It was no great surprise that the kelpies, some in humanoid form and others in their horse forms, were there. Ceff was a fair and honorable king who inspired loyalty amongst his people, but the kelpies were not the only water fae to have come. There were selkies with their large, dark eyes, and mermaids splashed tauntingly at the river’s edge.
We were at the edge of the industrial part of the city where warehouses sprouted from the harbor and mills grew up from the banks of the brackish river. But we were not that far away from the Old Port Quarter where humans would be getting off work and stopping to grab groceries, or a pint at their favorite dive bar or pub. Just a few more blocks away, tourists dined in fancy restaurants and shopped in stylish boutiques as office workers poured like ants from gleaming towers of steel and glass.
My plan was a simple one. As soon as I learned about the Wild Hunt’s aversion to water, I began scheming ways to form a dragnet of allies to harry our enemy, forcing Herne and his barghest hounds away from the population dense areas of downtown Harborsmouth.
I couldn’t guarantee that there wouldn’t be innocent civilian casualties, but I vowed that we would do everything possible to keep their number to a minimum. In this, we were in perfect agreement with the Hunters’ Guild. They would take every step necessary to protect the humans of Harborsmouth.
The water fae’s magic was integral to our plan, but I was also counting on their presence to ensure the protection of the other innocents of this city. Just as not all fae were monsters, we were not all-powerful or trained for battle either. Yes, many fae had the capacity for magic and cunning, but some focused on healing, nurturing plants, and raising families.
I’d met some of these fae while rescuing their children from an abductor who planned to use their souls for his own selfish ends. Furred, feathered, spiny, or scaled—fae families had wept and pleaded for their children’s safety, and they’d all rejoiced when they’d been reunited. It was for those families that I now fought, just as much as for the humans who remained blissfully unaware of the threat that once more lurked at their doorstep.
My chest tightened as I looked out over our assembled allies, humans and fae come together for a common cause.
“Ceff, you did it,” I said, voice hardly a whisper.
“No, Ivy,” he said, a satisfied smile on his lips. “We did this.”
“And it’s not the first time, is it, lass?” Janus asked, stepping forward.
I tilted my head to the side, and frowned.
“I’m pretty sure I’ve never fought the Wild Hunt before, not even in my nightmares,” I said. “Of which I’ve got quite the collection.”
I muttered the last, narrowing my eyes at the assembled crowd. For all their determined faces, this could still go terribly wrong in so many ways it made my head spin. I tried to etch their whole bodies and hopeful faces into my mind. Those images would be preferable to what I might see this night. Our large numbers meant that much more potential nightmare fodder.
I shook myself as Torn slipped out of the shadow cast by the nearest warehouse.
“Janus is right, Princess,” he said, waving a lofty hand at the well-armed men. “This isn’t the first time you’ve brought this city together. You have an uncanny ability to bring enemies together as allies. Sometimes you even manage to create lasting bonds between us.”
I thought over the events of the past year, the months that passed here in the human world, and nodded. Torn and Janus had a point. When the each uisge attacked last fall, I somehow begged, pleaded, and bargained my way into gathering an army of Seelie, Unseelie, and witches. Hell, even the undead had lent a hand in stemming the panic that the monstrous attack could have caused. It had also been the first time I’d worked with any of the Hunters’ Guild, and began to build trust between us.
Since then, I’d continued to work with opposing factions of humans and supernaturals throughout the city on various cases. Many individuals—humans, demons, kelpies, trolls, hobgoblins, witches, and Hunters—I’d come to consider my friends. Through blood, sweat, and tears, we’d become a family. That family was often at each other’s throats, and dysfunctional as hell, but I couldn’t deny that we’d forged something special.
We had a bond that couldn’t be broken. In fact, each new threat only made us stronger. I wiped a hand over my face, and sniffed hard. Pesky allergies.
“I didn’t do it on my own,” I said, nodding at my friends. “I couldn’t have saved the city from the each uisge, or rescued those kids from the Danse Macabre, or brought an army together today without all of your help.”
“See,” Torn said, raising an eyebrow. “There she goes, doing it again.”
“She really is kind of awesome,” Jinx said with a wink.
“You are a natural leader, Ivy,” Ceff said. “You care about this city, and all of its inhabitants. That is why people trust you, and rally to our cause. Your love knows no bounds. It is your greatest strength.”
And my greatest weakness. But I kept that last thought to myself. No point being a downer. We’d need every bit of hope and good will we could manage.
I wasn’t kidding myself. We had a solid plan, but the Wild Hunt was no easy foe. This wasn’t the first time this city had faced a barghest. Last time, it had taken every magic user in the city to bring down one beast. Now there were dozens of hounds, and they were led by a powerful faerie who was possessed by a great spirit and driven by a vicious, spiteful queen.
I looked out over the Hunters and the water fae. I’d spent my life on the periphery, never truly belonging. Today, I realized that I was part of something greater, something larger than myself. With that came the heavy weight of responsibility.
For each man or woman who died today, blood would be on my hands. I didn’t relish killing, even if it would mean freeing members of the Wild Hunt from decades of enslavement. But my friends were right. I’d become good at fighting our enemies, even when those fights ended with taking a life.
I swallowed hard, and looked to the sky. Giant owls circled ominously overhead, relaying our every move to our enemy. We needed to act soon, before Herne and his hounds began their hunt, but, with a bit of luck, I had one more ace up my sleeve.
I’d sent Marvin and Hob to the suburbs on a mission. That mission served the dual purpose of keeping them out of the action, and to rally the pooka to our cause. Originally, I’d hoped to entice the pooka to use their thief skills to steal a piece of Herne. That plan had changed.
When I learned of Kaye’s intention of binding the Wild Hunt to her own will to use as a weapon in the coming war, I began questioning the pooka’s mission. Later, when it became apparent that Herne was using giant owls as spies, a new plan began to take form.
I had a new primary mission for the pooka, and I’d managed to contact Marvin with this new plan. Trouble was, there was no guarantee that the pooka would accept the bargain. I watched the sky attentively, releasing a breath only when I saw a swarm of bright, glowing caps flit through the air.
That was my signal. I pulled my gaze from the sky, and looked out over the crowd of Hunters and water fae. I had to trust that the pooka would do their job keeping Herne’s spies busy.
I drew my blades, and held them above my head. The steady buzz of a multitude of conversations quieted instantly. Blood roared in my ears, old fears making my mouth go dry. But I swallowed hard, and met the eyes of the assembled.
“Thank you all for coming,” I said. “The Wild Hunt threatens this city. At sunset, Herne will ride, and his hounds will hunt us, both human and fae alike.”
“Let ‘em try!” someone shouted.
I waited for the chuckles and back slapping to subside.
“Together, we can stop the Hunt, and put an end to the senseless suffering and enslavement of men and women whose only crime was to be in the Wild Hunt’s path,” I said. “But first, we must nip at their heels before they taste our blades.”
I turned to Ceff, and nodded.
“Water fae,??
? he said, raising his trident. “It is time to change the tides of this battle. Tonight, we will coax every river, stream, and wave to our cause. Safe tides and blissful currents!”
“Safe tides!” they shouted.
Water fae lifted their hands, and closed their eyes. Mermaids began to sing. Hunters knocked arrows, or drew their swords.
As the last rays of sun shone on Harborsmouth, we marched.
Chapter 40
The pooka took to their mission with enthusiasm. The tiny faeries carried a creative collection of weapons, including an assortment of sharpened tools, but the most effective were the aerosol sprays. More than one owl plummeted from the sky, harried by pookas, after being blinded by bug repellant, pepper spray, deodorant—even silly string.
With Herne’s spies temporarily out of the picture, Hunters marched toward the Wild Hunt’s position. Our plan was to rout the Hunt further into the industrial district, away from the business and residential areas where there would be a much higher rate of civilian casualties.
Chaos filled the darkening skies as pookas harassed Herne’s giant owls, and all around us squads of Hunters fanned out between the warehouses to form a wall of human flesh. But as the sun slipped behind the silhouette of city buildings, a horn rang out—once, twice, three times. A shiver ran up my spine, and I sent up a silent prayer to any gods who might be listening.
Kaye had warned us that Herne would sound his horn thrice, and the Wild Hunt would ride at sunset. She’d ordered us to retrieve a piece of Herne so that she could bind the Wild Hunt to her will. I’d defied that order, and, for once, ignored her wisdom. Hopefully, I wouldn’t regret that choice.
I stumbled as a howl split through the night. Ceff hesitated, but I shook my head.
“I’m fine,” I said, gripping my blades tight.
True blooded fae can’t lie, but we can find ways to bend the truth. When I said that I was fine, I meant that I hadn’t injured myself in my fall. But I wasn’t fine. After leading the Wild Hunt to Harborsmouth, I wasn’t sure if I’d ever be fine again.
But now was the time for false assurances. We couldn’t afford any additional distractions. Ceff’s attention was already split between issuing orders, summoning the water from the nearby river, and keeping an eye on my safety. Not that I needed a protector, but he ignored my protests, no matter how many times I insisted the last was unnecessary.
So we ran together, Ceff a calming presence at my side. I focused on that sense of calm, and the sound of Ceff’s melodic voice issuing orders, as I located and identified targets. Not that the Wild Hunt’s hounds were hard to miss.
It has been speculated that barghests originated as the unfortunate offspring of a mauthe doog, a type of fae black dog, and a hellhound. With their bristling, spiny, black fur, needle-like claws, and glowing, red eyes that wasn’t hard to believe. They were each larger than a mastiff, with jaws that could snap a grown man’s bones, or tear off an arm or leg for a chew toy.
Not only did we rush headlong toward those gaping, slavering, teeth-filled jaws, but we did so with smiles on our faces. In fact, Torn was singing something about dogs and bones with such glee that the nearest Hunters shot him nervous glances, and gave him a wide berth.
Hunters pounded swords against shields as we ran, and dark shadows arced over our heads as bowmen launched a volley of arrows at the hounds. The barghests slowed, for the first time questioning the strength of their prey.
As we closed the distance, Jinx lent her crossbow to the fray, and I set an iron and silver spike flying with the snap of my wrist. It wasn’t one of my blades, I’d save those for later, but the spike—a particularly long and heavy nail I’d filled my pockets with from the Hunters’ Guild armory—would be a nasty surprise, one that was likely to slow the barghest whose hide I’d pierced.
The air filled with startled whines followed by angry growls. The ground rumbled with the barghest’s fierce anger and desire for revenge. We had the hound’s attention. Now to give the Hunt what they wanted.
Herne and his hounds wanted a hunt, and we planned to give them a merry chase. We ran, but rather than backtrack toward downtown, we veered hard to the west. With barghests and Herne riding close at our backs, we ran across crumbling pavement and between rusting storage buildings.
Earlier in the day, with the help of Master Janus, I’d pored over maps of the city. The largest area that lay outside the heavily populated areas of the city was split in two by the Opechobee River. Old mills and docks had sprouted along the banks of the river over a hundred years ago. Now that area was an industrial area housing most of the city’s warehouses, factories, storage buildings, and more than a few vacant lots.
It was also, thankfully, not far from Eben Braxton’s junkyard. I shuddered to think of the carnage if the portal from Faerie had opened in the center of the city. Thank Oberon, that hadn’t been the case.
The Wild Hunt’s instincts, and Mab’s directive to gather more souls to the Hunt, would drive Herne and his hounds deeper into the city. That’s where our revised plan came into play.
I’d been toying with the idea of using the Wild Hunt’s aversion to water against them. When I voiced my concern over the location of the river, Ceff had suggested we incorporate that problem into our plan. It relied on a huge outpouring of support from the kelpies and their allies to succeed, but Ceff had somehow enlisted the aid of water fae in large numbers.
Those fae were now hard at work. Kelpies, mermaids, selkies, and other exotic water fae I couldn’t name, sang, danced, and lifted webbed hands to the air, and the night filled with the sound of rushing water.
The river to our left kept us from pushing the Wild Hunt farther south, so we did the unexpected.
We moved the river.
Chapter 41
The scent of mud, fish, and river water was strong as the water fae lifted the entire river incrementally into the air. It was slow going at first. I caught glimpses of the rising river from between buildings as we ran. It moved inch by inch at the start, and I wondered if we’d misjudged.
Even with my enhanced fae strength, speed, and agility, I was beginning to tire. My calf muscles burned, and the damp air seemed to scrape inside my throat and lungs with each ragged breath. Ceff, Torn, and I were no strangers to hard exercise, but we hadn’t had a moment of rest since returning through the portal, and our final day in Faerie hadn’t been a peaceful one. I’d risked our deaths passing through the Forest of Torment, entered Mab’s winter palace, pushed through my uncle’s incarceration, and faced down the entire Unseelie court with the knowledge that once we returned home to Harborsmouth, I could finally sleep in my own bed.
So far, that hadn’t happened. They didn’t complain, but I guessed that Ceff and Torn couldn’t be faring much better. My uncle had imprisoned them in iron chains, and it wasn’t the first time that Ceff had been poisoned with iron sickness. Each exposure left him weaker and more vulnerable.
Not that anyone would think Ceff or Torn were weak by looking at them. They both raced along at my side, two wing men who promised death to any barghest that dared take a swipe at me. But I had to wonder just how long we could keep this up. Eventually we’d tire, and one of us would die.
At least I’d been able to convince Jinx to join the archers on the rooftops. From there she could harass the barghests without the threat of stumbling and ending up as a chew toy. I just had to trust that Janus’ men would keep one eye to the sky. Herne and the barghests weren’t the only threats. The sky was still filled with the battle cries of pookas as they attacked Herne’s giant owls, but the tiny faeries were also tiring.
Fatigue wasn’t our only problem. We were running out of road.
Torn wrinkled his nose, and hissed as droplets of river water pelted us from above. The water was cold, murky, and stank of dead fish and a river polluted by factories and city sewage, but I flashed my teeth in a smile, and the men around me threw back their heads and cheered. The water fae had moved the entire Opechobee River
.
We’d done it. We managed to lure the Wild Hunt onto a battlefield of our own choosing. The more population dense parts of the city were safely behind us.
“What now, Princess?” Torn asked, as we broke free of the warren of alleys that ran between the warehouses and storage buildings.
I leapt over a dying fish, hoping it wasn’t an ill omen. We’d contained the Wild Hunt away from the areas of densest civilian population, but that didn’t mean people wouldn’t die this night. The first part of my plan was complete, but it was too early to celebrate. We still had a pack of bloodthirsty monsters to battle and an undead uprising to quell.
As the silhouette of Master Janus and his elite unit of Hunters came into sight, I nodded and signaled to our squad to turn and stand our ground. We stopped running, and faced the dark rider with his glowing red eyes and the oncoming pack of angry barghests.
“Now we fight,” I said.
Chapter 42
Warm blood hit my face, sucking me down into a vision that was blessedly brief. This time I’d had the fortune of being splattered by the blood of a dying pooka, filling my head with a cascade of moments of extreme joy and pleasure, except for the painful moment of his death. Most pookas manage to skate through immortality without the burden of tragedy and mental instability that plagued so many of the larger fae, which meant for shorter visions when my psychometry was triggered by the dying pooka’s blood. But even the short visions associated with the pooka’s memories were enough of a distraction that I nearly lost a leg.
I sucked in a ragged breath, and struggled out from under Torn who was straddling me with a leering grin.
“Careful, Princess,” he said.
“By the tides!” Ceff exclaimed, face blanching as he kicked at the barghest that was snapping its teeth mere inches from my booted foot.