Weald Fae 03 - The Aetherfae

  “Unless he’s the world’s best actor, we’ll be fine. I believe Ian thinks Ronnie is cute,” I whispered back.

  Candace laughed. “That’s irritating, but I guess there’s one reason to have him along.”

  “That’s a little harsh,” I whispered.

  “Trust me, he gives as good as he gets—I haven’t quite forgiven him for calling me Rhonda.”

  I snickered. “Top barb of the trip, so far.”

  Candace shook her head. “Yep, top barb of the year.”

  Light haired and light skinned, Ian chatted away with someone on the other end, and then beamed. “I’ve got two rooms for you,” he said, scribbling on a shred of paper.

  “That’s great, thank you, Ian.” Ronnie took the paper and rewarded Ian with a half-smile.

  “Oh, god, if this place is even remotely decent he’ll be impossible to live with,” Candace protested quietly.

  “Ian’s cute. I saw you flirt with him, too. Jealous?”

  She bumped hips with me. “Oh no, you’re on my side. Don’t forget that.”

  I laughed. “That all depends on how nice the hotel is.”

  Ronnie walked over to us, looking far too proud. “Got two rooms—you ready?”

  “Aren’t you going to tip your little friend?”

  A devilish smile crossed Ronnie’s face. “He knows where I’m staying.”

  Candace winced. “Ugh, I’m sleeping in Maggie’s room.”

  He grabbed Candace’s arm and pulled her into motion. “Good idea. I think I’m going to love Ireland.”

  “Let’s just hope Ian isn’t sending us to some dive in a ratty part of the city.”

  Ronnie rolled his eyes and chuckled. “A hundred dollars says it’s better than the freighter.”

  Candace seized the challenge. “You’re on.”

  The taxi shuttled us past the port. In less than a mile, we crossed a bridge to the south side of the Liffy River. The streets were lined with four and five story buildings, a mix of modern and old—not what I had expected. I thought Dublin would look more, well, Irish than it did. Further to the west, the plain glass and concrete twentieth century structures became rarer, and the city began to charm me. Older narrow brick and stucco characters peered at us from across the river. When the driver turned down a one-lane alley, I started falling in love. It was the Dublin I had imagined. Ronnie turned and grinned at Candace. She groaned softly beside me. The tires of the van rumbled down the cobbles between much older buildings with arched doors, coining, and painted trim. There were people everywhere, vivid colors surrounded us, and music filled the air. The cab driver stopped in front of an adorable three-story building with dark red trim and flower boxes hanging from each second-story window.

  “Yeah, looks like a real dump,” Ronnie gloated.

  “You got lucky,” Candace growled, handing him a wad of cash.

  A plump, pleasant woman with gray hair and an intoxicating accent ushered us through the downstairs pub, checked us in, and showed us our rooms on the third floor. The instant the door closed, I sprawled out on crisp white sheets and let my body relax. Candace and Ronnie forgot their tiff and began making plans for dinner.

  “Let’s go to a pub and have a pint,” he suggested.

  Candace shook her head. “A beer? We’re hiding from a hoard of immortals bent on wiping out the human race and you want a beer?”

  “You’re right,” he said with a contemplative scowl. “We could die tomorrow. That calls for whiskey.”

  I snorted a laugh.

  “All our IDs say eighteen. Hello? No one’s going to sell us liquor, unless Ian has a second job tending bar.”

  Ronnie sighed. “Would you drink with me if we can?”

  “I would,” I said, goading Candace.

  “What about you?” he asked Candace, sounding defeated.

  “After the last three weeks, yes, I would. But it’s a moot point.”

  Ronnie grinned, “Get dressed ladies. I’ll be back in twenty minutes.”

  “Why are you grinning? What don’t I know?” Candace looked annoyed.

  “You are brilliant, Candy girl, but you apparently don’t know that the legal drinking age is eighteen in Ireland.”

  “Really?” Candace shook her head trying not to laugh. “You’re lying. Mags, help me out.”

  He shook his head. “It’s true. Get dressed—you promised.”

  Candace looked at me, doing her best to ignore him. “Is he right?”

  “I think he is.”

  “Can we? I mean, is it safe?”

  I thought about it for a second. “I don’t sense any Fae in the city and who knows what’s going to happen tomorrow. I’m three-quarters Irish…seems like it’d be a sin not have a drink my first night in Ireland.”

  I learned two things that night. First, whiskey and Guinness are an acquired taste, apparently—I wasn’t particularly fond of either. Second, the Irish were about the friendliest people I’d ever met—too bad most of the people in the bar were tourists. Temple Bar was noisy and loud until early into the morning—Ian had undoubtedly sent us to tourist central.

  * * *

  “Oh, come on. Really?” I moaned.

  A Fae entered my senses, yanking me out of a deep sleep. It never slowed nor changed direction, passing no closer than half a mile. It wasn’t dawn yet, but my heart thrummed in my chest, making it impossible to think about sleep. I was tired, but there was still too much noise on the street. Might as well do something constructive.

  I concentrated on Sara. I had to find her, and since she’d bolted when I projected, I would have to locate her and then drive. That wouldn’t be easy if the Sidhe moved a lot.

  Floating above my body just long enough to concentrate on Sara, my mind flashed through the numbing void that separated us. Just like before, she hovered in Naeshura amidst a dozen other Fae. It was cloudy and very dark, but my mind’s eye made out a circular stone wall about twenty feet tall and nearly a hundred feet in diameter. The Fae communicated silently with one another.

  “Avalynn, you will remain here with me. Dana requested Brea, Sara, and Fand at Cnoc Aine.”

  The name Cnoc Aine sounded familiar, but I couldn’t place it. Nevertheless, I tried to commit it to memory.

  “Is there news?” Devin asked.

  “Troubling news from the East, yes. The Second attacked the Hulijing. Tiang was destroyed. The rest of the clan survived only by taking refuge with the Ancient Ones. We have received word from the Alux in the West that fewer than twenty Ometeo fled south when the Alliance attacked.”

  I had no idea who the Alux or Hulijing were. Small clans, I assumed, but it was a relief the Sidhe were already aware of what happened in Guatemala.

  “And the rest of the Ometeo?” Sara asked.

  “They have joined the Alliance. Ozara’s numbers swell.”

  “So it comes to this?” Avalynn asked. “To avoid annihilation at the hands of an invisible enemy, they flock to the open arms of an old one? And I thought nothing could be worse than the Seelie and the Unseelie.”

  “It is unfathomable that Ozara and Zarkus have joined forces.”

  “Drust, it is not unfathomable—the signs have been there for a century, if only we had bothered to read them,” Devin said.

  “The signs were there for you to see, perhaps. Unlike you and Sara, I never abandoned my clan. I never left my shores to service a dictator in the Weald. Your clan—”

  “Drust, enough,” Sara cut him off. “We are not the enemy—it behooves you to direct your anger elsewhere. Devin and I made a choice, and it is one I would not hesitate to make again. Whether you understand that is immaterial—whether you like it—completely unimportant. We are here now.”

  Several minutes of tense silence followed.

  * * *

  Ronnie rubbed his glassy eyes. “I didn’t sleep more than a few hours. You?”

  “I don’t want to hear about it,” Candace moaned, clasping both sides of her head.


  “Please, Ian left right after you did. Total bust. Then the noise kept me up. Mags?”

  “No, too loud,” I said.

  Candace raised an eyebrow, and smirked.

  “What?” Ronnie asked, briefly glancing at her.

  She unfolded her thin fingers, palm up, and laid her arm across the table. “This is worse than the freighter. Pay up.”

  He stared at her hand for a moment and then shook his head. “Fine.”

  Candace pocketed the crumpled bills as our breakfast arrived. “Okay, so what’s the plan?”

  “We need to be in a place called Cnoc Aine tomorrow night.”

  “I’ve never heard of it,” Candace said, pulling a piece of brown soda bread to her lips.

  Ronnie stood. “Give me a minute.”

  He returned several minutes later and tossed a map of Ireland on the table. “I saw it in the room this morning when I couldn’t sleep.”

  Candace and I ate and scanned, but never found any place on the map called Cnoc Aine.

  “We need to find a computer,” she said.

  “Internet café?”

  She looked up and grinned. “Surely there’s one close. Ma’am?” she said to the waitress.

  “Yes,” the woman said, gliding up to the table and glancing at the map.

  “Is there an internet café close?’

  The blonde woman wrinkled her pale brow and then relaxed. “Why yes, there’s one a block from here on Dame Street.”

  “Thank you,” Candace said.

  “Sorry, it’s really none of my business Miss, but is there something I could help you with?”

  Candace turned and looked at me, and I hunched my shoulders.

  “Well, we’re trying to find a place on the map, but it doesn’t seem to be there,” I said.

  “Of course, and what might that be?”

  “Have you ever heard of a place called Cnoc Aine?”

  She laughed, and the rest of us exchanged looks.

  “Sorry, Miss, I don’t mean anything by it, really. Of course I’ve heard of it. The sacred hill of the Tuatha De Danann. You here to explore the ancient sites of the Sidhe are you?”

  I nearly choked.

  “It’s all right, Miss, no shame in it. A lot of Americans make the pilgrimage. Popular tourist spot it is. Although, there’s not much to see, if you ask me. Cnoc na Teamhrach is more interesting.” She looked at all of us. “The Hill of Tara? If you’ve heard of Cnoc Aine, surely you’ve heard of the Hill of Tara. It’s much closer, only thirty minutes by car.”

  “We appreciate the tip. We’ll be sure to check it out,” I said.

  “You must. You’ll thank me for it later.”

  “We’d also like to see Cnoc Aine—do you know where it is on the map?”

  “You be looking for Knockainy, one word, on the map. County Limerick.” She leaned over Candace and pointed to the map. “Yes, there it is. About three hours from here.”

  “Thank you.”

  “All right, then. Is there anything else?”

  “Yes,” Candace said. “It was loud last night—too loud. Do you know of a quieter part of town…not so many tourists.”

  She studied our faces and smiled. “At night there’s nothing here but a manky shower of savages on the tear. So, are you here to see the sites, or do you want to see the real Dublin?”

  “I’d like to meet the locals, you know, see a few things off the beaten path,” Candace said.

  “Don’t be telling anyone I said this…” She eyed the kitchen door. “I recommend Dalkey, just south of here, ‘bout fifteen minutes by joer. It’s right posh. The food is better, the pubs are better, and you can’t find a grander view than the top of Killiney Park.”

  “Thank you,” Candace said.

  “My pleasure, Miss. Be careful at Cnoc Aine—you don’t want to upset the Sidhe,” she said, drawing out the words like she was telling a ghost story.

  “We’ll be on our best behavior,” I said playfully.

  Candace shot me a look, trying not to laugh.

  EIGHTEEN

  INTUITION

  The area of Dalkey turned out to be a perfect suggestion. Crooked and narrow streets, rock walls, beautiful old buildings, and street lamps with flower baskets—it had as much character as any place I’d seen. We checked into a large hotel near Killiney Hill Park less than a mile from several restaurants and a pub on Castle Street. Architecturally, it resembled a castle, but inside the décor was traditional and a little over the top. My room was awash in rich gold fabrics and tasteful. Candace’s room, however, looked like some kind of Victorian nightmare. Ronnie called it floral terrorism.

  With a warm cloudless day to enjoy before trying to find Sara at Cnoc Aine, we acted the part of tourists, climbing to the top of Killiney Hill to marvel at Dublin, the sea, and off to the east, the mountains of Wales. We walked down to Dalkey and ate lunch at a pub next to an authentic castle. That evening, we followed the advice of a local shop owner and found another little restaurant on Castle Street for dinner. She said the chowder and the crab legs were brilliant. Tucked into a building with a nineteenth century façade and burgundy awnings, the Coliemore Harbour House looked inviting and smelled even better.

  We relaxed in the back corner. Square wood tables, sleek upholstered chairs, and lots of soft light—it was a comfortable and soothing space. While we waited on the second course, I felt a Fae moving toward us from a mile away, from the direction of the hotel. When I tensed up, so did Candace and Ronnie. They were fixated on me like they were stalking a deer. I recognized the Fae and experienced a combination of shock and disbelief.

  “For crying out loud, Mags, what is it?” Candace snapped.

  “Not what, who,” I said, feeling warmth tingle through my body.

  “You’re doe-eyed. Is it Gavin?” she asked.

  I looked at her, astonished, and chuckled. “How do you do that? You’re scary.”

  She smirked. “No. You’re obvious.”

  “Yes, it’s Gavin, but I don’t know why…Oh, yes I do.”

  Ronnie shook his head. “Um, use your words.”

  “Have to admit, Mags, I don’t know what you mean, either.”

  “Last night, when I listened in on Sara and the Sidhe, they said the Ohanzee were sending an envoy. I didn’t know who, until now.”

  Candace’s pleasant expression melted into a look of horror.

  “What?”

  “Does he know you were hurt?”

  I rolled my eyes at her. “What do you think? No way.”

  “He’s about to find out.” Ronnie said, tapping his neck, staring at mine.

  “Oh…oh no.” A chill tingled through my chest and spread down my spine. Not only were there bruises on my neck from where Mara bit me, but my arm was a patchwork of purple and green. Gavin tracked us, visiting each place we’d been during the day. When he got closer I wrote the name of the restaurant in my head. He bolted towards us. Slipping behind the corner of the building, he took physical form. I was ten feet from the door when he stepped inside.

  Trepidation turned to pure joy when I saw his V-shaped silhouette and tousled black hair. Masculine forehead, chiseled cheekbones, square jaw…each time I laid eyes on him it was like seeing him for the first time. He wrapped me in his arms and held me so my toes just reached the floor.

  “Don’t worry,” he said. “Your family is safe—I’m here on business.”

  “I know. You’re here to meet with the Sidhe tomorrow night.”

  He cocked his head to side, and with a smoldering look in his chocolate eyes, stole my breath and weakened my knees. “Are you happy to see me?”

  I pressed my mouth to his, trying hard not to whimper when the nerves throughout my body went berserk. I failed. He chuckled and growled, biting my lower lip. I struggled for breath when he set me down and led me back to the table.

  “You certainly know how to make an entrance,” Ronnie quipped. “Every woman in here is hyperventilating, and half the men.” r />
  Candace scanned the tailored black t-shirt that clung to every muscle in Gavin’s upper body. She growled, “I hate you, Maggie O’Shea.”

  “It’s good to see all of you alive and well…even if you’re not as well as you made out.” Gavin gave me a slight frown.

  “About that…”

  Gavin dropped his eyes to my bruised arm and took my hand. “You can explain later.”

  My skin tingled as if a soft breeze danced across its surface. Slowly the bruises vanished and the residual soreness melted away. I closed my eyes when the warm sensation spread across my shoulder to my neck, setting my heart racing in my chest. Like the delicious aftertaste of chocolate, the sweet sensation lingered in my body for several minutes after he finished.

  “Get a room,” Ronnie said, waiting for me to open my eyes.

  I felt my face blush.

  “Maggie has a room, up the hill, in the castle,” Candace goaded me.

  Gavin leaned forward, eyeing them. “You know, I could compel both of you to go mute.”

  They blushed and I laughed. “So, how did you get here?”

  “Seoladán.”

  “The one at the Weald was destroyed.”

  “It was, but we created a new one.”

  “A new one?” Candace asked.

  Gavin nodded. “Tse-xo-be and Wakinyan were among those who created the first Seoladáns—it wasn’t much of a challenge. The new entrance is masked under Clóca, and other than the Ohanzee, a few Sidhe, and the three of you, no one knows about it. Tse-xo-be thought it was best to have an escape route in the event the Weald was attacked again.”

  “But if Ozara finds out and comes through the Seoladán, you’ll be trapped like the Ometeo, won’t you?”

  Candace’s froze when she realized that I hadn’t told her and Ronnie what I’d seen in Guatemala. I ignored the nasty look and focused on Gavin.

  “Ozara won’t be able to find it on her own without passing through it on our end first. Using the portals is like making a phone call—you have to know the exact energy signature and location to link two together. To ensure that was the case, Tse-xo-be changed the location from the top of the mountain to the second island. It’s like we told Maggie: a new Seoladán is like a…it’s like an unlisted, unregistered phone number in a place where there’s no caller ID. You can call from it, but you can’t call it back unless someone shares the number. Fae can pass through a new Seoladán to any other, but unless a Fae knows the correct location—or number, if you will—it cannot travel to it. It won’t stay a secret forever, but for the time being, it’s safe.”