Sirensong (14 page)

One of the creatures jumped over Phaedra’s flailing legs and landed directly in front of me. It bared bloody fangs, then swiped at me with razor-sharp claws, and there was nothing I could do to defend myself, not when the stirrup had me trapped.

Something thwipped through the air over my head, and the creature jerked away from me, falling over backward. I blinked in momentary confusion until I saw the black-feathered arrow sticking through its throat.

Another arrow sailed over my head, taking another creature in the throat. Then, there seemed to be a veritable storm of them, zipping through the air, each one finding its target.

“Stay down, Faeriewalker,” shouted a familiar voice.

I froze in my struggles to free myself from the stirrup and glanced over my shoulder to see if I’d really heard what I thought I’d heard.

On the road in front of me were a band of horsemen, all masked and armored, each one armed with a bow. Most of them were firing away, taking out the last of my attackers. But one sat silently on his massive black horse, and though I couldn’t see his eyes behind the camouflage of his terrifying horned mask, I knew he was watching me with predatory fascination.

How long had the Erlking and his Wild Hunt been following me? And should I be happy they had just saved my life, or terrified of whatever was going to happen next?

I managed to get my foot out of the stirrup while the Huntsmen finished off the rest of the creatures. I lost my shoe in the process, but I didn’t much feel like crawling closer to Phaedra to get it. Her body was streaked with bloody gashes. There was so much blood I could hardly believe she was still alive. However, her sides were heaving, so she was obviously breathing.

The Huntsmen stopped firing, and I both felt and heard the thud as the Erlking slid off his horse and hit the ground. He was not a small man, and his mask and armor made him even larger and more intimidating.

As usual, he was dressed entirely in black, except for the silver studs and spikes on his armor. He looked like a porcupine on steroids, and I wondered how he managed to ride his horse without gutting it. And let’s not even talk about the mask, with its huge silver antlers and grotesque fangs.

The Erlking grasped the edges of his mask and lifted it carefully off. Long, thick, blue-black hair slipped out from underneath. He was the only naturally dark-haired Fae I’d ever encountered. He hung his mask from a hook on his horse’s saddle, then turned to face me.

Every time I laid eyes on him, it was like a punch to the gut. He was probably the most frightening and dangerous person I had ever met, and he was also the most breathtakingly gorgeous. Even for a Fae, which is saying a lot. He was a bad boy to the nth degree, only there was nothing remotely boyish about him.

The Erlking smiled at me. It was a knowing smile that said he guessed why I was still sitting there on my butt gaping at him instead of climbing to my feet in a dignified and mature fashion. I willed myself not to blush as I forced myself to look away, pretending to search for my shoe even though I already knew where it was.

Climbing to my feet, I hopped over to Phaedra’s side, trying to avoid looking at her wounds as I gingerly picked up my sneaker and shoved my foot into it. I heard the clanking of his armor as the Erlking approached me, and I turned to face him, trying to look unintimidated. I doubt I succeeded.

“So, is it a lucky coincidence that you happened to be nearby?” I asked. Maybe I should have thanked him for saving my life, but as always with him, I thought it better to wait and see what he was up to first.

The smile turned into a grin. “What do you think, Faeriewalker?”

“I think you were following me,” I said. “And stop calling me Faeriewalker.” It shouldn’t matter to me whether he used my name or not, but somehow when he called me “Faeriewalker,” I felt more like he thought of me as a valuable piece of property than as a person.

His eyes twinkled with amusement as he made a little half-bow. “My apologies, Dana.”

Somehow, I didn’t think that was much better after all.

Beside me, Phaedra made a low, pained sound. The Erlking—his name was Arawn, but I had trouble thinking of him that way—turned to look at her. If I didn’t know better, I could have sworn his expression was one of sympathy. I couldn’t exactly say I was fond of Phaedra, but when I looked over and saw that she was conscious and suffering, there was a pang in my chest and tears burned my eyes.

“Why couldn’t you just have stayed with the others?” I asked her, wishing I’d thought to take some horseback riding lessons (in all that excess of time I’d had to prepare for this trip—ha!). Maybe then I’d have been able to guide her to safety.

“That’s a very good question,” the Erlking said grimly.

I turned to look at him again and saw that he’d drawn his sword. He met my eyes, his deep blue gaze making me feel weak and unsteady.

“Look away,” he told me.

The burning in my eyes intensified, and I blinked frantically, trying to keep the tears from falling. “You’re going to kill her,” I whispered.

He had no trouble hearing me. “She’s too badly hurt to save.”

I could see that with my own eyes. Some of the Fae specialized in healing magic, but I was certain the Erlking and his Wild Hunt weren’t among them. And maybe even the best of them couldn’t have saved Phaedra. When I looked at her more closely, I saw that her throat was torn almost completely open. I don’t know how she was even conscious, but the pain in her eyes was unbearable.

Swallowing hard, I shut my eyes and held my breath. I heard the Erlking’s sword slicing through the air, then heard the wet thunk of it plunging into flesh. My stomach heaved, and it was all I could do not to hurl. The air stank of blood, and of something rank and rotten. The latter I suspected came from the dead creatures.

“You can open your eyes now,” the Erlking said.

I didn’t want to, afraid of what I would see. But despite the fact that he was an ancient, cold-blooded killer, the Erlking was capable of imitating a decent human being every once in a while: when I cracked my eyes open, I saw that he’d covered as much of Phaedra’s body as he could with his black cape.

Sniffling like a baby, I dabbed surreptitiously at the corner of my eye, pretending I had some grit in it. Not that I think anyone was fooled for a moment.

It’s a sign of how badly overdosed on adrenaline I was that it wasn’t until then that I remembered the rest of the creatures, attacking my dad and my friends. I gasped, my heart jump-starting back into a full sprint.

“My dad!” I said. “And Ethan!” I turned away from the Erlking, meaning to start sprinting down the road back toward the battle.

Yeah, I know. Stupid. It wasn’t like I could do anything to help even if I got there in time, and thanks to our long gallop, the battle was probably over already anyway. But I acted on blind instinct, almost tripping over one of the dead monsters.

Of course, Arawn wasn’t about to let me go dashing off. His hand came down on my shoulder, his fingers closing on me like a vise.

“They survived,” he said as I tried to struggle out from his grip. “Your father is injured, but not seriously. Ethan and the rest are fine.”

I’d forgotten that the Erlking could communicate with Ethan over long distances, thanks to Ethan wearing his mark. Usually, I considered that a bad thing, but right now I was so grateful for it that I was almost dizzy with relief.

“You’re sure?” I asked.

“Positive. Bogles are no match for such an impressive collection of Knights and magic users.”

I glanced at one of the dead creatures. Bogles. Yet another Fae creature I’d never heard of. There were a lot of them. “What’s a Bogle? I mean—”

“They are Unseelie,” the Erlking interrupted, having correctly guessed my question. “They have a sort of primitive intelligence, but nowhere near that of the Sidhe. Or of humans, for that matter. And they are at least fifty miles outside their territory. Bogles don’t stray from their territory. Ever. Someone went to a great deal of trouble to get them here. And because they are closer to animals than to people, Titania cannot take offense over their trespassing.”

I swallowed hard. I knew it couldn’t be a coincidence that our party had been attacked. I’d thought for a moment that Prince Henry might have led us into enemy territory, but I immediately dismissed the notion. For one thing, it wasn’t
supposed
to be enemy territory. For another, I hoped he wasn’t so callous that he would risk so many of his own people on the off chance I or my dad might get killed in the battle.

“Why were you on your own?” the Erlking asked. “How did the Bogles manage to cut you from the herd? As it were.”

I gestured at Phaedra’s body. “She panicked and ran.” My throat tightened again as my mind forced an image of Phaedra’s pain-filled eyes on me. I hadn’t liked her, and she hadn’t liked me, and here I was practically bawling because she was dead.

The Erlking frowned and cocked his head. “Panicked? Really?”

I nodded, remembering the nervous sounds she’d started making the moment the first shout went up. “I wasn’t a good enough rider to control her.”

He shook his head. “It wasn’t your fault. A Fae horse shouldn’t have bolted. If she felt panicked, she should have run for safety, which in this case would have been anywhere but away from the herd.”

I gaped at him. “So what are you saying?”

“Someone tampered with her. Maybe cast a compulsion spell. One that prompted her to carry you off so you’d be more vulnerable.”

Dammit. That was so not what I wanted to hear. So much for my dad’s assurances that Titania wouldn’t have invited me to Court if she still wanted to kill me. I sure hoped this meant we were going to turn around and go home now. Maybe I could get back before my mom slid fully back into her old ways.

“I should be used to people trying to kill me by now,” I muttered under my breath.

Arawn smiled. “Indeed. You have made an impressive array of enemies.”

“My dad was so sure Titania wouldn’t break her word.”

“She wouldn’t. Not when you’re here under safe passage. That would be an unforgivable breach of etiquette. Even
I
honor the rules of Court etiquette.”

“I’m glad people would think she was rude if she killed me, but someone just tried, and she’s the logical suspect.”

“But she isn’t. Your father is right: she would not make an attempt on your life, nor would she condone someone else’s attempt, when you are traveling under her guarantee of safe passage.”

“I suppose it could be Mab,” I said, reluctant to give up my beef with Titania. If I could blame the attack on Titania, then surely my dad would agree that we had to go home. Of course, if we tried to go home, Henry might decide to arrest us after all.

“Also unlikely,” Arawn said. “Sending members of her Court into Seelie territory and then attacking someone under Titania’s protection would be an act of war.”

I gave him my most skeptical frown. “Right, and the Seelie and Unseelie Courts have never gone to war before. They’re just bestest buds.”

One corner of his lip twitched, but he didn’t quite break into a smile. “They have warred more times than I can count, and they will war again. But this is not how it would start. There would be a pattern of escalating tension before someone declared war. And there would be a formal declaration before battle began.”

“The Fae don’t do surprise attacks?”

He shook his head. “Not like this. In Faerie, war is much more formalized than it is in the mortal world. At least from what I know of the mortal world.”

“So if it isn’t Titania, and it isn’t Mab…”

“Then you have another enemy. One who is willing to risk the Queen’s wrath by defying protocol.”

My suspicions fell immediately on Henry. He obviously didn’t like me, if only because I was my father’s daughter. But I got stuck again on the fact that his own people were attacked. Yes, he might have arranged for Phaedra to panic and run, separating me from my defenders, but still …

“Let’s get you back to your father, shall we?” the Erlking suggested. “Ethan has assured him that you’re all right, but your father is strangely reluctant to trust you to my care.”

I rolled my eyes. “Gee, I wonder why.”

The Erlking laughed and beckoned to his horse, which came to him with evident eagerness. Of course, he was an immortal hunter, and I imagined horsemanship came with the territory. He climbed easily into the saddle, then held out a hand for me.

I felt the blood drain from my face. It hadn’t occurred to me that he meant for me to get up on that horse with him. For one thing, the beast was monstrously huge, way more intimidating than Phaedra could ever have been. Not to mention that he was heavily armored, to make him even more huge. And then, there were all those spikes on the Erlking’s armor.

“I think I’d rather walk,” I said, although I doubted Arawn would give me a choice. It wasn’t like I could do anything about it if he tried to carry me off.

“I won’t hurt you,” he assured me, and in the blink of an eye, his armor disappeared, replaced by the black leather biker gear he’d worn in Avalon.

Wow. The ultimate quick change. Kimber would just die of jealousy if she knew he could do that.

I glanced around at the other Huntsmen. None of them had dismounted while Arawn and I talked. They just waited there, silent and watchful.

Of
course
they were silent. The members of the Wild Hunt never spoke. I’d once worried that meant he’d cut their tongues out, but Ethan told me it was the result of a spell.

I couldn’t tell the Huntsmen apart, not behind all that armor and those masks. The Erlking made it very difficult for anyone to see his Huntsmen as individuals.

“Is Connor here?” I asked quietly. “I’d rather ride with him.” Not that I knew Connor even vaguely. But he was my brother, and though it was probably illogical of me, I knew I’d feel safer with him.