Page 17

EILISH

Delendren Glade

This is it.

This is the place from my dreams, the place that’s been calling to me since I first left.

With tears in my eyes, I turn around and spot the gate I used to come through every day.

But back then, there was no desert, just the ancient buildings left over by the humans.

Did they turn to dust like everything else, or have they been buried deep beneath these sands?

Regardless, this is my home. The Delendren Glade was once a haven for all, a place where my mother healed warriors and fed the hungry.

To return here after so much heartache and misery... it shakes me to my core.

I can practically hear my mother calling out from the doorway as my sister and I run through the lavender fields with twigs in our hair and stains on our dresses. My head begins to spin and I feel like I’m drifting on a memory.

I walk to the place where I found them... only to see that a garden has been planted there. The garden is untouched by the snow; it’s lush and green as though spring exists only in this small patch of the glade. I fall to my knees, gently brushing the petals with my fingers.

Tears stream down my face as I remember them. And I remember me. The way I used to be.

Solya’s laughter surrounds me though I know she’s long gone, somewhere in the Veil or the afterlife. The only thing haunting me now is my own memories.

Whoever did this, whoever planted this garden here, I must thank them. When the time is right.

For now, I stand and move toward the hovel.

Old, rotting wood squeaks beneath my feet as I step into a small kitchen with a table at its center.

Bottles of powders and hanging herbs are covered with dust, cluttering the cupboards and countertops.

A small healing room is off to the right, where cobwebs drape from the slanted ceiling.

I walk past the doorway, toward the room I shared with my sister.

Solya’s book is still open on the table between our beds.

I sit on the edge of my mattress and toy with the lace that lines my pillows.

We never had much, but mother always did her best to give us what we needed.

Running my hand along the edge of the nightstand, I open a secret notch.

I dig a little deeper into the compartment and pull out a journal—one I recognize.

It’s my old journal. The leather is thin and threadbare, and the pages are yellowed from age, but the binding is still intact.

Suddenly a stream of excitement blares through me— this is it! I think. This could help me restore the memories I’m still missing. I flip the journal open to a random page and read aloud.

“I met a stranger in the woods today. Though he has yet to tell me his name, I know he’s the Unseelie Prince.

He talks in circles, like he’s afraid of me as much as I am of him.

Mother tells me to stay away from him, but I find myself enchanted by the man who lurks in the shadows.

He says my smile is more beautiful than the three moons of Oronrel. ”

My hand flutters through the pages and stops on a page slightly smeared with bloody fingerprints.

“They took Theren,” I read “His father is angry. There are whispers through the city, whispers that Theren is being held in the dungeon. Mother warned me that pain would come to us both if we didn’t set aside our foolish love.

But I fear it’s too late for Theren and me, too late because we are in love and that love is pure. ”

Hands trembling, I tuck the journal into my bag.

The house no longer feels warm from the strength of my memories.

Instead, the frigid cold claws its way through the layers of my leather armor and I hurry from the hovel I once called home.

Maybe this place can be restored to what it once was, but there’s a darkness here that makes me think maybe restoring it isn’t such a great idea.

A figure appears before me. The snow doesn’t sink where he stands and I know he’s not real, but I recognize him, all the same.

“You were here to kill me that day,” I say. “You are the Cockatrice, one of Abedon’s creatures.”

He doesn’t speak, but I know the truth. He’s still out there, somewhere. Maybe not hunting me any longer, but he still does his master’s bidding, whatever that bidding is. I approach him, watching as he shifts into the beast I remember.

“Why does Abedon want me dead?”

The beast growls, hunkering down as his tail flicks back and forth. But it doesn’t respond.

“Morrigan was the one who sent you after me. Did you come for me because it was she who asked? Or was that part of your master’s plan, as well?”

A feeling inside me says nothing happens in the realms without Abedon’s knowledge. Morrigan may think she’s in charge, but while her former lover might be imprisoned, he’s not powerless or blind. He knows all. He sees all. And the race to open his prison is working in Abedon’s favor.

Whether the Cockatrice or Morrigan succeeds, Abedon will be free. And when he is, there must be someone there who’s ready to stop him.

My vision of Morrigan standing beside me could mean something. But I don’t trust her.

“There’s something we’re all missing, isn’t there?” I ask out loud. Turning back toward the mountain, I sling my bag over my shoulder. There’s something here. I can feel its energies reaching out to me, similar to my own and yet very different.

My feet carry me along the mountain path as the wind blows snow off the treetops. Thick slabs of ice cover the side of the mountain, leaving nothing for me to hang onto if I lose my footing.

The energies I feel are growing stronger with each step.

***

CAMBION

Mercenary Stronghold

“We have never met,” I observe. “Come. Tell me your name…”

“Eilish, my king.” The slight rasp to her voice makes my prick thicken in my trousers. That’s a voice that should be screaming my name to the rafters while I repeatedly plunge myself into her velvet wetness. “And I come here to make a request.”

I wish for her to keep talking; the words that drip from her supple lips make me think lecherous thoughts. I’m drunk, but not from liquor. In fact, it takes quite a lot for me to feel inebriated by common drink.

“What might your request be?” I saunter over to her, drinking in the sound of her labored breaths. She’s nervous. Good. She should be.

My hands itch to squeeze her ample ass and caress the tantalizing curves of her hips and breasts. Fuck. That’s a body crafted for sinful pleasure. My sinful pleasure.

I continue to advance, placing my body between her and the door. “Speak up, Eilish. It’s not wise to keep a king waiting... unless you toy with danger in hopes of being punished for it.”

“N-no. Not that,” she insists and then swallows hard. “My mother and sister are in danger. For their protection, I would do anything.”

“Anything?” I repeat.

She nods. “I’m sure you understand my meaning, my king.”

Her fingers jump to the tie that keeps her robe closed. Pulling softly on the string, she allows it to slip from her shoulders. Finely crafted leathers and delicate lace cling to her glorious proportions, a perfect contradiction that makes me throb with need as her words echo in my mind.

I flick open the clasp between her breasts and they spill from the fabric as if eager to feel my hands and mouth. “You would give me this… you would give me your body to save them?”

“I would give anything.”

I shake my head to relieve myself of the memories that still haunt me. The Cockatrice is still out there and he exists only for the purpose of serving Abedon. But his contract with Morrigan remains, which means he may still be after Eilish.

I was a fool to have let her out of my sight. Eilish is strong and more skilled now than she has ever been, but there are beings in the world that would benefit greatly if they collected the bounty on her head or sought to enslave her for her power.

King Galmer waves me goodbye with a wish of good fortune as I run from the Hall of Clans. A tangerine light glows from the end of Myerdoth’s cigarette as the large gargoyle leans against the brick, eyeing me as I approach.

“I need your help,” I tell him, and feel my heart sink into the pit of my stomach as I struggle to breathe evenly.

“Go on.”

“Lady Fulthain is gone. She never returned from the raid and our sprite companion has informed me that she’s heading somewhere very dangerous.”

“What do you need from me?” The gargoyle takes a long drag and exhales through his nose. I smell the faint aroma of wolfsbane and hemlock with subtle notes of chamomile and lemongrass.

“We need at least two archers, three footmen, and a tracker. There’s no telling what direction she went or if the sandstorms have blown away her trail. I leave in an hour.”

The cigarette dangles from Myerdoth’s lips as he nods and soars toward the barracks. I head back to the Vindication headquarters to gather my things. Flumph and Noni exit their room, dressed for battle and carrying their small weapons. Their loyalty never fails to amaze me.

The three of us leave the compound only to be stopped by a soldier. “Lord Cambion,” he says with a bow of his head. “The artificer in the dungeons is asking for Lady Fulthain. I thought you should know.”

“Thank you.”

Flumph and Noni accompany me to the dungeons, where Zir’s head pops up as I approach. She shuffles over and opens a small chest with a pile of rings inside. Small crystals are engraved along with several runes, but they flash with blinking lights like human technology.

“What is this, Zir?”

“Her Graciousness instructed me to craft communicators for the Rebel Lords of The Vindication and their allies. These are in the final stages of testing and I wished to show her.”

“How do they work?” I reach through the bars of the cell and pluck one from the pile.

“They are linked by magic signatures, allowing the users to contact one another using telepathic frequencies.”

“Telepathic frequencies,” I repeat. “As in… read each other’s minds.”

Zir nods.

“Is it safe?” I ask.

She nods again. “It is entirely safe and will allow you to track one another and speak with your minds.”

I slip the ring onto my finger and it tightens itself. A small needle pricks my skin and I blink as a map appears in my vision. After the ring adjusts, my sight clears.

“It only works from one ring to another at the moment, so it won’t help you locate Her Graciousness,” Zir explains. “Not unless she were to wear one, as well.”

I eye her with interest. “How did you know she needs to be located?”

She smiles. “There is very little I don’t know, though my visions come in clouded context usually.”

“Thank you.”

The small woman flushes and hurries away with the box.

Flumph gives her a look that says he’s still skeptical of how helpful the artificer will be, but if Eilish trusts her, then so do I.

I grow weary of questioning everything. If there are consequences to be had, then I will face them with dignity.

Noni takes the lead as we head toward the stables. Myerdoth waits there with a handful of mercenaries to join our efforts, and I thank them all as I mount my horse.

“No matter what we face, we return with Lady Fulthain. Those of you who aren’t willing to give your lives for the leader of our rebellion, turn back now. I won’t hold it against you.”

No one turns away.