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Authors: S. Ravynheart,S.A. Archer

BOOK: Remnants of Magic
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Her fingertips departed from his mouth, her gaze falling upon his lips in their stead. She moved closer even as his hand cradled her low back. “And as for the final item of our agreement, if you protect her from them, she will lead you to the Unseelie.”

Chapter Three

“I am far too Seelie to depart from a negotiation without disclosure, in full, of the terms to which I am agreeing.” Even as Lugh embraced Selena, as she wished him to, he wasn’t in the least beguiled by her attempts to distract him. Although the vampire occupied his arms, Lugh’s keen attention returned to the human. “Know you the whereabouts of those Sidhe called the earthborns?”

The woman blinked at him, as if she’d not expected him to speak to her regarding this matter. After a moment’s hesitation, she admitted, “I know where they are.” Those dark, untrusting eyes flicked from him to Selena and back again. “But I won’t tell you if you plan to hurt them. Or if you’ll betray them to Selena or anyone else who’d hunt them.”

“Of this, you can be assured. I am not their Champion for naught.” Lugh straightened, partially dislodging the vampire from where she lounged against him, ready to put her aside if needs be. “What is this payment you must extract, of which Selena spoke?”

The woman licked her lips and then crossed her arms protectively. Her mistrust pinned him. “I’ve been enchanted.” An Unseelie term for humans who had been Touched. The Seelie would have called such a one as she ‘captivated.’ After London confessed her condition, she paused to gauge his reaction. When he gave her none, other than his continued attention, she proceeded, “The one who first Touched me was killed. I need another Sidhe to take me on.”

“Take you on?” he repeated, his tone asking for clarification.

“To hire me on a permanent basis in exchange for the Touch when I need it.” From the tension on her face and in the closed manner in which she clung to herself, the woman revealed much more than she likely realized. Knowing the Unseelie as he did, it was not difficult to deduce.

With gentle grace, Lugh disentangled himself from the vampire. She resisted him not, just watched him with rapt attention. He made no sign that he noticed, only fixed his attention upon the human. His voice softened, murmuring as if to only her, “You were ill-treated?”

The woman, very much shorter than he, backed away a half step at his question as if he threatened her, though he made no such move. Everything about her revealed the truth, including her reluctance to admit abuse. Even now, fear shone in her eyes, as though she expected that he might strike her.

Lugh raised a hand slowly, showing her that it bore no weapon nor was it intended for violence. He held it in a softly curved shape, not flattened to slap nor clenched to strike. As he would have approached a new steed, he eased his hand closer to her face, testing to see if she might flinch or accept. He could tell that even holding herself still for him challenged her. He saw it in her tremble and heard it in the quickening of her breath. With as delicate a caress as he could achieve, Lugh cupped her cheek. Mingled in the barest of Touch that he granted her, Lugh showed her kindness: the majesty of the Sidhe, the beauty of the fey, the wonderment of magic, the love one has for the simpler beings that desire nothing more than to be loved and treated with kind acceptance, for which they granted a fierce loyalty.

When she leaned her cheek into his palm, he knew she’d surrendered her resistance. Guided by his lightest encouragement, her face upturned toward him. Lugh placed a chaste kiss upon her lips. Her mouth softened to his, and he could have taken liberties with her if he desired them, and she would not have resisted. Rather, he lingered in that feathered kiss as he Touched her, feeling at once both her need and her lack of it. The woman had been Touched, this much was true. The Touch burned a void into humans, making them an empty vessel inside that forever longed for fulfillment. But this woman had been filled with Sidhe magic and very recently. Lugh need not give her but the slimmest Touch to top her vessel to the brim once more. He loathed to waste even the scant bit of magic he’d granted her, but for the location of other Sidhe, he’d have paid a greater price.

Lugh withdrew from the kiss only far enough to gaze into her eyes. The heat of her breath, coming in hard gasps, brushed sweetly over his face. His palm still cradled her face, though he no longer Touched her with his magic. “Now, you shall take me to the Sidhe.” A simple instruction to test her compliance.

With a tiny nod of her head, she whispered, “Yes.”

His smile was so soft as to only touch the corners of his mouth. Lugh murmured to her, “If you are loyal, if you are truthful with me in all things, if you are willing to bear my secrets to your grave, then shall I consider becoming your patron. This is no light thing, not for you and not for me. You must prove yourself before I grant such a commitment.” The pad of his thumb brushed tenderly over her cheek, petting her, soothing her, luring her to entrust him.

Lugh glanced back over his shoulder at Selena, for accepting the human as his servant served more than one purpose. “I shall accept your charge as my companion, as long as she remains faithful to me,” he stipulated, “and provide her with what protection I am able.” Although he remained somewhat dubious as to what benefits this human could offer him beyond the location of the Unseelie. Like as not, the vampire meant the woman to be nothing but a proxy to spy on him and report his movements back to her mistress, but then knowing that meant he could use her to his advantage when next he must negotiate with the vampire. If he guided and indoctrinated her properly, London’s loyalty would swiftly turn to him, heart and soul. And if nothing else, he could always task her with the menial errands suitable to what skills she possessed. Without Willem, or another lesser fey, to fetch and carry for him, there was clothing that needed tending to and food to be procured and other such domestic concerns.

“Good.” Selena gave him a truly brilliant smile that seemed very genuine. She finger combed his hair, grooming him so that his ears were hidden, yet another uniquely feminine sign that she’d truly taken to him and the concern for his wellbeing. “Then if I learn anything that might be worth your blood in trade, I shall contact you through London.”

“I have no doubt that you will.” He offered a rueful smile and then collected the axe once more from the vanity. When the human didn’t precede Lugh from the room, he held open the door with a courtly gesture and a gracious bow, which altogether seemed to startle her. “Shall we away, my lady?” The woman recovered quickly and departed with a final backward glance to the vampire, who grinned at her in a fashion that was quite playful and waggled her fingers in a jesting wave goodbye.

Chapter Four

As ever, the autos the humans used for conveyance were entirely inadequate to accommodate the generous length of Lugh’s legs. The journey from Dublin to Kilkenny lasted a shade longer than an hour, and every moment of it was a cramped and oil-scented annoyance. Even with the window lowered and the seat adjusted back to the farthest setting, Lugh contemplated kicking open the door and flinging himself from the horrid contraption. If not for the urgency of his quest, he’d have shunned the experience and acquired a hearty and well-trained horse. Better yet, to succeed in his mission and regain the unfettered use of teleportation. One did not appreciate the ease of such a magic until denied it.

The human called London mercifully hadn’t jabbered away incessantly, as Willem would have done, had the Scribe been toiling with the human magicraft involved in the operation of the contraption. Lugh had almost come to believe that chanting curses was a necessary element in activating the auto’s enchantments. Perhaps forgoing with the casting of words of power came with greater levels of experience. Lugh cared not enough to inquire. It was sufficient to know that London was proficient with the magicraft involved.

Once they began navigating the crisscrossed lanes of Kilkenny, Lugh made mental notes of the landmarks that they passed, should he find himself in need of returning to this haven of the earthborns. That is, if they hadn’t taken up stakes and moved on to a safer and less crowded venue. Which they had not, he gathered, when London abruptly halted the vehicle. A strangled gasp tore from her throat. She made a frantic gesture, shoving the wand jammed between the foremost seats into a new position and catapulting the contraption backward. “Stop!” Lugh ordered her, and the human complied at his command. “Be still,” he instructed, and then freed himself from the restraints that she’d insisted he wear while she worked her spells.

Lugh extracted himself from the auto and stretched to the fullness of his height. At the same moment the dread had struck London, Lugh had felt it as well. The terror stabbed into his soul like nothing else in existence. Only one creature cast such an enchantment. Searching the shadowed eaves at the tops of the buildings, he set his eyes to unfocus. The Glamour of the sluagh manifested in an unconventional manner that furthered their nightmare reputation. One did not see a Glamoured sluagh when looking directly upon it. Only by shifting the eyes slightly to the side, so the sluagh was seen indirectly, did they shimmer into view. The effect was ghostly, to see only when not truly looking. It was thusly that he caught the shadowed shifting of the creature perched inside a darkened alcove in a building some hundred feet farther down the lane.

The sluagh, with its acute hearing, most certainly heard even the beat of his heart from this distance. Not since Rhiannon visited him with her sluagh pets accompanying her had Lugh seen one of the beasts. They clung to the darkest of the Unseelie Sidhe, and those they claimed became known as the Wild Hunt. Not but a few weeks ago had Willem admitted to Lugh that Rhiannon hadn’t been in the Mounds when it Collapsed. Could she, whom he cherished above almost all other Sidhe, have come to such a place? The scant hope tormented his calm even more desperately than the daggers of dread that laced the sluagh song.

At this distance, the sluagh troubled him not with its threats. Only when the auto had breached the perimeter of its territory had it threatened them with its scream. And then most likely it had been the human that disturbed it. Even still, Lugh approached no closer. Speaking in the blended Gaelic and elfin dialects the sluagh used, Lugh spoke Rhiannon’s name as the sluagh knew her. “
Shadow on the moon. Sidhe magic. Becomes the night. Loves her.
” Thus was the manner of sluagh naming conventions, which was to categorize individuals. ‘Shadow on the moon’ identified Rhiannon specifically, as her aspect of magic was the moon. All Sidhe acquired the label ‘Sidhe magic,’ but only the Unseelie with particularly dark magic were tagged with ‘becomes the night.’ ‘Loves her’ meant that the dark Unseelie was claimed by the sluagh as a member of the Wild Hunt, and could command the sluagh with her will.

Breathlessly, Lugh waited as the sluagh considered him. Even with the indirect way he watched the beast, he could see how it tilted its head and considered his inquiry. At last it hissed its reply, “
Pretty darkling. Sidhe magic. Becomes the night. Loves her.

Not Rhiannon then, but a ‘darkling.’ A young Sidhe, perhaps. One of the earthborns London had spoken of. If the child commanded sluagh, then they were not so unprotected as he initially feared. Lugh glanced back at London.

She’d stepped out of the auto, but remained beside it with the door open, as if prepared to dive inside at the least provocation. As if steel and glass could shield her from the sluagh when the rage took them.

“You mentioned not the sluagh.” He said this without accusation, though he might have conjured that if she withheld such from him knowingly.

“This didn’t happen last time.” She covered her heart with her hand. “Maybe we should just get away from here. Fast.”

Such was the effect of sluagh song, and why they served as powerful deterrents to invasion. Even more so when they attacked, as few could survive long against those teeth and claws. Although the sluagh rarely did so without direction from one of the Wild Hunt, unless the nest were in peril.

Lugh risked another step forward. If needs be, he would wrestle through the enchantments and fight off the sluagh beast barehanded, but he could not turn back now. Not when he hadn’t seen a single living Sidhe since the Collapse.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Seelie.”

Lugh jerked around, searching for the speaker whom he’d not seen so near him just the moment before. A Glamour shimmered in the shadow of a doorway. It vanished like mist torn upon a breeze, leaving behind a single, unarmed wood elf. The man was lean and several inches shorter than Lugh. Although Lugh knew the elf not, London gasped, “Kev?”

The wood elf ignored her, approaching Lugh with something akin to disbelief burning in his eyes. “You are Seelie Sidhe, are you not?”

“I am most assuredly,” Lugh informed him.

A brilliant smile lit upon the elf’s face and he launched himself at Lugh, embracing him like a lost brother. “Thank the All-Mother! We feared not even one Seelie made it out of the Mounds! Blessed Danu be praised!” The elf clapped his hands against Lugh’s back with joy as he could not contain.

Lugh returned the embrace, laughing with the same joy as that which bubbled over within the wood elf. “So it is true then? There are Sidhe here? Children, even? To imagine such a thing, Sidhe youths. I feared it was nothing but a ploy. Take me to them.”

“Before you go charging in to see the Unseelie, there are some things you should know about them.” The wood elf cast a distrusting glare at London. “And about your companion, if you’ll have it.”

“Lugh,” The plea in London’s whimper was unmistakable.

The wood elf blocked her from Lugh, intentionally positioning himself to exclude her. The grip of his hand upon Lugh’s arm was a desperate cry for attention in its own right. “We should speak in private and away from here. By your leave, my lord.”

He would have his answers about the Sidhe before any other concern. Forestalling the elf, Lugh fetched the axe from the auto.

Even as he returned to London, a shine of tears glazed her eyes. Such fear of abandonment. Conditioning her to trust him after such poor training as she’d thus far received would require a devotion of time, and he could spare little for it just now. More so than he usually would have lavished this early in her indoctrination, Lugh cooed over her with such affection as he could conjure. “Be not afraid. I shall be safe and shall return as soon as I am able.” He caressed her cheek, as he would a child or a pet. “Do you trust me?”

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