Firebrand (12 page)

“I cut my lip somehow,” she lied.

“I think we should get out of here,” David replied pulling her toward the exit.

“What about Teezal?”

“Teezal had to go but she said she’d find us later.”

* * * * *

In silence, Amber and David walked from the shadows of the alleyway toward the busy city street. For the moment, it seemed, the only connection between them appeared to be David’s arm firmly around her shoulders.

She felt his hold on her tighten when a large cardboard box to their right teetered and then fell over with a dull thud. A sound like nails scraping concrete followed. David reacted quickly by angling his body so it was between Amber and the noise. She started to speak but he stopped her with a forefinger to his lips. They stood perfectly still, listening to the ensuing silence.

After a few agonizing moments, David spoke. “We’ll catch a cab to your place.” Eyes focused on the streetlights at the end of the tunnel of buildings surrounding them, he urged her forward with gentle but firm pressure on the small of her back.

Amber nodded and eyed him as she would a coiled cobra. The intensity of disbelief she heard in his voice when he found that she had been with Eric Sinclair in the club still traversed every ounce of her. It was something she had never heard before and never wanted to hear again.

He stopped a few feet from the end of the alley and spun her to face him. “What the hell do you think you were doing with Sinclair? You could have gotten yourself killed!”

She shrugged his hands away. “You don’t know that.” She crossed her arms over her chest and lowered her head. “I mean, you said it yourself, I’m not human. So who really knows?”

He took her by the shoulders and shook her once, hard. “Stop it, Amber. You have to remember that you can’t trust anyone. Least of all…” his voice dropped, its tone sounding like a man about to face a sworn enemy in combat, “him.”

She placed her hands on his forearms and moved them slowly to his shoulders. “What happened inside LiLu’s took me off guard as much as it did you. I mean, one minute I’m there with you, the next, I’m with Eric Sinclair.” She let go of him and put her fingertips on her forehead. “Then something happened to me. It was as if I wasn’t in control of my own body.” She lowered her eyes. “My blood seemed to pound in my veins in tune to the febrile beat of the music and, at that moment, I didn’t care who I was with.” She began shaking. “I don’t understand everything that’s happening to me.” A single tear trailed a silvery path down her cheek. “I’m scared, David,” she whispered. “I know I’m supposed to be this blended, all-powerful superhero who is supposed to save the world but I’m scared.” She raised her head to meet his gaze and bit down on her lip. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. Please. Tell me if you know.”

He looked into her eyes. The combination of vulnerability and torment he saw there seemed to be his undoing. He let out a deep sign and gathered her into his arms. “I wish I could,” he said, definite pain in his voice. “I can spend every evening with you, every moment until the time of the Triad. I can protect you, love you but I can’t tell you what you must do once we get to our destiny. To put it simply, no one knows.”

She blinked at him as her brain registered what he had said. “I thought it was all written down on an aging parchment or carved on stone in a cave somewhere.

“If it only was that easy,” he said sounding more apprehensive than ever. He pulled her back to him and kissed the top of her head before running his hand down her burnished hair and resting it on her shoulder. “It’s going to be a battle, Amber. Good versus evil. You versus them..” He rested his chin on her forehead. “And I’ll be there beside you. Never doubt it. If it be the will of the universe, my last breath will be for you.”

Amber pulled back, looked into his eyes and, for the first time, saw a foreboding that terrified her more than the task ahead. And at that moment she knew that no will but her own would guide her. She would carry out her destiny and save the worlds no matter what and she would do it for only one reason.

To save David.

Hidden behind dented, dirty gray metal trash cans, Gorash, king and master of the dominion of the trolls, watched Amber and David hurry toward the safety of the city street. For a split second, as they stood still in the dark alleyway, he had been tempted to use a large shard from the mass of broken bottles strewn on the ground to slash David’s throat and grab her. But catching his distorted reflection in what was left of the window next to him, he stopped, almost sickened by the sight.

No longer Eric Sinclair, he rose to only about three-quarters of his human height. In the muted moonlight his skin appeared pale gray-brown and rough in texture. The designer suit once fitting a toned, tapered body, now hung loosely over stooped shoulders and a potbelly. His entire head, except for his face, was covered in fur with hairs extending out like quills. His hands were large and so were his feet, forcing him to shed his shoes during the transformation.

He’s always been careful to stay far away from anyone and relegated himself to seclusion through the time of The Taking, careful to be certain he remained unseen. But tonight had been different. His blood had boiled. His rising hunger scattered his wits to the four winds, causing him to look for relief in the darkness. Restless, predatory, aroused, he prowled the night until he ended up at LiLu’s, not knowing why until he saw her. Then he knew.

He rubbed his groin as he watched her leave, his erection still not subsiding. He licked a drop of spittle that gathered in the corner of his thick-lipped mouth as he recalled the feel of her curvy, firm body against his.

Four hours. Four hours each night from midnight he endured the sting of The Taking. Four hours of misery to pay for twenty of pleasure in the human world. A price gladly paid.

But tonight had been different. His theory had proven correct. The small amount of her blood he ingested had somehow relieved the pain of the transformation and had delayed it for a time. A larger quantity might put off the miserable change. A constant quantity might even cure him.

He would take her. He would know which.

Beside him a large rat paused to sniff the night smells, either unaware or indifferent to the large creature looming over him. In an ungainly capture, Gorash grabbed the animal’s body in one hand and head in the other. A satisfied smile split his grotesque face as he imagined it was David’s neck snapping under the grip.

Tossing the lifeless body in a pile of garbage, the troll king hugged the shadows as he lumbered away. Desire and need laced through his body, intense sweeping shafts of agony that cried for release.

But neither would be satisfied soon. What he needed was of place of safety to await the return of the man he could not yet fully be.

Chapter Nine

It had been many years since Teezal had been to Everwood. She had almost forgotten how beautiful Ireland was. A sad smile crossed her face. It would not be a convivial homecoming. She was returning with grave news.

She stood and looked over the valley, flat and wide with the clear water of the Lough meandering through the bog and the water meadow near the hill. Here, next to a stone bridge connecting a dirt road that led to a long-deserted convent, the fairy ring rested in the rising ground of the north bank where the land is drained and dry.

She stepped into an almost imperceptible circle made of tiny white bellflowers, moss, mushroom croppings and rocks settled among the grass and dirt. As she did, a wavering mist appeared, swirling around her, shrinking her to a fraction of her human size. Her diaphanous wings unfurled and beat as fast as those of a hummingbird’s. Anyone hiking nearby, or tourists from nearby Glastonbury seeking the ruins of the Roman built Christian nunnery, would only notice a morning fog kissing the ground and what may have been a very colorful butterfly first fluttering in the air and then seeming to disappear with the waning mist.

Soon Teezal felt solid ground beneath her feet. She rolled her shoulders, her wings stilling and then moving smoothly against her back. At rest now, their hue shifted from colors of blue, like azure and cerulean, to nearly transparent, becoming almost invisible. She smiled. She was home.

Her sudden appearance in Everwood did not go unnoticed. Roswyn Burglow, one of the seven flower fairies, flew up to her and enclosed her in a chest-collapsing hug.

“Teezal! Teezal! You’re back!” the young fairy called out, swirling them both in a dizzying circle.

“
Halla
Roswyn, it’s good to see you as well.” Teezal said using the traditional fairy greeting.

“You’ve been gone so long, even in fairy time. I have so much to tell you.” The small fairy fluttered backward, words spilling from her mouth in rapid succession. “You won’t believe what happened. Elwil’s baby came, very cute. I went to the May dance, mother made me a gorgeous dress. It was pink with iridescent pearls and silver webbing. I can’t wait for you to see it and Miss Plum, the dream weaver, you know her, well she’s been seeing Hallack Cobwar can you imagine that?”

“Slow down. You do take my breath away.” Teezal replied. “We’ll have time to catch up on all those things but for now and most important, you’ve not mentioned Corin.”

Roswyn fluttered downward until the tip of her toes touched the mossy ground. “Corin Reedweb? I’d rather drink a petal-cup full of hemlock than kiss him.” The fairy girl pouted prettily and crossed her arms over her chest stubbornly.

“Indeed,” Teezal responded, smiling. For as long as she could remember, Roswyn never let a day go by where she didn’t mention the name of the young fairy lord she cherished. “Kissing? I didn’t say anything about kissing.” She tilted her head and a teasing tone layered her voice. “However, it would seem that something other than a polite hello has taken place since last I was here.”

Roswyn’s blush extended clear down to her bare feet. “Oh Teezal it’s just awful. I just can’t stop thinking about him. Everything that can possibly go wrong has. You have to help me, you just have to.” She fluttered in front of Teezal with her tiny hands in pleading supplication.

The honey-colored fairy laughed and placed a kiss on the young girl’s forehead. “I must have an audience with the Mage but I’ll tell you what, if you pick a cockleshell full of chickle-cherries for me I’ll stop by your kuttle as soon as I’m done and we’ll talk, how’s that?”

“For true? There’s a whole new growth over in the west patch. I’ll pick more than a cockleshell, I’ll pick a bluebell full, no, a rush basket full, you just wait and see.” The girl twirled, dipped, then righted herself and flew off, stopped mid-air and raced back, almost crashing into Teezal before planting a kiss on her cheek. “Ta-ra,” she said, her voice a song as she continued on her way leaving a sparkle-filled twisting trail in her wake.

Teezal watched the young fairy leave, the heaviness returning to her heart. “So young,” she whispered, “barely a blink from the time of the old ones.” She closed her eyes against the building sadness. “And so unaware of how little time may be left.”

* * * * *

Teezal stood in front of the ornately carved doors of the Mage’s castle. Opening slowly as if of their own accord, she walked through them, her translucent wings furling closed, disappearing as they melded with her rich brown skin.

Moving in a glide, her feet floating above the stone floor, she continued down the candlelit hallway. When she reached the doors to the great hall, they too, opened without prompting.

Inside, she could see Tolhram, High Mage of the realm of Everwood, sitting upon his throne of lapis and mother of pearl. His earth-tone leggings hugged the well-muscled thighs that belied his age. She watched the curl of the leather slipper on his right foot bounce in the air, as he tapped his foot as he often did when he was deep in thought. He looked up and saw her.

“Come,” he said, his usually authoritarian voice leveled low and quiet.

Teezal bowed and held her palms up a greeting of respect as she approached. She heard the rustle of his clothes when he stood but she didn’t look up, waiting instead for his consent.

“It is done then?”

Slowly she lowered her hands and raised her eyes. “She has the knowledge of her being,” Teezal replied. “She knows of her of her destiny.”

Suddenly he was beside her. “It must have been quite a shock to her.”

“It was handled.”

“She is ready to begin the ritual then?”

Teezal lowered her eyes. Her long dark lashes shadowing her cheeks. “I swear on the Old Ones, she will be.”

The Mage circled her. “You never could look at me when you twist the truth. What is it?”

“Trolls have taken Marcus Drake to the place of their origin. Amber refuses to continue until her father is rescued.”

“He is not her father,” Tolhram quickly reminded her. “The one who sired her is dead.”

“He is the only father she has known. The connection to him runs deep.”

“She was born to a higher purpose and must learn to discard emotional ties and human fragility.”

“Your granddaughter is a very strong young woman but coming to terms with her heritage, her powers and her fate has not easy for her. She clings to her human side. It’s all she knows.”

“Perhaps it was a mistake to wait this long to tell her of her bloodlines.” He clasped his hands behind his back and returned slowly to his throne.

Teezal waited until he sat before continuing. “It has saved her life.”

“I know,” he sighed. He glanced out toward the courtyard where fairies, pixies and sprites welcomed the morning, unaware of the upheaval that loomed. “But did it cost us ours?”

“The air is calm enough. Before I came here I talked with young Roswyn Burglow. She spoke of her paramour, young Corin and did not seem alarmed.”

The Made rose and walked to the archway that looked out upon his court. “The elders have worked hard to keep the calm but the signs are appearing and rumors abound. Rumors that will rapidly become truth. Corin will soon be pressed into joining the ranks to hone his archery skills in order to protect the borders during the turmoil that will come with the Triad. Roswyn will join those who gather feathers for arrows or soak wood to make bows.” He turned back to Teezal. “It will be a dark time for the fae should my granddaughter not take the path for which she was born.”

“Her human side is strong. Her devotion to her father is unwavering.”

“But what of her fae family? Her devotion must also extend to them. And what of her dark side? Does she burn with a troll’s heat during the time of dark passion?”

“She does not know them, my Liege.”

“Then she must. She has known the human world,” he tossed his hand toward the window, “now she must know the fae world and witness the dark world of the trolls in the Orb at the Dolmans. She must understand that all worlds have much to lose if the upheaval comes.”

Teezal’s mouth firmed and she pressed her lips together. Once again she lowered her eyes. “She understands as much as allowed in the short time we have had.”

His eyes darkened. “I sense there is something more, something you are reluctant to tell me. She is aware of the three swords of the Triad and the trilogy of her ancestry?” he asked.

“Amber knows of the Swords and their part in the ritual,” her voice rushed then quieted. “But I didn’t tell her that along with fae and human, the blood of the trolls runs in her veins. It is a heavy burden to bear. I was waiting for the right time.”

The Mage’s face hardened and darkened and his eyes mirrored the color of quicksilver. “She is the keeper of the Triad.” His voice boomed and shook the rafters of the high castle beams. “You, above all, should know what that means, what is at stake. You,” he pointed a long thin finger at her, “had no right to withhold the knowledge of all the bloodlines from her. Humans are unpredictable and the fae steeped in the ways of enchantment, two traits we know from ancient blendings that are not easily mixed and controlled. But in her we also have the vehemence of the troll. We do not know what path this tri-unification might take, especially in the time of provocation.”

There was nothing Teezal could say in her own defense. She had failed in her mission and she had failed her king. “I beg forgiveness my lord, I was remiss in my duties. I have allowed human thinking to cloud my ability to do my duty.” She straightened and looked him in the eye. “I will return and tell Amber everything. By day’s end she will have knowledge of her full lineage.”

The tall figure squared his shoulders and glared down at her. “Yes she will have full knowledge, but I will tell her. Go now and bring her to me.”

* * * * *

Amber leaned against the doorway of her bedroom. “I would know if there was a sword in my room. It isn’t here, David.”

“But it is,” he countered.

She watched him cross the room and reach toward the tapestry on the wall across from her bed. In fascination, she saw his fingers disappear into the wool fabric. When they reappeared, they were wrapped around the hilt of a sword.

Amber’s eyes widened. She stepped behind him. She put her hand on his right shoulder and leaned over to share his view of the extraordinary weapon in his hand. Gems of purple, red and green crusted the golden hilt. The silver blade was polished to a brilliance that could mesmerize.

“Incredible.” The word came out in a whisper.

“I told you it was here. Beautiful, isn’t it?” David ran his fingers along its length, studying it.

“So this is the key to my future,” she said, nearly breathless.

“One of them,” David replied, angling the blade so it sent reflected shafts of light into the air.

Amber could not tear her eyes away from it. “It’s magnificent. But how did it get in the tapestry and why didn’t I see it?”

“I coated it with the juice of the lemon grown in the ground of the three lands making it invisible to the eyes of the fae and the troll. Then I hung it in front of the tapestry a few weeks ago after retrieving it from its place of hiding in the Metropolitan Museum among the Celtic displays.”

“But I’m human. Why didn’t I see it.”

David shook his head. “Your tri-breeding prevented it. It manifests itself in different ways and we must be careful to neutralize these weaknesses when they appear.”

“How?”

“By counteracting with an opposing strength. For example, at the house of your father, your hatred clouded your judgment. When you find this happening again, you must draw on the gentle ways of the fae to counteract it.”

Amber nodded. “I think I understand.”

“You will have to consciously think about the antidote to the pattern, until it becomes as natural to you as the breath in your lungs. You must draw on your human and fae strengths and know which to use and when.”

“More to learn.”

“And I will help.”

She looked at the sword in his hand. Isn’t someone going to notice the sword is missing?”

“No one ever knew it was there.” David winked. “A little trick I learned from Teezal.”

“You’re saying no one
ever
saw it.”

“Only those trained to see beyond the three dimensions. It was safe there coated with the juice from lemons grown in the sacred ground.”

“You have more of this juice?”

“A little. We must be careful with it.”

He raised the sword and, when he moved, Amber could feel his muscles tense and smell the faint smell of his aftershave blend with the warmth rising on his skin. She lowered her hand. The last thing she needed was to feel his solid body beneath her palm. She’d made her choice and could not allow a fleeting moment of desire to distract her from had to be done. No matter how much she loved the distraction.

Purposely ignoring the way his hair curled behind his ears, she focused on the sword in his hand. “It has markings at the end.”

“Yes. Do you see this?” he asked pointed to the pommel. “Each family who protected this sword had its ancestral marking etched there.”

She saw a dragon, a crown, a cup and an arrow among the many symbols etched in the metal. “Which is yours?”

David grasped the sword at the top of the hilt with his right hand and pointed with his left to an area just below his palm. “There. See it? The Celtic Sign of the Sacred Three. It rests near the Celtic Cross etched into the sword by one of the first Guardians. The Cross is stamped precisely at the right point to rest upon the palm of the one holding the sword.” He angled the sword and showed her. Our clan believed that a cross in one’s hand during battle would bring protection and etched our sign close to it. All Guardians bear the mark. It appears three days after birth.”

“And you have this mark.”

“I do.”

“Show me.”

David set the sword down on the dresser and rolled up his left sleeve. He angled the underside of his left bicep to her. “Here, just above the inner elbow.”

Amber slipped her hand underneath his arm and inspected the perfect duplication of the etching on the sword. A circle with three arcs inside. She traced the edges with her fingertip. “I can barely feel it,” she said.