Caledonia Fae 03 - Enemy of the Fae (12 page)

Munro turned to Griogair. “Didn’t you say the queen had received threats?”

Griogair nodded slowly, “Yes, but I doubt this poison was intended for the queen. It’s more logical to assume this is an attack on her credibility. The deaths will trouble the superstitious and those who wish to cling to the old ways. This tragic event will strike fear in many.”

Galen tilted her head to concede the point. “Already some wish to cancel planned royal visits, while hoping not to anger Her Majesty, in case she can strike from afar.”

“I must find a way to make this right, to soothe their fears,” Eilidh said.

“Now is not the time, my love,” Griogair said gently, sitting beside her. “I know your heart bleeds.” He glanced at Munro, who felt solidarity with the prince despite his own feelings for Eilidh. “Send me. I represent the old ways because of my family and my earth talents and the new because of our union.”

“Galen?” Eilidh asked.

With a thoughtful nod, the elder said, “I agree with His Highness’ suggestion. A thoughtful plan.”

Eilidh glanced at the other conclave leaders, who indicated their agreement one by one. “Very well,” she said with a soft sigh.

Griogair squeezed her hand then kissed it. “You may rely on me.” He stood. “By your leave, I will prepare for the journey.”

She offered a weak smile. “Thank you, Griogair. Take a contingent of Watchers with you. Both for your safety and to offer some show of protection for the people of Nir Doute, in the event this does prove to be an outside attack.”

“A good idea,” Setir said. “And more healers.”

“Agreed,” Griogair said. With a sharp bow to the queen, he left.

“As long as you have his support,” Galen said, “his influence will go a long way to protecting your throne.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Munro said, sensing a subtle threat.

With a raised eyebrow, the elder faerie said, “Exactly what I said.”

Eilidh held up a hand to interrupt the exchange. “I am indeed fortunate to have such a devoted mate.” Switching tacks, she said, “The conclave should discuss what kind of memorial will be appropriate for the dead of Nir Doute. They should be honoured. I will leave the families to hold private death rites, but the entire kingdom will grieve such an enormous loss to our people. Please keep me informed of your ideas and decisions.” She respectfully signalled their dismissal.

Munro sensed her exhaustion. Thinking how much she carried alone pained him. When the last of the elders left, he approached and sat beside her. He slipped his arm around her and let her lean on his shoulder. “I’ve missed you so much,” he whispered.

“I’ve missed the reassuring strength I feel through our bond,” she replied. “I hadn’t thought the portal to the Halls of Mist would so strongly affect our connection. I found the loss unpleasant.”

“But necessary?” he asked. After his chat with Griogair, Munro recognised he hadn’t been sent away just because the prince wanted time to seduce Eilidh.

She moved to stand, but Munro held her hand, not letting her step too far away from him. She looked away, confirming something troubled her.

“You have been implicated in Leith’s death,” she said.

“What?” Munro stood and turned her shoulders, forcing her to look at him.

“When I looked into the Watcher’s mind,” she said, “I saw some of what he did. You visited the prisoner moments before his death. The Watcher did not consciously recall your face, but I saw the memory plainly.”

“Impossible,” Munro said. His mind reeled. “Eilidh, you can’t think I would do anything like that. I swear to you—”

“I know,” she interrupted. “Someone of azuri talents committed this murder. I’m certain on that point. Otherwise the Watcher would not have forgotten your face. He appeared disoriented and confused but unaware of what had been done to him. Leith’s killer was clever enough to disguise himself, but not clever enough to realise he left obvious marks of his talent behind. On the other hand, perhaps he was simply too arrogant to believe anyone would detect such subtle traces. He burned the empty rune on the prison wall, likely hoping to implicate someone ignorant of our writings.”

“In other words, me,” Munro said flatly.

“But he made the mark using a fire incantation, where you possess no fire talents. He forgot that unlike the fae, druids have not even a drop of ability outside their own spheres. So he knows
of
you, but he does not know you well.”

“Then why choose me? Why not another faerie?”

“Likely because of your association with me. The true nature of our intimate relationship isn’t known, and yet the strength of our bond is plain for all to recognise. Perhaps he hoped if he implicated you, he might drive a wedge between us, perhaps even force the conclave to expel you from the kingdom or worse.”

Munro sensed her deep concern and realised she was only speaking half the truth. “If they had me executed…”

“Without you, I am weaker.” Bonding with a druid gave Eilidh access to all spheres of earth power, where azuri only possessed weak ability with earth flows. The ancient linking magic also increased her astral abilities by four-fold at least.

“You sent me away to protect me,” he said.

“Partly,” she said but didn’t explain further. “Spending all your nights in the library must’ve been boring for you. Unless you found some other diversion.”

He took her letter from his pocket. “This helped,” he said, unfolding the paper gently and running his fingers over the rune. “I could practically feel your passion thrumming.” He was surprised no one had ever mentioned Eilidh had developed some talent in rune-making. On the other hand, a few weeks ago, he wouldn’t have understood how special the ability was.

“You had it translated? Quinton, no one can know.”

“I didn’t have to,” he said.

“What?”

He wasn’t sure how to explain without sounding a fool, and he remembered the keepers’ warnings about revealing what he read on the Killbourne Wall. But he and Eilidh already kept too many secrets from one another. He would at least share what he’d discovered about himself. “I have something for you in my room. Let me bring it to your chamber.”

She shook her head. “Griogair has gone. He cannot help us cover for your presence alone in my private rooms. Even in this receiving room, we shouldn’t linger too long.” She glanced at the door.

“Nothing will keep me away from you come dawn,” Munro said. “I miss you, and the Watchers and servants and any gossip-mongers can go to the devil, for all I care.” He took her hand and planted a kiss on her palm.

She traced her fingertips along his face and gave a weary smile. “What will I do about you, Quinton?”

“Take me to your bed, Your Majesty. Making love is the only cure for what ails us tonight.” He slipped a hand to the small of her back and drew her close. “Confuse the Watchers. Make them think I left. Just this once, I think no one will notice if they can’t find me.”

Eilidh nodded, appearing relieved at the suggestion. “Just this once.”

Eilidh walked the private corridor to her rooms. She absent-mindedly acknowledged the Watchers, then stepped back after passing through the door. “My druid is bringing me a message in a few moments. Allow him and no other to pass. I need to rest.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” the Watcher replied, putting his fist to his chest and bowing.

She grumbled when she went back into the rooms. Griogair helped her so much. He guided the servants into giving her more space, telling them not to hover, but to wait until summoned. She imagined they still hovered, but at least now they did so out of sight. At a normal dawn when Eilidh would prepare for rest, she would send a thought-message to the head steward, and he would direct her attendants to help her undress. At first they had been quiet and intimidated, but slowly the young faerie women relaxed and sometimes even made light conversation. Eilidh doubted they would have dared to do so with Queen Cadhla.

Tonight, however, she wasn’t in the mood for their chatter. Instead Eilidh struggled with the fastenings on the back of her dress alone. She wished she still owned the jeans and hoodie she’d worn as an exile in the human world. In those days, she’d spent her time alone. For twenty-five years she’d hardly spoken to a soul. She had kept to the shadows, doing her best to stifle the abilities that back then meant a death sentence for any faerie. Griogair understood she couldn’t go from being an outcast to becoming the most important figure in the kingdom without time to adjust. He had been a gentle and patient mate.

Munro had grown so deeply entrenched in her heart, she refused to contemplate life without him. So it surprised her how much affection she’d developed for Griogair. When the azuri conclave arranged their union, she refused at first, never imagining how close she and her mate would become. Munro loved her passionately, lived in her mind and heart every moment, but Griogair supported her in a different way.

“You’re thinking about your husband,” Munro said from the doorway.

Eilidh jumped. She’d been so lost in thought, she’d not noticed him approaching despite their bond.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

She exhaled loudly. “It’s shameful a human
could
sneak up on me. I’ve lost my instincts, living like this.” She gestured around at the chamber walls. Prior to her exile, she’d trained as a common Watcher.

“Perhaps you’ve grown so accustomed to me, you don’t view me as a threat,” he countered, leaning against the heavy door frame. “What about Griogair had you so enraptured?”

Eilidh sensed a quiet discomfort in Munro. “He’s been good to me these past moons,” she said.

“He’s in love with you.” Munro looked away, his blue eyes turning pale as the sun’s rays began to stream through the window with the dawn.

“I know,” Eilidh said, reaching out to Munro. “But this is the least of my worries.”

Munro took her hands and drew them to his chest, then encircled her in an embrace. “It needn’t be a worry. You love him too. Isn’t that what you were thinking when I walked in? Did you believe I could be in your mind and not know how you felt?”

She searched Munro’s eyes and saw no pain or jealousy, only a slight insecurity. Her druid had no status in the kingdom and was only tolerated because he had Eilidh’s favour. No one understood their deep connection, except perhaps Tràth and Douglas, because they experienced something similar with each other. Eilidh didn’t think Tràth and Douglas were lovers, although another pairing, Cridhe and Jonathan, had been before they died.

Eilidh ran a hand along Munro’s face and understood his worries. “No one could take your place, Quinton.”

“You’re not denying you love him,” Munro said.

“How can I?” It was a strange conversation, Eilidh thought absently, and not one she’d anticipated. The kingdom had been cast into turmoil. Many had lost their lives simply to discredit her. Someone wanted to frame Munro for murder. Oron, the head of the azuri half of the joint conclave, was furious over what happened to his granddaughter. Yet here she stood, thinking about the men she loved. What kind of queen was she to be so selfish?

“If ever…” Munro hesitated as though to bolster himself. “If ever you wanted him to stay the day with you while you rest, instead of me, I’d understand.” He kept talking, fumbling over his words. “I know you can do what you like. I mean, you’re the queen. You don’t need my permission. I’m just saying I get it.”

She wanted to rescue him from his babble, but she stared at him, stunned at his offer. Faeries didn’t routinely practice monogamy. It wasn’t their way. The royals mated for life, so she would have Griogair by her side for centuries to come. No one expected them not to bed who they liked. His race was the only reason they kept her affair with Munro secret. No queen could take a human lover, especially not a human many already thought had too much influence in Caledonian affairs. Besides, she’d only been mated to Griogair six moons, and the stories of their passion for one another abounded. With so many other problems in the kingdom, the tales of the love the queen and her consort shared pleased many.

“Eilidh?” he said tentatively. “Is that what you want?”

“I love you more than life,” she said suddenly and kissed him with passion and fervour. “I need to be with you. Come to my bed.”

Munro broke into a wide smile. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

She finished undressing and walked naked to the adjoining bed chamber. Her large swing-bed dominated the room, and she slid into it, motioning for Munro to follow.

He removed his shirt, and Eilidh enjoyed the sight of him, as she so often did. The Otherworld had given his skin a lustrous sheen, making him appear healthier and more powerful. His form remained essentially human, and she marvelled at his musculature. More than anything, the depths of his love for her stunned and humbled her. How could she deserve these two men who gave her so much, who supported her and cared for her? She feared disappointing them more than failing the hopes and expectations of the hundreds of thousands whom she ruled.

Her druid sat on the edge of the bed and kissed her softly. His caresses quickly fuelled his passions, and he became hungrier and more demanding. After a few glorious moments, he pulled away. “I have something for you.” He reached for a table beside the bed and retrieved a small, enveloped object. With patient care, he unwrapped a piece of black stone and handed it to her with reverence.

Eilidh sat up. As soon as she saw the slate, she recognised the timbre of Munro’s magic. She accepted the stone and ran her hands along its cool surface. Although the rune was not part of her written vocabulary, the powerful intent inscribed within sang the word to her. The artefact was like nothing she’d touched before. It screamed with ripe power. “
Draoidh
,” she whispered.

Munro grinned. “Pretty cool, huh?”

She glanced at him, then the power of the stone drew her gaze back. “Cool,” she repeated. “Quinton,
cool
doesn’t even begin to express how remarkable this is. The power imbued within…I can feel your magic, but how did you accomplish it? Even I don’t have the ability to create a rune of such clarity, and Oron says my gift is strong.” She glanced up at him. “Our race is losing the talent for rune creation.” Her mind whirred.
A human who creates runes? The keepers must be beside themselves
, she thought.