by Scott Duff
The elf was astride a magnificent stallion, had to be twenty-two hands high—impossibly tall for a horse, yet perfectly proportioned, of rich chestnut brown and thickly corded with muscles. A magnificent white starburst pattern marked its forehead, ending in fine lines. The elf atop the horse looked like a black and white harlequin in triangles, not too far from my armor’s pattern. It was both striking and gauche at the same time. The cut of the outfit was elegant on his long form, but the flashing colors were too extreme for me. The only weapon he carried was a simple eight-inch dagger on his belt. The elf himself could only be described as beautiful. Of course, you saw what his magic wanted you to see. I saw both, but I think my brothers were the only ones who knew that.
Still, the single most interesting item about this elf is that he was a flag bearer. From his stirrup, a pole was set and run through his hand and past his head probably six feet. At the top was a pennant of white, a truce, and below that was a green silk square bearing the Elven mark of McClure in the same dark blue that colored the geas of the Faery earlier edged in fiery orange of the rising sun. I knew no one here knew the significance of those colors, but they’d find out soon enough.
I felt more than saw that three riders were issued from the stables to the gate. That would speed their arrival considerably. The gatekeeper started to close the gate as the first elf cleared its path when two more elves appeared from the gloom, startling the man. On the left was a tall male Unseelie elf riding a stallion of the darkest black I’ve ever seen on an animal. The horse was at least three hands taller than the first elf’s and looked to weigh in at two hundred more pounds of solid muscle. Its hooves sparked with each beat, as if detesting the ground it walked on. Only the reflecting moonlight from its coat showed the definition of the huge beast, giving rise to the black silk leg of its elven rider.
Clad from the waist down in black, the elf almost completely blended in with his animal. Above the waist, he almost blended in with the night sky. His shirt was a starscape of twinkling lights, punctuated by his hands and head sticking out at the appropriate places. His long black hair wafted gently in the breeze and concealed his face from sight through the ward. It hung loose, well past his shoulders, so if Shrank was correct about the haircut thing, this elf ranked very high in the Winter Court hierarchy.
Next to him on his right sat his opposite, or maybe opposition was a better word. The Seelie elf rode a white stallion of equal measure and it nearly glowed in the moonlight next to the midnight black steed. The elf on top was dressed in the style of his people, but in a darker aspect. His legs hugged the horse with the dark forest browns of tree trunks. His chest was the deep greens of the rain forest while his arms showed highlights of the blooms of forbidden flowers and fruits found only in the deepest jungles, promising exotic beauty, untold sweetness, and incredible danger. His hair, white to the point of translucence, fell forward to obscure his face in the moonlight, too.
Together the two of them were an imposing sight just for their clothing alone.
“Those are Royal Emissaries!” sputtered Marchand, standing from the table in shock. He’d been remarkably quiet tonight, neither offering congratulations nor asking too many questions. I wanted to ask if he had a car here I could kill for him, but I resisted. Barely. I really didn’t like him.
“Yes,” murmured Bishop. “Yes, they are. What’s going on here, Seth?”
“I don’t know for sure,” I said, “but we’re gonna find out really soon. Martin, you may want to pull the Castle up. Might be a good idea to have a little fire in our eyes when they get here.”
“Yeah, I agree,” Gordon said calmly. The first time we watched him pull the Castle up, he took three seconds to do it, slowly working through each level methodically powering it up until the fortifications took form and energy flowed correctly. Marty was amazingly fast this time. Like between the beats of running horses fast. And there wasn’t the slightest wave out of place either. Even the moat was in place, an angry red river of power daring anything to try going over it.
“Damn, Marty, who are you trying to impress?” I whispered, chuckling, knowing that both Gordon and Felix heard me. They’d be impressed, and they’d pass that compliment along to him, too.
A pair of elves followed the first two. This couple, like the first, were in opposition, Seelie and Unseelie, but female. The Unseelie was clad in a silver gown that reflected the moonlight beautifully and contrasted with the coat of her gray mare that seemed to draw the light in instead. Her hair, long and black, seemed to flow forward and engulf her face. Her Seelie counterpart rode a roan mare and wore a dress of deep green with living flowers of every color as garland around her waist and bosom. Her red, curly hair was laced with honeysuckle vines but it, too, fell forward and hid her face from view in the wards.
Another pair of elves cantered through the gate, appearing from nowhere in the gloom, followed by another pair of near duplicates. This four showed some impatience, cantering forward, almost galloping to the outside of their charges. These elves were males, all showing their faces and bearing the wary demeanor of defenders. Their only obvious weapons were small daggers at their waists, but somehow I doubted those were their only options. And these horses didn’t like having to follow the man’s pace.
The last through the gate was a wagon drawn by two draught horses of huge proportions, both chestnut brown. The wagon was made of a very light colored wood that appeared completely unmarred by time or travel. Two elves sat ramrod straight holding the reins together in the seat, mirroring each other exactly. In the back of the wagon sat a huge cage. Just a barred cage of the kind you’d expect to see in a zoo with a lion or a tiger inside. It was large enough to fit a man inside, plenty large enough, and it made me exceptionally nervous. The cage held a strong magic in it, but I couldn’t sense what through the wards.
The gatekeeper peered back into the gloom to see if any more elves would pop into existence as the train slowly rambled up the road. Satisfied that no more would show, he nervously hefted the rifle to his shoulder and pushed the gate closed.
Marty coalesced in front of us as we watched the parade of elves progress up the road. “When the first elf showed up, he requested an audience with ‘The High Lord Daybreak, Liege Killer, the son of Robert McClure and brother to Ehran.’ We aren’t exactly sure what to make of that request.”
“Yeah, I suppose that’s me,” I projected out into the wards. “I don’t know what to make of it either. What’s a ‘High Lord Daybreak’?”
“Sounds like a name to me,” Dad muttered beside me. There were a few muttered agreements around the table.
“But they’re attributing it to me, it would seem,” I said.
The riders that Marty sent from the stables had finally met with the entourage and were turning around on the road to lead them. The lead rider adjusted his horse’s gallop to match the herald elf’s horse’s canter. That cut a significant amount of time from their trip to the Castle.
Everyone at the table got up and started for the front door, except Dad and us. Dad and I kept eating.
“Aren’t you coming?” asked Gordon impatiently.
I grimaced. “I’m pretty sure I shouldn’t be there waiting on them. But y’all probably should, I don’t know. Their whole arrogance thing gets to me.”
“They should wait for you, yes,” Dad agreed. “If what you think has happened is right, and I think you’re right. How things change in a day.” He shook his head in a daze.
“A day?” Kieran asked quietly.
“Ten months for me, but not even a day for him,” I said, sighing. The frustration of having too much to do in too little time. “Dad, fill Kieran in on what happened from when you got pulled into the fight. I’m going to get the Ferrin’s out front. Mike was a huge part of this and Ian deserves to see it. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
Zeroing in on Ferrin via the Castle wards, I jumped directly to the chair next to the sleeping Ian. He was restless because Marty was
poking him, buzzing the room in the ward. It would have been a lot louder but the room had dampeners throughout to block outside influence.
“Ee-yon,” I called in a light singsong. “Ee-yon.” Okay, now Mike’s ‘Yonnie’ made more sense to me. He cracked his eyes briefly at me and rolled over in the chair. Seconds later, his head snapped over and he catapulted out of the chair, his arms around my neck.
“Seth!” he yelled in my ear. “When did you get back? Are you all right? Did you win? Where’s Mike?” From a dead sleep to hyper. And I wasn’t that much older than he was, but I could not do that.
“Well,” I drawled the word, letting the Georgia come out. “About twenty minutes ago, yeah, yeah, but had some really weird stuff happen because of it, and he’s down the hall arguing with a doctor.” Ian looked at me like I was the crazy one. “What? I answered them just like you asked them.” Appear innocent. I have a new motto.
“C’mon,” I said, waving my hand out and standing. “Let’s go find Mike and go downstairs. Y’all need to see what he helped get me into. It’s a best behavior big deal, okay? You’ve got to do what Mike tells you and not make a fuss. There are a lot of important people around tonight.” We walked down the hall to the common room and were greeted by shouting.
“If we get an All Hands Out, I’ll carry your sorry ass out myself!” yelled the doctor to Ferrin, clad only in a loose fitting nightshirt that tied on the side. “Till then carry your sorry ass…”
I cleared my throat loudly, figuring that throwing a flash-bang between them might start a fistfight. “Doctor,” I said calmly and making an assumption based solely on his willingness to argue with a patient. “The Castle was brought up because we have visiting dignitaries. Mr. Ferrin played a pivotal part in making that happen and deserves to be there and in a place of honor. I’ll bring him back in one piece and without any new holes.”
Then I wrapped the three of us in portals and took us away to Ferrin’s room. “You have about a minute to dress, dude,” I said, pointing to the toga-like shirt he had on and snickering. “You’re about the see some Elven High Lords and Ladies come marching up on parade.”
“Whot?” Ferrin said, staring dumbly at me. He’d barely had time to recognize I was there, much less stole him away from the doctor.
“Not kidding, fifty seconds,” I said, still holding Ian’s hand. “You’re only about twenty minutes behind everybody else. We’re all in the dark about a lot of things and that includes me. Somehow or ‘nother I got tied up into Faery politics when I killed MacNamara. And I don’t think it’s gonna be simple to abdicate. C’mon, hurry up.”
“I don’t know what to wear for this!” he whined.
“It’s work, idn’t?” Ian asked me.
“Why not?” I said. “Look at what I’m wearing.”
He grabbed a leather jacket, fairly new, from the closet and went the dresser for jeans and a tee shirt. I went ahead and opened a full portal to the dining room, angled away from Ferrin while he dressed.
“We’ll be downstairs,” I told him. “I’ll close this when you come through, okay?”
He grunted at me while continuing to dress. We stepped through to another grunting party. “What’s going on?” I was getting lots of practice in the falsetto range today. “Who am I gonna have to separate?”
“Our father is insufferable,” Kieran snarled at me, cutting his eyes back at Dad, who sat with his arms across his chest glaring at me.
“What’s going on?” I asked again, getting very impatient. Checking the progress of the parade, I had less than ninety seconds to get the Ferrins out there and me back inside. “Mike, c’mon!” I yelled back through the hole.
“All he’ll tell us is that he punched an elf then you filled him with arrows,” Kieran answered scornfully. “Nothing after, regardless of what I say.”
I closed my eyes, shaking my head. “What part of ‘you’re gonna have to trust me’ don’t you understand?” I asked my father. He started to say something but I stopped him. “Aink! Not now.”
Ferrin stepped through the portal finally, limping slightly. I rushed out the door with Ian, through the hall and out the front with Mike hobbling quickly behind us. Once on the steps, I realized reorganization would be necessary. Certain people felt too highly of themselves. Specifically, Marchand and his flunky thought they outranked Felix, Gordon, and Bishop. There was just no way he was going to stand on the same step with me when he’d disappeared for the last three days. Show up when everything is done to claim the prize? I don’t think so.
Leaving Ian at the top with Mike a few hobbles behind, I stepped down and in front of Marchand, shaking my head. “I don’t think so,” I said to him. “You had no part in this and I don’t like you.” His eyes got really big with fear as he started to object. I sent him to the bottom of the stepped receiving line. He’s lucky he didn’t end up at a convenience store in Murfreesboro, Tennessee. “Felix and Gordon are here then Bishop and his entourage. On the other side, I want Mike and Ian, followed by Harris and his entourage. Leave the center for my family. Everybody, please remember that this is a diplomatic Elven envoy under a flag of truce in an unprecedented situation. None of us know what is going on or how to act, including them. Ian, that means I may not be talking very nicely to these people. Nothing is going to happen here, so don’t worry about anything and do what Mike says. Marty, did you catch that?” He buzzed me through the wards. “Be back in a minute, then.” Checking on the elves as I headed back inside, I could see we only had a couple of minutes before they arrived here.
“Now, what’s your problem?” I snapped at Dad as I walked in the Dining Room again.
“There are some things that cannot be said,” he answered gruffly.
“Oh,” I said, his problem dawning on me. I sealed the room against eavesdroppers. “Well, you screwed up there, Dad. You did something to me and didn’t tell me about it. Several things, actually.” I shook my head in aggravation and turned to Kieran. “The only way I was able to defeat MacNamara was to detach him from his source of power: the fountain. But the fountain is truly massive. I could no more contain it alone than the Rat Bastard could. He let it slip that it required a land to control. He didn’t know that I just happened to have one handy…”
“The Pacthome,” muttered Peter. Dad’s head snapped around to Peter. His ages old secret was spoken by an outsider. I’m sure it was disturbing to him.
“Yep,” I answered, watching Dad. “Here’s where it gets a little freaky…” I sat at the table opposite them and recounted the story with added details. Outside the elves were arriving at the front doors with the harlequin taking the point. The other elves paired off as they arrived, following the curve of the drive and sat stoically waiting.
“You laid a geas on a million brownies?” Kieran asked in amazement.
“I hope so,” I said, a little nervous. “Otherwise, they’ll be dead when I go back.”
Kieran shook his head and mouthed, “Wow.” Dad nodded at him while I looked between them, confused.
“Why can’t I see you?” Dad asked quietly.
“It has to do with the kind of magic that Kieran is teaching me,” I answered calmly. “It seems to sink in at a different level than all the other magic and it took my aura with it. It’s the same with Peter and Ethan. I can show you if you like, but you should know I’ve, uh, … grown.”
“Show me,” he said, adding, “Please.”
I pushed on my aura for him, holding it out for him to see for as long as he seemed comfortable. He didn’t react with alarm and shock like everyone else I’d shown my aura to, but he did seem a little awed and quite pleased.
“You have a Pact?” he murmured.
“Kieran’s,” I said. “Too long a story for right now.”
“Who is Kieran?”
I pointed to him and Dad turned to Kieran with raised eyebrows.
“Part of that long story, Father,” Kieran said with a small smile.
“How long shou
ld I make them wait?” I asked, noticing the parade had turned into a statue contest between humans and elves.
“Depending on what you’re trying to accomplish, hours,” Dad said.
“Oh, forget that! I’m not leaving our people on the stoop for that long,” I said, raising from the table. “They can play by my rules, then.”
Chapter 62
We took off for the front door in a V-formation with Dad and Peter on my left and Kieran and Ethan on my right. In the hall, we heard music beginning outside. As we stepped out, the music came to a brash crescendo announcing my arrival. I snickered. Definitely needed sleep, but that just added to the incongruity of the situation. Marty was playing some totally ostentatious music while most of us really needed baths. We were seriously grungy. I was playing diplomat to eight high-ranking elves in finery I couldn’t even guess the cost of and didn’t even know what to say to them. I needed to be pissy and here I was snickering.
I stepped down to the second step while the others stayed on top looking dangerous and imperious. The harlequin slid off his mount, keeping his standard perfectly vertical, and walked to the edge of the moat.
“We seek audience with Daybreak, Liege-Killer and holder of the Fountain, High Lord of Faery, known commonly as Seth McClure, son of Robert and brother to Ehran, at the behest of Her Majesties, the Queens of Faery,” he said, in English in one long breath while bowing slowly at the waist until he was perpendicular to the ground. “We bid you greetings, Lord Daybreak.”
I managed to control the snickering. That did answer a few questions. I needed to play their game a little, though, and the truce flag needed answering. Without a word, I took the steps to the moat slowly, then had the Stone lift me up and over, holding me aloft, near the top of the harlequin’s billowing standard. I studied the truce flag a moment, then drifted down to their representation of my flag and studied it for a moment, then drifted slowly back to the ground a few feet away. Looking at him this close and in person, I realized his clothing wasn’t black and white, but black and silver and it shimmered all over in the moonlight.
