Azuri Fae (16 page)

Munro started to step forward and put himself between Eilidh and the queen, but the second Eilidh realised what he was doing, she grabbed his hand and pulled him back as though he were on a leash. She gave a quick curtsy. “By your leave, Your Majesty.” Eilidh led Munro out of the room before anyone could say another word.

Outside the dome, they moved in silence. He followed her beyond the narrow bridge, looking over his shoulder occasionally, uncertain if they would be followed.

As promised, Oron was waiting. As soon as they came close, he motioned them toward the portal. “Come quickly,” he said. “We must return to Skye at once.”

“What happened?” Eilidh asked.

“Go, child,” he said. “We must reach the gate before it closes at dawn.”

Eilidh’s mind whirled as they raced through the Otherworld. It was happening all over again. Exile. She had let her guard down, begun to feel safe. She’d had her father back. And now the dream had been snatched away. This time, it felt even worse. The queen herself had accused Eilidh of treason. Despite the queen’s assurances, Eilidh worried for her father. He’d been through so much in the past century.

Astral magic roiled within her, and her control slipped. Her focus went hazy, and hers and Munro’s clothing returned to the modern fashions of the human realm. Munro’s presence was the only thing holding her together. He became the foundation beneath her feet. Determination carried him forward, and she followed his aura like a beacon.

When they arrived at the gate, they ran through without stopping. There wasn’t time for a forlorn goodbye to her homeland.
It’s happening again.

Her nerves didn’t settle until she breathed in the thinner air of the borderlands. When her newfound earth powers drained away as they travelled through the protective enchantments on Skye, she finally began to feel safe. She had a million questions for Oron, but the elder didn’t pause to explain his meeting with the queen. He merely told Eilidh and Munro he’d called an emergency congregation of the Higher Conclave, and she was not to leave the safety of his house until he sent for her.

Munro leaned against a wall, arms crossed, thinking, while Eilidh sat on the floor and meditated. After an hour of concerted effort, her mind had yet to relax. Her emotions whirled out of control after the encounter with the queen, so he suggested she try the mental exercises that had become part of her daily training program. When talking didn’t help and resting proved impossible, this was the only thing he could think of to help her calm down. Even now, she wrestled with her own mind as though she were fighting dragons.

Quietly, he slipped out the door and went into the kitchen. He didn’t feel comfortable making himself at home, even though Oron had said many times Munro should treat this like his own house. But hunger overwhelmed politeness, and he made himself a sandwich of sorts, or as close as he could approximate with the odd food choices Oron kept.

Munro hadn’t eaten since just before their journey, and he’d run many miles that night. They’d made it back well before dawn, and the sun had only begun to rise. The lightening sky lifted his spirits for no reason he could explain. After washing the dishes he’d used, he turned toward a large east-facing window. He jumped when he saw a faerie he didn’t recognise in the garden outside, then froze as realisation dawned. The build was familiar, the shape of the face, the hair, but the eyes were wrong. He lifted a hand in greeting to be sure, and the figure in the garden mirrored his movements.

Munro stepped forward and studied his reflection. It had been partly a trick of the light, but his eyes glowed strangely. His skin too had a shining quality, and his hair seemed to have gone a shade or two lighter. He thought of himself as an average-looking guy, so seeing his image now, he hardly recognised the strikingly handsome man. It was him, but better, stronger, more vibrant. He appeared older, which was strange considering how smooth and perfect his skin looked. Pushing back his hair, Munro looked at his ears. He hadn’t even felt them change, but now each one had a subtle point at the top.

“Holy shit,” he said to the man in the glass.

Light footsteps in the hall told him someone approached. He scrubbed his hair forward with his hand, not wanting anyone else to see the full extent of the changes.

Alyssa walked into the kitchen and took an apple from a wooden bowl. With a small paring knife, she began to peel it in one smooth motion, round and round the fruit, not acknowledging Munro’s presence.

“Good morning,” he said quietly. “Off to bed?”

She smiled without looking up. “Not yet. Why do you ask? Have you changed your mind about bedding me?”

“No. I mean, look, it isn’t personal. It’s just…”

Alyssa smiled. “It’s all right. I told her you’d say no.”

Munro stopped short. “You mean you and Eilidh talked about it
before
you propositioned me?”

“Of course. Do you think I would have suggested it if she hadn’t asked me to? Not that you aren’t growing more handsome by the day, young druid, but Eilidh is a guest in my grandfather’s house. I would not risk offending her, considering how much she obviously cares for you.”

“She asked you to seduce me?” His mind reeled. “Why would she do that?”

Alyssa shrugged. “Perhaps she thought you needed companionship? I don’t know. I told her you would say no. Perhaps,” she said in a tone that was almost too casual, “she wished to test your loyalty.”

Anger rose in Munro’s chest.
It was a bloody test?

Alyssa’s eyes widened as she watched his expression. “I’ve said something wrong. Forgive me, druid. I’m young and not as socially adept as a human my age would be.”

“Don’t try that bullshit on me,” he said. “You knew exactly what you were doing. Just like she did.” He strode toward the door.

“Forgive me, please,” she said. “I meant no harm.”

He turned back to respond to Alyssa, but just as he opened his mouth, Munro felt the connection between his mind and Eilidh’s shut down. Completely. It wasn’t like the vague distance he felt when she travelled into the Otherworld. It was as though she’d ceased to exist. Alyssa forgotten, Munro ran through the house, shouting Eilidh’s name.

Returning to the meditation chamber where he’d left her, he was surprised to find she wasn’t there. Without his internal sense of her, he felt like he was searching with his eyes closed. He took the public areas of the house first. After Oron’s explicit instruction to stay put, he doubted she would leave. His heart wouldn’t let him add the word
voluntarily
.

When she didn’t seem to be in any public part of the property, including the gardens, he went to her bedroom. It was the last place he expected to find her, considering how wound up she had been, but he saw her as soon as he came to the doorway. She wasn’t alone. She sat on the edge of the swing bed, one foot on the floor, slowly rocking the bed. Lying beside her was Griogair. Munro froze, his mind reeling, when he saw Eilidh stroke the prince’s face. She whispered to him in a trilling language Munro couldn’t understand.

“What the…?”

Eilidh cut Munro off with a glare and held her finger to her lips, motioning for silence. She stood and quietly walked to the door, closing it behind her and Munro.

“What the hell is going on?” Munro asked in a growling whisper. “And why can’t I feel your thoughts anymore?”

“Outside,” Eilidh said. She led Munro to the garden and turned to face him. “Griogair barely escaped. The queen tried to kill him.”

Curious, Munro thought. He didn’t
look
injured. “She wouldn’t just order that done?”

“A faerie of Griogair’s power? No, that would not be possible.” Eilidh laughed bitterly. “You do not sound as though you even care, to speak so casually of whether she could order it done or do it herself. Does it matter?”

Munro sat on one of the cold stone benches, grateful his new druidic power meant the temperature didn’t bother him. He couldn’t even remember where his coat was. “Why can’t I feel you, Eilidh?”

Her expression softened. “I don’t know how I did it. I just found the right button to push, as you would say. Our bond is not broken, only our sharing of emotions.”

“Can you un-push it?”

“Perhaps.”

“But you don’t want to,” he said.

“The queen may come for him. He claims she’s lost all grip on her reason,” Eilidh said. “I can feel your anger. Isn’t it good for us to have space for our own thoughts from time to time?”

“Was he hurt in the attack?”

“Not seriously, no. He was fortunate she had enough dignity not to chase him, while he didn’t mind running for his life. It’s the earth shield making him sick. He can’t touch the Ways of Earth on the island, and one as powerful as he would find that more painful than most.”

Munro didn’t like her wistful tone when she described how powerful the prince was. “I talked to Alyssa just a minute ago,” he said. If Eilidh could change the subject, he could too.

Eilidh stared at him blankly. “She lives here now. She came to care for her sister Fluranach while the child receives instruction from Oron. The girl is quite gifted.”

“She told me you asked her to seduce me. Is that true?”

Eilidh looked at the sky. The sun had inched above the horizon, and the morning’s red hues had faded to blue.

“Was it some kind of test? To see if I would be faithful to you? Or were you trying to deflect my attraction for you by passing me off to someone else?”

“Would it have worked?”

“Would you want it to?” Munro shot back. “Eilidh, what are you doing?” He couldn’t understand her thinking, what she was trying to accomplish. “You keep running hot and cold with me. One minute you’re getting other women to try to sleep with me, then you’re jumping into bed with me yourself. Next you’re pawing Prince Lothario like he’s God’s gift.”

“You’re so angry,” she said quietly.

“You’re damned right I’m angry,” he shouted, not caring that she probably didn’t understand half the slang he’d just used.

Her silver eyes narrowed. “I have more important things to worry about than your trifling human outbursts.”

“I wouldn’t be
having
an outburst if you weren’t intentionally screwing with my emotions.” He wanted to shake her. He wasn’t a violent person by nature, not even one to slam doors. But if there had been a solid wooden door between him and Eilidh right now, he would have slammed it with all the strength he had.

“I’ve been exiled. Again. My life threatened. My father’s life. Now Griogair is under a death order, and we could be headed for civil war. The kingdom could very well fall apart over this rift in our people. Do you think I care about your feelings right now?”

“No,” he said hotly. “You’ve made that abundantly clear. What I don’t understand is why you’re doing this. What did I do or say to make you want to hurt me?”

The anger slipped from her face, leaving only sadness. “Quinton,” she said, “I need to be alone with Griogair right now.”

If he hadn’t been sitting already, he would have needed to sit. “You need to be alone with him? Or you need to speak with him alone? Because those are two totally different things.”

“Go home,” she said. “I have important things I must deal with.”

He felt like he’d been punched in the gut. “You are my home, Eilidh. Push the button. Let me back in.”

She breathed slowly and deliberately, then looked away, as though fighting tears. “If you won’t go home, just leave. Griogair is waiting for me upstairs.” Eilidh turned and walked away.

He sat in the winter morning for ten minutes, ignoring the cold, his mind spinning with confusion and anger.

“She does care for you. We fae, especially kingdom fae, aren’t like you in so many ways. I have had a few human friends over the years, so I know.”

He hadn’t heard Alyssa come into the garden. “Did she send you out here?”

“No,” Alyssa said. “I came because I could hear you shouting from the kitchen. Every faerie within ten miles probably heard you. You have a strong voice.” She chuckled. “I thought you might need a friend.”

Munro looked into her eyes. He did need a friend, and without Eilidh, he didn’t have a soul in the world who understood what he was becoming. “Want to go into the city? I could use a drink.”

“We have honeyed froth or fig juice,” she said.

“I need a beer. By the time we get to Portree, we can find a pub that’s open for lunch.” They might have to wait an hour or two, but he didn’t think he could stand being here one minute more. He couldn’t return to Perth empty-handed either. He hadn’t forgotten for one minute about those forty-five missing villagers. Without help from Eilidh or Griogair, he didn’t have a hope in hell of finding them.