Wondrous Strange (20 page)

“H
erne!” Sonny shouted above the din. “Where is she?”

All around him the Tavern was in shambles, shards of crystal and bits of broken tables littering the marble floors. Pockets of furious fighting between Lost Fae and Mabh’s minions carried on with unabated ferocity. Blood pooled on the tiles, red and pale pinkish liquids mingling with green and yellow splatters.

Sonny reached the side of the embattled Hunter, who swung a huge ax in great space-clearing arcs. “Where is Kelley?” he asked again.

“We lost her in the fight!” Herne raised his voice so that Sonny could hear him. “She ran. Back into the park.” He brought the ax down in a chopping blow that cleaved the head of something lumpy and angrylooking in two. “Go! Find her before Mabh does. Or worse.”

Sonny spun around and raced back out into the courtyard. All of the other Janus had been too occupied with the rampaging king statue to accompany him, except Maddox. Meeting up with him—and Lucky, for the kelpie, it seemed, would not let Sonny too far out of his sight—in the yard, Sonny burst out of the Tavern doors, his companions close behind. In the deserted parking lot, they paused just long enough for Sonny to orient his senses on Kelley’s unique flame.

“That way,” Sonny said, as soon as he could see her in his mind. The fuse on his Firecracker was sparking wildly now, and it would have been impossible for him to miss her.

Sonny turned to run south down the path leading from the parking lot, but before he and Maddox had taken a dozen long strides, an oak tree in front of them suddenly blew apart.

Sonny threw an arm over his face and tackled Maddox out of the way as thousands of needle-sharp splinters peppered them. The air rippled, and an overwhelming scent of decay washed over them. Lucky’s eyes rolled white in his head and his nostrils flared.

A small army of stunted, troll-like fae circled the two Janus and the kelpie, slavering and swinging axes and pikes. Redcaps—named for their gruesome habit of soaking their
long caps in the blood of those they’d slain.

“And you thought the piskies were a bitch,” Maddox grunted, sinking into a defensive crouch beside Sonny. A redcap lunged, and Maddox lashed out in a judo kick, almost snapping the head off the creature. The spear it carried flew from its suddenly limp hands, and Maddox snatched it out of the air. Beside him, Sonny drew his bundle of oak, ash, and thorn and whispered his incantation, transforming it to sharp silver. Lucky struck out with his hooves, front and back.

A full-scale battle erupted, bloody minutes flying by. Then, quite unexpectedly, help dropped from the sky. The Fennrys Wolf leaped from out of nowhere into the center of the fray. Tearing two redcaps apart with his bare hands, his eyes black with battle madness, he turned to Sonny and grinned wildly. “Maddox and me will clear a path. Take the damned horse and ride, Sonny-boy. Ride fast.”

Maddox nodded. “Go, Sonn. Go! Find her.”

Sonny flung his leg over Lucky’s back, and the kelpie bounded through the space that Maddox and the Wolf cleared free.

Thank the gods Tyffanwy had taken care to remove all the talismans. Without them, there could be no Roan Horse to call a Rider to, and Sonny could ride Lucky without fear of waking the Hunt. He needed the horse’s speed to find Kelley in time—before Auberon or Mabh got to her first. Lucky pounded over the ground and crested a hill, and Sonny saw
the Central Park Carousel silhouetted in the harsh light of the moon.

A single, piercing note shattered the still darkness.

A note from Mabh’s war horn.

Beneath Sonny’s thighs, Lucky bucked and reared, seemingly trying to throw the Janus from his back. Sonny would have been only too glad to oblige, but when he tried to fling himself off, he found that he could no longer move his legs. His knees gripped tight to the horse’s flanks, and his hand was clenched in a frozen fist, grasping Lucky’s mane.

The horn sounded a second note.

Sonny heard rather than saw the charms, then, rattling together just under the bow Tyffanwy had tied in Lucky’s forelock. He reached forward and gave the ribbon a yank. It fell away, revealing three onyx gems concealed in the kelpie’s mane, hidden by a glamour until that very moment. The veil was so sophisticated, so perfect, that it was no surprise both he and Tyff had missed them.

Sonny thrust his free hand into the pocket of his satchel and found the three stones from the path by the Lake. The ones he’d shown Auberon.

They were exactly that: stones. Common pebbles spell-cast to make them look like the onyx gems that had been tied throughout the kelpie’s mane.

And the bastard sat there and playacted, implicating Mabh without ever actually saying it was she
, Sonny thought bitterly as he threw the pebbles to the ground in a helpless rage.
I guess
I know now where Kelley gets her acting talents—her father’s a master at the art
.

Beneath him, the kelpie tossed his head violently. Sonny felt the horse’s muscles bunch and lengthen, his body mass increasing and growing heated, as if stoked from some great internal furnace roaring to life.

One last horrible note split the night air. Beneath Sonny, the kelpie leaped up, and the young Janus felt a second great heat bloom to life—in the place where, only a moment ago, his own broken heart had been.

He never should have taken the chance of climbing onto the kelpie’s back.

He cursed himself bitterly.
Another grave mistake, Sonny
.

It was his last coherent thought.

A great emptiness spread through his chest in the wake of the blazing heat, and there no longer seemed to be any reason for him to fight the consuming fury that washed over him. The fiery stallion beneath him leaped into the air, and the only impulse left to Sonny was to hunt.

And kill.

T
he notes of the war horn tore at Kelley. She put her hands over her ears as she ran and shut her eyes, which made her trip over what lay before her on the gravel pathway—a bloodied, wild-eyed apparition.

It was Bob.

He was gasping for breath and looked as though he might have run the entire way from the theater. He flung out an arm toward Kelley and tried to speak, but it was as if invisible hands clutched at his throat and covered his mouth. Kelley instinctively recognized his affliction for what it was: The boucca wasn’t simply out of breath; he had been enchanted.
He struggled in vain to say something, but the words would not come out of his mouth. Flecks of pinkish foam appeared at the corners of his pale green lips.

Suddenly, as if the words of the Bard had a magic of their own, he began to quote his own lines from the play.

“Up and down, up and down,”
he chanted, keening with the effort to push the words past his pain-clenched teeth.
“I will lead them up and down
.”

Bob pointed behind him with a shaking finger.
“I am feared in field and town. Goblin, lead them up and down.”

Kelley wanted to help the tortured boucca but found herself, instead, compelled to look past where Bob writhed in pain: up the road, to the top of the hill—and the carousel.

Dark glittering energy crackled and danced over the contours of the little building. The shuttered security doors, pulled down tight for the night, wavered like a mirage and faded from existence. Weird, eerie lights danced and played in the darkened shadows beneath the carousel roof, and thunder-clouds boiled in the sky above. In the distance, Kelley could hear the baying of what sounded like a whole pack of Black Shuck.

All Kelley could think of in her panic was to hide. Become invisible.

Hadn’t Sonny once said she could do that?

The howling grew louder.

Kelley wrapped her arms around Bob and wished with all of her desperate, terrified might that she could disappear. She
looked down and saw Bob’s pale green eyes go wide, and then he vanished from sight altogether. Both of them did.

She could still hear Bob’s ragged breathing, feel his limbs trembling in her grasp. The effort of casting the veil almost caused her to black out. Darkness threatened to descend upon her, but she fought against it, holding tight to the wounded fae in her arms.

When she was able to see clearly again, she looked toward the carousel, and Bob’s warning became suddenly, devastatingly clear.

The ride began to spin, wreathed in inky, glistening smoke.

In the air above the carousel, the magnificent fiery stallion that used to be Lucky galloped into view. He screamed and lashed out with teeth and hooves, long limbs coiled in flame. Astride his back, the Rider kept his seat effortlessly upon the bucking, plunging mount.

Kelley felt her strength falter as the tears streamed down her face and, briefly, the veil she had managed to call up wavered. The Rider’s gaze shifted and for a moment they locked eyes. She cried out his name, but his expression remained remote.

Frozen and merciless.

Sonny
…

The thin, cheerful music of the calliope twisted into a cacophony of skirling battle cries, and Kelley cringed at the howling rage. She watched in horror as the wooden horses of the carousel convulsed, shuddering into terrible life. Her nightmares were becoming real right before her eyes. Bloodthirsty
Faerie hunters shimmered into being astride the gaily painted saddles.

Sounds of the Black Shuck approaching grew closer.

Kelley pushed every ounce of strength she had into the protective veil she barely knew how to create. She looked down to see herself and Bob fade back into nothingness just as the Wild Hunt surged forth into the night.

Singing in their terrible joy, the hunters climbed into the sky to join their leader, the Rider on the Roan Horse. They were joined by a pack of thundering Black Shuck that burst through the trees and leaped into the air, snapping at the horses’ heels.

Kelley turned her attention back to Sonny. A gust of wind whipped his dark hair madly around his beautiful, remote face as his silver gaze raked the space where he had seen her cowering with Bob only a moment before. Kelley whispered his name, but Sonny looked through her with unseeing eyes. Brow clouding with anger, he whirled his sword about his head and hauled savagely on the reins of his fiery steed.

Together they climbed a spiral path higher and higher into the storm, the Wild Hunt following in their wake.

This was all her fault. Even if she hadn’t ever known who—what—she was, it was because of her that this was happening.

As the Hunt galloped off over the treetops and out of sight, Kelley let the veil drop. She was trembling in every limb with the effort of having maintained it for even that short time.
Huddled in her lap, Bob was still gulping for air, unable to speak. Fishing the clover charm from her purse, Kelley clasped it around his neck. His gasping cries stopped almost immediately as the protective aura of the talisman enveloped him, and he looked up at Kelley with gratitude.

“What happened to you?” she asked, her voice catching in her throat at the sight of him once again.

“Auberon…” Bob coughed—a sickly, broken sound. “He came to the theater looking for you. Took it badly when I wouldn’t tell him where you were…. I came here to warn you. We were wrong. The Hunt…it wasn’t Mabh. It was Auberon. Had to be. He doesn’t want you back—he wants you gone. Dead.”

“But he’s my
father
,” she whispered.

Bob attempted a sardonic grin that just came off as pained. “It’s not like he sent you birthday presents, Kelley.”

“Thanks to
you
, Goodfellow, I didn’t have an address.”

The sound of the Faerie king’s voice made Kelley jump. She turned to see him stoop to retrieve something that lay in the grass beside the empty carousel house. When he straightened, Kelley saw that Auberon clutched a tall bronze war horn in his fist.

She rose to her feet and stood protectively over Bob. Without the shield of the charm she’d worn all her life, Kelley could feel her power humming in her veins, even drained as she was. The air seemed charged, electric, where it touched her skin.

“Impressive,” he said as he walked down the hill toward
Kelley, his glance sweeping over her, lingering on her luminous silver wings. He stopped in front of her and smiled coldly. “Well—the apple does not fall far, it seems.”

“I’m nothing like you,” Kelley snarled. “I will
be
nothing like you.”

“What will you be then? It is quite apparent, from where I stand, that you no longer belong to
this
world.”

In the distance, they could hear the cries of humans in the park as the Wild Hunt—and all the other dangerous fae—rampaged through the night.

“Or what will be
left
of this world. After
they
are finished with it.”

Kelley felt herself falter.

“Of course, all of this can be remedied. But only
I
can remedy it.” Her father’s voice softened. “Forsake your claim, girl. Give up the Unseelie power that resides within you. Do that, and I will grant you the means to stop the Wild Hunt. With my help, you can keep this world safe and rescue Sonny Flannery from the fate of the Rider.” He pointed to the sky with the horn. “Save the man you love, Daughter.”

“I’d
really
rather you didn’t call me that,” she ground out between clenched teeth. As strong as she was now that her Faerie gift was unleashed, Kelley knew she was still far too inexperienced. She didn’t even know how to fly yet. There was no way she could even come anywhere close to stopping the Hunt. Not without help.

“Do we have a bargain?” her father asked.

“What the hell do you think?”

“I’m afraid I need to hear you say it,” he murmured coldly.

“
Yes
, damn you.” Kelley stifled a sob. “Give me what I need to stop the Wild Hunt. So that I can save Sonny.” She looked up into her father’s cold, dark eyes. “Do that, and I will let you take the Unseelie power from my blood,” she whispered.

“Agreed,” Auberon said as he stepped toward her.

“Wait.” In the distance, Kelley could see one of Mabh’s Storm Hags throwing thunderbolts at a careening carriage. She remembered what Herne had told her. “I also want something else in return.”

“That is?”

“While I go take care of the Wild Hunt,
Dad
,” she growled, “I want you to get ‘Mom’ and her psycho Bitch Brigade the hell out of my park. And this time make sure she never comes back.”

“With pleasure, my dear.” Auberon smiled magnanimously and spread his hands wide. “With very great pleasure.”

Auberon placed a hand on her head and whispered a word. Suddenly it was like the song of Kelley’s power went from a tune played on a pennywhistle to a full-blown orchestral score. She lit up the park.

Then, just as suddenly, there was silence. Darkness.

Kelley fell to her knees, hollow and empty. Too empty even to weep.

Her father stood before her, his icy skin glowing with
her
light and his eyes filled with a warmth that had been absent prior to that moment. She watched as he absorbed her gift fully into himself. The brightness faded; his eyes grew dark again.

“Okay,” she said finally, her voice flat, muted. “How do I stop them?”

The king looked down on her, once more as distant as a marble statue. “I cannot tell you how. But I
have
given you the means by which you might accomplish the task. The rest, you’ll just have to figure out for yourself.”

“What?”

“Good luck, child.” Auberon turned to go.

Kelley was seething. “You’re a real son of a bitch. You know that?”

“I can be,” Auberon said, as he looked at her with something like regret in his eyes. “Unfortunately,
you
are the daughter of one. Remember that.”

He touched her cheek and then spun on his heel and stalked into the night, turning himself into a falcon as he went. Wings spread wide, the king flew away with Mabh’s war horn clutched in his taloned grasp.

Not knowing what else to do, Kelley turned back to Bob, where he lay upon the ground, limp and unmoving. The charm may have kept the boucca from further hurt, but he was still desperately injured.

“Bob…” She shook him until he groaned. “Bob—Puck!
Wake up! The Hunt. They’re awake and they’re hunting humans.”

Above her now, she could see the Hunt. They plunged and dipped crazily through the sky, howling with cruel laughter as one of the Faerie hunters chased down a woman dressed in a torn and bloodied Cleopatra costume, plucking her from the ground to drag her through the air by her feet. “They’re hurting them!”

“Aye,” Bob said, sounding a bit delirious. “Don’t worry—they’re just playing. They’ll get around to killing them soon enough.”

“I’d like to avoid that eventuality if at all possible, Bob. What do I do?”

“You must reach Sonny. You’re the only one who can.”

“He’s two hundred feet in the air!”

Bob giggled a bit and his head lolled back. “You’re a Faerie. Use your wings….”

“Auberon took them!” Kelley almost screamed with frustration.

“Oh…” His voice was reduced to a whisper as his strength ebbed. “Then you must find another way. You have a
lot
of power….”

“
Had
, Bob.”

“Still…do….”

“What are you talking about?” she pleaded desperately. “Auberon took it from me; I gave it back!”

“Thou marvell’st at my words?” the boucca gasped, his eyes closing.

“No—Bob!—no more Shakespeare!” Kelley shook him again, trying to jar him out of the poetic lapse. Now was not the time.

“But hold thee still,” he murmured, those same cryptic lines he’d used to warn her in the dressing room. “Things bad begun make strong themselves by ill….”

Then Bob the boucca passed out from pain.

Sonny, where are you when I need you?

It was a stupid question. All Kelley had to do was look into the sky and see him blazing across the treetops like a comet, the band of killer Fae hot on his heels as they pursued screaming humans about the park.

Kelley turned inward, searching for an answer. When she closed her eyes, she found herself once more in the vision she’d had in rehearsal so long ago, a place she now recognized as Herne’s forest—the spring glade where Mabh had enchanted the kelpie. In her mind she looked across the clearing and saw Sonny standing once again in the shadows of the woods. He smiled at her, that sad curving of his beautiful lips, and lifted his hands, palms wide. The white branches of the birch trees at his back glowed dimly in the light that shone from Sonny’s hands, arching over his head like the antlers of a stag.

The white King Stag…

That was it.

Kelley’s eyes snapped open, and she gasped at the revelation. The Faerie king could take away
his
power from her blood…but Kelley was willing to bet that he couldn’t take away
Mabh’s
. Mabh, the Autumn Queen, who ruled the Borderlands. She, who had created the Wild Hunt in the first place, who’d twisted the Faerie hunters, stolen away and hidden their prey…

Mabh, Queen of Air and Darkness. Her mother.

Auberon had told her not to forget that, but she’d shied away from the fact.

Bob had told her too.
Things bad begun make strong themselves by ill
.

Fight fire with fire. That was what they had been trying to tell her.

Ignoring as best she could the chaos all around her, Kelley closed her eyes again and searched even deeper inside of herself—looking for the dark, dangerous spark of her mother’s power.

There
.

She touched something in her mind: twisting, serpentine energy. It was buried so deep that she never would have found it if Auberon hadn’t taken away the blinding brilliance of her Unseelie gift. Kelley’s mind recoiled from that initial touch, even though she knew she was going to have to use that dark gift. Draw upon it. Embrace it.