changeling chronicles 03 - faerie realm (19 page)

“What did you say?”

“Nothing.” I didn’t know for sure if the shifters’ legend might be linked to the same talisman as the one which had gone missing. Maybe, maybe not. Either way, we needed answers.

I asked the Chief, “How would one go about creating a talisman?”

“You’re human. You don’t need to know.”

“Yeah, I do. I’m trying to work out what happened here.”

Not true—at least, not entirely. If it was possible for me to do the same—to bind my magic to a talisman, so I had a fighting chance against the killer…

“Creating a talisman involves taking a source already teeming with power and infusing it with new life,” said the Chief. “That’s why ancient trees are used. They have a store of magic one would never find in a world like this, which is comparatively new to magic.”

“So your staff…”

A flush lit his cheeks. “My staff has all the power I need.”

Translation: his staff wasn’t worth jack shit. Great.

“The person wielding the talisman I’m talking about is using it to kill shifters. Shifters on the verge of a change go through a transformation which generates energy. Would
that
be able to power a talisman?”

“To increase its power? Perhaps. It depends on the condition of the particular talisman. Some take energy from Summer, some from Winter.”

“Some from life,” I said, quietly. Life-drinker. The shifters died because someone was using their power to add to the talisman. But how many would need to die before the killer had all the power they needed?

“Life?” The Chief shook his head. “
Taking
a life is against the rules of the Seelie and Unseelie courts.”

“Taking a faerie life,” I said. “That’s what you mean, right? Would a human’s life count the same?”

He frowned. “Perhaps not. I’ve never—never encountered a true talisman up close.”

“Shit,” I said. “Well. That’s instructive. I’m pretty sure our killer’s taking shifter lives to add fuel to the talisman. Probably to create another energy surge and tear open the veil.” Of course killing humans didn’t contradict the laws of the Seelie
or
Unseelie courts. They could tear us to pieces as sport. But if the Lady was the killer, and a liar to boot, she didn’t care about Faerie’s laws.

The Chief’s already pale face went positively yellow. “No,” he croaked. “Impossible.”

“You said yourself it’s a possibility, right?”

“Nobody would dare,” he said. “Not in this realm, not if they saw what happened the last time. If what you say is true, only a pure Sidhe lord would even have the knowledge—and they would likely no longer belong to Seelie or Unseelie at all.”

“Which brings you to my theory,” I said. “The Lady of the Tree is the killer.”

The Chief’s washed-out green eyes sharpened. “No.”

“It fits the facts,” I said. “She hates humans. She handed human children over to Velkas because he promised her immortality. She’s a conniving bitch and thinks this world is a playground. If anyone’s capable of brutalising shifters to boost her own power, it’s her. She’s the first person who told me faeries in this realm aren’t immortal anymore.”

“You—you can’t possibly understand,” the Chief exploded, a scarlet tinge creeping up his neck. “The Lady might be powerful, but she was never a Sidhe.”

“But she’s ancient,” I said. “Everyone the faerie has targeted reported seeing a pretty Summer faerie with an impossible amount of power.
And
she’s the only faerie I’ve seen use magic lately.”

The culprit might be trying to frame her. But she hadn’t exactly acted like an innocent person. Not to mention, if she’d slipped into the Grey Vale and taken the talisman when the veil had been open… it fit with what she’d told me. Velkas had been the one to originally steal the blade, but she hadn’t been specific. I should have made her hand the vow over in writing. That’s what I got for being complacent around a faerie. Not that it made a difference. I’d promised her one favour, and that held whether she played word games or not.

“The Lady may be the most ancient, but she’s far from the only pure faerie in this realm,” said the Chief. “She’d kill you for accusing her.”

“She’s likely to kill me anyway,” I said. “I’m bound to investigate this case for her no matter what lies she tells. Which means her being the killer makes no sense, except—I don’t know. She asked me to find the talisman and bring it back to her. Clearly, if she’s going around killing people, she already has it herself. That, or a faerie who looks just like her is using the talisman to frame her.”
But she wanted me to go to Faerie. That’s where its power is strongest.

“Faeries cannot lie,” the Chief interjected.

“They can mislead,” said Vance, who’d watched the Chief’s reaction with detached calmness.

“Yeah, she did that once already. Nearly killed us.” I looked around the clearing, at the leafless trees and grey-brown undergrowth. “This place is dying, isn’t it? So’s your whole territory. The Lady of the Tree is at full power. It’s like she regained a few centuries’ worth of life. How’s
that
possible?”

The Chief shook his head slowly. “I’ve never heard of it before. No faeries have come back to this realm since the war…”

“Except Velkas,” I said. “And probably more. You can’t watch all of Faerie from here, can you?”

In fact, if he’d been stuck here most of his life, the Chief and the other half-bloods were as clueless as the rest of us humans. They even had their own laws here, more in line with ours than with the rules of the Seelie and Unseelie courts. Hell,
I’d
probably spent longer in Faerie than any half-blood in the city.

Jesus. Probably shouldn’t tell them that.

The Chief’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t presume to understand what doesn’t concern you, Ivy Lane.”

“She threatened to kill me if I didn’t fulfil the vow. I’d say it concerns me plenty.”

“Then you should never have made a promise to a faerie. If you were half as intelligent as you think you are, you’d have found a way around it.”

“A promise saved my life, you asshole,” I shot at him. “Want to know how I got my magic? It’s not a party trick. I took it from Lord Avakis because the condition of our duel was that I’d get to come back home if I won.”

His brows rose. “You won a Sidhe lord’s power through a
vow?”

“Because I killed him.” I stared him out. “I was a weak human, sixteen years old, trapped in Faerie. I poisoned Lord Avakis with iron and cut his throat with his own blade. Then the promise kicked in, and his magic transferred over to me. I have the full magic of a Sidhe lord, far more than you have, and I got it because a promise is more powerful even than a lord of Faerie.”

His mouth lay slightly open. “The magic should have killed you.”

“It didn’t. Could the Lady of the Tree have stolen magic in the same way? She’s no Sidhe, but she’s more powerful than I was before I had magic. In the Grey Vale, that’s how it works. You steal magic, you get to live. Take it Summer doesn’t work like that?”

“Stealing magic from another faerie shouldn’t be possible for a human,” said the Chief. “Stealing a
talisman
isn’t impossible, but handling a powerful source of magic is like handling an Invocation. You will be judged, and if the magic finds you unworthy, it will destroy you.”

I nodded slowly. “I got that part. If magic found
me
worthy, then it’s not too big a leap to assume the Lady strode into the Grey Vale, picked up Velkas’s blade, and his magic decided she was worthy to wield it. She might not be Sidhe, but she
is
Summer, and powerful.”

If not for the seriousness of the situation, I’d have laughed at the way the fight drained out of Chieftain Taive with every word I spoke. He stood firmly, but the way his hands gripped his staff suggested he was using it to keep himself upright. Or possibly holding himself back from hitting me over the head.

“Does the same happen when a child of a faerie inherits their magic?” I asked. “Do half-bloods have the exact same magic as their faerie parent?”

The Chief shook his head. “Magic is relative. The children of the Sidhe have strong magic, but it develops in a different way for each individual. It’s natural… unlike
stealing
it.”

“Nothing in the Grey Vale is natural,” I said. “I wanted to live, and got more than I bargained for. Come to think of it, in the Grey Vale, magic decays over time. Maybe that’s why she needed to kill shifters to boost it. Show me another faerie in town with as much power as she has. She’s gathering energy from dead shifters to power this talisman like a goddamned magical battery, and if you ask me, she’s stalling until she gets enough power to rip the veil open. Are you going to sit here and let her kill you, too?”

“I won’t be threatened in my own territory,” he snarled. “You just admitted you stole your magic from the place the true Sidhe send exiles. If ever you went to Faerie, you’d be executed as a common criminal.”

“Thanks for the heads-up,” I said. “I don’t plan on ever going to Faerie, but if I don’t stop her, we’ll have another invasion. What can beat a talisman?”

“Another talisman of equal or greater strength.”

“Don’t suppose you’ve got one of them lying around?” My heart sunk in my chest. I knew, somehow, where this was going. “Or a way back into Summer? You have relatives there?”

His gaze could have cut me like glass. “Half-bloods are not welcome in either Summer or Winter.”

Fuck me sideways.

“I won’t risk my people’s safety over a theory without proof, Ivy Lane,” said the Chief. “I have a territory to protect, and if you’re wrong, you’ll cost us the freedom we’ve fought for as long as we’ve lived in this realm.”

I stepped back, hands curling into fists more in helplessness than anger. Whether the Lady was the killer or not, her vow ensured I could never escape this.

A buzzing sounded. My phone? No. Vance’s.

“Vance!” Drake’s voice yelled down the phone. “The manor’s garden’s covered in thorns. They’re attacking everyone.”

I turned to him. “You didn’t leave the thorn at the manor, did you?”

Vance swore under his breath. “Yes. I put it in a warded area, and checked it was free from contamination. I tried to destroy it, but the dispeller didn’t work. I asked Drake to do so instead.”

My heart plunged. “Fuck. This might be how the faeries are getting around the iron wards.”

“What’s going on?” asked the Chief, looking totally bemused.

“You already said you didn’t want to be involved,” I said, already typing frantically into my own phone.
Isabel. There’s someone breaking through wards. Watch George, and if you see any faeries or thorns, get out and go to the nearest safe house.
Which, for Isabel, was the coven’s meeting place.

Normally, I’d say go to the manor. But no. The faeries had broken through, and if that wasn’t proof that the killer could wipe the floor with the mages…

“I’m ordering every mage to come to the manor,” said Vance.

“Don’t,” I said. “It might be a diversion. Your cousin… Isabel…”

“On it,” he said darkly. “I already sent guards to your road, and to the intersection with shifter territory. I’ll deal with the thorns myself.”

“Thorns?” said the Chief. “What in the name of the Sidhe—”

Ignoring him, Vance transported the pair of us away.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

 

The last thing I heard was the Chief yelling at Vance for using mage magic in half-blood territory. We landed back at the manor before he could finish his tirade.

An expanse of thorns swept across the lawns, creeping up the steps towards the paved area we stood on. Bursts of fire lit the air as Drake threw handfuls of flame at the plant, but the thorns grew, if anything, moving closer by the second. Several other mages had joined him, using their own abilities—fire and frost, lightning and wind, or if all else failed, hacking at the thorns with weapons. Long tendrils splayed into the air, whipping at anyone who came near.

Vance moved towards the mages, waved a hand and a section of thorns vanished. “We can’t forestall the problem. The thorns will take over a new area if I move them all.”

“Better a random field than here,” said Drake, brushing sweaty hair out of his eyes. “What the devil is this crap?”

“A faerie thorn,” I said, readying my sword.

Another swathe of thorns vanished at Vance’s hand. “This isn’t working. I’ll have to transport the whole lot away at once, and we can deal with them somewhere else.”

“Iron,” I said quickly. “If fire isn’t working, iron’s our only option left.”

“Iron doesn’t kill it!” shouted a tall mage wielding a heavy-looking sword. “This cursed stuff grows too fast.”

“The iron should be poisoning it,” I said. “Unless—crap. Someone must be controlling it from a distance.”

Our killer. Had to be.

I nodded to Vance. “I’ll go with you.”

A thorny tendril lashed out, yanking one of the mages into the air and tossing him into his neighbour. Panic erupted. Frost mages threw handfuls of ice, but their attacks evaporated with no damage to the thorns. Two fire mages joined Drake and hurled fireballs, which fizzled out before they made contact with the plant. A group of five mages stood in formation at a safe distance, making gestures that puzzled me at first until I saw pieces of the plant ripped away as though torn by an invisible sword. They were kinetics, and had combined their powers to create a hell of a combo attack.

But nothing seemed to be enough. Bursts of energy rebounded off the plant, which grew bigger with every passing second. The only mages who seemed to be making any headway were the ones who wielded iron weapons, either because their abilities weren’t strong enough or weren’t suited for combat.

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