by Holly Bargo
“Hello, Luthhir. Is the rest of the household up then?”
“I suppose you awakened hungry this morning.”
She tilted her head to one side and realized that, yes, she was hungry—hungrier than usual. Or perhaps she was hungry as per usual. The restoration of her magic must be consuming additional energy that made her hungrier than she’d been any morning since arriving in these fae lands. No wonder she’d never had trouble retaining a slender figure, she thought. The magic took a lot of energy to sustain.
Setting down the book, she rose from the window seat and gave Luthhir a mysterious smile. “Yes, I suppose I did.”
The little man looked askance at her. “Word is that you kept company with the swifts last night.”
Corinne shrugged. “They wanted to see me. Who am I to deny them?”
The halfling did not lose his suspicious look, but changed the subject. “Since you have readied yourself, I shall escort you to the breakfast room.”
As per usual, she fell into step behind him. “Luthhir, I know the way by now. And if I didn’t, the castle would make sure I got there.”
“The castle took you elsewhere yesterday. The midnight swift carried you from the Great Forest.”
“So, I’m to blame for the castle’s collusion with the unicorns?”
“Of course, not, my lady. This is just highly irregular. The swifts … er … do not … er … favor the Erlking.”
“I can’t imagine why not,” came the dry response.
Luthhir coughed delicately. “That’s neither here nor there and I respectfully ask that you not mention I said anything about that to his majesty.”
“Oh, you can count on my discretion,” she assured him and wondered how she would use that little bit of leverage. “You know, Luthhir?”
“Aye, my lady?”
“I’ve been rather sedentary since arriving here. I think I’d like to go outside today.”
“Which garden would you enjoy today?”
“No garden. I want to leave the castle, may take a trail ride.”
Luthhir gasped. “You mustn’t leave the grounds.”
“Why not? Does the Erlking have bands of marauders lurking beyond the castle walls?”
“Of course, not. That’s preposterous.”
“Then why can’t I take a hike or ride beyond the castle? How dangerous could it be?”
“Neither the Erlking nor his lady would tolerate any harm coming to you!”
“So, why can’t I leave the castle?”
Luthhir’s expression turned mutinous. “You’d best inquire of his majesty. I haven’t the authority to permit you to leave.”
“I didn’t need anyone’s permission last night,” she muttered under her breath as the breakfast room door opened. Stepping into the room, she squared her shoulders and pasted a pleasant smile upon her face.
“Good morning, Oriel, Gus.”
The Erlking glared at her. Oriel smiled and said coyly, “I heard you had an adventure last night.”
“I met the unicorns, if that’s what you mean,” Corinne responded as she took a seat. Servants leaped into action and quickly brought her a heaping plate and poured her a cup of coffee. Corinne took an appreciative sip of the rich, fragrant brew and said, “One of these days you’re going to tell me where you get this coffee.”
“Don’t try to distract me, young lady. Gus, of course, brings it to me from the Old World.”
“You mean Europe?”
“No, silly, our former home: Planet Earth and mundane dimension.”
“So, he makes regular trips?”
“No,” the Erlking answered in a tone that brooked no further speculation as to his activities. “You shall not leave the castle again without proper escort.”
Corinne set down her cup and flatted both palms on the tabletop. Leaning forward, she hissed, “I didn’t exactly ask to be deposited in the Great Forest.”
“Now, Gus,” Oriel soothed, placing a slender hand on his forearm. His burly shoulders relaxed as though that simple touch really did soothe him like a shot of tranquilizer. “We cannot take her to task for the castle’s decision to heed the unicorns’ summons.”
“Summons?” Corinne echoed.
“None dare ignore a summons from the denizens of the Deepwood,” Oriel said without humor. Her sober tone held the other woman’s rapt interest. “Except for perhaps the Unseelie king, the Erlking, and the archivist.”
“Who’s this archivist?” Corinne asked, allowing her focus to be distracted.
“A cousin of sorts,” the Erlking answered. “We three are related, though the ties are ancient and distant.”
“’Tis said that Gus, Uberon, and Enders—that’s the archivist—are the oldest and most powerful fae in all this realm, except for the two unicorns.” Oriel’s voice rang with pride for her mate, the most feared warrior across many worlds. “Gus is the highest and final arbiter of justice.”
“Judge, jury, and executioner?” Corinne hazarded a guess, wondering how corrupted that power had become.
“Don’t look so doubtful, my dear. Gus leads the Wild Hunt. His prey is the guilty and only those who wish to risk their own destruction will call upon his justice.”
“Is that justice why I’m not allowed outside the castle walls?” Corinne asked before her courage crumbled into dust.
“Partially,” Oriel replied as her mate shoved back his chair and rose from the table. “There are those who resent his authority and would seek to usurp it. They also seek to harm him by harming those for whom he cares.”
“So, you’re a prisoner, too.”
Oriel looked pained and averted her eyes.
“Cease,” the Erlking snapped, the fierce glint in his eyes blazing into barely contained rage. “I am charged with your safety and you shall do nothing to imperil that.”
Corinne’s jaw dropped, but no words came forth.
“And if anything—anything—you do causes harm to my mate, then I will crush you with my bare fists. Her well-being is more important than anything to me.”
Corinne’s gaze locked on the clenching and unclenching of those massive, scarred fists and knew without a doubt he meant every word. She lowered her gaze. “I am sorry, sir. I did not mean to cause offense.”
“Yes, you did.”
She flinched at the bald statement and intuitively knew no excuse would suffice. “I am sorry. Please know that you have my gratitude; however, I chafe at being confined.”
“A woman’s independence is a rare thing in fae culture,” Oriel empathized. “I forget that you have not had the centuries I have had to adjust.”
“Centuries?” Corinne parroted in disbelief. “You look no older than I. Maybe even younger.”
“Centuries. You are so very young.”
“But, centuries ago women weren’t all that independent either.”
“Time moves differently between here and the Old World. What passes for centuries here may or may not pass for minutes or days there and millennia elsewhere.”
“Now, I’m really confused.”
“Eat your breakfast, Corinne. I can see that you have become unbearably restless and will do my best to help you work it off. Now—”
The forlorn cry of a horn reverberated through the castle.
Corinne watched, fascinated, as the Erlking’s attention pricked like a wolf’s, his focus going laser keen. The glint in his eyes flared and he left the room, long strides covering the distance seemingly without haste but demonstrating both speed and purpose. He brought his fingers to his lips and a shrill whistle pierced the air.
Oriel caught Corinne’s silent curiosity and answered the unspoken questions. “The Erlking’s justice has been summoned. He must go.”
“How long?”
Oriel shrugged. “It varies. He might return within a day or weeks. I have yet to hear of the guilty eluding the Wild Hunt longer than one cycle of the moons.”
“And when he catches the criminal?”
Oriel shuddered with delicate distaste. In the distance beyond the mullioned windows rose savage howls. “Do not ask and pray you never witness the justice of the Wild Hunt.”
Corinne nodded, realizing that the Hunt had only one gory outcome. No, she did not want to witness that. However, she could not help but ask, “What happens if the accused is actually innocent?”
Oriel looked a little ill at that, but she still answered. “Then the accuser meets the Erlking’s justice.”
The younger woman realized that, in the fae lands’ highest court, there were no appeals. She nodded and bent her head to choke down her breakfast.
Later that day she found herself once again in her hostess’ lily garden with a book on her lap and the soothing sound of trickling water mixing with the soft music of a breeze soughing through the branches of an ornamental shade tree. Small orange petals drifted from the tree’s fading flowers and caught in her hair and the fabric of her gown. She looked up, squinting into the sun’s glare, and thought that she’d never known trees to bloom in late summer or early autumn, but here they did. The pretty display put her in mind of spring and beckoned her to forget that winter was coming.
“Winter is coming,” she murmured and grinned to herself. “You’ve been reading too much George R. R. Martin, my girl.”
“Oh, you’ve read his work?” Oriel inquired as she sat on the marble bench next to her, carrying a book in her own delicate hand. “He’s one of my favorite authors.”
Corinne held herself still, letting the surprise of the other woman’s unannounced arrival wash through her. Apparently everyone in this place had mastered the art of sneaking up on people. Holding a hand up to shade her eyes, she replied, “I’m surprised you have.”
“Gus indulges me,” Oriel chuckled. “Every so often he storms the bookstores and returns with sacks full of books. He hasn’t quite gotten the hang of online ordering though.”
“I’m not the most technically savvy person either,” Corinne said. “Before I came here, I didn’t even have a cell phone because there was no reception where I lived. Having one wouldn’t have made much sense.”
She paused, then asked, “How long have you been here that you’ve heard of online bookstores?”
“Remember what I said about time not moving equally among dimensions?”
Corinne nodded.
Oriel smiled and said, “I’d venture to say that we’re probably contemporaries back on Earth, but that Gus found me and brought me back here somewhere between five hundred and a thousand years ago fae time.”
“Fae time,” Corinne echoed.
“I can’t go back, either, so Gus does his best to bring me back the bits about home I loved. I’m sure Uberon will do the same for you.
Corinne snorted. “I can’t imagine Uberon dancing attendance on me like that.”
Oriel’s smile faded. “Don’t discount the strength of the soul bond between mates. We females get the best of it, I’m quite sure.”
“I don’t see how.” Corinne gestured to the garden surrounding them. “Not that this isn’t lovely, but you’re stuck here. Even a gilded cage is still a cage.”
“I felt much the same as you do when Gus first claimed me. I chafed at the restrictions. But then one day I did go wandering and I was abducted. I saw what my being in peril did to Gus and it wasn’t something I ever wanted to see again. He puts my welfare above everything. He will fulfill my slightest whim if I only whisper it into the air.”
“But he … he … he treats you like a … a blow-up doll.”
Oriel’s laughter rang, bouncing off the courtyard walls. “Oh, Corinne, do you not see that I revel in his touch? Gus is a predator, a very sensual predator. He wallows in the chase; he needs it.”
“But, don’t you find it degrading to have him groping you practically in ‘public?’”
“You’re very sheltered and, unfortunately, Gus seldom entertains. The fae are a sensual people. They protect their females with a dedication that makes Navy SEALs look like little boys playing at cops and robbers. And when they unleash that sensuality, it’s utterly glorious. Fae males are extremely jealous of their mates.”
“There’s more to a relationship than sex.”
“Of course. Gus will do anything to keep me happy. I try not to take undue advantage of that, because I love him and want his happiness. So, we both compromise a bit.”
“You compromised everything.”
“I gave up a life that really wasn’t much to crow about. Once I got over myself and realized the depth and strength of Gus’ devotion—which I’d done absolutely nothing to earn, by the way—I finally understood the power I have over him. He’s likely the most feared male in all the fae realms and some others beyond those. Yet, I’ve but to pout like a spoiled brat and he’ll turn himself inside out to make me smile again.”
“He treats you like a pet.”
“He treats me like his most precious treasure,” Oriel corrected in a matter-of-fact voice. Turning her face toward the sun, she said, “You can’t go back, Corinne. Stop wishing for what you will never have and make the best of what you’ve been given. You’ll be glad you did.”
Corinne rose from the bench and paced. “Uberon stole my freedom. He took away my rights.”
“Yes, yes, you’re an American citizen and you have rights,” Oriel dismissed the familiar rant. “I’ve heard it all before. Hell, I’ve said it all before. You know what? It does no good. Gus will have your letters delivered to reassure your family that you’re in good hands and well cared for.”
“Well cared for?”
“It’s not like we keep you in a cold damp cell and feed you spoiled gruel and stale bread.”
Corinne blushed with embarrassment as she smoothed her hands over the fine, smooth fabric of her blue skirt. She pressed her lips against a nasty retort and a bolt of lightning cracked overhead, though no cloud marred the bright blue sky.
“I have magic,” she said.
“That’s nice,” Oriel replied with utter disinterest.
“That doesn’t make you nervous? You don’t think I’m weird?”
Oriel laughed. “Oh, you’re most definitely weird. We all are here. It’s rather like the mysterious Isle of Misfits. But your elemental powers aren’t the be-all and end-all of power here. I met Calista, the witchbreed mate to Falco, Captain of the High Guard of the eastern fae. They call their country Daimónagi which, loosely translated, means something like land of liquid demons. It sounds dreadful, doesn’t it? But she’s a lovely female, diffident and kind. And I’ve met Catriona, who’s mated to Thelan, Captain of the Seelie Palace Guard. She’s older than you, Calista, or me, but you’d never know it to see her. I heard from Enders that she drove Thelan up a wall until she finally realized there was no going back. Their daughter Daniellisande is mated to Enders. She’s totally fun, a good friend.”
Corinne listened and said nothing, but something of her incredulity must have shown on her expression.
“But my words don’t convince you. I daresay Uberon made a hash of it, didn’t explain everything to you, didn’t make sure you understood that he had as little choice as you.”
“What do you mean he had as little choice as I?”
Oriel held her gaze with a sober expression. “These males give their hearts and souls but once. I’ve heard that the purest of highborn Seelie Court fae males can bond with two females, but there aren’t sufficient females to go around to double us up like that.”
“Dear Lord, Uberon isn’t planning on sharing me, is he?”
“What have you been reading?” Oriel gasped. “No, he won’t share you. Let me tell you a little secret: these males of ours barely get along without killing each other. Only an extremely rigid code of honor enables them to endure the presence of other males. If a male violates that code of honor, he risks his life.”
“Sounds like a grim way to live.”
“It can be. Males outnumber females by at least half. Many never encounter
their mates. Others take mates for whom they feel affection, but don’t love and then must live up to the expectations of the mating bond. Those who lose hope sometimes abandon honor and attempt to steal a female. Justice is swift and lethal. Others become reckless and court death through insane courage.”
“You make them sound worthy of pity.”
“When you think of it, they are. They’ve built up a culture that practically glorifies death in a blazing spectacle. They hold themselves to impossible standards. They are hard, unforgiving creatures and rely upon us females to soften their bleak existence.”
Corinne blinked as she mulled over her hostess’ words. Slowly, she said, “You mean women are the civilizing influence here.”
“That’s close enough,” Oriel approved. “Try to give Uberon the benefit of the doubt. He’d not have done what he did if he weren’t compelled by the mating bond.”
“He stalked me,” Corinne murmured.
“He what?”
“He stalked me. I knew he—well, not him, precisely, but someone—was following me for days before he finally introduced himself to me. Then he stayed with me, but hardly spoke a word.”
“He stayed with you?”
“Yeah. It was strange. He shadowed me like a bodyguard, helped around the cabin.”
Corinne’s eyes boggled. “He showed tremendous self-control. Amazing.”
“Self-control?”
She shook her head. “Gus took one look at me, determined I was his fated mate, knocked me out, and brought me here. It took all of about fifteen seconds, I think. And you got days. Wow.”
Corinne realized her jaw had dropped and closed it with an audible click of teeth. “You mean he saw you and took you and that was that?”
“Well, I did give him hell after I’d stopped being terrified of him.”
“I should hope so.”
Oriel chuckled. “I still give him hell every so often, just to remind him I can. The make-up sex is phenomenal.”
Corinne squeezed her eyes shut. “Too much information, Oriel.”
Her hostess patted her on the arm, then rose with the unread book still clutched in her hand. “Think on what we’ve discussed. If you’re going to attain any level of contentment here, you must first accept what is. You’re fae now and we’re immortal. Eternity’s a long, long time to be bitter and resentful.”
