Blood Faerie (17 page)

He nodded again in the same downward direction and repeated Eilidh’s question. He listened for a moment and said, “She says we’ll find the ones we’re seeking there.”

“No,” Eilidh said. “We go north. Come, Saor.”

“But…”

“No.” It had to be an illusion. Someone wanted to lead them astray. That could only mean whoever cast it must be close. Only an astral faerie could cast illusions, that much she knew. She felt both triumphant and excited, until Saor started to yell. He jumped and slapped at his arms and legs, as though something crawled all over him.

“Stop.” Eilidh put her hands on either side of his face, holding him firmly until he stared into her eyes. “It isn’t real, Saor. Trust me.” She didn’t even want to know what he could have seen to put him in such a state.

“Please, Eilidh,” he pled with her. He started to run, but she grabbed him by the arms. They struggled as she forced him to meet her eyes.

“Clear your mind, Saor.” She wasn’t sure which of her words had the effect, but suddenly Saor calmed. He looked down at his body, then back at her. The panic had gone, but some horror remained. She understood his reaction and why all fae were afraid of illusions. If someone could interfere with the thoughts of even a disciplined faerie like Saor, how could they trust
anything
they saw?

Holding Saor’s hand, as much to make sure he didn’t wander off as to comfort him, she spoke to the air in a firm, clear voice. “The blessings of the Mother upon you, elder.” The forest had an unaccustomed stillness, but she received no reply. “You have severed our connection to the earth. We are no threat to you. We wish only to speak with you.”

A soft blue glow appeared on a path ahead. It led away from the road and into the forest. Eilidh approached, leading Saor by the hand, and stopped a few feet away from the glow. It hovered just above a delicate footprint. She examined the mark in the dirt. It appeared to be natural, but Eilidh knew she shouldn’t trust her eyes. The glow could be attempting to lead her astray, just as something had done with Saor.

Eilidh stopped and considered. She could take the chance and follow, knowing it might lead them into danger. On the other hand, the footprint pointed further north, not south, as Saor’s illusion had. In the end, she could think of no good alternative. As long as she was following an illusion, the caster had to be nearby.

They stepped forward again, and as soon as they reached the glow, it disappeared, but the footprint remained. Just ahead, she caught sight of another blue glow. She went to it and saw the faintest trace of a footprint on the ground again. If Saor had been his normal self, he could have followed the trail unaided. Just as Eilidh had that thought, the glow appeared in front of her. She stepped forward, and it moved a few feet away. The influence no longer showed her footprints, but slowly led her deeper into the woods and over a stream.

After a half hour of walking, they came to a clearing. In the middle was the last thing Eilidh expected to see: a slightly rundown human cottage with a car parked alongside the stone driveway. Sprigs of grass grew around the vehicle, and a small pair of feline eyes peered from underneath it.

The front door opened, and a human woman came out. Her skin had a pinkish glow with freckles across her nose. Hair the colour of rust gathered loosely around her shoulders. She wore jeans and a cropped t-shirt with the word
sugarbabe
across the bosom.

“This is private property,” the woman said.

Eilidh opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out. Why would the strange glow have led her here? Then Eilidh realised what was peculiar about the woman. She stood perfectly still. She waited with the patience a human could never show. “You are fae,” Eilidh said.

The woman tilted her head.

A noise came from behind Eilidh, and she turned and saw another woman standing behind her. She had the same colouring as the woman by the house, but she had more angular features. Her expression was also less friendly. “Might as well go up,” she said, “since you can’t be persuaded to go home.”

Everything about her said,
You aren’t welcome here
, but Eilidh had a job to do, so she led Saor onward.

***

The three other druids—Douglas, Rory and Phil—all had talents with the element of water. They were friendly enough, but they acted wary and showed consistency in their disbelief that Munro’s abilities had spontaneously emerged. Although Munro was now fairly sure Eilidh had uncovered his abilities, he had to stick with his story. They also insisted on a demonstration of his powers before they would speak openly, even though Frankie told him they were cousins.

“I’m not sure I can do anything on command,” he said. “It always happens when I’m not thinking about it.” They were sitting around a white, metal table in Rory’s back garden. The sky had taken on the flat, pale grey it did on late summer nights, when the sun stayed up until nearly midnight. He showed them the bear and the teardrop he’d made and explained how it happened.

Douglas and Phil seemed satisfied, but not Rory. “Stone, you say? That’s pretty rare.”

“Is it?” Munro shrugged. “Just seems like rocks and metal are the only thing that have done anything for me. I don’t really know all that much about it.”

Rory picked up the stone teardrop and held it by the wide, bulbous end. A green glow so faint Munro thought it might be a trick of the light emanated from Rory’s fingertips. A single drop of water slid down the channel to the tear’s point and splattered onto the table. “It’s a genuine piece,” he said finally.

Frankie explained, “All druids use talismans like those, although some of us are better than others at making them. The medium tends to depend on the talent. Since the four of us are attuned with water, wood works best for us.” He started to go on, but Rory cut him off.

Rory tapped the teardrop onto the top of the metal bear’s head. “What we don’t know is who made them.” He seemed to be the leader, with Phil and Douglas staying quiet and taking their cues from him.

“Come on, Rory,” Frankie said. “I couldn’t have made that. Could you? There aren’t any other stone druids around. Only someone with talent in stone or fire could have made that.”

Rory reluctantly handed the piece back. “You’re a copper, right?”

Munro nodded. Frankie had told them about his job when they’d all been introduced.

“So you probably saw Craig Laughlin then.”

Munro froze. Craig Laughlin was the second victim, the one whose heart exploded. “No,” he said. “I never saw him. I’d been off sick and wasn’t working that night. You knew him?”

Douglas sat forward. “What kind of sick?”

Munro didn’t want to talk about it. “Passed out at work. Had a seizure or something. It’s all bogus. The docs can’t find anything wrong. Probably was just stress.” He shrugged.

Douglas and Phil exchanged a look, and Rory relented. “Sounds like what happened to most of us. Unlocking isn’t an easy process. That’s why we’re surprised it happened on its own. I’ve never heard of that.”

“What does this have to do with Craig Laughlin?” Munro asked.

Frankie leaned over and said quietly, “He was one of us.”

“A stone druid like you,” Douglas added.

Rory cast a glare that silenced the entire table.

Just then, the side gate opened and two more men walked through. One was tall and lanky in a black t-shirt and ripped jeans, while the other had an athlete’s build and buzzed blond hair. “Hey,” the tall one said to Rory, then stopped when he saw Munro. He looked him over for a second and turned his attention back to Rory. “Boss wants us,” he said.

“Boss?” Munro asked. He had a feeling it wasn’t an employer. Not at this time of night.

Frankie chuckled. “That’s just what Aaron calls our mentor, Cridhe. We gotta go though. You can take my car back to my house to get yours. I’ll get a lift with one of the guys.”

Cridhe?
It could be a fae name, but then it could be some kind of nickname too. “Your mentor? Can I tag along? Maybe he can help me figure out how my abilities got unlocked.”

“Sure,” Frankie said. “He’ll want to meet you.” He glanced at Rory and the new arrivals, but no one raised an objection.

Just then, Munro’s mobile rang. He put the phone to his ear. “Munro,” he said. He listened and glanced up at the five men. “Christ,” he muttered as he hung up. To the group he said, “Sorry, it’ll have to be another night. I’ve got to work.” He turned to Frankie. “Does the offer of your car still stand? I have to go in right away.”

Frankie frowned. “Another murder? Already?”

The response unsettled Munro, as though his cousin assumed there would be another killing and was only surprised by the timing. Instead of answering, Munro thanked his host and said goodbye to the others. “Nice to meet you all,” he said with a wave as he took Frankie’s keys.

His cousin followed him out to the car. “The gear box sticks a little,” he said, opening the driver’s side door.

Munro nodded. “Thanks. I’ll put the key through the mail slot.” He paused before he climbed in. “Do you know something about these killings I should know?”

Frankie seemed troubled but covered it quickly. “You know how this city is. Everybody knows everybody.”

Munro nodded. “Sorry about your friend.” He half expected Frankie to make a cliched comment urging him to stop whoever was committing the crimes, but he didn’t say a word.

The strange-looking faeries invited Eilidh and Saor inside. Saor seemed less glassy-eyed than he had been, but he still carried a hollow expression. He naturally felt the loss of the Ways of Earth more keenly than she did. For her it was as though she couldn’t smell something others could. For him, she thought, it must feel like total blindness.

If the outside of the house appeared perfectly human, the inside was anything but. One wall was covered in rock with embedded purple crystals that made the light dance around the room. When one of their hosts saw Eilidh’s interest she said, “It enhances the resonance.” Every piece of furniture was of fae design and hand crafted. The home had a beautiful, flowing elegance that showed the work of an artist. A hand-woven tapestry hung over one wall, blocking out the windows. It depicted a scene from the Halls of Mist that made Eilidh’s heart ache with the distant memory.

“I am Beniss,” the first woman said. Although her body appeared human, when Eilidh got a close look, she knew Beniss couldn’t be anything but fae. Her hair shone like polished copper, and her eyes had an inner gleam. “And this is Galen.”

Eilidh introduced herself and Saor, and they both bowed formally to their host.

Galen gave the slightest bow in response, but said nothing. Instead, she raised an eyebrow to Beniss, who acknowledged it with a nod. Galen left without another word.

“You must forgive my sister,” Beniss said. “She is distrustful of kingdom fae.” Her gaze settled pointedly on Saor and she remarked, “You still have the scent of the Otherworld on you.” With a glance at Eilidh she said, “But you…you have been away from the kingdom for some time.” She laughed suddenly. “I have forgotten my manners. It has been so long since an outsider has come here that I hardly remember how to behave. Would you like some honeyed froth?”

They accepted with gratitude. The long journey had tired them both. Beniss left them in the living area where they sat on the low, inclined seats their people favoured. Eilidh felt more comfortable than she had in a long time. She only wished Saor felt at ease.

When Beniss returned, Eilidh asked, “Why have you severed the earth flows?”

Beniss smiled sadly and gave them each a cup of a warm, sweet beverage. “You must think us rude, but over the centuries we have learned to be cautious. Of course, I would alleviate his discomfort if I could, but the enchantment is one that covers a wide area, lasts a very long time, and is difficult to produce. If Saor does not wish to stay, Galen would gladly escort him off the island.”

Eilidh found it interesting that Beniss only addressed herself to Eilidh, never directly to Saor. Eilidh turned a questioning glance to Saor.

“No,” Saor said, also speaking only to Eilidh. “I won’t leave you.” His voice was strained and tired.

Beniss nodded at his decision and then said, “I would ask what brings you to Skye, but I can guess. You obviously are weak in the Ways of Earth, or you would feel as disoriented as your friend. Since no faerie would voluntarily stay away from the Otherworld as long as you obviously have, I have to assume you are…an exile?”

Eilidh tilted her head. She found Beniss so strange. She appeared to be a human teenager, with her freckles and round ears, spoke like a fae elder, but felt like neither. “I’ll start at the beginning, if that’s all right?” Eilidh said.

“Please.” Beniss crossed her legs in her chair, gesturing for Eilidh to continue. “We still keep to the night.”

Eilidh began slowly, finding it painful to recount her childhood fumbling with the Ways of Earth and how awkward she’d felt. Beniss waited with immaculate patience for Eilidh to continue. When it came time for Eilidh to reveal how she had discovered the illusion spells and the mindspeaking talents, she picked up the pace. She let loose the anger and frustration she’d experienced when her father tried to keep her from casting in certain ways, always returning her to the Ways of Earth, making her repeat uncooperative incantations over and over.