The Glass Mountain (Faerie Book 2)

by Jenna Grey

  The Glass Mountain

  Book Two of the Faerie series

  Jenna Grey

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Text and cover image copyright 2015 by Jenna Grey. All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

  Contains some strong language, moderate violence, and explicit sexual content.

  *****

  Other Books by this author.

  The Tamarei series:

  Tamarei, Book One: Coming of Age; Tamarei, Book Two: Dark Gods; Tamarei, Book Three: Caranthus; Tamarei, Book Four: Feast of Fools; Tamarei, Book Five: Avenging Angel; Tamarei, Book Six: Twilight of the Gods; Book Seven: Fallen Angel; The Sorcerer’s Tale; The Guardian of the Gate; Blood Rites.

  Encounters:

  Night Caller

  Building Bridges

  The Fortunata series:

  Fortunata, Book One: The Lightning Struck Tower; Fortunata, Book Two: Deus Ex Machina; Book Three: Lord of Misrule.

  Miscellaneous:

  The Whisperer

  A letter from Desade

  Website: www.jennagrey.co.uk

  Email: admin@jennagrey.co.uk

  Twitter: Talisman_Queen

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  About the Author

  Chapter One

  Lily opened her eyes and found herself staring at a wintry sky, the dirty grey clouds, rain heavy and threatening. She sat up, disoriented, her mind as clouded as the sky, unable to think for a moment where she was, or what had happened to her. All around her was a low, damp mist that covered the ground in a blanket so dense that she could see no further than the length of an outstretched hand. She looked around, trying to gather her wits and work out where she was, what had happened to her, but she could see nothing through the murky cloud.

  Connor.

  They had been standing side by side, their hands clasped together in desperate fear, when the world disappeared. Lily scanned the ground around her, searching for him, but all she could see through the clinging mist were the broken shapes of jagged rocks and tussocks of scraggy grass.

  “Connor?” she called. Her voice sounded so thin and reedy, as if somehow the mist around her was sapping all of its strength.

  He had to be close by... unless he was... no, that was one thought she wouldn’t entertain. She just wished she could think more clearly, but there was a pounding in her head that sounded like the beat of a thousand war drums and it blotted out all thought.

  She called again.

  Still no answer. She panicked for a moment, because she knew that he had been right next to her when... when what? Her mind was terrifyingly blank. She knew that something had happened, but she had no idea what.

  The Black King. Yes, she remembered him. How could she forget the King of the Djinn, the monster that had kidnapped her little brother and sister, had murdered and tortured people she cared about, had forced her to run in fear for her life, hunted by the police for a murder and for a kidnapping that she and Connor didn’t commit. The blank spots in her memory began to fill in, like letters fitting into a crossword puzzle. She only wished she could remember what the clues were.

  The image flashed into her mind of a vast army of Djinn, walking towards her across the rugged Cornish landscape; an army of Shadow People and at their head was the Black King, this time in human guise. She had watched his deceptively regal and handsome form walking towards her, seen the smile of triumph on his face and known that she and Connor were dead.

  “Checkmate,” he had said, and it should have been game over. Yet here she was, alive and unharmed – just very cold and soggy. She only prayed that Connor could say the same.

  “Connor?” Her voice was desperate this time, a plaintive wail.

  Still nothing.

  She stood up on wobble legs and looked around again, desperately hoping to see sign of him, but the heavy mist seemed to cloak the whole world.

  And then she saw the tiny pin points of brilliant light blinking in and out of the ever growing mist. She squinted as they moved closer, their tiny forms hovering at shoulder height, bright little beacons of hope in that dreadful unending greyness.

  Will o’ the wisps.

  Lily let out a long sigh of relief, her whole body sagging as the pin-point stars zipped towards her with eye-popping speed. These tiny fey had guided her and Connor through the marshlands to safety, just a day or so ago... or perhaps that was a life time ago. They would be able to take her to Connor.

  “I’m so glad to see you, little friends. Please, can you help me find Connor? Is he all right?” she begged.

  The minuscule creature moved closer to Lily and hovered just in front of her face. She could make out its diminutive features, barely larger than her little fingertip. The tiny form seemed to vibrate in the air, excited, and Lily followed the little fey as it flitted in front of her, keeping close, so that Lily didn’t lose her in the grey blanket that covered the whole world like a pall. The other wisps flittered around her, making the tiniest of chirping noises, speech to them, but more like the twitter of birds to Lily’s ears. She could sense their thoughts, though, flashes that moved as fast as they did, bright and shiny sparks that fizzed and popped in their heads like fireworks.

  And then she saw the dark outline of a shape on the ground, and she gave a sob of relief. She ran to Connor and knelt down beside him. He was curled in a foetal ball, covered in a fine mist of dew that glittered on the bare skin of his arms and legs like tiny diamonds. He was still only wearing that stupid Superman vest over baggy khaki shorts, borrowed clothing that barely fitted him. It was soaking wet and clung to his lean form like a second skin. He looked unharmed, but he was still out cold and Lily was suddenly afraid. She couldn’t see him breathing and he wasn’t shivering. That was bad, wasn’t it? Surely he should be shivering? Lily was shaking like a leaf, her teeth chattering wildly. She bent forwards, and as she got closer she could see that he was breathing, slowly and evenly, though it seemed impossibly shallow.

  “Connor, wake up.”

  Lily shook him gently and still he didn’t move.

  She grabbed the front of his vest, surprised at how heavy he was, and shook him as hard as she could, the way a dog plays with its favourite toy, but he just lay limp in her arms like a rag doll.

  After several fairly vicious shakes and slaps, he finally began to stir. He tried to sit up, disoriented, trying to focus, groaning and holding his head.

  “Lily?” he asked. Then when he saw it was her, he threw his arms around her and hugged her just a little too tightly, crushing the air from her lungs. He was laughing and crying at the same time.

  “Air, I need air,” Lily said, laughing with relief. “The will o’ the wisps helped me find you. Oh God, are you all right? I thought you were dead. I thought we were both dead.”

  She pulled back slightly and brushed the tears from his cheeks. He was certainly shivering now, violent lurches of his shoulders, clutching his arms around
himself and hunching against it.

  “It’s so cold....” Lily tried to rub his arms to warm him, but her hands were like ice as well.

  Neither of them had been dressed to spend the night out in open country; it was a miracle they hadn’t died from hypothermia ‒ a human would certainly have perished, but they were fey, and the fey were a tough breed.

  Connor’s dark spikes of hair, which usually looked as if they had had an argument with his head and were trying to escape, were plastered down to his forehead, his face drawn and pale, his eyes just a little too wide.

  “I thought I’d lost you,” he said, his voice choked with tears. Lily gazed into his face, and smiled.

  “Lily and Connor together forever,” she said, repeating something that Connor had said to her a long time ago in what felt like another life time. He caressed her face tenderly and pressed a kiss to her lips, which carried on for so long that Lily’s breath had all but left her lungs by the time it ended. She looked up into his gentle eyes and all of the misery she felt was washed away by the overwhelming love she saw there.

  “It’s all going to be all right, whatever happens, I’ll take care of you, I promise.”

  And Lily knew that was the truth; Connor would give his life for her, but then, Lily would give hers for him. They stayed wrapped in each other’s arms for some minutes, trying to use their body heat to warm themselves. Connor suddenly gave a bright laugh.

  “What?” Lily asked.

  He lifted his hand, palm up, and called on his magic. Almost instantaneously a bright ball of fire blossomed on his hand. He left it drift into the air, so that it hovered just a few feet from the ground in front of them, a perfect globe of glorious heat. Lily could feel the warmth emanating from it the second it left his palm, and she put her hands up to it, rubbing them to warm them.

  “Duh,” he said, still laughing.

  “Well, I didn’t think of it either. We’re both in shock,” Lily said, moving a little closer to the glorious, glowing heat. “Oh, that is so good,” she said, giving a sigh of utter bliss. The will o’ the wisps clustered around it, warming themselves too.

  “I won’t be able to keep it going for long,” Connor said. “Make the most of it.”

  And she did.

  Connor could only maintain the magic for a few minutes. He was as tired as she was, and they were both starving. Lily’s stomach was just a knotted ball of cramped misery, and it felt as if she hadn’t eaten in several years. She even felt thinner. She tried to think of when she had eaten last. It must have been when they were in the house of the Korrigan, Virginia. Just the thought of that evil creature brought bile to Lily’s throat. She had the sudden flash of a memory ‒ a broken body on a bed, one of Virginia’s many victims; a poor hapless soul that she had lured to her domain and tortured to death in the most sadistic and perverted ways possible. The sight of those butchered bodies would stay with Lily for many years to come.

  “Stop thinking about her. She’s dead, and we’re alive. If we want to stay that way we have to put the past behind us.” His voice was soft, a reassurance rather than a reprimand.

  “But why are we still alive?” Lily asked, trying to stand, but almost toppling. Connor eased her down again, and she didn’t resist.

  “I have no idea,” he said.

  “I thought we’d had it. The last thing I remember is seeing the Black King and his army marching towards us, him gloating over his victory, and then I passed out. What do you remember?”

  Connor just stared at her for a moment, the bright green of his eyes cutting into her... no not into her, through her. Whatever Connor was seeing was not from the here and now.

  “I can remember most of it, but... some of it’s still vague. It’s just as you said; the last thing I remember is the Black King coming towards us, and then I passed out as well.”

  It just didn’t make sense. The Black King had spent the last few weeks terrorising Connor and Lily, putting them through hell, and vowing to destroy them. Then, when he had them at his mercy he’d left them unharmed.

  “Why didn’t he kill us?” Connor and Lily both asked together.

  “You can bet that whatever his reason, it wasn’t for our benefit,” Connor said. He seemed a little more like himself now, and managed to stand, stretching his stiff limbs. “Uh, I’m all slimy. I feel like a slug,” he said, pulling the sopping fabric away from his chest. Lily’s own clothes were soaking wet from the damp air, soggy rags that clung to her like a second skin. At least she had some spares in her holdall.

  Her holdall.

  She looked around for it, and realised it was gone.

  “Shit,” she said. “The holdall!”

  Lily felt a terrible clawing emptiness in her stomach and it wasn’t just lack of food. Lily’s adopted mother, Maggie, had left Lily her grimoire, her witch’s Book of Shadows, before she died, and Lily treasured it above all else. It wasn’t fey magic, but Lily could use the spells in it to create potions and charms, and more importantly it was the only thing of her mother’s she had left. She had to get the holdall back. Lily looked across to where the will o’ the wisps still hovered, bright little stars, winking in and out of existence as the mist shrouded them.

  “The will o’ the wisps brought me to you, they might be able to help us find the grimoire.” She turned to the nearest. “Can you?” she asked. There was a frantic bobbing in the air that left a pattern of bright light, cutting through the mist, accompanied by an equally frantic twitter.

  “I think that was a ‘yes’,” Connor said.

  Then he fell uncomfortably silent.

  Lily turned to Connor and saw that he was frowning, his body rigid, his head cocked to one side as if he was listening for something.

  “What is it?” Lily asked, but Connor put up his hand to silence her, and reinforced the order with a finger to his lips. Lily strained to see if she could hear what he was hearing... and she did. It was the sound of padding feet, paws snapping dry twigs and crackling leaves. It was faint, and no human would have heard it.

  The sounds were coming nearer, and other sounds were overlaying the cautious, padding paws now. The sound of muted growls and laboured breathing, a pant of hot breath… and a foetid smell like rotting meat.

  There was a sudden flash of a dark form lunging upwards into the air, a snarl and a snapping of jaws. Lily watched in horror as the will o’ the wisp blinked out of existence, trapped in the jaws of the massive black dog that had appeared from nowhere. The shadow dog rolled in the air, turning a somersault and landing on all fours again, turning to growl at Lily and Connor, its head hunched between its shoulders, hackles raised, muzzle down, ready to leap at them. The will o’ the wisps scattered, their bright little forms flashing away with the speed of light.

  From the mist more dark shapes appeared: Djinn, six of them, snarling hell hounds that were moving ever closer. Their misty shadow forms seemed to merge with the mist, growing more substantial one moment and tantalisingly amorphous the next.

  Lily watched in numb horror as the dogs began to change, their bodies elongating, their torsos stretching outwards, paws turning into hands and feet, muzzles retracting. The crouching forms pulled themselves upright, straightening, a bizarre parody of the evolution of man, until they became fully humanoid. The creatures ranged in front of them, still snarling, fangs bared, trying to intimidate them; they slunk backwards and forwards, not taking their eyes from the two fey.

  Connor took up a battle stance, and Lily moved closer to him, fear trembling through her as the Djinn pressed ever nearer.

  Chapter Two

  “They can’t touch us,” Connor said. “They’re just trying to scare us.”

  “Guess what?” Lily said, pressing closer to Connor. “They’re succeeding,”

  “What do you want?” Connor demanded.

  One of the creatures stepped forwards and Lily could hardly bear to look into its terrible face. These creatures did look human after a fashion, but their forms we
re only semi-solid, half real and half smoke and illusion, Shadow People that were in neither this reality or Otherworld; they came from their own dark realm that existed alongside the other realms, touching them only in places, where the veil between them was thinnest.

  “We have a message for you from our King,” it said. Its voice was a mirror of its form, a strange half whispered sound, that hung on the air like vapour.

  “Then tell it and go,” Connor ordered. There was no fear in his voice, even though he was still trembling. Lily knew that it was cold, not fear that made his limbs rattle. She could feel his hidden terror, but he was keeping it buried inside, forcing himself not to acknowledge it.

  There was a muted laugh from the creature, which turned to a malevolent grin, showing a flash of fangs.

  “A question hangs on your lips,” the creature said. “My message is your answer.”

  Lily tossed a glance at Connor. He didn’t look as if he was going to say anything, so Lily did.

  “Why aren’t we dead?” she asked.

  There was a real laugh this time; it chilled Lily to the bone.

  “Because my master wanted you to see the fulfilment of his dreams and ambitions. The final fall of mankind.” The creature raised his arms, turning on the spot, and gazing around at the mist shrouded land, as if claiming all he surveyed. “Behold my master’s victory!”

  Lily felt her knees give way and it was only Connor’s arm around her waist that stopped her from hitting the ground. She had seen the Black King’s plans for mankind in a vision. She had witnessed first hand the whole world burning as one great inferno, had seen all of mankind reduced to piles of ash, the sky itself alight. The world she had seen had been on fire, burning buildings that spewed flames into the crimson-gold sky. Great billows of smoke poured upwards from a thousand raging infernos. She had stood amidst the skeletons of twisted metal, beneath the shadows of mangled concrete that had once been great buildings ‒ a vast modern city laid to waste. Lily had felt the heat from the fires scorching her face, seen the molten streams of lava pouring over the rubble of what had once been buildings, cars... and God help her... people. She had felt every second of it, and it had haunted her dreams ever since.