Fire Burn and Cauldron Bubble (33 page)

“The King of the Fairies, Odran,” Rand said.

“Can you at least get him to meet with us?” I asked.

Rand nodded. “I can try.”

Sinjin stood up and clapped his hands together. “I must be returning to my room, the sun is not far. Shall we resume this delightful conversation this evening?”

Rand gritted his teeth. “Yes.”

“Very well, until tonight. If you need me, I am two doors down,” he said with a smile aimed only at me. “Though I will not be able to assist you until the sun goes down.”

Sinjin started for the door.

“Thanks Sinjin,” I said.

He smiled and bowed. Rand scoffed and turned away from him, apparently ill at ease with the idea of working with the vampire. Sinjin quirked a brow, kissed the air and blew it toward me, then he left.

“You shouldn’t trust him,” Rand said, turning back to face me at the sound of the door closing.

I wanted nothing more than to avoid Rand’s paranoia. So, he’d been sort of right with Trent, who cares? I was pretty sure he was wrong about Sinjin. “Please, Rand, I’ve had about three hours of sleep.”

He didn’t respond and I didn’t care. There was so much to do, so much to worry about, and I had no idea what to concentrate on first. It was overwhelming and exhausting all at once. I couldn’t help my yawn.

“Jolie, you should take a nap.”

“I’m fine,” I said but just at the mention of a nap, my entire body heaved with the need to lie down and close my eyes.

“You need some sleep. It’s going to take me a while to get a meeting with Odran and you need your energy.”

“I don’t have time,” I started.

He frowned. “Jolie, we have all day.”

I took a seat on the bed and sighed, starting to untie my shoelaces. I dropped the shoes from my feet and looked up to find Rand watching me. As soon as our eyes met, he closed the distance between us and dropped to his knees. He held each side of my face between his palms and there was a pain in his eyes I’d never seen before.

“I will never let anything happen to you again,” he said and kissed me.

#

The sun streamed through the windows, and I rubbed my eyes against the onslaught of day. Forcing myself to sit, I stifled a yawn and stretched my arms and legs. The room was quiet. Too quiet. I glanced around and realized Rand was nowhere to be seen.

Eager to hear of any news, I tossed aside the blankets and hobbled to the bathroom. I turned on the cold water and washed my face, hoping to wash away my lethargy. Drying my face, I walked back into the room and my gaze fell to the alarm clock on the bedside table. Noon.

“Sheesh,” I whispered to myself and tossed the towel on the bathroom floor. I’d slept over six hours. It wasn’t a good feeling—we had lots to do and Rand shouldn’t have let me sleep for so long.

I sat back down on the bed. What to do now? I didn’t get a chance to make a decision before the door flew open and a smiling Christa swept inside.

“Jules!” she cried and threw her arms around me.

My cheeks were already wet with tears before she even reached me. “Chris, God, it’s so good to see you.”

She pulled away and faced me with blurry eyes. “I was so worried about you, Jolie. And, Rand, I’ve never seen him so completely miserable. God, I’m so glad you’re back.”

She wiped her eyes against the sleeve of her sweatshirt and seemed to be getting herself under control. I sniffled and wiped my eyes, trying to do the same. “God, do I have so much to tell you,” I started.

“Did Bella hurt you?” she asked.

I just shook my head, not wanting to revisit any of the painful and ugly memories.

“Ah, the happy reunion,” Rand’s voice interrupted and I turned to see him standing in the doorway, a brown paper bag in his hand. “I brought a late breakfast.”

I smiled and took a seat on the bed. Christa sat next to me. Rand handed us a bag of croissants, scones and muffins. A breakfast of champions, as far as I was concerned.

I reached for a croissant.

“I was able to get a meeting with Odran.” Rand said as he relaxed into an armchair near the bed.

“Odran?” Christa asked.

d my e0" width="32"> I nodded and chewed until I was able to swallow my mouthful. “He’s the King of the Fairies. Our plan is to try to convince him to join our side. Otherwise, it’s hopeless. Bella will easily defeat us.” It was the Cliff’s Notes version.

“Oh,” Christa nodded. “When are we meeting with him?”

Rand arched his back, stretching his arms above his head before returning them back to his lap. “Tomorrow morning.”

“Fantastic. Where?” I continued.

“Odran lives in Glenmore Forest in Scotland.”

“How long will it take us to get there?” Christa asked and I could already see her picturing men in kilts.

Rand shrugged. “All day and into the evening. It’s not close.”

“So…” I started.

“Maybe eight or nine hours.”

Christa groaned. “Ugh, I hate road trips.”

I stood up and the same feelings of anxiety I’d been experiencing since yesterday returned anew. “It’s past noon now, we need to get going.”

Rand nodded. “Odran was kind enough to offer us hospitality in Glenmore tonight. But, you’re correct, we should leave soon. It’s going to take a while to get there.”

“Why can’t we ever fly?” Christa moaned.

Rand chuckled. “Because, Christa, there isn’t a direct flight.”

“Fine. Then I’ll go pack,” she said and started for the door. “It shouldn’t take me long.”

“What of Sinjin?” I asked, remembering we’d planned on seeing him this evening.

“Odran is our priority,” Rand answered and his eyes told me not to argue with him. I imagined he was finding it difficult enough to be allied with the vampire. And, anyway, Odran was our priority.

I nodded and neared the desk. Grabbing a sheet of paper, I wrote:

Sinjin,

We’ve headed to Glenmore Forest in Scotland. We have a meeting with King Odran in the morning. Please call Rand’s cell phone tomorrow and we will give you more instruction.

Wish us luck!

J.

Then I jotted down Rand’s cell number and sealed the letter in an envelope. I wasn’t sure why I bothered writing the letter—if Sinjin really wanted to, he could track me since he’d had my blood. Then I remembered that Ryder could too. For all I knew, maybe he and Bella were tracking me now. I had to swallow the bile that immediately rose up my throat.

“Rand, Ryder can track me.”

Rand’s color drained. “He drank from you?”

I nodded and Rand shook his head. “Don’t worry about that now, Jolie. We’ll be safe once we reach Glenmore. Fairy magic is too powerful for Bella.”

“Okay.” I thought it best to leave out the part where Sinjin had drunk from me also. We needed Sinjin and if Rand knew that little tidbit, I didn’t think he could handle it.

“If I ever see Ryder again, I will kill him,” Rand said, his eyes deadly.

I didn’t respond, didn’t tell him that I was reserving that honor for myself, but pulled open the door and headed down the hallway to Sinjin’s room, hoping and praying Bella and Ryder weren’t hot on our tails.

TWENTY TWO

Trees, trees everywhere but not a place to sleep.

I leaned forward, my breath fogging up the window. In fact, I could see nothing but trees.

“There’s nothing here,” Christa said.

That was an understatement. If Rand thought Christa would sleep in a tent, he was mistaken. Sorely.

“Where are we staying?” I asked.

Rand smiled and put the Range Rover in park at the mouth of Glenmore forest. “Here.”

“Here? Are we camping?” Christa asked, her tone issuing a warning that Rand’s answer better not be a “yes”.

“No,” he said and reached inside his pocket, pulling out a gold key. It was about as long as my middle finger and just as thin.

“This will lead us to the fairy village within Glenmore.”

“Where’d you get that?” I asked, in awe. A fairy key…I don’t know—it just sounded so Harry Potter.

Rand shrugged. “As soon as Odran invited us, it appeared in my palm. He said we should just follow it, and it will lead us where we need to go. Everyone ready?”

“Yeah,” Christa answered, pushing open her door. “What about our stuff? How long are we going to have to walk? My bag isn’t very light.”

“Leave all your things here. You’ll have no need for them in Glenmore. The fairies do things a little differently,” Rand answered.

It seemed like he was purposely being vague and I didn’t bother insisting that he enlighten us. I was still tired. It was just past eleven p.m., but it felt like I’d been awake an eternity. My nap hadn’t done much for me.

I unbuckled my seatbelt and opened the door, feeling the cold air rush in like ghosts. Well, hopefully wherever we were going, it wouldn’t take long to get there. Walking in the midle of the night in the freezing cold wasn’t my idea of a good time. And knowing the unreliable UK weather, we might just find ourselves in a downpour.

Christa and I joined Rand and watched as the key poised itself in the palm of his hand and like an arrow, pointed forward.

“Wow, that’s weird,” Christa said.

“Fairy magic,” Rand answered with a half smile.

We started walking in the direction the key initiated and found ourselves in the thick and dense forest and wouldn’t you know it, raindrops started falling, plunking themselves against my head and face like Chinese water torture.

“Does the key say how long it will take to get there?” I asked grumpily, knowing the answer was a “no” but wanting to share my sour mood, all the same.

“No,” Rand answered. He kept his palm out in front of us and the key pointed forward like the figurehead of a woman on a ship. It was just missing a set of huge boobs.

Ferns brushed against my legs and the moss below my feet was like walking on sponges. Well, one thing I could say for Scottish forests was they were beautiful.

After ten minutes of walking straight, I wondered if the key might’ve been lost. It would have had us turn somewhere, right? How long can you just walk straight? The rain had steadily increased and now the Chinese water torture was more of a downpour. And no one had brought an umbrella. Not that you could have opened it anyway, the trees and foliage were so dense.

“This is fun,” Christa snapped and I couldn’t keep the smile from my face. I guess I wasn’t the only one in a foul mood.

The key then jumped once and faced left, looking like a pointer who’d just found a dead duck. So, the thing was working. Smiles alighted on Rand and Christa’s faces and I had to wonder if they had also been doubting the key’s navigational ability.

“Are there any scary things in the forests of Scotland?” Christa asked, peering around her as if she thought one of those scary things might jump her any second.

“Such as?” Rand asked.

“I don’t know, like bears and snakes and bobcats.”

“No bobcats. But I think they do have snakes here?” I asked.

Rand nodded. “Black Adders are the most serious. They’re poisonous. No bobcats but they do have wildcats.”

“What’s that?” Christa asked, her voice high and pitchy.

“It’s basically a feral pussycat,” Rand answered. “The worst it could do is scratch you.”

I laughed. “I think we have more to fear from the rain than we do from animals out here, Chris.”

The key jumped in Rand’s palm, as if annoyed we weren’t paying attention to it, and then aimed itself slightly right.

“I think it wants us to go right,” I said.

“A right would take us directly into that tree,” Christa said and pointed at the tall pine in question.

“Perhaps it wants us to walk to the tree,” Rand answered with a shrug.

The pine was bigger circumference-wise than any other trees near it, about as wide as the width of Rand’s Range Rover from driver’s seat to passenger’s. That was its only defining characteristic, otherwise it was just another tall pine tree.

Rand walked directly toward the tree until he stood before it. The key continued to point forward and hopped up and down as if it had to go to the bathroom. He took another step until he could touch the bark. The key lurched from his palm and thrust itself into the bark of the tree, then it cranked to the left and the inside of the tree suddenly became transparent.

“Whoa,” Christa said and stepped forward, peering through the tree. I stepped beside her and could see everything behind the tree as if I were looking right through it.

“Who wants to go first?” Rand asked.

Neither of us volunteered.

“Why don’t you go first, Rand?” I said sheepishly.

Rand smiled and with a salute, walked into the tree and disappeared. Christa and I faced each other and I took her hand. My heart was pounding like a son of a bitch.

“Ready?”

“Yeah,” she said with a nod. The tree was wide enough for us to walk through together, so that’s exactly what we did. I closed my eyes and took a step. It was like I was walking through warm water, balmy waves washing over me.

Upon coming out on the other side, I’m not sure what I noticed first: the blooming and enormous flowers growing as tall as my hips; the glowing pixies numbering in the hundreds as they flew from flower to flower; the thatched-roofed houses; Rand in a kilt or Christa and me in long dresses. I think Rand in a kilt won out.

“What the?” Christa started, looking down at herself. As soon as she saw Rand, she started giggling.

I, myself, couldn’t giggle. He looked like a wet dream come to life. His kilt was plaid green and blue and his chest was bare. He was wearing what looked like sandals with leather straps criss-crossing up his calves like what you’d see on a Roman soldier. I had to wonder if there was anything under the kilt. I mean, come on, how could I not?

Forcing my attention from Rand, I glanced down at myself and found the top of my dress was in the peasant fashion—blousy and puckered around my breasts. It had an empire waist and cap sleeves. The material was muslin, white with small yellow flowers. It was so long, I had to lift it in order to see my feet, which were ensconced in what looked like white leather ballet flats. When I leaned forward, my hair fell over my shoulder in a great mass of curls, tied back with a single white ribbon.

Christa’s ss was blue and looked much the same as mine, as did her hairstyle. Then my attention fell to my surroundings. It wasn’t a large village—maybe twelve thatched roof houses—well, as far as I could see. Circular globe lights as big as large dinner plates hung from the trees and aside from the glow of the pixies, provided the only light.

Flowers of a type I’d never seen before climbed up the trees, only to drop their heads back toward the ground, acting like a canopy of blooms above our heads. Their faces were broad—think sunflowers—and their colors spanned the rainbow: ocean blue, violet, fire engine red, lemon yellow. Some even seemed to reflect the dull light, almost glowing. A pixie landed on one such bloom directly above us; she was maybe the size of my thumb. As soon as she did, the flower wavered back and forth under her added weight and spilled an array of glitter-like prisms against my hair. The smell was like having a perpetual gardenia in your nose.

“Wow, your hair is glowing, Jules,” Christa whispered and dabbed at my head with her fingertip. When she pulled it back, the end was covered in glittery dust.

“Oh, neat,” I said.

Rand cleared his throat, apparently not as impressed with having glittery hair as we were. Christa and I smiled at one another and took a few steps toward Rand before a family of foxes trotted across the grass before us. I felt like I needed to pinch myself. Disneyland had nothing on this place.

“Have you ever been here before?” I asked Rand.

He shook his head. “It’s very rare to get an invitation to a fairy village. I’ve been to Mathilda’s but never to the King’s. This is a definite honor.”

“What should we do?” Christa asked, her gaze scanning our surroundings.

“I suppose we should walk into the village,” Rand answered, looking as much at a loss as we were.

“I like my dress,” Christa said.

I didn’t get a chance to respond before a small man, maybe five feet tall, approached us. He was about thirty yards away, but it took him only seconds to reach us. Hmm, maybe fairies could materialize just like vampires.

He looked sprightly—thin and even though he didn’t have wings, he bounced along as if he did. His hair was short and brown and his face was one you’d never remember—a certain blandness in his features. He, too, was dressed only in a kilt but his chest wasn’t one you’d admire. It looked more like a ten-year-old’s.

Suddenly I realized the rain had stopped. Come to think of it, I hadn’t gotten wet since we’d crossed over into fairy territory. The weather was remarkably temperate.

“C’mon, we’re jist aboot tae start supper,” the strange little man said in the thickest Scottish accent I’d ever heard. Not that I really knew any Scottish people but anyway… He grabbed my hand and tugged on it and I was left with no choice but to follow him. He was mighty strong for such a little thing and seemed to be in the biggest of hurries.

“They’re already blootered, aye, we been waitin’ for yht="0">st ah them are blootered anyway.”

I stopped walking and turned to face Rand, at a total loss. “Blootered?” I asked.

“Drunk,” Rand said with a smile.

“Aye,” The little man said and tapped his foot against the ground. He tugged on my hand again and led us into the center of the small village.

An enormous wooden table piled with breads, meats, fruits and vegetables stood before us. It was lit with maybe twenty candelabras. The candles were halfway melted, the wax falling from the metal and forming white pyramids on the table. Forty people or so sat around it and all faced us expectantly. At the head of the table, an exquisite gold chair with the face of a roaring lion stood unattended. It was the most incredible chair, or throne, I’d ever seen. The arms of the chair ended in great golden paws, and the lion’s tail wrapped around the legs of the chair, glistening in the candlelight. A red velvet pillow leaning against the seat was the only interruption in the solid gold.

“We’re ta ‘ave a clootie dumplin’, yer in luck,” the little man said, pulling my attention from the chair.

Of course, I had no idea what a
clootie dumpling
was, but hopefully it was tasty. I was a little peckish, as Sinjin would say. The little man didn’t let go of my hand but directed me to a vacant seat next to the gold chair and motioned for me to sit down. I did so as he took Christa’s hand and seated her across from me. He then took Rand’s arm and led him to the far end of the table. I smiled and gave him a little wave. He just frowned, apparently ill at ease with being relegated to the end of the table. The little man returned and took a seat next to Christa. On my other side was a child with red hair and freckles. He smiled shyly.

“Hello,” I said.

“Ello,” he responded and then giggled, dropping his gaze to his lap.

Still, the gold chair remained empty.

“Can you understand me?” Christa leaned forward and asked the boy. I couldn’t keep the smile from my face.

“Aye,” the boy said, his eyebrows furrowed.

“Chris, they’re speaking English,” I whispered.

“Oh,” she said and settled back into her seat.

The boy nudged me. “He’s a right diddie, so he is,” he said and nodded his head in the direction of the little man. By the expression on his face, I didn’t imagine he liked the man. “Aye, a clipe that one is.”

The man frowned at the young boy, his face growing red. Then his gaze found mine. “Doona bother aboot him, he’s jist a wee bugger.”

The boy turned angry eyes on the man. “Blow it out yer arse!”

Christa and I couldn’t help our giggles as the man stood up and looked like he was going to come around the table to reprimand the boy, but his attention fell beyond the boy and he dropped ino a low bow. As soon as he did so, everyone at the table inclined their heads and stared into their laps. I immediately followed suit and glanced at Christa to make sure she was doing the same. She was. Phew.

“Ye can raise yer heads.” The voice was deep and everyone immediately obeyed, their gazes resting on the person directly across from them. I faced Christa, but out of the corner of my eye, I watched a man tower over the golden chair.