Night's Templar: A Vampire Queen Novel (Vampire Queen Series Book 13) (31 page)

“I am not a maid who needs reassurances for why you sought my company, my lord,” Uthe said. But, not wanting to commit the same casual cruelty he’d made earlier, he added, “I am glad I was able to bring you ease. Where is this portal?”

Keldwyn rose and stepped closer. He slid a hand over Uthe’s back, a gesture of casual affection. “This way,” he said.

He followed the Fae deeper into the woods. It was thick and tangled, wholly natural forest. Keldwyn found subtle trails through the undergrowth. At length, they were in a small clearing where a line of sapling trees followed a narrow strip of wet marsh. Uthe saw the clearing was a near perfect circle, and a ring of stones was arranged around it. Since some were half buried or set at angles, it looked random unless one examined them more closely.

“This portal hasn’t been used in some time, but it is close enough to the other it should work, especially with the presence of Rhoswen’s amulet. Pull it out now, my lord.”

When Uthe flipped open the pouch and complied, Keldwyn extended his hand. “Clasp my wrist and do not let go until I say. It will be disorienting but not painful.” He paused. “Have you been back since the Battle of Hattin?”

“Just the once when Shahnaz wanted Reghan to show me a glimpse of the Shattered World, but that isn’t very clear in my head. The first time was equally as brief. I vaguely remember the tower, some of the grounds around it.”

“Then it will be my pleasure to give you a better tour of my home this time.”

Uthe had seen the Fae move through the portal at the Savannah estate. Without a Fae guide, crossing the barrier yielded nothing but walking a few steps across the ground, but Uthe was certain that would not be the outcome today. Keldwyn pointed to Uthe’s dagger, scabbarded on his belt. “In the Fae world, you won’t need to draw on the dagger’s power. The sunlight there does not burn a vampire’s skin. The transition between worlds will be somewhat draining, though. You’ll require nourishment fairly soon after crossing the portal. I’ve arranged a safe human source for your feeding.”

That was a surprising revelation, and came with a stab of disappointment, since Keldwyn wouldn’t be that source. Uthe refused to let himself resent that the Fae could fuck him senseless but reject the intimacy of feeding. Few vampire lovers fed off one another after all, though their reasons were political, rather than distaste.

“Shed the boots,” Keldwyn directed. “Just drape them over your shoulders and they will go through, but the passage for a vampire is less jarring if your feet are in contact with the earth and water.”

Uthe complied. At Keldwyn’s gesture, he stepped into the wetter area of the marsh, taking a breath at the cold. Since only sparse sunlight filtered through during the daylight hours, once darkness fell, whatever heat was caught there dissipated quickly. Keldwyn gazed down at his curling toes. “You have exceptionally wide feet, my lord. Unexpected. You could use those as shovels.”

“The sergeants used to threaten young Crusaders with them. ‘If you don’t listen, Brother Uthe will put his giant foot up your arse.’”

He’d not recalled that in some time. He could hear Manfred threatening it in his provincial French, amusement and true patience with those new soldiers hidden under the sarcasm. So many of them had known so little when they came to the Holy Lands.

“Sounds like a good threat.” Keldwyn passed his hand before him, a smooth parting motion, as if he were lifting a curtain. Everything stilled. The bird song, the fluttering needles on the pines and leaves on the maples, the energy of the earth itself. Uthe realized he couldn’t move. The water surrounding his feet and ankles seemed infused with more life, tingling and vibrant against his skin. The silence penetrated his mind and sank deep, a welcoming feel, not alarming. His eyelids were heavy as anvils. They fell shut, and then Keldwyn touched his arm. “We’re here, my lord.”

Uthe opened his eyes, his body relaxing into movement again. He was still standing in water, but it was no longer the marsh. The wide, free flowing stream meandered down a hill, turning toward the left to make a crescent, a natural bracket for a wide meadow and a stand of trees behind it. The forest climbed toward a castle that rose high above the tree tops, the earth-colored stone like the rocky slopes of a mountain.

The trees close to the meadow were laden with purple and pink blooms that glowed with a silver luminosity. Those same three colors floated through the air as motes, tiny specks like snowflakes. Others had more substance and more specific trajectories, which suggested the larger ones were insects or other beings adapting their appearance to the trees for camouflage. The meadow grass was the color of pale gold straw, tipped with fronds as delicate as swan feathers.

As remarkable a sight as all that was, when Uthe’s attention slid back down toward the stream, he found something even more arresting on the bank a few hundred feet below them.

A female fairy and a snow white horse stood together there. The horse’s golden tail was braided with the purple, pink and silver flowers. The colors were on the white flanks, small handprints, like a child had decorated the horse with ink made from the flowers’ essence. The female Fae had long brown hair, caught in intricate coils and threaded with more of the flowers, the remaining fall of hair tumbling down her back between her wings, a green and gold color. She leaned against the horse’s side, her shoulder pressed into the creature’s shoulder.

In the water, another girl played. This one didn’t have wings or pointed ears, but Uthe knew from Keldwyn that there were a remarkable number of Fae races, whose features and forms were similar to the diversity of the animal world he knew. A birdlike creature was flitting around her, dipping down to use its barbed tail and leathery wings to splash the girl as she retaliated, laughing. The bird made a piercing cry. As it twisted in the air and spouted a short gust of flame, Uthe realized it was a small dragon, with amber-colored scales and a tail whose tip was shaped like a pointed axe blade.

It was not the only wrong assumption he’d made. As the horse lifted her head from the water, a spiral golden horn on her forehead caught the sunlight. The unicorn’s delicate nostrils flared and she snorted, drawing the Fae girl’s attention to their arrival. Her eyes were large for her petite features, outlined by dark, thick lashes. She spoke to the girl playing in the water, then turned and moved toward them, so swiftly her wings lifted her off the ground, her bare feet teased by the tips of the meadow grass.

“Can you use your wings to fly like that?” Uthe asked Keldwyn, curious.

“Mine are more ornamental, though they can give me a lift advantage during fights. But like a cape, they can get in the way. Such as when my opponent tries to grab onto one.” Kel tossed him a significant look, reminding Uthe of their fight on their stairs in Savannah.

“If I remember, you used that hold to electrocute me.”

Keldwyn hmphed, but they left off the conversation as the fairy descended within a few feet of them, her soft smile dazzling. Her eyes were grey-green like smooth tree bark, her skin smooth as glass and the dusky color of the Oriental beauties Uthe had seen in his travels.

Her slender body and limbs reminded Uthe of a willow tree. The vivid green and gold of her wings were layered like its leaves. She wore an earth-colored pendant around her neck, framed by the neckline of a gossamer green tunic that clung to her supple body and separated into more layered leaf shapes around her slim thighs. Though her ears were pointed like Keldwyn’s, they were longer and angled to mold close to the sides of her head.

While her expression indicated warm welcome, she said nothing right away, looking between Keldwyn and Uthe expectantly.

“This is Catriona,” Keldwyn said. “She is a dryad. Catriona, this is Lord Uthe.”

A dryad. That explained the impression of a tree. Uthe extended a hand. When she placed hers in it, curious, he bent over it courteously. Nothing about this place suggested a contemporary handshake would make sense. “My lady, it is a pleasure.”

She surprised him by holding onto him as she turned to Kel. “How long can you spend with us today?” Her voice was breathy music like a gentle breeze, welcomed by the senses in whatever portion it was offered. Uthe realized she was older than she appeared. An immortal trait shared by vampire and Fae but, as Rhoswen had pointed out in her meeting with Uthe, it was the way one spoke, body language, or a certain look in the eyes that revealed maturity. While Uthe could not guess her actual age, she was an adult, though very young by Fae standards. Perhaps forty years.

“We can spend the afternoon,” Keldwyn told her. “What would you like to do?”

Her gaze swept the meadow, the unicorn and her young friend. The girl had come out of the stream and drawn closer, taking a seat on a stump. The dragon curled in her lap like a kitten, but he was so large he hid most of her, the long tail wrapped around her calf. The dragon blinked at Uthe with gold eyes.

“I think we should play here,” Catriona said. “You need to relax with your friend. I’ll braid your hair. You don’t usually leave it down like this when you travel. If you’re going to fight monsters, you’ll need it out of your way. It would be embarrassing to be dead because your long, flowing hair is in your eyes.”

The girl behind the dragon giggled. Keldwyn cast her a mock intimidating look and she tried to subside, ducking behind her scaled friend, but she was obviously already familiar with the Fae Lord and had no fear of him. “This is Della,” he told Uthe. “She is Catriona’s human friend.”

At Uthe’s surprised look, Keldwyn explained. “We have blocked human passage into our world for some time, but Queen Rhoswen has always shown limited tolerance for special human youngsters, particularly if they are respectful believers in the Fae world. She creates crossing points in their gardens and natural play spaces. Della is one such special child. Though quite impudent,” he added, raising his voice and tossing her that glare again. “I shall have to turn her into a bright blue frog to teach her manners.”

“Ribbit, ribbit!” Della responded, dislodging the dragon so she could hop across the ground like an amphibian. Though she was somewhat chubby, she moved with great energy.

Uthe’s brow creased. The same insight that told him Catriona was an adult told him that Della was less mature than her apparent age, around sixteen years old.

“She is what the humans would call slow, or mentally challenged,” Keldwyn said low, reading his face. “An underdeveloped mind. But here, she is at ease.”

“Will she not be missed?”

“She crosses over in her mother’s garden.” Catriona supplied that explanation. “She is out of view for less than a blink, even if she spends the whole day here. You are compassionate, my lord. It matches what Kel told me of you. Most of it.”

She sidled closer to Keldwyn, sliding her fingers through his loose hair and tangling there, giving the freed strands a significant look that he answered with a narrow-eyed warning. Her lips quivered against another smile, though this one she suppressed. Uthe sensed she’d once laughed more freely, but the joy was still there, just exercised more cautiously than before.

“What did Kel tell you of me?” Uthe wanted to know.

“After Lady Lyssa, he respects you more than any other vampire. Maybe a little bit more than Lady Lyssa some days, but I think that’s when he doesn’t agree with her on something.”

“What about the days he and I don’t agree?”

Her eyes danced. “He says vampires were a mistake by Creation and will shortly be ended by their own stupidity. He also calls you names.”

“Nothing I haven’t called you to your face, Lord Uthe,” Keldwyn said, unperturbed. “Stubborn ass. Brainless primordial ooze.”

“I’m so relieved it was nothing truly derogatory.”

“Maysie made some of her cakes for you.” Catriona changed the subject, turning back to Keldwyn. “She didn’t lace any with love potions. I checked. I’ll get them and some mead and we’ll have a picnic.” She gave Uthe another studied look. “You are very handsome, in a different way from most vampires,” she decided. “More lines on your face, but they make sense. I understand better now why he likes you.”

As Catriona ran off hand-in-hand with Della, the unicorn and dragon in pursuit, Uthe was bemused by the declaration. Up until now, his understanding of Kel’s regard for him had been clouded by the motives of their respective worlds. Catriona had no reason to tell him anything but the truth, did she?

Keldwyn didn’t look discomfited by her revelation, which was even more unsettling. “Love potions?” Uthe questioned. Keldwyn winced.

“Maysie is quite lush and lovely, and as sturdy, stubborn and loyal as a brick wall. She has not taken the hint in several decades, sure that I will eventually tire of my travels and want to settle down in her cottage with her. When Catriona was much younger, she lost her mother and her father abandoned her. Maysie would care for her when I had to be away. She seems to have no sense of the difference in our classes, or why that should matter.”

“I expect you haven’t been sufficiently cruel enough to make that clear. Or maybe she does know it and thinks you could be happy with a simpler life. It is usually true, but not always possible.”

Keldwyn made a noncommittal noise. Wandering into the shade of the purple and pink trees, he dropped down onto the grass, leaning back on his elbows and stretching out his legs. His natural sensuality couldn’t help but draw Uthe’s close attention, unless he wanted to stab out his eyes to deprive himself of the pleasure. Keldwyn tipped his head up to look at him, his dark hair falling back and coiling on the grass. His lips curved.

“Come closer, vampire. I’m not the one who bites.”

He could argue that point, but Uthe found no reason to resist sitting on the grass next to him. Keldwyn turned on his hip, his hand lying loosely along it.

“Is a simpler life what you discovered when you served with the Templars?”

“Yes. And no. I didn’t come from excessive wealth, but there was no simplicity to the life I lived before I joined the Order. A very structured, predictable life proved…a way to peace. Later on, when they developed the Rule, with all its tenets for eating, sleeping, living, it almost eliminated the need for independent thought outside of battle. For a short time at least, that was easier. I embraced that.”