Catch & Hold-Legend (Legend series) (21 page)

Danté asked in a low voice, “Does this have something to do with your atmosphere, Chance—or perhaps your weather here on Dravo?”

“No … I don’t know what the devil this is—and I doona like it …”

And then we found out exactly what it was!

The air waves exploded with dark smoke and then turned into a tornado that didn’t move from ground to sky but across the sky. It was a huge diameter of black, and it spiraled off a heavy mist. We saw it open and knew it was some kind of a tunnel. I could only imagine it was a tunnel between us and the Dark Realm. I felt it in my bones.

I was preparing myself for Gaiscioch to step through with an army of his Dark Fae, when I was totally thrown off balance.

It was not Gaiscioch but
Pestale
and his three brothers who stepped boldly out of the strange black swirl. Their death swords were up and pointed our way. Let me repeat, each had a death sword!

Like what the heck? First of all, where did they get four death swords? Had they created the weapons from artifacts the Dark King had left behind? What was with this Dark King anyway? He’d created a horrible world and then, what—just threw up his hands and said
, I’m outta here
? Not very responsible of him, but then he didn’t think like us. So off he went, designing and producing these Dark Royals with all the powers of a Royal, but didn’t bother to rein them in when he saw they were evil. It didn’t make sense to me, not after I had been with his mate, Crystal.

No time for philosophy, however, as Pestale, with two brothers on his left and one on his right, took a stance, a very threatening stance. Pestale said on a hard note, “Ah … not the Human Realm—somehow my coordinates were off, but never mind, it will do nicely as a launching pad for
our
endeavors.”

* * *

All hell broke loose! I mean those were fighting words to people like the Milesians. After all, they had stood up against the mighty Seelie Fae at a time when they weren’t quite as powerful as they are now.

I wondered why Chance had not called on any of his men, but then perhaps he thought we were evenly matched. I wasn’t so sure and, at that point, not caring too much about fair.

I saw Chance and Danté jump into position. Trevor was trying to shield both me and Lana; neither one of us wanted to be shielded, so he had a thankless job.

Our own death swords were already in our hands and pointed lethally at our adversaries. We stood ready at the core, but the Dark Princes had a strategy of their own.

They shifted in and out and all around, slashing aimlessly as they (I suppose) meant to throw us off our game and off balance. They should have known better. We each were steady and on their Dark scent, which preceded them when they shifted.

Rolo was saying something in a low voice I couldn’t hear so I was a bit impatient when I answered him. “What, Rolo? Kinda busy here!”

“Don’t go for Pestale—go for one of the others,” Rolo said on a hushed note. “Pestale is way different than his brothers.”

“Your disc talks?” Lana asked on a laugh, as though we weren’t in serious trouble.

“Yup … Seelie Hallow.”

She nodded and moved away from the fray. With her sword up and aimed she worked the outer circle, protecting our backs. I was again impressed with her cool and skilled style, but there was no time for more observations as Pestale was suddenly close—way too close. As I spun around he jumped back with a laugh, avoiding the blade of my death weapon.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw that Danté and Chance were busy with two of his brothers while Trevor had taken on the third.

Pestale witnessed my glance and laughed harshly. “That’s right, Daoine … no help from that quarter, but
you
don’t have to fear me—I don’t want you dead, at least not until you have had a chance to change your ways.”

“Change my ways? I kinda like my ways.” I tried to buy time with banter and figure out how to go after him since my sword was oddly quiet, which I had discovered meant it hadn’t figured out just how to get past a given problem. Right then, my problem was Pestale and his speed of movement. I noted to myself that he was faster than his brothers, a great deal faster.

“Do you, beauty—like your ways? Well, once you are mine, we shall see, Radzia MacDaun, if I allow you to retain
some
of who you are,” he answered, willing to play. “I have watched you in Morrigu’s orb and have made a decision to have you.”

“Have you?” I was inching around him, my sword blocking any blow he might have in mind.

“You will be the first of my consorts, for as long as you please me. You shall have only one above you, my Queen Morrigu, but I shall make you comfortable and teach you many things. You have but to join me, for mine is the winning side.”

“Sorry, fella. First of all, I’m already spoken for, and secondly … there is only one side for me, and it’s not with you.” I tilted my head at him and gave him a look that said I found him no more than an abomination, in spite of his ‘to die for’ looks.

“Soon you will change your mind …
or die.
It will be your choice.”

“That’s right, my choice, and I give myself a wider range than you can imagine,” I said.

He was emitting the sexual power that he believed was impossible to resist, and it would be if I were human. I was a Daoine Royal, and I was in love with Danté.
Nuff said.
So I added just for emphasis and because I wanted to throw him off his silly game
,
“You might as well turn it off—
it isn’t happening
.”

His face became a mask of not anger but bitterness as he said, “
Then die!
”

“Not today,” I threw back at him, only a little worried about his death sword aimed skillfully at my heart. I had a clear thought of Gais and wondered if he knew the Dark Royals each had a death sword. I didn’t think so. My conclusion was they had been busy little beavers all on their own.

I shifted behind him, but he spun around ready for me and laughed, though it was a rough and threatening sound. I shifted above and hovered a few feet above the ground (another new trick my Royal Daoine blood has taught me) and leveled my death sword at the top of his handsome, evil head, but he shifted out of range. This was frustrating, but Rolo had said Pestale would be difficult.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw that Trevor was in trouble. He was young and had never encountered hand-to-hand with a Dark Royal whose power stemmed from black magic. He wasn’t using his shifting skill quickly enough, and I saw the Dark Royal come way too close to catching him with the sword. Even a slight scratch from the death sword would be enough to kill a Fae, any Fae.

The Dark Royal Trevor was trying to fight wasn’t quite as tall, but he was very deft with his movements, his patience, and his sword. Trevor was young and too exuberant, with not enough skill. He had allowed his success killing the uglies to go to his head. They were no contest, and this fight was very different.

Danté’s back was turned so I sent him a message with the link we had between us, but each time he tried to turn towards Trevor, his own Dark opponent engaged him.

I decided to forgo my fight with Pestale and shift to Trevor and help him. Pestale, obviously realizing my intent, blocked my path and said, “Oh no … let the Seelie fight his own battle.”

And then I saw Lana. No one had noticed her in the background, waiting her chance to join the battle and help Trevor.

Sword in hand, quietly, stealthily Lana had shifted behind the Dark Royal who had jabbed way too close at Trevor. Before I or he knew what she was about, she was shoving her death sword into the Unseelie Royal.

He roared with the pain that shot through his body, and he looked towards Pestale as though asking for his help. His arms went out and his hands opened towards his oldest brother as he dropped to his knees.

Pestale shifted to him and was there holding him as the Dark Royal collapsed in his arms. “
No … not you
!” Pestale cried as he turned to us, and his voice filled the atmosphere. It was like a hundred powerful male voices bellowing with fury. “My youngest, my dearest brother! You all … shall pay!”

We stood apart from them as they converged on their fallen brother. We could have used the moment to attack and destroy, but that would have been cruel—ruthless, which I’ve been told you need to be in war.

We would live to regret our kindness.

However, at that moment Pestale was in the throes of grief as he growled in genuine agony, “Nooo … nooo—not you!”

As we stood back, I realized how many thousands of years these four had spent together with little other company. They had not encountered illness or injury to themselves.

Again, we could have ended it there in a final attack, but we stood away and watched Pestale cradle his brother in his arms … not able to take advantage of the situation. It was
who we were
,
and even if it was a mistake, I am proud of it.

Pestale leveled a look at Lana. “He was my youngest—and
you will
die by my hand.” He looked at us all and said, “
You will all die!
”
And then the three of them vanished with their fallen brother.

We looked at one another, and Chance said, “We have to ward Dravo against them …”

“You won’t be able to ward Dravo against them. They are Dark, yes, but Royals all the same. We can’t ward against them at Tir, and neither can you,” Danté said, gritting his teeth. “Remember—that’s how we have been able to come and go from Dravo although you had it warded against Fae. Your wards don’t work against Royals. You will need to have guards set about your village night and day.”

“Aye then.” Chance started off but turned around and hesitated before he spoke to Danté. “We are in this with ye, Danté, to the end. But now, I have to fetch m’father … this thing you call a Royal has threatened m’sister!”

Trevor went to Lana, took her hand, and dropped a kiss at her fingers. “You saved my life.”

“Not really—you probably would have been able to finish him yourself. I just saw the opportunity and took it.”

“Brave lass,” Trevor said. Their eyes locked, and I was pretty sure that in that moment, none of us existed in the world they had just entered.

Chance watched them for a quick moment, pulled a face, and looked Trevor over head to foot. He said, “Time for ye to leave, lad … m’sister has things to do at home.”

Trevor almost stumbled as he walked away from her, turned, and looked back. No one doubted what was going on there: puppy love.

What a crazy thing, I thought. In the midst of all this terror and gore and blood,
puppy love
.

* * *

Ete was still, we assumed, closeted with Queen Mab in Daoine, and we hoped that Mab would allow us to join them. Danté and I shifted to Queen Mab’s palace, but we were asked to take a seat in the waiting room.

It seemed forever as the time clicked by, and we didn’t have that much time. Halloween was nearly about to explode. We didn’t have a choice, as we needed Queen Mab’s help. We couldn’t get to Aaibhe’s orb without Queen Mab’s direction. However, a Fae of the queen’s court soon appeared and told us that the queen could not see us just yet and that we were needed in Dublin.

We looked at one another, shrugged, and shifted—I should say, I held Danté’s hand, and he shifted us because he knew where to go. He always seems to know where to go. He is, you see, quite amazing.

Soon we were huddled with Nuad, Breslyn, Trevor, and Chancemont in a pub in Dublin, gathered around a round table talking strategy. We were dealing with a two-front war, and that is never good.

We had Dark Royals with vengeance on their mind at our backs and Gaiscioch holding our queen coming at us from who knew where.

They had ready armies about to pounce, and we had no idea where they would choose as their first battleground.

Thus, without knowing how or where the two armies would converge on us, we decided we knew it was going to happen within hours, and we assumed that Gaiscioch would still stick to his plans outlined on the maps I had seen.

Halloween, as I think of it—or Samhain as the Fae think of it—was only a few more hours away. It was still October thirtieth, but midnight was coming up fast.

None of us had slept, but no matter; I’d been told we Fae didn’t need sleep.
I still
did, though
 … human habits died hard.

We were deep in discussion at the table when all at once in sauntered this young thing dressed in jeans and a pretty blue tank top. All eyes turned her way, but it was Trevor who jumped to his feet. “Lana … what are you doing here?”

“Go home, minx,” her brother ordered sharply.

She grabbed a chair from another table and plopped down next to me, and I laughed as I looked at Chance. “She is growing up with a mind of her own—better get used to it.” I was about four or five years older, but I felt ancient next to the bubbly thing.

“Are ye too old to listen to yer dear brother then? Does age make ye forget yer manners, lass?”

“I can’t always take orders from you, Chance. I am going to be eighteen next month, and it is time you realized—I killed a Dark Royal today, and I think that earned me the right to sit at this table.” She turned to Trevor. “Don’t you think so, Trevor?”