Blood Faerie - Contemporary Urban Fantasy (Caledonia Fae, Book 1) Page 15

  Eilidh was aware that Beniss, her sister, and the third faerie exiled with them had been banished from the kingdom nearly a thousand years before. In that time, she supposed, it was feasible they’d produced one or two children per couple, and those children might have had children, but that could hardly be called a conclave, which traditionally needed at least twelve. There was little point in having a conclave of twelve to rule twelve, but any birth among the fae was something to be celebrated. “That’s wonderful,” she said. “Are your children gifted in the same way you are?”

  It was something she’d wondered once upon a time, but she hadn’t contemplated it for a while. But in considering Saor’s wish for her to once again be a part of the kingdom, she thought about what it might mean to give birth to a faerie cursed with forbidden magic. But neither her parents nor grandparents had shown any signs of being afflicted by the Path of the Azure, so perhaps it was not inevitable.

  “Although the chance of azuri talents is much greater among our children, the Mother of the Earth and the Father of the Azure choose our strengths,” Beniss explained. “Our children who are gifted in the Path stay with us out of necessity. The others moved on. They could not be expected to remain where their gifts in the Ways of Earth could not manifest.

  “We have a few allies living among the kingdom who help us by taking in the children who need guidance in the Ways of Earth. After all, what faerie would not welcome a child in these days of dwindling numbers?” She saw that Eilidh and Saor had finished eating. “Come, you will meet the others.” She guided them outside, and they followed her down a path behind the small house. They walked for some time in silence, and Eilidh grew more agitated and nervous. Although the conclave would, she hoped, be kinder to her than the last one she faced, unwanted memories and feelings surfaced.

  Instead of going further into the woods, Beniss led them to a paved road, and they walked for several miles, coming close to a human village. Eilidh retrieved her small black hat from her pocket and covered her ears, and Saor lifted his hood.

  Eilidh expected to pass through the village or perhaps turn down a forgotten byway. Instead, they walked directly to a building marked Village Hall and entered. That was not the most surprising thing. The hall was full of what appeared at first glance to be humans. It didn’t take long for Eilidh to see that the human faces were an illusory facade. A moment later, her ears picked up the delicate sound of the ancient fae tongue. The voices speaking it had a pure, clear tone that could not be human.

  There were faeries of many ages, including a few small children who ran around the hall playing. But their appearance wasn’t what shocked her. What surprised her was their number. She counted at least forty in the room. In a thousand years, a fae couple might be blessed with one or two births, if any. But forty? Beniss had said that some of the children had chosen not to stay with them. Never in her life could she have imagined this was possible.

  The sounds in the hall hushed. All but the children stopped and watched the newcomers. When the faeries saw Beniss, they relaxed. Most went back to what they were doing before Eilidh and Saor had arrived.

  Beniss motioned for the pair to follow her. She led them through the hall toward a back corridor. They left the bustling sounds behind and entered a small side room. Inside sat Galen and an elder fae. The elder, unlike the others, did not hide behind an illusion of humanity. Long white hair hung loose around his shoulders, and his face bore deep lines around his eyes and mouth, something that would take more than a thousand years for a kingdom fae. He smiled and waved the new arrivals inside.

  “Eilidh, Saor,” Beniss said. “Let me introduce you to the head of our conclave, Oron.”

  Eilidh was not surprised to learn that Oron held that position, one that traditionally went to the most powerful in a community, who was also often the eldest; however, she was surprised to see just how old he was. It was possible, she supposed, that the age on his face was an illusion, just as the youth and humanity on Beniss’ face. On the other hand, she couldn’t imagine a faerie with any self-respect doing such a thing.

  “Sit,” Oron said, pointing at some chairs along the back wall. The trio each grabbed a chair and sat as he’d requested. “I thought it might be a little easier to meet with me one-on-one,” he said. “From what Beniss has told me, it doesn’t sound like your previous encounter with a conclave was pleasant. Although it’s been a while, I grant you that I certainly remember the feeling.” Although his expression was open and friendly, all that changed when he turned his eyes on Saor. “You, kingdom faerie, have been allowed into our community on Beniss’ word that you have come here in good faith and that you are bound by friendship to one who follows the Path. However, take me at my word, if you ever betray us, our community, our location, our numbers, our strengths and weaknesses, I will learn of it, and you will regret it. Understood?”

  There was no mistaking the menace in Oron’s voice. Eilidh had no doubt he could and would find a way to make Saor regret any word spoken in the wrong ear. An elder of the kingdom would be a dangerous enemy. She didn’t even want to think what an elder of the Path of the Azure could do. Apparently, Saor also understood and believed Oron’s warning, because he inclined his head and replied, “Indeed.”

  As quickly as it had come upon him, with Saor’s agreement, the serious expression left Oron’s face. He once again appeared welcoming and jovial. He asked Eilidh to repeat the story she’d told Beniss the night they arrived, and Eilidh did as he requested. This time the telling was briefer and less emotional, simply because she’d told it before.

  “You are welcome among us, Eilidh. I suspect you have many questions and much to learn about the Path of the Azure. Believe me, what you learned from the kingdom conclave is not the truth, or at least not the whole truth. But Beniss tells me you have other things on your mind. This news concerns us as well. I have heard of the type of magic the blood faerie wields, and once, long ago, I even saw it practiced.” He paused as though remembering something. “Did you know there was a time when the Path of the Azure was called higher magic, and those who had the talent for it were revered among all faeries?” He didn’t wait for her to answer. “Yes, once we held positions of power in the kingdom, until a few misguided souls allowed their greed to corrupt them. They were not satisfied with simply wielding the magic of the azure. Wicked fools.”

  “What happened?” Eilidh asked.

  “They taught you, I suppose, that using the magic of the Path of the Azure is corrupting, addictive, and perhaps even evil?” Again, Oron didn’t wait for an answer. “It is not the flows themselves that cause the hearts of the fae to become corrupt, any more than the Ways of Earth could cause such malignancy.” Saor opened his mouth to interrupt Oron, but the elder ignored him. “It is the power itself. Consider this. Why do you believe, Eilidh, the kingdom conclave ordered your death?”

  “Because I know forbidden magic.” Eilidh didn’t understand what Oron was asking.

  “But why is it forbidden?”

  She thought of the obvious answer but knew that wasn’t what he wanted. He believed the Path of the Azure was not evil or corrupting as she’d been taught. But if that were not the case, why would the kingdom conclave send out an edict declaring the Path of the Azure forbidden? She looked at Oron and shook her head.

  It was Saor who offered the answer. “Because they were afraid.”

  A smile broke out on Oron’s face. “Precisely. With the power of the Path of the Azure, we could have dominated the kingdom and everyone in it. We could have put one of our own on the throne. We might have even challenged the other kingdoms and began a war like our race has not seen in several millennia.”

  Eilidh shivered. Yes, she could understand why the kingdom fae had been so afraid. Never in her wildest dreams would it have occurred to her to try to depose the royal family. It was unthinkable, even to an outcast like her.

  Oron went on. “Our ability is rare outside our own direct descendants, although i
t certainly does pop up spontaneously now and again. You are proof of that, Eilidh. And as they still seem to do, the kingdom conclave of my youth feared that we of the Path would set up our own royal dynasty. In truth, had we been as organised and ruthless as they suspected us to be, they could not have stopped us. Our downfall, it seems, was our unwillingness to become what they thought we were.”

  “And yet,” Saor said, “there is one of the Path murdering humans in the most bizarre and indiscriminate manner. If that is not the definition of insanity, I’m not sure how you would categorise it.”

  “Evil is not the sole provenance of the Path,” Oron responded. When Saor agreed, albeit reluctantly, Oron went on to explain. “But I will concede this point. Those that deal in blood have sometimes proved to enjoy the flows in a way I personally find distasteful.” Oron appeared thoughtful. “Eilidh, I know you have not chosen to study with us yet, although I hope that someday you will find your home among us, at least for a time. There is much we could teach you, and there is much you could add to our number as well. Even understanding that, I think there are some things you should know about us, about yourself, about the magic that flows through you.

  “As there are four spheres of earthbound flows, once there were four spheres of the azuri as well. The Path of the Azure consists of the astral, the flows you and I wield, blood magic, of which I know very little, and two further realms. Spirit flows and temporal flows have been lost to this world. None of us in the higher conclave know why, but there has not been a fae in any kingdom born of the spirit or temporal flows in five thousand years. That is arguably a good thing, for they could manipulate the soul and time itself, two things that are dangerous in the hands of anyone. I certainly would never wish to have such power.

  “We who wield the azuri flows get our power from the stars, and our sphere of control is the mind. For blood fae, known in my day also as bone fae, their power comes from within. If their heart becomes corrupted however, they may seek to use the blood and bone of others to achieve their means.”

  “How do we know what their aim may be?” Eilidh asked.

  “Tell me what you know of the deaths,” Oron said.

  Eilidh described the body as she found it under her church tower, as well as the body she had seen whose heart was removed from the chest cavity, but left damaged at the scene.

  Oron’s face twisted into an expression of extreme distaste as she recounted the details. “As I said before, I am not well versed in the ways of bone magic. Before we were cast out of the kingdom, there were more of our number, and we displayed varying talents. Sadly, many perished in the rebellion.”

  Rebellion?

  “But I can tell you this much, whatever ritual this blood faerie has begun, he has not finished yet.”

  Saor interrupted. “How can you be certain?”

  “Obviously his last killing did not achieve what he wanted. The heart is the source of a faerie’s power, even those of us whose sphere is the mind or the earth. We can train to still our minds, but our hearts beat one measure after another without thought, without intention. For the fae, our magic is in our blood, literally speaking. So to take our blood, or to take the heart that controls the flows within us, is to capture our essence.”

  “But all of the victims were human,” Eilidh said.

  “The only time I have ever heard of humans being a part of a fae ritual,” Oron said, “was when the human was a true druid. But I haven’t seen one of those since my exile. In fact, I don’t think any still exist.”

  Sudden panic clutched at Eilidh’s heart. Munro. “I have met one,” she said in a rush. “He has the ability to mould stone.”

  Oron became quite excited. “You have bound a true druid to yourself?”

  “Bound? My father mentioned this to me but I do not understand.”

  “If the power of one of the Path is two or three times what an earth faerie might possess, the power of an azuri faerie when combined with that of a true druid is ten times. As you have probably noticed, we are weak in the earth. But a true druid can compensate and give us full control of the Ways of Earth.”

  “You mean Eilidh could master stone?” Saor asked.

  Oron leaned forward. He gazed into Eilidh’s eyes. “If you bind this true druid to you, you could master all the Ways, not just stone.”

  “All the Ways?” Eilidh looked from Oron to Beniss and back again.

  “Air, water, stone, fire.” Oron nodded. “Like any of the flows, they would take time to master. Ability is one thing; competency is another. But as the magic in your blood increases your lifespan, so will the limited magic in his blood increase his, and the bond you share will add to that even more.”

  “What would I have to do to bind him, and what would be the cost to him?”

  Oron smiled. “A wise question, child. But perhaps we’ll talk about that after you have met some of the others and we have discussed this blood ritual further. My bigger concern is the immediate threat. If the blood faerie is killing true druids to perform some dark ritual, this is a grave concern to all of us who follow the Path of the Azure. To lose even one druid is a tragedy. Either this bone faerie does not know what he is doing, or he is sacrificing them for something that will bring him such power that losing a few druids is meaningless. Neither of these possibilities is good.”

  Beniss stood. “Oron is right. We have talked for a long time. I know your need is pressing, so we must speak to the others. Return to my home, and I will find you after the conclave has met once again.”

  Although Eilidh did not like having to wait, her mind buzzed with all the things she’d learned. She needed some fresh air and time to sort things out in her mind. Her heart was suddenly full of worry for Munro. If the blood faerie was killing only true druids, then Munro was in danger, and she needed to warn him. It shocked her that she cared so much, after knowing him only a short time. She knew her concern didn’t just come from learning that he could enhance her power. She was curious, true. She felt a tingling hope she had never experienced before, that she might not just be some magically malformed aberration to be shunned and hated. But more than that, he was her friend, and perhaps their relationship could grow even further, although she barely let herself think that way. She would never forgive herself if something happened to him that she could have stopped.

  ***

  Cridhe stared at his human minions. “Are you certain he is gifted with stone?” He glanced from Douglas to Rory and then Phil, finally letting his gaze settle on Frankie, Munro’s cousin. “Absolutely certain?”

  The three other druids looked at Frankie for confirmation, and he nodded.

  Interesting. Cridhe thought he would have to put his plans on hold indefinitely since the disaster with Craig Laughlin. He wasn’t sure why the ritual failed, only that it had done so in a spectacular way. He’d taken the heart the same way he’d done with Robert Dewar and as Dudlach had with Jon. But as soon as Cridhe got two feet away from Craig’s body, the beating heart, the magically bound organ, began to quiver and shake in Cridhe’s hand. The druid’s essence had been encapsulated in his heart, but Cridhe could not get it to stay there, and it had burst out of its delicate fleshy cage.

  Dudlach had been quite angry at Cridhe’s failure. He’d stood over his son, screaming with rage. Cridhe bore the insults with grinding teeth. His father was dead. Why wouldn’t he leave him alone?

  Cridhe had no choice but to wait until they found another stone druid. The instructions on the slab had been most specific. But even without them, Cridhe could tell by the resonance of the flows that only stone magic would do. Now one had been delivered to them. It couldn’t have been more perfect. Finally, Dudlach was silent.

  The four druids sitting in front of Cridhe all had talents in the water element, the most common. So he knew he could take any of them at any time. Dudlach wanted him to choose the most powerful of each sphere they could find, thinking it might make a difference to the success of the ritual. But Cridhe d
idn’t think it would matter. Balance was the thing. It would be better to have four druids of equal talent, rather than one or two who outshone the other sacrifices. Without balance, one flow might overpower the others, causing the result to be uneven and therefore less powerful. The last thing they wanted was an unpredictable result of something of this magnitude.

  It rankled him still that he’d had to sacrifice Jon, whom he missed every day. They had been the most potent combination, and everything seemed easier for Cridhe when Jon was around. Dudlach said that was nonsense, but Cridhe knew what he felt, and he would not be denied his revenge. He had to tolerate Dudlach for now, but that would not remain true forever. Once he had Eilidh by his side, his first order of business would be to find a way to rid himself of his father’s influence, no matter the cost.

  Everything they had planned would come together, and all of his dreams would be within his grasp as soon as he had the druid Munro. With his gifts of stone, Munro was destined to be a sacrifice. For the first time, Cridhe contemplated believing in the Great Mother. His father had taught him to respect and fear the Father and Mother, but Cridhe thought them part of the alien kingdom ways. But Cridhe knew those ways enough to see the kingdom had something he wanted, something that would be his very soon, thanks to Munro.