Chapter 21
Althea's research had led her straight to the Hunt's lair in Faerie--which resembled an English manor more than a servant's home. It was a rambling stone structure built into the side of a mountain that did not exist in the human world, and the wild garden around it--ringed by very effective wards--lent the house an air of refined neglect.
She had debated with herself whether or not to risk being seen. Curiosity had won out, aided by the fact that she was, after all, a member of the Council. And like it or not, Gabriel was still bound.
So she had driven home, called Lucas and excused herself from the initial response to the fire, and given herself an alibi by informing him that she planned to join the search.
The wards ensured she could not see inside the house, but she could not tell if they would work just as well if someone stepped out of the house and into the garden. No one was in evidence when she slipped out of the shadow of the trees to approach the edge of the wards, and she saw no sign of habitation.
If there were Hounds left inside, they were not in the garden.
In truth, the house should have been empty, since the Hunt should have been searching for Malachi. But Althea did not dare show her hand just yet. She would take the essence of the wards back to her house and dissect them in the comfort of her own workplace. With the remnants of Josiah's power that she still held, she should be able to find a way through them--or, at the very least, rework them a bit to allow herself passage.
They had been trained to feed from Faerie's currents of magic, a very efficient way to ensure that long-standing wards did not drain the energy from the wizard who created them. That meant, of course, that they would continue, even after Josiah's death.
The strange thing was that the original spell involved was very simple and direct--a child's spell, almost, that had been added to and improved over the years.
But not recently. In fact, they had not been updated for over a decade. That probably meant none of the other Hounds had talent--and that Gabriel would not notice a small revision here or there.
Bolder now, she coaxed their workings out into the open. Perhaps she would not have to go home at all to finish this. She had Josiah's power, still. Could she possibly--
She realized that she was still kneeling at the edge of the garden in plain view to anyone inside. Before she lost her nerve, she closed off her own meager talent and the Council's shared power, leaving her only with what she had stolen from Josiah.
And then, tensed to flee if she failed, she stepped past the wards and into the garden.
Nothing happened. The wards did not shiver. They let her pass as if she were one of their own.
She stood there, breathless, and found herself curiously unwilling to walk away. Now that she had breached Josiah's wards, she wanted more. Without quite realizing she had moved, Althea found herself halfway across the garden.
There was a door in the garden, of course, and a window looking out, but she saw no one and no movement inside. And when she touched the wooden door, it swung open on silent hinges, giving her a shadowy glimpse of the Wild Hunt's domain.
She stepped inside as if in a dream, hardly daring to believe that she was standing inside the Hunt's house. Moving quickly, she determined that the--living room, for want of a better word and what was obviously a kitchen were empty. A pot of stew bubbled on the stove. There were no visible lights, but she had no trouble seeing--some spell, she supposed, but she did not investigate to find out if Josiah had created this one as well. The sun did not reach through the windows quite yet.
A closed door led to a hallway and another door--more than likely the door to the Human World. She did not test that door, just in case Gabriel had left a Hound on guard in the cave.
Silently, thankful of the stone floors that would not creak, she slipped through an open doorway and down another hall.
Gabriel had a library that rivaled the Council's--books in endless rows that stretched far into shadow where the light did not reach. When she approached those far-away bookcases, the light brightened, leading her to believe that it was also responding to Josiah's talent.
There was a mirror hanging at the end of the hall, and Althea had to stare at her shadowy reflection for a moment before she realized just how far Josiah's influence had spread. After all, she was blond, like Josiah, and they were both petite. But the face in the mirror was most definitely not her own.
Would Gabriel think she was Josiah if he returned to his lair before she slipped out? Would she smell like Josiah to the Hounds?
How long would the talent she had stolen last if she continued this deception?
She had taken a dagger from her stash of weapons after calling Lucas. If worse came to worse and she was discovered, she could kill a Hound and escape while the Hunt was in disarray. If she smelled as well as looked like Josiah, then perhaps she could vanish and leave them thinking that she had been a ghost.
There were two rooms on either side of the mirror at the end of the hallway. One was empty--a child's room, complete with a crib.
A crib? Was Gabriel breeding Hounds now?
Only after her mind had registered that shock did she realize that the room was not empty.
A woman stood with her back to Althea, busy folding a pile of tiny baby clothes and baby things. She wore a dove grey gown--Althea couldn't demean it to call it a dress--and her moon-pale hair hung in a braid halfway down her back.
Emle. Gabriel's whore, no doubt, and pregnant with Gabriel's child.
Fury almost lost Althea the advantage of surprise. The Council had been cuckolded by the Hunt for almost an entire century--and they would escape scott-free if she didn't punish them for their crimes. Lucas wouldn't raise a finger against the Hunt--he was obviously compromised.
For a moment, Althea considered attempting to have his membership in the Council revoked, since he probably knew about Emle as well as the Hunt's ability to shift shape. How could he have kept that a secret all these years?
It was the old feeling of exclusion all over again. Althea wondered if the other Council members knew as well. Was she the only one who hadn't been told?
What could she do? Should she kidnap Emle now, and leave the Hunt alone? That wouldn't work if Josiah was still alive--a Hound had to die, regardless.
But where were the Hounds?
Fury briefly colored her vision red. If Magdalen had killed Malachi when she had the chance, this wouldn't be necessary. She could have stayed away as Magdalen had suggested--cementing her alibi for whatever was to happen.
Instead, Magdalen had forced her to risk everything. While she sat in her damned house--her fortress--waiting for the completion of her plans to fall into her lap.
What was she doing about Josiah? Was the damage already done?
A door closed, somewhere ahead, echoing in the silence. Althea slipped into the library and ducked behind a bookshelf as someone walked down the hall--on human feet, not paws.
She saw his face as he passed by the door. A boy, no less, with black hair and pale skin. A Hound. And behind him--behind him, a child. Gabriel's child. She knew that pale hair, that certain set of her chin.
Stunned, Althea slipped down one row of bookcases. There were two children. One unborn, yes, but two! The child seemed to be nine or ten years old, which placed her birth right around the time of Josiah's disappearance. Gabriel had been hiding her for ten years! That meant Emle had been with him for at least as long; she was obviously the child's mother.
Ten years!
Some whisper of her presence must have alerted the Hound, because he paused in the doorway, staring into the library as if he expected to see his Master inside instead of shadows.
"Hello?"
"There's no one there, Seth," the child said, puzzled.
"I thought I heard--" the Hound--Seth, Althea reminded herself--shook his head. "Go on along. I just want to make certain."
For a moment, Althea thought the child would protest, but she only nodded and hurried down the hall, leaving the Hound alone.
Hardly daring to breathe, Althea stepped out from behind the bookcase. She wasn't even certain why she had shown herself until she saw his eyes widen in recognition.
"I don't have much time," she whispered. "Please--do not tell--" What did they call him? "Do not tell our Master."
"Josiah?" The Hound fairly breathed the name.
Althea motioned him inside. He came willingly enough, still wary, but not on guard. No. Not in the comfort of his own home.
"I am not truly here," she whispered. "And I--" she searched her mind for a plausible excuse. "I am very weak."
He seemed to accept that as well, and did not approach her.
"Please do not tell our Master--"
"I won't," the Hound said. "But he may know it anyway--you know that, Josiah. He would welcome you back--where are you?"
"I--I don't know," Althea said, struggling to sound puzzled. "I am--"
"Seth?" Another voice. Another Hound? "Is there someone else here?"
The Hound whirled around, then glanced back at Althea, as if reassuring himself that he wasn't imagining her presence. "No--No one--"
She had not asked him to keep her presence from other Hounds, only their Master. But that would do as well. While his back was turned, she slipped into the shelter of the bookcase and hurried to the very back, out of sight.
She heard him return a moment later, and whisper Josiah's name, but she did not reply.
She had to think.
And she couldn't stay here. Two Hounds, the child, and Emle were too much. She did not want to kill too many of them; after a while, Gabriel would assume he had nothing left to lose.
She had to get him out of the house and into the forest. That was the only way.
With bated breath, she coaxed a thread of awareness into the hallway, and found the Hound--Seth--standing just outside the library door.
With Josiah's power, she breathed his name. He jumped, rabbit-quick, but came willingly enough, his eyes wide.
"Can I tell anyone else?" He kept his voice low this time, so no one else would hear. And there were other voices now, in the living room--more Hounds. Would she have to go out the window?
"No. Not yet." Althea hesitated. What could she give him? "I have--I have news of Jordan. He's alive." She did not show herself this time. Let him think that her power was waning.
"Alive?" She heard the hope in his voice. "Where is he?"
Perhaps she could teach Magdalen a little lesson. Show her that Althea Dunning wasn't just a lackey to be ordered around. "The Daulton House has not been destroyed in Faerie," she whispered. "If you go there--through Faerie--you will find Jordan."
Perhaps she would allow him to see Jordan, just once, before he died.
"I will go," he whispered. "But can I tell--"
"No!" Althea did not mean to raise her voice, and it echoed through the room. "Tell no one."
"But if our Master--"
"If Our Master discovers what I told you, I will not be able to guarantee safe passage for you and Jordan out of the house," Althea said, and prepared Josiah's power to transport her past the wards. "There is--There is a witch involved. And I cannot keep her in ignorance forever." She hesitated, and wondered if she had him. "Jordan must be saved."
Seth nodded. "I will come," he said. "When--"
"At midnight," Althea said. It would take her that long just to convince Magdalen of the worthiness of her plan. And as soon as Seth stepped into the dampening spell, Gabriel wouldn't be able to access the bond between them anyway. Which would give her the slight advantage of surprise. "Tell no one. Please. Jordan's life depends on it."
"I won't," Seth whispered.
There were more voices now. A shout. Hurried footsteps, and a familiar voice.
Lucas? What was Lucas doing in the Hunt's lair? Althea was almost tempted to stick around and find out, but she did not dare risk exposure.
It was almost dusk, after all. Midnight was not that far away.
Seth had turned towards the commotion. Althea took that moment to pull on Josiah's power to slip away unnoticed, past the wards, which did not murmur, and further into the forest before she allowed her Council connections and her own meager power to return.
She kept just a hint of awareness in the library for a moment, to gauge whether or not her makeshift plan had worked.
There was no hue and cry. No Hounds streamed out of the house to Hunt her down. Lucas did nothing. And Seth kept his mouth shut.
Now, all she had to do was prepare for his arrival, and plot the next piece of her plan.
A Hound would die before the new day dawned. And no one--not even the Council--could stop her.
Chapter 22
"I have permission to bring the Healer here," Amalea said, keeping her voice low. "But little else, at least for now, especially since I haven't heard from Eilan since he agreed to go. Once he is healed--"
"You can't keep him here!" Kyren abandoned his chair and stalked towards the windows. "He does not belong here," he said, quieter now. "To keep him here any longer will only anger his Master more."
"You sound as if you know his Master's identity," Amalea stated. "Did he tell you? Because my grandmother is keeping her secret safe, even from my mother. And me."
"He told me," Kyren said. "And no, I'm not going to betray his trust. I've betrayed enough as it is. But we cannot keep him here, Cousin."
"He's right," Mirella said, dropping into the chair Kyren had just vacated. "The sooner you fetch the Healer, the sooner he will be free to rejoin his Master. I'll watch over Josiah--I suggest you choose someone you trust to accompany you, Amalea, just in case you run into trouble."
Kyren swallowed hard. "I'll go." It was the least he could do, after all.
"Not alone, you won't," Amalea said. "We'll go together. I know where the Healer keeps her house."
For a moment, Kyren thought about protesting, but then he saw the glint in Amalea's eyes and knew she would not listen to him. "Very well. But if Magdalen finds us and kills me, will you ensure Josiah is returned to his Master?" He felt tears prick his eyes--tears he dared not let fall, lest they think he had lost his mind again. "Please, Cousin?"
"If Magdalen finds us, she'll try to kill me too," Amalea said. "If you wish to stay here, I'll bring someone else with me."
"No." Kyren couldn't allow her to go alone, even with a guard. "I'll go with you."
"Then go," Mirella said, and made a shooing motion with her hands. "I'm not going anywhere, and the day grows dim. When you return, there will be letters ready to be sent to the Council and the Hunt. And it would behoove us to send the Hunt's letter with Josiah."
"You are sending them a letter?" Kyren choked back the rest of his protest when Josiah stirred and opened his eyes.
"Go," Mirella said without moving her gaze from Josiah's face. "And hurry back."
Before Kyren could finish his protest, Amalea took his arm and pulled him out of the room. "We fought for the letter," she said. "They were intending to force Josiah to tell his Master himself." She cast him a tight smile. "And before you protest at that, remember that my mother and the rest of the royal family do not wish to court anyone's anger because of this. No one knew of his presence, save you and Magdalen. And they do not wish this entire mess to drag down the castle, its inhabitants, or their way of life in Faerie."
"Then Josiah should be with us, and we should deliver him to his Master with out abject apologies," Kyren said, refusing to be placated by her explanation. "Healed or not, this is a delaying tactic, and nothing more. If you knew--"
"Hush," Amalea said as soon as they were out in the hallway. "Speak no more until we leave the castle. That is not the only reason, and Magdalen does have spies."
The sunlight in the Human World stung Kyren's eyes, but he ignored the discomfort as he followed Amalea through the forest. He was content to let her lead. After her comment about spies--and the chilling thought of what Magdalen would do if she knew Josiah was still alive--he tensed at every sound; every rustle.
This was the first time he had stepped into the Human World in years, and the forest had not changed. But as they made their way down some invisible path and their surroundings became more and more familiar, Kyren had to wonder if Amalea had gone this way on purpose.
"I don't remember the Veil this far into the forest," he commented as they walked. "This is near to where--where Beth's father lived." Even after all these years, her name still brought him sadness.
"Yes, I know," Amalea said. "And perhaps the Veil had drifted this far. This was the closest location to Sennet's house. It's not far."
Neither was that huge old house where Beth had lived--in fear--and where he had first set eyes upon her. Almost without realizing it, Kyren started towards the house, only intending to look.
But when he stepped out into the clearing and saw the destruction, he felt something break inside his heart--a little piece of what-once-was now lost forever.
"I will not fault you for wanting to see this, but must you torture yourself forever?" Amalea stepped up beside him. "The smoke's still fresh. This just happened."
"It was--It was a beautiful house," Kyren whispered, and found himself close to tears. "Who would have done such a thing?"
Amalea took his hand. "It could have been anything," she said. "Lightning, perhaps. Vandals. You couldn't expect that it would remain unchanged forever."
Nothing remained unchanged forever in the Human World. But Kyren could not tear his gaze away.
The sparkle of sunlight on the burned remains of the house had the unusual effect of mirage in places, and he caught a glimpse of a window--hanging unsupported above the wreckage--and then a chimney standing tall where one had fallen.
Flowers appeared and disappeared along a gravel driveway that was both visible and overgrown. He would not have been surprised if Bethany Daulton herself stepped out onto the porch to greet him.
"Kyren?" Amalea touched his arm and the vision vanished, leaving wreckage behind. "It is gone now, Cousin. Let's be on our way."
Without replying, Kyren closed his eyes and side-stepped into Faerie.
Which shouldn't have been possible, since the Veil had never come this far before.
When Amalea appeared next to him a moment later, he didn't even glance at her. All of his awareness was focused on the house that stood--quite unblemished--in the clearing twenty feet away.
"What are you--oh." Amalea fell silent as well, staring. "Did you--see this in the Human Realm?"
"Only bits and pieces of it," Kyren whispered, unable to tear his gaze away from the restored house. "I--I'm not quite certain I believe what I see is real." His voice shook.
"Well, if its an enchantment, we've both been taken," Amalea said. "I see the house as it probably looked a hundred years ago. Quite nice, for a human dwelling. What do you see?"
"I see--" Kyren blinked past a spate of sudden tears. "I see the house Bethany grew up in. And it is so real that I would not be surprised if her father appeared on the porch to drive us off."
"Her father," Amalea said. "The one you--ah--" There was no tactful way to put it.
"The one I killed, yes," Kyren said. "But that was much later, after I found out what he did to her. And what he wanted." He shivered, half-fearful that the memories would consume him as his fear had consumed him not so long ago.
"You do realize that by killing Jacob Daulton, you put in motion the events that led up to all of this?" Amalea asked.
"What do you mean?" Kyren asked, finally able to look away from the house. If he walked inside, what would he see? Beth? Or some forgotten ghost of the human he had loved?
"If you hadn't killed him, the Hunt would not have been free for the Council to bind." Amalea took his arm to lead him away from the house. "If the Hunt had not been bound by the Council, then Magdalen would not have any chance to try for the throne or whatever it is she really wants, because they would have been banished long ago."
"And Bethany--and my daughters--would have died," Kyren said. He tried to push past the hurt of her words, since he knew she did not mean to hurt him. "Or gone mad; either way he would have murdered them." He pulled his arm from her grasp. "Perhaps this is all my fault, then, and I was right. The only thing I regret about killing him is that my 'crime' was discovered before I could take both my daughters and Bethany to safety."
He had tears in his eyes again; tears that he blinked away before Amalea could see them. "We should go." But he couldn't force himself to turn away from the house just yet. Not while the memories of Bethany were still fresh in his mind.
"I am not faulting you for your actions," Amalea said softly. "And we must go. If you--"
Kyren saw a curtain twitch in what once had been Beth's room. He started forward before he could stop himself, and stepped into the clearing.
Amalea hauled him back. "Kyren, do you think this might be some sort of trap set just for you?"
Kyren blinked at her. "A trap? Here? Why?" He could not imagine such a thing. Why, he'd visited this very house just two days ago, when Beth's father was away on a trip.
Days? His mind protested at that statement. No, not days--Beth has been dead for over one hundred years--
"You were so fearful of Magdalen before--"
Kyren pulled away from her. "Magdalen?"
Magdalen. Yes. Your former lover, remember? The witch?
His mind knew, but something would not let him speak the words. And he watched--unable to stop himself--as he stepped into the clearing again.
"I'm not sure why you followed me, Amalea, but I have business here," he said aloud, which wasn't anything near to what he wanted to say.
Help--Amalea, help me--
Something snagged his hand and he tried to brush it away, but it clung to him, tenacious. Kyren turned to confront it, and his cousin flung something sparkling around him--a net?--and pulled him forcibly back into the Human Realm.
Kyren screamed as something tore loose from his mind. He fell to his knees on the forest floor, and the net coalesced into a woven web--like a spider's web--that settled over top of him. Protecting him. But from what?
"Spells," Amalea said through clenched teeth. "Damned spells."
Kyren raised his head and flinched away from the sharpness of the sunlight. "What--What happened?"
"Stay where you are," Amalea said to him, then raised her voice. "Don't move the net. It's the only thing keeping you from going back there, and I'm not sure--" Her voice trailed away.
Kyren stared at the ruin of the house. There was--There was a door, hanging in midair where the front door had been, whole and untouched by the fire. Even through the net, Kyren could feel it beckoning to him, which meant that Amalea had been hit by the full brunt of yet another spell.
Thinking seemed to be one of the things affected by the spell--or whatever it had been--because Kyren's mind was mush. "Amalea, don't!"
She ignored him as he knew she would, and stepped into the clearing.
"Amalea!" He struggled to his knees, but the net weighed him down. He did not dare cast it off--not unless he wanted to be caught again.
With the aid of a young tree, Kyren pulled himself to his feet. Clutching the net around him like a blanket, he staggered after Amalea. She did not even turn from her path to investigate his presence.
He caught her arm and pulled her back. "You wouldn't let me go, Cousin. I'm not going to let you go, either!"
With a surprising show of strength, she pushed him away. Her eyes were blank, fixed on something Kyren could not see. "Leave me be, Kyren." Her voice was perfectly modulated.
She had moved, somehow, since Kyren had caught up with her, and now, she reached out for the door, which opened at her touch.
A portal hung behind it, pulsing in the sunlight.
Desperate now, Kyren gathered the net in his hands and flung it over Amalea, just before she stepped through the portal. She swung around, her eyes wide, her face dead white.
Something caught Kyren's arm from behind and hauled him backwards before he could move away. He struggled, briefly, but the spell's power drowned out any protests he might have made and the grip on his arm did not falter.
The door slammed shut.
Kyren fell back onto a hardwood floor, his strength fading as the spell vanished again. He saw double for a moment--two half-familiar grinning men bent over him until they coalesced into one--and then the world--or vertigo--crashed into place. He tried to protest when Stefan took his arm and pulled him backwards across the floor, but when he saw the figure waiting for him in the next room, all coherent thought flew from his mind.
"Ah, Kyren," Magdalen said, a smile illuminating the madness in her gaze. "So nice of you to join us."
This betrayal was too much for Kyren's mind to take. He gaped at her, frozen in place, his mind reeling from the blow of both her spells and her presence in the house. Consciousness trickled out of his mind as if it were a sieve, and he could not stop its progress.
He closed his eyes, too weak to keep them open--too weak to fight--and realized that he would not survive this.
He would not leave this house alive.
Somehow, that thought did not frighten him as much as it should have, and made it all the easier to surrender to the darkness when it rose to carry him away.
(Next Update: October 5th)
House St. Clair Home
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