Azuri Fae (29 page)

The azuri were content to travel the forests at a slow enough pace to match the speed and strength of the human druids, just to give them more chances to hear the story over again. It made Munro proud, the way they spoke of Eilidh with such respect and reverence. The way she’d tried to spare Cadhla’s life was already a thing of legend. When Trath heard about his mother’s death, he took it quietly, but nodded when he learned Eilidh had tried to show her mercy.

It was nearly daybreak when they arrived at the Skye gate hours later. Some fae passed through eagerly, others waited, staring up at its shining metal bars. All made it through before the gates closed at dawn.

Munro stayed close to the druids. As had happened to him, they each experienced a powerful reaction. Rory fell to his knees. Aaron became violently ill, but once his stomach had purged, he quickly recovered. Phillip’s reaction was more sedate, but Munro could see the intense satisfaction as he breathed in the Otherworld air. Douglas wept openly as he stood beside Trath.

“I feel great,” Rory said suddenly as he got to his feet. He grinned at Munro, and his pale blue eyes started to shine.

They stood in a forest not too different from the one they’d left behind on Skye, surrounded by azuri fae who watched the process with fascination. As with the forest near the Ashdawn gate, Munro could tell it wasn’t anywhere on earth with its glowing plants and deep, loamy air.

Soon, a host of kingdom faeries emerged from the forests around them, smiling and welcoming the azuri like long-lost brothers, which Munro supposed they were. What surprised him most, though, was that Griogair led the group. “Welcome home,” he said. “We have made a place for you in the city of Canerecht. Your elders are there awaiting your arrival. If you have family and homes you remember, you may return, of course. If you do not, we will provide whatever you need while you find your place. Queen Eilidh has sworn that none of you will be persecuted and you can make your way as you please in the realm without fear.”

The druids recovered from the shock of arrival into the Otherworld as Griogair made formal greetings to many of the azuri. The kingdom fae mingled among the newcomers, making them feel welcome and safe. After a short while, the prince made a beeline for Trath and Munro. “The wedding is at nightfall. I expect you both to be there.” He furrowed his brow at the pair.

Trath tilted his head. “Of course, Father.”

Griogair exhaled with relief. He must have worried his son would not welcome his new step-mother and might make a public spectacle. So far, Munro had no idea why everyone thought Trath was such a problem. They spoke about him like he was a renegade, but Munro hadn’t seen anything like that.

“And you, druid?” Griogair asked quietly.

“If it’s all the same to you,
Your Highness,
I think I’ll skip it.”

“It isn’t,” Griogair said. “Please. This is something I need you to do. It is part of my wedding gift for Eilidh. If you will not watch the ceremony, then find Oron before it begins. He will show you where you can wait for me.”

“Nothing sounds more torturous,” Munro said. “But fine, I’ll be there.”

“Thank you,” Griogair replied. He hurried away before Munro could object further.

“God, what an ass,” he muttered. Realising who was standing nearby, he added, “Sorry, I forget he’s your dad.”

Trath laughed. “No need to worry. I find your irreverence refreshing. It will do him good to have you around, I think.”

“I suppose if we’re going to the wedding, we can’t go to Canerecht to see the new settlement yet.”

“No, we should go to the Wayfinder Palace. It will be many hours before the ceremony starts, but I am sure there are seamstresses waiting to put me into some ridiculous formal clothing. I’m sure they’ll want to put feathers on you too.”

“No way,” Munro said, then laughed when he realised Trath had been joking. “I’m not going to the ceremony. I’ll go find Oron, like Griogair said. If he’s going to do something nice for Eilidh, what kind of sod would I be to not want to help? But I can’t watch the wedding.” The dread was building in his stomach already. “They can’t ask me to watch.”

Eilidh sat stiffly in the anteroom in a daze. If the coronation had been simple and profound, her mating ceremony was like nothing she’d ever imagined. She knew millions of fae made up her new kingdom, but she hadn’t expected hundreds of thousands would turn out to witness the ritual. Her handmaidens, none of whom she knew, giggled at her wide-eyed surprise.

She and Griogair met on a dais of sparkling crystals, lifted high above the open-air courtyard filled with fae nobles. She only vaguely remembered the vows they made to one another, the silk ribbons that bound their hands together as they spoke well-practised words. Griogair smiled at her kindly, whispering encouragements when she felt most overwhelmed. “Almost there,” he said.

Voices, gentle hands, and guiding faces led her from one part of the ceremony to the other, until at last, her mind buzzing, barely able to take it all in, she and Griogair walked arm in arm down a mile-long promenade, the voices of thousands of their people cheering and shouting blessings and well-wishes. When they got to the end, he took her hand lightly and kissed it. “Don’t be afraid,” he said.

They parted and went into identical tents at the edge of the palace grounds. To call it a tent was perhaps an understatement. It was larger than Munro’s home back in Perth. Her heart ached as she thought of her druid. She had anticipated he would stay in the human realm during her first night with Griogair, but she could feel Munro close. Throughout the entire evening, she’d thought of little besides him. Part of her wanted to run away, but somehow she managed to keep one foot moving in front of the other.

Her handmaidens removed her elaborate sky-blue wedding dress. She was grateful, because she didn’t think she could take it off without them. She longed for her jeans and ‘Visit Scotland’ sweatshirt, her tennis shoes and slouchy socks. Her mind went to the day when Munro bought her those clothes. Back then she’d had no idea she would be sitting here. She sighed.

“What is it, Your Majesty?” one of the young faerie women asked her.

“Sasha, is it?” Eilidh said.

“Sharylia,” the girl replied.

“I’m sorry,” Eilidh said. “Sharylia.” The girls all gasped. Queens don’t apologise, Eilidh reminded herself.

“Is something wrong, Your Majesty?”

“No,” Eilidh said. “I was just thinking of tonight. Of my mate.”

The girls exchanged glances, working to help Eilidh remove the complicated undergarments that gave the extravagant dress its shape.

“You needn’t worry,” Sharylia said. “If I may be so bold as to say, His Highness seems a most kind faerie, noble in every sense. He will be gentle if, perhaps, you have not before…”

Eilidh stared. For a faerie of a hundred and twenty-five to have remained a virgin was ridiculous, but it was not the most ludicrous of the rumours she’d heard springing up about her already.

“I’m sure he will,” she said softly. It was time. She stood before them naked, and they slipped a sheer robe around her.

“Are you ready, Your Majesty?” one of the girls asked.

No
, she thought, but nodded. She let her thoughts caress the connection with Munro, then as she promised, she erected a wall between them. As much as she wanted to feel his love and strength, she would not make him endure her sorrow as she lay with Griogair.

One of the girls pulled a cord, and the back of the tent opened. Eilidh walked through, her head held high. Dozens of attendants beamed at her and guided her to the centre of the path behind the palace walls. She looked up to see a servant guiding Griogair forward. He wore a robe identical to her own, a tradition of the consummation ceremony.

He looked nervous, and that endeared her to him. She’d never seen him look anything but cocky and self-assured. She reminded herself that while she made personal sacrifices, he did too, and she must always honour that. When they met on the pebble walkway, he said nothing. He simply held his arm out to her, and she took it lightly.

They walked down the path, through the last remaining attendants, until finally they were alone, followed at a distance by four priests who would discretely witness their completion. They didn’t speak as they walked the flower-strewn path to the immense bed, suspended between four towering trees. Faint blue lights danced in the clearing. It was everything Eilidh could have wanted, if only she could have been there with Munro. A tear slid down her cheek, and Griogair saw it. He frowned and looked sad as well. With a tender swipe of the back of his finger, he wiped the tear away, leaned close and whispered, “Don’t cry.”

She pulled away from him. “I can’t do this,” she said softly. “Please. Tell them I was too afraid. Tell them anything. Tell them I’m like ice with no passion in me, but I can’t do this.”

A smile quirked across Griogair’s face unexpectedly.

“What?” she hissed. “Is this funny to you?”

“Eilidh, it’s me. Open the bond. It’s me.”

Eilidh stared. “Quinton?” She stepped closer, glancing around to make sure the witnessing priests were too far to hear. Fearful she would find it to be a lie when she opened the bond, she did it anyway. As soon as she did, she felt Munro’s presence right in front of her, ringing with amusement. “Griogair agreed to this?” she asked, stunned.

“It was his idea. His gift to you.”

“The ceremony…”

“That was him,” Munro said. “He explained that an illusion would have disguised my appearance, but not fooled the laws of magic. I’m not sure what that means, but he said you would understand.”

Eilidh nodded. “The mating rite is a magical ceremony, not just a formality or for appearances. Illusion can deceive the mind of human and fae but not the Source. For our union to be legitimate, it had to be Griogair saying the words with his own lips.”

“But this part, Griogair said, was more tradition than law, and he wouldn’t force you.” Munro lowered his head. “Not after everything you’ve done and been through. I have to say, it was decent of him.”

“When did you switch?”

“Oron cast the illusion in the tent. He took both me and Griogair aside, much to the consternation of those attendant guys. A little confusion, a little illusion, and we exchanged faces. Unfortunately for him, he gets to spend the evening with Oron. They can’t go too far away or the illusions drop,” Munro explained. “Oron is the only one who knows, but Griogair trusts him to keep our secret. So do I.”

Eilidh nodded and smiled, wrapping her arms around Munro’s neck. When he leaned forward and kissed her, she melted into his arms, only two thin layers of sheer material separating them. “It is peculiar, hearing your voice from his mouth, seeing you in his body.”

“Yeah, it feels strange. I can’t even bring myself to look down.”

Eilidh laughed. “Will you think me unfaithful if I do?”

With a tender stroke of her cheek, Munro said, “I wouldn’t have thought that even if this really was Griogair standing here. Your body is yours. I have your heart, and I remember the sacred words you said to me. I would never think you unfaithful.” He paused and peered into the forest. “Are they really going to watch?” he asked.

With a mischievous grin Eilidh replied, “Only the first time. After that they leave us until daybreak.”

Munro reached down and swept her into his arms, laying her gently on the bed. “Griogair warned me I’d better live up to his reputation. I think we can give them something to talk about.”

Eilidh let her worries float away as she and Munro had one night of happiness. They didn’t think about the conflicts, the burdens, the sacrifices to come, or the difficult road ahead. Despite her coronation and the magnificent ceremony where she took Prince Griogair as her mate, her people were divided, with a young queen who didn’t yet know how to rule. The Halls of Mist would never be the same, now that Caledonia had an azuri queen.

More by India Drummond

Unjustly sentenced to death, Eilidh ran—away from faerie lands, to the streets of Perth, Scotland. Just as she has grown accustomed to exile, local police discover a mutilated body outside the abandoned church where she lives. Recognising the murder as the work of one of her own kind, Eilidh must choose: flee, or learn to tap into the forbidden magic that cost her everything.

Read the first chapter at http://www.indiadrummond.com

A faerie prince disappears in the borderlands, and his father enlists the help of outcast Eilidh and her bonded druid, Quinton Munro. Tantalised with hints of a lost and ancient magic, they learn that time is working against them every step of the way. Is the prince’s disappearance related to the vanishing of an entire Scottish village?

Faced with deception, assassination attempts, and a mad queen who would sacrifice her own child to keep a dreaded secret, Eilidh struggles with an impossible situation. Her people demand she commit treason and betray the man she loves. Will she do what duty requires, or throw away the chance to reunite the kingdom in exchange for the life she hadn’t dared hope for?