by Claudy Conn
“Then what are we waiting for?”
Although he’d said they could help, he wanted to tell them he’d decided against it, to insist they stay safely in Breslyn’s castle. However, he knew her, knew she would do whatever it took, which would mean she would not stay behind the warded lines. She could get herself hurt—or worse.
Better to have her and the child where he could protect them. He didn’t seem to have a choice. He took her hand. She already had Frankie’s hand in hers, and so he shifted them off.
* * *
They emerged at a distance from the barn. They were hidden in the dark of the woods, but a great fissure had opened up and swallowed the earth just a few feet away, leaving a jagged, gaping hole.
Trevor scooped her and Frankie up and did something—she had no idea what—that left them floating a few feet off the ground as he scanned their surroundings.
“What are we doing?” she whispered.
“Hovering—now quiet,” he answered.
She held Frankie tightly to her, and they hovered. It felt very strange, but they were able to watch Baudali, who stood in the field just outside the barn with his legs spread wide beneath his black robe, his arms outward, palms held up to the sky.
At his side was the Dark Prince.
They were both reciting ancient words, and then Hordly said with great disdain, “Well, Wizard, it doesn’t seem to be quite working.”
Baudali ignored him and kept on chanting.
And suddenly Jazz knew. Her Trevor had one advantage that she knew of. Hordly hated Baudali. She sensed it, saw it, was sure of it.
They could play one against the other. Both had huge egos.
“I have to wait for just the right moment …” Trevor gritted his teeth.
“Set me in the field … near enough so that I can slam Hordly,” Jazz said.
“No, he will recover and kill you with a thought,” Trevor said, “but I do have another idea.”
Jazz and Frankie moved in as he bent closer, all of them still hovering above ground, and explained his plan.
Impressed, Jazz pulled back and said, “Trev, that is brilliant!”
He seemed to preen, and she almost giggled but managed to restrain herself, and then a thought popped out. “Aren’t Fae committed to non-interference?”
“Yes, but there are exceptions, not for individual gain, but for the world as a whole, and now we have two worlds, yours and mine, at stake.” He bent and kissed Jazz’s nose. “Be ready when I bring you back …”
“Bring us back? Back from where?” The next thing she knew, she and Frankie were being thrust through a tube whose walls, which appeared to be made of a sticky material, checked their speed. Even so, suddenly, and while she still held onto Frankie’s hand, they were spat out like discarded chewing gum and found themselves rolling through a field of blue grass.
Blue grass? Jazz looked around with a sinking heart and then turned her gaze upward; the two suns only slightly obscured by clouds confirmed that Trevor had sent them into another dimension.
She closed her eyes and then opened them to shout, “Trevor, Prince of Lugh, I am so going to kill you!”
“Where are we?” Frankie asked as she stared at everything, wide-eyed.
“Evidently our Royal wants us temporarily out of the way. I’m guessing this is another dimension, one he must know is safe, so don’t worry, Frankie. We’ll be okay until he decides to fetch us back.”
“I never worry when I’m with you or the prince,” Frankie said and smiled warmly up at her.
Jazz gave her a hug, but her mind was elsewhere. She couldn’t believe he had done this.
He had agreed to let them help—and then, out of nowhere, poof, he had sent them off. She couldn’t tolerate this and would definitely tell him he had stepped out of bounds. Oh yeah, she was going to tell him all right.
Oooh, she silently seethed.
* * *
Prince Trevor turned back to the problem at hand. He knew he had just created another, but he also knew in the end his Jazmine Decker would understand. He smiled as he imagined her angry, lovely, furious eyes.
He then put up his hand and said in a voice that resonated with the voice of many, all of them Lugh ancestors, “You will stop or pay the consequences.” He was stalling for time. He didn’t need to request them to do a thing. In a moment, they would have no choice.
However, he had, in fact, distracted Baudali from his chanting. Hordly also turned his face to him, his countenance contorted with hatred.
Prince Trevor stomped towards the Dark Prince, brought himself face to face with him, and sneered as Hordly roared out his fury.
“Seelie Royal,” the Dark Prince yelled, “you are a fool if you think you can stop us—it is almost open.” He pointed at the mass of swirling debris inside a mouth no larger than five feet in circumference. It was a few feet off the ground, and Trevor could feel the force of its suction power. It did not look quite fully cooked, and it did not look inviting.
“Is it?” Trevor smirked at the Dark Prince. “Think again, Hordly.” Without warning he went into action, taking hold of the wizard with an invisible force that sent Baudali reeling into a dimension he had prepared for this moment.
Trevor did all this without taking his eyes from Hordly and said softly, “Want to try and get through me?”
Saying this, he immediately brought her and Frankie back through the sticky wormhole.
They landed lightly at his side, and he could see Jazmine Decker had a great deal to say to him. However, she made a face and said only, “Oh, ready for us now, huh?”
He laughed and said, “Now being the operative word. Now, just as we planned.”
In unison, Frankie called for her fireball and sent it hurtling at the Dark Prince while Jazmine Decker slammed him hard. He went flying backwards, reeled, stood up, and was hit by the fireball. He hissed filthy curses in a voice racked with pain, and Frankie held on tight to her arm. Trevor had not felt pain, only discomfort, which meant it did as he suspected work differently on Dark Fae, even Royal Dark Fae.
His girls, Trevor thought with a pride he had not thought he could feel. They had bought him the time he needed.
He touched Jazmine Decker’s nose because she had one more job to do, and he knew she was the only one who could do it. He sent her and Frankie into the Dark Prince’s barn.
This done, he turned to the startled Dark Prince, who was picking himself off the ground, and grinned as he chanted. His element, an element he had been preparing, was now at its peak. Water, a great deal of water, was ready for him now.
All at once a dark and ominous cloud appeared over the yawning time portal. The dark cloud descended and surrounded the portal.
Trevor gave the next command, and the cloud opened up and spewed forth a tsunami of rushing, foaming white water.
It was a contained and controlled force and worked its powerful magic on the time portal, closing it in an instant and sending it off, not to be recalled.
Fists clenched, Trevor watched the powerless Dark Prince stand helpless as the torrents of water filled the portal until it imploded on itself. In a moment or two, Hordly’s magic would return, but he would no longer have Baudali to aid him, and the spell that had opened the time portal would no longer be available.
He turned on Trevor and rushed him like an animal gone mad. Trevor landed him a facer that sent him flying backwards. Hordly jumped to his feet and dove at Trevor again, but Trevor waited till the last moment and called for his Death Sword.
Hordly stopped in place and sneered. “You need that? Is that what you Seelie call fair?”
“I am not interested in being fair, only in ridding the world of you and your evil. However, as much as I would like to kill you and am looking for the slightest reason to kill you, I shan’t kill you if I don’t have to. It is my queen’s wish you be returned to the Dark King and the Dark Realm, even though it is my educated opinion that you should be returned in bloody pieces.”
The Dark Prince released a long, agonized growl and shifted.
Trevor knew a moment’s fear. Hordly would go to the barn. He had thought to stall him a bit longer. Jazmine Decker and Frankie might still be in the barn. They were supposed to retrieve the Orb and race into the woods, where he would meet with them and shift them back to their mansion. But had they had enough time?
* * *
Jazz and Frankie stood in the middle of the large, open room, and Frankie said, “Miss Jazz, do ye know where it is, this Orb we have to find?”
“Yes, sort of. I can feel it, and as I get closer that feeling grows. The Orb knows I am here looking for it, because it is humming. I am a sounder, and one of my gifts is the connection I have to Seelie Relics.”
“Okay, then, Miss Jazz, do let’s hurry,” Frankie said, clinging to Jazz’s hand.
Jazz looked around, trying to decide just where the sound was coming from, when suddenly the power kicked in and she knew. She went right to the cabinet and opened it without any trouble. The Orb glowed and said, “Ah, welcome, Fios.”
She shook her head. After all she had experienced and witnessed, she didn’t know why it should surprise her that the Orb could talk, but it did. She said, “Yup, and I am taking you to a Seelie prince who will get you home.”
“Thank you, but we must hurry—I can feel him coming …”
She tucked the Orb against her chest, wishing she had a bag to slip it in to make it easier to carry. A growl sounded behind her, and she whirled around to find Hordly standing in the middle of the room, looking like a rabid, wild, and dark creature.
Fleetingly she wondered how could anyone look so evil and yet be so beautiful all at once.
His fangs displayed themselves, and his voice filled the air like a blast of frigid wind. “Put it down.”
She put Frankie behind her, and together they backed away, “I don’t think so,” Jazz said, chin up with a bravado she was far from feeling.
“I can kill you and the child with a thought and take it from you” he snarled and looked as though he were about to do just that. His black eyes made him look as though he were the devil himself, risen from hell and ready to scorch the earth.
Jazz immediately erected her shield around herself and Frankie. Well, here was the moment when she would find out if it would work against a fully charged Dark Royal.
Trevor appeared behind the Dark Prince, his Death Sword in hand. “Give me an excuse. Come on, Hordly … I so much would rather take your severed head and burn it on Fae for all my brethren to see than send you back to your prison whole.”
The Dark Prince turned to him and in a low voice filled with hatred said, “You think you have won? I will wreak such havoc in this century, on these humans. The future will be forever changed. You will wish I had traveled to the future, where I meant to be a benevolent leader with my brothers. This, Seelie Royal, is far from over!”
He vanished. Trevor shifted after him but returned a few moments later and said angrily, “He has shifted to another dimension. I have no way of knowing which one, for their numbers are beyond measure. However, at least it is still in the past. I don’t think he means to change the future, but it is of great concern.” He shook his head. “The moment he reenters this dimension, the Orb shall tell us, won’t you, Orb?” He put out his hand for it.
“Ah, Seelie Prince Trevor, may we go home now?” the Orb said.
“That depends on you, Orb,” he answered. “Can you warp the curvature and take us back to our time?”
If an Orb could smile, Jazz thought this one did just that. The next thing they knew they were encased in a soft white cloud, all three of them.
~ Nine ~
BANZAR SAT COMFORTABLY and smiled as though enjoying the concert being conducted in the pavilion by the queen’s favorite musicians, but he scarcely heard the music because his mind was deep in thought.
He wasn’t a Royal, though he was a distant cousin to the princes of the House of Lugh. He had been a loyal Council member for eons, but damn if he got enough recognition, and he was weary of being regarded as ‘just’ a Council member. He wanted more.
He had nearly as much age as Queen Aaibhe herself but had taken the waters of the Cauldron to stave off the madness that came to Fae who did not, and he had been re-taught all he needed to know in good order. He was a faithful Fae, ready to fight for his peers and keep Tir ever safe.
He had never liked Queen Aaibhe—perhaps because she had never invited him to her inner circle.
No, that was reserved for her damn Royals—and, of course, her ‘special’ Druids!
When Gaiscioch had broken away and decided to take her on, Banzar had secretly sympathized with him.
Unlike Gais, however, Banzar did not wish to go to war with his beloved Fae in order to take over the Isles of Tir and rule Faery. He preferred a peaceful ‘takeover’.
Gais had been a traitor and was now dead. Banzar was no such thing, not a traitor, and he knew the limitations of his power. He could not beat the queen’s warriors in a fair fight.
However, it was time for her to step down, and now he had the means to force the issue.
He had no desire to rule the human world. They were disgusting creatures better left to their puny lives. No doubt they would end by destroying one another in a final World War.
He wanted only one thing: to rule the Fae as their king.
Perhaps now was the time the Council would see matters had gone too far with Aaibhe?
First, she allowed—no, welcomed—the union of Seelie Princess Royce with Chancemont LeBlanc, a Milesian. Somehow the Council had agreed with the queen that the union would bring two strong worlds together to be ever vigilant against the Unseelie monsters.
But, he fancied, they would not want their queen to take as consort over them a Milesian king. Impossible! And that was what Morgan LeBlanc was. Calling him their leader was tantamount to calling him their king.
This latest behavior of hers, linking herself romantically to the Milesian leader and, he believed, involving herself intimately with the Milesian? Unacceptable!
Her choice of mate would not bode well for her, but it would for his cause.
She must have realized this, for she was very secretive about her visits to Dravo. She was very secretive about Morgan LeBlanc’s visits at the palace, calling them matters of security. Ha—he knew better!
Indeed, she had finally fallen in love, and the thought made him sneer. Even all the fuss over her fallen Druid lover, Conall, would not garner her sympathy if she tried to take a Milesian as her consort.
It was, in his opinion, deplorable behavior, and he rather thought he could sway public opinion to agree with him. After all, his many Fae friends could still remember that final battle with the Milesians just before the Treaty.
It was time the Fae gave over their belief that theirs should be a society ruled by a matriarch.
It was time for her to step down and allow a king to be appointed—and he knew he was the one that could, that should, fill the job. Why only a Royal? Why not one of the common Fae? It was an argument he had practiced many times.
The Royal Princes would take her part, and they were popular on Tir. The Fae, in fact, adored the warrior princes, for they had been ever ready to defend Tir and always won their final battles.
Yes, they would be a problem.
They were loyal, all of them, loyal to her leadership. Even Breslyn, who so often balked at her edicts and broke her many rules, would stand faithfully at her side and fight to the death to protect her.
Therefore, this could not be a bloody battle but a peaceful takeover, won with a show of votes rather than with a battle of swords. Soon, very soon, he would start working behind the scenes.
Banzar of Lugh, not born a prince but with Royal blood flowing through his veins, smiled to himself, visualized himself a proud and ethical defender, working to do everything Tir needed to be done. He was not a warrior, and the truth was he had not fought i
n the war with the humans and the Milesians—though who would remember that now?
He knew that he presented an impressive picture of a masculine Fae, with his fiery red locks and the glittering black eyes he was so proud of, which so few Fae sported. Theirs was mostly a race of sparkling, light-colored eyes.
He had always thought of himself as unique.
Even in the regal white and gold robe of the Council, he imagined that other Fae regarded him as kingly. Indeed, he already had two of the twelve Council members ready to hear what he had to say, but he had to be careful and not appear to criticize the popular queen too overtly. He was the ultimate politician. It was that trait that had brought him to his present position as a leading and respected Council member.
He knew, too, who would vote against him when it came to a show of hands, and who would do more than that. Breslyn and Danté would not only vote against him, they would take offense; he would make himself powerful enemies. He would have to watch them, perhaps keep them busy with a distraction?
Perhaps he could arrange to have their mates out of the way when he called for a final vote. Perhaps he could arrange for an ‘emergency vote’ and override the need for all twelve members to be present? He would have to work behind the scenes to accomplish this. Obviously, the queen as the thirteenth member would not be present. Ah, a very good solution if he could get a majority.
