Autumn Moon (14 page)

When they arrived at Rhuddin Hall from the clinic, Merin was still there, lingering after dinner. Elen felt no hatred toward her mother, just an awkwardness that seemed impossible to breach. They were strangers, made so by almost seventeen hundred years of separation, a greater divide than the violence of their past. Thankfully, the distraction of Melissa eased their reunion, since a good portion of the conversation focused on the child, a balm to soothe their painful history.

The whole family gathered in the great room, along with Edward and their new shifter. Merin sat on the sofa, leaving a cushion between them. Cormack stood behind Elen, with his hand on the back of the sofa, grazing her shoulders with his knuckles in silent support. Porter stayed by the hearth in arm's reach of several swords. Dylan and Sophie shared
an oversized chair, and Joshua sat on the floor playing with a thrilled child in wolf-pup form.

It would have been a lovely gathering if not for the topic at hand and the woman leading it.

“Edwyn is a traditionalist.” Merin offered information on the eight remaining Council members, and she held every person's attention except for Melissa's. “Rhys turned cruel after the death of his mate and cannot be trusted. Neira is a tedious woman with a sadistic nature, but do not let her beauty or childlike voice fool you. She is a powerful wolf without a conscience. Her only weakness is the pleasures of the body and the pain she craves. She keeps flesh-slaves to satisfy her needs. When Pendaran meets his death, I predict Neira and Rhys will be the first to fight for his seat, and they are both strong enough to win.”

The flickering glow of the fire outlined Porter's stiff silhouette. Silently listening, he turned to face the hearth, keeping his back to the room, but not before Elen noticed his features pinch at the mention of Neira's name. His Celtic cross tattoo stood out like indigo ink on parchment, stark against his bare cranium that reddened as more Council members were discussed. There was a violent history there, and Elen knew some but not any concerning Neira. However, Porter was a proud man, and if the tortures had been of a sexual nature, he would have kept those stories untold. Perhaps it was that experience that kept his wolf dormant, for the Irishman had the full power of a shifter; she'd felt it once on a cursory contact. Porter was whole, and yet he had never called his wolf.

“Maelor is obsessed with his wife and his castle,” Merin continued. “He leaves only if either of those two things is threatened. William was allowed to live after his betrayal, and
last I heard he may have earned his position back. He despises humans and would be content to live isolated with his purity and prejudice intact, but he wants an heir. He will return for the child at Avon, and this one here if he knew of her, to raise her under his control until she comes of age to breed.”

“And Bran?” Dylan prompted, resting his hand on Sophie's leg—who looked ready to jump up and scoop Melissa into her protective arms.

Without asking her husband, Sophie leveled a look toward the girl's father. Edward remained in the far corner, waiting in timid silence for an appropriate time to leave. “I want you to move into Rhuddin Hall. It will be good for Melissa to be around other shifters, where she's directly protected. Joshua can help her adjust to her change as well.”

Edward looked to Dylan for approval, not entirely displeased. It was a great honor to live in the alpha's home.

“There are rooms in the east wing.” Dylan supported the decision, and Elen felt Cormack's sigh of relief ruffle her hair. It resolved his worry, she knew, without separating the child from her father.

A calculating smile of approval tugged at Merin's lip before she answered her son's question. “Bran wants to survive like us all. He and Gweir are similar in their opinions, although Gweir hides his better. I don't believe either will initiate an attack. They are comfortable in their territories. If confronted, they will annihilate any threat without mercy.”

“We should kill them all.” It came as a quiet admonishment from Porter. His shoulders rose and fell on controlled breaths. “Every single one. We should gather our allies together and attack them in their homes—before they come after ours.”

“You would lose,” Merin said without censure. “You are greater in numbers, but they are far greater in strength. Plus,”
she offered on a sardonic laugh, “we are wolves, even those of us who are more human than not; we're compelled to fight for our territories. There is no winning this war. Even if you kill every Council member, others of our kind will seek dominion. It is the instinct of the animal that rages in our blood.”

Unchallenged because of its truth, her opinion cast a heavy silence in the room.

Elen was the first to speak. “What would you suggest we do?”

Merin's gaze held such sadness. Like rain in winter, it had the power to melt ice. It wreaked havoc on broken trusts. This was the first time Elen had spoken to her directly, and the hesitation in her answer was almost . . .
vulnerable
? “Your territory is rich with power. Cherish it. Protect it. And do what you must to strengthen your children.”

“And when they attack us here?” Elen challenged, having been directly involved in all three assaults.

“That is when we kill them,” Merin said, “as I would have done if not for Taliesin's interference. I will not grant another mercy. When they come to us, they must die.”

His voice thick with frustration, Dylan interjected, “How are we to fight a sorcerer who attacks on grounds that we can't see?”

“I don't have an answer for that.” Merin sighed with remorse. “Your safety came at the price of me playing his game, and now my greatest move has been revealed. Moreover, I don't think you have the heart for such deceit, or the guilt that comes of it.” She looked away briefly. “I have done things that haunt my dreams so that yours could be free.”

“If some of those dreams are of me, then put them to rest.” Elen reached over and gently placed her hand on top of her mother's. For a moment, she thought Merin would withdraw, but then she turned her palm up and squeezed. “I
know,” Elen shared quietly between them. “Pendaran told me it would have been him if not you.”

“He would have mutilated you,” Merin said on a broken whisper.

“I understand.” It was enough, Elen realized, or a precious beginning. Anger poisoned the giver more than the receiver, did it not? And forgiveness unburdened dark emotions. The fire crackled in the hearth in response.

Clearing her throat to announce her presence, Sarah entered the room and whispered something to Dylan. “Excuse me for just a moment,” he said, and left with the female guard. He was gone but a minute, leaving the room in curious silence. When he returned, his gaze was guarded. “It's a local incident,” he shared. “Nothing concerning the Guardians. But the night is growing older than me. And Elen has had a trying few days. I would like a private word with you both in my office before you leave.” He nodded toward Elen and Cormack. “Porter, you as well.”

“Indeed.” Merin stood with everyone else. Speculation entered her winter gaze, but she accepted her dismissal with grace. “I will return to your lake house and travel in the morning.”

“Wait here,” Dylan told her. “This will only take a minute, and Sophie and I will drive you there when I'm done.”

Merin gave a slight nod. “Then I will wait.”

Elen lingered. The words she wanted to say clogged her throat, so she settled for a simple, “Good-bye, Mother. Maybe one day you will come to my cottage for tea.”

“Invite me and I will be there.”

“Then make sure we know how to find you.” It was an offer she hadn't planned to make, but it felt right. As she rounded the corner, Joshua said something that made Merin laugh, and the sound brought memories of her childhood to
the surface, earlier ones, when her father still lived. Merin had been happy once, before the Council forced her hand.

Perhaps she could be again,
Elen thought as she followed Cormack and Porter to Dylan's office. She waited until Porter closed the door, knowing her brother wouldn't have separated them without a purpose.

“That was Luc on the phone,” Dylan said without further delay. “He needs you in Avon.” Their youngest brother held no memory of Merin before their father's death. He only knew her as the Guardian who'd shunned him from birth. No doubt he'd asked Dylan to keep his situation between them, which explained this private meeting. “It's urgent, or I wouldn't be relaying the message so soon after your recovery.”

“What's happened?”

“Mae's had an accident,” Dylan said with measured calm, a tone that indicated trouble. The calmer it became the more she knew to worry. “I know what she means to you, Elen. There was a fire in her bedroom, and she was trapped.” He paused. “It's not good.” Mae was the first born without the ability to shift, a fact that hung in the room without needing to be said. Worse, human hospitals were out of the question because even non-shifters of their kind healed at a rate that would attract dangerous attention. “Since Mae is their healer, they had no one else to call.”

He didn't insult Elen by asking if she was okay to leave. Mae was one of her few friends before Cormack and her teacher before Ms. Hafwen. More than a teacher, really; Mae had comforted her when her own mother had done the Council's biddings. Burns were the worst form of injury, even if Mae healed faster than the human rate. She didn't have the ability to shift the damage away. If conscious, she was in excruciating pain.

There was no question of Elen going. “I'll need to gather a few things from my cottage,” she said.
Like a pixie.

Dylan nodded with understanding. “Porter will drive you.”

“I have my license,” Cormack mentioned in a defensive tone edged with annoyance.

And Elen was all too aware of why he wanted to be alone.

“All the same,” Dylan replied, “I would like Porter to check Avon's equipment and make sure all is working well. According to . . .” He cleared his throat, pausing to amend his instructions. “According to what I know of spirit traveling, we have a few days before Pendaran has fully regained his strength. You will be protected at Avon, but I don't want you traveling after tomorrow. Stay with Luc or come home, but make a decision within the next twenty-four hours. Porter will return either way in the morning.”

The men rode in the front of Porter's SUV, while Elen sat in the back with their bags. Having been in a hurry, they'd grabbed a few changes of clothes and her medical bag.
Plus a pixie.
But Ms. Hafwen seemed content to remain hidden in the tote that rested by Elen's feet while she slept off her earlier indulgence.

The vehicle smelled like leather and man, and a dark scent that was distinctly alpha. Yes, Porter had secrets, but they were not hers to know, so she wouldn't pry.

Making good time, they arrived in Avon well before midnight. A crisp wind traveled off the White Mountains, and the night offered clear skies. A waning moon cast a shimmering glow on jewel-colored woods. Elen couldn't help but admire the lush island as it came into view, with a castle hidden behind a healthy forest. A river acted as a natural moat, and a stone bridge provided the only entrance to the
island. Not long ago a battle had raged on that bridge, and the island had been nothing but broken trees and death, once starved and now whole as rightness replaced imbalance.

After parking next to a stone carriage house, Elen snagged the bag at her feet and walked to the back of the SUV. Understanding her intent, Cormack distracted Porter with conversations about Avon's defenses.

Turning her back, Elen said softly, “It's clear.”

Ms. Hafwen fluttered out and perched on the back bumper. “I will be leaving you for three days in your moon phase, but I will return.”

Elen bent as if to tie her shoe, and whispered, “Where are you going?” Though she had her suspicions. The newest gateway to the Land of Faery was on Avon's island.

“Home,” she confirmed. “Something has grown during your sleep, and I need answers that only my brethren can provide.”

“Why does that sound ominous?” And why did Elen suspect she had something to do with it?

Ms. Hafwen's hesitation didn't calm her apprehension. “Pendaran's weapon was encased with relics of a once-mighty oak tree,” she explained. “It was known in this world as the Druids' Great Oak. For the Fae, it was a Tree of Hope, and our most trusted gateway, before Ceridwen destroyed it.”

“I know the history of Cadarn,” Elen said. “And Nerth, its twin.” The latter weapon was now buried with its dead owner, or should be, if Math's burial had followed the tradition of their kind.

The pixie remained silent for a moment, as if contemplating how much to disclose. “I felt its rebirth when you fought Pendaran. The Great Oak grows again. Soon it may be strong enough for travel.”

“I grew a second gateway?” Elen felt a sudden urge to sit
down. “Is that bad?” What if Ceridwen had wanted it to stay destroyed? Or worse, what if it grew into something vile? “It's in Pendaran's territory.” That couldn't be good.

A breath of impatience fell from her tutor's mouth. “Your humility is a rare thing indeed, especially among your kind, but there is a place for confidence as well. You have given us a gift. All of Faery will be pleased. But this will turn Pendaran's interest into an obsession. The gateways offer power in its purest form, and untainted immortality; it will drive his madness to control you. While he's still weakened, I'm returning home to discuss plans for your safety.”

Honored but justly alarmed, Elen forced her emotions aside for the purpose she'd been called for. “Will you at least stay while I see to Mae?”

“I have full faith that you will do what needs to be done without my assistance. But do not listen to any of that woman's teachings while I'm away. We have made great strides in your learning, and I would hate to have our hard work foiled.”

The pixie shifted into her animal form after that final warning, flitting over the river as a winter wren. A farewell song pierced the air as she disappeared into the forest beyond, and Elen couldn't help but feel melancholy over her departure.

Gareth, Avon's porter, waited for them at the entrance of the bridge. A stoic man with dark hair. The patch he once wore no longer necessary now that he was allowed to shift. Like many of Avon's residents, he'd suffered tortures under his former Guardian's leadership and had been forced to bare his scars like a badge of dishonor. Thanks to Rosa and Luc, those times were in the past.

“Cormack,” Gareth greeted with a hearty pat on the back, still stern but not entirely humorless as he once was. Not
just the island was healing, although hearts took longer than earth. “Good to see you, but I wish it was under better circumstances. Porter,” he said next, “I have a list of questions for you when there's time.” Then he held out his arm to Elen, a courteous gesture to escort her over the bridge. “And you, Elen, are always welcome.”

Gareth had told her once that the people in Avon had lived too long under Guardian rule to fear her. Now that they knew her power, she'd wondered if they would, but his offered arm was a welcomed sign.

Cormack brushed the man away with a scowl, taking her hand in his, and received a chuckle from Gareth in return.

“I'm going to be losing money soon, I think,” Gareth said as they crossed the bridge. “Your former rooms have been prepared, but I will show you to Mae first.”

“How bad is she?” Elen asked, ignoring his reference to the wager.

Turning serious, he shared, “The worst I've seen.”

The walk wasn't long, but Elen increased her strides. Castell Avon soon came into view, with its medieval turrets and outer grounds now covered in lawn instead of dust. Guards nodded as they passed through the bailey, greeting Cormack mostly. He'd made friends during his stay here, and they were happy to see him return.

Luc and Rosa waited inside the entry hall. With ink-black hair and silver eyes, her brother resembled their father. He looked well, Elen noted as he scooped her into his usual gregarious hug.

“Are you okay?” Luc asked, no doubt having been fully informed of both Merin and Pendaran's visit.

“I am,” she assured him, turning to Rosa next. Luc's new wife wore a large sweater over loose pants, her makeshift garb while under Guardian control. Her features were
strained, as to be expected, but she offered a welcoming smile and opened her arms.

Elen accepted the second hug, and then sucked in her breath as the reason for the loose clothing became apparent, at least to her senses. The power of
two
shifters rose to greet her. She leaned back. “Rosa . . . ?”

Only Luc and Mae know,
she mouthed with a secret smile. “And my cousin,” Rosa said openly. “We will talk after you see Mae. I have questions.”

Luc's beaming expression made Elen suspect that more than just those four knew that Rosa was carrying his child. But children of their kind were so rare and often lost before term, not to mention hunted by the Guardians, so she understood their secrecy. Nonetheless, Elen gave her brother another quick hug before they brought her to Mae's temporary room.

The smell greeted her first, charred hair and flesh that hadn't been washed due to its fragile condition. Blessedly, Mae was unconscious. Elen had brought herbs to make a poultice, and other medications to alleviate some of the pain, but the damage was too great for such minor remedies. She already bore the scars of her years under Guardian rule; this final damage removed any remnants of her former features.

“The fire started from a gas lantern.” Luc spoke low from behind her. “It fell and broke by her feet, and the accelerant spread up her clothes. It was instant. We contained the fire to her room . . .”
But it was too late for the woman trapped within.
His lips pressed in a thin line as the result of the accident lay unconscious before them. “We're bringing electricity onto the island.” His determined tone suggested there had been a debate on the matter, but his decision was made. “I intend to make use of Porter's contacts while he's here. The construction will begin soon.”

Rosa approached the bed to stand beside Elen. “Can you help her?”

“I don't know,” she said, but leaving her like this wasn't an option. And Elen's powers weren't viable within the thick mortar and stone of Castell Avon. Understandably, there was no fire burning in the grate or windows open to air. Battery-operated lamps illuminated the room instead of the gas lanterns. Her feet stood on cold tiles, and the river ran a good distance away. There was nothing for her to call because nature was beyond these walls. “Find me a gurney or something that will suffice. I want her carried outside.”

“I know where there's one,” Gareth supplied without hesitation. “I'll be right back.”

A carrier was found; it was old and stained and probably used for unsavory purposes before Luc's time, but it was sufficient. “Do you have a stream close by, or a pool of water?” Elen asked around the room. “The river is too forceful for what I want to try.”

“Follow me,” Rosa said. Ignoring the residents of Avon who lined the hallways with curiosity and concern, she led the way out of the castle. They traveled on a meandering path lined with moss and leaves shadowed by night. Cormack and Luc carried Mae's unconscious form as reflective eyes of woodland creatures watched their progression through the trees.

The trail curved along a gently flowing stream that dipped to form a pool. On the outskirts grew a tree, a sapling no taller than Cormack, but it shimmered as if golden fireflies danced among its leaves. Its potency was like nothing she'd experienced to date, not even from Ms. Hafwen or Pendaran. It lured her like an enchanted song, offering promises of power and temptation from another world.

It was the Tree of Hope, she understood without question,
and the gateway to Faery. Ms. Hafwen had scolded her for her lack of confidence, but it seemed unbelievable that she had grown a second gateway such as this. Elen wasn't sure if the others recognized what it was, so she forced her gaze away. “Set her down on that bank.” She pointed to a flat surface close to the water's edge. Acting on instinct, Elen waded into the pool fully clothed. The water came chest-high, a sufficient depth, as she gestured to Cormack to roll Mae into her arms. When the water covered her body, Mae awakened and thrashed in disorientation—and then screamed.

The sound wrenched the night air with her agony. Leaves rustled as creatures scurried, and the Tree of Hope shuddered as if moved by an unseen wind or responding to a cry too anguished to ignore.

Luc stepped to the edge, ready to jump in, but Rosa held him back with a gentle hand.

“It's only me,” Elen soothed in a calm voice removed from what she felt, grasping Mae under her arms in a lock hold around her chest and keeping her head above water. She called to the forest, her element of Earth, and then the Water that surrounded them. Their energies rose, quicker than expected, and stronger too. That alone made her wary, but she had committed to this course and would see it through.

As always, she was merely a conduit, but the force of the power that greeted her almost sucked her under the water. Her feet sunk into the gravel bottom of the pool. As currents traveled over and through nerves, she held her ground and poured everything she received into her patient. Water cleansed and Earth fed broken flesh. Soon screams became disjointed wails, and then panted moans.

Ms. Hafwen had told her she'd know what to do, but this was an enchanted pool, by an otherworldly tree—and far beyond Elen's experience. Or her control. As charred skin
knotted into scars, she tried to unravel the joining. She pictured a braid, as her tutor had instructed many times, with her as one of the stands, along with the other two elements, and then attempted to disentangle them in her mind's eye. But the elements would not leave until the healing was good and truly done.

Within minutes, the energy dispersed as quickly as it had come, but not by Elen's doing, and not before Mae was fully healed; even old injuries had been replaced by new skin.

“Elen child.” Her former teacher's voice came as a hoarse murmur ragged with exhaustion. “I knew you would come.” Her hands lifted from the water to her face, now absent of all scars and baring a mature yet unmarred vestige of her former youth. She frowned. “What have you done?”

Elen shook her head, unwilling to accept credit. “It wasn't me.” She had the knowledge to heal some injuries with enchantments, and to heal using human procedures—but not to remove scars, and some of Mae's could very well be more than a thousand years old. “It's this pool.”

A magical pool by a blessed tree.

A shiver racked her spine, and not from awe or from the chilled waters that surrounded her. Pendaran would stop at nothing to gain access to such power.

And Elen was that access.