Storm Born

Chapter Ten

By my count, we’d spent a little over two hours at Dorian’s and almost an hour getting there. That did not please me. At this rate, we might not get home until dawn in our world. If we made it home.

Dorian’s servant, Gawyn, looked like he was about a hundred years old. No, wait. Actually, that’d be pretty young for one of the gentry. Okay. He looked about a millennium old. I don’t know. He was just old, plain and simple. His gray hair fell almost to his ankles, and as soon as I saw him hobble forward, I suddenly envisioned us taking another three hours to get to Aeson’s, despite how close Dorian and the spirits claimed it was.

“He’s ancient,” I whispered to Dorian. “And he seems kind of…out of it.”

Gawyn was currently telling Wil what lovely legs he had, despite the fact that Wil had none in spirit form. I wasn’t entirely sure if Gawyn even realized Wil was male.

“His mind will be razor sharp when it comes to Aeson’s castle. As for speed, I’ll give you horses. You look like you could ride a number of things exceptionally well.”

I ignored the innuendo, mostly thinking how it’d been years since I’d been on a horse-not counting my earlier capture. Horses had never done much for me. I didn’t get why little girls wanted ponies. If I did more riding tonight, I’d likely be sore as hell tomorrow.

Once my weapons were returned, we set out. Dorian waved us off, telling me he’d be looking forward to my next visit. I stayed professional, simply thanking him for his help. I think this delighted him more than any other reaction could have.

The horses did give us more speed than walking and were the best I could have hoped for in a world without mechanical transportation. The horse I rode was midnight black with a small white star on its nose. Gawyn’s appeared to be a palomino. The spirits and Wil merely drifted in our wakes.

In the darkness, I could just barely see Gawyn glancing over at me. “So you’re Eugenie Markham. The Dark Swan.”

“So they say.”

“I met your father once.”

“Oh?” I didn’t bother making the father-stepfather clarification.

“Great man.”

“You think so?”

“Absolutely. I know some don’t think so…but, well, you should be proud.”

“Thank you. I am.”

Gawyn said no more, and I pondered his words, feeling kind of surprised. Considering what Dorian had told me, I hadn’t expected Roland to have fans in the Otherworld. Then again, Dorian had also said that some-what was her name? Maiwenn?-had opposed Storm King. They might very well view Roland as a hero.

We traveled in relative silence after that, broken occasionally when Finn would happily spout about what a great party Dorian had had. Like before, we crossed in and out of the various kingdoms and their climatic changes. I still felt like we traveled in circles. More than once, Gawyn called us to a halt, scratched his head, and mumbled to himself. I didn’t find that reassuring. At one point, he led us off the trail and into a forest, and I hoped one of my minions would speak up if we’d gotten completely lost. Everything was tropically warm and flourishing here, so presumably we rode in the Alder Land again. Gawyn came to a stop.

“Here,” he said.

I looked around. Night insects sang in the trees around us, and the smell of dirt, fresh growth, and decaying plants permeated the air. It had been dark before, but now the canopy of leaves blocked out even starlight. Gawyn climbed off his horse, nearly falling into a heap on the ground. I started to get down and help him, but he soon righted himself. He walked a few paces forward and then slammed his foot against the ground. A hard, solid sound answered back.

I dismounted as well. “What is that?”

Volusian, back in a legged form, walked over. “A door of sorts. Built into the ground.”

“Yes,” said Gawyn triumphantly. “Built for sieges. But never used anymore.”

“Does it lead into Aeson’s fortress thing?” I asked.

“To the cellar. Stairs from the cellar lead up to the kitchen. From the kitchen, you take the servants’ stairs-”

“Whoa, hang on.”

I wanted to make sure I had it all. Volusian created blue flame to cast light, and we drew a map in a clear spot of dirt based on Gawyn’s recollections. I might have doubted his memories, but he spoke with certainty, and he had managed to lead us to this obscure place. Maybe Dorian had been right in the “razor sharp” assessment. When Gawyn felt we had the directions to the residential wing memorized, he told us he wouldn’t join us. He would wait here to tell Dorian what became of us. That was fine by me. I didn’t really regard Gawyn as a battle asset-or Wil, for that matter. Unlike the old man, however, the ghostly conspiracy theorist didn’t take being left behind so well.

“But I told you, I need to reassure her-”

“No,” I said firmly. “I let you come this far, and you almost ruined things with those riders. Now you wait. If Jasmine’s scared, she’ll hold on a few more minutes until we bring her out to you.”

I worried I’d have to bind him-I could actually do it since he was here in spirit, not in body-but it didn’t come to that. He conceded, so I entered the trapdoor with just my minions in tow.

“Truly,” remarked Nandi as we entered a darkened tunnel, “it is amazing that you have not died yet, mistress.”

“Well, hang in there. The night is young.”

Volusian provided light again, and we let it guide us along a stone-encased tunnel that smelled damp. Rats ran by at one point. Finn had been right. Apparently the Otherworld did have its share of animals and vermin.

When the tunnel sloped upward, I knew we had reached the end. A wooden door in the ceiling marked our next gateway. I asked the spirits to go into an insubstantial form. Hitherto, they’d walked along looking very human. I needed them obscured now. Compliant, all three shifted to what looked like a fine mist surrounding me.

I pushed open the door and climbed out, finding myself in a small enclosed space. The mist that was Volusian glowed once more, and I made out the shapes of bags and boxes. If Gawyn was right about this attaching to the kitchen, then those containers probably contained food or other supplies. Twenty feet in front of me, a doorway was outlined in light shining through from the other side. I walked up about ten steps and gingerly opened the door.

I now stood in a kitchen, a very rustic one compared to my own, but completely on par with what I’d seen at Dorian’s place. All was quiet.

“Where is everyone?” I murmured.

“It’s late now,” Finn whispered back. “No one’s hungry. And Aeson’s not into the party scene as much as Dorian.”

We found the servants’ stairwell exactly where Gawyn had said it would be. Unfortunately, when I opened the door, I found a servant there, just coming down. We stared at each other stupidly, and I had only a heartbeat to decide how to handle him. I wielded both gun and athame. In another state of mind, I probably would have just killed him. But something held me back. Maybe it was Dorian. Maybe it was seeing his people and having to acknowledge they were more than just a faceless mob. Whatever it was, I chose not to kill this time. I reached out, grabbed the guy, and gave him a hard jolt to the head with my fist and the butt of my gun. His eyes rolled back, and he collapsed to the floor.

Once he had been safely deposited in the cellar, we continued on our way. We encountered no one else on the stairs, nor in the magnificent hallway it led us to. Enormous stone pillars supported the high ceiling, and rich oil paintings of various landscapes turned the walls into seas of living color. We had reached the residential wing, just as Gawyn had said. If my other intelligence was correct, we’d find Jasmine Delaney behind one of the many doors lining the hall.

Fortunately, housekeeping had decided to leave open all of the unoccupied rooms. Sticking my head inside a few, I could see no one had occupied them in awhile. The beds were stripped of covers, and dust coated everything. Only two doors were actually closed. In some ways, that made my job easier. Yet, I might have enjoyed the buildup of opening a few false doors before the big payoff.

Weapons readied, I opened the first one. It led to a bedroom almost bigger than Dorian’s, but no one was inside. All was dark and still. A smoldering fire provided the only source of movement. Pausing a moment, I admired the wall tapestries and canopied bed. It had a nice layout, almost circular, complete with adjacent rooms and high ceilings. It made my bedroom at home look like a closet.

“One left,” I muttered, slipping back out.

We turned down the hall and approached the only other closed doorway. Unless Jasmine was locked in a dungeon, we should find her here, according to what we’d heard. I reached for the handle, then hesitated.

“You open it, Volusian.”

Some of the mist coalesced into physical form. Once solid, Volusian slowly opened the door and peered in. It looked dark. I started to move forward, but he held up a warning hand.

“No, there’s something-”

Light flared on, and suddenly we were under attack. I tried to back out of the room, but someone grabbed me, pulling me inside. With me at risk, the other minions poured into the room. They had no choice, their preemptive orders always demanding they look to my safety.

This was a bedroom, like the other one, but seven men stood here, armed with weapons and magic. I fired at the one who had grabbed me, aiming for the face and neck now that I knew what little effect I’d had on Dorian’s people. It was bloody and messy, but I felt pretty sure even the best healing magic would have a tough time fixing that guy up.

Once free of him, I turned on the next one who came at me. He was smart enough to strike out at my gun hand, attempting to neutralize that threat. I slashed at him with the other hand, the one holding the athame. He flinched at the feel of iron, and I used that momentary weakness to grab him and shove him into the wall with my elbow. He collapsed to the floor, and a sharp kick to the gut made sure he stayed down.

I saw the spirits engaged in battle nearby, shoving and fighting with a strength that was literally inhuman. Two other men had been subdued or killed by them, and they now fought a third. That left two. One lunged at me, and I shot him, the gun’s report loud in the small room. He fell backward, and I fired again, still not trusting gentry healing on their own turf.

I started to look for the last guy when I heard a small whimper on the far side of the room. I turned, pausing. It was her. Jasmine Delaney.

She was smaller and slighter than I’d thought she’d be. A long white gown covered her body, and she wrapped its voluminous folds around herself as she huddled in the corner. Lank, reddish blond hair nearly covered her face, but it couldn’t hide her eyes. They were enormous and gray, filled with fear. They stood out sharply against her pale, gaunt face. Seeing my gaze upon her, she cringed further.

Anger boiled within me. And pity. I knew she was fifteen, but in that moment, she looked about ten. She was a child. And she was trapped here, taken against her will. Hotter and fiercer my rage grew. I needed to make her captor pay, to let him know he couldn’t just My moment of emotion cost me. In those seconds I’d spent staring at her, I’d lost the last man. I felt a blade at my throat and realized I’d let him sneak up behind me.

“If you want to live,” he said, “drop your weapons and call off your servants.”

I didn’t really think I’d live if I did that, but I was pretty sure I wouldn’t if I didn’t. So I did as he asked.

Yet, it wasn’t entirely clear to me what this one guy could really do alone. A moment later, I had my answer as another man entered. Immediately, I knew he was Aeson. For one thing, the others had been dressed in a sort of uniform. He was not. He wore deep burgundy pants tucked into thigh-high boots made of black leather. A shirt of black silk clothed his upper body, billowing and gleaming. His gray-streaked brown hair was pulled back in a short ponytail, and a circlet of gold sat on his head. His face was long and narrow, with a mouth destined for good sneers. Arrogant or not, Dorian had never worn a crown in his own keep, I realized. There had been no need. His kingship was obvious to all.

Two guards followed Aeson, and upon seeing the situation, he sent one for backup. And here we’d been doing so well in evening the odds.

“If I’d realized you would decimate my men in minutes, I would have had the whole garrison up here,” Aeson remarked. He leaned toward me, touching my cheek. “It really is you. Eugenie Markham. I can’t believe I finally have you.”

I tried to squirm from that touch, but I had nowhere to go, not with a blade at my throat. My minions waited, tense, willing to do whatever I asked. Yet, I feared unleashing them might put Jasmine at risk-and my own throat.

“You have her,” said a shaking voice from the hall. “I did what I said. Now give me Jasmine.”

Moving my eyes, I stared in astonishment. Wil floated in the doorway. He must have followed us after all. He looked at Aeson expectantly. An uneasy feeling built up within me, and everything clicked into place.

“You traitorous son of a bitch!”

Ignoring my outrage, Wil turned pleading eyes to Aeson. “Please. I brought you Eugenie. I kept my part of the deal.”

“Yes,” said Aeson without even looking at the other man. “You did. And I will keep my word-momentarily.”

He kept studying me like I was some kind of treasure or artifact. Like I was the eighth wonder of the world. I appreciated the boost to my ego, but the look in his eyes was actually kind of creeping me out.

“Aeson-” tried Wil again.

“Shut up,” snapped the king, still staring at me. The hand on my cheek slipped down and cupped my chin. He smiled, but it was a cold smile, one that didn’t meet his eyes. In the corner, I heard Jasmine make a distraught sound. “After all this time, after so much waiting, I can finally beget the heir.”

The statement was so ludicrous as to simply bounce off of me without comprehension. “Either kill me or let me go. I hate these idiotic soliloquies.”

The entranced look on his face suddenly sharpened, and he blinked. “You…you have no idea, do you?” When I didn’t answer, he started laughing so hard, I thought tears would form in his eyes. “I’ve tried so hard to get you, and you never even knew. You really don’t know.”

“Know what?” I asked impatiently.

“Who your father is.”

I didn’t really appreciate the Star Wars-esque routine. “Roland Markham is my father. And the next time I see him, we’re going to come back and kick your ass together. If I don’t do it now.”

“The next time you see him, you should ask him for the truth about you and Storm King.”

“I don’t have anything to do with Storm King.”

“He’s your father, girl. Roland Markham is a murderer and a thief. How could you not have known?”

He might as well have been speaking a foreign language. “Maybe because you’re insane. And because I’m human.”

“Are you? Funny. You function in this world as easily as one of the shining ones. I’ve never met a human who could.”

“Maybe I’m gifted.”

I had on my bitch-bravado face, but his words were sneaking into me. I’ve heard that the soul often recognizes truth when it hears it, even if the mind does not. Maybe that was what was happening. My logical self was still being stubborn, but something…something in his words tickled the back of my mind. It was like some image lay there, covered in a black veil, waiting for me to lift it.

“You are gifted. More than you know.” He brushed my hair out of my face. “Soon I will give you the greatest gift of your life. I’ll redeem you for being a blood traitor.”

“Shut up.” The keres had called me a blood traitor too. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Then why do you look so pale? Admit it. You’ve always known. You’ve always been alone.”

“Everyone feels alone.”

“Not like you do. Rest easy, though. You won’t be lonely much longer. I would have taken you to my bed even if you were ugly, but now that I’ve seen you-”

There were a lot of ways to have your maniacal tirade cut short, but being attacked by a fox was a new one. I didn’t even know where it came from. One minute, Aeson was babbling on about having his way with me, and the next, a red fox was leaping out at him, claws and teeth bared. I’d never thought of a fox as a really dangerous animal, but this one looked lethal. It was the size of a German shepherd, and it hit Aeson like a tank. Its claws left scratches on his face.

The guard holding me released me to help his master, and I retrieved my gun. I fired on him just as he was about to pry the fox from Aeson. It wasn’t a killing shot, but it distracted him, halting his progress. I grabbed the wounded guard and threw him as far as the difference in our body weights would allow. He collapsed into a pile, and I shot him again. I turned toward Aeson to check the fox’s progress, but the fox was no longer holding the king down.

Kiyo was.

My mouth dropped open. Kiyo. The black hair curled behind his ears, and I could see his muscles straining as he struggled with Aeson, his hands wrapped around the king’s throat. Fire flared up from Aeson’s fingertips, and I heard Kiyo grunt in response. I started to go to him without conscious thought, but he yelled at me to get Jasmine.

Jasmine. Of course. The reason I was here.

I dragged my eyes from the face I’d been obsessing on for the past week and approached the girl in the corner. I didn’t think she could move any farther against the wall, yet she seemed to do so with each step I took.

“Jasmine,” I said, leaning over and trying to sound gentle despite the panic coursing through me. “I’m a friend. I’m here to help you-”

With those pathetic eyes and worn features, I’d expected some difficulty in getting her on her feet. What I did not expect was for her to suddenly leap out and flail at me with both hands.

“Noooo!” she screamed, her shrill voice grating against my ears. I recoiled, not because of the threat she represented but because of the damage I could potentially cause her. “Aeson!” She ran to the struggling men and started beating fists on Kiyo’s back. I suspected they had about the same effect as a fly landing on him. He transformed into a fox, and her blows fell on Aeson instead. I reached for her in that moment of surprise, but she was too small and too fast. She slipped away from me and everyone else in the room, and ran out the door before any of us could stop her.

“Jasmine!” I yelled, my cries echoed by Wil as I ran to the door. Kiyo and Aeson still fought, and some distant part of me noted how Kiyo slipped in and out of fox and human forms as Aeson used fire magic against him.

“Eugenie,” gasped Kiyo, “get out of here. Now.”

“Jasmine-” I began.

“The girl is gone, mistress,” said Volusian. “The kitsune is right. We need to get out of here. Cut your losses.”

“No.” I stuck my head out the door. Jasmine was not in sight. Over a dozen or so guards running down the hall were, however.

“Eugenie!” It was Kiyo again. “Run!”

“Yes, Storm Daughter,” laughed Aeson, blood running out of his nose. “Run home. Ask Roland Markham who your father is.”

“You bastard-” I wanted to lunge at him, to help Kiyo, but Finn grabbed me.

“Jump now. Back to your world.”

The pounding boots in the hall were almost upon us.

“I can’t. Not from here. I don’t have an anchor.”

“Yes, you do.”

He glanced over at Wil, who hung there, translucent and utterly useless. If it had been up to me, I would have left Wil and his betraying ass here to be destroyed, but suddenly he had a purpose.

Seeing my uncertain look, Kiyo said, “I’ll go as soon as you do. They’re here!”

And they were. Men pouring into the room. I probably shouldn’t have cared what happened to Kiyo, but I did. I wanted him to get out of this alive. I wanted to find Jasmine and bring her away. But the best I could do now was save my own skin.

Invoking Hecate, I shifted my senses away from this world, reaching out to my own. While doing so, my will grabbed ahold of a startled Wil, dragging his spirit with me. A hard transition like that, without a crossroads or thin spot, theoretically could have dumped me anywhere in the human world. But I had Wil’s spirit in tow. It had no choice but to snap back to his physical body, out in the Sonora Desert. If I was strong enough.

“Follow!” I yelled to the minions. Or maybe it was to Kiyo. I didn’t really know.

The world shifted, my senses blurring. Crossing worlds in a convenient spot was like crossing through a wall made out of plastic sheeting. It was thin, and it took some struggling and clawing, but you could eventually get through. Jumping without a normal crossover spot, however?

Well, that was like breaking through a brick wall.