The Stolen: An American Faerie Tale (18 page)

Dante cocked an eyebrow. “So you can club them with the butt?”

“Well, I was thinking I could shoot them, too.”

“Guns are fine when you're fighting at a distance,” Dante said, “but up close, a blade is the best way to go.”

“In other words,” Edward said, “let you worry about the guns.”

Dante chuckled and patted Edward on the shoulder. “Here's hoping you don't even need the knife.” He nodded to Faolan. “All right, open it.”

“Wait,” Edward said. “How is it we won't come out the other side on top of each other? I mean, if time is distorted.”

“He's quick,” Faolan said.

“It's hard to explain,” Dante said, “but the simple version is when you open a portal on this side, it makes a bubble of time around us that closely matches the regular world without diverging from the flow of time here.”

Edward nodded. “Since I don't have a degree in quantum mechanics, I'll just let it go, then.”

The elves laughed.

“Go ahead,” Dante said to Faolan.

This time Edward heard the words that went with the gesture. He wasn't familiar with the language, but it was definitely Celtic.

Like the tree at his house, this one swelled and became distorted until its trunk opened into a doorway. Once again, all that was visible was swirling white mist. Quinn and Riley tapped blades and stepped into the portal. Nollaig and Arlen stepped through next after a pause.

Dante turned to Edward. “You sure you're ready?”

“Let's go.”

“After you.”

Edward drew in a deep breath, held it, then stepped into the mist.

 

CHAPTER TWENTY-­ONE

B
eing nearly unconscious the first time he went through the mist had spared Edward the interesting sensation he was now experiencing. Interesting, in the same way falling into a black hole would be interesting. Not comfortable, but interesting. Before he could consider it fully, Edward was standing in an alleyway, and the scents and sounds shared by all large urban areas bombarded his senses.

Then Dante was shoving him.

Edward fell to the ground as a long and strangely curved blade sliced through the air where he'd just been standing.

“Kill the wizard!” someone shouted.

That caught Edward's attention. He rolled, and kept rolling, until he hit something. Getting to his feet, he tried to assess what was happening.

Dante and the other elves were fighting a group of oíche and humanoid creatures straight from a nightmare. They weren't much more than two feet tall, and they were covered in black fur. They had long, sharp claws and gold almond-­shaped eyes.

Faolan and Sean stepped from the portal and joined the fray.

The gateway closed and once more became a brick wall painted with a realistic image of a tree. An oíche leaping over the elves in Edward's direction interrupted his clinical review of the scene. He drew back his hand and focused his will.

“
Tân
!” A ball of fire manifested in his hand, and he hurled it at the oíche.

Fae and fire connected in midair, the flames engulfing the small faerie. It dropped to the ground and rolled, trying to put itself out.

The dark power welled up inside Edward again, and he pushed it back. He had to do this without the darkness.

He concentrated and waved his hand. “
Fwy
!”

The flames erupted into a massive pyre. Screams stopped as clouds of darkness and smoke drifted from the inferno.

The magic was coursing through him, and Edward knew it was his magic. Wind rushed past, sucked into the maw of the blaze. The mental fatigue began to gnaw at him, but for now, it was still manageable.

The magic, and therefore the fire, was not.

Edward panicked as it continued to grow beyond his control. He struggled to pull the magic back, but his growing alarm and weariness prevented him from keeping hold of it. The magic-­fed fire spread to the walls and finally to a Dumpster.

“No,” Edward said through gritted teeth.

A high-­pitched, guttural cry came from the other side of the conflagration, and one of the small, furry creatures jumped through the flames at Edward. Its fur ignited as it passed through the wall of fire, but that didn't even slow it.

Edward didn't have time to react. The creature hit him full in the chest and knocked him to the ground. Edward's head smacked the asphalt and bounced. A ringing filled his ears and his hands began to burn as he struggled to get the flaming whatever it was off him.

Snapping jaws were inches from his face. Spittle landed on his cheek as Edward struggled with arms and claws. His clothes started to burn, and the air drawn into his lungs grew hotter with each breath.

Suddenly Edward remembered. The knife! He'd dropped it when he'd fallen.

Letting go of one of the furry arms, Edward reached for the weapon. Searing, blinding pain shot through him as the creature tore into his flesh with its claw. He screamed and tried to kick the thing off, but it wouldn't budge. It was small, but incredibly strong.

At last, Edward's fingers touched cold metal. He gripped the knife and drove it repeatedly into his attacker.

The thing shrieked but only seemed to become further enraged.

Edward screamed and waited to die. Blood was soaking his clothes, and blisters emerged on his hands. There was a sickly sweet smell in the air, and it took him a minute to recognize it as burning human flesh. He'd smelled it before, on burn victims in the hospital.

Edward tried to scream again but couldn't.

He heard a series of pops and the creature convulsed, then went limp.

Edward tossed it to one side, suddenly aware he might survive, and sucked in cool air. The creature was motionless and charred as black blood pooled around it. A dozen paces away, Riley stood, holding his pistol. Between them, the fire was finally diminishing, now simply consuming the mundane fuels.

“You've got to get up,” Faolan said. He and Riley each took an arm and pulled Edward to his feet.

Pain unlike any he'd felt or even imagined possible brought forth the screams that he'd been unable to release moments before. After a few agonizing seconds, the pain subsided to merely excruciating, and at the far edges of his consciousness, he noted that the fight was over. He only hoped that meant they'd won.

Edward had to focus so hard on keeping the pain back that it was hard to breathe. Around him, the urban setting seemed unaware of the battle that had just taken place.

Dante ran over. “Come on, we've got to get out of here. There's a
tearmann
nearby.”

Edward felt himself being urged along and he moved as quickly as he could, gritting his teeth so hard he could feel them grinding. Tears ran down his face, leaving a trail of stinging flesh. With effort, he opened his eyes, and in the distance, he could just see the buildings of Boston's skyline.

“Hang in there,” Dante said near his ear. “We'll help you. We can take the pain away, but you have to move.”

Edward wanted nothing more than to just lie down and die. Let the darkness come. Let it swallow him and take away the hurt. Then he thought of Caitlin and Fiona. He'd made a promise to them. Whatever he could do, he would. He could do this. He had to do this.

Holding the image of Caitlin in his mind so tightly he could almost smell her perfume, he increased his speed.

Mercifully, the group slowed and led Edward down a series of stairs. A door opened and he was pushed inside. Scraping for a bit of spare concentration, he gestured his hand at the door.

“
Atgyfnerthu
.” With that final exertion, everything went black.

 

CHAPTER TWENTY-­TWO

E
dward considered how strange the human body and mind were. While in pain, there is only the memory of how sublime not being in pain feels. Then, when the pain finally subsides, the sufferer remembers that it hurt, but the pain itself is vague and distant. There was no pain in this darkness, this void where he now found himself. He was hesitant to respond to the distant voices calling to him. He knew answering them meant a return to pain.

Edward didn't think he was dead. Having worked in a hospital, he'd encountered his share of death even though he was not a practicing medical doctor. Sometimes ­people who had been revived had memories of death, and this didn't match what they'd said. There was no light, no tunnel, and no loved ones waiting for him. There was only darkness and a lack of pain. He wasn't sure what that said about him.

He didn't know what to do, but he knew it was his doing, his failure, that brought him here; burned, bleeding, and unconscious.

I tried, I tried to do it without the darkness, he said to himself, but I wasn't good enough. I'm not a wizard, no matter how badly I wish otherwise.

This was already a dangerous game, and he'd only made it worse. The dark power he'd touched had easily influenced him. Worse, without it, he was completely incompetent.

But what about the summoning?

No, that had only been with Dante right behind him, guiding his every step. When it had mattered, when the other wizard had lashed out, Edward had failed, and because of that, Justin had escaped the circle. Now he'd stumbled again, and this vast darkness was where it got him.

I should just stay here, he thought. Away from the pain. Let those who know what they're doing deal with it.

He thought of the heirloom bracelet that was on his wrist, or had been before he'd been fricasseed. He hoped it was intact. It was one of the few pieces of his Taid that he had. The quiet spoke to him then, much as it often did when he was in the library or, occasionally, in his office. However, unlike those times, this wasn't Nghalon; this was his grandfather's voice.

“Don't listen to it, Edward,” the voice said. “It isn't you thinking these things.”

What? That doesn't make sense. Of course it's me thinking this. Who else would it be?

“No one is ever prepared, but that doesn't give you leave to stand aside. You must rise and be counted amongst those who will fight against darkness. If you can act and do not, then you're giving your consent to the evil. You must not give in to it. Stand apart from the darkness, not just against it.”

But I failed. I tried, but I couldn't—­ Wait, why am I listening to this? It's just some kind of delusion. It's trying to trick me by using my grandfather's voice. Even if it is Taid, what does that crazy old man know?

No, that wasn't right. His Taid wasn't a crazy old man. That's when it dawned on him that he wasn't alone in his own head.

“
Just stay here, stay in the quiet and peace—­
”

Anger filled him at the very idea of this intrusion.

The thoughts changed, and the voice was different now, not even trying to hide. “
Why fight it? You felt that power. You destroyed those creatures with hardly an effort
.”

Edward remembered the twisted delight he'd taken in their pain, and it didn't turn his stomach. That was unsettling. But Dante said—­

“
That sad little sidhe can't stand against you,
” the voice said. “
You don't need him. You can do this alone. You can save her and the child.
”

He thought of how happy, how impressed Caitlin would be. She'd love him then.

“
Yes, she'll see your strength and want to be close to it. Just let the power in. Take it for your own, use it as you want. You can be the master of it!
”

With that kind of power, he could take whatever he wanted. No one could stop him, not Dante, not Brendan, no one. Why should he struggle with these meager pieces of magic, these scraps from the table? He was no dog!

“
That's why she's never seen you before. Your weakness distracted her.
”

He thought of how sad and small, how weak he'd been. No, he'd been pathetic!

“
Take the power! You can become a god!
”

Edward sensed movement and opened his eyes to find himself seated at the front of a grand hall. Wizards sat before him; scores of robed and cloaked figures were watching him, waiting for their lord to issue his edict.

As Edward looked around the chamber, he knew that beyond these walls, world leaders waited for his wisdom and guidance. The most powerful nations would answer his summons and obey his command.

Caitlin, seated to his left and lovely as ever, stared at him with adoring eyes. She smiled, rose, and walked to him. Slowly, she straddled him and wrapped her arms around his neck.

He could feel her press against him.

Her lips touched his, and their softness was intoxicating. Her delicate tongue reached into his mouth and found his, dancing with it in an erotic waltz. Her flesh was warm and soft as his hands caressed her sides. Her body pressed into his as she moaned in delight.

Her kisses moved along his neck and to his ear. “What do you wish of me, my lord?” she asked. “I am yours, take me as you like.”

“
All this can be yours
,” a disembodied voice said, and the scene was gone.

Edward was back in the darkness, though his heart still pounded and he could feel the lingering touch of Caitlin's body and lips. He drew in a shuddering breath.

“
Take it, you deserve it.
”

There was another voice, barely more than a whisper. It was Caitlin's. Not the husky seductress from the moment before; this was the real Caitlin, the one he loved. He could see her smile and smell her perfume.

“Thanks, Eddy, you're a good friend. The best, actually,” her voice said.

No, it wouldn't be me she loved—­

Again, the darkness changed, but this time he saw Caitlin and Brendan lying together, their nude bodies tangled. Caitlin flung her head back and she moaned in ecstasy, then she threw her arms around Brendan's neck and kissed him.

Jealousy tore at Edward's insides. It churned, a vast and rancid ocean of hate that threatened to drown him. His hands tensed, wanting nothing less than to tear Caitlin away.

“
This is what awaits you should you refuse,
” the darkness said.

Pain and anguish ate its way through Edward's heart, leaving behind only nothingness. It should be him, not Brendan.

“
Even now
—­”

“NO!” he screamed into the nothingness.

The scene shattered and evaporated into darkness.

There was a dampness of tears in his eyes, though Edward wasn't sure if it was his actual body. He drew in a breath and resolved himself. He knew the truth: all he could do was love her, and that's what he would do, whether or not she loved him in return. Love didn't work that way.

“
You'll fail without it!
” the voice said. “
She and the child will be lost forever! Their blood, their deaths, will be on your hands!
”

Edward laughed, actually laughed. How many times had he heard that argument from patients? Victims of assault, rapes, or molestations, they all thought they were the reason it had happened to them. But it was the rapist, the molester, or the murderer who was to blame.

“
They'll die—­
”

“Then I'll spend the rest of my life searching out those who did it, and kill them myself.” Edward said. “You're right, neither of them may come home, but now that's not something I can control. I'll do my part to help, and I can only hope.”

He felt the frustration of this intruder as Edward fought back the fear and dread growing inside him. Then it all became clear.

“You're not offering me power,” he said. “You're asking for it. That wasn't me at all, it was you.”

Edward's anger flared. Whoever this was had used him, and he'd nearly fallen for it. No, he had fallen for it! Edward reached out, using the rage as fuel for his own power. His magic drove out into the darkness, and he felt something. No, someone.

“
What are you doing?
” The voice was tinged with fear now.

Edward seized the intruder, this violator of his mind. Edward dug his magic into the essence of this trespasser, like claws, holding him fast.

“Let's see how you like it,
anghenfil
.”

Edward pushed deeper and drove his magic into the interloper's mind. There was no doubt now—­it was the other wizard.

“This will end badly for you, Edward Hunt—­”

Edward used all his anger, his fear and pain, to drive his power deeper until he found what he was looking for. It was soft and seemed to pulse with an inner life. His first instinct was to withdraw in disgust, but he fought the urge.

It was so cold that it burned and seemed to draw the heat from Edward. Hardening his resolve, he tightened his magic around it and pulled. Edward's prize held fast, but he felt it begin to tear loose.

The intruder's scream filled Edward's head, but that only drove him on. With a final pull of his will, the piece ripped free.

Edward drew it close and felt something warm seep from it. Then, after a moment, he withdrew from the darkness, returning to the world.