Through Time-Whiplash

by Conn, Claudy

  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 enacted 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 appeared to be 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, he had secretly sympathized with him.

  He did not, however, like Gais, 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. He 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 the 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 do 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. All the fuss over her fallen Druid lover, Conall, still 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 only 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 in the war with the humans and the Milesians—though who would remember that now?

  He knew that he presented a 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 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 what had promoted 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. 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 coul
d 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.

  Intermission allowed him to get up and slowly make his way down the aisle crowded with Fae socializing and enjoying themselves. He exchanged a jest with one here, a pat on the back with another, a flirt with a pretty Fae, and smiled to himself. Indeed, he knew how to work the crowd.

  It was time; he began slipping in a word here, another there, starting the rumor that the queen had taken up with the Milesian leader.

  He stopped beside Council Member Alana and inclined his head to ask, “I am surprised the queen is not here to enjoy her favorite vocalist?”

  Alana was the queen’s friend, but she was a stickler for rules, always had been. She was the perfect ear to drop a hint to.

  “Indeed, no doubt something important to attend to. Our queen is forever working …” she said absently.

  “Perhaps not always,” Banzar said with just the right inflection to intimate that he had not told the entire story.

  She turned large, sparkling eyes to contemplate him. “Whatever do you mean?”

  “Only that I believe our queen has another interest that keeps her away this afternoon.”

  “Really, and what would that be?” Alana asked, her brow up.

  “Indeed, Banzar,” said Prince Breslyn at his back, “tell us, do, what would that be?”

  Banzar spun around and displayed more irritation than he had meant to but quickly got it under control. The prince was an annoyance, but he could not show it. Breslyn was too well respected, but damn, he always seemed to know too much.

  “Only that I have noticed she has been spending a great deal of her time … dealing with the Milesians.”

  Alana frowned and gave Breslyn her hand. “Breslyn, where is your sweet Ete?”

  The prince turned and smiled widely and warmly. “Ah, here she comes now … with the queen.”

  Banzar’s eyes narrowed, and he felt a deep-seated hatred begin to form. Breslyn would be in the way, as would his wife. It would give Banzar great pleasure to watch Breslyn suffer the loss of his mate, even for a little while. Indeed, it would take some doing, as she was a Daoine Seelie Fae and would not be easily captured.

  He did not bother to excuse himself but turned and left abruptly, thinking the prince would be sorry for all the rudeness he had exhibited towards him over the centuries. He knew Breslyn didn’t like him because the prince made no secret of about it. Damn his Royal blood, but when he was done, they would know. They would all know who they were dealing with!

  * * *

  The prince was very aware of Banzar’s hurried departure. He knew, in the gut humans had taught him to use so long ago, that this Council member was up to something, but he couldn’t yet figure out what.

  Ete laughed and touched his cheek, and he smiled at her as she asked, “What? You look … concerned.”

  He took a lock of her beautiful auburn hair and tugged. “You chose that word carefully.” Then as the queen turned from greeting her friends to give him her hand, he took it and bent over it, saying as he straightened, “My Queen, I believe that Banzar means to make mischief, regarding your … er, friendship with Morgan LeBlanc.”

  “I know, and I am forewarned,” said the queen quietly. “It is a delicate matter we shall discuss at another time.”

  He nodded, but he knew Banzar meant more than just mischief, much more.

  ~ Ten ~

  JAZZ HAD NEVER seen a sky so blue, nearly aqua in variegated shades that looked as though a brush had just gently stroked the heavens with fresh paint. No clouds interrupted the skyline, the temperature was perfect, and the scent wafting on the breeze was unfamiliar but delicious.

  The beach stretched out forever, the azure water lapping gently at the pink sandy shoreline. The landscape appeared to be tropical, as palm trees, pines of various types, and flowering fruit trees, all planted with style and precision, filled the scenery.

  Birds of every type, some she had never seen or imagined existed, flaunted their colors and their songs.

  She stood in her boots and jeans in Faery, though if she didn’t know better, she might think she had just stepped into a Disney painting. Everything was so rich with color.

  She looked at Trevor, who gave her a reassuring smile, and then she looked at Frankie, who looked at her and said, “Gawd!”

  “Right you are,” agreed Jazz. To Trevor she said, “So this is Faery?”

  “One of the Isles of Tir, yes, part of it.” He looked at the orb. “Why the beach and not the queen’s chamber?”

  “I thought you all might wish to freshen up before presenting yourself to our queen,” said the orb.

  Frankie stared at the crystal and asked, “Be ye a girl or a boy? I can’t tell.”

  “Neither. I am the Orb of Time and once belonged to the Dark King,” said the voice, which was indeed genderless.

  The prince said, “I have a bit of a problem, Jazmine Decker.”

  “What? We are in the present, I mean, I know we are in Faery, but it is the present, right?”

  “Aye, but we have left the Dark Prince in the past. That won’t do. I shall have to go back and—”

  “Be at rest,” said the orb. “When you took me in hand, Prince, I had the power to correct my error, and I returned him to the Dark Realm where he belongs.” The voice, though genderless, sounded proud as it added, “I did this while I brought us home.”

  The prince grinned and kissed the orb. Then, with a flick of his wrist, Jazz was clothed in a close-fitting gown of soft blue silk, much in the Grecian style, and Frankie wore a lovely little yellow school girl’s dress with Fae-styled sandals.

  Jazz looked down at herself and then touched her blonde hair, which his flicking wrist had piled high on her head. She looked at Frankie again and saw that Frankie was pulling her hair out of the ponytail Trevor had put it in.

  Jazz laughed. “Why so formal?”

  He took her hand, she took Frankie’s, and he said as he looked them over, “We are off to see the queen.”

  Jazz laughed. “As long as we aren’t taking the yellow brick road.’

  “What is that?” a puzzled expression flitted over Trevor’s face.

  “Never mind, Trev … lead on.”

  He shifted them to the inside of the castle, and before Jazz could take in their surroundings, she turned her head to the sound of a deeply sensual male voice that said, “Well, well … what have we here?”

  Jazz’s mouth dropped open as she stared at a huge, incredibly sexy hunk. He wore his dark blonde hair slicked back and tied at the nape of his neck with a string of leather. His silver Fae eyes glittered with humor and warmth. Intriguing tattoos banded his biceps, and a torque of gold around his wide neck made her wonder just who he was.

  Trevor grinned like a boy and went forward. Jazz and Frankie watched the two Royals grab one another’s shoulders to give each other a warm, comradely shake.

  “Breslyn … it is good to see you—better than you can imagine,” Trevor said with a gusty laugh.

  “Aye, I heard you were stuck in the past with Pestale’s brother Hordly. How did you get out, and where is the devil now?”

  Trevor held up the orb. “We managed to get this. It is what sent him into the past when he tried to enter the Human Realm. The orb realized he was Unseelie and retracted its spell, hurtling him into the past. We were in its sphere and ended up there with him, but now he is back where he belongs—in the Dark Realm with all the other abominations.”

  “Aye then, but not for long. There is a small portal that repeatedly tries to open. Ete and I have just come back from the Highlands. We shut it down, but there is no saying when he will get it open again,” Breslyn said grimly.

  “Who—it can’t have been Hordly?” And then dawning lit in his eyes. “Pestale? Pestale is at
it, isn’t he?”

  “Aye, and he is stronger than ever and even more determined,” Breslyn said and then stopped to return his attention to Jazz and Frankie, who were both watching him with their mouths open. He laughed and said, “Who do we have here, Trev, my boy? It seems you have been busy.”

  Trevor had just managed to make the introductions when the queen opened her door and raised an eyebrow. “Are you planning to talk out here in the hall for anyone and everyone to eavesdrop all day?”

  Chastised, Trevor lowered his gaze, but Breslyn threw back his head, laughed, and pinched the queen’s chin as they entered.

  Jazz felt Frankie clinging to her and gave her a warm, reassuring smile, which helped to dissipate her own fears. Here was the Queen of the Seelie Fae.

  She was tall, ethereal, graceful, and almost too beautiful to behold. Her eyes glistened with a hint of rainbow colors, ever changing. Her skin was exquisitely soft in appearance, and the radiance surrounding her was both seductive and reassuring. And when the queen tempered her alien eyes, donned human Glamour, and came to stand before her, Jazz had a moment’s urge to drop to her knees and kiss her hand. She was so much more than the vision she had presented when she appeared through the magic of the pendant. So much more!

  Aaibhe held her chin and said in a voice that enticed and bewitched, “Ah, my Fios, Jazmine Decker. How pleased I am that you are here.” She turned to Frankie. “And you, my little one. I hope that you will not be frightened. You are very special to me, so be at ease.”

  Jazz felt Frankie’s hand relax in hers and realized the queen had indeed calmed Frankie’s fears.

  Aaibhe turned to her two princes and said, “Do you both know what we must do next? Yes?”

  “Aye, Danté and Z are guarding the portal we just closed, my Queen. Chance and Royce were on their way to the village of Swords when Ete and I saw them only moments ago, to guard over Daremont and BJ. We were concerned because they are not immortal, and if Pestale tries to open the monoliths on their land, they could be harmed attempting to stop him. Ete and I are headed for Trinity, as Ete believes he will strike in a public place in Dublin.”