To Catch a Queen (27 page)

“I’m with you,” Michael said. Jen clutched his arm and nodded.

“I believe this is one of the reasons I’m here,” Nana said, looking like she was ready for war.

“I’m in,” Emily said.

“As am I,” Eamon said.

“I think I know what you have in mind, and you can count on us,” Amelia said, adding with a glance at Eamon, “but this is not a fight you can join, Eamon. It will be difficult.”

“You plan to use the ancient weapon of mankind against us: faith,” he said. “I am not as weak as others of my kind. I own several Bibles and have even touched them. I do not fear your prayers.”

Sophie couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at that. He was a very uncommon fairy. Maybe he and Emily could make things work, if Sophie was right about what was developing between them. But this wasn’t the time to worry about that. She addressed the free fae army. “The humans among you have the chance to defend both your adopted home and the world of your birth. Will you join me?”

About a dozen humans stepped forward. “What weapons do we need, my queen?” one called out, his hand on his sword.

“I don’t think any blade is going to do much good. What I need is your voice and whatever you might remember from Sunday school, if you were into that sort of thing back in the day.”

“How are we going to intercept them?” Emily asked. “They’ve got a head start, and they’re mounted.”

“We’ll follow the yellow-brick road, of course,” Sophie said, allowing herself a smile. She’d never tried to take this many people with her across the Realm in one step, but with the crown on her head sending images and impulses into her mind, she knew she could do it. She had the power of the entire Realm at her disposal. She could see the scout’s trail ahead of them, glowing golden, and the direction told her exactly where in the Borderlands it was going. She glanced back over her shoulder at her friends and followers. “Everyone ready?”

Emily picked up Beau’s leash and nodded. Eamon squeezed Emily’s other hand. Jen clung to Michael’s elbow. Nana, Amelia, and Athena were bright-eyed and eager, and behind them, the human contingent of the free fae looked fierce and determined. Sophie actually felt pretty good about this.

She stepped forward on the golden pathway, and two strides later she was in the shadowy darkness of the Borderlands. “Are they here yet?” Emily asked when she arrived.

“I don’t think so, but they’ll come through here,” Sophie replied.

“And you know that because?”

“I’m the queen. Didn’t you get the memo?”

Bantering with her younger sister boosted Sophie’s confidence, which was good because this place gave her the creeps. The awareness that came with the crown only reinforced how dangerous it was. The eerie silence made matters worse. On her last visit, she would have wanted the creepy noises to stop, but now she suspected the denizens of the Borderlands were silent because they sensed what was coming and had made themselves scarce.

Soon, even the eerie silence would have been welcome. The thunder of the approaching Hunt was more frightening in this setting. And then the chanting began.

“The Hunt, the Hunt, the Hunt will ride again.”

“I hate these guys,” Michael said with deep feeling.

“Do you still have iron on you?” Sophie asked without taking her eyes off the approaching flashes of red in the darkness.

He checked his bag. “A bit, but there’s not much left.”

“Make a perimeter.”

“Gotcha.”

He started with a line ahead of them, then circled behind the group, scattering the nails. Meanwhile, the Hunt had drawn close enough that she could make out the horns on their helmets. “I’m assuming you do have a plan,” Emily said. “Care to share?”

Nana answered for her. “We’re going to sing hymns, recite Bible verses, and say prayers.”

“Yes, that’s it, exactly,” Sophie said, trying not to be miffed that her grandmother was stepping on her toes. After all, she’d learned what to do from Nana.

“I’ve heard about stepping out in faith, but wow,” Emily said, her voice shaking.

“It’s traditional,” Athena explained. “Supposedly, one of the best ways to defend yourself against the darkest sort of fae is to use any symbols of the Christian faith. I suppose other faiths work, too, but most of these stories come from Europe, which was predominantly Christian at that time.”

“It can be effective against those who have had less exposure to the human world,” Eamon added.

“I’m hoping it will be enough to force them to stand down,” Sophie continued. “Then I might be able to impose my will on them. Niall must have promised them something or done something to free them from any restraints.”

“Wouldn’t that have been squashed when Niall died?” Michael asked.

“I don’t think he’s dead,” Nana said. “He’s likely still giving orders if they’re still acting on them.”

Sophie turned to her, wincing at the physical pain that thought gave her. “You mean, this isn’t over?”

“Did you see a body? It’s probably a diversion,” Nana said with a nod. “It’s what I would do. You faked a death in your own fight.”

“Right,” Sophie acknowledged, drawing the word out as she thought. “Then we’ve got to make this work, and quickly.”

“If it doesn’t work?” Emily asked.

“Then we’re making a last stand.”

“Wow, talk about motivation,” Emily said with a grin.

The Hunt headed straight for them. Sophie would have told herself to hold her attack until she could see the red of their mounts’ eyes, but that was the first thing to become visible. She threw up a magical barrier using enchantress magic, and the other two enchantresses added their strength to it once they noticed what she was doing. “Keeping the worst of the fae out of our world is our job,” Amelia said with grim determination.

Sophie turned to her sister. “You’ve got the biggest voice. How about a verse of ‘Amazing Grace’?”

Emily’s eyes sparkled. She lived for this sort of thing. She belted out the opening line, and the others joined in. Sophie had never been able to put much power behind her voice, but she was surprised by how strong Michael’s baritone turned out to be. She glanced at Eamon and saw that while he looked somewhat uncomfortable, he was holding fast at Emily’s side. The choir of the free fae humans gradually joined in behind them, singing the same melody in a multitude of languages.

Sophie might have been imagining it, but the Hunt seemed to be slowing. More details became visible as they stirred up less dirt and smoke. She could see how skeletal they were—the riders, the horses, and the dogs that ran at the horses’ hooves. At Emily’s feet, Beau growled at his fae counterparts. Emily held his leash tightly, keeping him from going after them.

But the song wasn’t actually scripture and was relatively recent. It might not even have been written when the Hunt rode more regularly in the human world. “Does everyone know the Twenty-third Psalm?” Sophie called out.

Michael, the minister’s son, started that one. Sophie, Nana, and Emily joined in immediately. Athena and Amelia picked it up. Jen appeared a little more foggy, but she wouldn’t have heard it in a very long time. Sophie was really surprised when Eamon echoed them, only a word or two behind. Some of the others also added their voices.

The Hunt slowed even more, and a few of the horses tried to wheel away. Their riders fought to control them. Some of the dogs stopped entirely. It was working. Sophie decided to unleash one last weapon. “The Lord’s Prayer!” she called out.

“Which version?” Amelia asked.

“Whichever one you know,” Sophie replied. “It doesn’t have to be unison.”

They only got halfway through the prayer before the Hunt faltered entirely. Sophie gestured for the others to stop. “Do you yield?” she called to the leader of the Hunt.

He didn’t speak, but his answer was implied when the Hunt kept moving relentlessly forward until they came up against the enchantresses’ shield. Up close, they were utterly terrifying. She’d thought the stags’ horns were affixed to their helmets, but they seemed to grow straight out of their heads. Their eyes were like portals into infinity, and the stench of sulfur surrounded them. Every survival instinct Sophie had ordered her to flee, but she forced herself to stand resolutely still, staring down these creatures from the depths of hell. She heard movement behind her, and out of the corner of her eye she noticed some of the others in her group backing away. She didn’t blame them. In fact, she wished she could join them, but she stood fast, her friends and family at her side. Beau whimpered once, but he, too, stood his ground.

In a voice she felt in shivers down her back rather than actually heard, the Huntsman replied, “I yield to no one.”

“Do you know who I am?” she demanded.

“You are the queen of the Realm.”

“I order you to stand down.”

“We do not stand down.”

Indignation overrode her fear. “Oh, really?” she said. She sensed Emily edging away from her. Her sister recognized the warning signs, even if Mr. Horn Head didn’t seem to. His brains had probably been turned to ashes long ago. “Is it a matter of pride, or did Niall offer you something good?”

It was hard to read expressions on a nearly featureless face, but she thought the bottomless eyes narrowed ever so slightly. “The great lord freed us to resume our rides.”

“And what do you get out of the rides?” she prompted.

“Enough of this!” he roared. With a gesture, he threw a ball of flame at her. It spattered against the magical barrier, which weakened enough to allow a few sparks through. The enchantresses countered the fire with ice, and Sophie strengthened the barrier with a gesture, refusing to let herself flinch. She was intrigued by the mention that the Hunt had been freed. That implied that someone—perhaps one of her fairy ancestors—had at one time managed to chain or imprison them. It would have been nice, though, if she had any clue as to how to go about doing that. She wondered if Nana might know, but she couldn’t ask for help in front of them without looking weak.

“You take souls when you ride, don’t you?” she asked, trying to sound casual and not like the germ of a plan rested on this conversation.

“That is correct,” the Hunter acknowledged. “Hunting gives us life.”

Mentally crossing her fingers in case her theory was wrong, she said, “If you leave the Realm, you’ll die.”

The lead Hunter’s horse reared, its monstrous hooves pawing at the air in fury. “Do you think you can slay us, little queen?”

“I don’t have to. The people outside will take care of it. They don’t fear you anymore. They don’t believe in you anymore. Heck, most of them haven’t even heard of you. They’ll see or hear you coming and call it a thunderstorm. They’ll have a scientific explanation for it—air temperatures, atmospheric pressure, wind speed, static electricity, the speed sound travels. What happens to the fae without belief?” She felt like she was at a production of
Peter Pan,
but instead of asking the audience to believe in fairies and clap their hands, she was saying, “Don’t believe, and Tinkerbell’s toast.”

She thought the Hunt might be faltering. The flames in their eyes dimmed, and the cloud around them diminished. Behind Sophie, Emily started softly singing “Ave Maria,” barely audible, but still enough to seep into the subconscious and possibly even deliver a double whammy.

Sophie moved in for the kill, taking the risk of moving through the protective barrier and facing the Hunt directly. “The time of the fae has all but ended in the world above. The stories they tell children about fairies are cute and funny. Children aren’t taught to fear fairies. They dress up like them in butterfly wings and frilly skirts. Instead of running from you, they’d invite you to a tea party.”

“Then we will ride within the Realm, where we are still feared.”

“I can’t let that happen, and I will stop you.” She let enough of her royal power show to drive the point home. She wasn’t exactly sure how she’d stop them, but she’d find a way, even if she had to lock them in a room and pipe in recordings of church services.

“What will we do if we do not ride?” It was hard to tell since she couldn’t read his expression, but she almost thought he sounded a little lost.

“Maybe you should find a more productive use of your time,” she said. “What have you been doing since you last rode?”

“We have been confined to the Borderlands—neither entering the Realm nor leaving it for the outside world.”

That explained the cultists Michael had encountered. They probably went in and out of the physical entrances to the Borderlands and must have encountered the Hunt there.

A crazy idea occurred to her. It was absolutely insane, but it felt somehow right. “What if I offered you a job? A real job, not just running around terrifying people.”

“What job would you have us do, little queen?” The ominous voice dripped with disdain.

“I need a royal guard, some knights to serve the throne and keep peace in the Realm.”

“And why should we serve you, human queen?”

“The fact that I’m queen isn’t enough?”

He made a sound that might have been laughter, but that made her skin crawl. “We don’t serve. We do our will at the pleasure of the ruler.”

Sophie felt like she was close to a breakthrough, but couldn’t quite grasp the one concept that would turn everything around. It was just
there,
but still out of reach. As she so often did when imposing her will on others, even before she’d realized she was using magic to do so, she tried switching viewpoints. What was in it for them, and how could she get them to see that?

In this case, why would a band of soul-stealing monsters want to become the queen’s royal guard and be trapped inside the Realm? Did they actually like all that hunting, or were they just not able to see any other possibility? Maybe if they saw what could be, it would change their minds.

She pictured the ultimate makeover, from hell fiend to Lancelot—change the dark armor to shining silver, add some color in a tabard. The horns might have to stay, but as proud stag horns that looked noble rather than evil. His hideous black horse could be a snowy-white steed, strong and healthy, with eyes like diamonds. She held the image in her mind until it was more real to her than what stood before her, then adjusted reality to fit it.