The Immortal Queen

by Jennifer L. Hart

“Nic,” Aiden snaps out of whatever trace he’s fallen into at my words. “What are you saying? There’s never been a Valkyrie in the Hunt. They belong to Freya. And you can’t just let them go. Think of all the mortals they’ve killed.”

  I glare at him. “I need to accept all the help I can get. Didn’t you say that?”

  “This wasn’t what I had in mind,” Aiden growls. “The fey of the Hunt won’t like it.”

  “The fey of the Hunt can fuck off.” I snap, my focus on the dying creature. “Do we have a bargain, Nightweaver? Your eternal help for the eternal safety of your people?”

  I hold out my hand and after the smallest hesitation, she places her claw in my grip.

  She coughs, more blood flecking her lips. “Agreed, Ice Bitch, though I doubt my service will be for long.”

  “Think again,” I say and press my lips to her bloody ones. “You have been found guilty.”

  Around us there are gasps as Nightweaver’s body sags, her hand going limp in my hold. My deadly kiss sparks hot on my own lips and I feel her spirit slip from her body.

  “You killed her?” Aiden breathes.

  “She agreed to serve. And as you pointed out, I couldn’t let her go unpunished after decimating this place.” Though I am speaking to him, my own gaze focuses beyond. I watch as Nightweaver’s soul tears free from its fleshy prison.

  What is happening to me? The voice isn’t mental, not like when Aiden communicates with me mind to mind. It’s more like a sighing breeze passing through dry leaves, something that I didn’t know existed until it slips by.

  “You tied her soul to the Hunt.” Aiden’s tone is full of awe.

  I nod. “The souls I bargained away to Brigit. And because Brigit was fey, I’m sure her clause is open ended. Any new soul will belong to her, too.”

  Aiden is gaping at me, his expression pure shock. “She’ll lead us right to the rest of the dead.”

  “Grab your keys.” I’m already on my feet, heading for the truck, barely daring to hope. The soul drifts higher from the ground, not flapping the way the great wings did when Nightweaver lived, but almost as though it’s a balloon filled with gas lighter than the surrounding air. I can make out the general direction though.

  “What about the Valkyries?” Aiden spares them a glance as he turns the truck’s engine over.

  “They have until first light to cross back into Underhill.” My words are loud enough so all can hear. “Then my people will burn this place to the ground.”

  Lower, so only Aiden’s sensitive ears pick up on it I murmur, “Freda can supervise their departure and covering this up so we don’t alert the mortal law. We need Nahini with us though, in case we do find the souls we’re looking for.”

  The hairs on my arm stand on end and I scan the area, feeling hunted.

  “What is it?” Aiden’s head jerks up.

  I scan the dark tree line behind the apartment complex, looking for anything out of place. The Valkyries chose their hideout well, the buildings are set back from the road with their backs to the trees a large force couldn’t sneak up on them. But someone is out there. I’m sure of it. All the small hairs are up on my neck.

  “Nic?” Aiden follows my gaze.

  “Nothing.” We don’t have time to investigate, not if we want to follow Nightweaver’s soul to its final destination. I’d leave it to Freda to track whoever lurks in the woods.

  “Which way am I going?” Aiden slides behind the wheel and the truck roars to life.

  Once inside the cab, I check the sky again, watching as the Valkyrie’s soul drifts even higher. “West.”

  “That’s toward the tear in the Veil.” Aiden throws his arm over the back of the seat, whips the truck around in a broken K turn, before shifting to drive and pushing the pedal to the floor.

  I already have my phone out and am dialing. “I know. Nahini will have to meet us there.”

  THE STEEDS THAT BELONG to the Wild Hunt are fast and aren’t confined to roads the way my truck is so neither of us are surprised to see Nahini waiting below the tear in the Veil.

  “Has she gone through yet?” I slide to the ground as soon as Aiden shifts into park. “We lost sight of her at the edge of town.”

  Nahini scans the skies, then shakes her head. “No, nor do I see any sign of her or feel the presence of the other souls.”

  “What happens if we cross through the tear?” I stare up at the sky, looking for the telltale flicker that moves like a curtain in the wind. The Veil between worlds is thin and time spent In-Between feels endless. But there is no unnatural movement. The night is dark with only a sliver of the moon visible through the scudding clouds.

  “It’s not like the In-Between.” Aiden’s gaze is steady though I can feel his anxiety through our connection. “There is no transitional space. Just chaos.”

  Nahini’s eyes are on the sky, not the frantic sweep I am doing but a thorough scan. “If we cross now,” she warns, “We may not have time to return before your rule begins anew on all hallows eve.”

  Time moves differently in Underhill. What feels like a day to us might be a year in the mortal realm, or perhaps only an hour. And it’s foolish to cross with no provisions. No change of clothes or food, only the weapons we have on us. If given a choice I would like time to prepare, to strategize with the aunts and Freda, make plans and pack.

  But this is the first real chance we’ve been given. A wicked soul damned to the Wild Hunt doesn’t come along every day and my to-do list is already full without digging up another.

  “I have to fix this.” With my focus on the souls around us, I can see the tear. It isn’t just a void or a rip but something with an enormous amount of suction, like curtains caught in a vacuum cleaner. “Not just reclaiming the dead of the Hunt but the tear as well. The Valkyries killed dozens of innocent people because of this thing. I don’t care how much time passes here, we need to make this right.”

  Aiden takes my hand. “We will.”

  I turn to Nahini. “Then mark me for Underhill.”

  Her big dark eyes grow bigger. “You’re sure you are ready for the gauntlet?”

  “Not even. But I won’t risk missing my chance because we don’t have a reliable clock. You said once I was marked, Underhill will take me when she sees fit, is that right?”

  Nahini nods and extracts something from her saddle bags. A knife. “It is.”

  “Then mark me.”

  “Nic,” Aiden breathes my name like a prayer.

  “You can’t talk me out of this.” I set my jaw, pretending to be ready for what is to come. Fake it till you make it.

  “I’m not trying to.” With one hand he grips the steel, holding it until a curl of smoke emerges. Sterilizing the blade. I see the metal glow red gold as though it had been heated over a fire but it returns to normal as it cools. His brilliant green eyes glow bright in the darkness. “I’ll do whatever I can to stay by your side.”

  I search his face. His expression is set. He’s just as determined as I am.

  “Are you ready?” Nahini says.

  In answer, I roll up the sleeve on my right forearm, exposing the skin there. My sword arm, marked for service to Underhill.

  Aiden takes my free hand in his and lowers his forehead against mine. “Don’t look.”

  I squeeze my eyes shut. The sight of my own blood makes me dizzy, a wimpy trait for anyone, especially a serial killer, and ridiculous compared to the mess we’d just left at the apartment complex.

  Even without seeing the action, I can feel the slicing of the blade, quick sharp marks to form an edgy sort of U shape. The rune for Underhill.

  My eyes stay closed and I breathe in Aiden, the scent of cotton from his shirt, his own unique blend of earthy heat and wildness.

  There’s a rustling sound as Nahini retrieves something from her saddle bags. I inhale when my second sprinkles some sort of powder over the fresh wound, murmuring in an unfamiliar tongue. Then she covers the wound with a gauze pad and binds it with purple v
et wrap she must have filched from the clinic.

  “There,” Nahini points to the east. “And just in time.”

  Sure enough, the bizarre hybrid soul of the Valkyrie moves towards the tear, caught up in the current of its powerful pull.

  “Will you ride with me?” Nahini is in the saddle before I can bat an eyelash and offers her hand.

  I shake my head. “Aiden can’t see the spirit world, I need to stay with him.” His sparks and embers form can become weightless and lift us up off the ground and through the Veil.

  He squeezes my hand as though trying to convey a message, but I can’t look away from Nightweaver long enough to ask him what it means.

  “Now, before we lose, her.” Nahini makes a clicking noise to her mount and the steed kicks off from the ground.

  The odd dissolving sensation that accompanies Aiden’s magic engulfs me from right to left, where our hands are still clasped. My body is pulled apart and my senses disappear. Even so, I sense Nightweaver and the tear above, its pull as great as the vortex of my tornado.

  Up, up, up we swirl like leaves eddying in a twisting stream, our momentum getting faster the higher we climb. I can’t feel its tug, can’t feel anything by normal human standards, but it is all around me.

  Madness swallows us whole.

  Though I have no physical body, it feels as though a thousand shards of jagged glass are scraping across my skin, leaving bloody rivulets in their wake. If I had a mouth, a voice, I would cry out, but I don’t have access to those things in this form. Even if I could scream I might not remember how, the pain pushing me past the point of sanity, or comprehension, beyond words.

  And then the chaos whispers a single word to me, its tone greedy and ravenous.

  Thousands of souls cry out for what they once were, what they seek to be again, what they desperately wish to consume.

  Life.

  That’s what it wants, the toll it’s trying to forcibly extract. My life, mine and

  Aiden’s and Nahini’s. The Veil itself demands life, not just more untethered souls that makes up its fabric but to forcibly rip a soul free from a living being, to gobble up the very essence of life.

  Let go.

  It’s Aiden speaking to me mind to mind, not the Veil. He’s struggling, I can feel him yanking on me, trying to shove me free. If given the choice, he will stay if it means Nahini and I can cross unharmed. The stupid hero wants to sacrifice himself for me.

  So, I don’t give him the choice.

  Wrapping what there is of me around what there is of him, I hang on for dear life and force myself to endure the pain, the madness, what feels like the end of all things until darkness swamps me and pulls me under.

  Underhill

  “Don’t leave me.” Tears stream down my face as I watch her pick up her bag. We are in the darkest part of the woods, a place I have never been before. I cling to her skirts. “I’m scared.”

  “I don’t have a choice.” Her curly blonde hair is a lion’s mane around her pointed face. Usually such a calm and tranquil face, but now she’s upset, her eyes bright with fervor, motions sharp and jerky as she wrenches free of my grasping hands.

  “Sissy please,” I hunt frantically for something else to say, something else that will change her mind. “I’ll be good.”

  She turns to me then, blue eyes colder than the sharpest winter gust. “You don’t have it in you. It’s not in your nature.”

  “Please, I don’t want to be alone.” I cling to her skirts, imploring her again, desperate.

  She puts her hand on my forehead and issues a one-word command. “Sleep.”

  “Please,” I murmur, fighting the darkness, too afraid that when I wake up I’ll be alone. “Don’t leave me here. I’ll be good, I swear.”

  “Nic? It’s all right. I’m right here.” Aiden.

  The sound of his voice drags me back to consciousness. The very last place I want to be as the aches and pains pile up like cordwood. Everything throbs, my head all the way to the roots of my hair and my feet to the tips of my pinky toenails, plus everything in between.

  I try to open my eyes but the light streaming in beyond the closed lids is bright enough that I know sheer agony awaits.

  “She’s coming back.” Another voice, low and melodic. “My queen? Are you damaged?”

  “Hurts,” I wheeze out the word and then roll to my side, tucking my knees up in the fetal position.

  “What does?” Aiden’s hand alights on my shoulder. “Nic, what hurts?”

  I shrug away from his touch, wanting nothing more than to be alone. The panic I’d relived moments before. Sissy. I’d remembered her, remembered the day she’d abandoned me. It’s not in your nature. “Everything.”

  “Leave her, wolf.” Nahini’s tone is light, but even that is more than I can bear. “She will come back to herself in time.”

  I can feel Aiden vibrating with tension, uneasy at my pain, wanting to help. To fix whatever’s wrong with me. My anguish impacts him in a way that goes beyond empathy, almost as though he experiences it right alongside me. Another wave of agony washes over me, and my thoughts scatter like leaves before a hurricane. I can’t worry about him right now.

  Time passes and the pain, both physical and emotional, fades. I don’t know if I drift off again, but the next time my eyes open the light isn’t nearly so oppressive. Textures are starting to register again. The grit of sand beneath my cheek, coarse and warm. The air carries the tang of the sea and in the distance, the sound of waves crashing as they meet the shore.

  And deeper than that there is a pulse, throbbing in time to my own. Only this one surrounds me. I can feel the pull and push, like a tide made from the air. It caresses my face, throbs in the wound on my arm.

  Underhill. She knows I’m here, that I’ve come to face the gauntlet.

  Slowly, not moving a single muscle more than necessary, I crack open one eye. I am still curled up on my side, my face pressed into a dune. The light is low with the sun making its descent toward the ground. A few feet away, Aiden sits facing not the surf but me, though his eyes are closed.

  “Hey,” I croak.

  His lids lift though he doesn’t otherwise move. “Are you any better?”

  “Think so.” The words whisper from between cracked lips.

  He assesses me a moment then reaches behind him for something. A canteen, I realize.

  “Where did you get that?”

  “Nahini had it in her saddle bags.” He crawls closer and then tips the canteen so I can drink.

  The water is warm, though the taste is marvelous, from our own well back at the farm. I swallow greedily, but he takes it away before I am ready and screws the cap back on.

  “Easy. This needs to last you awhile. I already used enough of it when we cleaned you up.” He touches the bandages on my forearm where the Valkyrie scratches are now covered by gauze.

  “Where’s Nahini? And Nightweaver? Did we find the missing souls?” I struggle up, needing to see more of the world around me than my limited view of the beach.

  “Go slowly.” Aiden reaches under my arms and guides me into a sitting position. He shifts so my back can rest against his chest. My own living wolf recliner. “Be careful. I have your medical kit but would prefer not to have to use it again so soon.”

  Fully propped up, I take in our surroundings. Waves and sand, surf and the sinking sun. No signs of houses or other people, mortal or forever young. Out of the corner of my eye I see more dunes rolling like their own sort of waves behind us. They are tufted with sea grass but otherwise there is nothing. No rocks or trees, just endless open rolling hills of sand. The terrain is completely unfamiliar and even with my soul vision, I spot nothing to help us.

  “Where are we, exactly?” I whisper. “And where’s Nahini?”

  “She’s following Nightweaver. She’ll come back here as soon as she locates the other souls, though she left us her saddle bags. There isn’t much, but if you’re hungry there are a few apples.” He s
hifts until his legs are on either side of me, providing maximum support.

  “I’m good.” Food is the last thing on my mind, my head aches and my stomach is too unsettled for digestion.

  He eyes me. “Are you really?”

  He means my flashback. The hollowness in my chest expands, my promise rings in my ears. I’ll be good. I would have done anything to get her to stay, to give me another chance.

  And Sissy’s response is a fresh wave of torment. It’s not in your nature.

  My voice is flat as I say, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Was it your mother?” His voice is soft, gentle.

  “Which one?” Technically I have two, though I can’t remember either. The one who gave birth to Nicneven, Queen of the Shadow Throne and the one who brought me into this world as Nic.

  “Your mortal mother died,” he puts a hand on my arm.

  When I look at him sharply, he withdraws “I checked, in case you were curious.”

  “I’m not.” It’s only half a lie. I am curious but there’s no time to indulge myself.

  He’s silent a moment before changing the subject. “As to our current location, I can’t be sure but I think we are in Wardon’s territory.”

  “Wardon, the Seelie king?” One of the two.

  “Master of the Waves and your male counterpart, Samhain to Beltane. He has a castle beyond the great desert at the point where the sea touches the sky where he lives on his off time.” Aiden’s tone is grim, as though this isn’t good news.

  “Master of the Waves,” I grumble. “Nicer ring to it than The Ice Bitch.”

  He lets out a soft chuckle. “Maybe we should steal his PR person.”

  I sigh and lean into him, lulled by the steady beat of his heart.

  He smooths my hair away from my face. “Are you feeling better?”

  “I think so.” Though I’m still not sure what happened.

  “In that case,” his voice drops to a low growl that makes all the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. “What the hell were you thinking back there, holding on to me that way?”

  “That I wasn’t about to let you be all noble and sacrifice yourself to that thing.” I snap. Pain makes me irritable under the best of circumstances, which these certainly are not.