Courting Darkness (7 page)

The woman who was manning the stables gave us the once-over, then broke out in a smile. “Welcome, Otherworld Sisters. You have need of a cart?” Her voice was clipped, and I realized she wasn’t used to speaking English. She must have recently come out of the forests.

There were still enough wild places that some of the Fae remained relatively untouched by society, but that was dwindling and pretty soon I feared there would be a struggle between the FBHs and the Earthside Fae over territory.

Andy Gambit, tabloid reporter for the
Seattle Tattler
who did his best to make our lives a spectacle, was afraid of those of us from Otherworld, but the fact was, he’d better keep a watch in his own backyard first. We were far less of a threat than the Earthside Fae who had quietly absorbed the shock of deforestation and development for the past hundred and fifty years.

“Thank you.” I accepted the reins to the covered cart. It was a two-seater, with one horse to guide it. As Delilah and I settled ourselves inside, I realized that although the buggy would protect us from the majority of the snow, it wouldn’t do much against the cold. Delightful.

“Do you remember how to drive one of these things?” Delilah glanced at me, then at the horse. “It’s been a while.”

“Not that long.” I paused, testing the reins. Truthfully, it had been a good two years or so since I’d sat behind the reins of a buggy, but I’d spent a hell of a lot more time than that driving one when I lived in Otherworld. And, after one mistake of reaching for the gas pedal, the feel of the leather in my hands came back and I
tsked
to the horse, keeping a steady hold on the reins.

A thousand acres is a surprisingly large area when you’re cold, and snow is blowing in your face. I blinked against the flakes as they landed on my eyelashes, grateful for waterproof mascara, and guided the horse through the middle of the cobblestone street. The stones were covered with packed snow and ice, and more than once I was actually relieved we were in a buggy and not the car. The Triple Threat seemed averse to shoveling snow, and the horse was now plowing us through a good ten inches of the white stuff. Up here in the Cascade foothills, it snowed more often, and with more depth than in the lowlands or the sea-level cities.

By now, the only visibility came from the silver-dark sky and the lights shining to the sides in barrow houses, where the Earthside Fae—those who had been accepted into Talamh Lonrach Oll as actual inhabitants—lived.

The member rolls were far greater than the inhabitants.
So far.
What the government would think when they saw how many Fae there really were, was yet to be seen. Although FBHs had accepted—some more reluctantly than others—that they were not the only beings on the planet, I had a feeling they weren’t going to be comfortable when they knew the full extent of just how many Fae there really were in the world. Or vampires. Or Weres. Or Cryptos, for that matter. The fairy-tale stories had opened up and come to life. The monsters had come out from under the bed, and we were among them.

“Would you want to live here?” Delilah asked, gazing at the lights that shimmered by the sides of the road.

I gave her a faint smile. “I don’t think so. I doubt if they’d accept Smoky into their hearts . . . or even Morio. Trillian, maybe—even though he’s a Svartan and they’re actually part of the elven line. And Svartans and elves don’t mix well.”

“Svartans and Fae don’t mix well.” She blushed. “I’m sorry Menolly and I gave you such a hard time about him all these years. Now that we’ve gotten to really know him—”

“You mean, now that you’ve been forced to live with him?”

“That, too.” She ducked her head, grinning. “He’s really a pretty good guy. I still think he’s arrogant as hell, but that’s just his nature. He loves you, he dotes on you, he helps out with the household, and he adores Maggie.”

“Well, thank you for finally noticing.” I reached over and bopped her on the nose.

“Anyway, you were saying?”

“What? Oh, would I want to live here?” I let out a long sigh. “Don’t get me wrong—I think what Titania and Aeval are doing is a good thing. And it is beautiful. The magic sings to me. But it’s cold, Kitten. The magic leaves me cold and feeling alone. Like starlight—it’s brilliant, but it’s so far from anything you can touch or feel that it’s almost . . . empty.”

The horse’s quiet clipping of hooves on snow-covered cobblestones soothed my nerves as we wound our way through the maze of paths and trails. A lot of construction was going on, and it looked like houses and barrow mounds were springing up all over the place.

None of the houses were over a single story, though—and all were cottagelike in structure. No electricity lines crossed through the land, nor would they. I knew that Titania and Aeval had insisted on that—the power to fuel these homes would come from magic, and solar and geothermal energy. From the wind and from sun and from steam.

Eye catchers glimmered along the paths, marking each new street. It seemed odd to see the shimmering lights over here, Earthside, but I had a feeling that more than a little crossover was happening. Otherworld was borrowing some of Earthside’s technology, and the Earthside Fae were latching onto some of the wonders back in Otherworld. It rang odd, like the two worlds were reuniting, in their own way . . . roots long torn apart winding back together again.

With so many of the portals that connected the realms going rogue, and the veil separating Otherworld from Earthside tearing in places, I wondered how long it would be before everything imploded and the two worlds spiraled in on each other again.

When Otherworld had split off during the Great Divide, the yawning chasm in the astral plane had eventually created an unnatural tension that kept stretching, pulling at the edges of the veil. But the spirit seals had kept everything neat and tidy and divided. Until now.

“What do you think will happen if the worlds come back together again? From what Aeval has told me, it was a cataclysm when they split—earthquakes, volcanoes erupting, unnatural weather in the areas least hit by the ripping of the fabric of space and time.” I glanced over at Delilah. “I think I’m scared that it’s already happening, and if it’s inevitable, if the spirit seals fail, then what does the future hold for both of our worlds? There are so many more people now. Thousands could die.”

She pressed her lips together and stared at the window. “I don’t know,” she said after a moment. “We can speculate all we want and we won’t know if we come up with the real answer. I guess . . . we won’t know until it happens.
If
it happens. Earthside is already crowded . . . can you imagine the mess if all the people back home were dumped into this space? And what will happen to the landscape? I just can’t imagine it.”

I clucked and lightly pulled on the reins to slow the horse down. We were almost there. “You’re right, of course. How can we possibly envision what it would be like? We can guess, but too much thinking about it is going to drive me nuts. Anyway, here we are . . . the Court Barrows.”

The palace was beautiful, but less ostentatious than anything back in Otherworld. Nestled beneath a giant barrow mound, the palace held three courts—one for Aeval, one for Titania, and one for Morgaine. The grass over the mounds was rich and green under the snow, and the towering firs around the palace stood sentinel, watching over the land.

During the spring, the barrow mound would abound with flower gardens of all kinds, and huge, sweeping ferns, and at the center of each barrow—atop the central point—stood an oak tree. They were growing faster than any normal oak, fed by magic and the strength of Faerie.

As we pulled up close to the guards stationed in front of the Court of Darkness, I sucked in a deep breath. Within a week, I’d be pledged to this land, pledged to Aeval. And my father would forever disown me.

“I have no choice,” I whispered to the trailing flakes that lightly kissed my collar as I slipped out of the buggy. “The Moon Mother wills it . . . and I am her daughter.”

“What?” Delilah glanced over at me. “Camille, are you okay?”

I shivered, pulling my cape closer around me. “I don’t know. Things are changing for me, Kitten. I’m worried I won’t be up to the challenge.”

“Well, worry about that when it comes. Because if I can face my training as a Death Maiden, you can face it as a priestess. Even though it means you’re going to have to cozy up to our cousin Morgaine.”

And with a grin, she shot a snowball at me.

The snow hit me square in the face and broke me out of my reflection. I snorted, then dashed it away and headed for the entryway. She was right. We had work to do. Now. Chase was depending on us. And that was as close to wallowing in depression as I was going to let myself get.

“Come on, Kitten. Let’s go have tea with a Fae Queen.” I motioned to her and she fell in beside me as we entered the Court of the Three Queens.

The inner halls of the palace were earthy, reminding me of Queen Asteria’s palace, with tree roots winding their way through the walls and sparkling crystals jutting through the soil. The dirt was so compact and smoothed over that it looked like Venetian plaster, and the chambers were lit by a glimmering luminescence, a pale light that might have been green, might have been white, filled with sparkles that danced like electric synapses.

Members of the court—probably servants—quietly passed by, some carrying bowls of fruit or trays of bread, others carrying notebooks and clipboards. One, in an odd juxtaposition, rushed by, a short sword in one hand, a net-book in the other. I wondered just how they were powering it and if it had Wi-Fi. But everything all fit, somehow, this new emergence of the Earthside Fae into human society.

I motioned to one of the guards. “We need to speak with Queen Aeval.”

He raised his eyebrows, but kinked his finger and motioned for us to follow him. “I assume you don’t have an appointment?”

“No, but she’s going to want to hear what we have to say. I’m Camille D’Artigo and this is my sister Delilah. If you could announce us . . .”

We followed him down the hall, turned left, and entered a small chamber, where the smell of earth mingled with the scent of white roses and bayberry and wintergreen. A small potted tree sat in the corner, covered with miniature eye catchers that shimmered in pink, blue, green, and yellow.

A true Yule tree
, I thought, as magical as the origin of the tradition. We took our seats on an upholstered bench covered in a swirling paisley. A print of a Monet hung on the wall over our heads, and on the opposite wall, a tribal mask that looked dryadic in origin.

“Wait here,” the guard said, and disappeared through the door to the left. I stood up and took a closer look at the mask while waiting. The base was wood, with crystals and dried flowers adorning it. Beautiful, almost ephemeral in nature, but yet the energy was so grounded I could imagine the mask lasting a thousand years. My fingers itched and I realized it had been a good two or three years since I’d thought about the hobbies I’d left at home. Menolly was the singer of the family; Delilah had her stable of animals at home. I’d spent hours in the gardens—first by necessity and then out of love—pottering around with plants, communing with their spirits and the energy of the ground itself.

To be a Moon Witch meant you had to come to a connection with the Great Mother first—for the Earth and Moon were sisters and connected.

“I envy Iris,” I said, turning to Delilah. “I miss having the time to spend in the gardens, to walk through the forest and listen to the trees. I miss Otherworld, where the energy practically jumps off the branches and limbs. Here the forests are either unpredictable and dark, or gently asleep, waiting to wake up again.”

Delilah gave me a half smile. “We need to make more time to get out in the woods around our house. I go running a lot—I know you aren’t into that, but we could take a walk every day together. Maybe in the evenings, after Menolly wakes up, the three of us could just make it a habit to go for a stroll.”

The thought of a quiet walk down to Birchwater Pond sounded like heaven. “As long as we’re not dragged away to fight demons. I’m so tired, I think I’m going to fall asleep right here if they don’t come get us.”

“It’s eight thirty now,” Delilah said, glancing at her watch. “I’m still good, I can drive us home.”

I leaned against her shoulder, letting my eyes close. “I’m so tired,” I whispered. “The Northlands were so cold . . . and then having to immediately deal with the daemon and then Chase vanishing . . . I can barely keep my eyes open.” Inhaling slowly, I could feel sleep stealing up on me, but I started as the sound of the doorknob turning woke me up.

The guard nodded. “You can go in now. Aeval will see you.”

We headed through the door, not knowing what to expect. The Summer Solstice ritual where the land was officially dedicated had taken place in an outdoor venue, and none of the three of us had ever been inside any of the finished palaces. As I led Delilah into the throne room, I caught my breath.