Still Not Dead Enough , Book 2 of The Dead Among Us (26 page)

Paul said, “That, it is.”

“You did well with Her Majesty,” Cadilus assured him.

“The Old Wizard coached me well.”

Cadilus shrugged, “Perhaps in the etiquette of the Court. But it was clear to all the words were your own.”

In the distance Magreth chatted amiably with Colleen. “Her presence is more overpowering than the Court.”

“She is the Court, Young Mage. Never forget that.”

Cadilus introduced him to a number of Sidhe, too many names and faces to remember. Paul remained cautious, ever alert should he sense the draw of power.

“Here’s someone I know you’ll want to meet,” Cadilus said as a young goddess approached them. She appeared to be in her early twenties, and while Sidhe appearance was almost a veil they wore like a cloak, the appearance they chose became their reality. This young lady put some of the incredible creatures he’d already met to shame. Cadilus bent at the waist and kissed her hand, saying, “Your Highness.”

He turned to Paul. “May I introduce the Princess of Summer, Her Royal Highness Nae’eth?”

Nae’eth held out her hand and said, “And you are?”

An old trick, that. If Paul fell into the trap, he would say,
I’m Paul Conklin, Your Highness
. But in doing so he would give up his name, and give her power over him. He bent at the waist, and as he took her hand in his, an electric thrill passed through him, though he was confident he managed to hide any reaction on his part. He kissed her hand as he’d practiced with Colleen and said, “Merely a humble apprentice mage, Your Highness.”

Cadilus grinned. Nae’eth nodded approvingly. “Very good, Mr. Conklin,” she said, and Paul realized it had been a little test, the first of many, he was certain. Or perhaps, only the first of which he was aware.

“I’m told you are new to your power,” she said.

“Yes, my abilities only manifested recently.” She was one of those beauties with a long neck, and she’d chosen a gown cut almost to her navel. The material was also slightly translucent, allowing him to see the silhouette of her areola. He imagined gently licking her nipples.
Wow
, he thought,
this is going to be a tough night.

She smiled at him as if she knew his thoughts, and he felt a stirring in his crotch. She frowned. “You seem disturbed, Mr. Conklin. Are you ill?”

He reached deep inside to find some meaningless banter. “No, Your Highness. Not ill in the least, merely a bit overwhelmed by the beauty of the Summer Court.”

She smiled, the tip of her tongue tracing a line across her lips. Paul thought of her tracing that tongue on his lips, on his neck, down his chest. “You do seem a bit preoccupied, Mr. Conklin.”

He couldn’t understand why he’d begun reenacting his emergence into puberty, a time when, like many young boy’s, he’d been obsessed with getting laid, and in fact, at that moment he imagined getting laid by the goddess in front of him. He pulled himself together, managed to keep his face neutral. “I do have a number of things on my mind.”

“I’m sure you do,” she said, the corners of her mouth rising in a knowing smile. She reached up, touched his cheek lightly, and again that electric thrill shot through him, shot through his body and finished in his crotch. He was glad of the wizard’s robes he wore, for without them he was certain he wouldn’t have been able to hide the erection. The temptation to reach out and take her in his arms overwhelmed him, to kiss her lips, kiss her nipples, run his tongue over her entire body.

Beguilement!
She’s beguiling me
, he realized, as he fantasized about pulling her to the floor and making love to her right there in front of everyone. Somehow he managed to assume a look of boredom and said, “This is all quite new to me.”

Her fingers slid down his cheek to his neck, traced a line along the collar of his shirt. The fantasy became one of him pressing her against the wall and fucking her right there standing up. Barely able to control himself, he managed to smile knowingly, trying to tell her with a look he knew what she was doing.
Bring on your best, honey,
he wanted to say, though if she kept it up much longer he’d probably try to jump her bones right then and there.

Her hand left his cheek, the beguilement snapped off like a light. She laughed quietly, and he realized that the buzz of a hundred conversations had gone silent, with almost everyone looking their way.

Another test
, he realized, thinking,
This is one hell of a pass-fail exam.

~~~

As Katherine and Ag strolled through the incredible Court gardens, a tall Seelie warrior approached them. She had never met him, but a Seelie here in the Unseelie Court must be non-other than the Summer Knight. He bent the knee before Ag. “Your Majesty, I have news of the Old Wizard.”

Ag turned to Katherine. “Leave us, my child,”

She hesitated, fearing the consequences of even that, but also desperate to hear any news of her father. “Please, Your Majesty,” she said, kneeling, kissing his hand. “If it’s news of my father—she almost said, but didn’t,
and Paul
—may I hear it? Please.”

Ag smiled, though not a pleasant smile. “How can I refuse such a heartfelt request?” He turned to the knight. “Speak.”

From one knee the knight looked up to the king. “The Old Wizard, with his
weapon
, the Lady Armaugh, two of the little people, and the young mage, has been received by Magreth. They are apparently traveling under the full protection and courtesy of the Seelie Court.”

“Magreth is worried,” Ag said happily.

Katherine held her breath, hoping if she didn’t draw attention to herself, Ag would forget her, allow her to continue listening. But he looked down at her. “Now, truly, leave us.”

She dare not resist a second time. She stood, curtsied, turned and walked carefully away, trying to slow her pace in the hope of hearing any last words between Ag and the knight. But Ag was smarter than that, waited until she was well out of earshot.

~~~

“Do you have more?” Ag asked.

Anogh rose. “The young mage has apparently acquitted himself most impressively, Your Majesty.”

“Really. In what way?”

“He speaks well, Your Majesty, doesn’t gawk like a peasant his first time at Court. He’s been tested a couple of times, has so far been able to resist beguilement by some of the most beautiful and powerful courtiers there.”

“Interesting!” Ag turned his back on Anogh. “That may mean he is too strong for us to bind him.”

“But we have the young woman, Your Majesty, and there is no doubt of their attraction for one another.”

“There is that,” Ag said. “Might the Summer Court ally with him and the Old Wizard?”

“That is my fear, Your Majesty. It is rumored his powers expand daily.”

Ag turned back to him. “I think it time we play a more active role in the young mage’s education. He is in Faerie now, where we are strongest. Send Simuth to me. It is time the young mage were bound to me, or dead.”

Chapter 20: Always a Target

Their presentation at Court, the reception that followed, and the banquet that followed that, took up the entire evening. At least there had been no more tests, or none Paul had been aware of. It was late when they showed Paul to the small suite of rooms where he’d be lodged.

He pulled off the wizard’s robe, tossed it on the bed, pulled off his jacket and tie, tossed them on the robe. He was bone tired, hoping for a good night’s sleep, but he feared the tension that ran through every muscle would prevent that. A knock on the door interrupted his preparations.

When he opened the door a young Sidhe woman greeted him. Clearly a servant, she held a large bundle in her arms, curtsied and said, “High Chancellor Cadilus sends his compliments, Lord Mage. He thought you might wish more appropriate attire for tomorrow.”

Even their servants were gorgeous. “Come in,” Paul said, opening the door wider.

As she walked past him he remained alert for any signs of beguilement. She placed the bundle on the bed, unwrapped it, held up one of those nineteenth century waistcoat outfits he’d seen on all the Sidhe males. She hung it in the wardrobe, turned to him and handed him a small box that fit easily in the palm of his hand. “What’s this?” he asked, opening it.

In it rested a small vial of some sort of emerald fluid. “It’s a sleeping draught the High Chancellor prepared for you. It’s an herbal concoction, not spell based, and it will help you sleep deeply through the night, and awake refreshed in the morning. He felt the pressures of the evening might weigh on you tonight.”

Cadilus was right. “Please give the High Chancellor my thanks. When should I take it?”

“Take it now,” she said. “It will take some minutes to have an effect.”

Paul lifted the vial to his lips and poured it down his throat. It tasted of flowers and honey and a garden in full bloom on a bright sunny day. “How long will it take?”

She smiled provocatively and stepped close to him. “You should begin feeling it almost immediately.”

He looked at her, thinking her words contradicted what she’d said a moment ago. She stood only inches away from him, the most desirable thing he could imagine, her entire posture an enticement to pleasure. She tilted her head up and smiled warmly at him, an obvious invitation. He sensed none of the confused thinking of beguilement, so he kissed her. She responded warmly, took his hand and pressed it against her breast.

Her dress slid off her shoulders with little effort. Naked from the waist up he pressed her against the wall, even though a faint voice inside him whispered that something was wrong. She lifted her skirts, put his hand between her legs. She was ready for him, beyond doubt.

He tried again, sensed no beguilement, but there was power in his gut, foreign power not his own. As she groped at his pants he realized it was a spell. No herbs to make him sleep, but a spell to drive him mad with desire and lust, pure and simple.

He had her pressed against the wall near the door to his suite, licking her breasts, nibbling on her nipples. But as she gripped his erection and tried to guide it into her, he pulled his own power, put everything he had into fighting the spell, opened the door without warning and shoved her out into the hall. He had only a moment to see the surprise on her face as he slammed the door.

He turned and staggered back to the bed, going mad with desire, passion and lust. The spell pushed at him, demanded some sort of release, tempted him to open the door and let her back in so they could finish what they’d started. But it was a test, and if he succumbed to that temptation he’d fail. To break the spell he needed a counter spell far beyond his own abilities. Or he could blunt it by completely immersing himself in saltwater. He always carried a small amount of salt, but he only had a handful with him at the moment, so he’d have to make do.

He poured a glass of water, added some salt to it, stirred it, swallowed one mouthful. He’d swallowed the spell-laced potion, so it wouldn’t hurt to let a mouthful of saltwater join it in his gut. Then he stripped naked, retrieved a linen washcloth from the bathroom and tore off a small square about twelve inches on a side. He dipped the linen square into the remaining saltwater, wrung it out carefully over the glass, making certain all the drops of saltwater he squeezed out of it returned to the glass. Then he used the damp silk square to rub himself down, taking care to cover every inch of his skin. He repeated the process of wetting the linen scrap in the saltwater and rubbing himself down, managed to repeat it three times before the glass was empty. After that he continued the rubdown with the damp linen square until it finally dried. And by that time, though he sensed a slight residual remaining, he’d broken the power of the spell, at least enough so he could resist the temptation to open the door and bring her back.

“Shit. Shit. Shit,” he swore. “This is fucking impossible.”

~~~

“Here, Young Mage.”

The incredible creature standing in front of Paul held out her hand, palm down with something gripped in her fist. He extended his hand suspiciously, palm up beneath hers. She opened her fingers and a small object dropped into his hand. It appeared to be a little circle of braided hair, with the fine, silky consistency of Sidhe hair, the color of the young woman’s hair.

“It’s just a small charm,” she said in a voice husky with promise and desire. “When you’re free, without other obligations, activate it by breathing a small hint of power into it. It will guide you to my chambers.” She touched his cheek. “I’ll be waiting for you, ready for you.”

She turned and walked away.

“No one would begrudge you a roll in the sheets with that one, kid.”

He turned to face McGowan, found Colleen standing beside the old man. Like Paul, McGowan now wore one of those nineteenth century waistcoat outfits with an uncomfortably high collar.

“It’s another test, isn’t it?”

Both Colleen and McGowan shook their heads. McGowan said, “Since she didn’t beguile you, it was an offer freely given, and one you are free to accept. You pretty much passed that test when they threw Nae’eth at you. And Nae’eth threw everything she had at you by touching you. Resisting that impressed everyone.”

“But they tried again last night,” Paul said. “Some gorgeous creature brought this outfit to my room.” He told them about the spell, though he didn’t go into detail on what happened when he fell for it.

“Different kind of test,” McGowan said. “A spell, as opposed to their natural ability to beguile. The spell was a test of your power, and your ability to resist that of others. Completely different from beguilement.”

Paul shook his head. “This ain’t easy stuff, old man”

McGowan nodded with an admiring twinkle in his eyes toward the retreating figure of the Sidhe woman. “Then take her up on her offer.”

Paul sighed. “No. I’ll pass.”

Colleen looked at him knowingly. “I think his heart is elsewhere, old man.”

“Not still Suzanna,” McGowan said. “You’ve got to put her behind you, Paul. She’s long gone.”

“No, old man,” Colleen said. She reached out, put a finger beneath Paul’s chin and looked into his eyes. “I think our Paul, here, is smitten anew.”

McGowan slapped Paul on the shoulder. “You got a new girl, eh? That’s great, Paul. Who is she? You have to introduce me sometime.”

McGowan looked past Paul. “Ah! There’s Cadilus. I need a word with him.” McGowan marched purposefully away.

Colleen smiled at Paul. “For such a wise, old man, he can be such an idiot.”

~~~

“Lord Mage,” the young servant said, curtsying elegantly. As she stood she held forth a small, silver dish upon which a folded piece of paper rested. “Lady Armaugh asked me to deliver this.” There was no beguilement about the young woman, no spells.

Paul opened the note and read it:
Paul. I have something I wish you to see that I think you’ll find most interesting. This young lady will guide you to me.
It was signed,
Colleen
.

Paul asked the young woman, “The note says you can lead me to Lady Armaugh?”

“Of course, my lord,” she said smiling. “Those were her very instructions.”