by K. A. M'Lady
“She’s right, you know,” I told him as I gazed out the front window; a world of memories stirring in the darkest recess of my mind. “Never underestimate my family or anything you might see within these walls. It may be bright, beautiful and have the appearance of love and well wishes, but just remember that it was my own loving mother who ditched her newborn daughter in the forest to be eaten by whatever came wandering.”
I truly hated the idea of coming to this place. Hated it more than anything in the world. So what the hell was I doing here?
“Rihker. Hurry!”
“Sweet Mother Earth! What the hell was that?” This from Gimlit as he jerked the steering wheel of the Jeep a hard right sending us swerving to the other side of the road. When we finally righted ourselves, bouncing back to all four wheels, I turned and saw the same look of astonishment on Mercy and Jade’s face as I did on Gimlit’s.
“So you heard it too, huh?” I asked as if it were no big deal. As if strange voices just called out to me in the night all the time and that not only I, but those around me should feel the rush of need and pain pour through their flesh.
“I didn’t just hear it. I felt it, like a wraith clinging to my soul,” Gimlit said, his voice a little shaken. “Is it the same voice from your dream?” His already pale face grew paler. I didn’t think there was much that could shake Gimlit, but for some reason, this did.
“Yeah,” I said. “It’s the same.”
As we pulled off the side of the road, we headed straight for the thick row of trees and foliage that surrounded the land; the Jeep bouncing along as we went down the grassy shoulder before coming back up. At the main entrance there is a thicket of pine trees, high prairie grasses and various sundry wild flowers and shrubs that are nothing more than an illusion to the humans that may drive past it. This is what we drove through, all the while listening to Jade. “Um, ah, Gimlit. The trees, Gim. I don’t think this is quite wise, old man.”
“Now do you see what I mean?” Mercy asked as we came out the other side, nary a scratch on us or the Jeep, Jade’s death grip on the back of my seat speaking volumes.
“You can tear a bear to pieces, kill a man with your bare hands, toss a small car and rip a Vampire in half if you wanted to, but throw a little Pixie glamour around and you’re freakin’ out,” I said, shaking my head as the Jeep rolled to a stop on the other side.
“Glamour. Riiight. I knew that,” he said as he got out of the truck, wiping his palms on the front of his jeans. “I just wasn’t expecting it, that’s all.”
I couldn’t help but smile at him. I really didn’t know Jade and his brothers that well, their stories, and now that he supposedly was my mate, I guess it was time I got to know more about him. Maybe if we survive this night, we’ll have the time.
The view outside the Jeep was more amazing than I remembered it being. It had been eight years since I’d been back to the Hill. I’d literally avoided it like the plague. Seeing it again, now that I had my own Tells, it was more beautiful than I could ever remember it being. Oh, it still stirred all kinds of horrid, terrible, hateful memories that began to churn in my belly like an awakening ghoul. But it was a beautiful kind of horror.
But I was here for a reason: the voice surrounded by Darkness amidst the hope of Light. The voice that called for me. Needed me. Expected me to come. And, there was Maebe’s prophetic rant as well: ‘Seek your answers by a mother’s light; beyond the secret brother’s door. Who knows, maybe I’d even find the damn Book.
Well, we were about to go seeking. Here’s hoping we found what we were searching for, and lived to tell the tale of it.
The field at the Hill of the Clans is large, lush and greener than anything you could ever imagine. It’s as though every drop of rainfall has filled this plot of earth with just the right amount of water to make the grass grow the perfect shade of summer green; and thick. It is thicker than the thickest, softest carpet you have ever run your bare toes through on the first days of spring. Oh, and the smell! The wondrous smell. Imagine roses, and lilacs and lilies and fresh cut grass and a subtle breeze across a cool rolling brook all woven together as the sun is just about to rise over a valley.
Set in the middle of this beautiful field, with the greenery of the earth all around is a tree. And not just any tree, it’s a hybrid; part elm and oak, ash and willow; its large, fierce limbs all woven together, all parts of the strength of the world. This is the entrance to the Pixie Kingdom. This was where I needed to go to meet my impending doom.
The wind suddenly picked up and began to gust across the open field; the knot that had been in my stomach all night turning into a boulder as I watched the moon, which had just moments before been reflecting brightly across the field, lighting the night with its beauteous silver glow, became blocked out by a band of thick black clouds.
It would seem the Darkness had followed us. That or it was already seeping its way inside the Hill without those inside ever being the wiser.
Chapter Seventeen
I think I’m in hell, therefore I am.
It’s the catechism come true.
I’m the slave of my baptism.
Parents, you’ve created my tortures and yours.
— Poor Nitwits!
From Hellish Night by Arthur Rimbaud
A Season in Hell & Illuminations
The wind had picked up so voraciously that we had to make a run for it; it’s gusting and thrashing fighting us every step of the way through the dark sordid night. Trying, with its chill, fierce might to keep us from entering the world of Fey.
Maybe the wind was trying to tell me something. Maybe it knew the things that would come to pass, and this was a really bad idea. Hell, come to think of it, any visit that had to do with my Queen and my mother all in the same evening was a really bad idea.
By the time we finally reached the entrance our lungs were heaving, each inhaled a gasp as though the breath had been striped from our lungs. My flesh felt as if it had been ripped from my bones—beaten by the eighty-mile winds.
Reaching the large torso of the tree, its branches a mass of living twists and turns, the doorway to the Kingdom opened at my unknowing touch. I could only stand and stare in shocked awe as the Darkness receded to the world of Light beyond.
The Elvin sentries who manned the other side were pretty shocked to see us there as well. The singing of blades from their sheaths as they blocked our entry and their immediate, “State your name and your business,” that preceded their large, round eyes only proved that this was indeed going to be a most interesting visit home.
“Rihker Tennai, of the Ivy Tenna-ai and her fellows, to see Queen Corral.” I made it a point to stand tall, proud and firm in the knowledge that not only did I startle the sentry guards, but that I had an appointment with the Queen. The guards had to be shitting, praying that I wouldn’t tell her royal Pixiness that we’d snuck up on them.
Maybe I would, and maybe I wouldn’t. We’d see how the night progressed. It’s always nice to start out with a little something in one’s back pocket.
I made it a point to smile. The guards looked back cluelessly.
For tonight’s visit I’d made certain we were all once again dressed to the nines. My last appointment outfit had to be burned thanks to Shadow Land Ogre slime and other sundry bits of blood and baggage. Not to mention the partial demon vapor that just happened to be bits of my father.
Maybe I should have saved some of the vapor. I could have given it to my mother as a gift. Yeah, I know, but your visit is coming soon enough.
The entry hall was just as big and as wondrous as I remembered it. The entire span is the length and width of four football fields, all done in shiny white marble floors and rows of floor to ceiling columns. Between each of the columns is an entrance to an alcove or a wing veering off to different rooms and different tortures.
Just because it was Pixie didn’t mean they didn’t know how to make their enemies hurt.
I always found it so a
mazing that on the outside it was just a tree. But on the inside it truly was a world unto itself.
We were headed straight down the hall; do not pass go, and most certainly do not collect two hundred dollars. All passengers keep their arms inside the ride. I must have been grinning like a stupid idiot while these last two thoughts wandered through my head.
“Tis the glamour, mistress,” Gimlit said as he caught my eye.
“Yeah, it always makes me feel giddy. I miss that about my own people. There just aren’t enough of us on the outside.”
“Some might argue that point with you.”
“I’m sure,” I said, following the next set of guards sent to lead our way. There were few people in the halls. A few emissaries from other Realms, Pixie Lords and their Ladies, their retinues and other castle staff. I passed a Banshee and wondered what one could possibly have to see Queen Corral about.
“The Land of Light and a lack of Love has certainly changed in eight years,” I remarked as I strolled down the hall, my shoes silent on the marble. Tonight I was wearing flat doe skinned white leather. They came up to my knees, exposing the line of my thigh. Above that was a purple leather mini dress, the top portion at the bosom done up in a white tank with spaghetti straps.
Mercy was wearing green again. This time it was fluorescent and the cat suit was leather, tighter and shinier than any that I had ever seen before. It had zippers all over it; up and down its arms at odd angles, down each side of the legs, zigzagging here and there, and one that dipped open at her cleavage, running down to her navel.
Surprisingly, for such a tiny creature, she had all the right curves to pull it off. Her shoes matched the green perfectly, and I wondered how someone five feet two managed to kick ass in four-inch heels.
“Hundreds of years of practice,” she said, following my line of sight.
“What? Oh. Sorry,” I stated, not meaning to stare.
“The question was writ all over your face. But no worry. ‘Tis a common question.”
“Better you than me,” I laughed. For once, it was a moment of easy banter. Here was hoping the night stayed that way. Too bad something in my gut was telling me differently.
We’d made it about seventy-five feet when someone caught my eye. There is no freakin’ way that’s him, I thought, eyeing the man who slowly made his way towards us from what had to be the Throne Room.
He was dressed in grey linen pants and a long grey robe, the hood covering half of his face and part of his long, dark brown hair. But there was no mistaking the squared jaw line, the lines of weather and age on what I could see of his face. Only this time I was seeing him in the flesh of a man. A man—not the spirit of a tree.
Ashlan. His name escaped my mind before I could draw it back. I knew better than to even think it, let alone say it out loud. Especially here. Names and words have power. I knew it, but it was too late to take it back as he stopped and looked up at me.
“So, young one,” he said, the timbre of his voice unmistakable. “We meet again.” He stood some distance from us, but I could still feel the weight of his words. Feel the deep intensity of his gaze even across the distance that separated us.
I remembered the rush of wind in my hair as I was lifted above the land. As I was held in his gentle grasp. They way that the leaves felt on my flesh, the feather-light touch of vines removing my clothes. The way that his spirit entered me, filled me.
“Indeed we do,” I replied, my voice thick with memory. I wasn’t sure if he caught the nuance of the memory or not. I was still skeptical as hell that it was truly him standing before me yet the voice in my head and the gnawing in my gut knew better. It was definitely very interesting to see this Elder of the Tree Spirits—Ashlan—in the flesh among this Pixie Court. If there was more time I might have found a way to ask him what the hell he was doing here.
Instead, I said, “I hope what brings you to the Land of Light leads you on your going.” It was a custom to speak so in greeting among us. To ask another of their business in this Realm was considered gravely rude and insulting. Ashlan merely bowed his head, stood and looked at me intently for a few seconds more and bid us on our way.
We managed the remainder of the journey to the Throne Room unimpeded. More’s the pity. I was really beginning to dread this meeting. I was quite certain my mother would be there. It was a reunion I could definitely live without.
Rihker…please. Hurry. The voice rushed through me. The emotion lighting up my flesh like a million candle flames. The voice was faint. Weak, even. Yet it felt so close, I could almost reach out and touch it. A wave of nausea rolled over me, as the emotion passed; sweat breaking out on my brow and I had to reach for Jade to steady myself.
“Are you okay?” he asked, as my hand reached for his. I clutched it in a death grip, hoping to steady the world. It didn’t help. The world swam around me filling with shades of color, glistening off each person in passing as though their auras were on hyper mode. I looked to the guard at the right of us and he was watching me closely, all but leaning in on our conversation. He became filled with a rainbow of red, shadowed by a rim of glorious yellow. His base chakra was strong, but soon began overflowing with the powerful glow of the sun. Sunshine yellow. The blaze of stress.
It made me wonder what his punishment would be if we were not to make it to the Throne Room in time.
“I’m fine. Just a bit of glamour flushed,” I lied. I looked to Gimlit and the area at his heart was glowing—the spell inside it lit up like a nightlight beneath his flesh. I reached for him with my free hand, pulling him to me as though in need of the strength in his arms, all the while still clinging to Jade.
Resting my head against his chest, facing Jade so he could hear me, I whispered, knowing that Mercy would hear me no matter how low I spoke. I’d learned in my short time with Kieran that Vampires have extraordinary hearing.
“I seem to be acquiring a Tell,” I choked out, the lights still dancing before my eyes.
“What kind of Tell?” Gimlit asked.
“I’m not sure. Everyone’s aura is exploding before me like a drunken kaleidoscope.”
“Do you see anyone with weak spots in their lights?” he whispered, the light at his chest slowly fading as the colors around me began to stabilize.
I leaned back from him, took a look around me, my gaze resting on the guards and nodded in response to his question. Gimlit’s eyes trailed to the guards and I wondered if he knew what I was able to see. There wasn’t any time to explain as the doors to the Throne Room were flung open, our arrival announced.
We stood in the entry of a grand ballroom, a throng of Pixies, Fairies, Trolls, Elves and all sorts of Other World creatures meandering about in all the fluff and finery of courtly attire, the sparkle of wings and jewels shining brightly beneath a plethora of crystal chandeliers. Men wore their courtly finery, their military propers from bygone eras and wars I’d never heard of, the women a rainbow of bejeweled gowns along with glowing wings.
All of their voices were raised in an assortment of old world languages. Laughter bubbled up here and there as creatures of the Light paid homage to the Pixie Court of Queen Corral. As soon as my name was called, those assembled with me mentioned, as well as their station and their breeding, the crowd went utterly silent; all heads turning to stare.
To the Pixie Court I am Deneau—Justice. Once said to be a blessing among the Pixie throng. For me, it is a title that I uphold with the greatest of meaning. It is the one thing of my birthright that my mother could never give me. The one thing she can never take away.
I was born with this title. It came in the shape of a scar on the inside of my right forearm. It is in the shape of the very thing that represents strength among the Fey—the Tree of Life.
The sea of people began to part as we made our way up the center aisle, the carpet the deepest shade of crimson I had ever seen. The better to hide the bloodstains, I thought.
On towards the throne we walked; the whispers and gossip al
ready making the rounds through the Throne Room. Let them talk—I really didn’t give a shit. These people meant nothing to me. I had stood in this place twice before and they neither defended me nor championed me. Let them have their whispers and their gossip. I was here for a purpose; and I wasn’t leaving until I set her free.
That was the first time the thought of what I was truly here for became a who. The voice was a she, and she needed me. Somehow, through the Light, the Darkness had found her. Found her and trapped her, and even now all the beautiful people of this Kingdom, my Kingdom were oblivious to the Darkness within their pristine little world.
“Fools,” I uttered.
“Do you wish to share your thoughts with the rest of my Court, Rihker Tennai?” The sweet, shrill voice of Queen Corral settled over the crowd like a cool summer rain as I realized I’d spoken loud enough for her to hear me. Letting out a slow, deep sigh, I gritted my teeth and bowed before her.
“Your pardon, my Queen,” I said from bended knee, my head bowed so that my long green hair swept before me, covering my face from the view of the crowd.
Shit, shit, shit! Not good, Rihker. Definitely not good.
“I see that time has taught you some manners. Tis good. ‘Tis very good indeed,” she said, and I could all but hear the wheels of torture churning in her head. “Get up, child, and let us have a look at you. Deneau you may be, but in my Court you are still the half-breed bastard spawn of a demon. So let me see what time has wrought.”
Jade, who was kneeling next to me, let out a slow, rolling growl. I placed my fingers on his shoulder and stood up. There was no need for him to lose his temper yet. There was still plenty of time for all of us to get pissed off and end up bleeding. The night was young. Besides, my mother hadn’t even opened her mouth yet.
