Dark Faery IV: The Cantares

by Bridget McGowan

  Simon replied, telling of Shauna Faun’s doings, and how they’d lately auditioned a dark Faery from Colm’s Isle but they’d had doubts about her ability to cooperate, so they’d declined her. He gave her name and then added that as long as Colm’s latest suggestion was in no way related to her, to send him on.

  Colm’s reply was swift and came with the Faery he’d mentioned.

  “Have nothing to do with Nuala. She’s trouble from dusk to daylight, and would be trouble during the day if she could but find a way.”

  Simon was satisfied that they’d chosen not to accept Nuala, but they’d need to take extra precautions with Rhiannon to protect her from the dark Faery’s mischief.

  The coven was excited by the prospect a new musician. Vincent was a sandy-haired fellow with a slight upturn in his green eyes. His turned up nose displayed a sprinkling of freckles and his ready smile betrayed a hint of the prankster. Flynn liked him before he said hello.

  “What can you play?” Simon asked once the introductions had been made.

  “Harp and flute. I have a fair voice, and if need be, I can fill in with bodhran.”

  Simon looked impressed. Vincent played a couple of songs with each instrument, and sang, then played with four of Shauna Faun. Colm was right about him.

  “Did Colm explain our rules?” Simon asked.

  “He did. You don’t feed from light Faery, and you decide when and if someone can become one of us.”

  “And can you comply with those rules?”

  “I can. I find the company I keep more important than who’s for dinner.”

  Chuckles sounded from the other members. It hardly took a vote. Still, they told Vincent they would give him their decision the next evening.

  “Is there any objection to Vincent?” Simon asked once the foreign Faery had gone off to feed.

  No one had anything negative to say. They were all quite impatient to see him join the band.

  When Vincent returned, he was greeted with congratulations and welcomes. He looked truly stunned that he was to become a member of Shauna Faun.

  “I’ve written to Colm thanking him for recommending you,” Simon told him.

  “I hope one day we’ll tour the Isle.”

  “We will. I have plans to go there in summer. You should be ready by then.”

  “I will. Count on it.”

  Different members of the band took turns taking Vincent hunting in an attempt to get to know him. He was easy-going with them all, although he seemed a little shy with Simon, since he was the leader. Simon also was a bit hesitant, recalling that Vincent was replacing Lucas. Much as he liked Vincent, he couldn’t help feeling the sadness of having failed Lucas.

  Vincent wasn’t one to leave others to sadness. Perhaps it was his own optimism, but he’d try to pull others out of their sadness. The fact that he couldn’t fathom what bothered Simon intrigued him.

  “What ails you?” Vincent asked him one night.

  “I have a lot on my mind.”

  “But you’re sad beneath all that.”

  Simon studied him. “I am. Some time ago Colm’s coven and mine had to do battle with an old enemy of mine to save a group of light Faeries.”

  Vincent laughed. “So, it’s true: you think of yourself as a protector.”

  “That may be. I’ve never thought of myself as anyone’s protector. But the light Faeries were captured because of something I had done. It was my duty to rescue them. In the process, I lost two of my coven and Colm lost four.”

  “I’m sorry to hear it.”

  “One of those was a Vampyre of my own making, so I felt the kinship of it.”

  “That’s hard, indeed. Do I remind you of him?”

  “In some ways. You are also quite different. Perhaps it is the realization that we’ve moved on. Don’t mind me. I get sentimental at times.”

  “I can’t imagine losing someone you sired.”

  “Have you sired anyone?”

  “No. I’ve never met a light Faery I could think of eternity with.”

  “We aren’t always eternal.”

  “Don’t I know! I saw a renegade or two flattened by Humans.”

  “And since they’re our food, we must be doubly careful.”

  Simon’s sadness didn’t last long, but came on at unexpected times. Music helped, as did Vincent’s humorous ways.

  XI

  Beltane. The four clans gathered for the event. Preparations had been weeks in the making. Young priestesses and druids, young men and women from each of the clans all excitedly awaited the jumping of the Beltane fire. The tents were ready and the fires laid.

  Celestials lined tree branches and fronds. Mercifuls and Benevolents flitted between their friends on the ground and those in the trees. Some of the Cantares mingled with others, but there were those like Master Legato, who thought themselves above the others. This was by no means true of all, but those who were his chosen singers emulated his ways. Of the Cantares who mingled, their voices set them apart because of the lilting quality. Many from the other clans enjoyed chatting with them just to hear their voices.

  The Cantares who thought themselves better than others stood in groups away from everyone else, looking critically at everything. This was tedium to them, and their body language made others avoid them.

  Simon watched the events from a tree beyond the village. As the Cantares arrived, he searched for Rhiannon, but she was not in the crowd. He saw the Widow Breve chatting animatedly with another of her clan. Both flitted slowly, and sometimes landed to walk part of the way. They settled with the aloof Cantares and continued their talk.

  Once he realized Rhiannon wasn’t there, he returned to the cave to find Harry.

  “Like that human story with the wicked step-mother,” Harry commented, once Simon had told him. “I think I’ll go cheer her up.”

  Simon nodded and Harry flew off. Simon returned to the festivities.

  He had always loved Beltane celebrations. As a light Faery, he had once nearly been a stag. Among the Mercifuls was a family bearing his name, but it wasn’t Mallow. He had changed his name when he crossed over. For a decade, at least, he’d given no surname, then chose one having no bearing on any clan from this country. He wanted to cause no embarrassment. His family had only known he’d disappeared.

  They’d known he had no interest in medicine or herbs. His interest lay in music. Once he’d visited his brother and sister after crossing over. His sister, a priestess, had refused to be in his presence. His brother’s family had welcomed him, but he had no doubt his sister had wasted no time informing them of his change. He’d never gone back.

  Simon shied away from contact with any light Faery he’d known at the time because the blood lust had been too strong He’d actually spent his first few decades on the larger island across the sea, where he’d met his friend, Seamus, and where light Faeries were more plentiful. Then on a whim, he’d gone off with some others across the great ocean. He’d narrowly escaped becoming one of Artemis’s slaves as they crossed his lands. He found protection with others who had formed covens.

  While he befriended entire covens, he hadn’t joined any. But one in particular interested him. They had recognized that Faeries were becoming scarce, even though the Faery plague from his country hadn’t touched theirs. Still, they decided to feed only on Humans, and the idea intrigued him.

  He accompanied some of them a few times observing, then tried it himself. While it wasn’t as good as Faery blood, it invigorated him, and he thought he gained strength from feeding on Humans.

  By the time he returned to his own country with Kele, the part of his family that he knew were long dead. He had perfected his hunting skills in Human Lands, and Kele and he had taken vows not to touch light Faery except to create thralls or turn someone.

  They had begun performing, travelling troubadours, to the delight of the light Faeries. Once or twice Cantares came to hear them, but left in a huff, as if good musicians not in their clan offended
them.

  Gradually other dark Faeries asked – sometimes begged – to join. And on a few occasions Simon, after discussing it with Kele, turned someone. Zoe was the first one they’d decided had more important things to do with her life than join Shauna Faun. Only her impending death changed Simon’s mind.

  The Cantare orchestra warming up brought Simon back to the present. He sat on the branch watching intently as the musicians tuned their instruments. The singers assembled in front of them. Around them was silence as the others waited excitedly.

  Finally, the music began. The musicians were well-rehearsed, making a lovely sound. The singers, as he’d heard before, were not to the standard the Cantares usually expected. The absence of Rhiannon’s voice made their lack less obvious. Still, he noticed a few of the Mercifuls and Benevolents shaking their heads in disappointment. Most, however, listened politely and were impressed by those who could sing better than they.

  Simon wondered what had happened to the hierarchy of the Cantares’ clan that the standards had deteriorated so. In his day, the likes of Master Legato would never have finished an apprenticeship, much less been put in charge of a choir. As the Vampyre listened, he discerned voices with potential that had never been brought forward.

  He began to understand their hatred of Rhiannon: she came naturally to what Legato had no idea how to bring out in his other singers. It was she who showed him up.

  A good priestess skilled in music would have kept the musical order of the clan. Obviously, they did not have one with that ability.

  Simon thought the right whisper in the appropriate ear might help improve things. He couldn’t do anything until he discovered who would make a better choir master. Even if he knew now, he couldn’t mingle with the light Faery here. There were too many medallions, too much goddess power here to allow it. On another day in the Cantare village perhaps, he could work a bit of magic that would set the clan on the correct path.

  Once the music was finished, the fires were lit. The priestesses led out the untried novices. From the opposite end came stags, some druids, some not. They played an elaborate game before the novices each chose a tent, lighting the ring outside the door as they entered. Both stag and novice wore a mask to hide their identity from the throngs of people watching. Only after they entered the tent did they remove their masks to reveal to each other who they were.

  The meeting wasn’t completely random. Some who had a particular novice or stag in mind let that certain one know in advance some peculiarity about their mask or costume before the Beltane event took place. When the coupling was completed, the stag emerged holding some token the novice had hidden inside her costume to let the waiting crowd know of his success. Simon idly wondered how often the expectations and tensions of the event had resulted in failure, since most novices wouldn’t want their stag to appear less than eager before entire clans.

  Once all of the stags had entered tents, some of the younger Faeries with paramours wandered off on their own Beltane celebrations away from the crowd. It was considered lucky to conceive a child on Beltane.

  While Simon observed the celebrations, Harry went to see Rhiannon. He saw her in her house through the window, sitting beside the hearth weeping. He tapped gently on the door of the house. She started, then wiped her eyes before answering the door.

  She looked surprised to see Harry.

  “You didn’t go to Beltane?”

  He shook his head. “Simon said you weren’t there, so I had no reason to go.”

  She led him into the house, and he looked around. Cantare houses weren’t built in trees or in the dirt, but looked similar to Human houses built of twigs, leaves and pine needles on the ground, back in the underbrush where Humans wouldn’t find them. The Widow Breve – or more likely, Rhiannon – kept the house spotless.

  “I think it’s terrible that she didn’t let you go.”

  “I hoped I could go, but I didn’t expect it.”

  They chatted for a long while. Harry told her about Vincent and how well he was fitting into the group. He asked about Nuala, but Rhiannon hadn’t seen her since the day she’d met her.

  “I’m glad of that. We’ve heard from friends across the sea that she’s trouble. I hope she’s returned there.”

  They talked and even sang a bit, their voices blending well. When they heard people beginning to return to the village, Harry retreated before he could be seen.

  XII

  By summer, Vincent was more than ready to travel to his homeland for a concert. He’d played several for the local clans, and enjoyed the response. He had some difficulty with the fans coming to the cave afterward because the scent of so many light Faeries in close proximity took some getting used to. Even Flynn still had difficulty at times. But on the Isle, the fans couldn’t come back because they were in loaned quarters, and there was no guarantee that other Faeries there wouldn’t take advantage of easy food.

  Harry again broke the news to Rhiannon that they would be away, this time for two weeks. She was cheerful enough about it, and assured him she’d be fine. He promised to come to meet with her as soon as he returned. The day they were to return, she told him, was her birthday, so it would be a double celebration.

  Rhiannon still hadn’t seen Nuala again. Harry hoped that was the last of her and that she’d gone back to wherever she’d come from. She hadn’t attended any of their concerts. Perhaps what she’d said to Rhiannon had been simply a barb to show she knew Harry was fond of the girl. Harry hadn’t really done anything to Nuala. She had no way of knowing which members of the band had voted against her, so she had no reason to single out Harry.

  Rhiannon assured Harry she’d be fine, that each day was much like the last, and only her visits with him made any light shine in her world. She would count the days until his return, and he promised to bring her a gift from the Isle of the Dark Cove.

  *

  Rhiannon sat by the water’s edge. Nuala watched her. She’d followed the girl enough over the past weeks when Harry wasn’t around. He would’ve sensed her, and she wanted him to believe she’d gone. Now that he was safely away she could get to know this light Faery who had kept his attention from Nuala.

  Nuala fluttered down to the ground and approached Rhiannon.

  “This is a pretty place,” Nuala said.

  Rhiannon turned.

  “You’re the woman I saw in the village.”

  “Yes, I’ve come back.”

  “Why?”

  “You interest me. And you look like you could use a friend.”

  “Harry said you’re dangerous.”

  “Did he?” Nuala asked, looking innocent. “Do I look dangerous?”

  “No, not really. You’re like him, though, aren’t you?”

  “Do you know what he is?”

  “Yes. He and Simon told me.”

  “Oh. Did they make you a thrall?”

  “A what?”

  “Did they bite you?”

  Rhiannon recoiled. “They’d never do that. I asked them to make me like them.”

  “And they won’t, will they?”

  “Not so far. They think I have too much to live for. You don’t, do you?”

  “I don’t know you well enough. You don’t seem to want to live very much.”

  “I don’t want to live here. If I could live somewhere that I could be happy –”

  Nuala laughed. “Do you think Harry is happy?”

  “Yes. He loves music and he is happy.”

  “He’s a Vampyre. He kills other Faeries.”

  “He doesn’t. He feeds on Humans. And he cares about us.”

  “And where is he now?”

  “He’s on tour with the band. They went to the Isle of the Dark Cove.”

  “Of course. He left you. Just as he left me. That’s the way of the dark Faeries. You can’t trust them to care about you, really.”

  “He left you?” Rhiannon asked.

  Nuala wandered along the stream. “Yes. He’ll get bored wi
th you and he’ll be gone. So, don’t pin your hopes on him.”

  “Why should I believe you?” Rhiannon asked, sitting on a stone.

  “He said you couldn’t trust me. Of course he’d say that because he knew I’d tell you the truth. He doesn’t want you to know how he hurt me. But if you don’t want to know about him, I won’t tell you.”

  She started to leave.

  “Wait. I didn’t say that.”

  Nuala smiled. “Maybe another evening. I must go for now.”

  She fluttered away leaving Rhiannon with her thoughts.

  Rhiannon found it difficult to believe what this woman said. But Harry did know her. He had warned her. Why would he lie? Why would he pretend to like her? Nuala couldn’t explain that, she thought.

  *

  Preparing for a tour involved a great deal of planning. They had trusted thralls who were seafaring folk who could discretely pack the sleeping boxes, and carefully load the instruments into boats owned by Shauna Faun. While the ships sailed at night and the Vampyres were there to oversee everything, they had to be sure the sleeping boxes arrived and were securely placed in the guest cave in which they were staying before dawn crept over the horizon.

  Colm and his coven were invaluable in finding the band places to stay.

  When Shauna Faun arrived and had their gear settled, they spent the remaining hours of darkness catching up with their friends in Colm’s coven.

  Shauna Faun had concerts throughout the Isle of the Dark Cove, and the crowds were larger at each concert. Colm’s entire coven watched the first concert from the trees, and afterwards declared Vincent played as if he’d been in the band forever.

  As a new band member, Vincent had quite a bit of attention, and gained a following of fans. It surprised him at first, but he quickly grew accustomed to the adulation and occasional chanting of his name. Since each band member had a following, they were pleased as Vincent’s developed.

  Simon watched Vincent throughout the tour. He knew Vincent had been a rogue Vampyre used to feeding on light Faeries at least some of the time. Even Colm’s coven sometimes fed on Faeries. Simon was concerned that Vincent might revert to his old ways. But each night before the concert, he went with the others to the Human lands to feed so the audience wouldn’t tempt him.