“In the days before she was so very dark, yes,” Herne murmured. “I did love her. As she did me. Sometimes love can be a terribly destructive thing, lady. I have spent lifetimes trying to make amends for what love once made me do.”
“Can you read my thoughts?” Kelley asked warily.
“No.” Herne laughed softly. “Just your face. You glanced at the pony, frowned, glanced up at me, and your expression became thoughtful. It was fairly easy to interpret.”
“Oh. Right.”
“But henceforward, around your own kind at least, you will probably want to learn to school your thoughts. Or at least keep them from showing so plainly in your visage. That is, if you intend to take up the legacy of your birth.”
“You think it would be dangerous for me to do so.”
“I think it is your blood right, and the decision is yours and yours alone,” Herne said. “But be warned, lady. There are those who might not be so eager for you to embrace that right. The Unseelie king among them.”
“My father? Why?”
“Only Auberon’s direct heir is able to inherit the throne after him. And the thrones of the Faerie kingdoms must remain occupied.”
“So without an heir, Auberon has no worries about having to ever give up his kingship,” Kelley said. “But I thought that the Fae were immortal.”
The Horned One held up a hand. “Yes, and no. Faerie are immortal only insofar as they do not age or sicken. They can still be killed.”
Right, Kelley remembered, that’s what Sonny does.
Her thoughts turned again to him and to what Auberon had said….
Herne was speaking. “That is the way of it for all of the rulers of the Fair Folk. The kings and queens of Faerie are protected by the power of their thrones. Without heirs, they remain utterly inviolate, and without deadly enemies.”
“So…I’m a threat to Auberon.”
“You could be. But you could also be a powerful ally, doubling the strength of the Unseelie Court.” Herne shrugged. “I do not know which way King Auberon perceives you. He is a deep thinker, and I would not presume to know his mind.”
“He offered to make me human.”
“That, in itself, says something. But again, whether he made such an offer for his own sake, or for yours…I do not know.” The Hunter’s gaze was warm, sympathetic. “Think hard on this choice, Kelley Winslow. As one who has lived a very long life tangled in the threads of Faerie webs, I would urge caution when dealing with their machinations. Friend and foe are sometimes indistinguishable. Or one and the same.”
“Can he do it?” Kelley asked. “Can my father make me human?”
“After a fashion,” Herne said. “As Lord of the Unseelie Court of Faerie, he can certainly take back the power of the Unseelie throne that you by blood right hold—but only if you give it willingly. He cannot force it from you.”
“I see.”
Herne stopped her. “Were you to ever do such a thing, lady, I would ask for something in return, if I were you. Such a gift should not be come by lightly. Even by a Faerie king.”
“I’ll try to remember that. Thank you.”
Herne paced slowly beside her.
“You are handling all of this really very well, you know,” he said, a smile in his voice, as if he’d sensed her thoughts once again.
“Oh, I am not,” she said. “I’m in total denial and pretty sure I’m dreaming.” She put her other hand on his arm and squeezed. “But it’s kind of a nice drea—”
Suddenly Herne the Hunter grabbed her by the shoulders and flung her hard against a mirrored pillar—out of the way of a flaming pumpkin that roared out of the night. The fiery gourd exploded into an orange ball of fire as it hit the flagstones of the Tavern courtyard.
All around her, Faerie were screaming—some in panic, but most in rage. The Green was sanctuary, and someone had just violated it.
“Where is my daughter?” shrieked the terrifying specter that appeared in the sky above the courtyard, dressed in a raven-wing cloak, with wild red hair and a flashing, green-eyed gaze. Something clicked in Kelley’s brain in the midst of the sudden, intense bedlam.
“You have your mother’s eyes,” Auberon had said.
Mabh.
The Queen of Air and Darkness was her mother.
“To the princess!” Herne bellowed. “Protect the girl!”
All around her, the Lost Fae shimmered and shifted. With a rush of invocations, weapons of all kinds appeared, gripped tightly in graceful, fine-boned hands. Kelley saw things heaving themselves out of the depths of the fountains—creatures with claws and teeth, wielding cudgels and axes; and other creatures that didn’t need weapons.
The place erupted into chaos, and it was all Kelley could do to get out of the way and avoid being trampled by those trying to protect her.
In the sky above Mabh’s head, she saw cloaked and hooded wraiths, screeching curses and flinging lightning-lashed tempests at the Faerie warriors with devastating effect. She knew suddenly what these were.
Mabh’s Storm Hags, Kelley thought, terrified. They’re here for me.
Something must have gone terribly wrong with Sonny and Lucky.
She ducked and ran for the safety of the arbor that led to the shore of Avalon’s lake. But there were so many twisting passageways in the Tavern that she quickly became hopelessly lost. Bursting through a set of double oak doors out into the cold night air, Kelley found herself suddenly standing in the car-filled parking lot of New York’s Tavern on the Green, back in the mortal world.
A group of costumed revelers poured out through the doors of the tavern behind her. “Happy Halloween, missy!” one of them slurred, tipping a pointy wizard’s hat in her direction.
Kelley watched, stunned and horrified, as something that resembled a bat-winged howler monkey leaped from the trees onto the unwitting reveler and tore the hat to shreds. Before its claws could rend flesh, Kelley screamed at the people to run for their lives and ripped the clover charm from her throat with one hand. She flung out her other hand without stopping to think, willing the horrible creature to be gone.
Brilliant light flashed in a corona all around her.
There was a pop! and the thing disappeared with an extremely surprised look on its face. Kelley fell to her knees, her brightness diminished, winded by the amount of effort it had taken to do whatever it was she had just done.
In the distance, she heard sirens and screaming.
She stuffed the charm into the tiny purse that dangled from her wrist and ran.
After falling on her face for the third time, Kelley finally kicked off Tyff’s ridiculous heels, heedless of cold or the sharp gravel of the path. In the distance, she heard more screaming—terrified cries from human throats. She ran up the rise of a low hill and looked out over a panorama that could have come from a Hieronymus Bosch painting—of demons torturing the souls of the damned in hell.
The Janus must have been overwhelmed, fending off Mabh and her minions, thought Kelley frantically, and so the Samhain Gate had swung wide, undefended. All manner of horrific creatures from the Otherworld poured out through rifts. Anyone unlucky enough to be caught in the park was being chased and tormented by beings that none of them could have imagined. Kelley saw spiny things and fiery things and pale, bony things with too-large eyes spreading out across the park with malicious intent.
All around her now, she could hear sirens in the air. Kelley knew that New York’s Finest would be no match for the swarming Faerie monsters—the police would be nothing more than fodder against such creatures. She had to do something, and she had to do it fast. She had to find Sonny. Or, barring that, she had to find the one other person who she knew had the power to help her.
As her strength returned, the light started to flare from her skin once again. Kelley concentrated, and her brightness dimmed as she pulled every ounce of power she could grasp at into herself and stretched out with her awareness to try to find her father.
When h
is presence struck in her mind, it was like the impact of a hard-flung snowball. Suddenly she knew where he was—she just had to get there. Fast.
Half embarrassed to do so, Kelley turned and glanced at the lacy, shining wings that floated out from either side of her spine. With an effort of sheer brute will, she made them flutter—then flutter faster. She could feel her feet lifting off the ground and felt a surge of triumph. But her concentration wavered. The wings crumpled, and Kelley fell forward onto her face in a drift of fallen leaves.
Cursing, she pushed herself up and started to run.
XXXIV
“H erne!” Sonny shouted above the din. “Where is she?”
All around him the Tavern was in shambles, shards of crystal and bits of broken tables littering the marble floors. Pockets of furious fighting between Lost Fae and Mabh’s minions carried on with unabated ferocity. Blood pooled on the tiles, red and pale pinkish liquids mingling with green and yellow splatters.
Sonny reached the side of the embattled Hunter, who swung a huge ax in great space-clearing arcs. “Where is Kelley?” he asked again.
“We lost her in the fight!” Herne raised his voice so that Sonny could hear him. “She ran. Back into the park.” He brought the ax down in a chopping blow that cleaved the head of something lumpy and angrylooking in two. “Go! Find her before Mabh does. Or worse.”
Sonny spun around and raced back out into the courtyard. All of the other Janus had been too occupied with the rampaging king statue to accompany him, except Maddox. Meeting up with him—and Lucky, for the kelpie, it seemed, would not let Sonny too far out of his sight—in the yard, Sonny burst out of the Tavern doors, his companions close behind. In the deserted parking lot, they paused just long enough for Sonny to orient his senses on Kelley’s unique flame.
“That way,” Sonny said, as soon as he could see her in his mind. The fuse on his Firecracker was sparking wildly now, and it would have been impossible for him to miss her.
Sonny turned to run south down the path leading from the parking lot, but before he and Maddox had taken a dozen long strides, an oak tree in front of them suddenly blew apart.
Sonny threw an arm over his face and tackled Maddox out of the way as thousands of needle-sharp splinters peppered them. The air rippled, and an overwhelming scent of decay washed over them. Lucky’s eyes rolled white in his head and his nostrils flared.
A small army of stunted, troll-like fae circled the two Janus and the kelpie, slavering and swinging axes and pikes. Redcaps—named for their gruesome habit of soaking their long caps in the blood of those they’d slain.
“And you thought the piskies were a bitch,” Maddox grunted, sinking into a defensive crouch beside Sonny. A redcap lunged, and Maddox lashed out in a judo kick, almost snapping the head off the creature. The spear it carried flew from its suddenly limp hands, and Maddox snatched it out of the air. Beside him, Sonny drew his bundle of oak, ash, and thorn and whispered his incantation, transforming it to sharp silver. Lucky struck out with his hooves, front and back.
A full-scale battle erupted, bloody minutes flying by. Then, quite unexpectedly, help dropped from the sky. The Fennrys Wolf leaped from out of nowhere into the center of the fray. Tearing two redcaps apart with his bare hands, his eyes black with battle madness, he turned to Sonny and grinned wildly. “Maddox and me will clear a path. Take the damned horse and ride, Sonny-boy. Ride fast.”
Maddox nodded. “Go, Sonn. Go! Find her.”
Sonny flung his leg over Lucky’s back, and the kelpie bounded through the space that Maddox and the Wolf cleared free.
Thank the gods Tyffanwy had taken care to remove all the talismans. Without them, there could be no Roan Horse to call a Rider to, and Sonny could ride Lucky without fear of waking the Hunt. He needed the horse’s speed to find Kelley in time—before Auberon or Mabh got to her first. Lucky pounded over the ground and crested a hill, and Sonny saw the Central Park Carousel silhouetted in the harsh light of the moon.
A single, piercing note shattered the still darkness.
A note from Mabh’s war horn.
Beneath Sonny’s thighs, Lucky bucked and reared, seemingly trying to throw the Janus from his back. Sonny would have been only too glad to oblige, but when he tried to fling himself off, he found that he could no longer move his legs. His knees gripped tight to the horse’s flanks, and his hand was clenched in a frozen fist, grasping Lucky’s mane.
The horn sounded a second note.
Sonny heard rather than saw the charms, then, rattling together just under the bow Tyffanwy had tied in Lucky’s forelock. He reached forward and gave the ribbon a yank. It fell away, revealing three onyx gems concealed in the kelpie’s mane, hidden by a glamour until that very moment. The veil was so sophisticated, so perfect, that it was no surprise both he and Tyff had missed them.
Sonny thrust his free hand into the pocket of his satchel and found the three stones from the path by the Lake. The ones he’d shown Auberon.
They were exactly that: stones. Common pebbles spell-cast to make them look like the onyx gems that had been tied throughout the kelpie’s mane.
And the bastard sat there and playacted, implicating Mabh without ever actually saying it was she, Sonny thought bitterly as he threw the pebbles to the ground in a helpless rage. I guess I know now where Kelley gets her acting talents—her father’s a master at the art.
Beneath him, the kelpie tossed his head violently. Sonny felt the horse’s muscles bunch and lengthen, his body mass increasing and growing heated, as if stoked from some great internal furnace roaring to life.
One last horrible note split the night air. Beneath Sonny, the kelpie leaped up, and the young Janus felt a second great heat bloom to life—in the place where, only a moment ago, his own broken heart had been.
He never should have taken the chance of climbing onto the kelpie’s back.
He cursed himself bitterly. Another grave mistake, Sonny.
It was his last coherent thought.
A great emptiness spread through his chest in the wake of the blazing heat, and there no longer seemed to be any reason for him to fight the consuming fury that washed over him. The fiery stallion beneath him leaped into the air, and the only impulse left to Sonny was to hunt.
And kill.
XXXV
T he notes of the war horn tore at Kelley. She put her hands over her ears as she ran and shut her eyes, which made her trip over what lay before her on the gravel pathway—a bloodied, wild-eyed apparition.
It was Bob.
He was gasping for breath and looked as though he might have run the entire way from the theater. He flung out an arm toward Kelley and tried to speak, but it was as if invisible hands clutched at his throat and covered his mouth. Kelley instinctively recognized his affliction for what it was: The boucca wasn’t simply out of breath; he had been enchanted. He struggled in vain to say something, but the words would not come out of his mouth. Flecks of pinkish foam appeared at the corners of his pale green lips.
Suddenly, as if the words of the Bard had a magic of their own, he began to quote his own lines from the play.
“Up and down, up and down,” he chanted, keening with the effort to push the words past his pain-clenched teeth. “I will lead them up and down.”
Bob pointed behind him with a shaking finger. “I am feared in field and town. Goblin, lead them up and down.”
Kelley wanted to help the tortured boucca but found herself, instead, compelled to look past where Bob writhed in pain: up the road, to the top of the hill—and the carousel.
Dark glittering energy crackled and danced over the contours of the little building. The shuttered security doors, pulled down tight for the night, wavered like a mirage and faded from existence. Weird, eerie lights danced and played in the darkened shadows beneath the carousel roof, and thunder-clouds boiled in the sky above. In the distance, Kelley could hear the baying of what sounded like a whole pack of Black Shuck.
All Kelley could thin
k of in her panic was to hide. Become invisible.
Hadn’t Sonny once said she could do that?
The howling grew louder.
Kelley wrapped her arms around Bob and wished with all of her desperate, terrified might that she could disappear. She looked down and saw Bob’s pale green eyes go wide, and then he vanished from sight altogether. Both of them did.
She could still hear Bob’s ragged breathing, feel his limbs trembling in her grasp. The effort of casting the veil almost caused her to black out. Darkness threatened to descend upon her, but she fought against it, holding tight to the wounded fae in her arms.
When she was able to see clearly again, she looked toward the carousel, and Bob’s warning became suddenly, devastatingly clear.
The ride began to spin, wreathed in inky, glistening smoke.
In the air above the carousel, the magnificent fiery stallion that used to be Lucky galloped into view. He screamed and lashed out with teeth and hooves, long limbs coiled in flame. Astride his back, the Rider kept his seat effortlessly upon the bucking, plunging mount.
Kelley felt her strength falter as the tears streamed down her face and, briefly, the veil she had managed to call up wavered. The Rider’s gaze shifted and for a moment they locked eyes. She cried out his name, but his expression remained remote.
Frozen and merciless.
Sonny…
The thin, cheerful music of the calliope twisted into a cacophony of skirling battle cries, and Kelley cringed at the howling rage. She watched in horror as the wooden horses of the carousel convulsed, shuddering into terrible life. Her nightmares were becoming real right before her eyes. Bloodthirsty Faerie hunters shimmered into being astride the gaily painted saddles.
Wondrous Strange Page 20
