“Except for the eve before each solstice, when the sun’s movement disrupts the portals’ operation, leaving them accessible to mortals, the portals operate with a key, an object with the proper resonance to unlock them.” Rook pulled from his pocket a golden key coin with a mermaid on it and showed her. “We often use key coins that, once used, return to their owner. Each is unique.”
Cate plucked the coin from his fingers and cupped it in her hands. “It vibrates just slightly.”
A smile spread across his face. He couldn’t help it. Each experience, each memory he created with her, bound her more tightly to him. While besting his father’s favorite, Kallus, in court would be a sweet victory for Rook, there was more than just pride at stake. Cate held the outcome of their fate, the destiny of his people—indeed their world—in her dainty hands. For their good, if she was properly guided. She could just as easily destroy them—and him in particular. She had no idea of the power she could wield.
It was up to him to get her to see the worth of their plans, to understand how Uplanders were disrupting the balance between their worlds, threatening to destroy them both, and convince her to stay. But he’d have to give her good reasons. “You feel the energy in it,” he said, keeping his voice as even and smooth as he could, given the cascading jumble of emotions she stirred in him.
“Okay, so you have this key coin. But then what?” she asked as she flipped it over and over in her fingers, the gold flashing in the sunlight.
A light breeze caught her hair, toying with the curls at the base of her neck, making him jealously wish to do the same.
“You have to find a portal first. Most are marked by a rune.” He picked up a stick and drew the rune in the soft sandy soil of the riverbank. “This is the mark.”
“Can you make the mark yourself and have it open a portal?”
Rook chuckled. “You are far cleverer than regular Uplanders, aren’t you?” And far more dangerous, he thought to himself.
Cate shrugged. “Just makes sense to me.”
“We can form the rune in the Upland realm and open a portal, but from the Shadowland side you must find one that already exists.”
“Then what?”
“You throw the coin at the portal.”
“You mean like bus fare?”
Her enthusiasm was endearing. Yes, once she became familiar with their world, with him, she’d never want to leave. None of the Seers ever had once they’d been introduced to the court. Soon enough, she’d forget her old world and adjust to the realm of the fae.
Rook smiled. “Yes. Whatever that is.”
§
Cate gazed at the coin a moment longer, rubbing the still-humming piece between her fingers, then handed it back to Rook. As he took it, his fingers brushed against hers, sending a tingling sensation shooting up her arm. Her body was more than physically aware of Rook, it was tuned to him—to his touch, to his look, to his very presence—in a way that both unsettled and thrilled her.
For a moment she wondered if she should have kept the coin as a reminder of her time with him—and possibly a way to get back home if it took longer than the end of Midsummer’s Eve to find Maya.
No. She couldn’t keep it. Now that she knew the rune marking a portal looked like an Egyptian ankh, she’d be able to spot the way home anywhere. As long as she got Maya out before the solstice, she wouldn’t need the key coin; the veil would still be thin enough for her to walk through on her own. And it was far safer if Rook didn’t suspect her plans to return to her own world. She needed his full trust before she could ask him about the invasion.
A nagging sensation prickled in her chest. As certain as she was that she had to find Maya and return home, something in her gut made her just as certain that she’d never meet someone like Rook ever again—mortal or fae. The nagging turned into an uncomfortable pang just over her heart.
“Are you still hungry?”
Cate’s throat was too thick to speak, so she nodded instead. Rook sliced her a piece of the breadlike loaf and a hunk of what looked like cheddar cheese to go with it. It was sweet, yet completely at odds for a man of his royal position to serve her. And as little as it was, it meant a lot to her. “Aman and casin. It doesn’t taste nearly as good as the gilly fruit, but it’ll keep you from being hungry until we can get to Seaneath.”
Cate bit into the bread and found it soft and savory with hints of rosemary and olives. The casin tasted more like feta cheese than cheddar, salty and a little sharper than she’d expected, but she was happy with both.
Rook smiled at her, then cut slices of the food for himself. “Fae foods seem to agree with you,” he murmured.
“Have you ever met a human that they didn’t agree with?” she tossed back at him.
He chuckled, and Cate’s breath caught at the warm, rich resonance of it. She liked his laugh, liked the way it made her feel warm and bubbly inside. “A few. We once had an Uplander who raided the royal storehouse and ate so much he blew up to the size of a house.”
The food stuck uncomfortably in her throat and Cate coughed. “This stuff isn’t going to swell me up, is it? Bloating and I don’t really travel well together.”
He smiled at her and shook his head. “It only happened because he was so greedy and ate far too much. Enough to feed a catamount,” he added.
Cate felt marginally better but didn’t take seconds when they were offered. She stood, brushing the crumbs from her suede skirt. Every minute she spent with Rook was endearing him more and more to her in a way she couldn’t hope to explain. She needed to be away from him for a bit, just to clear her head.
“Um, I need to excuse myself to take care of, um, girl stuff.”
Rook indicated the woods with a sweep of his hand. “The forest is yours, my lady. Just watch that you don’t put any Illith fae in danger.”
Cate shifted her weight to her other foot, suddenly feeling the forest was a far less hospitable place. “What will they do?”
He gave her a devilish grin. “Bite you in the bottom.”
Cate’s suspicious feeling intensified. Wild fae weren’t the only thing about to bite her in the ass.
Chapter Six
The afternoon sun warming his back and the gurgle of the river would have been pleasant, if a war hadn’t been going on inside him.
Rook waited until Cate had disappeared into the dense thicket of trees before he hastily wrote a missive to his father on a scrap of vellum.
Have captured a Seer. Will reach you by tonight.
He rolled it into a small scroll, then took a beetle flier from his pocket, held it in the palm of his hand, and tapped its hard shell.
The iridescent blue-green metal casing opened, allowing the small glass- and gold-veined wings to unfurl. “Deliver this missive to the King of Shadows and no other,” he instructed the mechanical messenger as it clasped the scroll between its thin metallic legs. Vibrating faster and faster, the glass wings began to hum, and the beetle lifted into the air. It quickly became a glittering speck before disappearing among the trees.
It was done. Once the missive reached his father, Rook could not take it back. The entire court would turn out to observe the new Seer brought among them. He stuffed the remnants of their repast back into the saddlebag—and his feelings down deeper, until they swelled painfully in his chest.
Duty and honor warred with something far darker and deeper that was growing inside him. He’d always admired Cate from afar, thought of her in his dreams, but now that he’d touched her and felt her respond, those feelings were beginning to twist and change into something else entirely.
He didn’t know what to call it, this powerful drive to protect her, to know she would be his and his alone, no matter the consequences. It was foolhardy and rash. Bold and consuming. Fae generally didn’t have solitary life mates or binds to only one and no others. It was an anomaly among them. And the need to do just that was hungry and eating him alive from the inside out.
Cate emerged from the woods, looking ever
y bit as elegant, every bit as magickal to him as any of the Ragnorian- or Makcay-caste fae. The way she held her shoulders, the tilt of her chin, and the very elegance with which she moved marked her as regal. The powerful among the court would fight him to have a taste of her. And he would fight back. Cate was his.
“Are you ready to see the capital?” He extended his hands to lift her into the saddle of her catamount.
Cate wrapped her arms around his neck, bringing them into brain-searing contact that burned away his rational thoughts. “Kind of a silly question,” she said with a tilt of her head, her eyes bright. “A person can’t be ready for something they’ve never experienced before.”
Oh, he doubted that. He’d been ready and waiting for her for fourteen of her years. A mere smidgen of time in his world, but once he’d discovered she could actually see him, could touch him, each second she wasn’t totally his stretched into infinity.
He bent down, unable to resist the lure of her lush mouth, and kissed her, putting all the energy, the fevered rush she brought out in him into the kiss. She melted into him, her body pliant, soft, and willing. Gods, he’d never expected this with her.
Rook broke their kiss, both of them breathing hard, their hearts pounding against each other. “Very true,” he said. He’d been utterly unprepared for the all-out assault Cate waged on his good sense. He was not an animal or Illith fae, commanded by his basest needs. He had intellect. He had training. He had a sacred duty to serve his people. He could not simply throw it all out the window for a tumble with the most exotic, amazing creature he’d ever encountered. “But as a Seer, you’ve already discovered far more about us than most Uplanders will ever know. So it should be easy for you to adapt.”
He swung her up into the saddle, his resistance tested by the brush of her soft curls against his face and the feel of her curves beneath his hands. The sweet sensual fragrance of her skin clung to his clothes, reminding him of her with every inhalation. He had to rein himself in or this was going to be the longest day of his life.
Cate gathered the reigns in her hand. “Up!”
Her hips rolled with the motion as the big cat rose to all four paws, its tail sweeping back and forth, whiskers twitching. She learned fast. That pleased him. She’d need to if they were to face the Shadow Court together and declare her off-limits to all other fae.
Rook climbed into his own saddle and ordered the catamount to rise. “From here on, the catamounts will follow the mountain road leading to Seaneath. Bend low over your saddle and keep your arms in toward your side. It’ll make the run easier for the cat and less tiring for you.”
She gave him one quick nod, her face full of determination and focus. Gods, she was glorious. Rook gave a nudge to his catamount and forced himself to focus on the dangers ahead. “Forward!”
§
Cate nearly lost her breath as her catamount leapt forward, keeping pace with Rook’s animal at a ground-eating run. The forest became a blur, the air growing colder as afternoon wore on into evening. Grateful now for the heavy velvet-and-fur coat, Cate clamped her mouth shut and forced herself to breathe through her nose to keep the chill from knifing into her lungs.
Snow began to fall, casting everything in a whirl of white and a blanket of quiet. Rook slowed the catamounts to a walk. Well, really, it was more of a stalk. Their massive bodies were tense and ears flattened back as they moved slowly and deliberately through the trees.
“Where are we?” Cate whispered.
“The border with Wyldwood. It’s the fastest route to the capital but not the safest.”
Her body went rigid as she glanced around. What exactly did he mean? If the catamounts were used for transportation, then what the hell could be scarier that lurked in the woods?
Cate urged her big cat up closer to Rook’s, so that he was just a whisker’s breadth in front of her. She kept her mouth shut and her eyes open as her catamount stalked through the trees and snow on silent feet. Her nose was going numb and her cheeks stung. Rook maintained silence. The crack of the trees ricocheted through the area. A limb broke under the weight of the snow and it fell in a cascade of white. She jumped and her heart pounded in her ears, deafening in the silence of the woods.
Up ahead stood a pile of stones capped with snow. It wasn’t rubble, but neatly cut oblong black stones that stepped up into a mini pyramid. “What’s that?” she whispered.
“The border marker,” he replied in low tones meant only for her ears. “On this side of the stones we are in Shadowland. The trees beyond are Wyldwood.” Rook’s gaze penetrated the trees, his shoulders tense, one hand on the sword hilt sheathed at his waist.
Cate peered into the Shadowland side and saw an enormous evergreen, nearly as big across as the catamounts, with an ankh symbol the size of her hand carved into the trunk. She jerked her head. “Is that one of the portals?” Her words came out a mere breath of whitish mist in the cold air.
He merely nodded in response. But then his eyes went wide. “Go!” he shouted, his face contorted with anger. “Ride! Don’t stop until I come for you.”
Cate whipped around to catch a glimpse of what had startled him. Men clothed in long scarlet tunics were running toward them on foot from deep within the trees, weapons drawn.
She spun around, kicking her cat and yelling “Forward!” The catamount snarled and shied sideways. Two of the attackers came at her from either side of the road and tried to grab the reins.
The animal hissed and reared—swiping its great paws, armed with scythe-size claws—at the attackers. One fell, nearly cleaved in half. The other dodged out of the way and swung wildly at the cat with his sword.
That only pissed it off. The catamount let out a loud roar that shook Cate’s spine, then lurched forward and bit the man in two like an oversize rodent. Bile surged up in Cate’s throat as what was left of him toppled in a bloody mess against the snow. She sucked in great gulps of icy air, letting the sting of it in her lungs scour away the sick feeling.
Clutching the sides of the cat with her legs, she fought desperately to stay mounted as it wheeled around to slap at the attackers now coming at them from behind. “Get me out of here, you stupid cat!”
The catamount reared up on its haunches, nearly spilling her out of the saddle. Cate barely had time to register what was happening before she saw Rook leap from his big cat, taking on four men. The glint and clang of metal filled the cold air. His face seemed to change, his brows protruding, shifting, until they became felinelike, with long canines catching the dim forest light, but she couldn’t be sure. Perhaps she was seeing things. It was all happening too fast.
The cat twisted away from the noise and fury and started running, its whole body lunging as it sped down the trail. The trees quickly swallowed them up and while she could still hear the battle, she could no longer see it. Her catamount didn’t slow until the snow drifts lessened, then disappeared completely, its sides bellowing in and out, its breath hanging in great white misted clouds in the freezing air.
Cate was not only scared out of her mind, but totally lost. She didn’t know if she was still in Shadowland or had cantered off into Wyldwood. It all looked the freakin’ same to her.
She considered scratching the big cat behind the ears as she’d seen Rook do, but it was simply too daunting. “We’d better wait for Rook here,” she said quietly to the cat, hoping it would see fit to agree.
Little faces, some of them wreathed in leaves nearly camouflaging them in the foliage, pointedly stared at her. Cate shifted in her saddle, uncomfortable at being the center of their attention, especially when she was all alone. Twilight was coming quickly, casting long shadows along her path and turning the thick forest behind her formidable and dark. The hours were ticking down quickly and if time passed the same here as it did at home, Cate was certain she had only four or five hours left until midnight.
Even without the snow piled on the ground, the icy air sliced into the exposed skin of her cheeks and hands. She clutched her
coat more tightly around her. The last thing she wanted was to be alone in the fae woods by herself.
The earth trembled slightly. Beneath her the catamount tensed, a low rumbling growl vibrating its body. Around the turn in the trail came Rook and his catamount.
Cate heaved out a sigh of relief and gave him a brilliant smile. She’d never been so glad to see him in all her life.
“Are you unharmed?” he called out to her.
“I’m fine, what about...” Her words drifted away as she saw the bright scarlet color saturating his sleeve. “You’re hurt! Settle!” The cat hunkered down and she slipped off. Cate jogged over to him, and he dismounted with a grunt. Up close Cate could see the tight lines of pain bracketing his eyes and the grayish cast beneath his skin that she didn’t think was normal, not even for a fae.
“Sit down and let me look at that.”
He didn’t argue.
The sleeve of his coat was nearly sliced through and hanging open, exposing his tattered and blood-soaked shirt. She swallowed hard, uncomfortable with the sight of his blood—well, really anyone’s blood besides her own.
“Let’s just see.” She tried to pull back his jacket and he grunted and glared at her. Cate licked her lips. “Okay, how about we try this.” She pulled down on the hanging sleeve, and the fabric gave a ripping sound. He cursed beneath his breath.
“You are a lousy caregiver,” he muttered.
“And you suck as a patient,” she snapped back as she peeled the sticky, blood-soaked fabric away from the raw wound.
He sucked in a breath between his clenched teeth. So did she. “Oh, that’s just nasty.”
He chuckled, but it was not cheerful. “Have you ever stitched up someone before?”
Cate shook her head. “That’s what we have urgent care for.”
He frowned. “Then just bind it. I’ll have the healers look at it when we get to Seaneath.”
“This is going to take more than a Band-Aid.”
His frown deepened, merging his brows into one solid line of disapproval over his intense brown eyes. “There are bandages in one of my saddle packs.”
Shadowlander (Shadow Sisters) Page 6
