She woke up, her heart drumming in her chest, still fighting to move, but the cords from her dream held her fast. She blinked in the cool starlight filtering through the gauzy white curtains at the open window. She was in her bed upstairs in Lady Aoife’s large chateau and instead of a net of fine gold wrapped around her, she was encased in a thin cord of silver.
“Oh, good, you’re awake. Stand up now, my dear.” The Lady Aoife smiled down at her. “It’s time to put you to good use.”
The pounding in her chest became a thundering in her ears. “Let me go.” Thorn drew on her Gift, pouring it into the strands of silver, but they held firm. She thrashed from side to side but she was held fast, bound tight by Aoife’s silver cord.
“It will do you no good to struggle. You can’t break my bindings.” The lovely lilting tone of Aoife’s voice hardened. “Now, stand up, like a good girl. We don’t have much time. My spies tell me Ardan is on his way, and I’ve already been broadcasting your location here at my lands for too long. I’m sure that wretched woman who calls herself the Black Queen will be here to get you very soon.”
Aoife gave a tug on the piece of cord in her hand. Thorn jerked to sitting and then to her feet, nothing more than a puppet on the end of Aoife’s string. Out of the room, down the stairs, and through the French doors onto the patio she went, unable to control her movements.
She shivered in her thin night dress and fought to contain the rising fear. Letting Aoife know how scared she was wouldn’t help anything. She forced her voice to stay calm. “Where are you taking me?”
“Into the garden. Don’t fret, my dear. It will all be over soon.”
“I don’t understand. Why are you doing this?” They made their way deep into the gardens then outside of the wall heading for the largest tree in the field behind the house. She worked at the bindings, fighting them with her muscles, her entire body, and her Gift, but they didn’t budge. “Ardan will be back soon. He’ll stop you.”
“Oh, it’s not me he’s going to stop.” The tree they approached was lined with shadows, making it an ominous dark shape in the bright light of the stars. “Now, mind your steps.”
Aoife tugged her into a careful path winding clockwise into the shadow of the tree. No matter how hard she tried, Thorn was unable to move out of the exact path Aoife pulled her along. Each of her feet matched the steps of the woman in front of her, until they’d reached the middle of the spiral and stood at the base of the tree.
“In you go.” Aoife waved her hand. Thorn was suddenly in the branches of the tree, imprisoned inside a large golden cage. “You won’t need those.” Another wave and the silver bindings dissolved away.
Thorn sprang for the bars of the cage, but there was no door, no way out. She reached for her Gift. She could feel it, it was still a part of her like her skin and her blood, but the magic of the gold bars surrounding her didn’t let her access it.
“Why are you doing this? I’m not important, no matter who you think I am.”
“I have no idea who you are. And frankly, I don’t care.”
“Then why do this?”
“I saw the way the Crone wanted you. She left you bound in that spell behind that hedge and as soon as your knight in shining armor broke you free she was there to put you back. You must be important to the old woman, some by-blow of her father’s, or a bastard cousin.” She sniffed, her delicate nose going into the air. “The Black Court has always been indiscriminate.”
“What are you talking about? When did you see this? You weren’t there.” Had Ardan told her everything? The idea had her wrapping her arms tightly around her body, as if she could hold in the pain of his betrayal.
“I followed Ardan. I’ve had to keep close tabs on the boy since he started this quest. I went back to that valley and rewound the scene. I saw everything. And she was there!” Aoife’s eyes blazed in the starlight. “The Crone was there, the Black Queen herself. She tried to take you back and she was livid when she failed. She’ll follow you here, I have no doubt. And when she does, Ardan will chop off her head to protect you, and she’ll be destroyed.”
Relief left her shaking. Ardan hadn’t betrayed her. But she couldn’t relax, he was in danger.
“If you saw that then you saw that even with two of us he couldn’t kill her. She’s too strong.”
“That’s why you’re here.” A breeze blew through the branches and the cage swung gently in the breeze. “He’s grown fond of you, my dear, fond enough that he’ll fight harder than before. This time, they’ll fight to the end. And I’m here this time. I may not be able to take her on directly, but I can make sure he wins.”
Was she right? If Ardan did get here was Aoife’s spell really going to help him, or would she turn on him?
The breeze blew stronger and the branch the cage was suspended from gave a groan.
Aoife turned. “Do you feel that? My lands are telling me, she’s here.” She sent Thorn a hard glare. “Now stay quiet, little bird. The cat needs to come very close for this to work and you don’t want to put your lover into danger, now, do you?” She wound her way back out from under the branches, back along the spiral path.
Thorn frantically ran through her options.
The wind grew stronger and the cage swung, the branches creaking with the weight. There was nothing she could do here to help Ardan, but she was damned if she’d be in this cage when the Black Queen showed up to claim her.
She gripped the bars on either side of the cage, and braced her feet as wide as she could get them. Slinging her weight from front to back, she got the cage swinging even harder, the tree moaning in protest.
“Are you here, dearie? Where does she have you, my pet?” The broken voice of an old woman whispered on the wind.
Thorn swung harder. The Crone was here and Ardan wasn’t. She was out of time.
ARDAN HAD EMERGED FROM the portal into a quiet side-street of Aoife’s rural neighborhood, but the closer he’d drawn to the chateau, the darker things had become. The old man’s warning still ringing in his ears. A cold wind picked up, teasing between the holes in his chain mail as if it were trying to chill his skin, but he was already chilled with the realization that he might be too late.
“Faster, Triton.” The steed lowered his head, reaching the speed of the fastest of horses, then pushing past it into the magical. Ardan bent low over his back, the night blurring past them as they rode through the wide open gates of the estate. Triton skidded to a halt on the gravel drive.
The dark courtyard had an eerie emptiness to it. The only sounds were the tinkling of the water in the fountain and the shush of the wind in the branches of the trees. His sense of urgency grew.
He ran to the front door of the chateau, and burst inside, shouting. “Thorn!” His shouts rang off the marble floor of the foyer, echoing back to him from empty room after empty room. He ran up the stairs, his heart pounding from more than his pace. He used his Gift to help him track down a trace of her essence and followed it to a room, the wide window framing the garden showing nothing but a blowing white curtain over an empty bed.
“Where in hell are you?” He tried again, but he couldn’t follow her any farther. Desperation had him sweating as he took out the compass, holding it carefully in his sweat slicked palms. The needle pointed directly into the dark garden. But it was dark and empty with no sign of Thorn. She wasn’t there, so she must be further on. He ran back down the stairs and past the shivering maid in her nightdress.
“Sir?”
He barely gave her a glance. “Out of my way.”
He pushed past her and exited. Mounting Triton, he spun him around on his hocks and pointed him to the back of the house. “Go.”
Before the word was even out of his mouth the steed responded, racing through the paths around the side of the house and leaping the tall wrought metal of the back garden gate as if it were nothing more than a low-lying log. Compass in one hand, Gleam in the other, Ardan used nothing but his legs to guide Triton through
the meandering garden paths to the back field that stretched out over a mile to a row of trees.
The closer he got to the trees, the fiercer the wind, trying to buffet him from the horse. He clung to the saddle from years of experience. He was a soldier of the north and a little wind wasn’t going to stop him. The outline of a tree seemed to rise out of the field, well over a hundred feet tall and coated in a darkness more shadowed than the rest. He slowed Triton and sent his Gift ahead to scout for enemies.
And found only one. The Black Queen herself, waiting at the edge of the tree’s shadowy circle. Gleam’s runes lit up, reflecting off the whites of the woman’s eyes. She’d dropped the glamour of the vivacious sexy woman. She was bent and old, with long grey hair straggling out of its confinement and blowing loose in the night wind.
“Oh ho! Here comes the rescuing knight. But this time you may be too late. Someone has gotten here ahead of you. This time I am the one to save her from this fate.”
“Let her go.”
“It’s not me, boy. I don’t have her imprisoned.”
“If not you, then who?”
“Whose lands do we stand on? Who let us in here with wide open gates and lowered defenses?”
“Aoife?” He shook his head, not wanting to believe what he knew must be true. “No, she’s taken us in to protect us from you.”
Cracks of dark laughter shook the black figure. “Is that what she told you? She always picks the stupid ones.”
Ardan flushed. She was right, he’d been stupid. He’d heard Aoife speak about protecting Thorn from the Golden King and had extended the idea of that protection. The idea was a bitter one, despite everything, he’d still been vulnerable to her power. Well no longer. “I should have seen what she was planning. I trusted her.”
“Don’t be naive, boy. It doesn’t suit you.”
“I lost my naiveté long ago.” And yet it kept coming back to bite him in the ass. As he talked, he searched for Thorn. Deep in the shadows of the branches he spotted a shining piece of metal. He took a step towards the tree. “Thorn? Are you in there?”
“Stop!” The Crone stuck out her crooked wooden staff, blocking his way. “Can’t you smell a trap when it stinks to high heaven?” She shook her head. “Tsk, tsk, boy. I’ve already tried calling her. I can’t hear if she’s responding. But I guarantee if you take one step into that circle, you won’t be coming out.” She took her staff and raised it high, bringing it down hard onto the ground. Power rippled out, touching the edge of the gloom that fell from the branches of the tree. “Come to me, shadows of darkness. Come to your mistress.”
The blackness dropped from the tree, rushing into the staff like water rushing down a drain. Suddenly, he could see each and every branch and dry leaf as the tree sprang into thousands of tiny lights and the massive amount of star power that had been hidden slammed into his shields like shrapnel.
“Damn you, Ardan. Why can’t you ever do what you are supposed to do?” Aoife stepped into the bright light cast by the tree, her dark blue cloak of stars rippling in the stiff breeze.
“Ah, there you are.” The old woman cackled. “Did you think I would rush into your trap like a fly into a sticky web?”
“I thought at least he would. But no.” Aoife frowned. “Stupid boy. All you had to do was get here and rush in to save the day. I could have pushed the queen in after you— that much I can do to her—and then you would have had the advantage. But no. No matter how simple the task you always manage to mess it up.”
A tangle of resentment and anger welled up inside of Ardan. He lifted Gleam up, ready to strike and had to stop himself from taking a step closer to her. He had to be strategic and deal with her as the enemy he now knew she’d always been. “Why didn’t you tell me you had a plan?”
“Would you have gone for it? I can see how attached you are to the chit.”
He hadn’t even known himself until he’d stood in the Oracle’s room and realized how much he’d miss her, how he really felt about Thorn. And now, his anxiety about not being able to see she was safe, was growing by the minute.
The wind gusted, buffeting the tree and a branch dropped, slashing down and cutting Ardan in the face.
“Rock-a-bye, my little one.” The Crone cackled. “Down will come baby, cradle and all.” More wind whipped through the trees until the branches moaned and Ardan bent over Triton’s back, sheltering in the stallion’s neck.
“Kill her!” Aoife sent a blast of wind at them, pushing Triton towards the Crone. “Kill her now!”
Ardan wheeled the horse around. “If I cut off her head, will you let Thorn go?”
The Crone shrieked, the piercing sound carrying over the increasing wind. “Don’t trust her! She’s from the Golden Court—they’re all tricksters and manipulators there. I will save my girl, not you, me!”
The tree bent in the storm, its branches lashing the ground. Ardan ducked a cluster of the leaves flying through the air and another branch crashed down, just missing Triton’s hind quarters. Ardan struggled to keep his seat as the stallion whinnied and danced out of the way.
Deep within the circle of the tree there was a huge crash. He turned. Under the tree, right next to the trunk, a golden cage lay on the ground. Its bars were bent and broken and Thorn’s crumpled figure huddled in the bottom. He thought he saw her move and his heart leapt with hope.
He fought the urge to rush to her and see if she was okay. But the battle was here. If he went in, she’d be no better off—they’d both be trapped inside the circle of Aoife’s magic.
Instead, he wheeled Triton around and watched the two women facing off - Aoife with her long blonde hair and strong straight back, and the Crone, bent and broken, but still just as strong.
Aoife shot out a bright blue light at the old woman. It hit her in a bright flash, the smell of exploded power like ozone in the air. The Crone laughed. “Keep trying, bitch. I’m no weak girl you can push around. Not anymore. The Golden Court made me—I won’t let it destroy me.” Her cackling laughter rose high over the rushing of the wind and the creaking of the tree.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw Thorn climb out from the twisted bars of the cage.
“Be careful!” he called.
He saw her lips move, but he couldn’t hear her words.
“Don’t bother. She can’t hear you.” Aoife shrugged her shoulders. “Don’t worry about her, by the time she gets here, this will be all over. You and I, we can kill the Crone. You’ll have your place in court and I’ll have my revenge.”
Thorn began limping in a circle around the trunk, spiraling out towards the edge. He forced his attention back to the problem at hand.
While he’d been distracted, Aoife had circled around and come up behind him. “Kill her!” A blast of her magic struck Triton in the flank. The horse screamed, moving automatically closer to the Crone. Ardan fought to keep his seat.
“I’m not your enemy, boy. She is.” The old woman pointed a crooked finger at Aoife. “She’s always been the enemy. You just didn’t know it.”
He nodded to the Crone. “I know it now, but I have no choice. Killing you is the ticket to my future. And Thorn’s.” He raised his sword and brought it down, aiming for her neck, but the metal hit her magical shield as if hitting steel. Sparks flew. Gleam ricocheted back, the impact shuddering through his arm.
“Take my power.” A stream of blue came streaking towards him.
“No, don’t kill him!” Thorn broke free of the tree’s circle. She raced towards him and with all the force of her Gift she shoved both he and Triton out of the blast. “You can’t have him.” A rush of bright magic came from her, pouring out and surrounding the three of them. They were encased in a globe of her Gift. Grey purple vapor came out of nowhere flooding the globe.
“What the hell are you doing?
“Aoife betrayed us.” She reached up and laced her fingers through Triton’s mane.
“Stop! Aoife is helping us.”
“She was tr
ying to kill you!”
He’d never seen anything like it. Portal mists rushed in from nowhere, filling her globe like smoke. His last sight was of the gleeful grin of the Crone, and the fury on Aoife’s face, as he, Triton, and Thorn were surrounded by the mists of the void between the worlds. Then everything else, including the woman he’d been tasked to kill, disappeared.
Chapter Twenty-two
Thorn hung desperately on to Ardan and Triton as the bubble she’d used as a makeshift door popped out of existence and they were floating through the mists on their own. In a panic, she reached out for a destination, any destination, besides getting lost in a world where they’d be torn apart by phantasms.
A trace of memory opened in her mind, she grabbed it and focused all her Gift on getting them there. Together, they were wrenched from their current path and flung helter-skelter through the mists. Transparent hands with way too many fingers groped for her face and she ducked. Screams tortured her ears, her time sense swam, and they were pitched out into the center of a grove of tall green-leaved trees. Thorn landed with a hard thump and rolled on the damp ground, coming to rest on something hard jutting into her hip bone. Triton whinnied, and she frantically looked for the horse, finally finding him getting to his feet behind a bush.
“Hush. We don’t want to attract any attention.” Ardan’s quiet voice sounded loud in the immense silence of the woods in which they’d fallen. “Is this where I think it is?”
Thorn sat up and swallowed down the lump in her throat. “I don’t know. Where do you think it is?” She realized she’d grabbed the only memory she could hang on to—a summer’s day, a fluffy dress, and a picnic in the woods with fairies.
“This is the Dark Forest.” Ardan got to his feet, his hand hovering near his sword hilt.
“It’s kind of pretty.” She looked around at the small bright green leaves springing out on the trees and the tiny beginnings of a grassy spring day. “Why do you sound so worried?”
Bespelled: A Fae Fantasy Romance (Fae Magic Book 5) Page 14
