Midnight Enchantment (18 page)

NIALL was a man of his word, even if he had to bend the rules a bit. He’d promised to recover the lost pieces of the
bosca fadbh
for the Shadow Queen, and he intended to honor that commitment even if the Shadow Queen had told him to relent.

He’d also promised to cast a concealment spell over Elizabeth’s loved ones and go to the Piefferburg witch on her behalf—essentially, he’d promised to protect her.

At first glance, Niall knew these two promises seemed to conflict, but if honoring both got him to his goal—the missing pieces of the
bosca fadbh
—he didn’t see where the harm lay.

Another man probably would have felt a duty to inform the Shadow Queen that Ragnar had been killed, along with all the goblins she’d sent, but he figured that could wait awhile. It bought him time.

He parked his SUV on an empty side street in Goblin Town, which was not very far from the Black Tower. It was his goal to stay clear of the Unseelie Court, if he could. The Piefferburg witch’s shop resided in an alley that curled around the base of the Black Tower, so he needed to be stealthy.

Stepping out onto the street in front of a clothing store, he
nodded at the gaping goblins that passed him by. Humanoid fae weren’t common in Goblin Town, though they were welcome. When they did come, they were almost always Unseelie.

The main street was cluttered with storefronts and bits of refuse blowing about in the gutters. Goblins tended to procreate much better than any of the other fae races. The goddess Danu seemed to grant children to them and no one else for some reason. As a result, the goblins were outgrowing the area that had been allotted to them at a great rate. They had the choice to move out of the city to the rural parts of Piefferburg, but most of them refused.

In the distance, above the tall, narrow buildings of the commercial area, he glimpsed the shiny golden dome of the Temple of Orna. To his right he could see the tall onyx tower of the Unseelie Court. Taking a right, he headed toward the massive gleaming black building.

The alley where the Piefferburg witch could be found was flanked on one side by the smooth quartz of the Black Tower. The other side was a brick wall, the back of the storefronts on the next street over. Halfway down the alley he could see a shaft of light illuminating the dark of early morning. Apparently the witch already knew he was coming. Typical.

Priss had taken the guise of maiden and stood framed in the doorway of her shop. “Well, hello, kindred fae.” She gave him a slow head-to-toe sweep. “What brings you to my door so late at night? Or early in the morning, I should say.” She winked and turned into her shop, crooking a finger for him to follow.

She always called him and his brother
kindred
. Of all the fae in Piefferburg, the three of them had magick that was closest alike. No one knew much about the Piefferburg witch other than she was very old and kind of a bitch. His magick and that of his brother was strong and versatile and so was Priss’s. But Priss’s magick came from mixing potions and combining herbs—that’s how she came by the moniker of
witch
, even though she was technically fae, or so it was assumed. His and Ronan’s magick was inborn, internal, and had nothing to do with combining ingredients outside of themselves.

“So you knew I was coming. Do you know why I’m here?” He stood just inside the doorway.

Each side of the room was lined with tables and shelves filled with jars, vials, and different shaped containers. It smelled of some acrid herb he couldn’t place. Her shop was in a pocket of reality that also existed in the Boundary Lands and had exit and entrance points in various locations of Piefferburg City.

She turned, twirling a tendril of her reddish blond hair around her finger. It reminded him of his recent encounter with Elizabeth. “I thought you came for me,” she replied, all innocence.

He gave her a slow perusal. “As lovely as you look…right now, no. I have other business.”

It was better to flatter than offend this woman. In actuality, he would never find himself interested in the Piefferburg witch, for reasons other than the fact she spent most of her time guised as a stooped, cackling old woman. No one really knew what her natural form was—maiden, mother, or crone—and he didn’t care. She was repulsive in any shape she took.

These days he was far more attracted to an impulsive, trouble-making redheaded water fae who had a penchant for protecting others and tended to land in trouble a lot.

Priss pouted. “Then why have you come?”

“I’m here on behalf of a friend. Her mother is dependent on the sprae to survive. She’s worried that if the walls break, the sprae will disperse and her mother will die. Do you know any magick that could help?”

The Piefferburg witch turned, and as she did so, her form shifted to crone. Mumbling to herself, she moved around the room, checking the labels on canisters and jars. “Perhaps something to capture the sprae.”

“I thought you couldn’t capture them.”

She shrugged. “Normally you can’t.” She gave him a sly look over her shoulder. “But there are ways to capture all sorts of creatures that are supposed to be uncatchable if you’re clever enough, aren’t there?”

So the minx did know about Elizabeth.

Niall shifted and grinned at her, narrowing his eyes. “Right, sure there are.”

She moved glass containers around on a shelf, making them clink. “I’ll need time.” She paused, then cackled. “And
money. Lots of that. But I know you’re good for it, aren’t you, Niall?”

He gritted his teeth for a moment before replying. “Of course.”

He’d pay whatever needed to be paid in order to see Elizabeth protected. The thought came so fast, hard, and unexpected that it rocked him back a step. Was that really why he was doing this? To protect Elizabeth?

Damn, he really was in trouble.

She waved a hand in his general direction. “Then if that’s all you need, you can go. I’ll need time to explore whether this is possible or not. Check back later.”

“Later, when?”

Dismissive hand wave again. “Later, later. Go now.”

Niall had no idea if he was getting played or not. Sometimes the witch acted like she could help and really couldn’t. Sometimes she tricked everyone involved, as she had with Kieran Aindréas Cairbre Aimhrea.

Kieran had had a curse laid on him that meant death to him and any woman he fell in love with. Then Kieran had gone and fallen in love with Charlotte Bennett. The witch had directed Kieran to kill himself before the curse took him in order to save Charlotte, without telling him that by sacrificing himself he was breaking the curse. Her intervention had saved both Kieran’s and Charlotte’s lives. That didn’t automatically make Niall believe she was doing him a good turn now, though.

Tricky witch was Priss.

ELIZABETH sat on a cliff at the edge of the ocean, looking down at the waves crashing against the rocks. The place was desolate. She hadn’t seen even one fae since she’d arrived.

Not far from where she sat, she’d found an abandoned cottage and was currently squatting there. She didn’t have much, since she’d been forced to leave everything she’d packed back at her house, but there was a bed, now covered in freshly purchased bedding, a fireplace, and a place to cook food. The roof leaked, but, hey, it wasn’t like she was going to live there forever.

She hoped.

Hugging herself, she stared out past the hazy warding that made up the far eastern part of the Piefferburg warding. Humans couldn’t see it. Fae couldn’t cross it. It made her sick that she was fighting to keep it up, but the thought of her mother suffocating to death made her sicker.

“Elizabeth Cely Saintjohn?”

She jumped up and whirled around, ready to dissolve into her water self. Crap, she hadn’t even heard a footstep. A tall black-haired man in the rose and gold garb of the Imperial Guard stood ten feet away from her. “How the hell did you find me, and what do you want?”

“You’ve chosen to set up a residence less than a mile from where Her Majesty, Queen of the Seelie, the Summer Royal, Caoilainn Elspeth Muirgheal, is currently residing.”

Oh, fantastic.
She hugged herself. It figured she’d picked the one place that was near the queen’s hideaway. Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “Does she want to borrow a cup of sugar or something?”

He didn’t crack a smile. “She wishes to meet with you.”

“Right now?” If she ever saw the Seelie queen again, it would be too soon. “I’m sort of busy today.”

“Right now.”
The guard turned and started down the path that led away from the cliff.

Of course,
now
. And the Summer Queen was used to getting her way.

Relenting, Elizabeth picked her way past a clump of brambles and followed the guard. He led her down a tangled mess of pathways, looking odd as he tromped through the woods in his shiny rose and gold hauberk and with a sword sheathed at his side.

Finally they came to a clearing, the opening of a cave looming in front of them. He ushered her through the dark crack and led her through a series of caverns to a carved set of wooden doors. Clearly the Summer Queen had had this place created a long time ago. It put Elizabeth in mind of a bomb shelter—and the queen had set off freaking World War III.

The guard swung the doors open, and Elizabeth was nearly blinded by the whiteness of the room within. Of course, that was a calculated move on the Summer Queen’s part. The
chamber was designed to shock and awe. All that white put Elizabeth in mind of the human’s notion of what heaven looked like—but Caoilainn was no angel.

She stepped onto the polished marble floor, her footsteps echoing as she walked to the center of the room, where she knew she would find the Summer Queen’s throne. The first time she’d met the queen it had been in the woods, without all the fanfare, but she knew enough about Caoilainn to understand that wasn’t her regular modus operandi. This place looked a lot like the throne room in the Rose Tower.

Caoilainn wanted people to worship her. She wanted to be the most powerful person around, the most feared. That’s what this was about for her. If the walls fell, she’d lose all that. Swallowed up in the wonders of the wide, wide world, she’d lose her court. Her life would be meaningless.

“So,” said Elizabeth, her voice echoing off the tall marble pillars and the painted fresco on the ceiling high above her head, “you’ve holed up in a wall just like a bug? Interesting.”

The Summer Queen gave her a tight smile, and the ringlets framing her beautiful, young face quivered. “You’ve got the pieces hidden very well and I don’t want them found. Ever. Tread carefully, girl. It might be better for me if you were dead.”

Good point.

She shifted on the balls of her feet and crossed her arms over her chest. “I understand we’re neighbors now.”

“You’re
holed up
like a wild animal in an abandoned shack not far away. My scouts reported the activity. Do you really think anything goes on in these woods that I don’t know about? There were no cliffs here when Piefferburg was created.
I made them
with my magick.
I am this land.
”

“I admit you know more than other people about many things. You knew about me and my mom, and you’re the only one.” She paused, the thought suddenly occurring to her. “Do you know anything about my biological family?”

The queen’s full, perfect ruby red lips parted in a smile. “That’s information I
may
choose to give you
if
you agree to my terms.”

“Terms?” She frowned, fingering the edge of her torn, dirty sweater and trying not to feel inadequate in front of the Summer Queen’s silk and satin finery. “We already had our
negotiations. I hide the pieces of the
bosca fadbh
for our mutual benefit. Our dealings are done.”

“Things have changed.” She lifted an elegant hand, arched an elegant brow, and flicked a long, elegant finger.

Elizabeth turned to find two men striding toward her. One tall, muscular and redheaded. The other average and unforgettable in most every way—aside from his cold, soulless eyes.

They were the two men who’d killed Ragnar, burned down her house, and tried to slap charmed iron cuffs on her.

She took a deep, measured breath in through her nose and out her mouth. Her first reaction was to dissolve and get the hell out of Dodge, leaving,
again
, all her belongings behind. There were other places in Piefferburg where she could hide.

But were these men friends or foes?

They’d basically saved her butt back at her house and they appeared to be allied with the Summer Queen, who was not Elizabeth’s ally but did want the same thing—the walls to remain standing.

But what about those cuffs?

Taking a step back, she made sure to keep a good distance between herself and the approaching men. If they made any move in her direction, she’d be out of here before they could blink.

“Elizabeth Cely Saintjohn,” said the poisonously innocuous man coming toward her with an outstretched hand, “so nice to finally meet you.”

She stepped away from him and put her hands behind her back. “And you are?”

A flicker of bare violence shot through his eyes, and he lowered his hand. “My name is Gideon P. Amberdoyal, archdirector of the Phaendir.”

Her mind went numb with shock.
Archdirector of the Phaendir?
“What does the P. stand for?”

He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. He motioned at the redhead beside him. “This is Liam Connall Deaglan Mag Aoidh, a free fae working to keep the walls erect in order to protect his wife from the Wild Hunt.” Gideon paused and gave her a small, oily grin. “You two have something in common, don’t you?”

“So, wait.” She held out a hand as if to slow the whirling in
her head. “The archdirector, a free fae, and the Summer Queen are all working together to make sure the walls don’t fall?”

“Ding, ding, ding. You’re a genius,” replied Gideon in a voice laden with sarcasm. “And guess how much I love to be here in Piefferburg with all the fae. Talking with them, touching them, offering to shake their fucking hands.”