“The black one?” she asked, quietly.
“Ebony. Yes, please,” he crossed a foot over his knee and watched the chest intently.
She rolled her eyes at the correction.
Shadow only.
Nothing happened. Nothing at all.
Shadow. To that chest!
It's heavy.
Get out of my head. I'm trying to concentrate.
She glanced at the King, his eyes had narrowed but she could no longer hear him. With a half-smile she turned her attention back to the small chest as a smoky tendril wove across the room.
Her shadow met the chest, pressing gently against it, feeling its resistance.
Come on, move!
It slid from the table and landed with a thud on the floor. Charlotte clicked her tongue.
“I do hope it isn't damaged,” Markus drawled.
Cover it. Pick it up. Gently.
A solid black mass rose from behind the sofa.
And to me. Slowly. Gently.
As Dane's tray, had done two nights before, the mass moved slowly in the direction she commanded.
Good. Slowly. Don't drop it. Don't crush it.
“You are a frighteningly fast learner, Charlotte,” Markus exclaimed as she handed him the chest. “You combined an untested skill with keeping me out of your mind perfectly.”
She returned to her seat on the sofa opposite and said quietly, “Thank you. You've been a great help, Markus.”
He nodded once and turned a small silver nob on the front of the chest. The lid opened silently and she saw light glint in Markus' eyes from something shiny within. Setting the chest to one side, he said, “This is for you. A parting gift.” He moved around the table, stood before her and presented a dagger.
Charlotte took it, gingerly.
Its highly polished, double edged blade glittered in the light that streamed through the windows. The guard was gold and inlaid with tiny diamonds. Its handle was bound in a comfortable, light mauve, leather laced with tiny amethysts and twisted golden wire, the pommel was capped with a large amethyst.
“Markus I can't accept this,” she whispered shaking her head as she took in the intricate details.
“I insist. It's been an honor to work with you Charlotte. You're destined for both great and terrible things. Given the threat we face, the least any of us can do is ensure you're suitably prepared and protected. This blade has been in my family for an extremely long time and has slain many Daeva. It will serve you well.” He handed her a small leather sheath that matched that which bound the handle. “It's wyvern. Very comfortable to hold, it won't callous your skin. The sheath will attach to a belt comfortably, its size shouldn't impede movement. The blade is razor sharp, so, please be very careful in training.”
“Thank you. For everything, Markus.” She stood and hugged him, a lump forming in her throat.
He's as hard to work out as Dane is.
She felt a hand smooth her hair. “Callan is waiting for you outside. I'll see you at lunch.”
Nodding, she straightened, stepped away and smiled before heading for the door.
Callan was leaning on the wall opposite the door wearing black trousers, t shirt and trainers.
“Why are you dressed like that?” she asked.
“Training. You have a matching set. You need to change,” he offered a hand and took her straight to their room.
“Markus gave me this,” she said, handing him the dagger and walking to the bed where her new training clothes were neatly folded.
Callan carefully unsheathed it and turned the blade over in his hands.
“I tried to decline it but he insisted I take it as a parting gift,” she explained, shrugging into the tight top.
“It's beautifully crafted. It bears a resemblance to my sword.” His eyes didn't leave the dagger.
“I've never seen your sword. What's it like?” she asked, fastening her trainers.
“I'll show you later,” he smiled, kneeling at her side to attach the sheath for her dagger to her belt. “How does that feel?” He asked, sheathing the dagger.
Wiggling her hips, she assessed the foreign weight, she said, “I'll get used to it. Why the special clothes?”
“Lukas and Anton have a new challenge for you.” He didn't wait for her response, taking her hand.
They were in a forest clearing. Snow hung heavily from the branches of the trees.
“Princess,” Lukas said from behind them.
“Lukas, please just call me Charlotte,” she smiled, turning to face him.
He gave an apologetic smile. “This is Anton. My partner. He will be assisting us today.” He inclined his head to the fairy at his side.
The first of his features she noticed were his eyes. They glowed a deep violet in the dim light. He was very similar in build to Dagda, his long black hair braided tightly back. He smiled warmly and strode forwards. “Callan, it has been many months! Charlotte, an honor.” He took her hand and kissed it gently.
“And you. What new torture do you have planned for me today?” she asked, looking to Lukas.
Callan laughed and stepped away. Anton followed him.
“Today you will be combining all you've learned with my father and I while keeping Anton safe from Callan.” His eyes flicked to Anton and back to hers. “Without hurting anyone.”
“Did you bring me a dagger?”
“You have what was my grandmothers dagger at your hip. I do not wish to die by it.”
She flushed. “I…”
He bowed. “It is yours now, Charlotte. I can think of no-one else worthy of it. Callan.”
She spun to see Callan's sword materialize in his hand.
Oh shit. Okay, protect Anton, catch Lukas…
The beauty of it held her for a second. Rubies glinted along the guard and half way down the blade as flame spread from his hand to its tip. Suddenly she was looking at the sky, the wind knocked from her as Lukas swept her feet from under her with a kick.
Shit. Help.
As her power filled her she leapt to her feet, knees slightly bent, and assessed the clearing. Lukas was gone. Callan was advancing on Anton who stood his ground, a sword gripped in both hands, pointing directly at Callan, grinning.
Where is he? Find him.
She scanned the area, finding Callan's mind first and moved on.
Anton. No trace of Lukas. Find him!
A glance to Anton told her Callan was too close. Flicking a hand, she drew a line of violet flame in the snow between them. Callan paused and she resumed her search.
There. He's keeping me out. Grab him.
While she heard nothing, saw nothing, she felt the resistance of his mental defenses as her power passed over him.
Hold him. Bring him here.
As the shadow fought to hold Lukas and move him to her she glanced back to Callan. He was edging around the line she'd drawn. He was watching the flames carefully, not looking her way. Carefully, she stepped toward him. Anton saw what she was doing and growled at Callan, raising his sword to distract him. She ran, launching herself at Callan, her shoulder connecting with his solid side, landing in a heap on the snowy ground.
Oww! Heal it.
Anton moved as Callan stumbled, positioning his sword at Callan's neck.
Huffing out a short laugh she scrambled to her feet and turned back to Lukas. He'd gotten free as she'd soothed the pain in her shoulder and was about to collide with her.
Shield! I need a shield.
Lukas collided with a wall of black smoke.
Hold him down.
The shield shifted and pinned him to the floor like a net. A warm hand settled on her shoulder.
“Callan, I like her,” Anton boomed.
Glancing over her shoulder she saw Callan dusting snow from his clothes.
Let him up.
Anton offered Lukas a hand and hauled him from the ground. “You did not see that coming.”
“No. My father failed to inform me of your lat
est development,” he said, annoyed, “that was very good, Charlotte. This is how we train from now on. Tomorrow you use your dagger. We'll rotate, to prevent you from becoming dependent on any one fighting style and developing a routine defense.”
“That was brilliant,” Callan murmured, kissing her cheek.
“We should prepare for lunch. We will see you there,” Lukas bowed, glanced to Anton and disappeared.
“I will see you for training in Avalon tomorrow,” Anton smiled, inclining his head.
Charlotte looked to Callan. “Avalon? That place is real too?”
“You've lived there for months, Charlotte,” he laughed.
“The palace?” she gawked at him. “Why didn't you explain that one to me?”
“It wasn't important,” he shrugged.
“What did I say? I said I needed to know everything. That is important.”
Callan rolled his eyes. “Okay, yes Avalon is the Seelie kingdom. I am the Crown Prince of Avalon, you a Princess. Our Children are fourth and fifth in line to the throne of the mythical kingdom of Arthurian legend. Is that better?”
“Don't take that tone with me,” she laughed. “Avalon. Honestly this doesn't get any less ridiculous with time, does it?”
“Nope. Come on, we need to shower and dress for lunch.”
“I decided on a more informal gathering today,” Markus announced as Dursek escorted them into a small dining room. “Please, sit.”
Before they could take a step, thick shadow filled the room. Callan pushed Charlotte behind him, flame licking up his arms. Her own shadow-fire leapt to hers and she stepped around him. Lukas appeared at her other side. Anton behind her. She looked to Markus a few feet in front of her, his face was a mask of fury.
Dane stepped forward as his shadow faded away, “We have to leave. Father, the Wyverns. Double the guard.”
Markus nodded once and was gone.
“Where?” Callan asked.
“Long Meg. Dagda's waiting.”
Chapter 15
They arrived in the open field, a farm visible to her right. Dane approached with Dagda.
“What the fuck is this?” Callan bellowed.
Charlotte flinched, she'd never heard him so angry.
“A massacre,” Dagda said, gruffly. “The farm is secure; the humans won't remember.”
Dane was paler than usual, his jaw set, a muscle ticking.
Charlotte looked around her. To her right was a pile of rubble. Dagda stepped to shield her view. Beyond him, there were standing stones. Shrugging away from Anton's grip on her shoulder she stepped from Callan's side.
Her hand covered her mouth but she couldn't look away. There were piles of rubble where monoliths once stood. She moved closer.
“Charlotte, don't…” Callan warned. She kept walking.
Drawing level with the first, she knelt. Tears brimmed in her eyes as she looked down at the young girl. No older than eighteen, her body was mapped with black tracks where her veins had been. Her eyes were wide open, her obviously once beautiful face twisted in a silent scream of agony. Golden hair fanned around her. “Why?”
“We don't know, we can only guess,” Dagda began but stopped as Callan arrived at her side.
This could have been me.
“Can you cover them? Don't just leave them like this, please,” she said in a small voice.
He hung his head and disappeared, returning seconds later with an arm full of blankets.
“Thank you, Dagda,” she said as she took one from him and covered the girl closest to them.
The smell of burnt flesh was sickening. Choking back the bile in her throat she made her way around each of the women laid naked and tortured beside the destroyed stones. Callan had joined her, silently helping to give them the smallest amount of dignity.
“Callan. What's happened here?” she asked. “I know it was him, but why?”
“They were witches,” he sighed. “Dad had them imprisoned in these stones thousands of years ago, for their crimes. It looks like he's come for their power.”
“Where's the seventh? These stones each have a body by them. Where's that one?” She pointed to the large pile of rubble behind her. “How many more are trapped?”
He shook his head but didn't answer.
“He's taken Meg with him. There were only the seven in the coven,” Dane said from behind her, “the rest were left vacant should more, prisons, be needed in future.”
“What will you do with them?” she asked, looking round at the shrouded bodies.
Callan cleared his throat.
She flinched, “Haven't they burned enough? Can't you bury them?”
“I'll see to it,” Dagda said softly, a hand on her back, “Father won't…”
Charlotte stiffened and faced him. “He won't what? Won't want to give them a dignified burial? I don't know what they did but he imprisoned them, he didn't sentence them to death.”
Who imprisons girls naked anyway?
Dagda shot a glance to Callan, then to Dane. When neither spoke, he sighed, “You're right. I'll have their bodies prepared and arrange a burial.” He bowed his head. “I'll go now.”
“Thank you,” she murmured and gave him a tight-lipped smile. He left without another word.
“I should take you home,” Callan said quietly.
“No. I'm staying with them until I've seen them properly buried. They served their punishment. They've suffered enough.” She scrubbed at her face with her hands. “What was their crime anyway?”
“Blood magic,” he said with disgust. “He didn't know if they were under the control of a warlock or working within their coven. They were caught here, using the power of the site along with the blood of a captured druid to summon Daeva. They were imprisoned, sentenced to watch over the site they'd desecrated. Dad wouldn't sentence them to death without solid evidence of them working to their own ends.”
“Was there a warlock?”
“We don't know. If there was he left and was never heard from.”
“So, they've been here all these hundreds of years, punished for a crime that may not have been their fault?”
“Yes,” he frowned.
“You know how that sounds, don't you?” she asked, sadly. “You know how that makes your people, our family, look.”
He didn't meet her gaze. “We all struggle with it, Charlotte. Dagda, me, Dane. We don't wear the crowns. We don't make the decisions.” He looked up as she took a breath to respond and held up a hand. “Please, we're different. The world is different. We face the same problem now and we'll handle it your way. You're the one with the power, we're the generation that can make the changes. Don't blame Dad for what he had to do to keep people safe.”
“He needs to see this, Callan. He should be here. He left them here to be found.”
He closed his eyes and nodded. “Dane. I'm going to find my father.”
When he was gone, Dane said, “How are you so, good? After everything?”
She couldn't speak.
My biggest fear is dying alone. Like my mum did. There aren't many deserve it. These girls didn't deserve it. Not with no proof that they did anything wrong.
He didn't respond. He simply held her hand as she watched over the bodies of the six young women and waited for Callan and Dagda to return with Taran.
Callan arrived sometime later and brought her a coat and hot drink.
“Charlotte why are you standing in this field? It's cold. You should be at home,” Taran said gently.
“No, this is where I need to be. I've covered their bodies and I'll escort them somewhere safe until their burial is arranged. Then I'll go home.”
“Burial?” He looked aghast.
“Yes, Taran. Had Dagda not said?” She shot a glance his way.
“Dad, the girls will be properly handled and buried. They served their sentences. They didn't deserve this.”
“Burn them,” he snapped, looking at Callan.
Shadow rippled from her as
she silently seethed. Callan placed a gentle hand on her arm.
“They're already burned father. The warlock saw to that. They've suffered enough,” Dagda's voice grew in strength as he countered the King.
“They're criminals and will have no such luxury,” Taran said coolly.
Charlotte sent her shadow toward the girl closest and ripped the blanket from her body. “She's seen enough fire, Taran.”
He looked away and said, “Charlotte, I understand that…”
She didn't let him finish. “What would you have done with me? Would you have had Callan burn me if you ever found my body?”
Taran looked horrified. “They were using blood magic, Charlotte.”
“Under whose orders? Their mothers'? Some warlocks'? Do you know?”
He closed his eyes and sighed. “Very well. Dagda, bury them here.”
“Their bodies need to be cleaned. They need clothing.” She refused to back down.
Taran nodded. “I'll send someone. Dagda, this is your responsibility.”
Taran disappeared and Dagda let out a heavy breath, his hulking shoulders sagging.
“I'm sorry, Dagda but I can't,” she began.
He stopped her, “You're right, Charlotte. Don't apologise.”
As Callan, Dagda and Dane prepared the mass grave, Anton and Lukas sat with Charlotte.
“That was very brave of you, to stand up to the King like that,” Anton said quietly.
She shrugged, “He isn't the King to me, he's family and I'll always tell them when they're wrong.”
He put an arm around her shoulders and she leaned into his warmth. “Thank you both for staying with me. I know you're busy, Lukas.”
“Klara is searching with the druids. There is little for me to do. I'm of more use here.”
“I haven't met Klara yet, what's she like?”
“Quiet,” Anton said, simply.
Lukas added, “There is a meeting in a few days, you'll meet her and the druids we could spare from Houska then.”
“Charlotte, would you rather we took you home? You're cold. We'll be sure to give them a respectful burial,” Anton offered.
“No. I'm staying until they're safely buried. Thanks though.”
Three fae women appeared by the grave. They exchanged a few short words with Dagda and approached the covered bodies. Charlotte looked away as they set to work cleaning and shrouding them.
Riftkeepers: Pursuit Page 11
