Lux, p.9
Lux, page 9
The witch added, “Besides which, I’ve found other ways in other worlds to magnify that power.” She drew out a piece of what looked like crystal from her pocket; it was limned in an orange glow. “Speaking of which.” Her eyes roved over Jess. “Are you well enough to take over the veiling, Silva?”
“I actually prefer Jess,” she replied, but Jess nodded her agreement. She felt for the death dust that she’d summoned so easily in La Alba. Despite the modern interior of the house, she felt the layers of earth beneath her answering her call and drew it up as easily as roots would water in rain-drenched soil.
As Jess felt the whisper of her death dust settling over all of them, she nodded again to the witch.
Erika leaned forwards, the light from the crystal diminishing until it went out completely. So, the crystal had been the means of magnifying Erika’s power to keep them veiled. The relief in not having to use that magic was visible in the way she slumped back on the sofa.
Jess’s gaze wound to the door, wondering where Matteo was. Had her dad woken up yet? Maybe now that she’d veiled them again, she could go…
Erika interrupted Jess’s train of thought though. “So, Jess, will you share with me how your and Alba’s restoration came about?” The witch’s gaze glimmered with undisguised interest.
Jess knew that Matteo would come get her if her dad’s condition worsened. Quashing her restlessness, she decided to share what she knew as quickly as she could. If such knowledge could help other worlds, it was right to share it. “Firstly, it came about through my heritage,” she said. “I’m born of both shifter clans.”
“The divided’s blood,” Erika said.
Jess nodded. She knew from Sunny that when Erika had been on Earth hundreds of years ago, Sunny had interpreted the Eventide prophecy as the Triodians had: the sacrifice of the divided’s blood to the Between would unify the courts, covens, and clans, and restore Alba and Silva. He’d admitted to Jess that he’d plotted a union between Erika and an Enodian mage, Inis, believing that the sacrifice of their child would fulfill the prophecy.
Questions buzzed around Jess’s head at Erika’s interjection. Had the witch known Sunny’s intention? Jess couldn’t help but think that here was another woman who knew what it was like to love an Alban heir, who both loved and longed to kill a part of you. Sunny had said she and he had been together for a decade. How had Erika managed it?
Jess quelled her own curiosity and continued her explanation. “When I entered the para world last year, it set off a series of events. Perhaps none more important than me giving Rune, an Alban heir, my blood.
“Rune?” Erika said, confusion creasing her brow. “I thought that…” Her gaze wavered to Sunny.
There was a sincerity in her expression that made her look much younger. Her mistaken supposition hit Jess. Erika thought that Sunny had become Alba. That Jess and he were together.
Sunny’s voice sounded hoarse. “Rune, another vamp made after you left Earth, is the one whose feeling was restored by Jess’s blood. He now holds Alba’s entire consciousness.”
Erika’s eyes widened with shock.
The air was charged with unspoken words. Surely, Sunny would tell Erika what he’d told them all in the Silvan Mountains? That he believed Erika’s blood hundreds of years ago had restored his feeling. That he had loved her. That seeing his greatest fear in the fetch—her death—showed that.
Jess had the urge to pull Astra off the couch and slink out the room, but just as she moved, Erika released a laugh and suddenly got much chattier.
“Anyone want some cran?” The witch withdrew a bag from the fur-lined pocket of her jerkin. Both her jerkin and trousers were pale and made of a soft-looking material like suede. The odor of fish flooded the room as she untied the bag.
Astra wrinkled her nose. “What’s cran?”
“Dried shrimp,” Erika said, popping a piece in her mouth.
Jess, ordinarily a connoisseur of dried meat products, didn’t want it near her, let alone in her mouth. The expression on Astra’s face suggested she wasn’t enamored either.
“It’s small and high in protein. I couldn’t carry much, but this kept me going while world walking the last two weeks,” Erika elaborated.
At the sight of Erika pulling out her own refreshments, Sunny took a break from awkwardly staring at her long enough to fill bowls of chips and bring a bottle of wine from the kitchen.
Or maybe he’s just trying to escape the cran.
Both Erika and Astra readily accepted a glass of wine when Sunny returned. Jess eyed Astra a little concernedly as she noticed her drinking quickly.
“Jess,” Erika said, “why is your energy so Earthen then, and how have you come to wield energy from the dead? As far as legend has it, isn’t Silva the goddess of the Heights?”
Jess fought back an eyeroll. Maybe she should record herself. That way she wouldn’t need to keep explaining how their restoration had come about. “When Alba was fractured,” Jess explained, “he became the first vampire, leached of life, while I had time to bury my seed magic in the two shifter twins I created before I fractured. Our shadow selves—the Umbran inner parts of us—were thrown back into the Shadowlands for millennia. Rune’s was the fetch that appeared in the mists on the White Peak, while mine was the Sidhe. She was trapped in the Depths, cut off from the rest of my magic on Earth, so she faded and was dying for centuries. When I joined with her recently, she passed on.” Her voice thickened on the last two words. Even though she’d talked about it more frequently of late, not to mention in front of a crowd of thousands, the words still hurt.
“Which is how you came to have this connection to the dead and the Between,” Erika surmised, understanding in her eyes as they flicked over her.
Jess nodded.
“Huh,” Erika said, her expression thoughtful. “I don’t know what I was expecting when I set out to find out how Umbra’s gods had come back from the brink of destruction.” She took a gulp of wine. The witch was doing a good job at keeping pace with Astra. “But I can safely say it’s not the clear-cut picture I expected.”
Jess huffed a laugh, realizing for one thing the witch had clearly thought that it was Sunny, her ex-lover, who had become Alba, and was still likely reeling from the discovery that he wasn’t attached to Silva in any way. Jess felt as if she could definitely relate to the witch’s rollercoaster of a journey. Especially with how she was feeling about her own current love life.
But Jess merely commented, “You’re telling me.” Her gaze wound to Astra, tempted to remind her it wasn’t juice she was drinking.
But Erika asked, “Pray, how did an Enodian mage come to have a lock of your hair?”
Jess felt like the biggest idiot ever at the question. A flush stained her cheeks. Thoughts of how different things had been when she’d first met Theo flipped through her head. No, not really, she mused. He’d just concealed his intent well. And Jess had been desperate to find a way out. No matter the cost. To think that despite all her new godlike powers, that mistake could have cost her her life and those of all her friends. Jess admitted, “I gave it to him.”
To her surprise, Erika didn’t look judgemental, only thoughtful. “I burned it before we portaled out. I once gifted a similar token to an Enodian mage. I truly believed that I could overcome the divide between our people. But I learned that that breach between our covens wasn’t something I could undo myself, which is why I went looking for answers elsewhere.”
Jess reckoned Erika wouldn’t have made light of her foolishness quite as readily if she’d still been under the mistake of thinking Sunny was Alba. And thus, Sunny and Jess an item.
Erika drew out a flask from another pocket. Uncapping the flask, she said, “I think tonight calls for something stronger.” She offered it to Sunny first.
“What is it?” he asked.
“Ligue, harvested from Kemdo’s underwater forests. It’s… potent. One sip’s enough,” Erika told him.
“Is that where you were?” Sunny asked, accepting the flask.
“Kemdo was the world I was in when I stopped being a vamp,” she replied.
From the meaning in Sunny’s tone and eyes, he hadn’t just been asking where she’d been recently. But he took a sip and grimaced, his eyes watering slightly as he passed it to Erika, who offered it over the coffee table to Jess.
She shook her head. “No thanks, what with maintaining the death dust veil,” she explained, feeling very much like the designated driver, and that somehow the discussion that had started was swiftly descending into some sort of party.
Astra had no such qualms. Grinning, she took a sip. “By the Depths, that’s delicious.”
Erika leaned forward. “One–”
But Astra had already taken another gulp. The fae passed the flask back to the now sheepishly smiling witch.
“And I call it un-vamped,” Astra shared. She relaxed into the sofa, her wings shifting around her, too, draping over Jess. A musky sweetness wafted from Astra, and Jess examined her friend’s now dilated pupils.
Oh hells, this is so gonna be like a bacae berry night.
Finally, a heavy step had Jess turning around and meeting Matteo’s stare. “How is he?” she asked quickly.
“Still asleep. Piera’s staying with him. Thought I’d check on what… He trailed off and grimaced. “Is that shrimp?”
The warmth of the room had brought out the odor of the cran to a pungent degree.
“Good nose, my friend.” Erika laughed. “It’s cran, want some?”
“It’s from a world called Kemdo,” Astra added, “where Erika was when she was un-vamped.”
“De-vamped,” Matteo countered, the corner of his mouth curling, telling Jess he’d overheard Astra’s earlier comment.
“Uh-uh, too much like de-fanged,” Astra retorted.
“Well, they were, and then some,” he said.
Astra snorted. “Fair play.”
Despite all that had happened tonight, Jess’s mood felt buoyed up as she listened to her friends bantering.
The witch whose gaze was taking in Matteo with interest, then Astra, arcing to Sunny, shrugged. “It’s not every night you’re back in your home world for the first time in five hundred years.” Then, like Astra had, she took another gulp of ligue. “Two rival fae, two rival shifters, and a pair of ex-vamps. I think we’re much farther along the road to that mythical unification than we ever got, Sunny.”
Her gaze dilated, too, the same languor affecting her limbs as Astra.
Sunny frowned, looking like he very much wanted to say more, but seemed to realize that any meaningful conversation with Erika tonight was off the table.
Astra piped up. “Where’s Ski?”
“He’s outside on guard,” Matteo answered.
“Awww, Ski. He’s too good. I’m gonna go kiss him and tell him I’m glad he’s not gone.”
A pang struck Jess’s chest, knowing all too well what sort of waking nightmare Astra had been subjected to tonight in the catacombs, too, with that deceptively simple word, “gone.” No wonder the wine and ligue had gone down a treat. Jess knew her friend wasn’t the best at dealing with her emotions. Instead, Astra had tried to use the alcohol to numb whatever she’d experienced. But the ligue had pushed her inhibitions out the window, and with wine glass in hand, Astra wandered out the room to find Skiron. Jess felt a rush of happiness for her. Even if it was on account of the ligue, she was going to tell the person she loved most in the world how special he was to her. And as that warmth filled her, instinctively, Jess’s gaze strayed to Matteo in turn. Unable to resist her own desire to look at her favorite person in the whole world, her gaze clasped his tall, muscular form, reassuring herself that he was there, he was alive and close to her. His brown eyes met hers with both protectiveness and gentleness. That combination of strength and softness that was so beguiling. So Matteo. The feeling of what she wanted from him, everything, all of him, flooded her gaze, and it was all she could do to remain silent and not make an idiot of herself by telling him in front of an audience everything she felt.
Thank the gods I didn’t have any ligue.
11
RIGHT THROUGH ME
Rune sat in the window seat, perusing the same page he had for the last few minutes, still without taking anything in. A History Of The Faded lay open in his lap. This was King Imber’s Sun Study; the reason there were so many tomes that he would never have known existed a few months ago. He wondered if he’d ever get over how foolish it had been to overlook the Seelies’ gentler wisdom for answers. If he’d only listened to the voices in nature, in the animals, and elements, Alba might have been restored so much sooner.
Whenever Rune wanted some inside time, he took refuge in this room. He found its book-lined walls especially comforting tonight as he’d tried to fathom more about this link to the faded that the Storm-born leaders had spoken of. The link to the Umbran dead that Jess had successfully used to portal her and her companions to Earth.
And then what?
Restlessness about the danger Jess and the others might be facing pushed him up out of his seat. He abandoned the book upon the other two he’d been skimming for the last few hours: Stories of The Faded and Tales of The Drowned.
At least Eventide wasn’t far off. Perhaps a half hour and he’d be able to send a Seelie through to La Alba … if Jess hadn’t returned by then. She could portal back outside of Eventide.
So, why hasn’t she yet?
Over the last few hours, Rune had considered asking one of the Storm-born leaders to portal through to Earth. But he worried about sending them into potential danger. Besides, there was no knowing whereabouts Jess and the others would be.
A knock issued on the door, bringing a swell of anticipation. Could this be news? “Come in.”
Eilea entered the room. “I had a feeling you’d be up.” She was dressed in Seelie leathers, carrying a tray of food.
Rune closed his mouth, realizing he’d been gaping. He’d expected King Imber or Dearbhla perhaps, anxious for news of Jess. But this was the second time the Storm-born had unexpectedly appeared carrying a tray of food. Last night, she’d sought him out after their awkward meeting in the Sun Hall, bringing him a quiche and salad. He’d been in a talk with King Imber so hadn’t been able to speak to her properly, but Eilea had interjected that as she’d gotten in the way of his dinner, she’d brought it to him.
“Thank you,” Rune said, venturing to the desk where she laid the plate. “But you don’t need to wait on me, you know?”
The Storm-born shrugged. “I just can’t get enough of carrying things for you, you know?”
He colored, his thoughts fluttering back embarrassingly to those moments in the Silvan Mountains when she—this pretty, young woman—had been his steed.
“I’m just messing with you,” she joked. “You’re way too easy to wind up.”
Rune’s mouth was in danger of falling open again, so he opted to take a seat at the desk instead, the scent of the sweet warm pastries on the plate already tantalizing his tastebuds.
Eilea went over to the window seat and sat down, looking out at the view. In the glow of the ignes rock, the closest trees, shrubberies, and flowers would be visible.
As he took a bite of the flaky pastry, he realized it was Eilea’s flippant manner that was throwing him.
You’re seriously complaining about someone treating you like a normal person?
Ignoring his derisive internal commentary, Rune couldn’t help contrasting Eilea’s relaxed manner with almost everyone else’s deference. If the king or any other Seelie had visited him, they would have been cordial, but it was unlikely they’d have checked the reverence with which they regarded him. Even the Storm-born leaders in their conversation last night had treated him in a way befitting a god. Eilea seemed completely unfazed by his power and status, and he didn’t really know what to do with that.
Her teasing comment still had him embarrassed. But he chided himself. It had been a joke. She really didn’t seem to bear him any ill will. Surely, she wouldn’t choose to stay in his company if she’d been serious? Uncertainty rippled through him as he wondered why she had sought him out again.
His gaze brushed her willowy figure; her slender limbs were swallowed by the Seelie leathers she wore. Her skin tone was a brighter blue than the Storm-born leaders’ bluish-gray. Her features, too, were delicate, almost lost behind the thick, black hair she wore to the shoulder. It was shorter, though, than the other Storm-born; a difference likely accounted for by how the Unseelie who had tethered her had shorn her horse’s mane. All of Queen Mara’s pucca were groomed to look uniform when ridden as part of the unit.
Eilea turned around, her fixed dark eyes catching Rune’s as she caught him studying her.
Endeavoring to find something to say, he asked, “Why does your Umbran differ from the other Storm-born?” What he really wanted to know was why she was so different in her manner to the Storm-born leaders and the rest of her people, who bowed and greeted him with his godly title. But once again, Rune took refuge in analyzing one aspect—her language—which was noticeably more modern, like Astra or Skiron’s way of speaking.
A shadow crossed her face. “I learned the modern dialect from listening to the Unseelie and his kin, who tethered me.”
By the Depths. Of course. I just thought that her haircut must be because of them, so why not her language?
He seemed to have a habit of putting his foot in his mouth every time he spoke to her. “I’m sorry–”
“Why? You didn’t tether me.”
Her blunt comment brought a flash of Queen Mara carving her scian into Jess’s arms. Rune’s stomach quailed at the thought that Eilea had been through a similar sort of pain. Marked. He knew, theoretically, that the Unseelie similarly marked the Storm-born with iron: the pain, iron token, and their mingled blood bringing about the abhorrent magic that bound their soul to the fae’s. Consequently, they were at the behest of their master’s call. Of course, that hadn’t prevented Eilea or Beinn, the only tethered pucca who had been part of the wild Storm-born herd, from transforming into their human forms when Rune had unlocked them with the Umbran winds.
