Courting Darkness (8 page)

Whereas the main structure was more utilitarian, Aeval’s throne room was brilliant and beautiful. The domed roof sparkled with silver filigree, etched across a jeweled pebble surface. Like cobblestones, except the arched ceiling glowed with scattered gems of polished obsidian and onyx, moonstone, and a cobalt blue stone with which I wasn’t familiar. Inset into the stonework were mosaics of the moon and stars, of Aeval herself, rising against the night sky, standing in front of a silver ocean, with breakers crashing on the darkened shore.

The throne room itself was swathed in a landscape of silver and indigo and blue. Aeval’s colors—the colors of night. Mist floated along the floor, and a pale ice blue light emanated from beneath the wisps of fog that floated up to curl softly around my wrists. Scattered banquettes buttressed the walls, all in shades of gray and navy with silver scallops embroidered across the seats.

The sheer beauty of the austere hall caught in my throat, and I raised my fingers to my mouth, in awe of the work that had been done and the magical threads running through that work. Beside me, Delilah gave a short gasp.

And in the center, a silver-clad throne. The seat and back were hewn of yew and elder boughs; silver embellishments wound their way through the arms and along the back. The throne was more wild than regal, primal like the night, sprawling across the back of the barrow.

And on the throne sat Aeval, tall and frozen, like a statue carved from ice. Her hair was dark as the night and her skin, alabaster and porcelain. She wore a gossamer dress woven of silver threads, and as she stood, it made a shifting sound like soft metal chain clinking gently against itself.

I knelt at the base of her throne, and Delilah curtsied.

“Camille, you are not summoned to report until the Solstice. What brings you to my feet this night?” Her voice echoed in the chamber as she made her way down the steps of the throne. “Has something gone amiss?”

“Actually, yes,” I said, finding my tongue. Titania made me so nervous I had trouble talking to her—she’d gone from drunken and downfallen Fae Queen to regaining her powers and shining like the sun. Morgaine was my cousin, but I no longer trusted her and every word out of her mouth was a riddle, fraught with ulterior motives. But Aeval—Aeval I could talk with, once I overcame the immediate fan-girl factor. I hadn’t mentioned it to anybody, but if I had to pledge myself to
any
of the Triple Threat’s courts—I was relieved it was her.

“Then by all means, tell me.” Aeval motioned to a pair of banquettes that sat near the throne. “Please, take rest, and eat with me.” She clapped her hands, and a serving girl appeared from out of the mist, bearing a tray with fruits and cheese, sliced venison, and sugar-sprinkled cookies.

I eagerly accepted a plate—the chill of the Northlands had increased my appetite, as had the exhaustion. Delilah also accepted a plate, but I knew her mind was only on the cookies. My sister was the original junk food junkie, and I worried about what all that crap would do to her system after a while. And if we
did
go home to Otherworld, there weren’t any Cheetos over there, nor were there a lot of candy stands. Cookies—yes, but a Snickers bar? Not so much.

Protocol dictated that we eat a few bites before diving into our business. Even with Chase’s life on the line, the Triple Threat took protocol and manners seriously, and if we broke with tradition, we’d be looking at no help at all.

After a few moments, I set my plate down on the seat next to me and turned to Aeval.

“I have come for help. And I’ve come to redeem the favor you promised me.” The words stuck in my throat, but I managed to get them out. Having a marker like that was big business, and having to spend it meant I would be back at a disadvantage. But Chase was worth it.

Aeval inclined her head. “The matter must be grave indeed, for you to approach me. What is it that only the Queen of Night can help you with?”

I quickly ran through the incident at Tangleroot Park. “And whatever it was sucked Chase right in. We need your help. Whatever it was felt heavily Fae to me. I don’t know how—or, even if—we can reopen the portal. I doubt Chase can get out on his own. We need help rescuing him.”

Aeval rested her hands on her knees. She gazed into my eyes. “You would use your marker to save your friend?”

“Yes, but there’s more to it than that. This portal—we need to know where it leads, because I have the feeling that isn’t the last we’ve seen of it. So far, we don’t know if anything came through, but I have a nasty premonition that next time it opens up, something might enter this world. And whatever it is, I have a feeling we’re dealing with a Big Bad here.”

“Really? As in . . . demonic?”

I thought about it for a moment. My sense wasn’t that we were dealing with demons with this portal, but something else. “No, I don’t think it’s a demon. But the siren song . . . the sense of heavy Fae energy—it made me nervous.”

“You really think there’s something that big back there?” Aeval never fidgeted, but I could tell I’d piqued her interest. “Elder Fae?”

“Perhaps. I wouldn’t be surprised. Aeval, Chase is one of our closest friends. And he’s one of the best allies the OW Fae can claim. We have to save him.” I let out a slow sigh. “Are you willing to help?”

I waited. Aeval would help or not as she chose. Making one last plea, I held out my hands. “For some reason, I think you’re the only one who can aid us with this.”

Another moment passed, and then the Queen of Night gave me a slight nod. “I will come with you and examine the energy signature. But we will go there my way. It won’t take as long. I sense you are tired, Camille. You smell like the Northlands and your aura is diminished this evening.”

She rose and called for her guard. With five stalwart Fae attending us—all as dark and pale as their queen—we left the palace and walked across the snow-covered square to a twin pair of oak trees. A portal—similar to the one we’d seen in the park—shimmered between them, and the crackle of energy woke me up.

Just as silently, we entered the portal one by one, following the Queen, and the world ripped into a million pieces as we went singing through space and time.

 

We ended up, not in Tangleroot Park, but in a portal two streets over, in the backyard of what looked like an abandoned house. But on closer inspection, I realized the house was inhabited.

“Who lives here?” I pointed to the faint light that emanated from the windows.

Aeval smiled faintly. “We have our spies and guards. This is a safe house, should there ever come need of it.”

I didn’t press. Her tone told me that wasn’t an option. But I memorized the address—24132 Westerwood Lane—in case we ever needed it.

I glanced over at Delilah, who was examining the yard. There were overgrown ferns and towering firs everywhere, and the lot must have been a good half acre in size—unusual in the city. But we followed Aeval and her guards, setting off for the park on foot. The sidewalks were icy, but one of the guards offered his arm to me and I gratefully accepted, too tired to see straight.

We reached the park within a few minutes and led Aeval to where the portal had been. As we neared the place, Delilah and I looked in vain for any sign of Chase, but he was nowhere in sight. The energy still hung thick in the air, and I could catch glimpses of it here and there—sparkling like a shadow that was there one moment, then gone the next.

Aeval silently approached the place where the portal had been. She held out her hands and closed her eyes, her fingers divining the energy. I could see her aura—the more tired I got, the better my Sight was for such things—and she looked lit up like a Yule tree on steroids.

Wearily, I saw a bench a few yards away and trudged over, sitting down, not caring if the snow was freezing my ass off. Delilah joined me, though she brushed the snow off her side of the bench first.

We said nothing—there was nothing left to say until Aeval was done and had figured out whatever she could. But Delilah took my hand and I curled my fingers around hers. I knew she was hurting. Even though she and Chase were just friends now, they would always care for one another. And I cared, too.

“I never thought to sense this again, not here, not in this day and age.” Aeval was suddenly in front of us, staring down at us with a horrified look on her face. Holy hell. Not good. Not good for a Fae Queen to be afraid—that could only mean trouble on the horizon.

“What is it?” I asked, my voice barely audible in the dark of the night.

“Several things, all from the Elder Fae. First, a dark energy—one I do not recognize except that it’s female, and hungry. Second, Stollen Kom Lightly.” She said the name so abruptly that at first I didn’t understand her. But then it registered, and I slowly raised my gaze to hers.

“The Bog Eater.”

She nodded.

The Bog Eater
. . . I closed my eyes. “No . . . he can’t still be alive after all these years. I thought he was killed by one of the gods.”

“So it was rumored, but apparently the gossip mill was wrong in this case. Come, we must discuss this before taking any action. There is much to be lost if we aren’t careful, including your detective’s life.”

Aeval motioned for us to stand, and we began to walk back toward the safehouse, to the portal leading to the barrow.

“Stollen Kom Lightly was thought long lost in the haunts of time. Legend goes he was killed by Lugh the Long Handed, but apparently that was only a rumor, probably started by Lugh’s followers.”

I began to tune out a little. I knew where she was going with this and really didn’t want to follow it through to the logical conclusion. Wishing Smoky were here, or Trillian, I pulled closer to Delilah and she wrapped her arm around my waist.

“Who is the Bog Eater?” Delilah asked. “I don’t recognize the name.”

Aeval glanced at the sky. “Cold tonight, and colder still tomorrow. A bad time for grim tales, but perhaps there is no right time.” After another pause, she said, “There was once a goblin who was so terribly vicious that he was noticed by Jac-O HorseTail. Jac-O was known as the scourge of the Western Wastelands before the Great Divide.”

The Fae Queen inhaled deeply, slowly letting out her breath in a white stream. “Jac-O HorseTail was the son of one of the Long-Cutter Gray Sisters—the webweavers who spin out confusion and hatred into the world. The three hags are not members of the Hags of Fate, but they
are
from the Elemental world, and it’s thought they have some relation to Fae.”

She paused as we crossed the street, skirting a car slowly edging along the icy path. The driver slammed on the brakes and jumped out to gawk at us, but Aeval waved her hand and whispered “Heed us not,” and he just as quickly slipped back into his car and drove on.

When we were standing by the portal leading back to Talamh Lonrach Oll, I stopped her. “How is this portal guarded? What if some kid comes up and decides to explore the pretty sparkles?”

She laughed then. “You see this because it is of your heritage—Fae magic. But mortals do not see the portal, nor will they sense it unless they are gifted with the Sight like your detective. And even if they sense it, they cannot pass without the activation words. Yes,” she added with an impish grin that suddenly made her look all too young and playful, “we password-protect our portals.”

Aeval whispered the keyword (taking pains to keep it out of earshot), the portal opened, and we slipped back through to the barrow palace. She led us back into the throne room and bade us sit, while calling for cups of hot cider.

“As I was saying, Jac-O HorseTail was the son of one of the Long-Cutter Gray Sisters, and he was a loner. Even in the darker realms of the Unseelie, there are outcasts and misfits. He was a vicious and evil creature, but he was lonely. The goblin befriended him—perhaps he anticipated a reward, or perhaps he truly found a friendship with the creature. Either way, Jac-O’s mother was so grateful that she did what many mothers do. She gave the goblin a gift. She changed him, made him far more powerful than he could have ever hoped to become as a regular goblin. And so Stollen Kom Lightly was born—the Bog Eater.”

“He’s considered one of the Elder Fae, isn’t he?” I was running through my memory, trying to dredge up what I’d been taught about him.

“Yes. And his first act was to kill and eat Jac-O HorseTail. That, of course, did not sit well with Jac-O’s mother or her sisters, and so they laid a curse on him to wander through bog and marsh, ever hungry, never able to sufficiently fill his belly. They could not kill him—Jac-O’s mother had made him almost invincible—but they could curse him with a miserable existence.”

Delilah cleared her throat. “I vaguely remember mention of that story in childhood but didn’t remember the names.”

“The Bog Eater will forever starve, no matter how much he eats. He’s always hungry, and he hates all who are happy and filled with life. It was thought Lugh the Long Handed killed him in battle before the Great Divide, but apparently we were wrong. The energy I sensed through that portal was dark and boggy, and the smell of peat rang thick. I know the Bog Eater is in there, somewhere. But behind him stands an even stronger shadow—the female energy I sensed. And that shadow—
that
is where your detective has gone. I do not think the shadow is for good, but I cannot tell for sure.” She fell silent.

I didn’t want to ask the question but had to. I especially didn’t want to ask it with Delilah around. “Do you think Chase is still alive, considering that the Bog Eater is hiding there?”

Delilah cringed, but Aeval didn’t pay any attention.

“Your detective has gone into the shadow behind the Bog Eater. Whether he is alive, I do not know. But the Bog Eater did not gobble him up—that I can tell. Chase’s signature still trails, so my best guess is that yes, he is alive.”

Delilah breathed a sigh of relief at the same time I did, although I didn’t want to think about what might be happening to him. That would be too much to deal with, so I focused on the next order of business.