by Sumida, Amy
A rolling mass of bodies writhed and flew through the air in a sparking mist. Slick skin shining greasily in the moonlight, fanged mouths dripping venom, and corded arms reaching toward me, squeezing the empty air with gnarled hands and clicking the tips of their claws together in anticipation. They pushed and fell over each other excitedly, causing the whole congregation to rise and fall, widen and constrict, in a shouting, giggling, monster-fest.
It was just one glimpse but it seemed to flash-freeze itself into my mind so that I saw it clearly, every detail of it becoming sharper to me as I continued my mad dash. The sounds coming from behind me only emphasized the image, giving voice to creatures I didn't want to believe existed, much less believe existed behind me at that precise moment.
Each gnash of teeth illuminated a grotesque face in my memory. Each moan showed me a closer view of slick, putrid skin and chitinous bodies. Each screech brought back a vision of misplaced mouths, cloven hoofs, and talons adorning wings that blocked out the moon. There were things on the ground as well, and how was that fair? Hadn't Arach said the Wild Hunt flew? Why were the red caps stomping their way through the undergrowth with smaller goblins chasing after them? And the dogs. There were fucking faerie hellhounds out there. Dark fur and burning red eyes, intent on me as they howled in victory.
I didn't stand a chance. One way or another, I'd be caught and that was going to be the end of me. The only question was how long I'd last. Then it hit me. Unless they took my head, I'd live. They could torture me over and over but if they left my head attached to my body, I'd heal. Wouldn't that just float their little faerie boats? We could do this every night, a nice late night jog followed by hours of torture, and I'd heal up in time to do it all over again the next night.
My breath shuddered and I nearly fell at the thought. Arach might have his great romance after all. Oh hell, I may find a way to take my own head just to escape that fate. No, that wasn't me. I knew I'd suffer the torment forever, just on the chance that I might find a way to escape one day. Hope, vicious hope, and I was so full of it. Except for right at that moment. Searching the trees in a panic, I couldn't seem to muster any.
Then I stumbled into the clearing.
I clambered to my feet and looked around. The place was familiar, it was the same place I'd traced into the day before. Maybe I had a chance after all. I held up my hands, desperately trying to feel the energy of the Aether. All I needed was a little spark and I knew I could push my way in. Please, please, just one little tear, one little weakness in that damn faerie shielding.
“Fey have been trying to break into the Aether ever since King Cian put that damn ward up,” Arach was alighting behind me. I turned to face him, catching a glimpse of leathery wings as he folded them away. “You're not going anywhere, A Thaisce.”
“Fine, let's see what you got,” I dropped into my fighting stance, legs loose and arms angled up in front of me.
“What have you done to your dress?” He frowned, cocking his head to look me over. “It rather suits you. Then there's the added benefit of all that skin available for touching and slicing.”
He took in a shaky breath, closing his eyes and tasting the air with the tip of his tongue. His long hair was pulled back in a club, emphasizing the change in his features and showing off the glittering scales at his temples which had spread down his cheeks. His eyes were becoming more slanted, his brow lowering between them, and his lengthening canines were pressing into his bottom lip.
“Not good,” I whispered to myself and swallowed hard.
He went from relaxed to action in three seconds flat. One minute he was standing there looking all Hannibal Lecter, the next he was on me and I was on the ground. His chest was heavy on mine, his hands tight around my face, and his legs enclosing my own, pushing them together and pressing them down. I couldn't move my hands, he had them trapped at an angle against my sides, ensuring that any movement on my part would only cut me open.
My heart was racing but I stared him straight in the eye. I'd try for bravery for as long as I could. I thought of using my magics against him but a clenching in my stomach was warning me against the idea. Love might send this guy over the edge, Lust he definitely didn't need any help with, and War would only aggravate the situation. As far as Victory went, it was a little too late for that.
In a last act of desperation, I reached for his magic, sending out a pull like I had when I'd drained Aphrodite and Niyavirezi but his magic was blocked to me. This wasn't a god who'd taken human sacrifice, this was another creature entirely and I had no right to his power.
What did happen was totally unexpected though. A rush of magic flew into me from the Realm of Faerie itself. I had opened myself to the magic, grasping at anything in desperation, and Faerie had answered. It sang through my cells like a sailor come home at last, rowdy and exuberant but with a large portion of love and longing. I in turn, welcomed it with open arms, riding the rush of wild energy with my own exuberance.
It was empowering, exciting, and intoxicating. My whole body shook with pleasure and a burning need to use my magic, to do something, anything with this power. This magic wasn't indifferent, a tool to be used for my wants and needs. No, it was focused, a piece of Nature herself, determined to fly free through me. It was so consuming, so beautiful, that I'd completely forgotten both the Wild Hunt and its illustrious leader. When I finally opened my eyes, it was to find Arach staring down at me in fascinated glee.
Then he lowered his mouth, parted his lips, and just as he touched them to mine, he breathed fire into me. I responded automatically, opening to him and accepting his flame as if it were a daily occurrence. It warmed but didn't burn. Instead, it invigorated me further, shooting down to my feet and curling my toes. I was literally in heat, my skin tingling with excitement and my body going liquid beneath him.
Then the flame hit the faerie magic and something inside me broke with a bursting clang that I could almost hear. My whole body shuddered with the explosion, the combustible combination of fire and magic shooting through each cell with a feeling of release, like something had been trapped within them. I felt the fire swirl in my lungs, wrap over and around itself, and then lift out of me and shoot back into him. He drank it down, claws in my upper arms pulling me closer, tighter, as his lips hardened and ground into mine, sealing our mouths so he could suck every last lick of flame down.
Finally, he pulled away a little, his mouth brushing mine as he spoke. “I didn't believe it. How could I? There hasn't been another dragon-sidhe since I was born. Yet your blood spoke to me, revealed to me what I now know is fact. You are dragon-sidhe. You're the last female dragon-sidhe in all of Faerie.”
“Oh no,” I blinked up at him, slowly coming out of the dragon lust haze. “This is not good.”
Before he could reply, there was a ripping sound and a flash of light. We both strained our heads back to stare at the massive tree guarding the end of the road. There was a gaping, ragged-edged hole in the center of it, with only darkness showing through. I gaped in disbelief as I watched Odin leap through the hole on the back of Sleipnir, his eight-legged horse who actually only had four legs. Behind him were the Vikings of Valhalla, looking seriously less alive outside of the confines of Asgard.
Sleipnir stopped a foot from my head, giving me a great view of the inside of his nostrils. Arach shoved himself to his feet, spreading his wings and hovering a foot off the ground to better face this new threat. I jumped up and turned around, starting to smile at my lover, but his one eye was completely focused on Arach.
“You dare to call the Hunt down upon my wife?” Odin roared, pointing his spear at Arach's face. “Do you forget I also lead the Wild Hunt? That it was my warriors who brought reason to this farce? You're a pack of rapid dogs compared to my justice.”
Behind him, the opening was starting to buckle and I ran to him.
“Odin!” I held my arms up and he lifted me behind him with one hand.
“Count yourself lucky, faerie,”
Odin shouted as he turned Sleipnir about. “I don't have the time to fight you now.”
With that, we leaped into the Aether, pulling the dead Vikings back with us and closing the hole with a thunderous crack. Above it all, the last thing I heard out of Faerie, was the sound of Arach's agonized roar.
Chapter Twenty
Odin was yelling at me in Old Norse.
At least I think it was Old Norse, I'm not the best with languages. Either way, I was pretty sure there were more curse words in his ranting than there weren't. He had that look, kind of like an over inflated balloon, all red and about to burst. His one remaining eye was doing this bulging dance on his face and his veins were standing out against his neck. I was thoroughly fascinated.
“Vervain, do you hear me?” When had he started speaking English again?
“Ah, yeah,” I gaped at him. “You were yelling. I can hear you just fine but as you're yelling in another language, I can't really understand you. Though I am sensing some anger.”
“Vervain!”
“Yes?”
“What the flying fuck were you doing in Faerie?”
“Running away from the Wild Hunt?”
“Ahhhh!” He threw his hands up and continued to scream at the silver rafters.
“You've broken Father,” Vidar said as he came up behind me with Trevor and Kirill.
I had only a second to turn before I was in Kirill's arms, my face pressed against his chest and his arms tightening around my back. I squeezed him back, relief filling me. I hadn't been sure I'd ever hold him again and I hadn't realized how much that had affected me until that moment. I felt his lips on my forehead, his breath warming my skin as he shuddered and then quieted.
“Tima,” he growled. “I could murder you.”
“I think I've had enough of men who think violence is romantic,” I teased and pulled away but that was so the wrong thing to say. His eyes widened before narrowing but Trevor beat him to the punch.
“Who the fuck threatened you with violence?” Trevor grabbed me and pulled me over.
“Oh, just a dragon-sidhe,” I shrugged. “You know how my life goes. One minute I'm dancing with werewolves, the next I'm running away from a dragon who thinks blood is sexy.”
“He was a dragon-sidhe?” Odin had finally stopped screaming.
“Can I hug my mother now?” Vidar pulled me out of Trevor's embrace.
“Hey, baby,” I hugged my son from a previous lifetime.
“Hi, Mom,” he shook his head, his long, black hair falling around us. “What have you done now?”
“Nothing on purpose.”
“You never do anything bad on purpose,” he laughed.
“Yeah, yeah,” I made a disgruntled face at him. “How's Vali?”
“He's fine, Vervain,” Odin shouted, getting in my face. “Everyone is fine except you, who simply can not help but find trouble, usually in the form of randy yet dangerous males. Now was that or was that not a dragon-sidhe I found lying atop you in the Faerie Realm?”
“Lying on top her?” Trevor started growling.
“Vat is dragon see?” Kirill frowned.
“Dragon-sidhe,” I looked over at my confused lion. “It has a shhh sound.”
“She, like voman?” He looked even more confused.
“Yes like voman!” Odin shouted and then realized he'd made fun of Kirill and settled down a little. “Sorry, Kirill. Yes, it sounds like she but it means a type of faerie, the type that look the most human.”
“Ah, okay,” Kirill nodded, then frowned at me. “Vy vas he on top of you?”
“Because he chased me down and caught me,” I gave him my duh face.
“Vervain!” Odin was about to pop his balloon face.
“Yes, Odin, okay?” I shouted back. “He's a dragon-sidhe and so am I!”
Complete and utter silence.
“Excuse me,” Kirill held up a hand. “I zink I misunderstand again.”
“Nope,” Trevor was trying his best to breathe slowly in and out. “She said she's a damn faerie.”
“What do you mean, you're a dragon-sidhe too?” Odin had got real calm. Too calm.
“Okay, nobody freak out on me,” I looked warily around. “I just found out myself, practically the moment you rode in to my rescue. I met the High King and Queen, and they told me all witches are part fey. Then they said my blood was most likely super diluted because they've been cut off from humans for so long but then I asked if it was only blood or was it spirit too. And then they said, whatchu talking 'bout, witch-girl? And I said...”
“Vervain!” Trevor growled.
“Okay, maybe they didn't call me witch-girl,” I huffed, “I was dramatizing it for greater effect.”
“Just please get to the point,” Vidar begged.
“Okay already,” I sighed. “They said since I was an old soul, I most likely had more fey blood than they originally expected. I probably have the most fey blood of any human on the planet. The fey is in the soul, evidently.”
“But how?” Odin sat heavily into a chair.
“Humans didn't have magic until they started making babies with the fey,” I explained. “That's how we got magic, so if a human can do magic, she or he is part fey.”
“I always knew Sabine had some kind of special energy in her,” Odin breathed. “She was so different from the rest of her family. I always suspected she was the child of a secret union but dragon-sidhe? I never would have guessed.”
“Wait a minute,” I frowned, a thought flitting around the edge of my mind. “You're saying my mother, Sabine's mother, had an affair with a faerie?”
“Most likely,” Odin was staring into the fire, his eye twitching a little. “The rest of the family had no magic.”
“Then Sabine was half faerie,” I whispered and Odin's face turned suddenly toward mine.
“No,” he whispered back.
“Vat is big deal?” Kirill took another chair, one across from Odin. “Ve have her back, she's safe. Vat does it matter vat her blood may be?”
“You're too young,” Odin looked over at Kirill and frowned. “Or maybe just from the wrong part of the world. Either way, you've never dealt with faeries if you can ask that.”
“The fey are vicious, capricious, cunning, and powerful creatures who can be horrifyingly ugly or breathtakingly beautiful.” Trevor came up beside me and took my hand as if to offer me support, despite what he was saying about my new relatives. “Most often than not, it's the beautiful ones who are the most bloodthirsty. They have untamed magic available to them in aggressive amounts and could level cities on a whim. The most frightening thing about them though, is that those whims hit them quite often and dangerous things happen when they get bored.”
“And Tima is one of zem?” Kirill looked me over critically and then laughed, loud and hard, shocking everyone, including myself. “You fools. She is same voman today as yesterday. It matters not to me if she has blood of faerie or blood of finch. She's mine and zat's all zat matters.”
“You're right,” Odin huffed out a laugh. “It doesn't matter inasmuch as I love her but it does matter now that she has their attention. They may decide to come looking for her.”
“Oh,” Kirill grimaced, “zat not so good.”
“Arach did mention that I was the last female dragon-sidhe in existence,” I mumbled.
“What?” Odin gaped at me. “You couldn't just be dragon-sidhe, you had to be the last female? Can you do nothing without extremes?”
“No, Odin,” I growled. “I deliberately try to get into the most difficult and complicated messes that I can possibly find, just to irritate you. By the way, how did you manage to get me out of this particular mess? They said the way back was sealed and they were trying to find a way to re-open it for me. How did you get in and how did you even know I was there?”
“I heard the horns,” Odin's face smoothed into sober lines. “I haven't heard the horns of the Hunt in ages. As head of the Norse Wild Hunt, we're connected in a
way. I can feel their call. As far as knowing you were involved, how could I not? Kirill had just sent word that you were missing after trying to navigate the Aether alone. If you were anywhere outside of the Aether itself, it made perfect sense that you'd be there.”
“Yeah, cuz that's where she could find the most trouble,” Trevor smirked and pulled me over to sit with Odin and Kirill. Vidar followed as well.
“Wait,” I remembered what the High King had said about time being different. “How long was I missing before you sent word to Odin?”
“Minutes,” Kirill shrugged. “I knew if you veren't home ven I got zere, you vere lost. I was prepared for it before you left.”
“Minutes?” My jaw fell open, “and how long before you came after me, Odin?”
“Minutes as well,” Odin frowned.
“I was there for over a day,” I blinked. “A day and a half really. I had dinner with the High King, went to bed, was abducted by the King of Fire, went to sleep, got up and spent the day with him, and then he sicced the Wild Hunt on me after the sun set. That's when the horns sounded.”
“And then I entered the Aether,” Odin blinked in surprise, “and I found your trail. I guess time flows differently in Faerie.”
“That's what the High King said” I sat up in my seat. “Wait a minute, you can do that? You can follow my trail through the Aether?”
“Only when the navigator is floundering, leaving scattered traces of herself behind,” Odin focused a glare on me. “I used the weakness you'd unknowingly created in the wards of the Faerie Realm, to push my way through and then kept the Wild Hunt behind me, temporarily propping the door open, as it were.”
“You had perfect timing,” I got up and went over to him. “You saved my life. Thank you.”
“Vervain,” he groaned and pulled me into his lap. He hugged me fiercely and I hugged him back. “If at all possible, I will always come for you. I swam the well for you. I would do anything to make you safe, pull down the stars from the sky if I had to.”
