Reluctant Adept: Book Three of A Clairvoyant's Complicated Life (29 page)

"No. Those come from the amhaín," Wade replied. "A draíocloch is less sophisticated and potentially more dangerous since the temporary gateway it creates is tied to a place. It doesn't dictate or control how many individuals use it to cross between worlds.
Ríutclochs
, on the other hand, are restricted to two people.
Years ago, they were how the sidhe communicated with their liaisons and emissaries, instead of resorting to a soulbond."

"So, this stone—once it's invoked—it creates a gateway between the two people?"

"Of sorts, yes. Between the
ríutcloch's
imprinted owner and its invoker."

I glanced at Alex. "And strigoi can't invoke it because …" I frowned. "Because their blood isn't wholly their own?"

Wade cocked his head, considering it, and then shrugged. "It's as plausible as anything else I've heard."

"Most people would say it's because we're dead," Alex said flatly.

I snorted at the absurdity. "You're not dead."

They weren't. Like therianthropy, vampirism was caused by a curse. When I was in high school, I'd done a fair amount of reading on both werewolves and strigoi. I'd never admit it out loud, but it's possible I'd been a tiny bit obsessed with a certain blond strigoi. So sue me.

Alex stared at me for one stunned moment and then burst out laughing.

His mirth went on long enough that I cast my mystified gaze to the others at the table. "What the hell's so funny?" I asked, but all I got in response was a series of inscrutable smiles and a frown from Kieran.

"Oh, Clotilde," Alex said. "I can see why you have such fierce admirers. You are so deliciously naïve."

Did this mean he honestly thought he was dead? If so, how did he explain his animation? Or his hair growth, his brain activity, his muscle building, and everything about him, for goodness sakes! I gaped as a myriad of perplexing questions swarmed through my mind like thirsty mosquitoes, until all I managed to force out was a frustrated, "Whatever," which made him crack up again.

"The amhaín wishes to know
when
, exactly, you last saw Caiside."

Wade's raised voice cut short Alex's laughter. In fact, Alex's expression turned pitiless so unnaturally fast that my arms broke out with goosebumps and I wondered whether his amusement had been genuine at all.

"He last enjoyed my domn's hospitality in May of 1858," he replied. "Before that time, not more than a few years elapsed between visits."

Wade assessed Alex for a moment and then issued an ambiguous grunt. "It's been many seasons since Caiside has returned home to
Thìr na Soréidh
—at least 150 Earth years. As the eldest son of House Ruiseal, his absence has been sorely felt. My lady believes he may have fallen prey to those who wish to elicit his progeny, or died at their hands."

At Alex's stiff silence, I frowned and peered at Wade. "I'm sorry … Those who want to do
what
?"

"Breed him," Alex clipped out. Though, with his jaw practically turned to granite, I was surprised the words came out at all.

"What do you mean 'breed?'" After receiving several raised eyebrows, I waved my hands in front of me to erase the question and sputtered, "I mean … Jeez.
Why
? Why would a woman do that?"

I heard Fisk mutter something that sounded snarky, but Wade shut him up before turning to me. "Even if you hadn't demonstrated your potential, there are those who would have taken you, regardless—for the same reason, Lire."

And then, with the horror spelled out for my stupidly naïve brain, it penetrated: Like Caiside, I was related to an adept, even if she hadn't come into her full power prior to her death.

"Are you—? You're saying … you think Caiside's been held hostage for the past century and a half—all the while, being bred like a champion racehorse?"

"Yes," Wade answered.

"It's not the first time one in Caiside's line has gone missing," Tíereachán commented.

Christ
. If this was true … it made King Faonaín look positively saintly. He hoped to claim me as his soulmate, not breed me like some prized heifer. At least, that's what I'd come to believe. Although, now that I thought about it, being soulbound did seem to imply a certain level of intimacy.

"Please tell me this is a crime in your world," I said, frowning at Wade and then Kieran. "This isn't standard practice … right? I mean … this is kidnapping and rape we're talking about."

I didn't like the haunted look on Kieran's face.

"It is categorically prohibited in
Thìr na Soréidh
," Wade said, his expression hard. "Violators are severely punished in accordance to our laws, but outside of my lady's borders …" He frowned, letting the statement trail off and then admitted, "I'm afraid, where humans are concerned, there are too few protections—an oversight my lady is taking great pains to amend. Fortunately, now that you are bound to her son, even if only by blood, our current laws provide you with some guardianship in the mean time."

"But not necessarily outside of her borders," I guessed.

Wade looked at Kim and issued a precise, "No."

She straightened, her nose flaring. "My king has expressly guaranteed Lire's safety from those who wish her harm. To imply otherwise is a grave insult."

Wade tipped his head. "I wish no disrespect, Emissary, of course. But over the seasons, my lady has received every indication that the individuals responsible for kidnapping adept descendants reside
outside
of her borders. Even after her numerous entreaties, King Faonaín has yet to call for an investigation into the suspected crimes, nor has he issued an edict increasing the penalties for such despicable acts. The fact remains, without the benefit of a soulbond, as a human, Lire has zero judicial protection in the king's realm. Under his laws, livestock is afforded more security than a human, isn't that so?"

"Not unlike your lady's, if I'm not mistaken," she replied sourly. "As to these purported crimes, if my king's sister has proof, I'm assured he'll be all ears, but until that time, he won't devote precious resources to what amounts to a wild goose chase."

"No, I'd think not," Tíereachán said placidly. "Especially when most of the suspicion centers on several of the king's most powerful supporters."

"What are you implying,
briódair
? That my king lacks the means to keep his vassals in line?" Kim asked, her tone scathing, which was out of character for the woman I'd come to know and like.

If the Silven term 'briódair
'
was an insult, Tíer remained stoic. "Nothing of the sort. I merely agree that there's little sense disrupting a hornet's nest without good cause." He examined his nails. "However, I'll make the observation that it's equally unwise to leave a nest untended, since those stinging pests might find cause to merge with another colony. Or … take on a new queen."

Kim's eyes blazed, confirming that her mate Brassal was unquestionably in charge. "When my king requires counsel from a demon slave who hasn't set foot in the Otherworld for over a millennium, I'll let you know, until that time I suggest you— "

With a clack of teeth, Kim abruptly shut her mouth.

Blinking rapidly, she daintily shifted in her chair and pursed her lips before finishing Brassal's admonishment. "Perhaps you might consider keeping your opinion to yourself."

Somehow, I didn't think Brassal would have chosen those words, a guess confirmed by Kieran's surreptitious smirk.

"It seems to me, proof of such a crime would be of great value to most everyone here," Alex observed.

"So it would," Wade said dryly. "Is this when you tell us you have the means to attain such proof? For a price, of course."

Alex met Wade's disapproving scowl with a patronizing smile. "Of course," he said, his grin flattening to something more grim. "Unfortunately, there's just one person in this room who has the means to pay. And it's not you, Liaison."

Instead, the oppressive weight of the domn's fierce obsidian gaze landed squarely on me.

Of course it did. With the way my life was going lately, why was I even remotely surprised?

Alex reached inside the collar of his shirt and pulled out a thick silver chain. Dangling from the lowest curve of that gleaming rope, beneath his ebony scaled fingers, was a delicately-wrought, two-inch pendant boasting an azure-blue cabochon. Its massive asterism glowed as if possessed of its own power source. I had no doubt even the famous Star of India paled in comparison to this dazzling gem.

"Whoa," I breathed.

"The domn has a proposition for you, Clotilde," Alex said, drawing my attention from the impressive jewel to his determined gaze. "Use the
ríutcloch
to reach Caiside. If he's alive, as the domn believes, bring him here to me. That's all he asks. Rescue him from his tormentors, give us proof of it, and the domn will employ his considerable power and efforts to locate and help your captured friends."

While the room erupted with the cacophony of raised voices, I reeled.

Of all the demands I'd expected to hear from the domn, rescuing Caiside hadn't been one of them. In fact, I thought use of the
ríutcloch
would be the
reward,
not the demand.

Holy crap.
Could this be the answer to my prayers?

Until now, I'd begun to worry that the sole way to guarantee my friends' safety was to negotiate with King Faonaín for his help. The power of the domn, while maybe not as inescapable or relentless as the Wild Hunt, wasn't something to discount. What's more, the domn's price that I rescue Caiside in return for my friends' safety wasn't as onerous as the demand the
king
would likely impose on me. Never mind that negotiating with the king was fraught with peril. I'd have to see him in person. And once I entered his domain, I wasn't entirely sure I'd be allowed to leave again.

Risk being bound to a megalomaniacal king for all eternity or rescue Caiside?

Quick, let me think!

I sighed. There had to be a catch. It couldn't be as easy as invoking the
ríutcloch
and waiting for Caiside to stroll through the resulting portal.

"You cannot be serious!" Kieran's rant broke into my fevered thoughts. "You honestly believe this is a good idea?"

"What I think is immaterial," Tíereachán replied. "Lire is capable of making her own decisions. She isn't an object to be possessed,
cousin
, not by you or anyone. She doesn't need, or want, your constant, suffocating protection."

At least
someone
believes in me
, I grumbled to myself.

When Red moved to stand on the table in front of me, paws on his hips in a deliberate show of support, I smiled at him.
Make that two someones
.

Ignoring the scowls and charged silence down at the other end of the table, I turned back to Alex. "What's your motivation in this? Why the interest in Caiside? If you want me to rescue him just so you can punish him for something he's done to the strigoi, you can forget it. We'll find another way to do this."

"Maybe you need to rethink who've you been associating with," Alex said caustically. "Caiside is a good man, a loyal sidhe. Is it so hard to believe that I simply want to see him released?"

I studied him closely, but his alien complexion made it difficult to read anything beyond the stony set of his features. "So, you're telling me that if I pull this off, and Caiside comes through the portal, the domn will ensure his safety? He'll be free to leave with Wade, to return to the amhaín's realm, if that's what he wants?"

"Yes."

I frowned. "I don't get it. If you're so concerned about Caiside's welfare, why wait until now to use the beacon? You could have done it years ago by finding a willing human to invoke it."
Or an unwilling one, for that matter
.

"When I accepted the beacon, I swore an oath." Alex removed the necklace and held it firmly within his grasp, the pendant dangling enticingly below his fist. "I can only allow an adept to invoke it."

"Then it isn't your right to withhold it for services rendered," Kieran declared.

Alex swung his callous gaze to the opposite end of the table. "Wrong. As this
ríutcloch's
sworn custodian, I may deploy it as I see fit. In fact, my oath doesn't require me to give it to the adept at all. But as it happens, over the years, Caiside has curried the domn's favor, a consideration the domn wishes to reward."

Although Alex seemed earnest, I couldn't shake the feeling that he hadn't told me everything. Of course, the sidhe were no different. I knew for a fact that they, too, had their own secrets, yet it hadn't stopped me from trusting them. Of course, sidhe, as a rule, didn't lie.

I jerked my chin at the pendant. "Have you ever given the
ríutcloch
to someone else? Someone you thought or hoped might be an adept?" If I accepted his deal, I'd need to touch it with my bare hands. I wanted to know what I was getting into.

"No. You're the first candidate to come along in all the years I've owned it."