Weald Fae 03 - The Aetherfae

  “Enough, Amadahy, Maggie does not answer to us.” Even though his reply was silent, I felt his booming voice in my bones.

  Candace gasped and froze in place when the Fae came into view. I reached back and pulled her forward. Tse-xo-be created a stool for her next to mine. Amadahy slowly transformed from a deer into a Sasquatch, and she glared at Candace. Candace backed up a step. I dragged her shaking body to the seat next to me.

  “Did you find Dersha?” Tse-xo-be asked.

  “I did. She isn’t tracking us, but someone is.”

  “Anyone you recognize?”

  I shook my head. “She was hidden behind Clóca—I tried, but couldn’t pierce it.”

  The Fae exchanged looks. “The Second?” Tse-xo-be asked me.

  “I don’t think so.”

  “And how would you know?” Amadahy snapped, causing Candace to shudder.

  I turned to her. “The other Fae answered to Dersha, like a subordinate would. It had a female voice—very deep, very raspy, with a strong accent.”

  “Arustari,” Wakinyan said, looking to Tse-xo-be.

  “Mara.” Tse-xo-be nodded.

  “The blood drinker?” I asked.

  Candace drew in a sharp breath. “Vampires?”

  I squeezed her hand. “Can she track me across country?”

  Tse-xo-be nodded. “Yes. Every human has a unique chemical composition, a unique scent. That scent lingers for days.”

  “But we were in a car.”

  “That doesn’t matter—it wasn’t sealed—there was no time. The vehicle leaked your scent like a rusty bucket. Absent days of torrential rain, she can locate you,” Billy said. “We sealed the truck when we moved your family from Florida, and with the rain, it wasn’t likely any could have followed. She will find this place.”

  “Are we in danger?”

  “It will take her perhaps two days to find us. But you’re not in danger from Mara alone,” Tse-xo-be said.

  That made sense. She wouldn’t stand a chance against Tse-xo-be, but she could lead the rogues back to us. “What do we do?”

  “We move to the next location.”

  “And when they track us there?” Amadahy asked.

  “Then we move again,” Wakinyan growled.

  Amadahy turned her stare from Tse-xo-be to Candace and me. Even though I’d seen a Bigfoot before, it was unnerving.

  “I found Ozara,” I said. “She’s in a desert area with no trees. It’s flat, mostly, with mountains to the northwest—there aren’t any people, but there were hundreds of Fae, maybe a thousand. I searched miles of the area around them. It’s very desolate…I couldn’t figure out where they were until I let my tether slowly pull me to the North. I crossed over Interstate 10, and many miles further north I found a road—Highway 180.”

  “That sounds like the northern border of Ometeo territory,” Wakinyan said. “Did they say anything? Provide any clues to what they were doing?”

  “Several were working on something—I don’t know what they were doing exactly, though. They were drawing immense energy and directing it toward one place deep in the earth. I thought they might be trying to change the land, but nothing happened for a long time. Then more of them showed up.”

  “What does that mean?” Gavin asked Wakinyan. “Have they created a new Seoladán?”

  “Yes. Gavin, you were not alive when we created the Seoladáns of the world—most Fae take them for granted. Each Seoladán has been in existence for millions of years. Young Fae are taught where each is located, taught how to navigate from any location to the next. Ozara is thinking tactics—it is a brilliant move.”

  The Fae all seemed to understand what Tse-xo-be was saying. I didn’t. “I’m sorry, I don’t get it.”

  Gavin said, “The Seoladáns allow energy to pass from one portal to another the instant the boundary is crossed. It’s simple physics. The Seoladáns bend the fabric of space. Fae cross back and forth by harmonizing with the desired destination—think of it as dialing a telephone number. Each Seoladán has a unique number.”

  “Interesting analogy. Gavin is correct,” Tse-xo-be said. “Think of this new Seoladán as an unlisted number. The only Fae who can use the new Seoladán are those who know the number. Attacking Ozara’s clan in North America becomes more difficult. All Fae knew the Seoladán at the Weald. Attacking the Seelie Council and escaping was simple. Now, Fae will be forced to traverse the distance. It makes Talemn Alainn easier to defend. Tactically, until the new Seoladán is discovered, it allows the Seelie-Unseelie clan to attack anywhere in the world and withdraw without the possibility of pursuit. A counterattack will take time to achieve. Based on that, it wouldn’t surprise me if they move on the Ometeo. Ozara will secure a southern buffer zone.”

  “Sherman said Ozara couldn’t track Gavin through the Seoladán at the Weald, so you can’t just follow them back through, can you?”

  “No, we cannot.”

  “Can’t you sneak through it on their end, when you’re in Clóca, and learn the address?” Candace asked.

  Wakinyan smiled. “Yes, and that is precisely what I intend to do.”

  “Since we’re talking strategy, can I ask a question?” Candace asked.

  “Yes,” Tse-xo-be said.

  “This tracker, the vampire. I assume it will be easier for her to track all of us—Maggie’s family, Doug, Ronnie, and I—while we’re all together?”

  “Yes, you’re combined scents are like a glowing trail in the night air leading the enemy right to you—and us,” Amadahy said.

  “That’s what I thought. When Sherman healed Mitch O’Shea, he made him stronger than he’d ever been. When Sherman and Gavin healed me, they made my scars disappear…”

  “Your point?”

  Candace smiled at the Sasquatch staring her down. “You can alter humans, right, why not alter our scent?”

  Tse-xo-be smiled. “That is possible.”

  “What would that accomplish,” Amadahy snapped. “The tracker would recognize the end of one scent trail and the beginning of another.”

  Candace shook her head. “Not necessarily. Think about it…”

  I nearly choked when she said it, but Candace was on a tangent.

  “…We need to go to a populated area, one with thousands of people passing through. You alter us there, preferably during heavy rains, and then we simply disappear into the masses. Some of you could even do what Tadewi did with Maggie at the Seoladán—take her shape and scent. Lead the trackers off in a wild goose chase and then disappear.”

  “How is it you know what I did at the Seoladán?” Tadewi asked.

  Candace turned red. “I read Maggie’s journals.”

  “Her journals?”

  “Yes. Thank you for saving my friend—I owe you.”

  A half-smile formed on Tadewi’s soft face. She seemed amused and turned to Amadahy with a smirk.

  Gavin didn’t bother to hide his amusement when he turned to Amadahy, crossing his arms. She didn’t say a word aloud, but silently she said, “I will admit the girl is clever.”

  “She is exceptionally bright—you have no idea,” Faye replied.

  “It will be raining in Washington D.C. for the next two days,” Billy offered.

  “Then we leave today,” Tse-xo-be said.

  Tadewi looked past me, towards the farmhouse. “Maggie, your family is waking. For your mother’s sake, you will probably want to be downstairs when she comes out of her room.”

  Candace and I walked back through the Fog. It was beginning to burn off in the morning sun. Gavin caught up, dimples and a broad smile plastered across his face. Candace tugged my hand, stared into Gavin’s face, and exhaled. She crossed the porch to the living room, leaving Gavin and me alone.

  “You’ve been keeping a distance,” I said.

  He took my hand, his chin resting against his chest, and looked at me through his brows. “I want nothing more than to be at your side, holding you, but I know that isn’t what you need right now. Yo
u need them,” he said, shifting his eyes to the house, “and they need you.”

  I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and let him support my weight. “I love you, Gavin. Thank you for understanding.”

  He pressed his head against mine and took a deep breath, my body riding the swell of his chest. “I love you, too. Just being near you is all I need.”

  I pulled him a little tighter and he gently lifted me off the ground. That’s all I really wanted, contact without talking about my dad or my feelings—I wasn’t ready to go there. He knew that and it made me love him even more.

  “Do you think Candace’s plan will work?” I whispered in his ear.

  “It will work as well as anything—until we can eliminate the threat.”

  I threw my head back and stared into his eyes. I’d seen the look before when Chalen threatened me after the Earth trial. “So there is another plan?”

  He studied my face like he was unsure whether he should tell me.

  “Gavin?”

  He glanced back over his shoulder, toward where the Ohanzee Elders were sitting. I threw my Air barrier around us.

  “Maggie, they know when you do that.”

  “Well, duh, but that doesn’t mean they have to listen. Spill it.”

  “When your family is safe, and before you set off on your own…” He emphasized the last words.

  “Wait, you know I’m leaving?”

  “Of course,” he said in a somber voice. “…before you set off on your own, we want you to help us track Dersha. Locate her, and Chalen…”

  “To kill them?”

  His thick eyebrows pressed together and his lips curved down. “Yes.”

  “Good,” I said in an attempt to make him feel better. He looked down for a second, grimacing, and then forced a smile—a fake, half-hearted one.

  “Gavin, who is Dersha? Do you know her?”

  “She is an ancient. And yes, I do know her. We once belonged to the same clan.”

  His pained expression made sense. “She was an Olympian?”

  He nodded. “We were friends a long time ago. She is as much a victim of the clan wars as anyone. Perhaps more so.”

  “I don’t recognize the name.”

  “Like me, she doesn’t use her Olympian name. She once called herself Pandora.”

  “As in the box?”

  He chuckled, shaking his head, and looked at me through his brow. “For the record, it was a Jar—but she is one and the same.”

  “Did she open the…jar—like the legends say—and let loose all the evil in the world?”

  Gavin laughed again. “I’m afraid this is another example of humans getting a story wrong after retelling it over and over. The real story has been perverted into a parable. According to Greek legend, Pandora was the first human woman—created by Zeus.” Gavin laughed again. “Zeus didn’t create anyone, and she, most assuredly, is not human. According to human mythology, Zeus gave her a jar—or a box—that contained all the bad in the world. Zeus warned her never to open it, but she was unable to contain her curiosity.”

  “So, what really happened?”

  He sat on the porch steps and waited for me to join him. “At the end of the first war, after Surero, the first Maebown, destroyed Ra, Ozara visited my clan—in force.”

  “You told me once before that the original clans didn’t take sides in the war.”

  Gavin shook his head. “No, they did not. Ozara has never forgiven them, either. She came to Olympus to lure two Olympians away, offering them both positions on the Seelie Council to replace two who fell in battle.”

  “Let me guess, Pandora was one of them.”

  “No, in fact she was not. Ozara had her sights on Ares and Poseidon, two of the twelve leaders of the Olympians. They considered the offer for a month. It was a terrifying time. Leaving would have weakened my clan, made us more vulnerable to the Seelie and Unseelie, so Zeus begged them to stay. A month later, Ozara returned to Olympus demanding their answer. Ares was loyal to Zeus and refused her. It angered her, but I suspect he was never her real focus. Poseidon, well, he was loyal to no one. He agreed to join the Seelie on one condition.”

  “A condition? I’m sure Ozara loved that.”

  Gavin smiled. “He demanded Zarkus’ head. He believed that since the Aetherfae, Ra, was dead and the Unseelie were weakened, Ozara should make good on an old promise: to hunt down and destroy the Unseelie elders—Zarkus specifically. Ozara said no, of course—one doesn’t dictate terms to Ozara. She said the war was over and the killing was done. Had Poseidon wanted to take Zarkus, she said, he should have fought for the Seelie when he had the chance.”

  “Okay, wait a minute, why did Poseidon want Zarkus destroyed if the Olympians didn’t take a side in the war?”

  “Poseidon was first and foremost an Atlantean Fae. Zarkus and the Unseelie destroyed Atlantis over six thousand years ago. Poseidon was the lone survivor. The Unseelie didn’t just destroy Poseidon’s clan—they destroyed the island. Flattened it to the ocean floor so no trace remained. Poseidon came to the Olympians as a refugee.”

  “You’re telling me that Atlantis was real?”

  “Yes, it was real. Not quite what Plato imagined, and not as old as he suggested, but it was real. Its destruction drove Poseidon to the brink of insanity. One Fae, more than any other, helped Poseidon recover from the torment of losing everything he loved.”

  “Pandora?”

  “Yes. When Ozara declined Poseidon’s demand to destroy Zarkus, he became belligerent and threatened her. Only Zeus prevented his death. Ozara sought to punish Poseidon’s public outburst and reestablish the Seelie’s dominance. She took the one thing that Poseidon held dear. She forced Pandora into a bronze urn and sealed it with Aether.”

  “She was innocent…that’s…I don’t have the words.”

  “It was barbarous. To make it worse, Ozara left the urn at Olympus to torment Poseidon. She promised to open the jar when the Olympians apologized for betraying the Seelie—when Poseidon swore his allegiance to Ozara. When she returned to the Weald, each Olympian took turns trying to free Pandora. Poseidon tried for centuries. Not one could release her.”

  “How long did Ozara keep her in there?”

  “Ozara didn’t open the jar. I don’t believe she ever intended to. Pandora was in the jar for over two thousand years. Not until the next Aetherfae came along was she freed. It was Dagda who opened Pandora’s jar. We didn’t recognize Pandora when she emerged. Ancient, radiant, and kind when she went inside, what emerged was a malignant, dark, rage-filled specter of her former self. She attacked the Olympians—it took the five ancients to repel her. She blamed her torment on their hubris and pride. She blamed Poseidon most of all—she has tried to kill him on several occasions.”

  “Does she blame Ozara?”

  “I’m sure there is a festering hatred for Ozara too, and that may be the reason she now fights for the Rogues.”

  “And that’s why she joined the Unseelie?”

  “No, she is not Unseelie. Not exactly. She did fight for them—a debt she owed Dagda for releasing her, but she was little more than a mercenary. You see, more than anything, she now delights in bringing misery to my kind, regardless of the clan. She leaves misery and chaos in her wake—not so far removed from the legend, is it?”

  EIGHT

  A PHOENIX RISES

  My father’s funeral wasn’t anything like I expected. I was sad, sure, but seeing his body did something else to me: it deepened my anger. Mom, Mitch, Grandma and Grandpa, they all cried. I tried to, but I couldn’t. I felt pain and loss and heartbreak, but I couldn’t muster a tear. I wanted to cry because somehow that would feel normal, but I just grew angrier. I replayed the moment he collapsed in my head over and over, each time followed by his last words to me, “You’re so strong. I understand now.” Something much darker than grief festered in my heart. What’s happening to me?

  I lingered when my family returned to the house and prepared to leave. Verm
ont, the isolated farm, we didn’t belong there—we belonged in the Weald. We wouldn’t be going back that day, or anytime soon after, but I promised my father that we would go back. With Mom’s permission, Tse-xo-be cremated my father’s body and gathered the ashes. He put them in an urn Tadewi created. She etched it with the bluffs from the Weald.

  I carried the urn into the house, reluctant tears finally finding my eyes, and handed it to Mom. She looked at me with gentle eyes for the first time in two days. I wanted to say something to her, but I had no words. What could I say? After a few moments, she gently pulled the urn to her chest and walked away, closing the door behind her.

  * * *

  The rain began to fall hard a few minutes before we crossed the yard to an enormous white SUV—the latest iteration of Doug’s Jeep. Great! I threw up an Air shield to keep us dry. When we got to the vehicle, feet wet in spite of my shield, Tadewi handed me a wooden box about the size of a briefcase.

  “What’s this?”

  “Everything,” she whispered.

  “Everything?”

  “Faye and I packed up your belongings before we left Florida. It’s all inside.”

  I laughed. “Thanks for trying. This is more than I thought you saved.”

  “Maggie, it’s all inside. We left nothing.”

  I unhinged the latch and didn’t recognize anything inside. Like an old tin full of buttons, there were tiny objects of every color. I picked up a small pink square an inch wide and two inches long. “My Thunderbird?”

  Tadewi nodded. “When you get to a safe place, I will change everything back—unless you learn how to do it first.”

  “Thank you so much. I thought we’d lost everything.”

  “It was Faye’s idea. She knew how much some of these things meant to your family.”

  “Did you get the garden journal?”

  She reached into the box and fished out a small square book little more than an inch long. “Right here.”

  “Oh my gosh…” The garden journal was the most important thing to me. It signified everything about my family’s connection to the Weald, and was the one journal I didn’t leave hidden in the cottage. I brought it to Florida it to keep it safe, but after the hurricane I thought I’d lost it forever. She transformed it back to its original size and handed it to me. After thumbing through the first few pages, I slid it into my backpack.