by Eric Asher
“Once we get to Falias, I’ll have someone look at Foster.” Aideen patted his knee. “I can heal him a bit more, but if we’re going to be engaging the dark-touched and Hern’s army, I’d prefer not to be exhausted.”
“You can always stay at the Inn,” Zola said.
“I’m not dead yet,” Foster muttered. “These hands can still make a whole bunch of other people dead before I’m dead, so I’m not staying at the bloody Inn.”
I laughed and took another bite of breakfast burrito. Apparently, Aideen and Foster had already had this conversation, too. He was clearly not happy about Zola mimicking his wife’s suggestion.
My phone rang, and I frowned at Sam’s caller ID. I answered and put it on speaker. “What’s up?”
“Vik’s already got people on their way to Kansas City,” Sam said. “I don’t think we have many vampires to spare.”
“I’m not surprised. That may not be a bad thing, though. If Hugh and Ashley are both in KC right now, and we know they’ve had problems with the dark-touched there.”
“You’re still getting two of the best,” Sam said. “Dominic and Jonathan will both be meeting you.”
That gave me some measure of relief. They were two of the greatest fighters Vik had, and the fact the old vampire was sending them out with us surprised me a bit, considering the current climate. I had no doubt Sam had more than a little to do with it.
“That’s great,” I said.
“I had to promise Vik not to go.” The irritation was plain in her voice. “He still tries to baby me worse than you sometimes, Demon. Really annoying. But I’d rather you have Dominic and Jonathan than me for this fight.”
“You’ll stay here with Frank and keep everybody out of trouble?”
“You mean keep the cu siths from eating people?” Sam asked.
Peanut’s ears flicked up, and he finally rose from his resting spot in front of the grandfather clock.
“I think Peanut heard you,” I said.
“They don’t eat people,” Aideen muttered. “They might chew on them a little bit, but they always spit them out.”
Sam barked out a laugh. “Be careful out there. All of you.”
“We will,” Vicky said. She scarfed down her last bite of breakfast burrito and fed some scraps to Jasper.
“Take care of that old vampire,” Zola said. “Lord knows, he could use the help.”
“Will do,” Sam said, and then she hung up.
“Is Nixie coming?” Foster asked.
I shook my head. “I talked to her earlier. She’s headed to an emergency convention to meet with local politicians. They’re threatening to mobilize the UK’s military against the Fae after Nudd’s actions.”
“I hope she can influence them,” Aideen said. “Drowning all the delegates would likely not help much.”
I grinned at the fairy. “That’s a fair point.”
“We should get packed,” Zola said. “It is time.” She glanced at Vicky. “Ah don’t feel good about dragging you along with us.”
“I have a dragon,” Vicky said. “I’ll be fine.”
Zola frowned at the round ball of fur with the big black eyes. “Be safe. Move if you’re told to move, and stay hidden if we tell you to.”
“You sound like Carter,” Vicky muttered. “I miss him.”
And perhaps that changed Zola’s mind, the subtle reminder of the life Vicky had led in the Burning Lands. How she’d run with the Ghost Pack, slain dark-touched, and survived until she was once more pulled back into this world. Because my master said no more.
* * *
I stood before the shimmering red gateway. Somehow Aideen had talked me into walking through the Warded Ways instead of taking the much-smoother path that I’d grown used to with Gaia. Something about everyone arriving at once making less of a ripple, being less likely to get noticed.
It made a certain kind of sense, but now that I was standing at the gateway, with the two fairies laughing at me, I felt like this was going to be a very bad trip.
“I really don’t want to hold this open any longer,” Aideen said. “Just step through. We’ll be right behind you.”
I grimaced at the fairy, took a deep breath, and then stepped into the Warded Ways. Some of the portals weren’t that bad, like those that took you to the edge of Faerie, or those that were simply a gateway between dimensions, to step from one world to another. But the portals to travel halfway across the country, or the world, were not so nice. For a split second, it felt as if something had grabbed my ankles and my wrists and then pulled until my body twisted and elongated so it could be tied into a pretzel a moment later. A dim red light became bloody brilliant yellow, and for a moment it wasn’t so bad, almost like going over the first large hill on a roller coaster, but then the fun began. It felt like being slammed into one wall and then another, jerked to the right until my head cracked against something hard, only to be flung forward into a whirlpool-like spiral of power. As I finally found my voice in that chaos, I let out a yelp a second before the light went out around me. I blinked, breathing hard against the cold, damp stone floor.
“You’re alive,” Zola said. I squinted at her, a dim ball of illumination floating above her right shoulder. “A little bit faster than Gaia, too, Ah’d say.”
Two winged forms blipped into existence above me, and the portal snapped closed. I rolled over and groaned, only to find myself face-to-face with Jasper and his rather intimidating silver-gray teeth. The furball grinned at me, and I threw an arm over my eyes.
“Not you, too.”
“Get up, boy,” Zola said. “You’ve been practicing your control over Illuminadda spells? We’ll be needing light in these catacombs, but not too much light.”
“What are you trying to say? That I …” Whatever witty thought I’d been about to throw out was lost to a wave of my churning stomach. I lay flat on the floor until the nausea passed. “Why did I agree to that?”
Footsteps sounded nearby. I thought I should probably get off my ass and stand up to greet whatever friend or foe was about to come into the room. On the other hand, they could kill me now, and I’d probably feel a lot better.
“Lying down on the job?” a familiar voice said.
I turned my head to the side and groaned in earnest when I saw Drake standing there, a snide smirk on his face.
“What are you doing here? I thought the Morrigan was coming?”
“She sent me instead. It’s your lucky day.”
“Oh, that’s right,” Vicky said. “Drake used to live in the palace. I bet he knows all the secrets.”
“He probably does,” Foster said, a good amount of steel in his voice.
“A little respect, Demon Sword,” Drake said. “Now come here and let me finish healing you.”
Foster took a half step back. “Morrigan is supposed to send a healer.”
“She did. I thought it might foster some trust between us.”
I narrowed my eyes. “That was a terrible pun. Please don’t ever try to make a joke again.”
“What are you talking about?” Drake asked.
“I don’t think that was a joke,” Foster said.
“Let him heal you,” Aideen said. “If he tries anything, he’s not getting out of here alive.”
“My reaper will …”
It was about that time Drake noticed that his reaper, now also in its small furball form, had perched on Vicky’s shoulder.
“My reaper will … affectionately love you to death.” The sheer level of irritation in Drake’s voice made me extraordinarily happy.
“Fine,” Foster said. “Let’s get this done.”
Foster snapped into his Proelium-sized form.
Drake touched his shoulder and said, “Turn around.”
Foster hesitated, but then did as he was asked.
Drake laid his hands near the base of Foster’s wings, where I could still make out some of the discoloration that had been so prevalent the day before. “Socius Sanation
.”
A glow, one I swore was dimmer than Aideen or Foster’s healings, filled the small round antechamber we were standing in. Or at least, the antechamber that everyone else was standing in, until I finally managed to climb back up to my feet. The room only gave a little half spin, and the world seemed to settle back to normal.
Drake let his hands fall to his side as Foster straightened his back and flexed his wings. “And you wonder why I’m not so fond of the commoners. The level of iron in that cell could have killed you.”
“Well, none of them have tried to stab me recently,” Foster said. “That’s a bit more than I can say for you.”
The corner of Drake’s mouth lifted in a small smile. “How are the wings?”
Foster glanced at Aideen. “They’re good.”
Drake nodded. “Caroline and Morrigan are ready.”
Foster eyed the other fairy, but he didn’t thank him. The tension between them was still there, an old Demon Sword and his successor. As much mistrust as I had for Drake, he seemed genuinely concerned for Vicky’s well-being. Considering how many of the Fae I’d seen look upon her with something more akin to fear, his concern gave me some hope Drake might be an ally. But I’d been wrong before.
Drake’s head snapped to the side, and he held his hand out, calling for silence. I listened, but I couldn’t hear anything.
“Not far,” Drake said. “Vampires.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
I thought I heard something as we crept through a corridor off the antechamber. A scratch, or an awkward footstep. I knew I wasn’t the only one who heard it, because the fairies’ swords almost sang out of their sheaths. The pepperbox was a comfortable weight under my arm, but without being able to see what was in front of me, it would be a stupid place to fire the gun. I reached for the focus tucked into my belt and waited.
A dull orange light appeared in the darkness around us, slowly brightening, chasing away some shadows and deepening others. One moment nothing was there, and the next a tall, bulky silhouette stood before what I could now see was a smaller form carrying a partially unsheathed flaming sword.
Drake still stood his ground. “Do you bear loyalty to the king?”
The air rippled around us, and it took me a moment to realize that Drake had imbued those words with some level of magic.
The taller form stiffened. “What the hell does that mean?”
Apparently, the bizarre response was enough for Drake. He sheathed his sword.
The flaming sword grew longer, as more of the blade was unsheathed, and I smiled when I saw the deep outlines of Jonathan’s face. That told me with no uncertainty that the irritated vampire beside him was Dominic, one of the vampires’ strongest enforcers.
“Zola?” Dominic said, stepping forward when Zola increased the brightness of her incantation.
“It’s good to see you, Dominic,” Zola said. “And you, Jonathan.”
The smaller, leaner vampire let the flaming sword drop back into its sheath. “I’d prefer to be in KC. Rumor is that the River Pack has a lead on Vassili, and I owe that vampire much.”
Years before, Vassili had betrayed his own Pit, and slain the vampire known as Alexi. Alexi had been Jonathan’s lover for over a century, struck down by the vampire who was supposed to protect them. Jonathan’s wounds had been physical, mental, and deep.
“I’m glad you’re here,” I said.
The vampire’s eyes flicked to me. “I owe your sister. And Vik has shown himself more loyal to our Pit than any Lord I have known before. That makes us the closest thing to family we can be without you being a vampire. So, yes, I will help.”
The vampire smiled, and let his fangs show just a little. The reflection in the dark corridor was eerie and homicidal in the best sort of way.
“You guys know Vicky, but I don’t think you know Drake. At least not more than him trying to kill us all last year.”
“I’ve heard many tales,” Dominic said. “I suppose it yet remains to be seen whether he is an ally, or lunch.”
Drake tilted his head slightly. He didn’t respond, but I wondered what the fairy was thinking. I knew Drake was powerful, but Dominic was old. And you didn’t live to be an old vampire without being a threat to almost anything that crossed your path.
“Let us leave,” Aideen said. “We need to find Liam, Lochlan, and Enda.”
“If Nudd believes that bunker to be the most secure place in his palace,” Drake said, “it’s quite likely his more valuable prisoners will be there, too. Or at least very close to it.”
“In my experience,” Zola said, “we aren’t that lucky.”
“Let’s go,” Aideen said, and led the way into the darkness.
* * *
The catacombs were quiet. Deathly quiet. It was unnerving, and it didn’t take long for me to realize that not all of the stone and structure we were walking through was made of the pale rock of Falias. Some of it was ancient, appearing to have been carved by crude tools. Whether those tools had been wielded by men, or something else, I couldn’t say.
The tunnels closer to the Obsidian Inn were occasionally lit by torchlight, and while we’d seen one or two lanterns, and old burns on the stone from the soot of ancient torches, there were no lights as we delved deeper into the belly of Falias. There was only stone and shadow and a kind of impending dread that I had not felt in quite some time.
But the cold damp of the underground grew more familiar the longer we spent in it. Zola and I alternated leading the way, and trailing the pack, while Aideen gave us directions. The dull glow of our Illuminadda incantations provided light, but hopefully not so much light as to give away our position.
I suspected we’d been walking for almost half an hour the first time we heard it.
A creak, like an old house settling, but the groan that followed couldn’t be passed off as old timbers, or any kind of natural sound. Something dragged along the floor in a nearby corridor while our group exchanged looks.
“Something else is here,” Drake said.
And even though his whisper had scarcely been louder than the sound of a breath, the dragging in the stone hallways stopped. Silence reigned, and I could hear the blood rushing in my ears as I strained to make out anything in the darkness.
When nothing else sounded in the shadows for the next minute, we continued on, more cautious, perhaps, and certainly more alert. We moved into a larger antechamber, not so unlike the one that had been below the basilisk, but this one was ornate, the walls and ceiling covered in a mad mosaic. Eldritch things wove through blood-red portals while one crowned figure stood in the middle of them all, as if fearless, controlling, or absolutely insane.
“The fall of the Mad King,” Aideen said. “An old piece of art, thought to be lost not long after it was made, in the time of peace after the Wandering War.”
“Wasn’t it supposed to be fake?” Foster asked, squinting up at one of the tentacled creatures on the ceiling. “Just a rumor it was ever made?”
“It was real,” Drake said. “Put together by a Fae who had walked through the portals with the Mad King. He didn’t survive walking the Ways fully intact.”
“Those things?” I said, gesturing up at the tentacled forms in the mosaic. “Those are the creatures in the Abyss. The leviathans and … the others.”
Drake frowned, but nodded.
I pulled my phone out and let my incantation brighten a little more as I started taking a video of the mosaic. I’d almost finished the whole thing, capturing every detail of the leviathans and the Mad King in their center before I saw the shadow.
“Something’s here!” I shouted. I spread my left palm out, letting more power flow to the Illuminadda incantation until it burst to life like a sun. It might have been blinding to the rest of us, but whatever was in the shadow squealed. An emaciated Fae was bathed in the pale-colored light of our incantations. Armor that may have once fit the frail-looking creature hung from a body that was little more than skin and bones and fea
r.
“By the gods,” Drake said, hurrying forward and taking a knee before the creature. “You’re supposed to be dead.”
“Dead? Am I not dead? Dead many years, now. But I have fallen, into the hell the commoners spoke of. Dark things chase me Demon Sword, and these rooms are not my own.”
Drake blew out a breath and looked back to the rest of us. “This is the fairy that made these mosaics. I don’t know how he’s still alive, trapped in a lost room like this.”
“There was still magic,” the emaciated form said. “Until soon, recent I mean, then there was none.”
“The city is no longer in Faerie,” Drake said. “You’re in the land of the commoners now. Lucky to be alive.”
“Then I still live.” The Fae gave an awkward smile and tilted his head down. “Not luck. She brought me through.” The fairy raised his hand toward Vicky before letting it fall back to his side. “Saved many, I suspect. With great power, and great sadness. But you, Demon Sword, I thought you no longer served the Mad King.”
Drake remained silent for a moment. “He’s been dead a long time now.”
“Dead. Dead? As I should be. But I am not. You should not be here. Go, leave this place. There are vampires far worse than these.” His frail hand rose toward Dominic and Jonathan. “Older, primal. Be careful. Live by the sword.”
A small crease formed along Drake’s brow. “If you can follow our path back, we have allies. They call themselves the Obsidian Inn.”
The old Fae nodded. “I have heard them talking. I feared them to be loyal to the king.”
“No,” Drake said. “Find them. The Morrigan is with them. They’ll shelter you until this is over.”
“Can we trust him?” Foster asked.
