amazingly, they made no splash . They floated a little above the ground, keeping their black boots dry. Cordelia flexed her toes inside her sodden, dirty leather pumps with a touch of resentment.

  Arian approached her, his eyes shining like an animal’s in the dark.

  She had to focus her will to stand her ground and not back away. “Please bring the two humans up here so we can check if they’re alive,” she asked.

  He didn’t even acknowledge her request. With a sneer, he narrowed his eyes to malevolent glowing slits. “I need some of the child’s hair.” He lifted a hand toward Fin. Cordelia stumbled back out of reach, nearly tripping on her dress’s soggy hem.

  She hugged Fin protectively, his chubby legs wrapped around her, his warm, tearstained cheek pressed into her neck. “Why?”

  By now, she should have known better than to expect an answer. Arian lunged after her, grabbing at the little boy’s head and yanking his hair.

  Fin’s scream rent the damp night air, sending crows flapping into the sky from the shadowy silhouette of an oak tree.

  “You damn—”

  Before she finished her sentence, Michael jumped in front of her. He shoved Arian in the chest, making him stagger back a step. “If you’ve hurt the baby, fella, I’ll—”

 

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