by Rhavensfyre
“You are right about one thing though. I’m not from here, not originally,” Shyann continued, grinning mischievously. She still had her secrets and seemed intent on keeping them. “In a way, neither is Maeve, but that is her tale to tell. I wouldn’t suggest pushing it though. Even I am not privy to all of her secrets. She is a good person, despite her stubborn ways. We’ve learned to agree to disagree on how some matters should be handled.”
Alex swung her head around to face Shyann. Something about the way Shyann defended Maeve made Alex wonder if she didn’t quite share her sentiments. Was she offering to help? If she was, it was certainly worth exploring further.
“Why are you here, Shyann?” Alex asked gruffly. “Did she send you in to try and change my mind?”
“No, Alex, I think getting you to change your mind is about as easy as convincing the sun to rise in the west.”
“Hmmpff.” Alex launched herself away from window to stand in front of the dresser mirror. She scowled at her reflection. It was fitting; she was just as mad at herself as everyone else right now. The laceration above her eyebrow had been cleaned and dressed and was already starting to scab over and itch. The bruising around it had already faded to a pale purple color tinged with green. She pulled up her shirt, knowing she would find the same—angry bruises that were fading as quickly as her body healed.
It still hurt a bit to take in a deep breath. Bones took longer to knit together, but at least the pain didn’t steal her breath away anymore. If she turned too quickly, she could feel the bone crackle and shift beneath her skin. As long as it did that, she was forced to wait. Broken ribs were one thing; a punctured lung would delay her recovery.
“You’re healing fast,” Shyann observed, raising an inquisitive eyebrow in Alex’s direction. “Faster than even I do. How are you managing that?”
Alex shifted her scowl towards Shyann’s reflection, hoping she would get the hint and leave. It didn’t work. Shyann just leaned in the doorway and crossed her arms over her chest.
“Stubborn ass Faerie,” Alex grumbled. Trying to get rid of Shyann was as hard as picking burrs out of a horse’s mane without poking yourself. Impossible.
“You betcha.”
“I was attacked in my human form. I changed. It helped me survive my wounds,” Alex admitted, then shrugged her shoulders. It really didn’t matter anymore. Alex clenched her teeth together until her jaw popped. What she could not and would not tell Ro’s cousin was that if she hadn’t managed to change into her Mere form, she probably wouldn’t have survived the night. The sharp blade of betrayal carved deep into her heart, and unlike her physical injuries, she doubted it would ever fully heal.
“Uh, huh. Sooooo…do you have a plan for getting her back? I mean, other than rushing in and just stealing her away?” Shyann asked casually. When Alex shot her a sharp look, Shyann simply smiled, all innocence and guile, then proceeded to inspect her fingernails. Alex bit her lip to keep from laughing aloud. Rushing in and stealing Rohanna away was exactly what she had been thinking of doing.
“No, not yet. But Shyann, I can’t just sit here and wait. Without that stone around her neck, Belinda-Bellaria, whatever the hell her name is, could be holding her against her will and we’ll never know!” Her voice rose a few octaves, falling just short of outright yelling. Alex angrily tugged at her thick braid, a sure sign of just how close she was to exploding. She was beyond angry and had nothing to lash out at.
“Rohanna is gone and I can’t do a damn thing to get her back. Maeve’s reassurance that Rohanna is safe doesn’t mean a damn thing to me. I need to see for myself.”
“I understand, Alex—I really do. But Maeve is right. You have to heal first. Bellaria is extremely powerful. To go against her now would be careless.”
“And alone, let’s not forget that,” Alex muttered miserably, tugging at her braid again. As much as she hated to admit it, Shyann was right. If she tried something now she risked both her and Rohanna’s lives.
“What?” Shyann risked touching Alex, turning her around so they faced each other. “What are you talking about?”
“Last night…” Alex began, then looked down at her hands to hide the fact that she was about to choke on her words.
They were strong hands, with tendons and sinew hardened from years of hefting a hammer and shaping hard metal. Not now. Now they trembled uncontrollably and all she could do was glare at them for their failure to remain strong. Even raising her arm was an effort, but the leather bracer had to come off. She wasn’t sure why Rohanna had left it on, but she did and now Alex had to unlace the dirty leather cords with equally stiff fingers. Stubbornly, she continued to pluck at the laces until the thick leather bracer fell to the carpet and Shyann could see the delicate blue lines decorating her wrist.
“This tattoo marks my rank and position in the tribe. Until last night it was a living thing, the blessing of Epona given to me when I was tested for leadership. Now it’s nothing more than plain ink, dull and lifeless. It’s a mockery of everything I used to be, of what I was meant to do.” Alex curled her lip in disgust. “Last night I went to the leader of my tribe, to beg assistance from the herd about Rohanna and to tell them about Belinda. Rather than stand behind me, they denied my request. My own people attacked me, Shyann! I am no longer part of them.”
Alex choked on her grief, then swallowed the pain so she could continue. Living apart from her people was a vastly different thing than being banished. She felt hollowed out inside, like an old oak tree whose heart had been eaten away by time.
“When I go against Bellaria I will be going alone. I have lost everything else. I will not lose Rohanna. She is my only family now.”
“No, you are not alone, Alex.” Shyann’s playful grin fell from her face like a party mask. What Shyann revealed in its place was something harsher, more prone to violence and keen on battle than Alex had thought possible from the good-natured Fae.
Obviously, there was more to Shyann than she had let Alex see. It didn’t take much imagination to visualize this Shyann with a sword in hand and a shield on her arm. She strode across the room until the two women were almost chest-to-chest. Grasping Alex’s forearm, she spoke quietly but with a force behind her words that made what she said next more of a vow than a simple promise.
“Alex, you do not have to do this alone. If there is any way I can help you get her back, I will.”
Alex searched Shyann’s face carefully, looking for any signs of subterfuge. All of her life Alex had been taught to distrust the Greater Fae, yet here was one willing to stand with her when her own family would not. After a moment, she nodded. Alex grasped Shyann’s forearm in turn and clapped her shoulder soundly. It was a warrior’s greeting, a bond of its own given freely by two Fae, acknowledging their solidarity and willingness to fight together.
“Thank you, Shyann,” Alex said. “But, won’t Maeve be upset about this, with all her talk about prophecy?”
“Who am I to decide what prophecy requires in order for it to come to pass? Act or don’t act, what if it’s all the same? I am sure that if a prophecy requires a certain ending, it will figure out how to get there on its own. I am not bound to being an observer like Maeve. I am in my own time and my own life.” Shyann paused then, her focus travelling to some inner place before speaking again. “I think she is held to a different set of rules than the rest of us. At least for now.”
Alex shivered against the sudden cold. Whatever force spoke through Shyann bled power into the room around them, a power that disappeared when Shyann came back to herself.
“Are you okay?” Alex asked, searching for something alien behind Shyann’s eyes, then exhaled in relief. There was nothing hidden there that would suggest Shyann wasn’t herself.
“I’m fine, why?”
Alex wasn’t sure how to answer that, so she chose not to say anything at all. The strange message was obviously meant for her ears alone. Whether it was a warning or not, only time would tell.
“N
othing at all. Look, I have an idea that should work, if you are game?” Alex smiled, purposefully mimicking Shyann’s mischievous grin. “How good are you at sneaking into places you don’t belong?”
“Well now, that would be one of my specialties, and isn’t that convenient for you?”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Bellaria walked along the stone path with all the grace and airs of a Queen inspecting her personal guard. The sky had grown dark with the promise of a suitably violent storm. Ominous clouds churned above her, carrying restless air currents that funneled down to the earth to grasp at tree branches, encouraging them to sway ecstatically. The movement was hypnotic—row after row of ancient oaks all caught up in the same sacred dance.
Bellaria was immune to nature’s charm, her only concern was the energy it brought with it. She was focused on the coming ritual. Much like the mounting storm, it churned and blew through her like a cold wind, caressing her veins with its icy power.
It was the first night of the full moon and everything was ready. Her lips curled up at the corners, an invitation to a smile that harbored nothing but evil intent. Whatever emotion that passed for joy in Bellaria’s twisted soul made her heart race in anticipation.
Bellaria didn’t know what had possessed Rohanna to remove her Faerie stone, but she was perfectly happy to take advantage of the unexpected boon. The cursed thing had kept her from completely controlling Rohanna since she came back from college and she hadn’t been able to separate her from it no matter what tricks she had tried. Bellaria had assumed it was destroyed years ago, when she took care of Rohanna’s father.
How it reappeared out of the blue to hang around Rohanna’s neck was a mystery she had yet to solve, but she had her suspicions. Maeve, Rohanna’s grandmother, was a constant thorn in her side…and John’s truck had crashed on her property. The stone was never recovered from his body or the vehicle. She often wondered if the old woman had found it and returned it to Rohanna.
“Troublesome woman,” Bellaria muttered, wondering why she hadn’t put the old hag out of her misery long ago. “No matter, I have what I want now, I can take care of her at my leisure once this is done.”
Bellaria turned onto the hidden path that led to her goal. Just ahead of her lay a clearing devoid of any vegetation. Stark and sterile, the circle’s true boundaries were invisible to most, but even so, no animal or bird would voluntarily cross the woven strands holding the circle together. Thirteen forms stood waiting for her, thirteen hooded forms that turned towards her in unison when she arrived. Twelve plus another to replace Siandra, there had been no repeat of that one’s insolence since my demonstration. There was always another one eager to join, eager to lap at the leftover’s I toss to them. Pitiful.
She ignored their obeisance, the cowled heads dipping in acknowledgement of her presence. The still figure standing in the center of the circle was the only one who mattered.
A swift slicing motion opened the circle and then closed it behind her. Now that she was near enough to sense the delicate threads, she was gratified to find Rohanna bound quite nicely by her spell. Rohanna’s eyes rolled back in her head until just the whites showed as the power within her tried to free itself, her body writhed within the restraints as something greater than herself beat against the frail vessel. Bellaria had no sympathy for the pain she knew the young woman was suffering. She had laid claim to Rohanna’s magic a long time ago, considering it her own as much as the land and people around her by virtue of all the time and energy she had spent developing Rohanna’s skills. It was time for Rohanna to pay her back in full for her investment.
“It is time,” Bellaria announced.
Thirteen hoods were thrown back, revealing thirteen women who were alike in only one aspect. They were the strongest witches she could find on this side of the veil that craved power as much as she did. Other than that, they had nothing in common. Young or old, pale or olive skinned, tall or short— it didn’t matter to her. They were vessels that could hold what she craved most—power.
She felt their eyes on her, anticipating the rewards she had promised for all their years of loyalty. Bellaria sneered in derision. All of them were fools, down to the last one. Their greed had blinded them, much to Bellaria’s amusement. She was not the type to share. If they haven’t figured that out on their own by now, well, more’s the pity for them.
“Let us begin.”
***
Alex was forced to wait another night before she could go after Rohanna. Her wounds itched like hell, making sleep almost impossible, but they could only heal so fast. She tossed and turned and tried not to scratch most of the night. In the morning, she took a quick shower.
The healed scabs fell away from fresh pink skin to circle the drain and disappear. Any residual dirt and dried blood likewise found its way down the drain. She turned the water on as hot as she could stand and just stood there, head down, and let the water beat down on her shoulders until steam rolled off her skin. It felt good to be clean again.
After drying off, she stopped in front of the mirror and dropped her towel, wiping the steam from the long glass in order to inspect her torso. Grunting in satisfaction, Alex ran her fingers along ribs that were still sensitive, but no longer creaked whenever she took a deep breath.
“Soon, Ro…” Alex promised, re-wrapping her ribs with the compression bandage Shyann had scared up before throwing on a robe.
It was time to see what the day held.
Alex walked back to her bedroom and listened to the common noises the old farmhouse made, seeking comfort in their familiarity. Instead, the cadenced hum of strange voices rose and fell in the familiar rhythm of casual conversation. Maeve and Shyann were waiting for her in the kitchen, but she had no desire to join them. The forced inactivity of the last forty-eight hours was taking its toll on her temper. She was acting downright bitchy, which made her guests decision to stay while she recuperated a surprising choice.
Her people had stayed on this side of the veil to get away from all the politics and power plays that the Greater Fae seemed to rejoice in, yet somehow she had landed square in the middle of something she had very little understanding of. Belinda, or Bellaria—it didn’t matter what her name was—was a dangerous person who held no qualms about hurting Rohanna. That made Maeve and Shyann her allies, for now. That didn’t change her feelings. A lifelong distrust towards the Greater Fae could not be overcome in a couple of days. They were incidental allies; it would take time to see if they were as true as they claimed to be.
She had learned a hard lesson this week. Friends could become enemies in the blink of an eye. Just because they were on the same side now didn’t mean that Alex’s goals and their goals would remain the same. It was a shame because Alex really did like Shyann.
Alex grimaced at the painful reminder. Friends is one thing, but family? When family turns on you, there is no hiding from that pain.
She was running blind into the future. Maeve believed that her fate had already been settled by some ancient prophecy and that she couldn’t just walk away. Belinda had made it very clear that her presence was not welcome—suggesting that she should just walk away.
Belinda’s warning was obvious; there was no subtlety there. Maeve was an unknown, her reasons were her own and even Shyann questioned some of her decisions. While Belinda’s option seemed the safer one for her and the Mere tribe, she found she simply couldn’t do it. Something had been set in motion the minute she met Rohanna, and it was still running its course. Alex felt like she had been cast into the water by something more powerful than she was and told to swim against the rushing current the best she could. That there were rocks hidden beneath the rolling surface was never mentioned, yet that was the most dangerous part…what was unseen and hidden until it crashed into you and left you bleeding.
The urge to scream in frustration rose up in her throat, as bitter as the lingering taste of betrayal. The forge room called to her. It offered her some sanctuary from her gue
sts and the sound of unwelcome voices. Hammer and hot steel would relieve her of some of her frustration and allow her to test her muscles. If she could tolerate a few hours at the anvil, she should be strong enough to go after Rohanna.
Slipping out through the back hall, Alex headed for the forge. The familiar actions of stoking the fire and pumping the bellows gave her the first sense of peace she had felt since meeting Rohanna’s stepmother. The smell of hot metal and burning coals radiated warmth that heated the small room enough to send small rivulets of sweat running down her brow. She picked the tools she needed and plucked out a small length of flat steel and thrust it into the coals.
The calming effect was almost instantaneous.
Alex was most at home with herself when she stood next to the heat of the coal forge, felt the heft of the heavy hammer in her hand, the sound of metal ringing in her ears. She loved the sense of creation it gave her when she worked steel, the dull grey of the cold metal changing to crimson and gold, made soft and pliable by the glowing coals.
With her thoughts attuned to heat and softness, an image of Rohanna surfaced in her mind. Rohanna had come to her cold and hard, her life dull and listless. Alex had taught her the joys of standing within the flame, feeling the heat, and craving it, forging Rohanna’s passion much like she forged steel. Even with total ignorance of her heritage, Rohanna had embraced the unrestrained desires that her Fae blood craved. In turn, Rohanna’s wantonness had inflamed Alex to seek even more creative heights.
Captured by her own creation, Alex had discovered too late that the flames of their passion had forged an unbreakable bond between them. She was in love with Rohanna, and it was this knowledge that had kept her firmly planted in that cold field, preparing to confront the one person that could still claim rule over her. Kaleigh was lead Mere. Her rule was absolute, yet Alex had gone against thousands of years of tradition to defy her and for Rohanna, she would do it all over again. Love would always be the ultimate law above and beyond any other bond or vow.
