Rise of the Fey (29 page)

I stomp my foot on the ground, and gasp as a strange, bouncy resistance encounters it. My foot kicks forward and I slip, falling hard onto the flagstones.

“Some progress at last,” Lugh says.

“Progress?” I bark as Puck hops over to sniff at me. “I just fell down!”

A tendril of smoke wraps around my wrists and helps me up.

“You’re not concentrating,” Lugh says.

“Sorry,” I grumble.

“Don’t be sorry,” Lugh says impatiently. “Learn to control yourself.”

“So you keep repeating,” I say, rubbing my lower back.

“Are you sure you do not want to leave this place with me?” Lugh asks. “Our demesne in Avalon would be idyllic for your protection. At least until your training is over.”

“Which could take years,” I retort. “By which time the whole world might be pulverized to dust by Carman and that Mordred guy. Besides, I still need to find out about my—”

“Father, yes, I know.” Lugh sighs. “There are other ways to find out about him, you know.”

I stand straighter, my sore back forgotten. “You never mentioned that,” I say accusingly.

“You never asked.”

“You could have told me sooner,” I say, crossing my arms. “How can I trust you if you don’t tell me the truth about something that important?”

“A Fey cannot lie,” Lugh retorts calmly.

“I know,” I say. “I’ve felt the effects of that stupid law already. But one can get around it by not revealing the whole truth.”

“There is only one person who knows the whole truth and I am not sure she would want to talk to you,” Lugh says. “She has been somewhat of a recluse for the past eons, give or take a couple of thousand years. Of course, there have been a few rare exceptions….”

The door is suddenly thrown open, making Puck scurry away. Is the time up already? My eagerness morphs to annoyance as Arthur strides in, looking irate.

“What’s going on?” he asks. “And what are
you
doing here?” His eyes move back and forth between Lugh and me. “How did you get in here?”

“I was invited,” Lugh says. “How did you know to come here?”

Arthur throws a black pillow towards the Fey in response. The pillow lands on four paws and meows reproachfully before I recognize the black cat. Lugh’s cat, I realize, wanting for the second time tonight to punch myself silly for not connecting the dots sooner.

Puck dashes out of the shadows with a loud snort of excitement then comes to a sudden stop as the cat hisses in warning, ears down.

“Well I rescind your invitation,” Arthur says. “Please leave the same way you came or I’ll have you jailed.”

“Assuming you could even get your filthy hands on me, human,” Lugh retorts with seeming unconcern.

“You two can stop arguing now,” I tell them. “Arthur, Lugh’s here to train me.”

“I asked Lady Vivian to supervise your training,” Arthur says, “not have her bring an enemy inside our territory.”

“She can’t do it herself,” I say with growing frustration, “something about being weakened by the attack.”

“Then how come another Fey at the school can’t teach you?” Arthur asks.

“Because they don’t have the ability to contain her should things…get a little rough,” Lugh retorts. “As she cleverly demonstrated earlier today.”

Arthur narrows his eyes at him. “Not even the Watchers?”

Lugh shrugs. “They follow their leader’s orders, and his orders are for them to keep their vows, which include no fighting, and no training others in the art.”

“You seem awfully well aware of what the Watchers are up to,” Arthur says.

“Knowledge is a formidable weapon,” Lugh says with a slight shrug.

Out of the corner of my eye I see Puck’s gotten over his initial fear as he faints one way then jumps between Arthur’s legs to catch the cat’s tail in his pudgy hands. The feline meows, turns quickly around and scratches Puck’s face before jumping into the security of Lugh’s arms.

“Part of being Fey,” Lugh says, petting his cat, “is that we get to know things about each other in ways that common humans cannot.” He winks at me. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, your turn will come. Once you get a hang of your Fey side.”

I feel myself turn an incandescent red at Lugh’s unexpected lovey-dovey attitude towards me, and feel very grateful for the dim lighting in the room.

“I’m still not sold on you being here,” Arthur growls. “What’s to keep me from trapping you here instead? You could be a spy for all I know.”

“You are not powerful enough to take me on,” Lugh says, brushing some nonexistent dust from his shirt, “even with short-fuse over here.”

“Short-fuse?” I repeat, not sure if I should be offended or not.

“You do not seem able to call upon your powers unless you’re throwing some sort of temper tantrum,” Lugh explains.

Arthur’s lips quirk up. “I noticed that too. Couldn’t get the ogham to respond unless she was threatened.”

They both sigh at the same time while shaking their heads.

“You two can get off my back,” I say, definitely offended now.

“You’ve just got to repeat the situation until she gets a better hang of it,” Arthur tells Lugh, ignoring me entirely.

“Perhaps it’s a side effect from the seal,” Lugh says thoughtfully. “It could have repressed her natural instincts.”

“Hey,” I say louder. “I’m right here.”

I recoil as both of them look at me at the same time.

“You’ve got to get in tune with nature,” Lugh says.

“Really?” I say, oozing sarcasm. “And how should I do that? Become a hermit?”

“That could work,” Lugh says.

“But it seems impractical,” Arthur adds.

“You’ll be out in the open where anyone can attack you,” Lugh agrees.

“And I’m afraid solitary confinement, even if voluntary, has a tendency to drive people crazy,” Arthur finishes.

“How did you two become so chummy all of a sudden?” I ask, disgusted with the both of them. Do they really think this is easy for me?

“Well if Lady Vivian’s willing to trust him,” Arthur says, though with some difficulty, “I will try to do so as well. But let me ask you something”—he turns to Lugh—“why did you accept to train Morgan?”

The smile that had been lurking on Lugh’s face melts away. “Let’s just say I’m honor-bound,” he says.

Honor-bound? What is that supposed to mean? Is it because I happened to crash on of his parties? Or because we accidentally kissed once?

But before either Arthur or I can quiz him any further, the door opens up again to let in Lady Vivian, and Puck bounces over to his mistress to hang onto her skirts.

“I see you’re all acquainted,” she says brightly. “That’ll make things a lot easier.”

“I do wish you’d let me know about him beforehand,” Arthur says.

“We weren’t sure how well you’d receive that nugget of information,” says Lady Vivian, patting Puck on the head so he’ll stop clinging to her.

“I would think this is something a little more substantial than a nugget,” Arthur mutters.

I massage my head as the sharp pain from my migraine springs back to the forefront, making it difficult to concentrate on what’s going on. I gasp when a cool hand presses against my forehead.

“What is he doing now?” Arthur asks, reaching for his sword.

“Just a little feverish,” Lugh says, his breath tickling my neck. “It will get better once you figure out how not to use your own energy to source your powers anymore.”

He pulls away, taking my headache away with him.

“What did you do?” I ask, amazed.

“Just gave you a little boost,” Lugh says. “Like I said, once you figure out how to link up to the Aether, you’ll be free to use up as much energy as you want. Well, with some restrictions, but now is not the time to get into details.”

“Aether?” I ask. “What is that? Some sort of magic current I need to plug into to recharge?”

“Same place, same time tomorrow,” Lugh whispers without bothering to answer me. And with a slight nod towards Lady Vivian, he’s gone again.

“There’s no portal in here, is there?” Arthur asks, scanning the floor and walls meticulously.

Lady Vivian lets out a tinkling laugh. “Of course not, that would be too dangerous. He got here as you and I would, on his own two feet.”

“The catacombs,” I say. Then, remembering my own attempted escape from Lake High, I add, “He came here through the tunnels.”

Arthur grunts, then notices the book tucked under Lady Vivian’s arm.

“Gauvain told me you had questions about it,” Lady Vivian says, handing him the thick volume,
Milites Fabulae
written in large on its cover.

“There’s a passage that caught my attention,” Arthur says, riffling through the pages. “Here. It says that when all the children of God came together, the world seemed as it was in the times before the fall of the Tower of Babel: Everyone working together towards a single goal. And thus the evil plight that represented Carman was banished from this plane.”

Lady Vivian nods, her long, loose curls falling over her shoulder.

“Which reminded me of the words from her stele,” Arthur continues, encouraged. “’Four men to raise the stones their blood did shed, Four Fey their essence over the cairns did spread, Four of the Nephilim to Avalon’s protection their lives vowed, And Danu, to seal the spell, her power over all bestowed.’ Doesn’t that mean that Fey, humans and Nephilim, all children of God, joined hands to vanquish Carman?”

“It could,” Lady Vivian says. “But I am not the one to ask, as I wasn’t yet around when it happened, and you just let the one who could answer you go.”

“What’s a Nephilim?” I ask, before they can delve any deeper into their confusing talk.

Arthur glances over his shoulder at me. “Don’t you remember the passage in Genesis? ‘Now it came about, when men began to multiply on the face of the land, and daughters were born to
them, that the sons of God saw that the daughters of men were beautiful; and they—”

“—took wives for themselves, whomever they chose,” I finish. “But weren’t they just a name for a race of giants?”

“They are the result of the unholy union between humans and angels,” Arthur says. He freezes, looking at me sheepishly.

“An unholy union like the one between my own parents,” I say, stung. “Thank goodness I didn’t turn out to be a giant, huh? Would’ve been a lot harder to hide me then.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Arthur says, looking pleadingly at Lady Vivian.

But Lady Vivian is already gone, leaving Puck behind.

“Any other insult you might want to throw at me?” I ask, picking the hobgoblin up to stop him from chewing on my boots.

“Yes,” Arthur says. “I mean no. What I meant was…about Agravain. I wanted you to know I’ll make sure he receives the appropriate punishment for what he did to you.”

“Don’t,” I say, tickling Puck until he starts snorting convulsively. “It’ll only make the division between you guys bigger, and I don’t want you to blame me for getting kicked out of KORT.”

“His actions speak for themselves,” Arthur says, piqued. “And attacking my squire is insult enough.”

“Then stop adding fuel to the fire!” I exclaim. “The school’s already weak enough, and though I hate to admit it, it’s best for everyone around if you’re President instead of that vile pack of flees.” Puck clucks his tongue questioningly at my heated tone, and I pat his round belly to soothe him. “Not you, silly,” I tell the hobgoblin with a smile.

“I can’t let him parade around school as if nothing happened,” Arthur says. “Not when it puts you in danger.”

My breath catches in my throat at his ardent tone. Slowly, I raise my gaze to Arthur’s stern face. Despite the shadows, his eyes hold an intensity that makes me squirm. I clear my throat self-consciously, when we suddenly hear the angry rumble of voices outside our room.

“You are the last person I want to see near that demon!”

The tone is so virulent I have a hard time placing the speaker, but there’s not a trace of doubt in my mind as to who this ‘demon’ is, and that kind of reduces my choices.

“Out of all the knights out there, you should be showing me the most loyalty,” Jennifer continues, her voice filtering through the closed door like it’s made of paper.

“I did not think my actions put my loyalty in question,” Lance says.

“I already have to give way to your relentless pursuit of glory in the name of your dead brother,” Jennifer snarls, “I don’t want to have to place a changeling ahead as well.”

“You don’t,” Lance says curtly. “And do not speak of Gale like that. He was worth a thousand of your ruling families put together.”

“I’m sorry,” Jennifer says, so softly I’m forced to lean forward to hear her. “I didn’t mean to. You know how I hate having Morgan hovering around you, it’s already bad enough Arthur’s picked her as a squire.”

I look over at Arthur—though I’ve known about Lance and Jennifer getting together behind his back, I’ve never dared mention it to him. But Arthur catches my worried look and sets his index finger over his lips conspiratorially.

“You knew all along!” I exclaim, shocked out of my wits.

Outside, the voices grow quiet. Arthur expels a deep sigh and pulls the door open to uncover the quarreling pair. If it weren’t
for Lance’s stricken look, I’d relish Jennifer’s utter consternation the whole second it lasts before it dissolves at my sight.

“What were you two doing in there?” she asks, her brow furrowed.

“Training my squire,” Arthur retorts. “I would ask you the same but you’ve already made it abundantly clear.”

My gaze sweeps around the trio uncertainly.

“The more you associate yourself with that tramp the more you’re tainting your blood, Arthur,” Jennifer says.

“You should know a man’s worth isn’t linked to his blood,” Arthur replies calmly. “After all, our families didn’t start at the top, did they?”

Jennifer grinds her teeth together. “Is that what you tell yourself to excuse your incompetence?” She points at me. “If it weren’t for that piece of trash right here, KORT wouldn’t be in shambles right now.” She looks straight at me then, her pale blue eyes filled with so much loathing I’m momentarily left winded. “I wish you’d sat in the Siege Perilous instead of that stupid boy.”

The slap comes quick and loud like a gunshot.