The Stolen: An American Faerie Tale (11 page)

 

CHAPTER TWELVE

E
dward sat with Caitlin on the couch, but didn't look at her. He took another swallow of water, and the color began to return to his face. He shook his head. “I don't know if your blood won't work, or I couldn't do it.”

She watched him, anxiety eating at the edges of her brain.

“I'm sorry, if I were just better, stronger—­” Tears brimmed in his eyes, and he wiped at them.

Caitlin inched closer and reached out for his hand.

Edward took it.

His eyes were sad, but they were his. She sighed as relief flooded her. All she saw was the same strength, kindness, and compassion she'd come to rely on over the last five years.

“It's okay,” she said softly, squeezing his hand. “I know you tried.”

“I'll, um, I'll try again,” he said with a shaky voice. “We'll keep trying until—­”

The sound of an engine just became audible outside.

They looked at each other, holding their breath.

When the sound grew closer, Edward stood and walked to the door.

Caitlin followed, hope welling up inside her.

“It's him,” Edward said with obvious relief as he looked through the peephole.

Caitlin wiped sweaty palms on the legs of her pants. The knock on the door made her jump.

“Open the door, lad. It's me,” Brendan said.

Edward passed his hand over the knob and said something under his breath.

Caitlin's heart climbed into her throat, and it seemed to take months for the door to open.

Edward stepped back. “Jesus! What happened to you?”

“Had a bit of a run-­in with the oíche—­” Brendan's eyes went wide when he saw Caitlin.

“Oh, merciful God!” She gasped at the sight of him covered in dried blood, his shirt soaked through.

“They're going to keep watch outside—­” a tall, blond man with pointed ears said as he walked up behind Brendan, but he froze when he saw Caitlin.

Through the open door, Caitlin saw three tall, slender forms in long black coats taking up positions around the outside of the house. She looked around, hope fading. “What's going on? Where's Fiona?”

The blond man seemed to blanch, and he stared at Caitlin for a long moment before turning to Brendan. “She's the child's mother? The one who was put under a slumber?”

Brendan looked away.

Caitlin grabbed the doorframe, a sob overtaking her. “Fiona?”

Edward's arms went around her, helping her stand.

“Please,” Edward said. “Tell me that's not—­”

The blond man blinked, regaining his composure.

“No, the blood's not hers,” Brendan said. “She wasn't there. It was a trap. They used this.”

Caitlin took the pink blanket from Brendan's hand. It was Fiona's, her favorite.

“I do hate to be a bother,” the blond man said to Edward, “but would you be so kind as to invite us in?”

Edward pointed outside. “Who are they? And who are you?”

“Dante,” Brendan said through gritted teeth. “He's the Rogue Court Magister—­”

“Rogue Court?” Edward asked.

“Jesus, man,” Brendan said. “We can have class once we're through the bloody door. Just invite the nice elf inside, would you?”

Edward stepped back. “Elf?” He looked at Dante's ears, then back to his face. “But you don't look—­I mean, sorry. Please, come in.”

Caitlin watched Dante put Brendan's arm over his shoulder and help him inside. She gripped the blanket and brought it up to her face. It still smelled like Fiona's baby shampoo.

Edward closed the door and raised the wards. “She woke an hour or so ago. I don't know why or how.”

Caitlin took a long breath, then eased her grip on the blanket.

“Doesn't matter right now,” Dante said. “Brendan took quite a beating. Do you have some place I can get him cleaned up? I treated his wounds, but I still want a closer look at him.”

“You're not me mother,” Brendan said. “I just need me a stiff drink and a place to have a sit down, is all.”

”What now?” Caitlin asked, just above a whisper.

Brendan looked at her and his countenance softened. “Don't you worry none, love, I'm not done looking. Not by a da—­” Brendan's breath caught when he turned, as if he was having trouble breathing, then he tried again. “Not nearly done.”

“We have an idea on how to find her,” Dante said. “Assuming the wizard can manage it.”

“Eddy?” Thoughts of the recent failure raced through Caitlin's mind, and she felt terribly ashamed.

“Me?” Edward asked.

“Eddy?” Dante stifled a laugh.

“Aye,” Brendan said. “All fear Eddy, the great and powerful.”

Edward stiffened. “I prefer Edward, actually.”

Brendan and Dante both chuckled but stopped when they saw Caitlin's scowl.

“I really need to look Brendan over and make sure I didn't miss any injuries,” Dante said.

“I told you,” Brendan said. “I'll be fine—­”

“No, he's right,” Caitlin said. Brendan needed medical attention, even if he was a condescending ass. “I'm a nurse, and I've worked in the ER. I'll look him over.” She turned to Eddy. “Where's the bathroom?”

“Listen, love, I appreciate it. But you're not me moth—­”

“Shut up,” Caitlin said, glaring at him.

Dante smirked. “Well, that clears up some questions. I'd listen to her.”

Brendan shot Dante a glare before nodding to Edward, who led them all to the bathroom.

It was immaculate, which wasn't surprising, considering Edward's personality. A large clawfoot bathtub was against one wall, sink against another, and countertops of what looked like marble were reflected in a large mirror hanging behind them. Caitlin flinched when she saw her reflection.

“I'll get the first-­aid kit and my bag,” Edward said.

Caitlin turned Brendan so he could lean on the counter. “Take off your shirt.” She began to lift it for him. “Let me have a look.”

Brendan pulled his shirt off, grunting in pain.

Caitlin gasped when she saw his upper body. There were cuts, scratches, and bruises, and that was just what she could see through the blood. Nothing had been spared.

“What's this?” she asked, examining the bandage on his shoulder.

“
Dóú craiceann,
” Dante said. “A bandage we grow. It works like artificial skin.”

Caitlin blinked when she saw his almost luminescent, solid green eyes in the bright light of the bathroom. A shiver ran through her. Memories of the art opening and glowing eyes flashed in her head, but she swallowed and pushed them aside.

“Could you hand me that washcloth?” she asked Dante. “Where's Eddy with that first-­aid kit?”

Dante handed her a collection of cloths. “I have my healing kit.” He pulled the black case from inside his jacket. “Nothing against your skills, but I doubt a mortal kit will be as effective.”

Caitlin almost stepped aside, a habit from working at a hospital. Like all nurses, she'd learned to defer to doctors, but she reminded herself that Dante wasn't a doctor, or at least she didn't think so. “Just set it there.”

She cleaned the blood off while Brendan filled her in on what happened in the warehouse. She tried to listen, but she'd slipped into a numb sort of daze, her mind focused on Fiona.

When Dante took one of the soiled cloths, she watched him twist it under the running water as the blood ran down the drain.

“Who are you, anyway?” she asked.

“I told you,” Brendan said.

“But what's a Rogue Court Magister?” Caitlin asked. “You have a healing kit; are you a doctor?”

“Not in the technical sense, no,” Dante said. “Magister is a sort of local government official, but not.”

“Can we chat later?” Brendan asked. “It's a bit cold in here, and I am half naked.”

“He's shy around women,” Dante said.

Caitlin cleaned the last of the blood away and saw the scars that ran over Brendan's body and the intricate Celtic knot tattoos that went from both elbows, up over his shoulders and onto his back and chest, as well as a small line of symbols tattooed up his sternum. She glanced into his eyes for just a moment, and she could see that the search for Fiona was personal for him too, though she couldn't say how she knew. She might not know his reasons, but he obviously wasn't someone who gave up. That, at least, gave her some reassurance.

While cleaning the blood from Brendan's back, she found more gunshot wounds and a few cracked ribs. Reluctantly, Caitlin moved away and let Dante step in. She tried to push aside her growing sense of being useless and focus instead on piecing her sense of reality back together. Feeling like the damsel in distress was leaving a rancid taste in her mouth.

“What's that?” Edward asked as Dante applied the last bandage. He held a black doctor's bag in one hand and a large red bag with a white circle and red cross in the other.

“Later,” Dante said.

“I have some painkillers in my bag and a suture kit,” Edward said.

“Thanks,” Dante said. “But not necessary.” He finished setting the bandage and patted Brendan's shoulder. “You're all set.”

Caitlin noticed Edward glance at Brendan, then avoid her gaze.

“Me bag is by the door,” Brendan said. “I need to get me a fresh shirt.”

“And we need to ready the wizard,” Dante said.

“For what?” Edward's face was pale again.

Caitlin bit her lower lip. She knew he wasn't fine, but he was putting on a brave face. Her heart filled with warmth at the gesture. She couldn't help but wonder what he was so afraid of, and what, if anything, it had to do with the spell.

Unbidden, another thought came to her: what had taken him so long to get his black bag? He always kept it close by.

 

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

C
aitlin's eyes moved in time with her pounding heart, darting from Edward, to Dante, to Brendan. After a few rounds, her eyes settled on Kris, who looked even younger than usual. She'd been pulled into this for no other reason than being Caitlin's friend. How many more ­people would be dragged into this before it was done?

“What about her?” Dante asked, looking at Kris.

“I have no idea what I'm going to tell her,” Caitlin said. “I still don't believe any of this myself.” She let out a long breath and bit down on the foul taste of the words she was about to say. “But she's safe here, for now. At the moment, Fiona is the most important thing.”

Edward stood close to her. “That's true, but won't it be dawn soon?”

“Let me.” Dante sprinkled something in Kris's eyes as he whispered to her.

Caitlin felt a familiar shiver pass over her.

“That will keep her from waking,” Dante said.

Brendan gave him a questioning look, but neither of them said anything.

Dante turned to Edward. “Now, to the business at hand?”

“What exactly is it I need to do?” Edward asked, standing a little straighter.

“We're going to be summoning an oíche what's probably hiding in Tír na nÓg, by using his true name,” Brendan said.

“Okay . . .” Edward said.

“We think one of the higher-­ranking oíche knows where your daughter is,” Dante said to Caitlin. “Brendan has his true name. True names can be used to summon and compel fae and other beings of magic.”

“But not,” Caitlin said, then tried to think of the right word, “mortals?”

Dante shook his head. “No, I'm afraid not. Mortals aren't bound to magic that way.”

“I've only read about summoning,” Edward said. “I've never actually tried it. It seemed a little dangerous.” He looked terrified, and somehow that fear was comforting to Caitlin.

“I just . . .” Edward looked at Dante. “I'm not saying no, but wouldn't you have better odds of success than me?”

Caitlin ignored the stab of guilt she felt for agreeing with him.

“No, I can't do it,” Dante said. “I'm a fae and so is Justin, however much I dislike the notion. King Fergus and Queen Teagan can summon fae against their will and compel them to give information or perform a task. A human wizard can too—­”

“If you use their true name,” Edward said.

Dante nodded. “Just so. You're not bound by the same laws.”

“So he won't be happy with me yanking him from wherever he is and depositing him here to answer to me. Something only the king or queen should be able to do,” Edward said.

Dante nodded again. “That's pretty much it.”

“Well, put like that, this should be a piece of cake,” Edward said, forcing a smile.

Caitlin took Edward's hand in hers and squeezed it. “You can do it, Eddy.” She tried to pack the words with confidence she wasn't feeling.

Edward turned beseeching eyes to her. “But if I screw up—­”

“Oh, for feck's sake,” Brendan said. “Man up and grow a set of—­”

“What my tactless oaf of a friend means to say,” Dante said, “is that I'll be helping you.”

Edward looked at Caitlin for a long while . . . at least it felt like a long while. Then his lips turned up in that crooked smile that always made her feel better. “I'll do whatever it takes.”

Caitlin leaned her head against his shoulder so he wouldn't see the tears. “Thank you,” she whispered.

Dante stood up. “All right. We're going to need a circle.”

“There's one in the basement,” Edward said.

Caitlin, Brendan, and Dante all looked at him.

“What?” he said, shrugging. “This was my grandfather's house. This was all here when I got the place.”

Dante chuckled under his breath. “Okay, lead the way.”

Edward opened a door in the hallway to reveal stairs that ended in an empty room fifty feet across and forty wide. The whole room was made of cut stone, and in the middle, carved into the bare floor, was a large circle. It was much like the one Edward had drawn in his study, except this one was nearly five feet across.

Dante came to an abrupt stop and gaped. “I wasn't expecting this.” He knelt down and examined the circle. “This is really, really well made. I can't see any flaws in it.”

“So it'll work?” Edward asked, relief in his tone.

“It will at that,” Dante said. “Let's go over what you'll need to do.”

“Love, you probably ought to wait outside,” Brendan said to Caitlin. “This is like to get ugly, and it won't be easy.”

“No, I'm not going anywhere,” Caitlin said. “Not like it could be worse than what I've gone through so far.”

“Aye, fair play that.” Brendan turned to Dante. “You tell our man the bad news?”

“Bad news?” Edward said. “What bad news?”

Caitlin glared at Brendan.

Dante sighed. “I was getting to it. We think they might be getting help from a wizard.”

Edward licked his lips and swallowed. “What does that mean? You don't think it's me, do you?”

“No,” Dante said. “It's just he might try to protect them. Summoning Justin could be dangerous if that's the case. More dangerous.”

“Isn't the circle supposed to protect me?”

“It will, but only from what you're summoning.” Dante put his hand on Edward's shoulder. “This is a good circle, best I've seen in a long time. It should protect you from mortal magic as well. You just need to be ready.”

“Ready for what?” Edward asked. “I still don't understand what I'm supposed to do.”

“Ready to fight back,” Brendan said. “I take it the fire I saw in your hand earlier wasn't just for show?”

Caitlin stared at Edward, mouthing “fire?”

Edward shrugged “No. I know some offensive magic. I haven't really had any need to use it though.”

“Well, you still may not,” Dante said. “We just want to make sure you understand the risk of what you're about to do.”

Edward smiled at Caitlin, and though it was faltering, it was that crooked, dimpled smile she knew so well. “I'm not backing out,” he said to her. “I know she's not my daughter, but she means a lot to me, too.”

Caitlin winced, but she knew she deserved that.

“No, I didn't mean—­” Edward said. “I'll do whatever it takes.” He turned to Dante. “Just tell me what to do.”

“I'll be right back, lads,” Brendan said.

“Where're you going?” Caitlin asked, but he was already up the stairs, so she looked back to Edward. “You can do this,” she whispered to herself.

“First, you'll need to close the circle,” Dante said. “Once that's done, you need to open the conduit and hold it open. Be careful not to cross over the circle's edge. The circle holds magic and magical beings, which means I can't break it, but you can. If you do, the protections will shatter.”

Edward nodded.

“Brendan will give you Justin's name and you'll compel him three times to appear. The third time, he should manifest in the center of the circle, which will also serve to hold him.”

“What then?”

“You'll compel him to answer our questions. When you ask, use his name. I'll tell you what to ask so he can't give us misleading answers. When he's first summoned and with each question, there'll be a battle of wills. That's where the compulsion comes in.”

“Battle of wills?” Caitlin asked. “What happens if Eddy loses?”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence. I can be stubborn when I want to be.”

Caitlin looked apologetically at Edward.

“Justin would escape,” Dante said. “He could also get a shot off on his way out.”

“So, don't lose,” Edward said.

Dante smiled. “You'll have the advantage. You've got his true name, you'll have the circle protecting you, and this is your demesne.”

“You'll be fine, boss,” Brendan said as he came back down the stairs. “Just be sure of yourself.”

“He's right,” Dante said. “That's the most important part of this, or any other kind of magic. You have to believe you can do it. If you don't, there's no point in trying.”

“I can do it.” Edward laughed a little. “No pressure, right?”

Caitlin gave him a hug and kissed his cheek, her lips lingering a bit longer than ever before. “I believe in you.”

Edward hugged her back. “We'll find out where she is and we'll get her back.”

“I know.” Caitlin broke the embrace and stepped back.

“Back here, love.” Brendan pulled Caitlin several paces away. “If you're going to stay, you need to keep out of harm's way and let the man work.”

All her concerns and questions about Edward's ability and behavior threatened to bubble up, but she pushed them back down.

“Tell him Justin's name.” Dante put his fingers in his ears.

Brendan stepped up to Edward. “Justarisheeth. Just-­are-­ee-­sheeth.” He said each syllable slowly, pronouncing each part. “Repeat it back to me.”

“Just-­arr-­ee-­sh-­ee-­th,” Edward said. “Justarisheeth. Is that right?”

“Aye, that's it.” Brendan patted his shoulder. “Make sure you pronounce it just like that.”

“I'll get it right. Don't worry, I got it.” He repeated it a ­couple more times under his breath.

“Okay then.” Brendan nodded at Dante, who took his fingers from his ears. “Don't worry, you'll do fine. Just keep focused.”

“Why'd Dante cover his ears?” Caitlin asked Brendan.

“He's forbidden from getting another fae's true name from anyone but the owner.”

“Take a minute and clear your mind,” Dante said. His voice was calm and even. “Let your worries and doubts drift aside.”

Edward closed his eyes and took in long, slow breaths.

“Let the magic flow through you and over you,” Dante said. “Don't push it, don't force it. Instead, guide it, direct it.”

Caitlin watched as the seconds ticked by. After what felt like a week, Edward opened his eyes and whispered as he touched the circle. Tension filled the room, as if it had become pressurized. Instinctively, she found herself yawning to try to pop her ears.

“Won't do no good,” Brendan said. “You'll get used to the feeling soon enough.”

The circle began to fill with a soft blue radiance, as if someone poured the fluid from a glow stick into the etching. The intensity increased, and the lighting of the room seemed to diminish.

For a brief instant, Caitlin wondered what they'd do if this didn't work. No, it would work. It had to work. Eddy wouldn't let himself fail.

Dante spoke into Edward's ear. The air in the room grew heavier, and Caitlin felt like she was trying to breathe through a wet wool blanket.

Edward spoke softly and his fingers moved in the air.

The minutes dragged.

There was a cold stab of panic in Caitlin's heart when she saw Edward wobble. She took a step forward to help him, but Brendan caught her arm.

“Stay back. Dante will take care of him. It'll be all right. He's just not used to exerting himself. It can take a toll on you if you're not used to it.”

“Are you sure?”

Brendan nodded and didn't let go of her arm. “He'll be fine. I wouldn't have suggested this if I didn't think he could pull it off.”

The room lurched. Caitlin's stomach knotted and her knees went weak. Brendan's arm wrapped around her and pulled her close, holding her up.

“I got you, love.”

A whirling mass of white clouds emerged in the center of the circle and electricity arced off them. It was like watching a miniature lightning storm.

Dante covered his ears. “Now.”

“Justarisheeth! I summon you!” Edward shouted, his voice reverberating oddly, as if echoing from several directions at once.

An explosion of white light erupted in the center of the clouds and drew them in. It was like a star in the center of a nebula.

“Justarisheeth! I summon you!” he shouted again. He wavered as the clouds began to turn gray, growing darker as they churned.

The room began to shake.

Edward opened his mouth to speak the third time, and red lightning shot out from the center of the clouds. It hit the air at the circle's edge and lashed out at different points.

Caitlin looked from Edward to Dante and then to Brendan. The latter was staring with hard eyes at the circle, his jaw muscles flexed.

She gasped as Edward stumbled forward, but he caught himself inches from the edge of the circle. Her body tensed and her hands started to shake. “Please . . .”

Edward closed his eyes and lifted his right hand, palm facing the circle. “Justarisheeth! Oíche-­sidhe! I summon you, now!”

Caitlin could hear the strain in the command, even though it was shouted. Her stomach did an intricate gymnastics routine and she held her breath.

The red lightning stopped, the clouds were pulled into a violent implosion, and the room shook again. Bright light drew itself in, then exploded against the unseen wall. When the light faded, a beautiful young man stood where the swirling clouds had been.

Familiar fear poured over Caitlin. The terror fought against the relief of knowing that the spell had worked and her desire to make him pay for kidnapping Fiona.

Black eyes burned as they scanned the room. His pointed teeth flashed as his mouth twisted into a snarl and his gaze settled first on Edward, now on his knees and breathing hard. Contempt poured from the faerie's eyes, and they moved from Edward to Dante. The pure and raw hatred in them made Caitlin look away. She'd never seen anyone look at someone like that, and she hoped she never would again.

“Magister,” Justin spat, more than said. “You'll pay for this.” Sharp claws grew from his fingertips and he dragged them down the invisible barrier created by the circle. Long, bright blue scratches hung in his wake before fading.