Heart's Desire, part 29

Chapter 14

Inattention had been the death of many a hiker in the woods, and Malachi knew better than most to keep his mind on the path and not on other things. But when he stepped out of the forest and into a clearing--a clearing that should have been Sennet's stone cottage--he knew that something was very wrong, because the house in the clearing was most definitely not Sennet's house.

For a moment, he thought that he might have lost his way and doubled back on his own trail, but the house that sat in the clearing was not on fire. In fact, as he studied it from the shelter of the forest, it looked--whole.

It was the house he had just seen in ruin. The shape of the chimney and the porches could not belong to its twin. Surely not.

My lord, something-- He opened the bond automatically, or tried to, but nothing happened. His Master's presence did not appear. The bond had vanished from his mind, leaving a strange, aching emptiness behind.

But it was not broken. No one had died. Malachi doubted he would have been able to miss that kind of pain.

So that meant a spell of some sort, blocking the bond, perhaps the same way Josiah's kidnappers had blocked--

Malachi's thoughts stopped cold. Perhaps it was the same way Josiah's kidnappers had blocked the bond! He wished he knew more about magic so he could study it, and try to find a way to combat the spell. Even now, his mind struggled to contact his Master, even without the bond's familiar presence in the back of his mind.

With narrowed eyes, he studied the house.

There were no outward signs of habitation. No lights shone from the windows; there were no cars in the curving driveway and no furniture on the porches to show that the house was occupied. The flowers in the beds along the driveway were strange, though; gold and silver and shining in the sunlight.

Had he somehow slipped past the Veil into Faerie? But how would the house exist in two places at once?

Malachi tested the bond again, out of habit more than any hope that his Master would reply. What if--and this was a plausible thought, in truth--what if Jordan had somehow slipped into Faerie as well? And what if he waited in that house, not realizing the danger?

He had taken two steps into the clearing before he realized he had moved. And as he crept across the clearing--there was no real cover for him to hide behind--he wondered what would happen if his Master tried to open the bond and found him gone.

Malachi froze with his foot on the bottom step of the front porch, imagining his Master's rage. Should he risk his Master's anger to double check that Jordan was not inside the house? He could do a quick search and leave as quickly as possible. If he found Jordan, then perhaps his Master would overlook the dampening spell's effects.

The front door swung open at his touch, and Malachi stepped inside. What had been warped floorboards now shone in the sunlight, and the Oriental rugs that protected the floor were of fine quality and weave. There were trinkets on dark, polished tables and a glass-fronted bookcase along one wall.

And in the parlor, the eviscerated body of an elf lying in the middle of one of the rugs, his empty eye sockets turned towards the windows, his mouth gaping in a silent scream. Bloody gobbets of flesh glistened in the sunlight, as if whatever had--whatever had eaten him had been interrupted in its feast.

Suddenly wary, Malachi took a step backwards.

"Leaving so soon?"

The voice was female, cold and calm, but with an undercurrent of anger that reminded Malachi of his Master's fury.

Before Malachi could flee, someone grabbed his arms and wrenched them backwards. A black Hound appeared out of nowhere, snapping at his feet; Malachi tried to kick it, but a knife pressed across his throat soon disabused him of that notion.

"It would not be a good idea for you to move," his captor whispered, his breath reeking of blood.
The dead elf's body vanished in an instant. Malachi blinked, and a woman stood in its place--a woman dressed in red who seemed both familiar and strange. He stared at her, hardly daring to breathe.

What would his Master say now?

There were more of the black Hounds now--three more, all growling at him. Someone else stood on the other side of the room with her arms folded; Malachi did not realize who she was until she spoke.

"He is a Hound? Are you certain, Stefan?"

"I am as certain as I am certain that your hair is not naturally that yellow," Stefan snapped. "He is a Hound."

Malachi closed his eyes. What was Althea doing here? She was a member of the Council. This was worse than anything he could have imagined. Much, much worse. It would be best to die now at their hands instead of waiting for his Master to kill him later, if he managed to escape.

The knife vanished. Stefan shoved him forward, and he tripped over the edge of a rug and fell at the woman's feet.

He had to swallow twice before he found enough courage to speak. "I don't know what he's talking about. I'm sorry, but you have the wrong person."

The woman laughed. "Oh, no. Stefan wouldn't lie to me. How long has your Master allowed you to shift shape? I was under the impression that the Hounds were just that--Hounds."

"As was I," Althea said darkly. "Does Lucas know this little tidbit?"

"I'm sorry," Malachi said again, his throat dry. "I--"

"Stefan." It was an order, but Malachi didn't realize what it meant until a black Hound attacked, sinking its teeth into his arm before he could even think to defend himself. He cried out and twisted sideways as another one snapped only inches from his face, and another one sank its teeth into his shoulder and pulled him down. He kicked and fought them, but when the fourth one's teeth closed over his throat, he lay still and closed his eyes, waiting for death.

He had almost shifted. But that was what they wanted: proof that he was a Hound.

"Wait." The woman's voice spared him, at least for the moment. "There is an easier way to do this. Stefan, pick him up."

Malachi's legs buckled when Stefan hauled him to his feet. "I am no Hound," he whispered, barely able to force the words past the panic that had lodged in his throat. He felt blood slip down his arm--no doubt dripping on the floor where the elf's blood had been.

"I saw you shift a century ago," Stefan whispered in his ear. "I saw it."

Malachi closed his eyes. He remembered Stefan now, and remembered his doom; the accident that would now be his death. "I'm only nineteen," he whispered without much hope. "Surely if I were that old--"

"Silence!" The woman approached him now, her voice cold. "I can truthspell you, Hound. And I will do it if you don't stop lying to me."

"Do it anyway," Althea snapped, and spoke the words of the spell. "No. I'll do it. As a member of the Council, I'm entitled to know these things. Does Lucas know you can shift shape?"

Malachi fought against the spell, but it fastened its teeth in his mind as effectively as the absent bond. He bit through his lip in the effort to stay silent, but he knew it was only a matter of time.

"Does Lucas know you can shift shape?" Althea asked again.

The spell drove daggers of pain inside Malachi's mind. It was almost akin to the pain when his Master had torn his memories out of his mind, but this pain held an almost--familiar flavor.
As if Althea was using someone else's power to do this. Or was it the Council's shared power? Was the familiarity Lucas Lane?

"Answer me!" Althea shouted, and backed her words with power.

Malachi sagged in Stefan's grasp. "Yes."

"You fought well," the woman said, almost purring now. "But it's really hopeless. Are you one of Gabriel's Hounds?"

"Yes." The word slipped past his lips without a single effort on his part.

"How long has he allowed you to shift?"

He could have explained. About Josiah, and what had happened when he disappeared. He could have spent the next ten minutes telling them everything, but he realized after a moment that he didn't have to explain. The truthspell only wanted the truth. A simple answer. Nothing complicated.

"Since this morning."

Stefan shook him. "That's a lie! I saw you shift before!"

Malachi remained silent. The truthspell prodded him to defend himself, but Stefan's words had not been formed into a question.

"It is quite obvious that Gabriel did not allow him to shift when you saw him," Althea said, and Malachi heard some sort of triumph in her tone of voice.

"How long will it take for your Master to find you gone from the bond you share?" the woman asked.

Malachi stared at her. She knew about the bond as well? A part of his mind laughed at his surprise. Of course she knew. Why else create the dampening spell?

"I don't know," he whispered, which was the truth. "It could be minutes. It could be hours."

"Then we will not keep you," the woman said, ignoring Althea's shout of surprise. "Return here in two days. And remember nothing of this. Nothing."

"What?" Althea had left her spot by the wall now, her face suffused with rage. "Magdalen, you can't just let him go!"

The name Magdalen seemed familiar, but Malachi could not think through the fog that spread through his mind. He stared at the woman who stood in front of him, his eyes wide.

"Who--Who are you?"

"Impressive," Stefan murmured behind him.

"He won't remember a thing," Magdalen said. "And he will return here in two days. We don't want Gabriel to get suspicious--not yet, at least. We have two weeks to ferret out the Hunt's secrets."

"But you told me to kill one Hound and kidnap another. What about that?"

"Silence!" Magdalen's voice rose. "We have time, Althea. Plenty of time. This will work out better than I had ever hoped."

Darkness swam in front of Malachi's gaze now. He blinked and tried to clear his sight, but the darkness persisted. He couldn't see Magdalen anymore--or Althea. He couldn't hear their voices.

Whose voices?

"What about his wounds?"

Desperately, Malachi tried to fix something of this in his mind--in the hope that his Master would discover its presence and tear away the fog. But he couldn't seem to grasp it--any of it--and the darkness swirled around him, dulling his hearing as well.

"Hounds heal fast. And he won't know what happened. Even Gabriel cannot pierce my spells."
"You sound very certain of that."

"I am."

Chapter 15

"I regret that I have to contact you in urgency," Lucas had said when he called. "But there was a child living in the house, and I'm worried that he still might be inside. Can you come?"

And of course, Sennet had come. Only later did she find out that Jordan was living in the burning house with the Council's blessing--and that he was only ten years old.

Her presence, of course, had been useless. She's sensed no sign of Jordan earlier when she met Malachi and Emle at the very same house, and yet Malachi had claimed he was there. That meant Jordan had probably developed a talent the Council did not know about, and that also meant he might be very hard to find.

Even Gabriel's Hounds might have difficulty tracking him down--if he were still alive.

She had stayed with Lucas until the sun had risen, and then she had walked back home with an invitation to join Lucas at the house the next day--to see if they could find Jordan's body.

It had been years since she'd stayed up all night. And at first, when she saw Malachi sitting on her doorstep, she thought her eyes were playing tricks on her, but when he stood, uncertainty and fear plain in his gaze, she wondered if something had happened to change his Master's mind.

"I am--" His tongue tripped over the words. "I am to tell you what I could not tell you before." He held himself stiffly, almost as if he were in pain.

"With your Master's leave?" Sennet had wondered, after meeting Gabriel, if Malachi was, somehow, his Hound. But she did not know enough about the Hunt to answer her own questions, and asking Lucas had not seemed the right thing to do.

Malachi nodded. "He said that if something happened to Emle, he would rather you know now."

It was a wise decision, considering how cautious they had been yesterday morning. "Then let's go inside, where my wards are the strongest." When he hesitated, she smiled at him. "I can make some tea, if you'd like."

"Thank you," Malachi whispered after a moment of indecision. "I--I would like that."

He followed her inside and stood in the doorway for a moment, staring at the inside of her house as if he had never seen such a sight before.

And she noticed that his clothing was torn in places, and that he favored his right leg a little. "Are you hurt?" She felt no pain from him, only confusion and--dread.

"No, I--" His leg buckled, and he lurched against the kitchen table. "I don't know."

Sennet slid a chair under him, and he collapsed, burying his head in his hands. That movement made his sleeve slide up, and she saw a puncture wound on his arm--still seeping blood. "What happened?"

"I don't know." He stared at his arm as if seeing the wound for the first time. "I don't remember this--"

"Let me heal you," Sennet said, offering him her hand.

He shrank away from her. "No. I should--I should tell you what I came for first."

Sennet sat down across from him. "Then tell me. But let me heal you afterwards. Please."

Malachi rubbed his throat. There were marks there as well, but fading fast. "If my Master--"

"You have to get permission to be healed?" Sennet's voice must have risen more than she wished, because he flinched a little at her tone.

"I--" He shivered. "I'm sorry. I don't know what happened. The last thing I recall is coming here, and I don't think I was attacked on the way." He tried to smile, but his smile did not reach his eyes. "I think I would have remembered that."

"Your Master didn't--" Sennet tried to fish around for words that would not anger him. "You weren't punished?"

Malachi shivered. "No." He stared at her, his eyes wide. "My Master--What would be the point of punishment if I forgot what I was punished for?"

"You're hurt elsewhere, aren't you?" Sennet prodded. "Your leg?"

"Hounds heal fast," Malachi whispered, and then froze.

"You are a Hound, then," Sennet said gently.

"Yes." He rubbed one hand across his face. "We all--We all have human forms."

"I see," Sennet tried to fit her mind around her impression of the Wild Hunt and the Hound sitting in front of her. "And Emle is--?"

"Emle is our Master's lady, of course," Malachi said, frowning. "Our Master saved her life, long ago, and she--well, she left for a while. But then she came back." He rubbed his arm again. "Can I--Can I use the same words Emle used?"

"You can try," Sennet said.

Malachi nodded. "Know nothing more than I would have you to know, then," he said, and extended his hand across the table.

When Sennet took his hand, she found that his wounds weren't nearly as bad as she feared. They were healing already, as he had said, Hounds healed fast. But she helped them along a bit, and by the time she was finished, Malachi's face had regained a little of its color.

He licked his lips. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Sennet said. The phrase had worked again--she knew nothing other than what he had already told her. "Would you like some tea?"

"If--If it isn't a problem," Malachi whispered.

"Does Lucas know about this?" Sennet couldn't imagine such a secret being kept a secret for very long. She filled the teapot and turned on the stove, setting out two earthenware mugs in the process.

"Yes."

"But no one else knows? Why didn't he tell the rest of the Council?" Sennet returned to her seat to hear his reply.

Malachi waited a moment to answer, as if he were waiting for a prompt. Or a response from his Master. It was obvious that the Hunt had some sort of bond, after all; how else could Gabriel send his Hounds to search the forest and not keep them under some sort of control?

"Is your Master listening to us?" she asked.

"Not now," Malachi said. He seemed to be a bit more relaxed now, as if the initial telling and the healing of his mysterious wounds had loosened some of his tension. "I asked him why Lucas never shared his knowledge with the rest of the Council."

"And?" From what she knew of the Council, keeping secrets was not something the rest of its members would look kindly upon.

"He said because Lucas is an honorable man," Malachi said as if he didn't quite believe that explanation. "His uncle knew as well."

"And you've kept this a secret from everyone else for how long?" Sennet asked.

"Almost a century," Malachi whispered. "A century in less than two weeks, now."

"Midsummer's Eve," Sennet said. It made sense now--Emle's worry, Malachi's cryptic references.

"Yes." Malachi seemed to struggle with what he wanted to say for a moment, but Sennet didn't think he was arguing with his Master. There was no fear in his gaze at the moment. And surely Gabriel would not punish him for obeying his order. "We were not--permitted our human forms after Josiah disappeared ten years ago."

"Josiah disappeared?" Ten years ago had been right around the time that she had found Emle in the forest, and subsequently delivered Eri, who was, of course, Gabriel's daughter. How could such a thing happen and no one be the wiser? "What happened?"

The teapot's whistle saved Malachi from replying, but only for a moment. As Sennet turned to pour hot water over the teabags, he continued the story.

"Josiah was a student at Darkbrook," he said. "He--He had a wonderful talent for magic, and our Master allowed him to attend classes for almost two years before he vanished. After that--" He had to take a deep breath to continue. "After that, we were not allowed to shift shape until last morning when Eri removed the constraints our Master placed on me, and Emle asked if she could visit you."

"You've only been human for a day?" Sennet asked, marveling that he had functioned so well. "And Eri did what?"

"It was a long day," Malachi whispered, and accepted the mug of tea when she handed it to him. He sipped it in silence for a minute, his eyes closed against the steam. "Eri wanted to know why I couldn't shift shape like she could. I tried to tell her, but she didn't listen."

Sennet studied him without speaking. He certainly seemed not to hold any animosity against his Master for forcing him to stay a Hound for the past ten years. "What did Lucas do when Josiah vanished?"

"Lucas--He--When Josiah vanished, our Master suspected the Council," Malachi said, opening his eyes. "I--I disobeyed him and went to Lucas' house in human form, hoping that Lucas would tell me the truth."

"Without your Master's permission?" Sennet asked, trying to imagine the cool, collected Gabriel she had met losing his temper. It was a horrifying thought. "What did he do?"

"He--" Malachi took a sip of tea, but his hand was shaking now, belying his reaction to her question. And then, stiffly, "It is enough that you know. I am not to tell you our entire history." He pushed his chair back and stood, carefully not meeting her gaze. "I should go."

"No, please," Sennet said, suddenly fearful that he would be punished for telling her too much. "That was my curiosity, nothing more. I have no need to know. Please ask your Master if you can stay a little longer."

Malachi bit his lip, but the news must have been promising, because he sat back down. "My Master says I can stay for a little while longer. They have found no sign of Jordan in the forest."
He picked up his mug again, and stared into its depths as if reading his fortune. "My Master was not--pleased--with me."

From his tone of voice, Sennet knew he was leaving far too much to speculation. But what could she do? He was not her responsibility, after all. And he was in no present danger as far as she could tell. His fear of his Master was not new.

"But you never found Josiah?" Would Jordan's disappearance end the same way? Did anyone care about him as much as they had obviously cared about Josiah?

"We found no sign of him," Malachi said. "No trail, no blood, no spells to mask his leaving. He just--vanished."

And the Hunt had retreated, Sennet thought. Gabriel had refused his Hounds their human form, and they had limped along for the past ten years, or, at least, until Emle wished to see a Healer. And then Gabriel had changed his mind. Eri had grown up in the midst of all this. What did Gabriel think of his precocious daughter?

And now Eri would have a sister.

"Can you tell me what Lucas said?" Sennet asked, hoping that this question would not anger Gabriel. "He must have convinced your Master that the Council was not involved."

"He swore to me that he knew nothing," Malachi whispered. "Josiah was to be his pupil. Lucas swore--" He stopped, then, and closed his eyes, listening to a voice only he could hear. "My Master says that of course he suspected the Council. Josiah had been chosen to study advanced magic, and my Master thought that Lucas might attempt to remove Josiah from my Master's influence. But Lucas denied any involvement, and my--my Master believed him, because Lucas has always been an honorable man."

Sennet hoped that his trust was in the right place. The Council would have been her first suspect in such a disappearance, but since Josiah had not been seen for a decade, she doubted they were involved. Still, she could ask Lucas about him and listen to his version of the story.

"Tell your Master that I will not betray his trust," she said.

"He says thank you," Malachi reported. He tipped up his mug to stare into the bottom, then set it down on the table again. "I should go."

This time, she thought he spoke for himself and not for his Master. "If you need anything, you'll let me know? If Emle needs anything?"

"I think I will be allowed to come," Malachi said, and pushed back his chair again. "Thank you for listening, Sennet."

"You're welcome," Sennet said. She wanted to smile at his serious tone of voice, but the Hunt's trust was a very serious thing.

And Gabriel had not impressed her at being a very trusting person.

She let Malachi out the front door, and watched as he slipped into the forest. Only after he had vanished did she realize just how tired she was.

But if she slept now, she would never manage to sleep at night. Sighing, she closed her front door and walked into the kitchen to drink the dregs of her tea and contemplate what she now knew about the Wild Hunt.




(Beginning October 1st, I will be posting daily until my birthday on October 14th, which will be the last chapter and the epilogue!)



House St. Clair Home

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Heart's Desire, Part 28

Chapter 13

Kyren awoke to murmuring voices nearby--Amalea and someone else. For a moment, he couldn't imagine why Amalea was in his rooms, but then he remembered Magdalen's present.

Josiah.

He opened his eyes and found himself in one of her chairs, his body covered by a finely worked quilt. His neck ached from the odd position he had fallen asleep in, but his mind felt refreshed--an improvement over the past few weeks. Perhaps the lack of wine had something to do with that. After all, he'd spent the last three weeks drowning his brain in alcohol.

Josiah still lay in Amalea's bed, his eyes closed and sunken, the bandage around his hand wet with blood. He was not awake as far as Kyren could tell. Which meant that Amalea had involved someone else in this--with a whispered oath, Kyren turned around to see who it was.

"I could not deny my grandmother entrance to my rooms," Amalea said, as if she expected him to protest.

Mirella was ancient, even for an elf. A tiny, bird-like woman with bright blue eyes, she had relinquished the crown to Amalea's mother many years before. That had not stopped Amalea's mother from naming her as Second to the Queen, which was a powerful position, indeed.

"Kyren, it is good to see you doing the right thing for a change," Mirella said, her tone of voice taking the sting out of the words. "I believe what Amalea has told me. And she believes you."

Kyren had to swallow twice to wet his throat. "That's a blessing," he said, "because I am not certain anyone else will." He glanced back at Josiah. "Has he--"

"Not as yet," Amalea said before he could finish. "Grandmother thinks we should summon a Healer for him."

It was past dawn, and the sunlight shone outside. But Amalea's rooms were still dim, no doubt to spare Josiah the pain of the light. After all, he had not seen sunlight for ten years.

"It would be disastrous if he died, especially now," Mirella said. "Do you even realize--no. Of course you don't. I have my doubts either Magdalen or this Althea person even knew who he was."

"You--You know?" Kyren asked, tearing his gaze away from the windows.

"Yes. But he'll have to tell you, since I promised someone long ago not to mention it." She sighed, as if remembering--and, perhaps, regretting--that long-ago promise. "It will suffice for me to say that he is not as young as he seems."

That gave him no clues, but Kyren supposed she hadn't intended her words to give him anything. He supposed he was lucky, even then, that she hadn't thrown him into the dungeons to rot like Josiah had for ten endless years.

"If we summon the Healer--" Kyren struggled to find the right words to ask his question. "Won't she insist on contacting the Council?"

"Healers are neutral," Amalea said with some impatience. "You know that, Kyren."

"Yes, but even in this instance?" Kyren asked. "This isn't some battle, or a simple wound. He was held prisoner in this castle for ten years!"

"I hope you aren't suggesting we keep him prisoner for another decade," Mirella said sharply. "Because if you are suggesting such a thing, I will begin to think that you've taken leave of what little senses you possess, Kyren. Josiah's place is with his Master, not us."

"His--His Master?" Kyren asked, his mind racing. He only knew of one 'Master' of anything, and that was Gabriel. But surely--surely that would not be possible.

Mirella pursed her lips. "I will say no more."

Kyren knew better than to pursue that line of questioning. "Did you--Cousin, did you tell her what Magdalen desires?"

"To control the Hunt?" Amalea asked. "Yes. We were discussing what to do to warn Gabriel when you woke up."

"It is what she desires once she controls the Hunt that concerns me," Mirella said. "Do you know, Kyren? She can't think that the Council will allow it--"

"They won't be able to stop it if she has her way," Amalea said. "And she could force the Hunt to hunt the Council."

"You intend to warn the Hunt?" Kyren shook his head. "We have no treaty with the Hunt. Gabriel could just as well--" All at once, he could not think of what Gabriel might do in response to the news of the plot against him. "And what of the Council, then? Shall we warn them as well?"

"It would be advisable to warn Lucas," Mirella said. "I knew his great-uncle, Peter, and I've spoken with Lucas before. He is a honorable man."

Kyren slumped in his chair. What would happen to him once the secret was out? "I will go ask the Healer to come, since this is my--"

"Kyren, this is not your fault." Mirella stood and crossed to where he sat, her gaze both firm and concerned. "And I believe you would do best to stay in the castle for the time being--at least until we know you will be safe."

He should have expected this. They wouldn't want him to leave the castle. This was just a pretty way to look at imprisonment. "Of course," he whispered, and huddled in the chair. "Am I to be allowed to stay in my rooms? Or will the dungeons do?"

"You can keep Josiah company until he's well enough to leave," Mirella snapped. "And stop feeling sorry for yourself. You're being pardoned, Kyren. You should be pleased!"

She stopped beside the bed and stared down at Josiah. "If I had known--" Her eyes were suspiciously bright when she glanced back at Amalea. "Is there someone in the castle you trust enough to send, Amalea? I'd rather you stay as well. Your parents will want to know a bit of this, and Kyren can stay here, just in case he awakens."

"What of the Hunt and the Council, then?" Kyren asked. "I feel as if I should do something to atone for this. I--I knew he was there three weeks ago." He glanced up at Mirella. "I should do something."

"You are doing something," Amalea said. "No one is blaming you for this, Kyren." She bit her lip. "I could send Eilan."

"Then do so," Mirella said. "The quicker he is healed, the sooner we can contact the Council and the Hunt. We have a little time, I think."

"I hope," Kyren whispered, staring at Josiah again.

Amalea left then, too intent on her mission to notice Kyren's fear.

"Kyren, you will worry yourself into an early grave." Mirella placed one hand on his shoulder. "While your part in this was not small, you have acted honorably. Even Gabriel will not be able to ignore that."

"I feel that there is something more I can do," Kyren said, frustrated. "That sitting here is--"

"Sitting with him is the best thing anyone can do at the moment," Mirella said. "Amalea's wards are in place and active, so do not leave this room."

"I won't," Kyren said, but even her assurances did not make him feel any more useful.

"I will be back soon," Mirella said.

When she was gone, and the silence in the room grew too loud for him to bear, Kyren pulled a thin reed flute from his belt. It wasn't finished yet--he'd abandoned it soon after Magdalen had summoned him to her rooms--but with the little penknife, he could finish it now.

The simple act of carving soothed something deep inside his soul. And when it was finished, he put it to his lips and began to play, hoping against hope that this small effort would enter Josiah's dreams and help him remember that he was no longer alone.



Next Update: September 28


House St. Clair Home

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Heart's Desire, Part 27

Chapter 12

Althea was in the library when the call came in about the fire, puzzling through a stack of documentation about the Wild Hunt. Most of it had been catalogued a long time ago by Lucas Lane, but there were still various journals and diaries of long-dead Council members that had yet to be touched.

Without risking a few exploratory trips to the Hunt's lair, she wanted to create a map of some sort that would help her plan her attack. However, she wasn't having much luck with the diaries of her predecessors--they had been inclined to leave the Hunt alone.

Her first potential clue had come from a very old map of what had then been Daultonsville, and a notation in the margins of said map, that a cave with a direct door to Faerie existed somewhere in the forest. The author of the note had not written what lay on the other side, but the cave's location was very near--as far as she could tell--the modern location of the Hunt's lair.

Did the Hunt have a house in Faerie?

Not a single Council member since then had bothered to see where the Hunt spent its time. For all Althea knew, Gabriel could have a palace deep in the heart of Faerie, laughing at his Masters behind their backs for almost an entire century.

The sheer enormity of what he could be hiding squashed her urge to research before acting. She wanted to summon Gabriel into her presence and force him to talk--and since she was a Council member, he would be bound to tell her everything, if there was anything to tell.

But that would also play her hand too soon, and put him on the defensive.

She didn't want the Council to renew the binding, after all; she wanted to force him to bind himself to Magdalen.

When the call came about the fire, she was tempted to ignore it, but Lucas would wonder why she hadn't responded and she needed to keep a low profile until the Hunt was bound again. So she drove out to the burning house, only to find it vastly changed from what she expected.

There were no fire trucks, for one. And no fire, either. The driveway--which hadn't existed in years--curled around the house like a sleepy snake, and the lighted windows sparkled.

Strange flowers bloomed on either side of the driveway--golds and silvers and reds that glowed in the light of the fading moon. It was almost dawn, after all, and the sun would drive away the darkness soon enough.

Althea parked her car and stared at the house. For a moment, she wondered if she'd somehow wandered into Faerie, but the Veil was a mile away at least, and this house had been in the same spot for almost two hundred years.

And yet, there was no fire. No flames. Just a house, restored.

She wasn't very surprised when a black Hound walked out of the front door and onto the porch. He shifted shape as she opened her car door, and bowed.

"Magdalen requests your presence."

Stefan always managed to twist the most mundane request into something obscene. Althea had never liked him.

The blood on his shirt gave her pause. She stared at him for a moment and tried to gauge his mood. Every once in a while, he would actually answer her questions.

"I was called about a fire," she said. "Is there--What did she do?" And what did this have to do about her plans?

"Magdalen will explain," Stefan said shortly. "And you're keeping me from my dinner."

He offered her his hand, but she shrank away from the blood that covered his skin. "No thank you."

With a leer, Stefan led her to the restored front door, opened it, and ushered her inside.

Magdalen sat in the parlor on a delicately carved chair upholstered in what looked to be raw silk. She wore a red gown, of course--Althea had never seen her in any color but red. Her hair was braided with strands of jet and emeralds, her jewelry equally fit for a Queen. Her chair was in front of a window and she stared in rapt fascination at the darkness outside.

The--the gored remains of an elf--she saw one pointed ear still attached to its skull--lay on the rug in the middle of the floor. Gobbets of flesh littered the rug and Stefan's Hounds, four black monstrosities, lay around the room, licking the remains of their feast from their fur. The smell was even worse than the sight. How could she stand it?

"Althea. So nice of you to come."

Althea swallowed hard, fighting the urge to vomit. Was this some sort of test? When Stefan walked into the room behind her and liberated a chunk of something from the floor--and popped it into his mouth--she had to turn away.

"Stefan, remove the remains of your meal." Magdalen's gaze held no warmth in it. "It is obviously bothering Althea."

"Let it bother her." Stefan shrugged.

With a sigh, Magdalen motioned with one hand and the body vanished, leaving a spotless Oriental rug behind. "Is that better, my dear?"

Althea tried to decide if she spoke out of honest concern, or if there was a bit of sarcasm running through her tone. She faked a smile despite the residual nausea, steeled herself, and walked across the rug where the worst of the carnage had been. Thankfully, nothing squished under her feet.

"What did you do?" she asked. "How--"

"I was in need of a place to stay," Magdalen said. "Stefan found this house for me. It was not--ideal, but it will do."

"But--what about the fire?" Althea asked.

"The fire does not burn in Faerie," Magdalen said. "Stefan's dinner was a regrettable sacrifice. I had to have fresh blood to move the Veil, and the human boy's blood just would not do."

"Human boy?" There were treaties between the elves and the Council, of course, and one of them specifically forbid the elves from kidnapping humans. "What human boy?" On the tail end of that, she asked, "And how did you move the Veil?" She glanced back at Stefan as she asked this, but the expression on his face gave her no clues.

Magdalen dismissed the boy with a wave of her hand. "Don't fret. I've taken care of him. Don't you want to see my handiwork?"

With a bit of trepidation, Althea looked out the window.

The wall was on fire. Flames had spread across the empty window--empty even as her mind insisted she was looking through unmarred glass--and engulfed the porch to her left. The grass outside was seared and burning in places, and a fire truck was parked in the same spot as her car, giving her a head-aching dose of double vision.

She jumped, despite herself, when a portion of the wall fell down, raining stones and burning wood and obscuring her view of the proceedings.

When the flames died down, she saw Lucas standing well away from the fire with a girl Althea didn't recognize.

"I believe her name is Sennet," Magdalen said before she could ask. "She's a Healer."

"Why did Lucas send for her?" Althea asked, and then remembered Magdalen's comment about the human boy. "Who is this 'boy'?"

On the far side of the clearing, Ben, one of the junior members of the Council, appeared, walking quickly towards Lucas and Sennet. He spoke to them for a moment, pointing back at the forest, and then Althea saw someone appear out of the trees, hanging just on the edge of the clearing, as if waiting for Michael to return.

Or, perhaps, waiting for Sennet, because the Healer hurried towards the waiting figure instead of Ben.

"Who is that?" Stefan asked.

"I'm not certain," Magdalen said. "Why don't you send one of your Hounds out to follow him? And bring the boy."

Althea squinted at the figure through the screen of the fire. She couldn't see him very clearly, even then, but he certainly did not look familiar at all.

One of Stefan's hounds vanished into the hallway, presumably to do Magdalen's bidding. The others ignored the proceedings. Stefan vanished as well, and Althea heard him walking up the stairs.

A moment later he returned, dragging a tightly bound young boy behind him.

"Ah, yes." Magdalen stood up from her chair, smiling, as if she received him as a guest and not a prisoner.

The boy's single eye was red-rimmed and panicked, and a gag similar to the one she had fashioned for Josiah blocked all notion of sound from his lips.

"This is the human boy?" Althea asked. Under the dirt and grime, he looked halfway familiar, but she could not place him. Was he a student at Darkbrook? That would be disastrous!

"He's a telepath, or so he says," Magdalen said. "Can he read your mind, Althea?"

The gag vanished from the boy's mouth. He coughed, drew in a breath, and tried to twist away from Stefan's grasp.

"Damn you," Althea snarled, recognizing him. "Magdalen, if he escapes--" There was no way to block Jordan's talent from reading her mind. The Council had tried, many times, and failed to help him control his talent.

"He won't escape," Magdalen said calmly. "Jordan, I shall leave the gag off if you do something for me."

The boy was shivering helplessly, even though it was quite warm in the room. "W-What do you w-want me to do?"

"Stefan, bring him here." Magdalen waited until Stefan had dragged Jordan to the window, and then pointed outside. "I want you to read their minds. The red-haired boy talking to Sennet. Who is he?"

She did something to the window that zoomed in on their faces, like magical binoculars.

Jordan stiffened as soon as she pointed him out. Althea could almost see the lie forming on his lips.

"You've seen him before, haven't you?" she asked. "Where? Who is he?"

"I--I don't know," Jordan whispered, crying now. "I saw him here. In this house, early this afternoon. He met Sennet."

"For what reason?" Magdalen asked. "And what is his name?" She smoothed down his hair when he did not reply. "It would not do for you to anger me, child. If you do as I say, I will not harm you."

Althea wondered if she spoke the truth. And if she did not, could she stand by and watch Magdalen kill a human child? Even one such as Jordan?

Jordan glanced over his shoulder at her, his eyes wide.

Althea glared at him. Of course he had heard that! Aloud, she said, "What is his name?"

Jordan closed his eyes. "His name is Malachi. I don't know anything else about him."

"Can you read his mind?" Magdalen asked.

"N-No. My--My talent only works on humans." He was shivering again, his face pale despite the darkness of his skin. "I don't know anything else about him," he said, almost desperately.

Which made Althea think that he knew something else. "You said he met Sennet here. She's a Healer. Why would he meet her here and not at her house?"

"Because he was hiding something," Magdalen said. "Of course."

"I don't know what it was," Jordan whispered.

Magdalen smoothed his hair again. "I think you do." She grabbed him from Stefan's grasp and pushed his face against the windowpane. "Do you see what is happening in the human world? Do you see the flames? All I have to do is let go of you and you will be dead, child. Burned to a crisp. They might find your body; they might not. But you will not survive the flames."

Jordan's sobs were the only sound in the room for a moment, He struggled in Magdalen's grip, but the ropes held him tight.

At first, Althea thought that he would not answer her; that he would not give up whatever he knew. But when a pane of glass cracked in the window, letting in a gust of searing hot air, he melted. Of course. A child was no match for Magdalen, after all. And he was merely a child.

"T-There was a lady with him," he sobbed, and fell to his knees when Magdalen released him. "An elf lady. She--She is going to have a baby, and she wanted S-Sennet to--to make sure everything was okay."

"What is her name?" Althea asked, ignoring the discomfort that was the part of her not entirely certain about torturing a child to get any sort of information.

"Emle. Her name is Emle." Jordan cringed away from Magdalen when she reached for him again, but she only handed him back to Stefan, who made no move to take him. In fact, Stefan was staring at the window with a very odd look on his face, almost as if he, too, had recognized Malachi.

"Can you read Sennet's mind?"

"N-No," Jordan whispered.

"But she is human!" Althea protested.

"She is a Healer," Magdalen said. "I doubted he could, but it never hurts to ask."

"What about Lucas?" Althea asked as Gabriel stepped out of the trees to join Lucas and Ben.
Malachi had already vanished; Sennet was on her way back to the group.

Jordan glanced at Magdalen. "He--He's thinking about someone named Josiah."

"Why is he thinking about someone named Josiah?" Magdalen asked as Althea furiously shoved all thoughts of Josiah Hunt from her mind.

"He--He always thinks about Josiah when he sees Gabriel," Jordan whispered. "He always thinks about how things could have been different, if Josiah had not--" He frowned. "He disappeared, I guess." He glanced at Althea. "He's also wondering where you are."

Althea felt her face flush. "You do realize that we can't let him live, Magdalen. You're going to force me to murder a child."

Magdalen dismissed her fears with a wave of her hand. "He will be useful yet," she said. "Child, what else is Lucas thinking?"

Jordan's eyes filled with tears. "He--He's thinking about me."

"Very well." Magdalen sat down in her chair. "Stefan, take him away."

"You--You can't just keep him here!" Althea tried to keep her voice steady, but it rose with every word. "What if he escapes?"

"Where would he go?" Magdalen smiled. "If he leaves this house, he will be lost in Faerie. He will not escape."

Althea couldn't understand how the house could exist in two places at once--and in one of those places, it was burning down. She glanced out the window again and saw that Sennet and Gabriel had vanished, and Lucas now stood alone, staring at the house while the firemen doused the rest of the flames with their hoses. Althea imagined that the destruction would look even worse in the daylight.

She heard a movement behind her and saw that Stefan had returned. He hesitated in the doorway for a moment, as if debating whether or not to speak.

"Magdalen, can you entice him here?" His voice held none of its usual sarcasm.

"Who?" Magdalen turned to stare at him.

"Malachi." Again, Stefan hesitated, and the Hound he should have sent to follow Malachi slipped into the room, glancing once at its Master before joining the others.

"I thought Magdalen told you to send a Hound after him?" Althea asked. "Why--Do you know who he is?"

"Yes."

For a moment, Althea did not believe him. But the look on his face--

"Then who is he?" Magdalen snapped.

"Entice him and I'll tell you," Stefan said, his voice oddly intense. "Put a dampening spell up around this house first--you'll need it. If you don't--"

"Who is he?" Magdalen asked again.

Stefan exhaled. "He is one of Gabriel's Hounds."



Next Update: September 21st


House St. Clair Home

Read more!

Heart's Desire, Part 26

Chapter 11

"Malachi, wake up."

His Master's voice was soft and free of anger, but Malachi flinched anyway, a residual response to the reason his head still hurt.

For a long moment he could not comprehend why he heard his Master with human ears and not the ears of a Hound. Or where he lay, or why he felt cold stone beneath him and not the sandy comfort of the cave.

He groaned and opened his eyes, wincing away from the dim light.

Gabriel stood above him, his face--his face was not blank. It wasn't quite concerned, either, but almost--almost worried.

"I--I decided to allow you your sleep, for a little while," he said, his voice low. "Emle is asleep. And I sent Nathaniel away."

Malachi's heart sank. "My lord, I swear I didn't see or sense him--" He wished--just once--that he could defend himself against his Master's anger. Not that he could win free of Gabriel in a fight, of course. But it would be nice to have some sort of ability for defense.

"Hush," Gabriel said. "Hear me out. I do not intend to punish you for this again." He held out his hand, and for a moment, Malachi couldn't imagine what his Master wanted him to do.

"Let me help you stand," Gabriel said gently.

Malachi blinked and took his hand, but his legs threatened to collapse when he tried to stand on his own. He did not protest when his Master half-dragged him to the kitchen and lowered him down in a chair.

There was--food on the table. Apples, and pears, and cans of chicken and tuna and beans. A cooked chicken in a plastic case. A package of hot dogs. A loaf of bread.

"Eat," Gabriel said. "It will help."

Malachi picked up an apple, but his throat locked with the first bite. He hunched over the table and forced himself to swallow. By the time he took a second bite, he was crying too hard to chew.

He did not understand such kindness. Fury was familiar--at least now, after Josiah's disappearance had changed everything--but kindness reminded him of the days Before, when he would not have hesitated to approach his Master with a request.

He had even dared to argue with him once or twice back then, and had lived to tell the tale.

"Malachi--" Gabriel sighed, as if he wished to say more, but couldn't bring himself to say the words. "I--I am at fault for your pain. I did not trust you, and I am sorry for that."

The apple dropped from Malachi's hand and rolled off the edge of the table. "I--My lord, I am your Hound. But I would rather be a Hound, than have this--" He motioned to the room around him, the food, the clothes he wore. "Than have this taken away from me again." He closed his eyes, certain that his Master would resort to fury again to punish him for his insolence.

Instead, he heard a strange hissing sound, and a moment later, smelled hot tea and honey and milk.

"Drink this," Gabriel said, and pushed a mug into his hands.

The tea did help to loosen the tension a tiny bit. Malachi breathed in sweet steam, sipped the hot brew, and opened his eyes.

Gabriel sat across from him now, cutting up the chicken with an ancient knife. It was such a strange sight that Malachi almost dropped his mug of tea, but he rescued it at the last second with only a small amount spilled.

"You will eat this," Gabriel said, and pushed a plate of bite-sized chunks of chicken across the table.

Malachi's stomach growled. "I--"

For the first time since Malachi awoke, his Master showed some signs of impatience. "Malachi, eat. Don't make me force you."

With shaking fingers, Malachi took a piece of chicken and popped it into his mouth. He ate steadily for a little while, only choking on a piece or two when the panic tried to clog his throat.

When the plate was empty and his tea grown cold, Gabriel poured him a new cup of tea and cut up an apple. By that time, Malachi's headache had faded and he no longer felt in danger of falling over if he tried to stand.

"Dawn is an hour away," Gabriel said quietly. "I believe you made a promise to Jordan to return by then?"

Malachi gaped at him. "But--my lord--"

"Emle was right," Gabriel said. "And I was wrong. A ten-year-old child should not live alone in this forest." Before Malachi could speak, he continued, his voice still calm. "I give you leave to tell him what you deem necessary. If he refuses to come, then all I ask is that you inform him that he will be placed under our protection--whether he likes it or not."

"Yes, my lord." Malachi tried not to smile. If Jordan refused to come back with him, he could just imagine what the child would have to say about being watched over by the Wild Hunt.

"I will leave you in peace to speak to him," Gabriel said, and stood. "But if you are in need of my aid--"

"I will use the bond," Malachi said, and pushed back his chair. "Thank you, my lord."

"Thank Emle," Gabriel said, turning away from his Hound. "She was the one who made me see reason. She was the one who changed my mind."

"My lord, may I take some fruit for Jordan?" The boy's stores had been meager enough, without fresh fruits or vegetables.

"Take as much as you wish," Gabriel replied. "And do not delay. Dawn will come soon enough, and if you have to track him through the forest, I fear you may not find him."

Malachi took an apple, which was enough, he thought, for an offering of peace. When he walked out of the kitchen and into the living room, his legs were only a little weak and the headache only a memory.

Nathaniel--in Hound form--was asleep in the cave but he awoke and shifted shape as soon as Malachi appeared.

"You are well?"

"I am to bring Jordan back if he will come," Malachi said, not at all certain how Nathaniel would respond to that news.

Nathaniel growled. "That's not what I asked! Malachi--"

"I am well," Malachi said, relenting. "Our Master's Lady convinced him that he was wrong and she was right."

Nathaniel blinked in surprise. "He--He said he was wrong?"

"He apologized, too," Malachi said, and shivered. "I told him--I said that I would rather stay a Hound than have all of this taken away again." He plucked at his shirt and stared down at his bare feet. "And I'm alive. Still."

"And what did he say?" Nathaniel asked.

"About what?"

"About--" Nathaniel leaned against the wall of the cave and folded his arms. "About staying human. And what about the others?"

"He didn't say." Malachi glanced out at the forest. Perhaps it was cruel for Gabriel not to have answered that question, but at least Malachi could hold onto hope for a little while longer. "I have to go. I promised Jordan I'd be back by dawn."

"Hurry back," Nathaniel said, and sat down on the sand. "Be careful."

"I will," Malachi said, and stepped out of the cave into the dark forest.

It would have been faster, of course, to be in Hound form for the journey, but his Master had not specified and Malachi wanted to treasure every moment he spent as a human this time, just in case--just in case something happened again that changed his Master's mind.


He did not smell the smoke until he was almost to the clearing, but the strobing lights from the fire trucks and the roaring flames were hard to miss.

Malachi stopped at the edge of the trees and stared at the burning mass of what had been a house mere hours before. There must have been a driveway off the road somewhere, because the firemen and women had managed to get two trucks into the clearing. He dropped the apple and froze in place, staring.

He saw a small blue car, too, and Lucas Lane, standing off to one side talking to Sennet.

It had been years since Malachi had seen Lucas. The Council Historian was still an old man, even older now, his dependence on the gnarled cane he still carried growing stronger every year.

There were no other Council members in evidence, but that didn't mean they weren't around. With the utmost of care, he inched back into the trees and opened the bond.

My Lord, there has been a--a complication. Gabriel could look out of his eyes if he wished, but his Master chose to rely on Malachi's word.

Lucas just called me, he said through the bond. To search for any sign of Jordan, since he fears that he was in the house when it started on fire.

It wasn't on fire when we left, Malachi said, staring at the flames from the safety of the forest.

I know, Gabriel said. Wait for me there. Keep yourself hidden; there could be searchers in the forest even now.

Even though the house was made of stone, when the supports to the upper floors gave way, a portion of the wall crumbled, throwing up a wall of flame that the water from the fire hoses could not touch.

Malachi stepped forward before he realized he had moved, trying not to imagine Jordan lying dead--burned beyond recognition.

"Friend or foe?" a voice asked behind him. "And let me warn you if you say foe, I am a member of the Council."

Careful, Malachi, Gabriel cautioned through the bond. Speak only as much as you need.
Malachi turned slowly, his hands outstretched in front of him. "Friend, of course," he said, struggling to mask his sudden fear. "I saw the lights and smelled the smoke."

"And came to investigate?" The young man--human--behind him had red hair and pale, freckled skin. Malachi had seem him once or twice, but he did not know his name. "May I have your name?"

My lord?

Tell him, Gabriel replied. He will be suspicious if you do not.

"My name is Malachi." All at once, he was glad of Sennet's presence. "Sennet knows me--I visited her house this morning."

My lord--Lucas knows I am a Hound. He knows my name. What would happen if Michael told Lucas of his presence, and Lucas then unmasked him as a Hound?

Gabriel hesitated. I know. But he gave Malachi no suggestions.

"Would you mind if I checked that out before I allow you to leave?" Michael asked, his voice still pleasant. "You're not in any trouble, but there was someone living in that house, and we can't seem to find any sign of him."

"Of course I don't mind," Malachi said, and was certain that he heard his voice shake. "But I--I would prefer to stay here, if I may. I give you my word I will not run away."

Michael looked as if he wanted to argue, but he nodded instead and started across the clearing to where Lucas and Sennet watched the flames.

They were too far away, and the roar of the flames too loud for Malachi to hear what Michael said, but Sennet immediately turned to stare into the trees when Michael motioned to where Malachi waited.

After a short discussion--in which Malachi had the impression that both Lucas and Michael had been outvoted--Sennet walked away from the fire and towards the trees. Alone, although Lucas was staring into the trees now, the expression on his face both curious and apprehensive.

Be cautious, Gabriel said through the bond. I am close.

Malachi did not want to meet his Master while in human form and pretend not to know him. There would be no possible way for him to succeed in that sort of deception.

"Malachi?" Sennet stopped twenty feet away, still in the clearing. "Do you know anything about this fire?"

What should I tell her, my lord? The dark sky grew lighter, now, as the sun's light touched the destruction. Had Jordan waited? Or had he fled as soon as he saw them vanish into the forest? Where would he have gone?

The truth, Gabriel said.

"No. The house wasn't on fire when we left." He hesitated, then stepped out of the trees. "But we--we met Jordan." There should have been a trail, somewhere, if he had left the house. Unless he had other talents in addition to his telepathy.

"So he was here," Sennet said. "He must have a talent to conceal himself, because I didn't sense him at all this morning."

"My lady Emle wanted him to come back with us, but we had to ask permission first," Malachi said, tensing as Gabriel stepped out into the clearing near Lucas and Michael.

My lord, I cannot work such a deception!

No one is asking you to, Gabriel said. Tell Sennet what you know, and leave. The others are already searching for Jordan.

All of the others, my lord?

I left Thomas with Emle and Eri, Gabriel said. You can return home and guard them as well.

"You had to ask permission from your Master," Sennet said, following his gaze. "What did he say?"

Malachi tore his gaze away from Gabriel. He did not want Sennet to get suspicious, even if she was a Healer, and neutral. "That is why I'm here," he said. "I came to see if Jordan wished to have a safe place to sleep."

"That was very noble of your Master, to offer to take him in," Sennet said. "I didn't believe Lucas at first when he told me he had allowed a ten-year-old boy to live in the forest alone. I think he would be interested in what you have to say, though. Will you speak with him?"

"No!" Malachi took a step back, towards the trees. "I--I can't. I have to go."

"This is a matter of life or death, Malachi," Sennet said. "I can't sense a thing inside that house. If he's in there, we'll never know. If he's not--" She sighed. "Gabriel's Hounds will be looking for him."

"They already are," Malachi whispered, then froze as he realized what he had said. "At least--I assume so, since they're not with their--"

"Their Master?" Sennet said when he could not finish his sentence.

Malachi dropped his gaze to the ground. "Yes."

Careful, Gabriel cautioned through the bond.

Does it truly matter? Malachi asked before he could stop himself. Since she will know when your daughter is born?

"Healers are wholly neutral," Sennet said quietly. "I would not betray your trust if you give it to me."

Behind her, the fire raged higher as another wall toppled, bereft of any supports. One of the chimneys had already fallen, but another one still stood tall, despite the flames.

Not here, Gabriel said.

Yes, my lord. Aloud, Malachi said, "My trust is not mine to give." He stepped back, prepared to flee. "I am sorry, but I have to leave."

"I will tell Lucas what you said, then," Sennet said. "If you see anything, will you contact me? Please?"

Of course, Gabriel said through the bond.

"Of course," Malachi whispered, relieved.

No one challenged him when he turned to move off through the trees, but he felt Sennet's awareness at his back, watching him until he vanished from her sight.

She suspects, Gabriel said.

I am sorry, my lord. It was an automatic apology. Automatic, too, was the fear that bubbled up into his throat as Malachi waited to be punished. He closed his eyes.

She was bound to suspect, I think, Gabriel said after a moment. And you are correct. She will know soon enough.

Malachi opened his eyes. The forest blurred around him, and he blinked furiously to drive away his tears. How long would this last? What if something happened to Emle and Gabriel refused to allow them to shift ever again?

Perhaps-- Gabriel hesitated for so long that Malachi wondered if he had meant to speak at all. She seems like an honorable person, and Emle likes her. And Lucas heard your name. He is dying to ask me why you were in human form.

Yes, my lord.

I give you leave to tell her, Gabriel said. You may go to her house before you go home, and tell her who--and what--you are. If something happened to Emle--

Malachi did not even want to consider the thought.

If something were to happen to Emle, or Eri, or any of you, then I would rather Sennet already know, Gabriel said. I will be with the others, searching the forest, but I have my doubts we will find him.

"I hope you do," Malachi said aloud.

Gabriel did not reply.


Next Update: September 14th

House St. Clair Home

Read more!

Heart's Desire, Part 25

Chapter 10

Jordan did not intend to fall asleep. He had packed the rest of his things, which truly did not amount to much, and gathered his small store of clothing from one of the upstairs bedrooms, but waiting for Malachi to return had taxed his reserves, and he had fallen asleep.

He had also lied to Malachi and Emle. Lucas had told him to stay near the house and he had not ventured far from its safety, especially during the night.

In truth, he was a little afraid of the dark, especially this far from the comforting glow of streetlights and the normalcy of civilization. He would never last in town, of course; the din made it difficult to think, much less function.

That was how he had ended up at Darkbrook, after all. And even there, he had been treated with caution; almost fear. No one liked having their innermost thoughts exposed.

He stared at his pile of possessions, and then at his backpack and duffel bag, which was all he could carry at once. He would have to leave some things behind. He could only carry so much.

His leg hurt from his fall down the stairs, but he ignored the pain and packed half of his clothes, taking care to wrap his breakable supplies inside his shirt and pants.

Malachi and Emle had asked him to wait until dawn, but he knew they wouldn't return. No one wanted him. It hurt to admit that, but he should have been used to rejection by now.

He glanced out the kitchen window at the darkness beyond and shivered. Perhaps he should wait until dawn. In daylight, the forest was much easier to navigate. And surely Malachi would not return.

A soft sound in the hallway caught his attention, and he froze in place, his hands clutching the folds of a t-shirt as he stared beyond the door. The light of his portable lantern would give him away for sure--he had not thought to be cautious.

He quickly turned it down and off, just in case, and tiptoed to the door.

His night vision was next to nil in the darkness, but he had lived in the house for long enough to know the locations of most of the piles of debris. The chunks of plaster that lined the hallway were new, however, and he stubbed his toes more than once as he inched down the narrow corridor.

There was someone standing in the parlor. At first, Jordan thought the figure was a trick of the moonlight that shone through the shattered window frames, but when the figure moved, he drew back and struggled not to breathe.

"There are Council wards around this house." The voice that came from the darkest corners of the parlor held no warmth at all. Jordan shivered.

"We'll have to work around them," the figure standing in the moonlight said. "But that is all. This house has been abandoned for quite some time. And it is close to our--prize."

"But is it close enough to the Veil?" The woman appeared from the darkness, her gown sweeping across the glass-littered floor as easily as if she strode through a garden. In the moonlight, her hair was jet black. "It takes power to move the Veil, Stefan. And more power to fix it in place."

"It is less than a mile away."

They were obviously not human, Jordan thought, with their talk of the Veil. He knew there were elves in Faerie, of course; everyone knew that. And from their flowery talk, Jordan suspected that they were both elves.

"A mile may well be too far," the woman snapped. "I will not have my plans destroyed because you were not intelligent enough to find a dwelling close enough to the Veil for my purposes!"

"The only house that fits that purpose is the Hunt's lair, and that is unfortunately occupied." Stefan growled at her anger. "Do not blame me for losing your place in Faerie. I warned you. Many times."

The woman turned to stare at him. "It is only a minor setback to our plans," she said. "And this will do. For now."

"My Hunt needs to eat," Stefan said. "They will not be pleased to exist on humans. Elvish blood is like fine wine. Human blood is vinegar."

Jordan pressed one hand over his mouth to stop himself from whimpering. He was human, after all. And what Hunt? This man--this was not Gabriel. Jordan had seen Gabriel once before, at a distance.

The woman sniffed. "Exist on animals for the moment. We do not want the Council to get involved." She drifted around the room again, and Jordan scrunched himself into a tiny ball to escape her notice. "Are you certain this house is not occupied? I sense--" She vanished through the doorway into the kitchen and out of Jordan's view.

She would see the pile of his clothing, and the rest of his supplies, and then she would know that he was there.

He closed his eye for a brief moment to gather his courage, and then jumped to his feet.

Stefan shouted, but Jordan had already passed the parlor doorway and was on his way to the front door--and freedom. He slipped on a chunk of plaster and fell against the wall as something dark and deadly flew past him and blew out one of the remaining windows on the door.

Glass rained down on the warped floorboards. The door itself burst into flames, the dry wood crackling in the sudden heat.

Jordan pushed himself away from the wall. He took a step towards the door and felt the woman's hand close over his arm--she'd appeared on his blind side--to pull him back. Panicked, he kicked at her and tried to twist away, but she spoke a spell that turned her fingers to writhing ropes that curled around his arms and legs until he could not move.

Then she let him fall, as if he did not matter.

"A human. A human child, Stefan."

"I--" Before Stefan could stutter his apology--if he intended to apologize at all--, he jerked back as if she had hit him. "Magdalen--"

"I did not give you leave to speak my name," the woman said. "Especially in front of our little eavesdropper." Ignoring the glass on the floor, she hooked one finger in between the ropes around Jordan's legs and dragged him into the parlor. "What shall I do with you, then?"

"Please--Please don't hurt me," Jordan whispered, his throat dry. He had wanted to scream, but no one would have heard him anyway. The house had no neighbors. A refuge had suddenly become an isolated prison.

"What are you doing here, child?" Magdalen's voice oozed with sudden warmth. "Did you run away from somewhere? Is anyone looking for you?"

Jordan struggled against the ropes. Her fingers had returned to normal, but if she could make ropes come out of them, then what else could she do?

"I--I live here," he whispered, and felt something slice into his shoulder.

Magdalen turned on Stefan, who had crept up behind her. "He lives here, Stefan! He lives here!"

Stefan's lip curled. "He--He wasn't here when I first visited this house." He was--almost--bowing now, as if he wanted to sink to his knees but didn't dare because of the glass.

"What is your name, child?"

Names were important. Jordan knew that, but he also knew that she would hurt him if he didn't tell her. "J-Jordan. My name is Jordan." His vision blurred with tears.

"Why do you live here, Jordan?" Magdalen bent down over him and cupped his chin in her hand. In the light of the fire, Jordan saw that her hair was dark red, not black. And her eyes--her eyes were cold enough to promise him death.

He would have rather faced the Master of the Hunt than be forced to look into her eyes again.
"I--I have a wild talent," he whispered. "The Council cannot help me, so they sent me here to live."

"And what kind of wild talent do you possess?" Magdalen asked, her voice still sweet.

Jordan bit his lip. "I'm a telepath." He couldn't read their minds; his talent worked only on humans. But he had a feeling it wouldn't matter to Magdalen, since she no doubt intended to kill him anyway.

"I see," Magdalen said, and released him. Jordan's head slammed against the floor hard enough to bring tears to his eyes.

"Ah, yes." Stefan had regained his composure now. His grin was full of sharp white teeth. "I've heard of him. The Council fears his talent."

"Then he could be useful," Magdalen said, and turned towards the parlor again. "We have a lot of work to do, Stefan. Put him somewhere safe."

By the light of the flickering fire--which had spread now to the front wall--Jordan saw someone else in the parlor. But this person's fate seemed to be sealed already. He sat in a battered wooden chair, bound hand and foot, his head lowered to his chest.

"No, wait," Magdalen said as Stefan hauled Jordan up by the ropes wrapped around his chest. "Wait. I want him to see this. I want him to know my power."

"Is that wise?" Stefan asked, dropping him again.

Magdalen shrugged, then seemed to notice the flames for the first time. Their reflection danced in her gaze as she watched them. "Hmm."

"If you burn down the house, you won't have much of a sanctuary," Stefan commented, following her gaze.

"I won't be burning the house in Faerie," Magdalen said, and called up a wind so the flames would spread faster.

Stefan dragged Jordan into a corner of the parlor and left him lying in the middle of a pile of debris. Jordan lay petrified for a long moment as Stefan and Magdalen gathered around the person in the chair, but they seemed content to leave him alone.

For now, at least.

Neither Stefan nor Magdalen seemed to have a problem working in the dark. The moonlight and the flames illuminated the parlor enough for Jordan to watch their actions, but he truly did not realize what they had done until Magdalen held a thin dagger up to the light and then plunged it into her prisoner's chest.

Jordan heard a high keening sound coming from somewhere, but didn't realize it came from his own throat until Magdalen turned and threw a spell at him that smothered his voice.

The spell was worse than a gag. He could still breathe, but no sound escaped from his lips.

Panicked now, he fought the ropes, struggling to win free before she killed him too.

"Can you read my mind, Jordan?" Magdalen asked abruptly, turning on him.

Her gaze was so--so scary that Jordan squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head, not wanting to see the glittering madness in her eyes.

She laughed, a terrible sound. "So your talent has limits after all. I'm surprised the Council did not think to test it."

The fire was spreading now, across the front of the house, burning every inch of wood that had survived the test of time. A gust of hot air blew down the hallway and stinging embers settled on Jordan's skin.

Magdalen did not seem to notice, or care. Stefan glanced at the flames once or twice, but he, too, seemed unconcerned.

"My Hounds still need to eat," he said when Magdalen slit her prisoner's throat.

"You can have his body when I'm done with him," Magdalen said, and tipped her prisoner out of the chair. "There will be plenty of meat left on his bones for your Hounds."

"And the boy?" Stefan glanced at Jordan, who tried not to tremble at his gaze.

"He may be useful, yet," Magdalen said in a tone of voice that brooked no argument.

Stefan stepped aside, now, to let her work.

Jordan tried not to watch as she opened her prisoner's veins and let his blood pool on the parlor floor, all the while muttering something--a spell?--under her breath. Her long skirt trailed the blood all over the floor, but again, Magdalen did not seem to notice, or care.

The flames continued to spread. Jordan closed his eyes against the heat, unable to escape.

His first indication that something had changed was when the heat vanished. The flames were still there, but they were--fainter now, as if he saw them through--well, a Veil.

The house changed, too. The broken glass on the floor faded away and the windows were whole again. The plaster hanging from the ceilings repaired itself, and elaborate lamps appeared, hanging from the stripped fixtures on the ceilings and walls.

The floors regained their luster, and warped boards flattened and stabilized. There was stained glass around the front door now--the flames were gone. A beautiful Oriental rug appeared out of nowhere under Jordan's body, stretching the across the parlor floor and covering up what was left of the blood.

Outside, it was still nighttime, but the forest had a luminescence now, as if the very leaves of the trees glowed in the dark.

Jordan had never ventured far enough into the forest to cross through the Veil between the Human World and Faerie. Lucas had warned him about the Veil, and taught him how to notice the subtle signs that he had crossed the ever-shifting line.

He had not, however, mentioned that a structure could exist differently in the Human World and Faerie, as this house now did.

Quite suddenly, he realized that the fire still burned in the Human World, and that if Malachi did return, he would find the house in flames and Jordan nowhere to be seen. What would he do then? Give up? Return to his Master empty-handed?

Shadowy furniture had appeared in the parlor now, and as he glanced down the hall, he saw that the kitchen looked very different as well. On the other side of the hallway, the missing spindles on the staircase were back, and the whole dusty banister gleamed as if it had been newly polished.

"This will do," Magdalen said, and the transformed house shivered at her words.

"Impressive," Stefan said. He vanished from Jordan's sight for a moment, his footsteps echoing on a wood floor that shone in the lamplight.

Jordan shivered too. Would she kill him now? Or were there--things that she could do with a human boy like she had done to her prisoner?

If Malachi returned, would he think that Jordan was dead? Would he even bother to look for him? Would Lucas?

"And now, for you," Magdalen said, and suddenly, she stood over him, the glittering madness in her gaze muted now. "You cannot read my thoughts?"

Jordan shook his head.

"Does your talent only work on humans, then?"

He nodded, desperately. Would she keep him alive for that reason? Did the elves have any dealings with humans?

"Hmm."

A black Hound appeared in the doorway, followed by four others and their Master--Stefan. The Hounds fell upon the body, growling and snapping at each other like a pack of wild dogs.

Magdalen watched them with pursed lips. "I would have rather they eat outside," she said. "But it doesn't matter now; we're beyond Council awareness at the moment."

She smiled at Stefan, who watched his Hounds with a hunger of his own. "Do not hesitate to shift on my account. I will take care of our guest."

Stefan took her words as invitation, and shifted shape into a large black Hound. Jordan watched with wide eyes as he approached--and the others slunk away, giving him top choice of the feast.
He saw the prisoner's face--as yet unmarked by the Hounds' hunger--and his delicately pointed ears, now stained with blood. An elf. It seemed wrong, somehow, that his first sighting of an elf would be this.

He could not watch when Stefan tore out the elf's throat.

Magdalen vanished for a moment, moving too quickly for Jordan to track her progress. When she returned, she lifted him easily with a handful of rope and dragged him up the stairs.

Which were, of course, magically restored. The bedroom he had been sleeping in was a girl's room now, with a canopy bed and light, airy wallpaper. A lamp burned on a small table beside the bed, and for a moment, Jordan thought he saw a small figure asleep under the covers.
It must have been a trick of the shadows, however, because when he blinked, the figure vanished. And Magdalen did not mention it.

There was a closet in this room, and it had been a narrow, dusty place choked with decaying clothes and mouse nests. He had left it alone, because the floor was rotten and full of holes. Now, it housed only air and a pair of old-fashioned shoes lying forgotten in the far corner.

Magdalen pushed him inside the closet and shut the door. A moment later--even though there had been no key in the lock--he heard a key turn and a lock engage.

And then, faintly through the thick door, the click of Magdalen's footsteps as she left him alone in the darkness.



Next Update: September 7th

House St. Clair Home

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Heart's Desire, Part 24

Chapter 9

The sun had set by the time they reached the mouth of the cave, and Gabriel's absence did not bode well for his mood at their return. Malachi had rushed her through the forest, almost panicked at the thought of being out after dark, but Emle could only move so quickly with her ponderous stomach.

She stopped him just inside the cave. His muscles were taut with tension, quivering as he forced himself to stand still beside her.

"You've done nothing wrong," she said, struggling to keep her voice light. "Nothing at all. You did what your Master requested--I am home safe."

"That remains to be seen," Gabriel said from the doorway in the back of the cave. "You were gone for the better part of a day!"

Malachi fell to his knees in the sand that covered the cave floor and cowered there, as if he expected to be beaten in front of her. Or if he expected the truth to be torn from his mind, which Gabriel could very well do.

"We need to talk," she said firmly, moving to stand in front of Malachi. "He did what you asked, Gabriel. I saw the Healer, and she said that our daughter is healthy and happy."

That--as nothing else would--gave Gabriel pause. He stared at her for a moment, his eyes silver reflections of fury, and then shook his head. When she touched his arm, she found it rock hard and quivering, as if he barely held back the urge to pummel his Hound into unconsciousness.

"You were gone the better part of a day," he said, his voice dead calm.

"It takes time to walk the miles to and from that house," Emle said, and placed one hand on her stomach. "Did you expect that I would be able to run?"

Her tone of voice surprised him enough to deflect his fury--at least for the moment. He glanced at her, consternation now evident in his gaze. "No, of course not. But--"

"If I understand it correctly, all you had to do was open the bond to see that we were not in danger," Emle said sharply. "You need not take your frustration out on Malachi. He did a wonderful job of protecting me."

Gabriel frowned at his Hound. "Malachi has never learned the proper place for silence."

"If I am to stay here, then I need to know these things," Emle whispered. She released his arm and stepped backwards, placing herself between Malachi and Gabriel again. "You will not punish him for speaking with me, my love."

Gabriel clenched his hands into fists.

"Please, my lord. I did as you asked. I brought her back safely." Malachi spoke in a rush, his voice a thready whisper. He had not moved from his place on the ground.

"So you did." Gabriel's voice held neither condemnation nor praise.

Emle was not certain what happened next. She started to speak, but something--some vast, invisible thing--pulsed through the mouth of the cave and hit Gabriel square in the chest. He staggered back--his gaze registering both shock and pain--but before Emle could go to him, Malachi whispered Josiah's name.

"Who is Josiah?" she asked, and the world righted itself in an ear-popping instant.

For a moment, Emle could not remember how to breathe, much less how to speak. She took a step, slid in the sand, and would have fallen if Gabriel had not caught her arm.

"My lord--" Malachi's voice was hoarse. He staggered to his feet, forgetting his previous fear. "My lord--was that--what was that?"

Instead of getting angry, Gabriel stared at him as if seeing him for the first time. "That was--strange," he finally said. "And warrants exploration, in the morning."

Something had changed, but Emle did not know what. The intricacies behind Gabriel's relationship with his Hunt were too complicated for her to figure out without much more information at her disposal.

"He was a student at Darkbrook," Malachi said, picking up the thread of story even though Gabriel had not given him permission to speak. "A gifted student."

"You--You allowed a Hound to attend school? At Darkbrook? In full view of the Council?" Emle shook her head. "And yet you punish Malachi for--"

"That was ten years ago," Gabriel said calmly, but his gaze was troubled, as if he had also asked himself the same questions. "I will explain. I promise you that. But I--" He sighed, as if there was no easy way to say what he wanted to say. "I was always rather--fond--of Josiah."

He turned abruptly and vanished through the doorway, leaving Emle alone with Malachi.

She glanced back at him and wondered if he would answer any of her questions.

"Josiah was his favorite," Malachi whispered with no ill-will. "He was also a very talented wizard. He made some of the furniture in the house, and created the wards."

"He made the furniture?" Emle couldn't imagine a wizard doing something so mundane.

"Yes," Malachi said. "From the house itself."

"And then he just vanished? With no warning? Could he have run away?" She couldn't imagine a gifted wizard allowing himself to be ruled by the Master of the Hunt.

Malachi shook his head. "Don't even suggest that. Josiah wouldn't have run away."

"That's true," Nathaniel said from the open doorway. "Josiah is the only one of us who asked to be a Hound."

"Why does that make a difference?" Emle asked. "Malachi said that you all gave Gabriel your lives and your loyalty--"

"But we did not ask to be his Hounds," Nathaniel said, stepping out into the cave. "Josiah did."

"I don't understand," Emle said.

"Our Master--Our Master has given us leave to speak with you freely," Malachi whispered. "So we can explain. But we still--you still--" He took a deep breath.

"Yes." She still had to ask him about Jordan, and try to deflect his fury when he discovered that they had been seen. "I will do that first."

It was strange, walking between two Hounds in human form. Stranger still to see the two of them standing in the living room, awkward and uneasy.

"Where is he?" Emle asked.

Nathaniel avoided her gaze. "He said he would be in the library."

"No. I am here." Gabriel's appearance put both Hounds on edge. "I was unable to track the origin of what we felt, other than it came from Faerie."

"What we felt--" Malachi shivered and wrapped his arms around his chest. "My lord, we were seen."

Emle gasped. "Malachi!"

The world stood still for a moment that stretched into eternity. Gabriel did not move from his place in the doorway, but Malachi fell to his knees, his eyes tightly closed as his Master--and there was no doubt--tore the information from his mind.

"We were seen by a ten-year-old child!" Emle shouted, struggling to move past the horrible slowness in the air. "A child who has been left to fend for himself by the Council!"

"And you want him to come here?" Gabriel's gaze was far past silver now. "To expose the Hunt's last secret to a human child?"

"But Lucas knows," Nathaniel said, his fists clenched at his side. "You said--you told Josiah that Lucas knew he was a Hound. I remember that. And Malachi--"

Gabriel's fury was swift to strike. Despite the fact that he still had not moved a muscle, Nathaniel flinched back as if he had been struck.

"I am sorry, my lord, but I speak the truth." Nathaniel did not raise his voice, but his gaze was full of fear. "Please don't do this--"

Up until then, Malachi had not made a single sound. But now he screamed--a wailing keen that chilled the blood in Emle's veins.

Greatly daring, she stepped between Master and Hound and folded her arms across her stomach.

"Stop. Please stop," she whispered, struggling to stay calm.

Behind her, she heard Malachi collapse, like a puppet whose strings had been cut. For a moment, the only sound in the room were his sobs.

Gabriel stared at her. "You wanted to bring him here? Why?"

"Because a ten-year-old human child should not be allowed to wander the forest at will," Emle said, raising her chin. "It's June now. What will happen when the weather changes? He shouldn't have to live his life alone just because the Council is afraid of him!"

"I am sorry, my lord," Malachi whispered behind her. "I neither saw nor sensed any signs of habitation. I failed you."

Emle glared at Gabriel, daring him to agree with his Hound's assessment.

Gabriel closed his eyes. "No. You did not fail me. You brought Emle back unharmed." He turned, then, and vanished down the dark hallway, as if he could not bear to continue the conversation. Or perhaps he felt a bit guilty that he had overreacted.

Or that he had reacted exactly as Malachi had expected.

"Mama?" Eri's small voice echoed from the hallway, and she appeared in the doorway, her eyes wide. "Mama?"

Emle glanced back at her daughter, then turned and sank down on the floor beside Malachi. "Malachi, are you--"

"No. He is not well." Nathaniel pulled him up and half-carried, half-dragged him over to the wooden bench against the wall. But Malachi pushed him away and fell against the wall, sliding into a heap on the floor. "It hurts, when he--when Our Master does this."

Malachi whispered something Emle didn't catch. Nathaniel stiffened at his words, but gave him no reply.

"What did he say?" Emle asked. "This is my fault, not his. He tried to tell me how Gabriel would react, but I--I did not believe him." She held out her arms and Eri ran to her in Hound form, whining softly.

"He said he would have rather stayed a Hound," Nathaniel said stiffly, "and if you knew anything about Malachi, you would know how--" His voice broke. "How ludicrous that sounds."

"I apologize," Emle said, although she knew it wasn't a comfort. She glanced down the hall where Gabriel had vanished and felt a twinge of unease. "Perhaps--Perhaps Eri and I should go elsewhere, for a time. I seem to have made a mess of things, and I--"

"No!" Malachi whispered the word. "No. This is not your fault." He opened his eyes, squinting a little at the dim light, and stared at her through red-rimmed eyes. "I chose of my own free will to tell him."

"To protect me?" Emle asked, hugging Eri to her chest.

"No. Yes." Malachi closed his eyes. "Because I didn't want him angry at you."

"I think it's a little late for that," Emle whispered. "I never should have considered the possibility of bringing Jordan here. Not with the binding's destruction so close. This is my fault, Malachi. And I apologize for hurting you."

Malachi blinked at her. "You did not hurt me." But there were tears in his eyes as he spoke.
Emle glanced down the hallway again. There was a light now, flickering in the library, and she wondered if Gabriel could hear their conversation through the Hunt's bond.

"Are you to stay in human form, then?"

Eri shifted shape. "Mama, I heard--Malachi, are you okay?" She crawled across the floor to him, hesitated, then held out her hand.

After a moment, Malachi took her hand. "Yes."

"Until our Master tells us otherwise," Nathaniel whispered. "Yes." He sat down on the floor beside Malachi, whose eyes had closed again.

Emle squeezed Eri's shoulder and kissed the tears from her daughter's cheeks.

"I'll be right back."

With some trepidation, she crept down the hall until she stood in the doorway of the library. Gabriel stood at the window, staring out at the dark forest, his back straight but his shoulders slumped.

"They are still grieving for Josiah," she said, keeping her voice soft. "And I believe Malachi half-intended to hurt that child, just to save himself from your fury."

"I know." Gabriel's voice shared nothing.

"And this is acceptable? That he was so frightened of you that he considered murdering an innocent child?" Emle's voice rose, despite her efforts. "Perhaps I am not meant to be here after all. I thought--I thought I knew you. But you are not the man I thought I knew."

She wiped the tears from her cheeks and turned away, intending to walk back to the living room where Malachi, Eri, and Nathaniel waited.

"Emle."

"It's late," Emle whispered. "And I am weary. Our daughter is frightened, and thinks this is all her fault. And I do not wish to argue with you."

"Nor I with you," Gabriel said, his voice equally soft. "I--I did not mean for this to happen."

Emle suspected it was probably as close to an apology as she would receive. "No one did," she said. "Malachi least of all."

"The child you mentioned--I know of him," Gabriel said, still facing the window. "Lucas told me he would be living in the forest." He hesitated. "He did not inform me that he would be living in that house."

"Perhaps he doesn't know," Emle suggested.

"He knows." When Gabriel turned around, his eyes had returned to normal. "There is little Lucas doesn't know."

"Jordan was to wait at the house until dawn," Emle said. "After that, he said he would go to another of his safe places."

"Yet you did not tell him where it was you wanted him to stay," Gabriel said softly. "Don't you think he might be a bit--uneasy to stay with the Wild Hunt?"

Emle had not truly thought that far. "Perhaps," she said, allowing him that. "But he's only--"

"Ten years old." Gabriel sighed. "Yes. I know." He hesitated. "Eri is ten years old, and I wouldn't want our daughter living in the forest by herself."

"Perhaps if you have the Hounds look in on him--" That would still not solve the problem of a child living alone in the forest, but at least he would have some small sort of protection.

"No." Gabriel moved away from the window at last, and gathered her into his arms. "You were right, milady. A child should not be living in this forest alone."

Emle's heart leaped. "You--You are going to allow him to come?"

"I'm going to send Malachi to ask him to come," Gabriel said. "If he wants to, of course. I will not force him." He closed his eyes for a moment. "If--If you help me, I will not force anyone ever again."

Emle lay her head against his chest. "You will have to trust my word and listen to me," she said. "And you will have to trust your Hounds."

That would be the hardest part of all, she thought.

"Why did Josiah ask to be a Hound?" It was a blatant change of subject, but Gabriel did not seem to mind.

"He was dying," he whispered. "Starving to death. He'd lost his family in a plague, and he was delirious."

"How old was he?" Emle asked, thinking of Jordan.

"Thirteen." Gabriel hesitated for so long that Emle began to think he would not finish the story. "We came upon him--my Hounds did, at least. But instead of running or begging for his life, he begged me to turn him into a Hound."

"And you did."

"No one had ever asked to become a Hound," Gabriel said. "Of course I did. And he served me well, both in human and Hound form."

"And he ended up having a talent for wizardry." Emle closed her eyes when he stroked her hair.

"And I doomed him by allowing him to study at Darkbrook," Gabriel whispered, stricken. "If I had--"

Emle put one finger against his lips. "Hush. You cannot change what happened, Gabriel."

"I know." He sighed and took her hand in his, then kissed it. "I know. But that does not stop me from trying to prevent such a thing from happening again."

"By tormenting your Hounds?" Emle asked. "By punishing them?" She shook her head. "That is not the way to keep them, Gabriel."

"They cannot leave," Gabriel said. "They cannot escape me. Sometimes--Sometimes the power I hold over them is too much for me to bear."

"Malachi told me that he gave you his life and his loyalty a long time ago," Emle said. "Don't abuse such trust, Gabriel. He is your Hound, yes. They are all your Hounds. But they are alive, and they have wants and needs just like us." She paused, waiting to see if he would reply to that, then asked, "What about the others?"

"I told Malachi that I would allow everyone to shift again as soon as we were free of the Council's binding," Gabriel said. "I shouldn't allow--"

"The Council's binding expires in two weeks," Emle said. "Surely two weeks will not harm anything--will it?"

"Seth, Thomas and Zechariah are hunting for dinner," Gabriel said. "I suppose--I suppose I will allow them to shift as soon as they return." He hesitated. "The others have not been Hounds as long as Malachi and Nathaniel. They were the only survivors of the time before the Council's binding, when the only thing I could obey was Jacob Daulton's order of vengeance."

"Jacob Daulton? That name seems familiar--"

"He used to own the house you visited today," Gabriel said. "He was the last Daulton to live in it. The Council owns it now."

Emle shivered, remembering some of the echoes she'd felt while exploring. "Malachi had said that the man who lived there was not a beautiful man," she said. "I had intended to ask him further questions, but that's when I saw Jordan in one of the upstairs windows. And he--he ran back into the house."

"Yes. I saw all of that from Malachi's memory," Gabriel said. "And I--I overreacted. These past ten years have not been easy for all of us." He kissed her, then, and hugged her before letting her go. "You were right, Emle. It is late. Go to sleep in good conscience. There will be no more punishments tonight. I promise you that."

"Will you talk to Eri?" Emle asked. "She is frightened of what you did to Malachi."

Gabriel sighed. It was not a sigh of resentment, but more of dread, as if he did not relish the questions their daughter would inevitably have.

"She is tired too," Emle said. "Be gentle with her." Struck by a sudden thought, she spoke before she considered the impact of her words. "Perhaps--perhaps it would be easier for you if you treated your Hounds like your children instead of your servants."

For a very long moment, Gabriel did not reply to her outburst. In fact, he stood as if frozen, his gaze far away now, unseeing.

"I am sorry. I spoke out of turn," Emle said.

"No. You spoke the truth." He smiled down at her, but his smile was both troubled and sad. "And perhaps--perhaps that is all I need to do."

She realized then how much of an impossible task that would be for him to accomplish. "It was only a thought," she ventured, half-wishing she had kept her mouth shut.

Gabriel laughed then, an actual laugh, as if he could read her mind. "It was a good thought," he said, and kissed her. "Go to sleep, milady. I will take care of my Hounds and I will speak to our daughter. And no one else will be harmed by me tonight."

Next Update: August 31st

House St. Clair Home

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