I paused as we neared the circle of trees. A natural opening appeared where there wasn't one before, and I wasn't sure if it was the magic that made it invisible before, or if the spell I'd cast on Sam and myself had dulled my magic vision.
Magic Vision. Huh…sounds like one of those ads on the back of a comic book.
I followed them into the Circle and my ears popped. Yep, we'd shifted out of phase just bit, entering a place that was between the worlds. Aunt Arden knew her stuff.
The Circle was lined with white stones along the inside of the trees, and the cypress themselves grew in an unnatural even line around. The grass was spotty at best, as if it were walked often, and the center pit, where a balefire would usually burn for rituals, had been filled with more of the same stones to form a knee-high rough cone.
To the right of the pile, from where I stood in the north of the Circle, stood something tall and draped with a thick, burlap covering. Kyle pulled the material off to reveal a tall, smoky mirror. It was an ornate piece of work, with carvings of woodland creatures all along the frame.
"This"—Kyle gestured to the mirror—"is the new Cairn."
I pointed at the stones. "I thought that was it."
"It was, but Arden shifted the link to this mirror. It's easier this way to see who you're talking to."
"You mean they can see in through mirrors?"
"Certain ones, yes. Especially if there is a Goblin in the house."
Now I realized why I'd always been a bit schizo about mirrors. I'd always run from them and I had vague memories of the ones in our house being covered at night. Never knew why.
Till now.
Sam put her hands on her hips. "What I still don't get is how they were coming to this realm and poaching animals. I mean, if a Faerie steps foot on Earth, they turn to ash, don't they?"
"Except on consecrated ground. And this ground had been made sacred centuries ago. You know that mist you see when they have a Wild Hunt?"
Sam and I shook our heads.
"Well, if you see it, get the hell out of the way. They walk in that, and all Hunts have a spell caster ready to sanctify the ground before they run on it."
I smiled. "You mean like Iceman throwing down that ribbon of ice so he can travel fast?"
He pointed at me. "Exactly."
Sam looked back at me. "Iceman?"
"What?" I shrugged. "I read comic books."
"The plan?" Kyle said.
"The plan is to get in, get to Alfheim, find the boys, and get out."
"Right," I said. "And avoid Brendi."
"As much as possible. And if we can't—" She pointed at me. "You release this spell so I can protect us."
I gave her a thumbs up. "So how do we get in?"
"I can activate it," Kyle said as he stood to the side of the mirror. "You two ready?"
Sam and I stood before the mirror. There was no reflection as the silver surface dimmed and then fog moved along it. The fog flowed down and out of the mirror, and I gasped when I realized the glass was no longer there. It was a doorway into a place I swore I never wanted to go back to.
Sam grabbed my hand, and together, we jumped through.
Fifteen
A DARK PRiNCE MEETS A FAERiE PRiNCE
SCYLLA
Scylla's sleep restored his strength, but it didn't help the growing knot in his stomach. He was Earth-bound now. No longer Abysmal and unchanging. He was a part of the body he'd acquired, locked into it. Fused to it, as Morgana had said. She'd also explained to him after he woke that he should probably consider leaving Alfheim soon, and she allowed the Djinn Ripp'n Jack to enter Alfheim because it was Rip that would have to get him out. Morgana possessed a Cairn on the grounds of her castle, which is where Scylla now stood, but she didn't have the magic to open the doorway into the Earthen Realm, as she called it.
He'd showered in the coldest water he could ever remember, under a waterfall in the back garden, surrounded by delightful sprites and dryads, though Morgana had to caution them and him that any interaction with the other could cause hurtful damage to one or the other. As a human-like creature, he was now as susceptible to their poisonous charms and lures as any human. And Morgana did not want her prince sullied.
>So…are you gonna stay in that body now?<
Scylla studied his appearance in the silver surface of the garden's pool. The water looked more like living mercury. He wore a white shirt with long sleeves and bell cuffs with lace. A blue jerkin hung loosely from his shoulders, the laces untied in front. His breaches were black and soft, but a bit tight, and his boots were made of the same blue as the jerkin. I look like a Renn Faire fop, came the thought. It wasn't his thought, but a lingering memory of the former owner.
Scylla didn't know what a Renn Faire was, or a fop, but guessing from Remi's opinion, they weren't enjoyable.
His skin was brighter than before and contained no flaws. All of the blemishes the previous owner suffered were gone. His hair, soft golds and whites, had grown a bit more and now hung to his jaw. He pulled it back to study his face and the small blond hairs growing along his jawline.
The most striking feature he had now were his eyes. They were no longer the color Remi Laborde was born with, but soft amber. They were a tiger's eyes, and they could still see things the normal human eye couldn’t see.
>Hey, are you listening to me? Quit navel gazing.<
Scylla looked to the right at blue cat form of the Djinn. "Navel gazing? What is that?"
>It's you looking all about yourself. Now tell me, are you stuck in that body now?<
"For a time. Morgana promised me that she would separate me from the body."
>When?<
Scylla looked at the azure sky. The sun was setting. The appearance intrigued him. He'd always known there was no real sun in Alfheim, just the appearance of one. It had been destroyed when the Tetragrammaton had laid waste to everything. It was all illusion, held together by the four queens.
Three, for now.
"She didn't say."
>So, are we getting the Goblin or not?<
Scylla pursed his lips and looked back at the surface without seeing it. "No."
The Djinn's body disseminated, then reformed into a different color cat. One of red and rage. >That's why you're here, isn't it? To turn that bastard Guardian in. Son of a bitch should have died!<
Bastard Guardian? Scylla narrowed his eyes at Rip and formed a few questions, such as, why do you call him that, and why does it sound as if you’re familiar with him?
Those questions would have to wait as the pool’s surface churned abruptly and turned black. Scylla took several steps back, and Rip moved himself between Scylla and the pool. Waves of liquid mercury spit up and down as the center of the pool formed a spiral, as if the water were draining out of a hole in the bottom.
Abruptly, the whole thing emptied as something shot out of it. It was a good size and covered in black smoke. Scylla ducked, but still watched, as the object landed a few feet away with a thud in a bed of dandelions, throwing up seeds by the millions. The pool was calm again, and the rumbling he hadn't noticed before stopped.
Moving through the Djinn, Scylla made his way to the shadow and stopped.
It was the boy angel! Only he looked gray and ashen and unhealthy. Even his hair was silver as smoke continued to rise from him.
>Kill him! It's him!<
Scylla held up his hand at Rip and the Djinn was silent. He knelt beside the boy…no, a man. A man most likely the same age, if not close to that of Remi Laborde. He hesitated just a second before he touched the young man's shoulder. Abruptly, the color poured back into him, spreading as if his body were absorbing it. Scylla's hand tingled where he touched the young man and he moved back, still on his knees.
When he still didn't wake, Scylla crept near again and pulled at his shirt, wanting to see where the wings were. But there weren't any. Not even a fold in his skin to show where they would come out.
Again, he was confused as
to why he sensed this man as Goblin, but also…the smell of the First Born. How was that possible?
"Rip…"
The Djinn approached, but hung back just a bit.
"You know him."
>Yes.<
"You said he should have died. Why?"
>Because I shot him before I took his friend.<
"And this friend is…?"
>Mike Ross.<
Ah. The sleeping man in the Witch's apartment. Things were starting to come together. "So this Goblin is after you…because you stole his friend's body. And you shot him," Scylla paused. "What else?"
>I ah…<
"What?" He turned and looked up at the Djinn.
>I burned his memories.<
That made absolutely no sense.
But it didn't matter because the young man was waking and trying to sit up. Scylla moved back on his heels and watched him, waiting with a smile before the Goblin made it to his knees, turned, and then freaked out when he saw Scylla. The Goblin then put his hands to his chest and looked down at himself, and then at his hands. "The spell…how did it stop?"
"What spell?" Scylla was intrigued with this young man. He was handsome, that was obvious. With a nice face, gray eyes and a very interesting mouth. His hair was dark brown, thick and just a tad curly around his neck and ears, and it was in desperate need of a trim. He also had a slight accent to his speech. Slow and sweet.
"I cast a…" He narrowed his eyes at Scylla. "It's you."
"It's me." He held out his hand for a second. "And you are the Angel Boy. Well, my name is Scylla. And I have the feeling you know this rather intolerable gent." He gestured to the Djinn, who'd stationed himself on the other side of the Goblin.
When the young man turned, he immediately back pedaled, jumped to his feet, and produced a flaming sword in his right hand. Scylla had seen that sword in the Witch's home. And he'd felt its power. Rip hissed and grew to the size of the larger cat as the Goblin thrust the sword at him, then twisted and slashed.
>Make him stop!<
But Scylla was enjoying this and learning some things. But not enough. "Sir…Goblin…I'd appreciate it if you didn't try to kill my Djinn."
"This Djinn is a murderer and thief." The Goblin circled around the Djinn, who kept pace with him, growling at him. "You would be wise not to trust him, Incubus. He will obey you because he's compelled, but he will turn on you and destroy you the moment he can."
Scylla didn't need reminding of this; he'd already sensed that though the spell was powerful and well placed on the Djinn, it had flaws and holes, and there would be a moment when the Goblin's words would hold true. But not yet.
The Goblin spoke again, "He's killed innocent people, and he might have killed a Revenant I care a great deal for."
Rip laughed. He made tsk tsk noises as he moved to the right of the Goblin and then the left. >Let me kill him, Master, and take his body. I would love the power in this body.<
Scylla pursed his lips as he watched the attack, parry, slash, separate of the two. "If you wanted his body, why did you take his friend's?"
"Because he needs weak bodies to take," the Goblin said as he abruptly straightened and lowered his sword. "Mike was in the hospital, recovering, and this bastard stole his life."
"And I hear he robbed you of your memories?"
The Goblin turned his attention on Scylla, and he found he didn't like being the full focus of those eyes. "He did. Memories of my mother, of what happened the day my home burned. Memories of my childhood."
Now Scylla made the same noises. "That's too bad, and very poor of you, Rip."
The Goblin's eyes widened and he looked around. "Sam…where is Sam?"
"The Witch?" Scylla shrugged. "I don't know. You were the only one that came through the pool."
"Pool?" He ignored the Djinn and walked through him to the pool. "That's a Cairn?"
"Yes."
"Where am I? Is this the Obsidian Castle?"
Scylla laughed. "Why in the hell would you want to go there? This is the Spring Palace, the home of the Emerald Queen, Morgana."
The boy looked stricken. "Why…how did I get here?"
Scylla shrugged. "I have no idea."
"Because I beckoned ye here, young Goblin," came the voice of the Lady Morgana.
Scylla stood in one fluid motion and turned as the Lady, resplendent in her pink gown and flowing hair, dotted with twinkling stars, entered the garden from the palace side. She was attended by her retinue of sprites and dryads, as well as two golden wolves. She approached them and stood in front of the Goblin.
He looked mesmerized by her and actually dropped to one knee for a very deep bow. He might not have been raised as a Faerie, but he seemed to know court etiquette.
"Oh sweet child, rise upon thy feet. Thy countenance I wish to approve," she said in silky tones. He stood perfectly still as she moved around him, her hands lightly touching his shoulder, his hair, and then she faced him again. She placed a delicate pale finger under his chin and turned his head. "Oh no, no. 'Tis old glamoured for sure. Yet upon these grounds, no such mask should be worn. Reveal thyself, little halfling."
Scylla's own expression revealed his surprise when the tips of the Goblin's ears grew pointed, jutting through his hair, which grew at an alarming rate down his back. Those gray eyes became even brighter as his pupils became slits like those of the other Faeries.
This was the extent of his transformation and this surprised and delighted the Queen. Scylla could not remember ever seeing her so…happy. She actually clapped!
The Goblin looked at each of them, then reached up to touch his face, and then his ears. That's when he made a noise and moved to the pool to look into its reflection. "What did you do to me?"
"Removed several decades of glamour, young one. To see thy true self and reveal thy bloodline."
"But…I don't want to look like this!"
Morgana looked sad. "'Tis not of thine liking? Sad emotions come with this, yet thy bloodline holds true."
"Change me back!" he shouted at her, and Scylla was surprised to see there were tears in his eyes. Was the evidence of his true self that much of a burden? Or was it possible this Goblin didn't know?
Perhaps the secrets were locked within the memories burned?
The young Goblin's hands glowed soft yellow and Scylla felt the stir of power.
Real power. Familiar power.
A Daoine Sidhe's power.
Morgana's expression never changed as she held up her hand. The Goblin's appearance shifted, and once again, he was the same as he'd been moments before. Human, in all appearance.
But far from it.
Once the Goblin checked his reflection, he thanked the Queen. "There was a Witch that came through the Cairn with me."
But Morgana was already turning, dismissing them both. "I know not of a Witch."
"We came through together, Your Grace. We were on our way to the Obsidian Castle."
The Queen paused and looked back. "Then upon the grounds of the Obsidian Queen's home is where she is. The spell of searching looked only for the blood of a true born."
Scylla hadn't heard that before. "A true born?"
"Yes, my Dark Prince." She smiled at him. "I cast the spell upon the Cairns to bring to me one born of the Daoine Sidhe, a true born of the nobility. Though ye called him male, I had but to see the glamour removed. Males of our kind are rare, as rare as snow in summer, and yet revealing thine Goblin here, did ye not see male is what he be?" She smiled at the two of them. "A true miracle is this youngling, and the truth of why the upstart wishes to possess him. 'Tis for his power, for the men of our line, blessed of both beauty and grace, possess also a great power. One we have lost for centuries once Oberon and his siblings hid from our view."
Scylla wasn't sure he understood all of it, but it sounded like the Goblin here had become the focus point of something much bigger than a deal with an upstart queen.
"And thy name, sweet youngling?" She turned
full to them, her skirts moving in slow motion. "Mayest I call thee a name?"
Something in that question made alarms go off inside of Scylla. He wasn't sure what he was doing or where his loyalties were aligned, except with himself. But when the Goblin looked at him in question, Scylla moved his finger to the right and gave the young man the slightest of head shakes.
Do not give this queen your name.
>Dags! His name is Dags McConnell!< came the shriek of the Djinn.
Scylla closed his eyes, damning the demon for all it was worth.
"Dags McConnell," the Queen spoke. A wind kicked up, covering the air with cherry blossoms and dandelions. A spell had been cast and Scylla was sure it was bad.
"And a nice name, young Dags. Please…make thine self at home as I call upon my sisters, for you will not be returning to the Human Realm.
Ever."
Sixteen
ANOTHER STALL
levi
Levi stood in the corner of Captain Prescott's office, watching as this Detective King and Crwys went round and round in an argument. Apparently, Dags called King to let her know that Mike Ross was in New Orleans and that he was on his way to retrieve him. But King lost track of Dags and called the local law to track him down.
Sam's name came up in the middle of King explaining things to Prescott and that just set off a mini World War III in the small office. Captain Prescott disliked Sam with a passion, but it wasn't just Sam. Levi'd tried to tell Sam several times the police captain's dislike was for all the voodoo and hoodoo and witchy sellers in the Quarter. She didn't believe in magic and saw all of them as criminals and grifters.
Chimes At Midnight (The Grimoire Chronicles Book 3) Page 9
