Down in the valley, I gripped Tilliag’s mane as the stallion picked his way through the crumbling ruins and draping vines of the crossroads. The place was eerie during the day. At night, it was outright unsettling.
In the darkness, the previously crimson blossoms blushed a pale pink, radiating a ghostly luminescence that lit the moss-covered ground. Mist drifted through the shadowy, ethereal trees, obscuring everything more than a dozen yards away, and I didn’t dare call Zak’s name aloud.
“Do you sense him?” I whispered to Tilliag.
It is difficult to sense anything, the stallion replied, his ears swiveling nonstop. I cannot even detect others of my kind.
Watching his twitchy ears and stiffly arched neck, I hoped his nerves were steelier than the average horse. I didn’t want to get thrown at the first unexpected noise.
We ventured deeper. I recognized none of the mossy paths from my first visit, even though I had an excellent memory for directions. The intersecting trails twisted in nonsensical tangles, the weather-worn pillars with their alien architecture forming unfamiliar patterns. Even Balligor’s small pond was nowhere to be seen.
The crossroads changed depending on the power feeding it, Ríkr had warned me when we’d first come here.
No signs of life disturbed the curtains of vines. Had all the fae that frequented the crossroads fled, knowing a killer stalked this place at night? How many, like Balligor, recognized the Dullahan’s work?
I touched the locket around my neck, tucked under the front of my shirt to rest against my heart. I’d been checking it obsessively since remembering my father singing the Dullahan’s song. He’d always been a singer. So had my mother. All the folk tunes and old ballads I knew, I’d learned from them.
“Darkest death, face him ne’er …” I whispered again. “Without pure gold his stare to sever.”
I hoped the lyrics were accurate, or I’d just ridden to my death for the sake of a man I wanted to murder with my bare hands.
Banishing the thought, I stretched my senses out, hoping to distinguish his presence—or any presence—but all I could feel was the ancient, inhuman power of this place. It shimmered across my mind like a haunting caress.
Tilliag halted. His muscles quivered as he raised his head, ears turning, tracking a sound.
A soft thudding.
Hoofbeats.
I clutched Tilliag, and we waited motionlessly as the sound grew louder. My nerves tightened, fear skittering up and down my spine.
The rhythm of hooves grew closer. I couldn’t tell which direction it was coming from, and my fear deepened into terror. I quaked on Tilliag’s back, air rushing through my nose as I fought the rising hysteria. Unnatural. Unreal. This fear wasn’t real. I didn’t spook this easily. A mere sound couldn’t make me tremble.
Except I was trembling.
The thudding was soft, ominous, everywhere—then it grew quieter. Fainter. Receding.
Gone.
Tilliag and I waited in silence, and when the sound didn’t return, I exhaled harshly. The fear in my gut waned, and I unclenched my hands to shake out my aching fingers. Tilliag blew out a loud breath and tossed his head.
Neither of us commented on how we’d both frozen in terror.
Checking that the gold locket was still around my neck, I opened my mouth to speak.
The scent of death, Tilliag said suddenly.
“What?” I hissed.
I have scented death, he repeated, raising his head to test the air, his upper lip curled. It is close.
“Where?”
He started forward, nervousness clinging to him. I ducked strings of luminescent vines, scanning the crumbling ruins that protruded from the earth like stony stalagmites, covered in lichen and moss. Shadowy, semi-transparent trees towered around us, the mists of the fae demesne drifting among them.
A faint whiff of something foul reached my nose. My gut turned over.
Were we too late?
Tilliag’s ears perked forward. He broke into a trot, the moss muffling his hooves as he rushed through a stone archway and into an ancient courtyard surrounded by crumbling pillars.
He pulled up short.
Across the small courtyard, the dark shape of a man was slumped against the farthest pillar, his dark clothes blending with the deep shadows.
Without thought or planning, I swung off Tilliag’s back. My feet landed silently on the moss, then they were racing forward, carrying me to the fallen man without my command. My lungs strained, empty of air.
My body rushed toward him even as my mind screamed that I didn’t care, didn’t care, didn’t care. I wanted him dead. I wanted it. He should be dead. He deserved to be dead.
So why couldn’t I breathe?
I slid to a stop beside the slumped man and dropped into a crouch, reaching for the hood hiding his bowed head. I shoved it back—and squirming white maggots spilled from the fabric. At the sight of the man’s sunken eye sockets and bloated flesh, the stench of decomposition hit me. I lurched away and slipped, almost falling.
This wasn’t recent death but old death. This wasn’t Zak.
I hated the treacherous relief that swept over me.
Covering my nose and mouth with my hand, I squinted at the corpse. Similar in build to the druid, but shorter. Bald. A thick bristle of brown hair on his rotting chin.
I didn’t know much about decomposing bodies, but I knew the life cycle of a fly. The maggots infesting the corpse were fat from gluttonous feeding. The man had been dead for at least a week, probably closer to two.
I stretched out my hand. Flicking away maggots, I lifted a gold locket off his chest. It wasn’t the same as the one I’d found in Arla’s office; this one was oval-shaped. But when I flipped it open, I found identical photos in the tiny frames.
“Jason Brine,” I whispered.
A hand closed around my arm.
I jerked away from the unexpected touch, glimpsing a human-shaped shadow reaching out from behind the pillar where Jason’s corpse lay. The person wrenched me toward them—then threw me into the darkness between stony columns.
I pitched forward, hands outstretched, but I didn’t meet ground where I expected to. There was no ground. Hidden by the shifting mists, the terrain dropped away in a steep slope. I slammed down on the moss elbows-first, tumbling, careening, unable to stop. The shadows and mist spun, trees flashing past.
The fall lasted only seconds before I rolled to a shuddering halt, sprawled facedown with my entire body screaming.
Behind and above me was the scuffing sound of someone half running, half sliding down the steep hillside. Head reeling with dizziness and pain, I pushed myself up onto my knees and twisted around.
A woman slid the last few feet down the slope, her blond hair pulled into a braid over one shoulder. Recognition was still ricocheting through me when she raised her hand, palm up.
Faint sapphire light. A fae rune on her inner wrist. Blue sparkles filled her hand, almost like glitter.
She flung the magic in my face.
My entire body went numb. I slumped back to the ground, a faint moan slipping from me as a terrible weight settled over my limbs and compressed my lungs. My muscles had turned to straw, my mind fuzzy with the fae magic she’d thrown at me.
Crouching, Laney leaned over me, her lizard familiar perched on her shoulder. Gold earrings framed her face. A tangle of gold chains around her neck. Her wrists jangled with gold bracelets. She’d decked herself out in the precious metal.
Somewhere above, an equine scream shattered the stifling silence. Tilliag, voicing his anger. No horse could make it down that slope. He’d have to find another way—unless he planned to abandon me and search for Zak instead.
That would make sense. He owed me nothing.
“Summit Trail.” Laney’s mouth twisted, her eyes red-rimmed from crying. “If you hadn’t said that, I’d never have realized it. I thought Jason had failed. After I dumped him for his obsession with his stupid plan, did he go r
unning to you instead?”
I couldn’t answer her. My arms twitched as I struggled to move them. She grabbed my ponytail and wrenched my head around so my face pointed toward hers.
“I bet you thought it was just great. The perfect way to kill my mom and get away with it. No one would ever guess.” She angrily wiped away a tear. “I was so stupid, wasn’t I? I didn’t even realize what had killed her, even though Jason told me all about this fae monster.”
More tears ran down her cheeks. “You murdered my mom. Murdered her. Now you’ll pay for her life with yours.” She released my hair, letting my head thunk against the hard ground, and rose to her feet. “You know the urban legend that you can summon Bloody Mary by calling her name three times? Well, it works on some fae too. Jason told me.”
Pivoting, she faced the dark mist. “Dullahan!”
Her high-pitched shout echoed through the phantom trees. My limbs shuddered as I fought to move.
“L …” I gasped airlessly.
“Dullahan!”
“L … ney. St … p.”
She sneered down at me, then threw her head back and screamed, “Dullahan!”
Quiet stillness settled over us in the wake of her cry. She put her foot on my shoulder, pressing down until the joint threatened to pop. “I figured you’d show up after what you said. Did you kill Jason too? He was wearing gold, so it wasn’t the Dullahan, was it?”
The air was thick with humid heat, clogging my lungs.
“No one will ever find your body up here,” she muttered, nerves creeping into her voice. “You’ll die just like my mother did. That’s better justice than anything the MPD would do.”
My throat worked as I strained to speak. “Didn’t … kill her.”
“Why are you denying it? You even came to our house to check she was dead!” She stomped on my shoulder, and a sharp, agonizing crack split my collarbone. “Who else could have done it? Jason? He was already dead! No one else knows about the Dull—”
She jerked back from me and spun toward the dark forest. Her familiar poked his head over her shoulder again, staring in the same direction.
A soft, almost inaudible rustle stirred the shadowy underbrush.
“Dullahan?” she called, fear weakening her voice. “I’ll give you her name. It’s Saber Rose O—”
With a flash of gold, a thin line of light flew out of the darkness and snapped around Laney’s throat. It went taut, yanking her off her feet. She slammed down. Her familiar tumbled across the moss, hissing angrily.
“The Dullahan?” a voice rumbled. “I should’ve realized it. I didn’t know the headless horseman stole hearts, though.”
Shadows coiled around Zak’s legs as he strode out of the trees, his golden whip in hand. His eyes gleamed with iridescent fae power; Lallakai was possessing him.
With a flex of his arm, he tightened the whip around Laney’s neck. “You must be the daughter of the coven leader. Nice of you to join us.”
“Druid—” she choked, shock twisting her face.
“Be a good girl and stay right there. Or …”
From the shadows swirling slowly around him, his two vargs slunk into view. They circled Laney, muzzles ridged and fangs flashing. Her familiar cowered in place, pressing against the ground. Zak flicked his hand, dissolving the lasso spell, but Laney didn’t move, her terrified eyes darting between the two fae wolves.
Zak swept toward me, and I could do nothing as he approached—but even if I could’ve moved, I probably would’ve stayed motionless anyway.
Tilliag had said I wasn’t strong enough to take on the druid, and I finally saw why.
Power electrified the air around him with savage potency. His unnaturally bright eyes pierced my skin as they moved across me. Shadows clung to him, and markings I’d never seen before, black feathers in the pattern of wings, swept down the heavy muscles of his shoulders and upper arms and flared up the sides of his neck, edging his jaw.
The Crystal Druid. This was the man with a reputation of power, even among fae.
Against Balligor, he’d been a strong, cunning fighter. Now, his power scarcely seemed mortal, and he wasn’t even using it. He was merely existing with it. Merely exuding it, like the building static before a thunderstorm unleashed its torrent.
He crouched beside me. His fingers touched my chin, gentle as he turned my face toward him. After a moment of study, he pressed his palm to my forehead. A rush of cold air swept over me and my vision darkened.
I blinked, and my vision popped back in. Strength flooded my limbs, Laney’s fae spell vanishing.
I could move again, but I didn’t. His hand remained on my forehead as his eyes searched mine. Mine searched his.
“Why did you come back?” he asked softly.
“The Dullahan. The only defense against …”
My throat tightened, cutting off my words. My entire body began to tremble, my skin cold, gooseflesh rushing over my arms despite the humid heat. Terror slid through my veins like icy sludge, clogging my suddenly racing heart.
Zak’s pupils dilated with the same fear. His gaze lifted toward the dark trees.
A sound. Quiet. Growing louder.
Hoofbeats.
This time, I knew it wasn’t Tilliag.
I pushed up on my elbows, the sharp pain in my collarbone barely registering. Zak was crouched beside me. Laney was on her hands and knees a few yards away, the two vargs flanking her. All five of us faced the trees as the darkness deepened, as the glow of the flowering vines dimmed, as the shadows shivered to life.
He came from the trees, passing through the semi-transparent trunks as though they didn’t exist. His towering black steed danced across the moss with muted thuds of its huge hooves, its nostrils flaring and eyes burning like hot coals embedded in its skull.
Astride its back, the Dullahan’s ghostly figure was draped in tattered black fabric, his hood drawn up. I couldn’t see his eyes but I felt his gaze—felt it press down on my soul like the hellish touch of Death himself.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
I trembled as the Dullahan examined us. Though he was called the headless horseman, he seemed to have a head. What he didn’t have was a face—there was nothing but empty darkness inside his hood.
His focus settled on Zak. The druid’s spiritual power was honey to fae, drawing them like bees to a flower.
The Dullahan inhaled—that was the only way to describe the way all the air sucked toward him. His monstrous steed stamped a hoof, steam rushing from its nostrils as it grunted deep in its chest.
Your name.
The voice wasn’t sound but sensation—words in the form of jagged claws tearing through my very soul.
Give me your name.
My body went rigid, unadulterated terror obliterating my senses. Cold sweat drenched me, my skin burning, the fire tempered by a single cold spot against my chest.
Speak your name to me.
With whimpering yelps, Zak’s two vargs bolted into the trees. Laney cried out as her fire salamander fled with frantic, scuttling steps. I wanted to run too, but my legs wouldn’t hold me. A step away, Zak bent over, clutching his head, eyes squeezed shut as he panted.
The Dullahan’s deadly attention was fixed on the druid. Lady of Shadow, Night Eagle, Lallakai. Give me your true name.
The feather tattoos running down Zak’s arms blurred. Phantom wings lifted off his shoulders and unfurled from his back, stretching wide. A shadowy form overlaid his body as the black eagle pulled away from him. Lallakai’s emerald eyes gleamed as her curved black beak opened.
Her enraged shriek split the night air as she brought her wings down, propelling herself upward. She swept her wings down again, and blades of shadow slashed toward the Dullahan.
The darkness crawling around him surged up into a swirling barrier. The eagle fae’s attack met it and fizzled away to nothing.
Lallakai, give me your true name.
She let out another piercing cry—then beat her wings. Risin
g into the air. Higher. Even higher, the mists of the crossroads hazing her broad feathers. Her silhouette dimmed, then disappeared.
I stared upward. She … she’d fled?
Beside me, Zak gazed skyward with wide, disbelieving eyes. His mistress, his guardian, had abandoned him.
Druid.
His limbs stiffened. His eyes went blank, pupils dilating wide, the little color in his face draining away.
Druid, give me your name.
His mouth opened, his throat working as though fighting a compulsion to obey. A hoarse rasp escaped him.
Lunging for him, I clapped my hand over his mouth before he could speak—but could the fae drag his name from his mind? The locket on my chest was like a spot of dry ice, freezing against my skin. It was doing something to protect me, but Zak had nothing.
Druid.
Even I felt the crushing power of the Dullahan’s call. Zak shook, his eyes rolling back. He needed protection. He needed gold.
My gaze swung to Laney.
She’d scuttled toward the dense trees, quivering like a frightened fawn, her glassy stare locked on the Dullahan and his black steed—but when she felt my attention, her gaze shifted.
For an instant, our eyes met.
“Her!” Laney yelled, pointing at me. “Take her! Her name is Saber—”
My hand clamped harder over Zak’s mouth, but he wasn’t the person I needed to silence.
“—Rose—”
Zak’s eyes rolled toward me, bright with horror.
“—Orien!”
The Dullahan’s invisible stare turned my way—and his full attention slammed over me. I sagged into Zak, my hand slipping off his jaw.
Saber Rose Orien, give me your life.
The claws that had torn through my soul now pierced my chest. They closed tight, my heart lurching desperately, my limbs convulsing. The power ripping through my innards pulled—but the locket seared my skin, impossibly icy, and the Dullahan’s magic slid away as though unable to get a proper grip.
Zak flung his hand out.
Silver liquid spilled from the vial in his grasp, flying in a wide arc. It splattered across the moss, and smoke boiled up from the points of contact. A stench like burnt oil and rusted iron clogged the air.
The One and Only Crystal Druid (The Guild Codex: Unveiled Book 1) Page 21
