Caledonia Fae 03 - Enemy of the Fae Page 22
“You responded to my mind call. Even though she had stilled your voice to prevent you from responding, I realised you heard me. And all the beetles and spiders? They would be a silly device for two as powerful as you to use in combat. Elders of your experience would ignore such illusions easily, so why use the energy to deploy them except to fool onlookers?”
“I’m glad my lessons have taken root, Your Majesty,” Oron said with a bow.
Eilidh gave him a tired smile. She was glad to have been proven right but sad at all the death that had come because of this woman’s hatred for her. She looked at Galen, then turned to the Watchers who held her. “The sentence is to be carried out immediately.” With a meaningful glance to Oron she added, “I will witness and verify it myself, to be certain there is no doubt.”
She felt no satisfaction when Galen crumpled when the conclave severed her from the flows, nor when a Watcher swiped an elemental sword across her neck.
∞
Flùranach woke a quarter-moon later, alone in what had been Rory’s room at the druids’ villa. She was prepared to disguise herself and trick the minds of any who came and went, but none entered this room, and Rory never returned. Then faeries arrived and began packing away the druids’ belongings. She gleaned from their conversation the druids were moving to a new home in the Halls of Mist. One of the druids, she heard, had died. The servants spoke of the Lord Druid with solemn respect, talking about the hundreds who had claimed the right to stand at his death rites. Her heart broke, fearing it was Rory. He’d been in a terrible state when she left him, but staying would only hurt him more. She blended in with the bustling activity, then went outside the main house to hide and wait until all had gone so she could weep for whichever of her friends had returned to the embrace of the Mother.
She’d thought about turning herself in to the queen’s Watchers many times, finding her grandfather, or ending her miserable existence. She doubted anyone was even searching for her. Why would they want her back after what she had done? Rory would never forgive her. She saw it in his eyes, heard it in his thoughts, even as he was asking her not to go.
Her gaze drifted south, toward the portal to the Halls of Mist. She imagined she could feel its shine. She’d seen the portal once but never passed through. Perhaps she should go look. A quick disguise would alter her features. To glimpse the druids one more time, that would be worth the risk.
Chapter 25
Nearly a month after Galen’s death, Eilidh invited royals from every fae kingdom to the Caledonian Hall to celebrate the erection of the Druid Hall. In that month, Eilidh had many important things to attend to.
Phillip was given death rites worthy of his station. Because he had no remaining family in the human realm, his remains were returned to the Mother of the Earth in the tradition of the fae. Touching tributes poured out from all of Caledonia and beyond, and she and the druids all felt embraced by the kingdom.
Once the truth was known, the people of Nir Doute welcomed Eilidh to join the remembrance ceremonies for those who died at the hands of Cadhla and Galen. The queen did so gladly, endearing herself to the hearts of her people as she wept openly for every life lost.
Munro brought the fire druid Huck before her, and she granted him leave to travel through or reside in Caledonia as he wished. Every kingdom had bestowed similar generous offers to all druids, including Huck, even though he had not yet touched the Source Stone. Munro and the others had wisely begun to work on a training and education plan for new druids, assuming they would someday find more. They agreed the shocking introduction to power should not occur until each druid was committed to existence in the Otherworld and understood he, or she, would never be able to return to life in the human realm. Huck was eager, but Eilidh approved of their plan to take things slowly.
An effort was made to find Flùranach. Eilidh even went so far as to have her Watchers scour the borderlands for any sign, but the girl had vanished. It pained the queen and worried her, but she had to accept her failure. Oron bore the weight of responsibility, and losing his granddaughter aged him fiercely. The search would continue, but Eilidh held little hope. She commanded the Watchers to be on the lookout but scale back their efforts. Flùranach was powerful and skilled with illusion, not to mention deception. If she did not want to be found, there was little anyone could do to force her to return.
Eilidh breathed in and out slowly. She stood behind the opaque screen, which shielded her entry into the reception hall where her guests waited. So much had happened, and much of it filled Eilidh with sadness. But her outlook had improved. The tide that threatened to overwhelm her reign had reversed course since Cadhla’s capture and Galen’s death. Although Eilidh wasn’t thrilled the druids decided to take up residence in the Halls of Mist, she understood their reasoning. Rory was recovering better than she dared hope, and the druids seemed intent on forging their own path.
Griogair stuck his head around the screen, appearing startled to find her standing there, lost in thought. “Is something wrong, my love?”
She smiled. Their growing relationship was one of the things that brought her comfort. “No, I just needed a moment to breathe.”
“You can still change your mind,” he said. “Greet your guests, smile and pretend to listen to the pleasantries, then we’ll go to the Druid Hall opening as planned.”
His offer tempted her. She might easily skip this next confrontation. “I must do this,” she said finally. “Shall we go in?”
With an understanding nod, he slipped back into the reception room, giving her one last moment to gather herself. She wore impressive jewels and finery, even though she’d recently vowed to make some changes to her so-called image. Tonight was a time to make an impression.
Assuming her most dazzling smile, she entered as though she’d won a great victory. A hundred royals from every kingdom had accepted her invitation, including her step-son, Tràth. He stood in the back corner, avoiding the other royals as best he could. She wanted to speak to him, but this moment was for one in particular, and Eilidh had work to do. Many royals inclined their heads as she made her way through the room, and she returned the gesture of respect. She knew them all now, and over the centuries to come, some would become great allies, but others would turn to bitter adversaries. It was the way of fae politics.
With Griogair by her side, she approached the Andenan monarch. “Queen Vinye,” Eilidh said with a smile.
“Queen Eilidh,” the lovely faerie queen replied. She wore her flowing black hair arrayed around her shoulders, and intricate strands of gold made delicate filigree designs that accented her luminescent brown eyes. “I’m pleased to learn the troubles in Caledonia have calmed somewhat. A traitor in your own conclave? It’s shocking to imagine.”
“Isn’t it?” Eilidh struggled to bury her anger deep and gloss her emotions with the veneer of flawless civility. “In light of your support, I have arranged a gift for you.” She signalled her head steward, who brought forward a large golden box with a hinged top.
“A gift?” Vinye’s eyes shone. “But, my dear queen, I have done nothing so many others would not have offered, were they brave enough to do so. Your power is quickly becoming a thing of legend, and so many of our fellow royals are reluctant to move. But soon they will follow my lead.”
“I think not,” Eilidh said in a low voice. The steward bowed before Vinye and offered the box.
With a puzzled smile, Vinye watched as the steward pulled back the lid. The queen shrieked with surprise when she saw the contents, and her face contorted with shock.
All conversation stopped in the reception hall and a circle of inquisitive faces gathered around.
“Show them my gift to Queen Vinye,” Eilidh said. “I’m sure we’re all curious.”
Vinye shot a glare around the room as the steward lifted Cadhla’s head from the box by its hair. The macabre trophy was perfectly preserved by tightly wound flows of air magic. The former queen’s face appeared as haughty and m
iserable as it had a month before, on the day she was beheaded by order of the Caledonian conclave.
Composing herself, Vinye said, “I’m at a loss, young Queen Eilidh. Why would you think this an appropriate gift? There was no love lost between your predecessor and myself, but I do not wish her body parts to decorate my Hall.” The crowd tittered with uncomfortable laughter.
At Eilidh’s nodded signal, the steward replaced the head in the box and closed the lid. “I may be young,” she said to the crowd, “but I know how to ask questions, questions Cadhla was only too eager to answer. We spent several days together, she and I, and oh, the tales she told of how her new friend Vinye was all too eager to help her sow discontent in Caledonia.”
“A ridiculous accusation,” Vinye said, her chin held high.
“You must find our situation uncomfortable, the way the borderlands of our kingdoms rest in close proximity in the human realm. Just think. If I were deposed, it would be a simple thing to gobble up the gates, absorb our borders into your own. We’ve seen such things happen often when one of our kingdoms succumbs to the human encroachment. The wastes of Andena grow more bleak by the day. Your borderlands were once pristine but now harbour one of the largest human cities in our part of the world. That small area alone boasts nearly fourteen million humans, each with vehicles and technology that disrupt our flows. Within a century, there may be no sacred altars left on which to beg the Mother’s gifts of fertility. If the Andenan kingdom withers, what will happen to her queen?”
“We have many altars left in the north and east,” she said.
“True. You might not hit a crisis for another century. But by then, my power might be too strong. Why not strike while you perceived instability and weakness? When Cadhla escaped, it made sense she would go to our nearest neighbour, the one who would gain the most if Caledonia crumbled. She boasted of allies in my conclave. Her plan could hardly fail. And who could convince Ríona to spy for Cadhla better than the queen of Ríona’s own homeland? When she reported Caledonia’s druids would soon be elevated to the highest level of power in any kingdom and claimed they would be revered, bringing new hope, you panicked. The mass killing at Nir Doute, Cadhla claimed, was your idea.”
Vinye paled. “How dare you suggest such a thing?” She glanced around, but the crowd backed away from her. “You would believe this child over me? I have ruled Andena over six hundred years!” she shouted.
“Cadhla also told me how you did it. The poison came from a shipment of Andenan honey, ordered to make honeyed froth for a local festival, intercepted on Galen’s order, delivered by Cadhla herself. She didn’t need illusion to disguise her features. As queen she’d been reclusive, and no one would expect her to play the part of a servant. I have the one remaining container of the honey here.” Eilidh gestured to another servant, who brought forward a small crate of the Andenan delicacy. “You expected they would use it all, and why not? Unfortunately for you, they found the taste so delicious and the gift so precious, they couldn’t bear to use it all at once.”
A murmur went up in the room, and the royals gaped at Vinye in disbelief.
“Prove me wrong,” Eilidh said. “Let my servant unseal this crate so you might enjoy the taste of home. If Cadhla’s last words were a lie, what harm could there be?” Eilidh held herself still, waiting for Vinye to answer. In truth, none of the poisonous honey had remained. This shipment was more recent and completely untainted. If the Andenan queen accepted her challenge and ate the honey, her accusations would fall apart and Eilidh would be publicly diminished.
“You have poisoned this honey yourself,” Vinye said, her gaze dark and dangerous. “Not content to take Cadhla’s throne, you want mine as well.”
“Have your own people test the seals. They have not been tampered with. I can produce the council of Nir Doute, if you wish to question them about the shipment or how they stored the crate. Their own investigation proved that all who died drank froth prepared with Andenan honey, and no one who did not drink it became ill.” She watched Vinye closely, not certain what the woman would do when cornered.
A long moment of silence stretched in the reception hall. Finally, Vinye licked her lips and spoke. “I do not doubt your word, Queen Eilidh,” she said, “but I protest my innocence. Had I known Cadhla used Andenan goods to carry out her atrocity, I would have done everything in my power to stop her. As I said, Cadhla and I had a long history of rivalry which bordered on animosity. I’m shocked to learn she hated me so much as to attempt to implicate me in her evil and murderous plots, but surely you can see there is no evidence of my direct involvement. In fact, I will order an immediate investigation and will not rest until the true culprit is found and punished.” She gave a bow fractionally lower than one queen would ever give to another, signalling her defeat.
Eilidh was both disgusted and frustrated. She’d hoped Vinye would confess, but when she and Munro had discussed the plan, he warned her it was unlikely. Eilidh gave a barely perceptible inclination of her head in reply, and watched as Vinye straightened herself and turned to go without meeting the eyes of anyone in the hall. As she reached the door, Eilidh said to her steward, “Go with Queen Vinye to the Andenan Hall and deliver Cadhla’s head. She should keep my gift as a reminder. See the poisonous honey is destroyed.” Eilidh did regret no one in any kingdom would touch Andenan honey again. It had a lovely flavour.
As soon as Vinye left, the room broke into excited chatter. Monarchs and minor royals alike made a point to congratulate Eilidh on weathering the difficult first year of her reign. Many found subtle ways to distance themselves from Vinye and most offered sympathies regarding the atrocity at Nir Doute.
Griogair’s cousin, the queen of Tvorskane, helped turn the subject to the events of the day. “And what of the druids?” Queen Zdanye asked. “We are all delighted they will take their place in the Halls of Mist, as the absence of the draoidh has marked a decline we would rather not admit. But will you not feel their loss sorely in Caledonia? I do hope this doesn’t indicate a rift between you and your own bonded druid, who I understand has taken up residence at the Druid Hall.” Some gasped at her audacity, but Eilidh had been prepared. Griogair had suggested having his cousin voice the question so many would ask themselves in the privacy of their kingdom Halls.
Eilidh opened her mouth to answer but was interrupted. Munro entered and walked directly to Eilidh, his voice sounding throughout the room. “My bond with Her Majesty is unbreakable. The druids’ friendship with Caledonia will endure through the ages. Those who wish to ally with us will know alliance comes with an unbending loyalty to the queen who gave us a home when others treated us with contempt.”
The royals inclined their heads with respect as Munro strode confidently to Eilidh. He took her hand and bowed over it. “My queen,” he said with a mischievous smile. For some reason, it amused him to speak to her formally in public.
“Lord Druid,” she replied, happy to see him looking so content. She’d had an answer prepared for Zdanye’s question, but his was better and had the added impact of seeming spontaneous and heartfelt. “Are our friends ready for our arrival at the Druid Hall?”
“Yep,” he said with a grin.
Eilidh had to fight not to roll her eyes. What on earth was fae royal society going to make of these new lords? She glanced at Griogair and had to laugh. She recognised the look he was giving Munro. It was one he usually reserved for her when she wasn’t acting regal enough. “If I may beg your indulgence, my consort and I wish to have a private word with you. Prince Tràth will lead our guests to the Druid Hall. I promise we will only detain you a moment.”
“Sure,” Munro said.
Eilidh caught his subtle wink and realised he was intentionally trying to fluster Griogair and perhaps tweak the other royals as well. Enjoying his rebellion against formality seemed somehow wrong, but she couldn’t resist his smile. “This way then,” she said, gesturing to a side room. Tràth guided their guests out of the reception hall, and Eil
idh relaxed. She relished these private moments, which had become even more rare of late.
∞
Munro followed Eilidh into the cosy side room and took a curved chair next to hers. Griogair draped himself across a settee opposite them. They sat in silence. For the first time in a long time, the atmosphere between the three of them felt awkward. He waited patiently as Eilidh struggled to find words. It wasn’t like her, so Munro watched with some curiosity.
“What’s wrong?” he finally asked, taking Eilidh’s hand. “You’re so tense. Was it what I said to the queens and them?”
“The queens and them,” Griogair muttered.
“No,” Eilidh said. “I want to talk about us.”
Munro raised his eyebrow and sat back.
“Considering your position,” she began slowly, “it would be disrespectful to continue to ask you to hide our relationship.”
“And sneaking around wasn’t disrespectful before?” he asked, then softened his tone. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. I know why you got married, and I know why we have to be discrete. Why should my so-called position mean anything has to change?”
“Eilidh is right,” Griogair said. “The entire Otherworld will be watching the druids. Now is not a time to do anything that will diminish you in the eyes of the fae.”
Munro swallowed hard. “So no more sneaking around?”
Eilidh looked into his eyes, her delicate skin shimmering in the dim light. “Our dilemma is that it would be disrespectful to my mate and damaging to our reputation if I openly took a lover who is…” her voice trailed off.
“Human?” Munro asked. He tried to keep the contempt out of his voice, but although many things had changed, some things probably never would.
“No,” Griogair said. “What Eilidh is trying to communicate, but doing so clumsily, if you’ll forgive my saying so, is you are now in a position superior to mine.”