Iron (The Warding Book 1) (38 page)

“A beautiful young lady pleaded with me for help,” the Lynx responded, ever so coy and just slightly mocking. He winked at me. My face quickly cycled through a dozen shades of red. “How could I ever refuse such an intriguing entreaty?”

Kaine the Sourpuss grunted and waved a hand in the direction of my empty couch. “Please, have a seat.”

My temper soared to a fever pitch. Wasn’t it nice of him, to offer up such glowing hospitality to a stranger in
my
home? Feeling like an ass for standing there between them when I was obviously no longer a part of the conversation, I took a seat on the arm of the recliner next to Mairi. She leaned in to me and butted her head up against my arm. I put that arm around her and let her settle in against my side. Maybe I wanted to gut Kaine with a spoon and smack Gannon into next Tuesday, but she wasn’t on my shit-list. It was a minor comfort to know I still had one ally in the room.

Then again, the Lynx had agreed to this shindig for the sole reason of freeing my poor, stupid soul from the blood pact. That put him firmly on Team Caitlin too. He was still watching me with a smirk playing on his lips. He turned his attention back to Kaine, crossing one arm over his waist as he bowed deep. “As you wish, your royal highness.”

Talk about a slap to the face.

I looked down at Mairi. She looked stricken. I demanded an answer with my eyes, to which she mouthed “I’m sorry” with a cringe. That clinched it. Months and months of unspoken hints fell into place. I was an idiot for not having put it together sooner. That aura of power, their unquestioning deference to him, his mysterious connections helping us out at every opportunity. Hell, even his all-consuming need to get home and rescue his people from the mad king. From his batshit crazy
brother
, the High King.

Son of a bitch.

The night we met—the night Kaine and Mairi had somehow scared off a huge, scary-ass troll with little more than a stern word—they had told me the tale of their woe. A homeland ruled by a unstable ruler who had even gone so far as to exile his younger brother for the horrible crime of being better loved by the people. And still, I had never put one and two together. Even when faced with the question of how important of a man would travel not only with a blood-bound Guardian, but his own personal Healer and an Oracle, I had remained blind. It had all been laid out in front of me from day one, but I had chosen to ignore it. Even Argoth’s sudden disappearance on that fateful night made more sense now. Why would he have risked his head by striking down the King’s little brother, exiled or no?

Goddamn, was I ever the fool.

The Lynx made himself comfortable on my couch. He stretched his arms out across it’s back and crossed his legs, one foot swinging jauntily. He showed no fear, being outnumbered and in the presence of royal blood. Then again, considering that he had appeared in our midst without ever coming close to a door or window, I suppose he really didn’t have much to fear from us in the first place.

“Caitlin said you were seeking my aid.” Not one for preamble, that Lynx. “Please; tell me how can I be of service to you?”

For all his casual acceptance of the situation, there was an innate deference to his tone; a slightly stilted lilt I had come to expect from fae etiquette. For a moment I envied him his ability to appear so aloof yet so deferential at the same time. All these months running alongside them and I still had not managed to find that balance. Then again, given the formal parting of ways that had been struck only moments ago, I supposed that would hardly matter for much longer.

Kaine stood on the other side of the coffee table; spine straight, hands clasped behind his back. He looked confident. Or regal, one who had finally realized what had been staring her in the face all along might say. There was no trace of the angry, anxious mess he had been only minutes earlier. Then again, I guess a prince had to be used to being all stoic and shit, when addressing his lessers. “As you know, Tiernan has banished me from Tír na nÓg.”

The Lynx inclined his head. “I had heard the rumor. It saddens me to see it is true. Almost as much as it saddened me to hear that the High King has become so—how shall I say it? Unstable?”

Kaine scowled. “The tales you hear are true. My brother is not well. He refuses the advice of his healers and advisors both. I had hoped to sway him, but as you can plainly see, even I was no longer able to get through to him.”

“Madness often begets paranoia. Oft times, the one afflicted comes to see friends as foes.”

“Aye, that may well be true, but it matters little now. He must be stopped. His rule has harmed our kingdom, and I fear that he will cause irrevocable damage if left unchecked much longer.”

The Lynx sat forward, clasping his hands and balancing his elbows on his knees. “So you seek to depose him.”

Kaine opened his mouth and closed it again. He resumed his pacing, hands still firmly clasped. We all waited in silence while the Crown Prince gathered his thoughts. Finally, he said, “It was never my wish to do so, no matter what Tiernan may think. I never held any desire to steal what was rightfully his, least of all the throne. But I fear it has come to that. He is unfit to rule and I am the only other left living with royal blood.”

I sat still as stone, equal parts fascinated and appalled. So much time spent with them, and I had known none of this. I felt like I had learned more about Kaine in the past five minutes than I had in the six months preceding them. Then again I was only a human tool, to be used and discarded. What did I need to know of his fairy tale soap opera life?

The Lynx nodded. He looked thoughtful, in a distracted sort of way. “The situation certainly seems to warrant such a bold move. It may pain you to take a stand against your kin, but I think you will find few who will fault you, your royal highness. Tír na nÓg was a much brighter place in your mother’s day. The people need justice. A justice only you may now provide.”

“A justice I may only provide if I return home,” Kaine said. He stopped in his tracks, fixing the Lynx with a hard stare. “Tiernan’s power is absolute. His geis remains: I cannot cross the Veil. I have exhausted all efforts in trying to do so.”

“Ahhh.” A slow, knowing smile crept across the Lynx’s face and, for just a second, I could see how he had earned his nickname in that Cheshire Cat-like grin. “So this then, is where you need my help.”

Mairi was a ball of quivering energy beside me. I could feel her trembling. Gannon left the doorway, standing behind my loveseat; tense and gloomily serious. Even my nerves were jangling. This was the moment that we had all been waiting for, myself included. The million dollar question hung in the air, unspoken.

The Lynx was looking up at the ceiling, musing. “As you now know, there is little that can counteract the Word of the High King.”

“You say little, not nothing.” Gannon’s hands were clenched on the back of the couch, his knuckles white.

“Indeed. The High King is as close to being omnipotent as any Aos Sí may be. Too close, some might say.” I did not miss his dig, however subtle. He continued, “So long as your brother wears the Diadem of power he is nigh unstoppable. However, our ancestors would not have invested such incredible power in their sworn liege without ensuring that there was a fail-safe.”

“Which you know of.” It was not a question. An eager gleam lit Kaine’s eyes from within. “You know of a way to break the Word.”

The Lynx regarded them all in turn. After a long, lung-crushing moment, he said, “Yes. I know of a way you likely have not yet tried.” He held up a hand to forestall any whoops of joy. There was a grave air about him. “But be warned—it is no simple task, nor one many would dare undertake. I cannot guarantee you success and it will not be without danger.”

My heart bobbed like a buoy between elation and despair. Difficult often also meant lengthy. If this wasn’t a quick fix, I could kiss my hopes of them getting home in time to stop Texas Pete goodbye. I knew I should be equally concerned for the fate of their realm and mine, filled with innocents on both fronts, but I was a little too preoccupied to spare much thought on that. The Lynx had made a very good point about madness breeding paranoia and I had held no illusions: the existence of a Warder would breed lots and lots of paranoia. My first concern was my own hide, however petty that was, and knowing it was not likely to be saved made me want to cry.

A look bounced around the room, shared by the three companions. It did not surprise me that no one raised dissent. They were willing to undertake any threat at this point—what choice did they have? Kaine nodded. “Understood. Any chance, however small, is one we must take.”

“Fair enough. You must find the Claíomh Solais.”

“The shining sword,” Mairi whispered reverently.

Kaine didn’t look nearly as impressed. “The Claíomh Solais has not been seen in many an age. It was lost to our ancestors long ago. Many believe it has been destroyed.”

The Lynx smirked. “Many are wrong.”

I looked over to Gannon. He knew weapons better than anyone I had ever met. Even he looked doubtful. A deep sigh welled up from the bottom of my soul. I guess I didn’t find it surprising that this quest would be on-going, or that it would require some kooky fae artifact straight out of Mythology 101. I had strongly hoped otherwise, but the truth of it all had always been staring me in the face: this wasn’t an easy problem to fix.

Kaine said, “And this sword, it will break Tiernan’s bond?”

“Yes and no. Possession of the sword alone will not allow you to break the geis, but it is the key. With it, you can challenge Tiernan’s claim and petition one whose magic may override his Word.”

An uneasy silence filled the room. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. A stronger magic than the all-powerful banishment of the High King? That did not sound good.

It was little Mairi who finally had the balls to ask the big question. “Who’s magic is that?”

“The Morrigan.”

A gasp rippled around the room. Even I tensed. The name rung distant bells in my memory banks, harkening back to my fluffy Wiccan days. Surely he couldn’t mean the goddess from Irish folklore, could he? The scary tough-as-nails one of battles and crows and whatnot? The grim looks surrounding me made me believe he was. That sent a wave of the heebie-jeebies down my spine. Faeries and trolls were one thing. Gods were another entirely. Such a creature couldn’t actually, physically exist… could she?

“You can’t be serious,” Gannon said. He looked angry enough to spit the aforementioned nails.

There was only a tiny bit of apology in the Lynx’s words. “I’m afraid so.”

Kaine had gone white. Straight up, sheet of paper, shaken to his core
white
. His arms hung at his sides, hands trembling. “Only a fool would dare summon Her. She long ago ceased to show any concern for her children.”

“Perhaps. But She will answer the call of the sword.”

“Madness,” Gannon spat.

The Lynx spread his hands. “I can only tell you what I know. Did I not warn you it would be dangerous? She is the only being powerful enough to break the High King’s geis. Like it or not, she may be your only hope for getting home.”

“To fight one madness, we must condemn ourselves to another.” Kaine’s laugh was a cold, bitter thing. He scrubbed at his chin with one hand, gazing out the window. When he turned back around, he still looked shaken. “And do you know the whereabouts of the sword?”

“You are correct in saying that it was lost for many years. However, a few years back I crossed paths with one whose mind revealed to me that the Claíomh Solais had been unearthed once again. Humans have long held it, never knowing its importance. To them it is merely a relic of a bygone era—but to those of us who know the truth, it is so much more. I myself tracked the sword for some time. Our history’s effects on this world are something of an interest of mine.

“Unfortunately, I never came in contact with it. The trail went cold and other matters took precedence, but before it I gave up I was able to trace it here to a private collector in New York City. I can point you in his direction, if you like. From there, I’m afraid you’ll be on your own.”

“Then that is where we will start looking,” Kaine said, mollified. It was far from the happy ending we had all hoped for, but it was something. It was likely the best chance they were going to get.

The Lynx stood. He pulled that familiar little notebook from his back pocket and wrote down an address. He tore the page from it and held it out. “I’m sorry I don’t know more. Truly.”

With a jerk of his head, Kaine had Gannon step forward and take the paper. He held out his hand in the Lynx’s direction, face solemn. “Do not be. The information you have given us may yet save our realm. You have done all that you can and, for that, you have my thanks.”

Surprise was writ upon the Lynx’s face as he clasped Kaine’s forearm and shook. Something told me such familiarity was rarely wasted on the lower class. He said, “Good luck, your royal highness.”

“Thank you. I fear we will need it.” He and Gannon retreated to the far corner of my dining room, shutting us out of their private huddle.

Dismissed, the Lynx turned his attention to me. He settled himself on the edge of my coffee table, putting us fairly level. He regarded me with a look of wry affection. “You are a resourceful woman, Ms. Caitlin. You succeeded where I am sure many have failed.”