Glamour of Midnight

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Glamour of Midnight Page 7

by Casey L. Bond


  Her long, dark hair was thin and her scalp was peeling off in patches. She gnashed a set of yellowed, broken teeth. Her skin was a shade of pale green, and the dark rags she wore over her body were shredded, flapping in the wind behind her like macabre pennants on a breeze she made. She shrieked again, swooping at us. Loftin threw himself in front of me, shielding me with one hand as he brandished a sword in the other.

  “Get down!” he gritted. I crouched, my hand bracing against the forest floor as I watched her fly toward Loftin.

  She opened her mouth and it stretched, her jaw coming unhinged as she gnashed her teeth at Loftin. She was going to eat him! Rising to my feet, I raised my staff and stood beside him.

  His sideways glance was one of barely restrained irritation.

  She swooped toward me and I tightened my grip, ready to wallop her. But Loftin was suddenly in front of me. He struck out, slashing her with his sword at the tender spot where her neck met her shoulder. She let out a screech and flew backward, glaring at both of us as she disappeared into the canopy.

  “Is she gone?” I gasped, gripping my staff like a club.

  Panting, our breaths visible in front of us, Loftin stared at me. “We need to find shelter. She’ll be back.”

  “But you hurt her,” I argued. “How soon can she come back in the shape she’s in?” Even as I said it, I remembered the glare she threw our way before she vanished, which promised it wouldn’t be pretty for us when she returned. She wanted revenge.

  His eyes flashed with anger. “Very soon. Banshees are one of the most stubborn and determined creatures in all the land. And while we’re on the subject, the next time I tell you to get down... do it, and stay down until I tell you otherwise.”

  “I can defend myself.”

  He gritted his teeth, lunging at me and bringing his nose so close to mine, they touched at the tips. A pop of electricity stung both of us. I stepped back, but he moved forward again. “Do you want to live long enough to find Iric?”

  “Of course I do.”

  “Then learn to take orders.”

  LOFTIN

  I hated Banshees during the normal course of business, but the fact that we’d had a skirmish could only mean one thing. Nemain knew Karis was in Faery. The Banshees bowed to the Queen without question. They were her mutts, and Nemain sent them to attack us. It also proved she didn’t want me to collect the bounty. I hated to disappoint her, but I would succeed at bringing the girl to her, and she would be forced to keep her word.

  Tugging my gloves off, I put them in the small bag slung across my back. Karis had been wise enough to pack a few things for her journey. I wondered what her bag held. Probably not much, judging by the size of it.

  I could understand why the humans were frightened of her. They wouldn’t have seen through the glamour, but if she just appeared from nowhere, blind and with no explanation to appease them, as frightened as the humans were of the fae, I could see where it would have made for a difficult life.

  Whomever hid her away chose her location and her guardian well. Iric. His name annoyed me. Apparently, the human took her in without question. He probably wouldn’t even have had to be glamoured to do it. No doubt he cared for her. He was a natural protector. That flaw led him into the woods alone. But I should thank him for his idiocy. His departure was the impetus that drew Karis out of Ironton.

  Nemain’s cruel smile crossed my mind. If her Banshees weren’t successful, would she come for Karis herself?

  As we ran, the last light of day sank over the hills to the west. Together, we carved a path through the woods, hurtling fallen logs and winding around thousand-year-old trees.

  “We’re leaving Iric’s scent,” she panted.

  “We have to for now,” I answered. “You’re just going to have to trust me.”

  The wind grew cooler, then cold as ice as twilight set in. I grabbed Karis by the hand, her eyes wide when they met mine. She instinctively knew what had returned.

  “There’s a large hollow tree, just ahead—there,” I instructed, pointing. It wasn’t ideal, but it was the only choice. We took off, running as fast as we could through the dying trees and scrub. The tree was large, but the opening in its side was not. Karis easily slid inside, but I was stuck at my chest. She pulled me in, my chest scraping painfully across the dry bark.

  The scrapes would bleed, which was a very bad thing. Banshees could smell blood from miles away.

  “Are you okay?” she whispered, her voice quivering.

  I pressed a finger to my lips and she nodded. Her lips trembled as our breath crystallized before us. I eased to the rear of the trunk and pulled her back, away from the hole we’d squeezed through.

  The Banshee screamed overhead. Karis clasped her ears.

  The beast would not stop screeching. It bellowed. Cried. Shrieked.

  It was searching for us, trying to hear the slightest shuffle of movement. When Karis’s knees went weak, I held her up, my arms around her stomach.

  When she opened her mouth, I covered it with my hand. “Shhh,” I whispered in her ear. Suddenly a frigid wind whipped into the tree, swirling around us. Karis cried out from beneath my hand at the stinging burn as it bit and tore at our flesh.

  And then the Banshee was before us, staring into the crevice, a mangled smile formed across its skin; skin that seemed as though it had been stretched far too thinly over bone. Their eyes were hypnotic, and instantly I knew I had to warn her.

  “Don’t look at it, Karis.” I tugged her hand off her ear and yelled, “Do not make eye contact!”

  My hand was still clamped over Karis’s mouth. Her breaths came rapidly, and then something warm and wet splashed onto my fingers. She was crying. She glanced back at me and I tried to infuse her with some strength. Eyes on me, Karis, I pleaded silently.

  She was terrified. Another tear dropped onto her cheek and carved a path down her skin, falling onto my hand. She turned away from me.

  The tear didn’t freeze, as I would have expected, and instead of closing her eyes, Karis was staring straight into the face of the creature hovering in front of us. The Banshee’s eyes, one a shade of blue and the other brown—both obviously taken from someone or something else—blinked twice at Karis. Then things went downhill.

  The Banshee raised her hands, claws appearing at their tips. With a shriek, she began to slice and tear into the tree. Splinters flew in all directions and the trunk shook under the assault. Karis pushed back against me, crying hysterically, but we were trapped. I was a fool to think we should hide in a place where we couldn’t fight our way out.

  “Loftin,” Karis gritted. The opening was getting larger with each of the creature’s determined blows.

  I hated to show her, to give her any ammunition against me, but it couldn’t be helped. If we were going to make it out of this trunk alive, I had to use my power.

  7

  KARIS

  Loftin eased me behind him and held his hands out, palms extended toward the Banshee. He was trying to protect us. The creature didn’t even notice his movement, too determined to shred the tree. And then she was gone. He exhaled loudly, a brief moment of relief.

  He started to glance back at me, and then a loud cracking sound came from above us. “She’s trying to tear it in half! We have to get out of here!” he exclaimed.

  “NO!” I screamed. If we left the trunk, I was afraid we were as good as dead.

  Loftin uttered a curse and grabbed my upper arms. “Will you trust me? I promise I won’t let anything happen to you. I swear it.”

  The people of Ironton had several rules regarding the fae. Never give a faery your trust was one of the most important. But the way he vowed to protect me, the urgency and his tone, made me believe. He’d gotten me this far.

  I nodded my head rapidly. We could do this. I needed to get to my staff, which I dropped just outside when we squeezed into the tree. And Loftin had his sword. He’d wounded the Banshee with it before. “Okay,” I answered shakily.
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  My pulse raced, but the option of running was taken from us when the Banshee tore the tree completely in two, exposing us. She hovered in the air above, and a sickening smile crept over her lips as if to say, “I’ve got you now.”

  When I examined her eyes, I saw something in them that wasn’t evil at all. There was desperation. She moaned as if trying to speak, and reached her hand out to me. Droplets of blood dripped from her fingertips. Her claws had retracted.

  She needed something. She wasn’t trying to hurt me.

  I reached out to her.

  Our fingers were inches away from touching when Loftin bellowed a battle cry and sliced the Banshee’s head clean off her body. It landed with a loud thump on the forest floor, just before the rest of her crashed to the ground at my feet. Her eyes, fixed and vacant, stared at me.

  I whirled around to Loftin, who was panting and swiping the Banshee’s blood off the blade of his sword. “Why did you do that?”

  “She had you under her thrall! You were reaching out to her. If she’d gotten ahold of you...” He sheathed his sword and braced his hands on his hips, exhaling loudly.

  “I wasn’t under her thrall!” I yelled. And I wasn’t – I was simply trying to understand her. When I reached out to her, it was because I knew I needed to touch her.

  “You were,” he retorted, shaking his head disgustedly. “You don’t even realize how close to death you just were. And if you want to find your friend before one of them,” he gestured to the dead beast in front of him, “or something worse does, you need to listen to me. I told you not to look into her eyes. It’s how they hypnotize—humans, animals, fae. They’re incredibly powerful, and just because you didn’t ‘feel’ like you were under her control, believe me when I tell you that you were. There’ll be very little I can do to help you if you refuse my advice in this place, Karis. Very little.”

  Harried and wild in his appearance, with eyes of fire as he stared at me, waiting for an answer, I saw just how frightened he was.

  He was right. He knew this world and I didn’t. “I’m sorry, Loftin. I should have listened.”

  He glanced away from me and muttered, “It’s okay.” Focusing on the hollow trunk she’d torn in half to get to us, his eyes narrowed. “What is that?” he muttered, walking toward the trunk. He knelt down and ran his fingers along the bark.

  With a jolt, I realized it wasn’t dead anymore. What had been dark, dry, and brittle had become moist and strong and supple. “I thought the tree was dead,” I whispered, crouching beside him. My fingers traced a small vine that climbed up the bark. Tiny leaves began to sprout along the creeper where I touched it.

  “Karis,” Loftin choked.

  I pulled my finger away and scuttled back, my hands digging into the ground. He rose and watched in awe as the ground around me turned green and vibrant. It was coming alive, and somehow, I was the one bringing it back to life.

  Loftin pulled me up, his hands grasping my shoulders. “How did you do that?” he asked, his voice teetering on the precipice of awe and fright.

  I shook my head rapidly. “I don’t know.”

  Loftin stared at me for a long moment and then let me go. I stumbled backward a couple of steps. He rubbed the scruff on his jaw. “I need to think. And we have to get going.”

  I stared at the tiny green leaves on the vine and then flicked my eyes toward the Banshee. Loftin stepped in front of me. “Don’t. We have to keep moving forward. Don’t look back, Karis.”

  As darkness descended, the forest became eerily quiet. When the land died, it must have taken the insects with it. I missed their song. I missed my home and my cot, too, but most of all, the comfort that Iric had always given me. He always made sure I was safe, fed, and kept from as much ugliness as he could prevent. Here, even though I was with Loftin, I was on my own.

  “Loftin, I can’t find Iric’s scent trail.”

  “We have to go this way to keep safe,” he vowed. “There are places in this forest that should be avoided, and if you know them, you can skirt around them. Once you’re used to the feel of this place, you can sense danger coming, even a cool shift of the wind.”

  There was hesitation in his voice.

  “But that means Iric is in danger. He needs us,” I pressed, pushing away the image of Vivica sitting at her vanity, waiting for me to return her son.

  Loftin was quiet, lost in thought or trying to sense the atmosphere around us. The only sound was that of our footfalls crunching upon the dead, dry leaves.

  We came to a small cliff, not that I could see it in the dark. Loftin grabbed my arm before I walked over the edge. “I think I know which way he went. We’ll keep moving, but slowly and carefully,” he announced.

  “Do you think we’ll catch up to him?”

  He nodded once, but wouldn’t meet my eyes.

  “Maybe he’ll make a fire and throw up a smoke signal,” I offered.

  The moonlight illuminated his sharp features. He was beautiful, otherworldly. “If he does, it would be a grave mistake. It would send a signal to every hungry Unseelie in a fifty mile radius. Not the best idea.”

  I swallowed and prayed Iric kept moving, too. Or better yet, climbed a tree and stayed put. That would be best for all of us. He had to know how dangerous a fire would be here, despite the fact that it was so cold. Unlike the warm summer inside Ironton’s dome, in Faery, an enduring chill hung in the air, and not only from approaching Banshees. It wasn’t frigid, just uncomfortable.

  “Let’s take a short break and then we’ll carry on,” he proposed, sitting on a fallen log to rest. Loftin removed his small bag, settling it within reach.

  My stomach was empty and Loftin must be famished, too. I sat next to him and removed my own bag, reaching inside for the fruit and bread I’d managed to find. When I lifted the apple, its soft flesh gave way beneath my fingers. “It... it’s rotten,” I exclaimed, astonished. What was supple fruit this morning was now soft to the core. As I pulled out the small loaf of bread, the thick scent of mold filled the air. “These were fresh just this morning.”

  I held the fruit and bread up to see them in the moonlight and watched as they dried, turned to dust, and blew away on the soft breeze.

  Loftin gave a rueful grin. “Welcome to Faery.”

  I dusted my hands off on my pant legs. “How is this possible? Why is everything dying?”

  “I already told you. It’s because the original courts are gone. There’s no magic, nothing to stop the shadows and ash that consume everything in this place.”

  “Someone has to be able to stop it. Are there no Seelie left to fight? Are the Unseelie the only fae with power?”

  He scrubbed his face with his hands. “No, there are a few Seelie left, but their powers have greatly diminished. You see, a fae’s power depends on the nature around it. They draw power from their court and leaders. Without either, they’re almost as defenseless as a human. Most of the Unseelie are just beasts, controlled by nothing more than hunger and instinct. They have no power other than brute force and determination.”

  “But you’re powerful. You’re Seelie,” I claimed quietly. He’d killed one Banshee and was merciful to another. He’d killed the beast with the great tail that had lingered outside Ironton.

  “I’m very old, so my power hasn’t disappeared entirely, though I feel it diminishing little by little each day.”

  He didn’t appear to be old. He looked only a few years older than Iric and me. I took in his slumped shoulders. He was fighting to survive, too. How awful it must be to feel your essence being sucked away and powerless to stop it.

  “Who rules the Unseelie?” I asked, the darkness around us seeming to thicken.

  He stared at me, a war raging across his face. “A dark queen. Don’t bother asking her name. I wouldn’t say it in this place. It may call her to us.”

  I rubbed my arms. Loftin noticed. “Come here,” he entreated, raising his arm.

  I barely knew him, but something deep within con
vinced me that he wouldn’t hurt me. If that were his motive, he could have a thousand times today.

  “Why are you helping me?” I asked carefully.

  He lowered his arm and tilted his head to the side. “What do you mean?”

  “What’s in it for you? You’re supposed to be roaming the forest hunting—whatever it is you hunt. Why stop to help me find Iric?”

  He smiled slightly. “Life here can be monotonous. I crave variety, and you are currently providing quite an adventure. Two Banshee attacks in a span of only a few hours is impressive.” His tone changed, lowering and becoming quieter. “I also don’t like to see innocents killed at the hands of the Unseelie. You and Iric are innocent. Plus, you owe me a favor.”

  Iric was out there somewhere. “Do you think Iric’s okay?”

  Loftin raised his arm again and this time, I slid into his warmth. “Only time will tell, but he’s made it farther into Faery than most.”

  Trying to ignore the way his body pressed against mine felt warm and muscled and powerful, I fought the blood that rushed into my cheeks. He’d given me no indication that he saw me as anything other than a girl who happened to aggravate him and ignore his sage advice. Except when he’d spoken about my lips and scent...

  The way his eyes pinned me into place as he described me as a fae female made me feel like one of Gregoire’s moths. Would he keep me confined as a pretty thing if he could, only for his hands to touch? The thought made me warm and cold at the same time. What would it be like to be wanted by a man? What would it be like to—?

  Loftin shifted beside me and I pushed such thoughts from my mind, gulping them down with the knot that had formed in my throat. This is nothing, I told myself. Iric and I sat like this a thousand times before and I never felt this way. Loftin was no different than Iric. He wanted to help. That was all.

  But was it more?

 

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