Page 16 of Against the Veil (Endangered Fae #3)

Laden with well wishes and bits of advice, they were finally able to disentangle themselves from the worried fae and begin their journey downriver.

Zack, the more experienced boatman, took the rudder position.

Since they headed downstream, he could have kept them to a good pace on his own, but with Diego to help paddle, they sped along.

Profusions of flowered vines overhung the banks amid dark cypresses.

In many spots, the vegetation stretched over the river in astounding cathedral arches of emerald, pendulous, melon-shaped flowers in scarlet and gold, swinging like strange, alien bells in the breeze.

The spice and tamarind scent overwhelmed Zack at first, making him dizzy and a little queasy.

Eventually his new senses grew accustomed, though, and he started to pick up other scents underneath the flowers.

The sharp smell of river mud competed with the earthier tones of wood and dozens of smaller scents that teased at him but he couldn’t identify them.

Enough to make a guy nuts. “Diego? What’s the river called?”

“This is the Alainn. I’m told it means ‘beautiful’.”

“Not the most original name.”

Diego laughed. “No, but the fae aren’t always complicated. They enjoy the obvious, too.”

Zack wasn’t sure if he meant more than what he said but he let it go in favor of guiding them around fingers of rock in the middle of the current.

They spent most of the day in companionable silence, each lost in his thoughts.

It still amazed Zack how comfortable and comforting it was to be with Diego.

A short, whirlwind year ago, he’d been all fanboy nerves when they’d told him who his patient was.

His colleagues had been clueless, but Diego Sandoval had been, and still was, one of Zack’s favorite writers.

Too bad he didn’t have as much time for writing anymore.

And a lot of that’s my fault. Damn it.

When they started to lose the light, Zack searched the banks for a likely place to beach the canoe for the night.

He steered them to a sand spit where stones had forced the riotous vegetation to leave an empty space.

At first glance, the flint-gray rocks seemed just another random tumble, left behind by some natural builder—flood, earthquake, the unstoppable creep of glaciers.

On closer inspection, he realized the surfaces were too smooth, the shapes too regular.

“I thought the fae didn’t build,” he said, his voice soft out of respect for the ancient stones.

Diego gave him an odd look. “The sidhe don’t, but you know the Fomorians do.”

“Yeah, but never aboveground.” He shook himself, trying to get rid of the uneasiness creeping up his spine. “And they’re all immortal. Why let something fall apart like this?”

“I suppose there might be some of the same reasons humans do.” Diego lifted their packs out of the canoe while Zack pulled it onto the sand.

He took a deep breath, eyes closed. “I don’t feel old violence here.

More a feeling of…haven.” He ran his hand over the closest stone.

“I don’t think this is a ruin. I think these were placed here just the way they are. ”

“Why?”

“There are no breaks, no cracks. It looks like a jumble to us, but I think it’s purposeful.”

“Maybe we shouldn’t be here.” A whiff of something caught at the edge of his senses, a hint of exotic spice but with a chill undertone.

Diego shook his head with an exasperated chuckle. “It’s getting dark. I don’t think we should be paddling at night, no matter how good your night vision’s gotten.” He turned away from examining the stones. “Whatever you’re picking up from this place, is it threatening? Territorial?”

“No, just…” Zack hesitated, casting about for something concrete. “Just strange. Sorry. Guess the whole heightened senses thing has me edgy.”

He settled next to Diego and fished a protein bar out of his pack.

They would build no fires here, so food would be either foraged or cold.

It would have been difficult to starve in the Otherworld, at any rate.

Abundance took on new meaning here, with berries and nuts in hundreds of edible varieties everywhere one turned.

“So what’d you bring?” he asked between bites.

“Hmm?” Diego gazed into the little crystal sphere he always wore around his neck. What he saw in it, Zack couldn’t imagine and he never asked.

“For the dragon lord, what did you bring?”

Diego cleared his throat and shot him a crooked smile. “Silly Putty.”

Zack choked on a laugh before he thought about it. “Bet it’s something they’ve never seen before.”

“I’m counting on it. And I’ve done my research so I can explain the chemical structure if he asks.”

“Surprised if he di—” Zack cut off abruptly. The strange, frigid spice scent hit him hard. “We got company.”

Diego put a hand on his arm. “Don’t get up. Stay still.”

A tremor of adrenaline raced through him, but Zack stayed put, peering into the dark woods.

He knew they were there but he still couldn’t stifle a gasp when they materialized from the trees.

His improved night vision picked them up quite clearly.

Impossibly tall, at least ten feet, the willowy figures moved without a single snapped twig or leaf rustle.

Their pale skin shone with a milky blue iridescence, their features so delicate and fine he thought at first they were all female.

Subtle differences in body structure hinted at both sexes, though.

Male or female, seven of them surrounded the little camp and leveled spears at the human intruders. Zack swallowed hard, fighting against his instinct to shove Diego behind him. Those weren’t primitive weapons pointed at them. They glowed and hummed in a way that made the inside of his head itch.

“ Bane sidhe ,” Diego whispered. “Don’t move.”

“Hadn’t planned on it,” Zack forced out against his dry throat.

One of the strange fae crouched in front of Diego. Silver eyes stared down at him like twin moons, without the distinction of pupil or iris. They lent an illusion of blindness but Zack was damn sure they saw everything.

“Light-wielder.” The fae’s voice sounded like half a dozen flutes played softly, trilling notes more than words. “Darkness follows.”

Diego folded his hands in his lap and took his time answering. “There’s always darkness. Do you mean my companion?”

“Your wake,” came the non-answer. Then the silver eyes turned on Zack, the bane sidhe’s lips pulling back to reveal sharp teeth. “Devourer.”

Zack thought he probably meant the whole werewolf thing. “It’s not something I wanted. I’d change it if I could.”

“You will be sifted.” The bane sidhe rose and gestured sharply.

Three more came forward, each holding a silver rope.

Zack tried to keep Sionnach’s advice in mind and stayed as still as possible as they fastened the first rope around his throat.

His muscles trembled with the effort of inaction and his blood sang in his ears as the rope settled against his skin, so cold it burned.

They bound his arms behind his back, each wrist lashed to the opposite elbow, then lifted him to his feet as if he were a child’s toy.

Diego, he realized in a mix of irritation and relief, they left unbound. One of them simply reached down to take Diego’s hand and began to lead him into the trees.

Afraid they were about to be separated, Zack called out, “Wait!” He lurched forward, trying instinctively to tug free. The rope around his throat tightened. His knees met the ground hard as he struggled for air.

He heard Diego pleading somewhere nearby, “Please don’t hurt him. He’s a friend.”

“To whom?”

“To me. To the fae,” Diego went on desperately. “To life.”

The pressure eased and Zack pulled in a whole breath, dark spots flitting over his vision. They lifted him back to his feet and yanked off his kilt.

“He may yet live,” the first bane sidhe said.

Zack stood stone still when he realized where the third silver rope was going. “Oh, you have got to be kidding.”

One of the females tied the last rope around his cock and balls.

She took the free end of this rope and used it as a leash.

Even a small tug was enough to get him moving and Zack followed awkwardly behind her.

He doubted it was meant as humiliation, simply a practical way to keep a captive’s attention, but he still flushed hot at such intimate handling. And God help me if I stumble…

The trees soon gave way to meadow, the soft grass soothing against his skin. He tried to keep his mind off the rope around his genitals but the biting cold made it impossible. Damn it, it hurt, and forced him to an odd, splay-legged gait that did nothing to restore his dignity.

“Zack? You okay?” Diego called back as the ground rose in a gentle incline.

“I’m good. Mostly.”

A hill rose before them so suddenly, Zack missed a step.

Thankfully, one of the tall fae caught his elbow before he could fall.

He could have sworn nothing had been there a moment before.

Maybe they’d turned to the right or left and he hadn’t realized it.

Hard to concentrate with cold silver fire acting as a cock ring.

An arched opening appeared in the side of the hill, and he was damned sure that hadn’t been there before either. The entire party trooped inside and Zack twitched in reaction when the arch snapped shut behind them. Liking this less and less all the time.

A narrow corridor took them through bare earth, forcing them to walk single file. One of the bane sidhe kept a hand on his shoulder, which gave him some hope. At least they were being careful captors.

The passageway opened into a huge space, the vaulted ceiling lost in the shadows.

Luminescent fungi provided enough light so that even Diego didn’t stumble on the uneven ground.

He was up ahead, pleading with the apparent leader for Zack’s release, explaining about the safe passage given by the courts.

The male fae regarded him with what seemed to be a patient expression.

Then he patted Diego on the head and motioned for him to take a seat on one of the moss-covered rocks.

“Diego?” Zack called to him as they led him to the center of the chamber. “You get a chance to go, you take it. Don’t stay for me.”

“I really wish people would stop saying things like that to me,” Diego grumbled. “You don’t seriously think I’d leave you.”

“Serious as a heart attack. You’re too important. They cut you loose without me, you beat feet.”

“Going to pretend I didn’t hear that.” Diego reached up to touch the arm of the bane sidhe leader. “What will you do?”

“Sift him,” he answered.

These fae spoke understandable words but in a completely different language. Finn had always said they were strange. He’d never really explained how strange.

The female with his cock-leash stopped, so Zack halted a step behind her. She threw back her head and uttered a piercing, ululating cry that jarred Zack’s bones and made his heart stutter. There’s where the whole banshee shriek legend comes from…

From the gloom, maybe from other chambers and hallways, maybe from the earth itself, dozens more bane sidhe appeared to join the original seven.

They surrounded Zack, humming and trilling.

None of them touched him, but his feet suddenly left the floor.

He fought to stay calm and relaxed as his body levitated to horizontal, eight feet off the ground.

They weren’t going to let him fall. Why go through all this trouble just to drop him on his head?

Leash-holder coiled her rope and set it on his stomach. No more need to keep hold of him. He couldn’t move anything but his eyes. Some sort of test or inspection was about to begin. All right with him as long as he wasn’t going to be dissected.

He struggled to unclench his jaw. Helplessness wasn’t a feeling he tolerated well.

The bane sidhe gathered close, their chill scent making his head swim.

Suddenly they moved as if they had one mind.

Hands touched him, fingertips caressing his arms, his stomach, his thighs, his face.

They touched everywhere—even the crack of his ass and the tender spot behind his balls weren’t left out.

He tried to think of it as a medical procedure, nothing more, and squeezed his eyes shut to help endure it.

Their hands remained gentle but the uninvited contact felt like a violation.

The leader, who stood by Zack’s head, made a chirping sound and all movement ceased. He pointed to a spot above Zack’s heart, which meant, of course, that they all had to touch him there.

“The light…”

“Without him, hope dies…”

“Scudding clouds…”

“He mustn’t…”

“It is the way…”

“To preserve it…”

“His heart is strong…”

He couldn’t make a damn bit of sense out of what sounded like a debate. But after a long string of what seemed to him non-sequitur half-sentences from the group, leash-holder undid the ropes and took Zack in her arms to lower him gently to the ground.

They offered no explanation. Simply took him and Diego by the hand and led them back to their canoe. At the campsite, leash-holder crouched down to cup Diego’s face between her hands.

“If only you could keep him near,” she told Diego softly. “The dark comes.”

With those incredibly unhelpful words, she and the others were gone.

Zack’s muscles still shook from the strange ordeal, but at least they were both alive. He looked over at Diego, who was still staring into the curtain of cypresses and vines. “I’m kinda hoping that dragons are at least a little easier to understand,” Zack said with a violent shiver.