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Bound by Faerie: An Urban Fantasy Novel (Stolen Magic Book 1)

Page 12

by WB McKay


  I decided there wasn't anything to fear from a people doing their best to stay hidden, so I turned my gaze back to the hypnotic sway of Owen's tail as he soared through the air. If I paid too much attention to the strange land around me, the crow inside might fly off in search of something shiny. While I was always myself in any form, my impulse control was a little fuzzier when I wore feathers. That sort of thing could easily get me killed in Faerie.

  After what felt like hours, the land below turned into rolling green hills and Owen began to descend. I tucked my wings in close, rocketing down to a spot just under his belly before popping my wings out like a parachute. I wanted to get the necklace as soon as he shifted back to a man.

  At least that was the plan, until something flew out of nowhere and wrapped around the both of us. I slammed into his scaly underside and lost consciousness.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Men's voices surrounded me.

  "I didn't mean to injure the crow. I didn't see it," said one of them, his voice throaty and hoarse. "What kind of bird flies that close to a dragon, anyway?"

  "She won't be happy with you if it dies," replied another, his voice gruff. "She'll eat you whole."

  "It would be an honor to be devoured by The Goddess Of Battle," said Throaty.

  I let my eyes crack open. I wasn't sure I wanted them to know I was awake. They seemed concerned about my well-being, but they'd also done whatever it was that pulled Owen and I out of the air. There were only the two of them nearby, though their constant chatter made it sound like more.

  "I saw the crow," said Gruff, ignoring Throaty. "You should have let me operate the net."

  "You didn't see it until the net was already away," said Throaty with a growl. "What good did that do? It's not like I could steer it once it was in the air. And anyway, I did what I needed to do. I got the dragon, and he was wearing the necklace."

  Necklace? Dragon? My dragon? I mean my Owen—Owen. They have Owen. These guys knew about the necklace. This was where the necklace had lured him.

  We'd arrived.

  Of course, the landing had been rough. I hadn't seen any net. It must have been magic. It wounded my pride to be caught by a couple of nattering idiots. I consoled myself with the fact that they probably hadn't worked the magic themselves. Even an idiot could buy good magic and do a lot of damage. That's why I had a job retrieving dangerous magical objects. While they kept chattering at one another I risked opening my eyes all the way.

  Thick, unruly beards smothered their faces, obscuring their features. Black feathers were neatly knotted in their long hair. Crow feathers. As the rest of their conversation filtered through my foggy brain, I put together that these fools worshiped The Morrigan. Not a people I'd ever planned to meet. In fact, getting out of there before introductions became necessary sounded like the best possible plan. I had to find Owen and the necklace and get the hell out. I pulled myself unsteadily to my feet, balancing with my outstretched wings. The only thing I had going for me was that they thought I was an ordinary crow, so I wasn't about to shift in front of them. Besides, who knew if these two had buddies.

  Throaty let out a shout of joy. Apparently he wasn't as keen on becoming a meal for The Goddess of Battle as he let on. Good for him. Live another day, buddy. Hopefully far, far away from me...

  No sign of Owen. Best to check myself over before I went flying in search of him, so I preened my feathers and took inventory. Nothing seemed broken. A few feathers were bent and a couple more missing. I was pretty sure I recognized a couple of the ones stuck in Gruff's hair. He'd pay for plucking those one day.

  Once certain I was in flying order, I studied my surroundings. I was inside a round, stone room. There were several large windows open to the outside, exposing only sky from my position on the floor. Along the walls were rows of boxes filled with straw. The beams above were covered in bird shit. I was in a roost. Judging by the rounded stone walls, it was in a turret in a freaking castle.

  Throaty and Gruff stared at me with goofy grins on their faces. Throaty mimed flapping wings with his arms. What. Goofballs. I'd had enough of them. If I flew off, maybe they'd leave and give me a moment's peace to do some thinking. I cawed at them, hoping it sounded like "Fuck off," and flew out the window. I don't know if it was my vocalization, or something about my movements, but Gruff and Throaty looked offended.

  Good.

  I glided on the wind currents outside the window, observing the castle below me. Much like the one I'd seen in the rich neighborhood in Volarus, this one looked like it had been pulled right out of medieval Europe. Something about this one seemed more authentic though. It was hard to define. After floating around for a while to absorb the layout, it hit me. The place felt old in a way that couldn't be faked. This place really was hundreds, if not thousands, of years old. I could feel its age pressing down on me like a weight. No, that wasn't the age. That was magic. It was so thick it felt like a blanket. This place had been bathed in magic, even more so than the other parts of Faerie I'd seen. Strangely, there didn't appear to be any glamour. The magic floated in the air, wild and untamed.

  I landed back in the roost and was glad to see that Tweedledee and Tweedledum were gone. They'd left a bowl of raw meat for me, apparently aware I'd come back. Ugh. I'd eat it if I had to, but Siobhan's dinner was still holding me over for now. The rest of the castle had windows that closed, so it was time to explore it from the inside.

  When I noticed the wand lying on the table, I let out a sigh of relief. Or the crow version of one anyway. The dopey clansmen must have brought it with me. Those two couldn't be the brains of the operation, not if they couldn't tell a magic wand from a stick a crow might tote around.

  I grabbed it in my talons and flew down the twisting stairs. It was a tight fit, and I was glad when I came out in a wide room with a tall ceiling. It looked like it may have been a library a thousand years ago. The remnants of shelving were crumbled into piles at the base of the walls.

  The outside surveillance work I'd done gave me an idea of the layout. The area I was most eager to explore was separated from the main body of the castle by a long hallway and didn't have any windows. I was betting on it being a jail.

  I searched through unused room after unused room until I swooped into a space lit by torches. Seriously, real pitch torches. It made the air reek, but the ambience couldn't be beat. Several dozen men gathered at heavy wooden tables, stuffing their faces with meats I couldn't easily identify. The savory aroma was almost covered by the tangy smell of dark beer sloshed in glasses and spilled down beards. Every man in the room could have been described the same way as Throaty and Gruff, with only slight variations in build and hair color. Dozens of weapons lined racks along the walls, crude pieces of metal with leather wrapped around their handles. While they weren't anything to write home about, they'd still rip you open and introduce you to your own guts. I was very glad I hadn't shifted back to my human form.

  A few gazes turned my way, but for the most part I was ignored. Crows flying around the dining hall must have been a common occurrence, as evidenced again by the bird droppings on the wooden beams. Gross. I made mental note of the room's location in case I needed to search for edible food later and continued on my quest toward the jail.

  A few rooms later I found the hallway I'd seen from the sky. The ends of the hall were capped with metal bars too close together for a human or dragon to squeeze through, but were easily navigated by a crow.

  Judging the layouts of buildings was a big part of breaking into them. Retrieving items for MOD was all about the smooth break-in. Never let it be said that I didn't know my job inside and out. The windowless room was definitely the jail.

  When I squeezed through the bars at the far end, I looked up at the face of a guard clutching a crude sword.

  "Hello there, little crow. I think you're lost. Nothing in here for you." He pulled a lever that raised the metal bars into a narrow gap in the ceiling. He made a shooing motion. "Out you go."<
br />
  I ignored him and flew down the hall.

  "Suit yourself," said the guard. "Just don't peck out the eyes of the prisoners when you get hungry. We need them whole."

  Well, at least there was that. They weren't into beating on their prisoners. That's when I realized this had turned into a rescue mission in my mind. I couldn't just take the necklace and leave Owen twisting in the wind. He had helped me with the necklace for selfish reasons, apparently to steal it from me, but he'd still helped me. I at least owed him one small jailbreak.

  A couple of turns later I came upon my first row of cells, all empty. At the end of the hall were a set of stairs. The next floor was empty as well. I thought the third floor was empty too, but a grunt sounded from what I'd mistaken for a pile of rags. I cawed until the shape stirred and peered out at me. Dirty and gaunt, like he'd been there for a long time, the necklace around his neck glinted torchlight as if it was freshly polished. Magic. It was nearly identical to the one that ensnared me, the one I was hunting the jail for. Once I found Owen, we would have to come back for this man. This dragon, I noted. The crow in me registered it upon meeting his gaze when my human form might not have. I couldn't sense his magic. He only regarded me for a moment before slumping back onto his straw pallet, the small effort exhausting him. I was horrible at guessing the ages of other fae, but this dragon felt old. I hoped he hadn't been in that cell for as long as I suspected.

  On the top floor there was a woman in much the same condition, necklace and all. She still smelled faintly of hot metal, but she didn't move from her seated position, not even to look at me. At the other end of her cell block, I heard a shuffling sound.

  I flitted down to the last cell and cawed involuntarily at Owen. He paced his cell with a fervor that contrasted with the dull look in his normally bright eyes. His strong shoulders drooped. It wouldn't be long before he resembled the other two prisoners. I shifted to my human form and held up the wand.

  "Come here Owen, so I can get that thing off you." I waved at him frantically. Being in human form had me feeling vulnerable. I checked that my swords were firmly in place. "Come on!"

  Owen paused his pacing to stare at me vacantly. "Just go away. I need this."

  "Owen, Siobhan told me what that thing does. Trust me, you want to take it off as soon as possible." I waved the wand at him. "Get over here. I don't want to shift just to get in there and take it off you." Being behind bars held no appeal. Once he took the necklace off, he could melt his way out.

  "I know what it does. That's why I took it," he said, bitter anger coloring his words. At my shocked look, he continued. "You thought the lure made me steal it?" He reached into his pocket and pulled out a black velvet bag. "Nope. The enchantment on this bag mutes the lure even now. My head is clear, you don't have to save me. I don't want to take it off. I need it."

  I shook my head. "This isn't you," I said. Owen slumped down on his pallet against the wall, putting more distance between us. He didn't know what he was saying. He was being controlled. I never realized the lure was affecting me while I had the necklace on. Neither would he. "This conversation is getting us nowhere. I'll be back when I have the keys."

  I shifted back to crow and put the wand out of Owen's reach. I didn't want to take it with me when I needed to carry keys, but I couldn't trust him not to destroy it. As if escaping from a castle full of crazed barbarians who worshiped The Morrigan wasn't hard enough already, I had to deal with a combative escapee.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  The guard at the gate was amused to see me return. He pulled the lever to open the metal gate and made a sweeping gesture, urging me out. It was so kind, and he looked at me with such reverence, that I hesitated briefly before I raked my talons at his face. He was being nice to me, but he was holding Owen prisoner. Still, I wasn't too aggressive. I only needed to distract him enough that he wouldn't notice his keys were gone.

  The guard let out a startled yelp and swatted ineffectually at the air I no longer occupied. I swooped in for another attack and came away with a chunk of his greasy hair. Ew. That must have hurt.

  He howled and swung his sword. It didn't come anywhere near me, which seemed intentional. He was still trying not to hurt a crow. I laughed and it came out as a series of strangled caws. It sounded rather evil.

  A few more passes and he was flustered enough that he couldn't keep his eyes on me, swinging blindly in his frustration. Instead of going for his head on the final pass, I swooped lower and pulled the keys from the rope that held up his pants, and flew back into the jail. As I turned the first corner, I caught sight of him still spinning and looking for where I'd gone. Perfect.

  Up three floors, and I was standing in front of Owen's cell, the keys clutched in my hands. "Time to go," I said, trying the first key on the ring. "Pack your bags."

  Owen growled at me. Not a human growl, which was always a little extra from him, but a full-throated dragon growl that shouldn't have been manageable from a human throat. "You need to leave me here. This is what I need."

  I ignored him and fumbled with keys until one of them finally went snick and the door swung free, squealing loudly. Owen growled again and swatted at me, his hand alight with fire. He let out a pained howl and shrunk back into the corner of his cell, fear creasing his features.

  "Don't you see? If you don't leave me here, I'll kill someone else. I almost killed you when you stole my book." His words tumbled out so quickly I could barely follow him. He curled in on himself, his hands clutched to his chest. "Have to get rid of the fire."

  "This necklace must be hitting you so much faster than it did me because you're a dragon." I stepped up to him, strangely unafraid. He seemed more like a frightened child than an enraged dragon. In one quick motion I pulled the wand from behind my back and touched it to the necklace.

  It fell to the floor and I snatched it up without a second thought. Its lure called to me, but now that I knew what to look for, I could fight the compulsion to put it on. For a while at least. I was used to the fight against my covetous tendencies. Still, that struggle made it difficult to be of aid to Owen, who was still cowering in the corner. With a deep breath, my emotions were shoved aside. We needed to get the hell out of there. I kneeled by his side, prepared to come up with something comforting to say, and I took his hand in mine. I jerked with shock as the lure's magic disappeared like someone had flicked off a switch.

  "What in the—oh." I looked down at Owen's pocket where the magical bag was hidden. Everything he said was a hundred percent true. He wasn't being affected by the compulsion charm.

  "You thieving asshole!" I shouted and dropped his hand. The compulsion to put the necklace on washed over me. I reached into his pocket and snatched the bag, putting the necklace inside of it, nullifying the enchantment that attracted us to it.

  Emotions raged through me. I almost pulled my sword I was so pissed off. "You never intended to destroy this thing. You wanted it the whole time. You were careful about what you said. You said you wanted to make sure it was 'taken care of'. You are just a covetous dick like the rest of the dragons I deal with."

  Owen straightened, finally looking like himself again. That smug grin slid back into place. "You're right. I manipulated you," he said. "And I would do it again." His grin turned fierce. "Now give me back the necklace. I need it."

  That phrase echoed in my head. He needed the necklace. That was true. There was no enchantment influencing his words. He needed it. "Why?"

  He didn't get the chance to answer. Booted feet slapped on stone, echoing up the stairs. I peeked out the cell and counted eight of the clansmen crowding into the room with more coming. I looked down at the bag in my hand and lamented my nudity and lack of pockets. I tossed the necklace down the stairs, hoping the men coming up them wouldn't see it in the gloom. "If you want that necklace, Owen, you need to help me fight through these bastards." The sound of steel rung through the air as I drew both my swords.

  The clansmen only gawked at the naked
woman in front of them for a moment before springing into action with their crude weapons. That was long enough for me to disembowel one with Epic and stab another in the chest with Haiku. As I'd become fond of doing while using my swords, I recited poems I'd memorized, using the rhythm of the words to keep my motions measured and controlled. I danced among the brutes, slashing them open and delighting in the fury of battle and the feel of warm blood splashing my skin. It was a little screwed up from an outside perspective, but I was my mother's child. Battle excited me.

  Owen dove into the fray, his dragon strength cracking bones whenever he landed a solid hit. There were only two men left which was good because Owen was huffing and puffing like he'd run a marathon. That necklace had really taken it out of him.

  I advanced on the man to my left, and he backed up. Smart guy. The man on the right circled toward Owen. My opponent lunged, swinging his enormous sword at my head. I ducked and ran him through. He crumpled to the floor.

  Owen wheezed loudly, and one arm hung limply at his side. I was about to finish his opponent when a whole new crowd of men swarmed up the stairs. At least a dozen.

  "Damn it." I raised my swords, mentally calculating our odds. They weren't good. I might be able to take them if Owen were in better shape, or not there at all. I couldn't do it while trying to drag him along with me.

  I had to make the tough call. They wanted Owen for a prisoner. The guard had said they wanted him in one piece. I was the unknown. I sheathed my swords and shifted to crow in a puff of smoke. My wings unfolded and I leapt into the air. The reaction from the clansmen was immediate, and nothing I could have imagined. As one, they dropped to their knees, murmuring what sounded like prayers.

 

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