“It’s something else,” I agreed. “Where are we?”
“North coast of the island of Gozo,” Coleman replied. “Four or five kilometers from the Ġgantija complex where we’ll find Theia.”
“The fortress is on Malta itself, isn’t it?” Mary asked. “How are we getting there?”
“Mabona sent one of her Vassals ahead from Ireland to prepare the way,” I told her. “She should be meeting us shortly with a couple of rented vehicles, but we weren’t going to sneak weapons through airport security in multiple countries.”
Even most of the Hunters were visibly armed. The Companions, the shifters and the asura were all carrying guns and blades.
Of the ten Hunters there, only four of us could actually create Between storage spaces. A troop like Coleman’s would make sure they had at least one so that they could store all of the troops’ weapons.
I’d half-expected to be attacked on emerging from Between.
“Where are we meeting her?” Coleman asked.
I pulled out a phone and checked the GPS.
“At the nearest highway,” I answered. “About, oh, ten minutes’ walk that way.”
“After all of that, we still need to walk?” Mary demanded.
“We couldn’t have fifty people appear out of nowhere on the side of the highway,” I said. “That ends up attracting attention we can’t afford.”
“And from there?” Coleman asked.
“From there, Mary and I go visit a god,” I admitted. “One of the trucks Ana is bringing is full of platinum and silver. That’s for the Titaness, to buy her permission for us to attack the Masked Lords.”
“What happens if she refuses us?” Mary asked softly.
“Hope that doesn’t happen,” I told her. “Theia is quite capable of sending us all back to Calgary with a wave of her hand…but from what everyone is saying, I doubt that she’s likely to feel that charitable.”
To get anything resembling secrecy on the crowded islands, we’d appeared in the middle of a farmer’s field. From there, we carefully picked our way over to the Triq ix-Xagħra highway, where Ana Ormon was supposed to be waiting for us.
Fortunately, my Queen seemed to pick capable Vassals. We reached the highway to find a trio of trucks waiting for us. Two were semi trucks, as large as they got on this island, I guessed. The third was an armored transport vehicle.
A blonde woman with gray streaked through her hair was waiting for us with a big grin on her face. She waved when she saw me and crossed to the fence.
“How was your trip?” Orman asked cheerfully. I knew her apparent age was an affectation, but the Fae Noble radiated grandmotherly charm in a way I’d rarely met.
“Cold but swift,” I replied. “Our rides?” I gestured at the trucks.
“Both are fitted out to carry people,” she said. “The spells on them will fool most scanners and everything except a visual search.” She shrugged. “They’re usually used for smuggling migrants, but it’s amazing how little money it took to rent them and their drivers for a few days.”
“I’m guessing the spells are ours?” I asked.
“My glamors, yeah,” Orman confirmed. “I didn’t tell the drivers I’d added anything to their trucks, either.” She shrugged. “The shielding will last a few weeks after we’re done. Might get a few poor bastards deeper into the EU before they get in trouble, who knows?”
“You’ve got the tribute truck?”
“The armored van.” Orman glanced back to check on it, then returned her attention to me. “I’m driving that one, but I wouldn’t mind an extra in the back. Ten tons of silver and two of platinum…we’re only hauling only a hundred million euros or so in precious metals.”
“Mary and I are riding with you to Ġgantija,” I told her, then turned back to my people. “Coleman, we need a Hunter to ride shotgun in the tribute van.”
“All right.” Coleman gestured for Riley to join me. “Drive safe, sir. We’ll see you at the ferry?”
“Assuming everything goes according to plan, yeah.” I shook my head. “Try not to draw any more attention than you need to. We need to honor the Titaness, but we also need to make sure that the Masked Lords don’t see us coming.”
24
Orman took the truck along the highway and up onto a plateau. At the north end of the natural rise was a collection of stacked rocks marked off by ropes and tourist trails.
“There’s the temples,” she told me. “World Heritage Site, tourist attraction, the works.”
“I’m guessing that Theia isn’t living in them anymore, then?”
“Yes and no,” the Fae Noble said. “There was an access to her complex in there, but it was buried in the collapse after she left Gozo and the temples stopped being maintained.
“She moved back after everything went wrong for the Titans in the Olympus area and hasn’t left since. Her home isn’t the temples, Kilkenny.”
“It’s the entire plateau,” I concluded aloud. “How do we get in?”
“We take a side road down to the edge of the plateau and then commit suicide,” she said cheerfully.
“We what?” I demanded.
Orman laughed.
“The road ends next to a cliff. We make the proper ablutions, then drive through the cliff.”
Illusions, glamors and false realities. Welcome to the world of the supernatural.
“All right. You know the right words? I’m guessing it’s more complicated than ‘speak friend and enter,’” I noted.
“I do and they are.” She shook her head. “Took some research. She still has some followers here, but they’re very used to keeping their heads down after a few centuries of being ruled by Christians and Brits.”
“Does she know we’re coming?” I asked.
“She knows I’m coming,” Orman replied. “Or, at least, I’m assuming the locals I got the key phrases from told her I was on my way. I don’t think she knows I’m bringing friends—and I don’t think anyone would have warned the Masked Lords about one random fae looking for a warm exile.”
“Happens often enough, does it?”
“Our records suggest there’s about a dozen fae across the islands Theia claims as her own,” she told me. “I’m guessing there’s more, if the Masked Lords have been using the place as a safe haven, but that’s what we know about.”
“So, she’s expecting one exile paying a tribute of a few kilos of platinum…and she’s getting an army.” I shook my head. “I’m sure that’s going to go over well.”
“You have a better idea?” she asked.
“Nope,” I conceded. “Our ‘better idea’ was making sure that she knew we were here and paid tribute so we weren’t operating without her permission. Surprise means everybody gets surprised.”
“Worrying isn’t going to help anyone,” Mary interjected. “Let’s go pay up.”
Driving through the wall was probably one of the two or three most terrifying voluntary experiences I’d ever undergone. Ana Orman hit the accelerator after completing the small ritual, gunning the engine toward the cliff so none of us had a chance for second thoughts.
Fortunately, we’d done everything right and the armored van flashed through the solid-seeming stone wall without even slowing down—and Orman immediately slammed the brakes as we entered a large tunnel.
The tunnel was big enough for the truck but it wasn’t particularly long. We came to a screeching halt at the entrance to a well-lit cave that had been set up with a modern loading dock.
Half a dozen burly young men were scattered around the room. None of them were visibly armed, but I could feel the power radiating from them even inside the armored van.
I didn’t recognize what type of supernatural they were, but I could tell that these were Theia’s protectors…and only a fool would go up against them unprepared.
One of them, a strapping blond man who towered well over six feet tall, stepped up to the side of the truck and spoke in fluid Maltese.
Orm
an’s response was sufficiently halting to earn her a grin and a laugh.
“I speak English, miss,” he told her with a faint French accent. “You are expected, yes?”
“I am Ana Orman. I have tribute for the Titaness.”
“I see.” He stepped back and studied the van. “We were expecting you alone, with a personal tribute. This seems somewhat more…substantial.”
“That is conversation for my companion and the Titaness,” Orman said, with a gesture toward me. “It must be kept secret.”
He nodded, but he also stepped closer to the van again. He gave the very clear impression that he both could and would stop the vehicle moving if he didn’t give permission for us to go somewhere.
“Your business with Omm may be private, but I can not permit a stranger to enter her presence,” he told us. “Introduce yourselves.”
Orman started to object but I waved her off.
“I am Jason Kilkenny, Noble of the Wild Hunt and Vassal of Queen Mabona of the Fae High Court,” I said. “In the back of the truck is Riley Moriarty, Hunter of the Wild Hunt.”
“I am Mary Tenerim, aide to the Speaker of Calgary’s Shifter Clans,” Mary introduced herself. “I am here as an ally to the Fae Courts.”
Our greeter inclined his head to us both.
“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” he asked. “Leave the truck here. Does Mr. Moriarty need to come with you?”
“He is here to protect the tribute until it is turned over,” I explained. “Only the three of us need to meet with Theia.”
“Very well.” He stepped back. “I am Spiro Michelakis, grandson of the Titaness Theia. If you offer harm to my grandmother, I will destroy you utterly.”
There was no threat in his voice or body language. It was simply a statement of fact.
“Our presence here needs to remain—”
“A secret, yes,” he finished for Orman. “That is for Omm to decide, not me. I will not betray you until she has decided. Until then, you are safe here unless you violate her hospitality.”
That was a better offer than I’d been expecting, if I was honest.
“Thank you, Spiro Michelakis,” I told him as I stepped out of the van. “Shall we, then?”
Michelakis led us deeper into the underground complex, an anachronistic confusion of architectural styles from over five millennia. The very modern loading dock gave way to an underground entrance plaza that looked directly out of an old Greek city-state, a magical false sun lighting up brilliant white marble columns and brightly painted statues.
For all of the size of the plaza, it was entirely empty. The half dozen guardians in the loading area were the only people we’d seen in the caverns so far. The place was creepily silent, feeling more like a tomb than an actual living space.
I noticed the size of the doors as Michelakis led us across the plaza. All of them were easily twice the height of what I’d expect in North America, let alone on an island in the Mediterranean. I was expecting old buildings with tiny doors, but the archways and doors were at least four or five meters high.
Titan wasn’t just a name, it seemed. Myths of giants and gods were running through my mind as Michelakis opened a set of immense double doors and led us into the throne room.
Two more of the epically muscled young men were waiting on the inside of the doors, but they were the only occupants of the immense room other than the woman on the throne.
My thought that the complex felt like a tomb came rushing back to me as I looked at Theia the Wide-shining, Titaness Mother of the Sun and Moon.
It was hard to tell with her seated, but she was at least three meters tall. Even sitting, she towered over both myself and her grandson—and neither of us were short men.
She wore a dress of golden fabric that glittered in the light of another magical false sun and Power rippled away from her in waves…and yet.
And yet. For all of her size and power, her skin was sunken in on itself. There were still streaks of gold in her hair, but most of it had faded to a scraggly dirty gray. Theia was old, beyond the dreams and understanding of even many supernaturals.
She barely moved as we entered, her head slowly turning to focus on us.
This complex wasn’t Theia’s home. It was the tomb for a creature who would never die.
“So.” Her voice was tired and scratchy, but it filled the throne room easily. “The son of Calebrant comes before me. You edge far too close to my prohibition on Powers on my islands, young Kilkenny.
“Speak swiftly or be undone!”
Well, that wasn’t quite the response I had been expecting, but I could work with it. I moved forward several steps and bowed deeply.
“Great Lady Theia,” I greeted her. “I am no Power. Not even close. I am merely a Noble of the Wild Hunt, here on the business of the High Court. We did not wish to enter your territory without notice or tribute, so here I am.”
“The High Court has no business in my islands,” she snapped. “Why are you here?”
There was no way anything except honesty was going to work here. It was unwise to lie to a Power, and for all her age, I suspected that Theia was the most powerful entity I’d ever shared a room with.
“A rogue faction of Fae Lords has raised their banners against the High Court,” I told her. “They are regrown from the remnants of the faction that killed my father and several other Powers of the High Court.
“Now they have stolen the sword Asi from the asura who guarded it, and used its power to murder the Magus Sandhya Patel. They have eluded pursuit by asura, fae and wizard alike, but we have learned they have a fortress here.”
“And I am expected to care why? They are not Powers; they have not broken my strictures. If they are here, they have paid their tribute and have not bothered me.”
“We do not expect you to care,” I replied. “As you say, they have met your rules. But they are murderers and criminals in the larger world, and we seek your leave to bring them to justice.
“Rather than attempt to hit and run without speaking to you, I would have your permission to operate in your territory. We have brought the traditional tribute to become resident here, though we will only be here for a few days, weeks at most.”
She grunted, leaning on her hand and studying me.
“Spiro?” she snapped.
“They have brought silver and platinum,” he said instantly. “Ten tons and two. A generous tribute.”
“My own counsel I will keep on that, child,” Theia told him, silencing any further commentary from the young quarter-god. She focused her gaze on me like an angry laser.
“I am not inclined to authorize violence on my islands, son of Calebrant,” she said. “Such attracts mortal eyes and other troubles. Twelve tons of silver and platinum. How many warriors do you bring to me?”
“Ten Hunters and eight Companions of the Wild hunt, twelve shifters and twenty asura,” I counted off. “Plus Ana Orman, a Noble Vassal of the Queen of the Fae.”
“Such unhesitating honesty is refreshing,” Theia told me. “Except you brought an army to my islands, son of Calebrant. And what will you do if I deny you?”
I shrugged.
“I suspect that your denial will result in us finding ourselves in Italy at the very least,” I admitted. “I have no doubt in your ability to find my people and remove us all from your island if you wish.”
The coughing sound that followed had me momentarily concerned for the old Titaness’s health—and then I realized she was laughing.
“You have spirit, child,” she told me. “I do not promise my protection to those who pay me tribute. And in all honesty, if I did, the actions of these Masked Lords would invalidate that promise.
“Your tribute is accepted, son of Calebrant. You have one week to do what you must and get you and your little army out of Malta. Your welcome will last no longer. Am I understood?”
I bowed again.
“I understand completely, Great Lady. I thank you—”
&
nbsp; We were no longer in the throne room. The three of us were standing on the side of the highway, with Riley a couple of feet away from us. A cold wind swept in off of the ocean and I exhaled a long breath.
“Orman?”
“Kilkenny?”
“Call Coleman. Let’s make sure the trucks pick us up on their way to the ferry.” I smiled.
“We have permission—which means we have work to do.”
25
The trucks were roughly what I’d expected when Orman had told me they were normally used for smuggling migrants. They might be set up for people, but it was a very crude and uncomfortable arrangement.
There were no seats or even air conditioning units in the back of the trucks. A collection of blankets and cushions of varying quality covered the floor, and there was a water cooler strapped to the wall with a collection of plastic cups.
I suspected that the container had been significantly dirtier before we’d stuffed twenty-plus supernaturals into it. Telekinesis and other powers made short work of most dirt. They couldn’t make the padding any less distressed, but they could at least make it clean.
The trucks rolled onto the ferry without any major issues. They were presumably weighed along the way, but if any inspection was supposed to take place, it had instead collided with a wad of currency.
“Ferry takes forty-five minutes,” Orman warned me. “About thirty minutes before we leave and thirty before we can offload at the other end.” She shook her head. “That’s two hours without being able to even crack the seal.”
“That sounds…unpleasant,” Mary said. “Can we do anything about it?”
“We already are,” I told her. “That’s why we’re not baking in here.”
Mary shook her head.
“We’re not?” my girlfriend asked, brushing sweat away from her hair. “I feel bad for anyone stuffed in here without our advantages.”
“People die in these trucks,” Orman said quietly. “But it’s one way to sneak into the EU that isn’t being watched as closely as some others, and it’s safer than staying where they are.”
Noble's Honor (Changeling Blood Book 3) Page 13
