The Dark Huntsman: A Fantasy Romance of The Black Court (Tales of The Black Court Book 1) (18 page)

“My mother could have made the glamour last longer, but I’m afraid you’re stuck with me,” he said, the laughing, familiar Logan looking out through the sharp Logan’s face.

“Your mother?”

“She’s not with us anymore.”

She watched in the mirror as he moved back to the window. “My parents died when I was ten,” Trina said, softly. “They were one of the queen’s first casualties.”

“Well then, we have something in common. My mother began to fade when I was an infant. She was nothing but a shade by the time I was three. But I can’t blame the queen. It was her cousin that was at fault.” He turned back from the dark shadows filling the glass and stared into the mirror from across the room, his somber eyes finding hers in the reflection. “My mother faded from my father’s lack of caring. One might even say he murdered her by neglect.”

A cold trickle worked its way from her neck down her spine. She froze, her stranger’s gaze locked on his in the mirror. “Do I have this right? You’re related to the queen?”

“Hah! Yes and no.” He paced the small cottage floor. She watched, her eyes tracking his rapid movements in the flecked, silvered surface.

“You see,” he said, “Before your family was chosen for annihilation, my entire race was almost wiped out. My uncles are of the Fir Bolg, another fae race. We were the kings and queens of the fae, for thousands of years, the rulers of Underhill. Then the Tuatha De Danann came.” A cool breeze blew through the closed-up cabin. The lantern light flickered and dimmed.

Trina rubbed the raised hair on her arms.

“We warred for longer than even I can imagine. My uncles grew up fighting, grew tired and bitter. Men, women, even children, fought to expel the Tuatha, but my grandmother feared for my mother, her only girl out of eight, and kept her safe at home.” One of the lanterns blew out.

Trina shivered in the semi-darkness. “What happened to her?”

“It’s an old story, one of seduction, loss, and betrayal. She didn’t know he was Tuathan until it was too late. He’d dallied long enough to get her pregnant.” Logan’s face in the shadow of the last lantern was grim. “Then he told her the truth; she would never be good enough for him, a royal prince of the Tuatha De Danann.”

Logan stopped his pacing and stood looking out at the night, his dark head and shoulders bowed. Finally he spoke in a near whisper she strained to hear. “Once he was gone, she began to fade,” he said. “It’s a slow death. The movement from being here…to not being here. I have memories of her sliding into vague transparency until you could hardly see her. Until all that was left was a silent ghost moving around the castle. And then she was gone.”

Logan stayed by the window, almost hidden in the shadows. Trina remembered her own pain and losses. The breeze in the cottage stilled.

A sudden crack echoed into the night. Trina jumped, then laughed. They both smiled at the fallen broom, still shuddering on the floor next to the closet.

“Enough looking through a dark glass for one night.” Logan left the window and picked up a small velvet pouch. “Let’s make you smell like a different creature altogether.” He grinned, his real grin peeking out, despite the distorted glamoured face and the shadows still haunting his eyes.

He reached into the pouch, pulled out a handful of sparkly dust, and tossed it over her head. The fae dust shimmered, and danced, and settled on her skin, prickling and icy cold.

“There, the last enchantment.”

“This is awful!” Trina wrinkled her nose at the reek of lilies. “Couldn’t you have chosen something else? What does it matter how I smell?”

“It’s not perfume, silly girl,” he laughed. “It changes your underlying smell, the one that says who you are. We’re changing the scent others can use to track you.” His playfulness fled.

He placed his face on her shoulder, pressing his warm cheek to her chilled skin, his tip-tilted, elven eyes dark and concerned in his odd, altered face. She looked into the mirror at the strangers they’d become and took some comfort that their eyes hadn’t changed. That their personalities could shine through the glamour, even if it increased the danger.

“This is risky for you, Trina. If the queen finds out you’re not dead, she will be even angrier than she is now. And she is very angry. She’s losing control.” He held her tight, constricting her shoulders in a painful grip. “I don’t want you to go.”

She squirmed away. She was having trouble keeping up with his lightning quick changes tonight. If she was in danger, so was he. He risked everything for her, for her family. He could still kill her and deliver her to the queen and none would be the wiser, but instead, he was stretching out on a limb for her. She wished, for his sake, her new sympathy for him was enough to stop her, but her responsibility to her family was stronger.

“I’m going. I don’t know why you’re doing this, but I know why I am. My family is depending on me. And if I ever want to have a shot at any kind of a life, I’m depending on me, too. This might be our last chance. You seem sincere, but you’ve changed alliances before,” she said. “I’ve no reason to think you might not change again.”

She dropped off the stool and walked over to retrieve her new cape. Earth-shattering sex aside, this was her chance to save her family. To have a normal life, to watch children run without fear of his kind. Maybe even to be less afraid herself.

“I’m going. Let’s go over the plan.”

His face had shut down into something truly foreign. The face of a fully Tuathan fae now. Slender and fine boned. The enemy.

She wrapped the dark cape around her shoulders in an attempt to warm the cold invading her bones.

Logan’s uncle was of average human height, stocky with large muscles and a rolling weight-lifter’s gait. She could see where Logan got his gorgeous blue eyes, but unlike Logan, Rinnal’s face was covered by a full black beard.

“So, yer the lass Logan’s been hiding from us.” He flashed a brilliant white smile and she couldn’t help smiling back. Logan had charm, but Rinnal beat him by all measures.

“We need to get going,” Logan said, his voice clipped. He gave his uncle a dark look as he pulled the cottage door closed behind them. “Stay,” he ordered. The hounds obediently scattered around the clearing.

“Aren’t they coming with us?”

“Nay, lass. We’re taking the tunnels so as not to make a scene when a portal opens up next to the meet. The hounds’ll just get in the way.” They approached the opening in the hedge and Trina looked out at the lurking forest floor.

“We could ride there.” She sensed the forest awakening at her presence, a creeping hunger held just beyond the thorns of the hedge. She hated Solanum, but she’d take the creature’s danger compared to the forest. “I’m not sure my boots have thick enough soles.” She eyed her impractical heels.

“Solanum is elsewhere tonight.” Logan said. “I still have a prince to locate, as well as your prophecy to track down.”

“Never fear lass, I’ve brought ye something.” Rinnal pulled a long, delicate silver chain out of his pocket, a rough-cut chunk of deep blue sapphire suspended heavily on it. “Here girl.” He stepped close to her and fastened it around her neck where it lay warm and heavy between her breasts. He brushed a whiskery kiss on her lips.

“Hey!” Logan started forward.

Rinnal winked at Trina. “Just taking my payment for the gift.”

“What’s this?” Trina asked, twirling the large stone from its chain, its depths sparkling with reflected early starlight.

“Just a wee gift from me to you. Logan told us of the forest’s interest in you as a conduit. This should help.” Rinnal motioned her forward. “Go on, give it a try.”

She stepped cautiously out of the clearing and onto the forest floor. A thrumming vibrated her feet, and the stone began to glow deep blue. It warmed, spreading heat that seeped into her skin. “Much better,” she said, a huge worry lifting from her as she smiled in relief. “Thank you.”

“Of course dearie,” he said, taking her hand in his broad, rough one and leading her down the path. “We don’t get very many pretty maids out our way. We need to make sure you’re protected from all the nasties.”

Logan harrumphed behind her and Trina caught a sly, self-satisfied smile on Rinnal’s face.

“The forest is more than woods, ye see lass?” Rinnal said as they snuck through the lengthening shadows. “It has a mystery all on its own. Start down the wrong path and ye could end up Underhill, or worse.” He moved in front of her, his step sure and confident, to all appearances, a man in his prime. The way his words slipped in and out of the deep brogue, and the way he treated her, she suspected he was far older.

“A portal? But we had no trouble getting to the cottage.” Each of Trina’s stealthy steps crunched loudly into the forest’s night quiet.

“Ye need to stick to the right paths, lass. Some are anchored here, near the cottage. Some twine ‘round through different places.” He held a branch out of her way. “Strange places.”

He talked the entire trip, helping her across a stream, holding vines and branches out of the way. Logan, a glaring and silent presence, brought up the rear until they reached their destination, a moonlit tumbled pile of rocks at the foot of a sparsely treed hill. At their approach, ravens spun overhead into the night, breaking the forest’s grim silence with their righteous cawing. All but one flew off. It settled onto an overhanging branch careful not to look them head on and observed them out of one rolling eye.

Rinnal dropped her hand. Trina moved closer to Logan and his uncle went to the shadowed cairn, placed his hands on the rocks, and whispered.

A shiver rippled under her feet and the largest rocks inched apart revealing a deep dark hole.

“If ye get separated, come back here and the bird there will send a message.”

The raven eyed her with his lone, beady eye. Trina reached for the necklace to return to Rinnal.

He shook his head and waved her back. “Keep it, lass.”

“It’s too valuable, you don’t even know me.”

“If ye get lost it will help ye in the tunnels. It’s a key to the doors, and a guide.” He leaned over and brushed her cheek with a light kiss. “T’will lead you home, lass,” he said.

“Why are you being so nice to me?”

“Ye remind me of someone,” he said. “And it wouldn’t do for ye to be lost before ye’re found.” His bear hug enveloped her in cherry-vanilla tobacco, his beard scratching her face. “Take care out in the world. It’s a scary place beyond our borders.”

“Scarier than the wolves and bears you were warning me about in the forest?”

He barked his amusement, baring sharp, white teeth in a sly smile.

“Aye, lass, scarier than the beasties we have here. Humans are unpredictable, and the queen will reward them richly for your capture. Ye’d best get on your way.” He slapped Logan on the shoulder. “And you, boyo, you keep safe.” He walked away and was swallowed by the darkness.

“What was that about?” She held the chain up, the blue stone twirling and sparkling in the moonlight. “He’s just met me.”

Logan turned from examining the jagged hole.

“My uncles have seen many losses over the years. Just because they don’t know you well, doesn’t mean they care to see you dead. Come, we have a long way to go.” He extended his arm and helped her over the rocks and into the dark, damp mouth of the tunnels.

Inside, Logan took two lanterns from a shelf and flicked his hand to fill them with warm, glowing flame. She lifted hers high, the flickering light illuminated a smooth, wide path extending deep into the gloom.

“The ceiling isn’t very tall, you’re going to have trouble,” she said.

Logan hunched his shoulders, the top of his head brushing the roof, and moved into the tunnel. “I’ll manage.”

Trina walked close behind, her small lantern casting shadows down into the dark corners. The chunk of sapphire swinging from her neck glowed a soft blue until she could see almost as well by its light as by the lanterns.

“Tuck that away until we get there, we don’t want to attract attention,” Logan said.

“What kind of attention?” She hid the stone in the hollow of her cleavage.

“Any kind,” Logan ducked to avoid a low hanging rock.

They passed a small side tunnel and the sapphire glowed stronger inside the bustier. Tiny hairs lifted on the back of her neck and her skin pimpled into goose bumps. She peered deep into the shadows, the light from the lantern illuminated only a few feet into the dark and she couldn’t see anything. But the way her back crawled told her they had something’s attention.

She stretched her aura out attempting to establish her kinship with the earth. But even that was wrong. The earth had a strange, heavy presence down here. This was definitely not a human place. She couldn’t see elves being comfortable down here themselves and wondered who had carved the tunnels, and why Logan’s family used them.

Trina stayed close on Logan’s heels, trying to think about anything but the tickle on her neck of someone watching her, or the solid weight of the earth pressing down over her head. Each breath felt close, as if the dark air itself threatened suffocation.

“Where do the other tunnels go?” she asked, her voice sounding small and lost in the dark.

“Different locations,” Logan said in a hushed voice. “Some in this realm, some in the next. Others lead to Underhill, to other worlds, different times. This isn’t like walking a road. The tunnels are not linear, they’re more like portals.” He stopped short and turned to face her, the flickering shadows cutting deep, strange lines into his new face.