The Iron Locket (The Risen King) (20 page)

Zela's lips pursed. She looked unconvinced, but nodded nonetheless. "Very well. I will go with you. We will bring Percival as well."

A knowing smile flitted across Arthur's face.

"Oh, be quiet." Pink crept quickly up Zela's cheeks as she turned from Arthur, but Aiofe saw the girlish grin on her face.

Arthur leaned over, his lips brushing Aiofe's ear. "Zela and Percival are courting."

The faery spun around and propped her hands on her hips. "We are not! We're just..."

Arthur raised an eyebrow, waiting for a response. "Forget it," Zela said again. "Come on, time to go." She stomped across the courtyard, outpacing them by a lot in her irritation.

"Percival seems very shy. I would not have pictured him with a faery, especially not a princess."

"Yes, he is very young. I find it amazing that he has wooed such a virile woman, to be quite honest. He was always such a clod pole around the ladies. Strange times are these."

Aiofe gave him a crooked smile. "Yes, strange times indeed."

Back inside, Zela led them into another room that was filled by a large, round table. Aiofe's jaw fell open. "Wow," was all she could manage to say.

As she and Arthur took a seat, Percival entered, followed by Kay, Lancelot, and the rest of the knights, most of whom she had not met. Once they were all seated, Arthur explained the situation.

"We have confirmation that Leanansidhe is indeed creating abominations in her castle. We have orders to strike and destroy it immediately. But before we do, I must return Aiofe to her home and see that her grandparents are safe. Zela and Percival will accompany us, but I wish to leave one of my trusted knights to ensure their protection."

"I will do it." Lancelot spoke up without hesitation, dire sincerity on his face.

Arthur shook his head. "No, you are one of my best warriors. I need you to lead the assault. Kay." As Arthur turned to his foster brother, Aiofe saw Kay stiffen, his face puckering in irritation. "I trust you to take care of Aiofe and protect her with your life. Will you do that? As my brother and friend?"

Kay sighed, clearly unhappy about the decision. "As always, your word is my command, sire." He rolled his eyes, his voice bleeding with mockery, but underneath it all, Aiofe heard the loyalty. She could trust him, or so she hoped.

Arthur nodded, ignoring the sarcasm. "Thank you. We will leave shortly. The rest of you need to prepare. As soon as I return, we will gather the armies and make our final plans."

The knights all rose, most of them leaving to sharpen their swords and hone their battle skills. Lancelot approached Aiofe and Arthur as they stood in a corner talking to Zela and Percival.

"Are you sure he is the best choice to protect your woman, Arthur?"

Aiofe bristled at being called anyone's woman and her mouth shot open. A hand on her elbow stilled the vicious comment on her tongue. She followed the delicate fingers up a tan arm until she met Zela's eyes. The faery shook her head slightly and mouthed the word "No". Aiofe narrowed her eyes and pulled her arm away, but snapped her mouth shut.

"Yes," Arthur was saying. "I am sure. He is my foster brother. We grew up together and he has been there for me in every need. He will protect her. I have no doubt."

Lancelot lowered his head toward Arthur. "My lord, do you still not trust me?" His voice was laced with a pain that had never quite healed.

The king raised his hands, placing them on the knight's shoulders. "Lancelot, my friend and most loyal knight, I trust you completely. I have let go of the past. It is time you do the same. As I said before, you are my best warrior. I need you to help me lead the armies against Leanansidhe. This is going to be the toughest battle we were ever in. She will defend that castle with everything she has and I need my best beside me."

"And what am I, then? The worst?" Kay was leaning against the wall a few feet away, his arms crossed.

Arthur sighed. "No, but almost." He took Aiofe's hand and pulled her along. "Come, we need to get ready."

Aiofe followed him out and up the stairs to the bedroom they had shared. On a couch underneath one window were her clothes, washed and folded. On the table lay her bow and quiver. Her backpack was slung across a chair. As Arthur slipped on a leather chest piece and strapped his sword around his waist, she similarly armed herself, making sure her bow was still fit for use and tucking her knife into her belt.

"All set," she said as she stuffed her clothes into her pack.

He took her hand once more and led her down the stairs. Zela, Percival, and Kay were waiting for them out in the courtyard. With some help, Aiofe mounted Arthur's steed and he slid into place behind her. She leaned back, feeling his strong muscles against her, and closed her eyes. Their bodies moved together in perfect rhythm, completely unlike her earlier experience on a horse. One of Arthur's hands slipped around her waist and she tangled her fingers in his as they disappeared into the path that Zela had opened.

*~*~*

TWENTY-THREE

*~*~*

Aloysius Callaghan felt like he had been tied to two rampaging bulls and dragged through the streets of Pampalona. Every muscle in his old, tired body ached and walking up the back steps to his house took every ounce of energy he had left. He dropped the pack he carried on the porch and reached for the doorknob with an arm so sore it barely had any strength left. The door flew open as his fingers brushed the knob and he stumbled backward, nearly tripping over his own feet.

"Did you find her?" Maureen stood in the door, wringing a dry dish towel in her wrinkled hands. Her face was puffy and red and dirty streaks stained her cheeks. Her eyes beseeched him, pleading for an answer he could not give.

"No, love, not yet." The words drained what little restraint Alo had and he sank down onto the bench in the mud room, his head sinking to his chest. His eyes stung and he closed them to ward off the tears. He had to be strong for his wife, he couldn't fail her, not this time. She had suffered so greatly when Caena died. He couldn't bear that again. Raising his head, he forced a weak smile to his face. "We'll find her, Mo. I promise. I promise."

Three days had passed since Aiofe had disappeared in the woods while hunting the sprite. After seeing to David's injuries and sending him to the hospital, they tracked her into some briars, but then the trail simply evaporated. She had never come out. Hunters were called in from all over the area, but no one had had any luck. A knot of fear sat deep in his stomach, but he refused to acknowledge it. He would not lose his only grandchild. He would find her and bring her home, even if it was the last thing he did.

Maureen's small hands were gripping his arm. "Have you heard anything from Titania yet?"

Alo shook his head as the knot raced around inside him. "No. All of the hunters are saying the same thing. All the doors have been closed. No one can get through from this side, so we can't contact her."

"Would she..." Maureen trailed off with a fierce shake of her head. "No, she would not," she said, answering her own question. She had been one of Titania's favorites, so she knew the queen as well as anyone alive. "Titania is not responsible for this."

Alo slipped his arm around Maureen and pulled her close to him, drawing strength from her. "No, she isn't. Aiofe is headstrong and was dead set on finding that sprite. I think she just stumbled through a door."

He didn't mention what usually happened to hunters who stumbled through doors. Only about a quarter of them returned in one piece, and barely more than a third returned at all. Maureen whimpered, her shoulders shaking gently against him. He stroked her hair and kissed her head softly. "We'll find her," he whispered once more, though his hope was quickly fading.

*~*~*

"Give me that." Leanansidhe snatched the glowing device that the ugly creature in front of her was fumbling with and placed it on the ground at her feet. She shoved the gnarled beast out of the way, knocking him over into a heap, and straightened up.

"Eiliaorthaman," she whispered, the word rolling off her tongue like a hot stone. It plummeted to the ground, smashing into the object below with a violent impact. A blinding explosion ripped out from the device and she stumbled back a step, shielding her eyes with her hand. When the spots cleared from her vision, she looked up, a smile growing across her face.

Before her the landscape had changed. Where once stood a wall, now were trees stretching out as far as the eye could see. She had created a door between Faery and the human world. It was illegal to do so, but what did she care about legality? The queens could do nothing to her. She was above them, and soon she would own them.

She stepped toward the door, kicking the writhing beast beside her. "Get up," she growled. Turning partially, she raised her hand and snapped. "Come," she commanded. A dozen more of the creatures hopped up from the ground and scampered after her, grunting their pig-like grunts.

After walking for fifteen minutes, Leanansidhe stopped and looked around. She knew this part of the woods well, though she had not been there in over two human decades. She shuddered and her nose curled involuntarily at the thought. "Humans," she muttered, spitting the word from her mouth. She turned sharply and stomped through the trees, swatting at branches that got in her way with such force they snapped in half.

In short time, she came to a clearing. Standing next to a tall pine, she looked upon a quaint two-story cabin sitting in the middle of a wide lawn. The last time she had been there was to watch the funeral of a descendant of The First, a fine moment indeed. With a wicked smile, she stepped from the cover of the woods and strode across the lawn, her creatures following behind her.

*~*~*

Maureen was quiet as she prepared a light dinner of cold sandwiches, but Aloysius didn't mind. He was lost in his own thoughts. Namely, how to get into Faery to find his granddaughter. He kept playing that day over and over again in his head. If only they hadn't given her the locket, he thought. But no, he countered, the locket may be her only chance of survival, the only way to prove who she is, and it would offer her a bit of protection from any faeries she came across. He was so lost in his own thoughts that it took him awhile to notice that Maureen was standing absolutely still, a butter knife in one hand and an open jar of mayonnaise in the other. She was barely even breathing.

He stood up and walked across the kitchen, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Mo? What is it?"

With a shaky hand, she pointed out the kitchen window with the knife. He followed her gaze and his heart dropped. A tall, dark-haired woman was striding across their lawn toward the house. She wore black pants and a tight black shirt. He knew without a doubt that she was a faery, not because of her clothes or the way she looked, but because of the hideous creatures that trailed along behind her. They were short and squat, their limbs riddled with warts and pock marks. Their gray skin was as thick as a rhinoceros’s hide. He had encountered one before. It wasn't a pretty fight. They were fairly stupid creatures, but they had the strength of a body builder and it was nearly impossible to pierce their skin without the right blade.

"Mo," he said, sliding his hand up to her arm. "Go into the garage and grab my witch's blade, please."

She didn't move.

"Mo." He shook her, breaking her out of her trance.

Her entire body shivered as she looked at him. Her eyes were huge. He had never seen her so terrified. "Leanansidhe," she whispered before she darted out of the kitchen.

The word chilled him to the bone. As he looked out the window once more, his heart sank into his toes. The woman was advancing across the lawn at a quick pace, her long legs moving easily in the high-heeled boots she wore. The creatures with her skittered like crabs on all fours, struggling to keep up.

She raised her eyes as she neared the house, meeting his stare dead on. The wicked grin that pulled at the corners of her mouth told him that she had plans for him, and he wasn't going to enjoy them one bit. He backed up a step, unable to break eye contact with her. His heart pounded in his chest and he felt more winded than he had upon entering the house.

"Alo."

The gentle voice set him free from the spell and he spun around, stumbling to the other side of the kitchen to his wife. When he looked back, all he could see was the top of the intruder's head. He breathed a sigh of temporary relief.

Maureen had her hands full. In one hand, she held his witch's blade: a short sword about fourteen inches long and an inch wide. It was so sharp it could filet a spiral notebook and leave the edges of the paper looking like they were meant to be looseleaf. She held it out to him and he took it, strapping its sheath around his waist.

In her other hand, Mo carried her favorite weapon, a simple long bow. It was similar to the one she had given Aiofe on her thirteenth birthday, but longer and thinner. There were no carvings or markings of any kind on the bone-white wood, but it was the deadliest weapon she could have chosen. Over her back was slung a quiver of arrows, all made from the same wood with silver feathers attached. They were faery-made weapons, given to her during a particularly dangerous hunt in which Titania was personally involved. The wood was from a rare and protected species of tree only found in the south of Faery near Titania's castle. Since Caena's death, the weapon had remained locked away in an enchanted cabinet in the garage, immune to even the most prying of eyes.