Caledonia Fae 03 - Enemy of the Fae Page 17

  “I’ve gone through some changes,” Munro said.

  Griogair nodded. “I sense some of them, see the evidence of others. Your skin is like gold. You are, if I may say so, becoming quite beautiful.”

  Munro chuckled. The more he resembled a faerie, the more faeries liked it. “I’m more concerned with my abilities. Up until now, the only thing we druids could do is make things, but the gift is getting more complicated, the more I learn.” He took the small frog out of his pocket and held it out. The stone creature gave a little hop. Eilidh and Griogair glanced at each other, then back at Munro. He told them about the Killbourne Wall, Ríona and the keepers’ reactions, and his belief that druids were somehow part of the Otherworld creation story. Stroking the tiny frog’s back, he said, “It’s not really alive. For that, we’d need a blood druid, maybe astral and spirit too.”

  A tickle of fear rippled through Eilidh’s bond, but he didn’t understand why. It was just a frog. “I need a mentor,” he went on. “Someone who can teach me stone magic. I realise I might not have the aptitude. I mean, I’m not fae. I’m something else. But with my work, I’m going on instinct alone. There might be some benefit to learning how you use magic.”

  Griogair nodded. “I’m sure any number of fae tutors would be happy to teach you anything they can.”

  “Ah,” Munro said, sitting back. “Okay.” He didn’t want to admit his disappointment in the prince’s reaction.

  Eilidh turned to Griogair and rested her hand on his arm. “I believe my druid wishes you to teach him.”

  “It’s okay,” Munro said. “You’re pretty powerful, and I’m way below your level. Besides, you’re busy with this royal stuff.”

  Eilidh laughed. “Don’t be silly. He didn’t suggest another mentor because he considers teaching you beneath him.” She wrinkled her nose at Munro, a distinctly unroyal but adorable expression. “Shall I call for a translator? You two appear to be having difficulty.”

  Munro scrubbed his hand through his hair, confused. Was Griogair’s reluctance because of Eilidh?

  “I’m deeply honoured at your request,” Griogair said. “Although I possess strong abilities, I have no experience in how to teach another. You can choose from the most adept instructors in any kingdom, once word of your achievements spreads.”

  Achievements. Yeah, making a frog that can hop. Tremble at my feet. “I’d rather you help me,” Munro said. “If you have time.”

  Griogair tilted his head. “Of course I will, brother. And perhaps you’ll find an opportunity to show me how you did this.”

  “Sure. I used a combination of moulding stone and imbuing a rune.”

  “Which rune?” The prince leaned forward, fascinated by the still-moving creature.

  “I can’t remember. I’d need to show you. It disappeared into the talisman as soon as I finished.” He looked around for something to draw on but then realised he didn’t even recall the lines. “I would need something I want to imbue motion into. The process came naturally before. I hadn’t planned to do it. To try to duplicate the rune would be empty.”

  “Another time then. Once we begin our studies together,” Griogair said softly. “You told your friends of their potential?”

  “Yes.” Munro related his conversation with the other druids. “I think I’ve convinced them to stay.”

  Eilidh exhaled with relief. “I was worried we’d lose you all.” Behind her words, Munro detected the more personal statement that she was worried he would leave as well. Surely she had to know better. They’d been through so much together. “They were furious when we told them about Rory, and fearful others might try to force a bond on them as well.”

  “How is Rory?” Munro asked. “He was a wreck when I sent him back from Aberdeen.”

  “Better,” Eilidh said. “But still suffering. We’re doing everything we can for him. What of your time in Aberdeen? Was the man a druid, as Flùranach believed?”

  Munro nodded. “I told him I’d ask your permission to bring him here. He wants to join us. The timing is awkward, but I didn’t want to leave him hanging. Having these powers unlocked suddenly is confusing. I don’t want him to go through that alone.”

  Eilidh appeared deep in thought. “I’m glad we’ve found another, but it complicates things.”

  “Because of Flùranach?” Munro asked.

  She nodded. “What she did was unthinkable. She might’ve killed Rory.” Her anger flashed like a whip snapping within his mind. “Whatever happens, we must keep the girl secure. I’ve ordered Oron to do whatever is required to ensure she does not escape again. Who knows how many humans possess druidic talents. Every single one is of immeasurable value to our race.”

  Munro nodded. An interesting choice of words. Usually, even queens did not order conclave members, but no one could doubt her sound reasoning. “I have an idea how we can help Rory,” he said, changing the subject slightly. “He can’t return to the human realm, but perhaps he can go to the Halls of Mist. The portal would dampen their connection, and he might not be so deeply affected. Being separated from her might offer some peace.”

  Eilidh shook her head. “The druids need to stay here. Even Rory. In the Halls of Mist, I don’t have the same influence to protect you from the coming onslaught of attention. The rules of diplomacy are quite different in the Halls. He should be fine here, and the astral fae will keep his mind quiet.”

  Munro believed there was more behind her resistance, that she also wanted to keep the other druids from bonding someone outside the kingdom. He began formulating his argument. Although he didn’t want to fight with her when she had so many other things to worry about, he also thought someone needed to consider Rory’s needs.

  Griogair stepped in. “If the draoidh wants to take his companion to the Halls of Mist, we are in no position to refuse,” he said gently.

  “I think of this as a retreat,” Munro said. “The move might not be permanent.”

  “And you?” Eilidh asked, her gaze down. “Will you go with him?”

  “We can take him together. The other druids want to visit the Source Stone and you and Griogair can accompany us.”

  Eilidh sighed. Munro didn’t like backing her into a corner. He also didn’t like that, according to the other druids, Rory was kept semi-conscious in a room next to Flùranach.

  “I want to visit Rory before we decide anything. Would you like to come? We can ask him what he wants to do,” Munro said.

  Eilidh crinkled her forehead with worry, but she relented. “Very well.”

  ∞

  Rory lay in the small, narrow bed affixed to the wall. Similar to the faerie swing beds, the pallet moved when he did, but it felt more like an unstable bunk bed than a hammock. His mind was dopey and thick, as though he’d woken suddenly from a deep sleep and hadn’t adjusted yet. Somewhere in the fog, he believed he wouldn’t ever adjust.

  Flùranach filled his mind. She was wracked with anguish. He needed to comfort her, but the faeries wouldn’t allow him near her, and the soothing mist in his thoughts didn’t let him protest.

  In the next room, the sound of approaching voices floated to Rory’s ears. One voice was Oron’s. The elder rarely left Flùranach’s room, and every word he said agitated her more. A moment later, the other voices got loud enough for him to make out Munro and Eilidh’s. Then another. Griogair? Rory didn’t have a lot of contact with the prince and didn’t much care for him. After all, he’d stolen Munro’s girl. How Munro could stand being around them, Rory had no clue. If someone took Flùranach away… Rory grew numb. Far away, another thought struggled to intrude, but he couldn’t understand. Instead he tried to shut it out. Its meaning was too painful to bear.

  The group came into his room, but Rory refused to open his eyes. He wanted everyone to go away. Pain and shame burned through him. They knew what she’d done to him. He couldn’t stand them looking at him, knowing, pitying him. Relief washed over him when they finally went away.

  ∞

&nb
sp; “If I may make a suggestion, Your Majesty,” Oron said when they left Rory’s room. “Speaking to Flùranach may prove helpful. She’s remorseful but not particularly cooperative. Given your experience with bonding, you may glean something that will help you understand Rory’s condition. All we can do is keep him calm.”

  Eilidh paused and mind-spoke to Munro. What do you think?

  He gave a brief nod, assuming her private communication meant she didn’t want the others to be aware she’d sought his advice. Would she behave differently when the world knew he was draoidh?

  “Very well,” Eilidh said. “Her powers are completely subdued?”

  “Of course,” Oron replied. He sounded tired and testy.

  “Your irritation is understandable, elder,” Eilidh said, “but we have learned some things about her ability to detect druidic talent. I will explain further when we have more time, of course. For now, it is enough to know that she must be kept absolutely secure. She should not be allowed to harm anyone, of course, but she needs to be firmly protected as well as detained.”

  The elder lifted a bar from the door. Faeries didn’t like doors in their homes. He had turned his own house into a prison. “Did she gain access to earth magic with their bond?” Munro asked Oron.

  “Only water,” Oron said. “We shield her earth powers as well, although she has no training in the Ways of Earth.”

  Munro nodded. Curious. When he and Eilidh bonded, all the Ways of Earth opened to her, not just his stone sphere. “If I may, elder? She may be more cooperative if you stay outside while we speak to her.” The girl was unlikely to open up in front of her grandfather, whom she resented at the best of times.

  Oron hesitated. “Very well,” he said after a pause. “I will continue to contain her access to the flows from without.”

  When the trio entered, Munro’s eyes quickly adjusted to the darkness. Without her powers, she couldn’t even illuminate the room, but why would Oron not give her a light? Even the sharp-eyed fae didn’t live in complete blackness. She sat on a bunk, hugging her knees, wearing the same trousers and shirt she had worn almost twenty-four hours before when Munro sent her back from Aberdeen.

  Because Flùranach knew and liked him much better than she did Eilidh, he spoke first, protocol be damned. “Hi, Flùr,” he said. “Are you okay?”

  She glanced over, but her eyes quickly flicked behind him to Eilidh and Griogair. “No,” she said flatly.

  “Yeah, I guess not much of anything feels okay right now.” He put his hand behind him and tried to signal the others to stay back, hoping he might get through to her. They’d been friends not too long ago.

  “They won’t let me speak to him,” she said. As he approached, she studied him more closely. “You look different. You feel different too.”

  He didn’t want to go into his experiences and especially didn’t want her to realise Rory’s potential. “I’ve been through some changes lately too. Scary, isn’t it? I was talking to Tràth about your accident. It must’ve been frightening to lose yourself in the time stream.”

  “It’s very loud. I wish…” She twitched slightly.

  “What do you wish?”

  “I wish it would go away.”

  Munro raised an eyebrow. “You still see the time stream?”

  She nodded. “It screams at me. But I can’t control the flows around it like Tràth can. They won’t listen to me. I wish none of this happened and we could go back to the way things were before.” She looked so small.

  “Flùr, I need to ask you about Rory. Your bond doesn’t sound like mine with Eilidh. Can you tell me exactly what you did?”

  Tears welled in her eyes, and she shook her head.

  “Please? We need to understand so we can help him. I know you didn’t plan to hurt him.”

  “You’ll undo the bond. You want to take him away from me.”

  “The bond can be undone?” Munro glanced to Eilidh sharply, then back to a weeping Flùranach. He couldn’t imagine his bond with Eilidh could be reversed. But if Flùranach thought it possible to release Rory, he wasn’t one to doubt her. She’d proven she should not be underestimated.

  “No!” she screamed, flinging herself up from the bed. She stood face-to-face with Munro. Even though her powers were blocked and she wasn’t as physically strong as him, he needed willpower not to back down from her thunderous display of anger. Beneath the lashing fury, he detected fear. She was lying.

  “Do you understand why you’re in trouble?” Munro said, reminding himself that despite everything she’d been through, in many ways, she still thought like a child.

  “Because I tricked Rory into running away even though the queen told me to stay away from him,” she said. “But she doesn’t understand.”

  “And why else?” Munro prodded.

  “Because the bond didn’t work right.”

  “Do you know what rape is?” Munro asked quietly, searching into her eyes for some indication of whether or not she understood.

  “I didn’t do that,” she said. “Rory loves me, and I love him.”

  “When I lived in the human world, I was a cop. It’s like being a Watcher. I’ve met a lot of people who’ve been raped. Sometimes the person who does it is someone the victim knows, trusts, sometimes even loves. That’s because rape isn’t about love. It’s about power and violence, one person saying, ‘I can take anything from you, and you can’t stop me.’”

  Flùranach sat on the edge of the bed, pale and stricken.

  “Bonding wasn’t Rory’s idea,” Munro said. “Did you use your astral abilities? Did you use your magic to make him say the words? Did you force him onto the ground and tear his clothes?”

  “Stop it! Stop!” Flùranach said, hugging herself and rocking back and forth. Rory cried out in the next room, and despite the thick walls, Munro clearly heard his reflection of the girl’s distress.

  “Every minute you hold his bond against his will, you’re violating him.”

  She cried in earnest and clamped her hands over her ears. “I can’t let him go. I love him,” she wailed.

  Munro knelt in front of her but kept a distance. He had no idea what she might do. “If you love him, you must let him go.”

  “As long as we’re bonded, they won’t kill me,” Flùranach hissed. “Because killing me would kill him.” Her pale eyes pleaded with Munro.

  “The queen doesn’t want to kill you. She needs you. The whole kingdom needs you to find more druids like Huck, the American. You’re the only one who knows how. But how can we trust you when you’re hurting Rory so much?”

  “I don’t want to hurt him,” Flùranach said. “You must believe me.”

  “I do,” Munro told her. “You’re scared, and you want him to be yours. I understand how that feels. I love Eilidh, but she chose Griogair as her mate, not me. We’re still bonded, but I’ll never have her to myself the way I wanted.”

  Flùranach glanced up at the prince consort, then turned her eyes back to Munro. “Do you hate him very much?” she whispered.

  “I wanted to at first, but sensing her happiness through our bond makes me realise how wrong I would be to take that away from her. How could I hate him? He’s like a brother to me, and he loves her too. Their love feels good to me now, and I like it when she laughs with him and holds his hand, because I love her in truth. Do you love Rory in truth? Or is yours a selfish and shallow love?”

  “It’s not,” Flùranach said. “I do love him. I love him more than anyone understands.” Her voice had gotten quiet and still, and her tears stopped. She stared at the ground. “Our bond is half formed. I forced him to say the words. My power entwined his. The stub of his power has withered.”

  Munro wasn’t clear on the visualisation, but he didn’t ask for an explanation. “Can you unwrap your end of the bond?”

  Flùranach shook her head. “Mine has grasped onto him with little hooks. They won’t let go.”

  Munro remembered the first runestone Ríona showed h
im, the one where the fae fought with their slaves, human druids. Had they been held by bonds like this one? Those runes might hold the answers. “Okay,” he said. “I’m glad you want to help him. We do too.”

  She carefully avoided all eyes in the room but Munro’s. “I never meant to hurt him. I just wanted him to be mine.”

  Munro’s heart ached for her. Even though he’d talked her around, she still didn’t seem to fully understand what she’d done or that what she wanted wasn’t the most important thing in the world. “To help Rory, we’re going to take him to the Halls of Mist.”

  “What?” Her eyes flew open wide.

  “I think the portal will dampen your bond and give him some relief from his pain until we figure out how you can release him. Here’s the thing. You have to want him to go, or Rory won’t leave you.”

  “I do want you to take him, if you can make him well. I want to prove I’m not doing what you said.”

  Munro smiled at her. His heart still weighed heavily from what he’d seen, but at least now he had a glimmer of hope, perhaps even hope for both of them. He stood and met Eilidh’s eyes. “We should move him now,” he said, his voice low. The thought he didn’t want to add was before she changes her mind. Yes, he had hope but also enough experience to understand this wasn’t the end of Rory’s troubles.

  Flùranach’s eyes flicked to Eilidh as a thought struck. “I heard that,” the girl said.

  Munro turned back to Eilidh, sensing her surprise. “I did not mind-speak to you,” the queen said.

  “You don’t have to. You think I’m terrible and my grandfather should sever me. I’m not terrible. I’ll let Rory go to the Halls of Mist, and once he gets better, he’ll tell you how much he loves me. If anyone is terrible, it’s my grandfather.”

  Munro frowned with sympathy. “I know you think he’s being harsh, but he’s trying to protect you and Rory both. This has been scary for everyone.”