The Phoenix Charm (4 page)

Cordelia sat in the back of the Range Rover with Tamsy on her lap and Finian strapped in a baby car seat on her left. Michael drove, with Arian sitting in the front passenger’s seat beside him.

They traveled along the narrow Cornish lanes, the high banks on either side of the road blocking the moonlight . Michael kept up a stream of cheerful banter for Finian about everything from Winnie the Pooh to what dinosaurs ate. Despite this entertainment, Finian whimpered and whined, holding out his arms every time Michael glanced around.

When Cordelia tried to wipe Fin’s nose, he batted her hand away and cried louder. In the end, she gave up, her chest aching to see the stream of tears running down his plump pink cheeks, wetting his blue sleeper. She stroked Tamsy, wondering if she lacked some vital maternal ability. Not that she would ever need to be maternal. She could never have a n intimate relationship with a man. The nearest thing she’d have to a son was her ward, Thorn.

She leaned forward and peered out the windshield at the two spheres of light scooting through the darkness ahead of the car like sentient fireworks. “Are you sure they know where they’re going?”

Arian gave her an indignant glare. In the dark, his pale blue eyes glowed eerily. “In our light form all gatekeepers are attuned to the Underworld. They can sense the illegal breach.”

Illegal breach. Pompous oaf.
Cordelia focused on her irritation,
let the anger hold back her fear. She hung on to Tamsy, and braced herself against Fin’s seat as the car swerved around a sharp bend in the road. Up ahead, the light orbs paused at a farm gate. Cordelia swallowed, her throat tight with anxiety as Michael swung the SUV onto a bumpy track. She peered out the windshield. “Can you sense if anything dangerous has escaped from the Underworld?”

Arian gave her a derisive glance. “Nothing leaves the Underworld without the king’s permission.”

The tension in Cordelia’s shoulders eased a bit, even though her annoyance escalated. He could have told her that earlier. “Why are you so worried about this gate, then?”

His eyes flicked from her face to her cat, as if he thought the cat were the more intelligent. “A gate provides entry as well as exit,
wise woman.
”

“You think someone might try to sneak
into
the Underworld? Are you mad?” she asked. Michael met her gaze in his rearview mirror and rolled his eyes in sympathy. She exhaled, releasing much of her anxiety.

The headlights illuminated a granite farmhouse tucked against a grassy hill.

“There’re no lights in the windows,” Michael observed, with a glance at Arian. “I can’t sense any humans, so I’m thinking ’tis safe to stop here.”

How could he sense humans? She’d never heard of such a thing. Fairies sensed each other’s psychic signature, but humans didn’t have a strong enough presence to detect.

“All out,” Arian commanded.

“ ’Tis best Cordelia stays here with Finian. But I’ll be coming with you,” Michael said, walking around the car as she climbed out.

Relieved she could stay with Fin, she stretched her legs and surveyed the murky outline of the rolling hills and spiky trees.

“The child comes,” Arian said in a tone that brooked no argument.

“I’m not agreeing. Not in a month of Sundays,” Michael said.

Before Cordelia could climb back inside the car, Michael shut the door so Arian couldn’t reach Fin. The two light orbs transformed into Dai and Olwyn, and all three gatekeepers advanced on Michael.

He maintained his relaxed pose. “The child will be staying in the car,” Michael stated in a voice laced with so much compulsion, Cordelia momentarily lost all sense of where she was, concern for Fin’s safety flooding her mind.

Although the Teg were now wise to Michael’s silver tongue, even they paused and looked bewildered.

Arian recovered first. He stepped forward, but instead of going for Michael, he grabbed Cordelia’s arm, catching her by surprise. Shock sparked along her nerves as he yanked her toward him, slamming her back to his chest, gripping her upper arms in a punishing hold. His hands pressed deathly cold against her skin. Goose bumps raced up and down her arms.

“Bring. The. Child.” The chill of Arian’s breath numbed the back of her head.

All traces of humor fell from Michael’s face and he stilled. Even the breeze that had been flirting with his hair disappeared. “I’ll not let you go putting the child in danger.”

“He’ll be safe,” Arian ground out. “But if you defy me, the woman will not.” His spiky silver fingertips slid around her throat. Points of pain pierced her neck, needled into her head. She clenched her teeth to stop from crying out.

Michael’s stricken gaze darted from her face to Arian’s grip on her neck, and his jaw tensed. “You have made enemies this night.” He cut the gatekeeper a threatening sideways glance and then opened the car door.

Arian thrust Cordelia away. She huddled beside Michael against the car, her thoughts mired in shock.

“You all right, lass?” Michael stroked her cheek, then gently pushed her head to one side and examined her neck.

She rubbed her throat, and her fingers came away sticky with blood. Then she caught sight of Arian’s impatient expression. With a stuttering breath, she straightened. “I’m fine. I love being assaulted at night in the middle of nowhere.”

“She’ll live. Stop making a fuss.” Arian took a step toward the car and Fin.

Michael moved to cut him off. “Don’t even think about touching him.”

Despite her bravado, Cordelia trembled. A premonition of disaster drifted through her like a ghost while she watched Michael release Fin from his seat and gather the sleepy child into his arms.

They trudged across a wet, muddy field, water seeping into her shoes, dirt sticking to the hem of her dress. The Teg seemed to have no trouble seeing in the dark. Thank the Luna goddess the moon was waxing gibbous, nearly full. Every time the clouds broke for a few seconds, the moon gave just enough light to see where they were heading.

The clouds parted and Cordelia’s pulse leaped at the sight of a monstrous creature crouched on the hilltop. With a shot of relief that almost buckled her knees, she realized the shape was an excavating machine abandoned beside the dark maw of a hole.

“We’ve arrived,” Dai announced. But there was nothing to see. Cordelia had expected a dark swirling breach in the air, or at least something resembling a gate. They gathered along the muddy rim of the wide trench. Dai pointed to a toppled megalith half submerged in water lying in the bottom of the hole.

“Ruddy Badba. There are two humans near the stone.” Michael pushed Fininto her arms and ran along the edge of the trench toward the rock.

“Humans,” Olwyn said with distaste. “Probably dead. The gate must have drained the life from them when they uncovered it.”

Fear slashed through Cordelia. She stepped back, clutching Finas he twisted in her arms to watch Michael. “Keep away from the megalith, Michael,” she shouted after him. “It can suck the life out of you.”

She wasn’t sure whether he heard her or not. But he didn’t jump into the trench, just crouched on the lip, and peered at the two humans lying in the muddy water.

Olwyn and Dai jumped into the hole. Amazingly, they made no splash . They floated a little above the ground, keeping their black boots dry. Cordelia flexed her toes inside her sodden, dirty leather pumps with a touch of resentment.

Arian approached her, his eyes shining like an animal’s in the dark.

She had to focus her will to stand her ground and not back away. “Please bring the two humans up here so we can check if they’re alive,” she asked.

He didn’t even acknowledge her request. With a sneer, he narrowed his eyes to malevolent glowing slits. “I need some of the child’s hair.” He lifted a hand toward Fin. Cordelia stumbled back out of reach, nearly tripping on her dress’s soggy hem.

She hugged Fin protectively, his chubby legs wrapped around her, his warm, tearstained cheek pressed into her neck. “Why?”

By now, she should have known better than to expect an answer. Arian lunged after her, grabbing at the little boy’s head and yanking his hair.

Fin’s scream rent the damp night air, sending crows flapping into the sky from the shadowy silhouette of an oak tree.

“You damn—”

Before she finished her sentence, Michael jumped in front of her. He shoved Arian in the chest, making him stagger back a step. “If you’ve hurt the baby, fella, I’ll—”

“I’ve only taken some hair.” Arian raised his fist, displaying the fluttering golden strands. “There’s always a price to
pay when a gate’s opened unlawfully. Be thankful I did not demand blood of the pisky king’s line.”

As he turned away, Michael shouted, “I’m the king’s brother, you oaf. If you were needing hair or blood, you should have taken mine.”

When Arian reached the lip of the trench, he glanced back over his shoulder and shrugged. “You denied responsibility.” Then he leaped down , soundlessly, and joined Olwyn and Dai.

Michael reeled around as though drunk and slammed the heel of his hand against his forehead in time with his words: “When. Will. I. Learn.”

“Michael.” Cordelia hitched Fin onto her hip and grabbed Michael’s arm before he thumped his head again. “You could n’t have known he’d hurt the baby.”

He stilled, his angry breaths filling the silence. She released his arm and it dropped to his side. Heaving a sigh, he wrested Fin from her arms, hugging the child desperately, eyes closed. “Sorry, lad. I’m sorry.” Fin’s whimpers faded as he snuggled closer to Michael.

Cordelia turned away, her heart pinching, unable to bear the anguish on Michael’s face. He might have his faults but he certainly loved his nephew. She glanced behind her to where Tamsy had remained on the fence near the car. At the edge of her mind, she sensed the warm reassurance of her familiar’s presence.

“Look,” Michael said, still clutching Fin tightly.

The three gatekeepers had spread out across the trench. Arms stretched wide, they started to chant and glow.

“Damnation. They haven’t moved the humans.” Michael groaned. With soft words of reassurance, he detached the clinging child and pushed him into Cordelia’s arms.

“Leave them, Michael.” She tried to grab him but he was already striding toward the trench.

He paused on the lip of the hole. “Pass up the humans,” he bellowed. The angry compulsion in his tone thumped
into Cordelia’s chest like a fist. She closed her eyes, struggled to drag air into her lungs. By the time she was aware of her surroundings again, a shining mantle of light extended from the gatekeepers’ hands, shrouding the trench.

Michael had disappeared.

With an anguished cry, Cordelia ran forward and saw Michael wading through the water in the hole toward the humans. He caught hold of one, then grabbed the arm of the second, and started pulling them back to the edge of the trench.

The sheet of light spread farther, gaining speed as it dipped toward the ground on the opposite side of the megalith.

Michael would be trapped.

She screamed his name. Fin wailed, flailed his arms, and wriggled so much she struggled to keep hold of him.

Michael ran, the sloshing sucking sound of the mud marking his progress. He literally threw first one human, then the other out of the trench, then vaulted up the earthy bank and collapsed on his back beside her. The glowing mantle extending from the gatekeepers’ hands blazed incandescent. Cordelia screwed her eyes closed and struggled to hold on to the squirming baby. Suddenly her arms were empty, clutching at thin air.

Her eyes sprang open. Temporarily blinded by the burst of light, she dropped to her knees, scrabbled around in the mud, feeling for the child. When she grabbed a warm body, she thought she had him, but she was grasping Michael’s arm.

“Finian,” she cried on a sob. “Where’s Finian?”

The Teg had disappeared. Silent darkness pressed around them. Michael pulled away from her and sat up. “What do you mean where’s Finian?”

She shook her head, a useless gesture in the dark but she couldn’t seem to stop. “I had him; then my arms were empty.”

Slowly her eyes recovered from the blinding flash. She started to pick out shapes in the dark: the ragged outline of trees and bushes on the hill, the excavator on the other side of the trench.

Michael rolled onto his hands and knees and crawled between clods of earth toward the lip of the hole. A strangled sob broke from his throat. A sound that clawed her heart, burned tears in her eyes.

She gathered her dress out of the way and shuffled on her knees through the mud to Michael’s side. At the sight of Fin, her muscles locked, paralyzed with shock. He sat in the mud where the humans had been minutes before, deathly still, eyes open, mouth frozen in a silent cry, right beside the fallen megalith that led to the Underworld.

Time paused. Cordelia’s body ceased to feel, her heart silent, her breath still. Then fear oozed up as she imagined the poor little boy lost in endless darkness.

“Fin!” Michael’s anguished cry kicked the air out of her lungs. It shuddered back in on a moan.

Michael launched himself at the trench and disappeared into the gloom. Was he, too, lost in the Underworld? Terror held her rigid until she saw movement on the far side of the hole. Her fingers clenched the gritty mud. Squinting, she made out Michael on the ground by the excavator.

Relief flashed, quickly chased away by confusion. How did he get over there? He scrambled to his feet and jumped toward the trench again. An instant later, he skidded to a halt beside her.

“I cannot get to him,” he cried. “I can see him, but I cannot get to him.”

She reached out in a blind need to comfort him. But he spun in the mud and launched himself wildly into the air, landing a moment later next to the excavator again.

He circled the area the gatekeepers had isolated. Each time he jumped toward Fin, he landed on the other side of the hole.

Finally, her numb brain stumbled back to life. She understood.

With her teary gaze fixed on Fin, she crawled to the lip of the trench. Biting down on her lip, she reached out. When
her forearm passed through the Teg’s shroud, her hand disappeared. With a yelp, she snatched back her arm and cradled it to her body, the burn of fear slowly fading. She stared unseeing into the night, her muscles trembling.

However many times Michael jumped, he wouldn’t reach Fin. That part of the trench no longer existed in the physical world.

Michael trudged back to stand beside her, his hair and clothes soaked and filthy. His labored breaths echoed across the dark, silent field. He rubbed his face, spat out some mud.

She reached for him, brushed her fingers over the back of his hand, gritty with dirt. “I’m sorry, Michael.”

He dropped to a crouch, elbows on his knees, and closed his eyes.

Her heart cracked, brittle as glass. He’d entrusted Fin to her and she’d let him down.

“ ’Tis not your fault, lass. Fin is my responsibility.” He rubbed his eyes with his sleeve, looked up at her through his dirty, dripping hair. She ached to touch him, comfort him, heal his pain. If only the restrictive wards on her skin didn’t prevent her from using her energies to heal, she could lay her hand on his heart center to ease his pain.

With a questioning mew, Tamsy rubbed against Cordelia’s arm. “Oh, Tam.” Cordelia gathered the beloved creature into her arms and hid her face in the warm fur.

“The gatekeepers have annexed the trench as part of the Underworld,” she whispered.

Michael dragged a sigh up from the depths of his soul. “I’ll bloody murder Arian.” With Michael’s clenched jaw and fierce eyes, she hardly recognized him.

“What are we going to do?” she whispered.

He sprang to his feet. “I know someone who has the answer to everything.”

Tipping back his head, he bellowed at the top of his voice: “Troy.” He peered around the field . When nobody appeared, his voice thundered into the darkness again.

How could anyone hear Michael from out here? Yet after his third shout, a light blazed off to their left. Cordelia jumped to her feet, energized by a flare of hope that the gatekeepers had returned to release Fin. But this pale golden light had a warmer quality than the cold brightness of the Teg.

A being appeared within the aura. Although he stood no taller than a normal male, everything else about him was extraordinary. Sparkles of rainbow color glinted off a jewel in the knot of golden hair at the back of his head. His jacket glowed cherry red , adorned with gleaming buttons. Creamy lace frothed at his wrists and throat. His eyes shone bluer than a summer sky, and the extraordinary radiance appeared to emanate from his skin.

“Troy.” Michael brushed past her and ran into the man’s embrace. She winced at the thought of Michael’s dirty clothes against the man’s finery. Yet when they broke apart, not a trace of dirt marred the velvet or lace.

“I gather you need my assistance, son?” the man said in a musical voice.

Son!

Cordelia gaped at him anew. Even as she stared in disbelief, she recognized the likeness. His eyes were the same blue as Michael’s, and when he smiled, the similarity was obvious. But what manner of being was Troy?

Michael’s words tumbled out in his haste to explain what had happened to Fin. Cordelia joined them, hugging Tamsy. When Michael finished speaking, she added a few details he’d missed.

Troy’s curious gaze settled on her. She wanted to drag her tear-swollen eyes away, but his look held a subtle command she couldn’t break. He spoke calmly, a pleasant half smile on his lips. “Do not fret over Finian. He will not be harmed.”

The ache in her heart eased; the tearful tightness in her chest and throat relaxed. She now knew from whom Michael
had inherited his silver tongue. She waited for the effect to fade, but the anger and distress fluttered out of reach.

“ Who’s your friend?” Troy asked Michael.

“This is the pisky wise woman, Cordelia.”

Troy inclined his head to her.

“Cordelia, this here is me father from across the Irish Sea.” Michael rushed through the niceties.

“Michael, lad, go and check if the humans live.” Troy patted Michael’s back and the tense set of his shoulders dropped, while the haunted look in his eyes faded.

Once Michael nodded and walked away, Troy extended a hand. After a moment of confusion, she realized he wanted them to shake hands like humans. She hesitated, wary. But surely, Michael’s father meant her no harm?

When his fingers touched her skin, an enquiring tendril of thought slipped into her body. Subtle and smooth, he overwhelmed her psychic defenses. A woolly sense of wellbeing suffused her. Worries slid away. Vaguely, on the edge of consciousness, she heard Tamsy start to purr.

By strength of will, she held on to a shred of awareness. As he withdrew his senses, she crept after him, into his mind. Desolation, endless, bleak, the top of a mountain where clouds hung, never pierced by the sun, a woman with sleek dark hair and blazing violet eyes.

“Oomph.” She grunted as he pushed her out, the sensation rather like a smack on the forehead. When she managed to focus her eyes, he was staring at her, the acute brilliance of his gaze dissecting her like a razor.

She pulled to withdraw her hand. His grip tightened, nearly to the point of pain. Her insides trembled as she sensed his limitless cold power. “I did not give you leave to pry, witch.”

“Nor I you,” she snapped, furious that he had one rule for her and another for himself.

After a long moment trapped in the scrutiny of his gaze, he released her hand.
“Touché”
He arched an eyebrow. “You
hide the truth of your nature most effectively. From your appearance, I would not have guessed you are half water nymph.”

A flash of panic speared her. “You won’t tell Michael?”

Troy glanced at his son where he kneeled beside the humans. “He’s a powerful earth elemental, strong enough to ground your allure so you could remain in control. You’d thrive together.”

She shook her head, ignoring the tingle of longing for something that could never be. “I don’t need him.”

His lips twitched. “Denial fools only the denier.”

“The humans are both dead,” Michael said in a weary voice when he had tramped back to them. “I went and risked meself and lost Fin for nothing.”

“Dead is a relative term.” Troy walked to the edge of the hole. He didn’t float above the ground like the Teg. Yet he made no sound, left no footprints, and his shoes remained clean.

If she hadn’t touched his flesh, she would have thought him a shade who’d flown here in spirit form, leaving his body in Ireland. The Irish Tuatha Dé Danaan were of noble birth, often gifted with potent magic. But this man was something far more powerful.

Michael joined his father beside the trench and stared at Fin. Although Troy had drained Michael’s anger, his guts ached as though they were twisted. He rubbed his eyes, too tired and wretched to shed tears.

“This is the first time I’ve seen Finian,” Troy said softly. “Is Kea identical?”

“Aye .”

Troy stared at the child, his face expressionless. With anyone else, Michael would be furious at the show of indifference. But Troy always observed life without becoming emotionally involved. How else could he remain the still, calm center of the hectic Irish fairy court?

Cordelia came up beside him, petting her purring cat. “I can’t work out how I lost Finian,” she said, her voice rough with tears. “One minute I was holding him, then…”

The simmering anger flared through Michael again. “That bloody gatekeeper Arian went and put him there on purpose. Arian must have taken his hair to bind him in the spell.”

Cordelia shook her head. “I thought Fin might have moved himself.”

“What!” Michael stared at her.

Troy raised a calming hand. “Does he walk unseen yet?”

Michael groaned and covered his eyes. “Aye,” he said, reluctantly. “Both twins have just started disappearing from the nursery to follow Rose and Niall.” He swallowed before he could utter the last few words. “Today Finian followed me.”

“ Bad timing,” Troy offered, emotionlessly.

“You think?” Michael snapped.

Cordelia put her hand on his arm. Surprisingly, her touch soothed him.

“However Fin landed in trouble, we’ll be needing to get him out pronto.” Michael cast a questioning glance at Troy. His father would know how to rescue Fin. His father knew everything.

“Fin sits outside the gate,” Troy stated. “Not in the Underworld per se, but still trapped within the demesne of Gwyn ap Nudd.”

Cordelia glanced at the corpses. “How did the humans die?”

A few loose strands of Troy’s golden hair danced in the breeze. He brushed them back as he spoke. “Their life force must have been sucked into the Under world.”

“Shite!” Michael paced away, kicked a clod of earth, wishing it were Arian’s head. “I want the lad out now.” He strode back to his father. “Can you free him?”

Troy released a protracted breath. He reached behind
him and drew his short black sword, Death’s Kiss, from the scabbard on his back. He turned to Cordelia. “Take your cat to the safety of the car. Cats have a unique relationship with death that might complicate matters.”

“I’ll wait for you there.” She blinked tearful gray eyes at Michael. He yearned to comfort her, reassure her she wasn’t to blame, but now was not the time or place.

After she walked away, Troy jumped into the trench where the gatekeepers had stood when they sealed the gate. He tentatively swung his blade.

Light sparked with an electric sizzle as the metal met the gatekeepers’ barrier. Troy slashed harder. The sword rent the fabric of the air. Swirling black smoke full of jagged shards of lightning filled the trench. An acrid metallic smell reached Michael’s nose as he covered his ears to block the screeching noise. Troy danced back from the mayhem, an ironic smile on his lips. “Apparently, I have my limitations.”

“I won’t go leaving the lad alone in the wet like this,” Michael said.

“I can’t fracture the barrier long enough for you to jump through.”

“ Rip it again. Let me try.”

“And have you stranded in the Underworld as well? No, lad. I can make sure he’s comfortable and protected; then you must find another way to reach him.”

Troy stepped forward again, both hands gripping the hilt of his sword. A streamer of light leaped from the end of his raised blade, arcing into the night sky. He slashed down. Michael threw an arm over his eyes at the blinding flash. When darkness returned, he stared back at Fin. The child was still trapped, but now he floated a few feet above the ground in a glowing cocoon, eyes closed, curled into a fetal position, breathing shallowly.

Troy leaped onto the bank beside Michael. “He sleeps in safety. Nothing dead can touch him while my light surrounds him.”

“What about the Teg? They’re still a threat to him.”

“I know the Master of the Darkling Road that traverses the Underworld. I’ll ask him to post a watch inside this gateway until you arrive.”

Michael’s heart nearly exploded out of his chest. “You’ll go leaving the lad’s safety to a damn shadow elemental?”

“Michael.” Troy’s voice rang with a steel edge of censure. “Do not make the mistake of thinking all shadow elementals are evil.”

Michael groaned with frustration. “So what are you suggesting I do next?”

“You have five days to reach Fin before my light shield degrades. Make haste to Wales. Petition the Tylwyth Teg for Fin’s safe return.”

“ You’ll becoming with us?”

Troy shook his head. “I must return to Ireland. The Queen of Nightmares is plotting to murder King Esras and steal his lands. If I’m not there, she might succeed.” He put a hand on Michael’s shoulder. “You must take the pisky wise woman along. With her help, you’re more than capable of rescuing Finian.”

“Me?” All his life Troy had told him to stand aside whenever there was trouble. “You’re getting me confused with Niall.”

Troy met his eyes. “I think maybe I’ve done you a disservice, lad. I tried too hard to protect you from the truth of your nature.”

Michael stared at him, uncomprehending.

Troy grimaced, dropped his gaze to his feet. The tension inside Michael twisted to near breaking point. When Troy raised his eyes, they were sad, apologetic. “You’re like me, Michael. You’re like me.”

Michael continued to stare at Troy, baffled. “Everyone knows ’tis Niall who takes after you. Not me.”

Troy looked at the blade in his hand as if he’d forgotten it. He reached over his shoulder and slid the sword into the
scabbard on his back. “Niall takes after your leprechaun mother. He practices earth magic and has the leprechaun touch of luck. Those are his only gifts.”

Michael shook his head violently, unwilling to discount so easily a belief that had shaped his whole life. “What about his skill with a blade? There’s no denying he inherited that from you.”

“Niall’s skill with a blade is the result of practice and determination, not a gift.” Troy laughed, but the sound held more incredulity than humor. “He chose to emulate me, though I’ll never understand why.”