The Fires of Tartarus Page 3
Rodney laughed and patted my shoulder. “Blimey, luv, Corvus could lose that down the back of the sofa and not notice. Cyd spends more than that on shoes in a year I reckon.”
“Oh?” I tried to breathe normally but my chest refused to unlock my lungs. “OK, so we've bought the cuffs but we need the pearls and have no idea how to get close to a Selkie to bargain with one.” Focus, Jéhenne. “Is that right?”
“Actually,” Rodney said, leaning forward so his face stuck through the gap in the seats. “I might be able to help you there.”
Cain looked at him via the rear view mirror. “How?” he demanded, looking beyond skeptical.
Rodney shrugged. “Well it's only somethin' I heard like, don't know if it's true but ... Well I was down the bar last summer and ...”
Cain gave a sarcastic bark of laughter. “Don't tell me ... you bought some magic beans.”
“Shut up,” I snapped at him. “We have to check out every possibility don't we?”
Cain snorted and rolled his eyes while Rodney pulled a face behind his back and carried on.
“Like I was sayin',” he said. “I met this bloke while I was working on a job for Corvus. He was a Demicaste.”
“A what?” I asked, turning in my seat.
“Oh.” He crumpled up the box his burger had been in and handed me the rubbish. “A mixed blood Fae, like Dragon. He is, ain't he?” he asked Cain, who nodded. “Anyway, I reckon this bloke was half Light Fae, half human, but the Fae are a snooty lot about bloodlines. Anyone less than pure-blood they call a Demicaste. It isn't a compliment, but he said it, not me.”
Cain sighed. “And the point of the story is ...”
We both glared at him.
“The point is,” Rodney said, deliberately sounding out each word. “That this bloke reckons there are Selkies along the south west coast, Biscarosse, 'e said, and ...” He paused for effect. “He reckons they've adopted some lad.”
“What?”
This information seemed to have piqued Cain's interest and Rodney sat back, looking smug. He winked at me.
“And?” Cain demanded.
“Oh, now you're interested.”
“Yes, I'm interested!”
Rodney snorted and sat forward again. “Apparently some kid got washed up after a ship went down about eighteen years ago; the boy was Fae, a Pixie by all accounts.”
“A Pixie?” Cain repeated.
“Yeah I know,” Rodney said, nodding. “What are the chances?”
“Why is that so surprising?” I asked.
“Pixies are solitary Fae,” Cain said, fumbling with the box of his next burger. “They never come to this world under normal circumstances and the Fae as a race are not great sailors. They stick on dry land as much as possible.” I watched Cain devour half of his burger in one massive bite.
“So you think this boy could negotiate with us?” I asked Rodney.
“Well,” he scratched his chin and gave me a rueful grin. “Unless anyone else 'as got any bright ideas?”
I looked at Cain, who shrugged in defeat.
“Well then, it looks like we're going to the seaside,” I said, glancing at a road sign that told me we were still over five hundred kilometres from home, and my heart sank. I turned around to face front again and wondered if I was going to make the next five hours without doing something stupid.
Cain glanced at me.
“You did feed last night like we discussed?”
I felt my cheeks burn and turned away from him.
“Jéhenne?”
“Bloody ‘ell, luv,” Rodney muttered from the back seat.
“Shit!” My brother was always more succinct. I glanced at Cain to discover his eyes on me. He didn't say anything, just turned his attention back to the road, but his knuckles were white on the steering wheel. At a guess I'd say he was fairly mad - in the same way the Arctic was a bit chilly. Well it looked like the journey home was going to be fun.
***
I could feel home pulling at me the closer we got. Not the building itself, not the location, but the pulse of the family. The beat of it thudded heavily below my skin, the heartbeat of the family thrumming over the distance that separated us and over that, over all of it, I could sense Lucas.
It was dark now, and he was standing outside the front door of the Château, pacing, his anger a metallic taste in my mouth. He was furious that I had gone for so long, and so far from home, without him. I could feel his desire to rage at me, to throw things and rip the fabric of the building apart. I could feel the control it was taking to keep that desire in check. And underneath that anger was pure, cold fear. It surprised me that he had been so afraid, and it made me guilty that I hadn't just done as everyone wanted me to and taken care of my needs as I should have done. The guilt annoyed me, fired my anger at the unfairness of it. They had no right to dictate to me, had no right to make me feel this way when they didn't understand, they didn't know what it cost me. But how could I tell them that every time I did, it felt like a betrayal?
It was another hour before we arrived, with Cain driving like we were being pursued by the Devil himself. I didn't care now. The ice in my veins was ripping me apart, a million tiny razors scoring me from the inside out while the snakes writhed in my belly once more. The sneering voice of my conscience mocked me internally as ever, stupid, stupid, Jéhenne. You could have avoided this and stopped everyone worrying. You could have made life easier for everyone. Except that Corvus was dead and nothing should be easy anymore.
We were belting down the driveway to the Château when Cain hit the brakes so hard we nearly went through the windscreen. My door was wrenched open and Lucas snapped the seat belt, hauling me out of my seat, none too gently, by the arm. He slammed the door in Cain's face and the next minute we were in the depths of the forest.
He didn't speak - which was just as well, as the scent of his blood was all I could focus on. He barely looked at me as his teeth pierced his own skin, and I grabbed hold of his wrist. I knew I would hate myself later, would relive with shame burning the way I wrestled him to the ground, the fury with which I bit into him - the moan of pleasure that he couldn't suppress.
I came back to myself little by little. The scent of the woodland enveloping me, of rotting branches and acorns, oak trees and leaves, pine needles, the prickle of them underneath me, working their way through my clothes and scratching my skin. The sounds of scurrying and tiny heartbeats, the pursued and the pursuer. Which would win this time? I opened my eyes, seeing perfectly well in the darkness. Lucas was lying behind me, the heat of him warming me against the cold of the floor and the night.
“You have to stop doing this.”
“I know.”
I heard him sigh. “You're not going to, though, are you?”
I remembered one of the last nights I had spent with Corvus, after he had fought with Corin, after he had forgiven me. I had made him a promise; I will never leave you, no matter what. I will always be there for you. I won't let anything come between us again. Not ever.
“I can't,” I said, helpless.
Lucas moved away, got to his feet. “Whatever you are now, whatever it is you need to keep you whole, it's Corvus who made you this way.” His voice was low, and I knew he wasn't saying it to hurt me. “It's the last thing he did for you, Jéhenne, to protect you and the family. It's up to you whether you think that it was a gift or a curse, something precious - or something to be disgusted by.”
I turned to look at him, to try and explain that it wasn't like that, but he'd gone.
***
The next day I found myself at the beach. The sun sparkled on the sea, and white sand stretched out for miles and miles in either direction. The air was cold and crisp, the tang of salt and seaweed drying on my lips. Directly behind us on the edge of the beach stood thick pine forests.
“So what now?” I asked, sinking down into the sand, not caring if it was damp or not. “We've been walking since the sun came up.”
I nodded my agreement and watched as he walked away, back down the beach. We both felt like we were searching for a needle in a haystack. We'd hardly seen anyone at all, certainly no sign of Selkies and not the faintest suggestion of a young Pixie.
The sun was climbing now and although it was only March I could feel the heat of it against my face. I closed my eyes and sighed. The sand was cold under my hands, my fingers burying into it. I took a breath. Time to move, Jéhenne. I figured I'd head into the woodland behind me and see what I could stir up by poking around in the undergrowth. The sound of the sea, of the waves ebbing and flowing, was soothing though. There was something so unchangeable about the sea it was reassuring somehow. Empires could rise and fall but the sea would still be there, eroding everything it touched, smoothing the sharp edges of history until they blurred. The thought comforted me.
It was then that a prickle of awareness tingled up the back of my neck. I was being watched.
Chapter 4
I kept myself still, my eyes shut, magic prickling over me. It had a familiar feel, the warm touch of it against my skin like a caress. Corin's magic had felt like this, only magnified many times over. This was an echo of that power, faint but distinct just the same. There was movement to my right, slight but coming closer to me. I didn't move but opened my eyes, looking out at the sea, trying to appear tranquil and undisturbed by my visitor.
I could almost taste his curiosity as, little by little, he moved into my eye-line until he was sitting, crouched in front of me.
I held my breath. He had wide green eyes, much paler than mine, like the first, fresh green shoots appearing now that spring was in the air. They sparkled with interest and mischief. His hair was light brown and hung in dozens of tiny braids decorated with bits of sea-worn glass and shells, a piece of coloured red glass hanging from one ear. Freckles peppered his nose and his cheeks, and his clothes were mostly rags, his feet bare. There was a seal skin draped across his shoulders.
He sat down, cross-legged in front of me, like he was settling in to admire the view. I raised one eyebrow.
“Hi,” I said.
He beamed at me and after a moment's thought took one of many necklaces he was wearing, made of more shells and pebbles and bits of glass, and handed it to me.
“For me?” I asked in surprise, and he nodded, gesturing for me to take it.
I frowned. I'd had run-ins with the Fae before, and if Pixies were anything like Elves, taking anything from them was a seriously bad idea. I shook my head, and he pouted at me, looking hurt. He pointed at the moonstone ring on my finger and held out the necklace again.
“Oh!” I said, laughing. “You want to trade, huh?” He nodded again, thrusting the necklace at me. “No strings?” I asked. “I mean if I take it you don't own me or anything?”
He blushed, the shade of red quite startling against his pale skin, and gave a furious shake of his head.
“OK, just checking but ...” I pointed at the ring. “You can't have this.” He frowned, and I reached into my jacket pocket and drew out a packet of sweets I'd brought for the journey. They were each wrapped in brightly coloured, shiny foil, and his eyes widened. “This OK?”
He flashed that smile again and we exchanged sweets for necklace. I watched as he opened the first sweet, popping it into his mouth, his expression one of complete happiness. I wondered if I'd ever looked like that, as easily pleased by a simple pleasure. Not recently at least. He smoothed out the shiny paper with careful fingers before tucking it into a fold in his clothes, though that was a generous description of the rags he wore.
He was a little younger than me, though with the Fae I could be decades out. But his face was too open, too sweetly innocent to be any older. His features were fine, girlish almost, those pale green eyes framed by thick eyelashes.
“I'm Jéhenne,” I said, holding my hand out to him as he returned his attention to me.
He wiped his hand on his leg and then offered it to me. “Kai,” he said, his expression a little daunted. He looked at our hands clasped together and then turned mine in his to see my palm. “Witch,” he added, looking back up at me, and I could see fear flickering in his eyes.
I nodded. “I won't hurt you.”
He drew his hand away slowly, almost reluctant and then inched forward a little on the sand so that our knees were almost touching.
“You can speak this language, you understand me?” I asked.
He nodded. “A little, I ...” He paused and wet his lips, frowning with concentration. “I have no ... practice. But I understand.”
“That's great,” I said, relieved I wasn't going to have to rely on sign language. I'd always sucked at charades.
He reached forward, his movements slow so that I could move away, and touched a finger to a lock of my red hair. He grinned, the expression transforming his face once more and showing deep dimples in his cheeks. “Pretty,” he said.
“Thanks.” I laughed, feeling a little awkward now. “Well, yours is pretty too.”
He reached for his own hair, the shells and glass beads chinking slightly as he drew them through his fingers. “Thank you,” he said, blushing and looking enormously pleased with the compliment.
I figured it was time we got down to business. “Kai, would you help me with something?” He looked at me, his eyes intense on mine and then gave a sharp nod. “Great,” I said. “I need some green pearls. I want to trade with the Selkies for them.”
His face fell, and he looked down at the sand, shaking his head. “Selkies not trade pearls,” he said, his fingers drawing patterns in the sand. The big eyes glanced up at me looking embarrassed. “Forbidden,” he added with a shrug.
“Shit!” I said. He looked startled and I put a hand out to reassure him. “Sorry, I'm sorry ... I ... I just really need those pearls.” I sighed and put my head in my hands. This was taking too long. Months had passed with Corvus suffering at every moment and every time I took a step closer to freeing him, I took two steps back.
“Jéhenne?” I looked up to see those wide green eyes watching me, full of compassion. “You not be sad.” He gave me a crafty smile and pointed at himself. “Kai not Selkie.”
***
Deep in the thickest part of the woodland was a shack. It was crude to say the least, and I shuddered to think of him growing up in such primitive conditions. The winters here could be harsh and long - how on earth had he managed? I felt the ward flicker over me as he led me inside and gasped. He grinned at the expression on my face.
Every surface and each wall was decorated. Shells and coloured stone and bits of glass, things washed up from the beach, earrings and beads and shiny bits of paper and plastic. It was like stepping into a kaleidoscope. The sun filtered in, not through windows but through bottle ends stuck in odd places around the walls. Green and brown and clear sunlight shone through, making glass and cheap plastic glitter like jewels.
“It's beautiful, Kai.”
He looked around, smiling and then nodded. “Pretty.”
“Very.”
I looked at the corner of the room where he'd made his bed, thick pine branches covered over with rabbit skins, and felt my heart ache for him all alone in the woods here. Were the Selkies kind to him? Where was his family?
He began to dig at the earth floor and after a few moments pulled out an old, battered tin with Quality Street written on the lid. He prised it open and looked at the contents, biting his lip. After a moment’s deliberation, he handed it to me. There inside were six large, green pearls.
I let out a breath, feeling tears prickling at my eyes. Damn it, hold it together. I'd already made my mind up to be generous. Whatever he wanted he could have. I felt a hand touch my arm, the contact brief as he ducked his head to look at my downcast eyes. “Happy?”
I laughed, sniffing at the same time. “Yes, Kai, very happy. Thank you so much.” I took a breath. “Now then, what do you
want?”
Kai glanced around his shack and then back to me. “A home,” he said.
I stared at him until understanding dawned, and I sighed. “Crap,” I replied. “Cain's going to go mental.”
***
As it happened, Cain was so pleased with the pearls he didn't give a damn if we had another house guest as long as Kai didn't bother him. I didn't think that was going to be a problem. Rodney had run into the Château ahead of me to break the news and Cain had come out demanding to see the pearls. Kai, who had just woken up blinking and disorientated, had taken one look at the murderous expression which was my brother's normal demeanour and hidden behind me, practically quaking.
“It's OK, this charming man is my brother. Cain say hello to Kai.”
Cain dragged his eyes away from the pearls long enough to say, “Hi.” He held out his hand. His arms were bare and Kai stared in horror at the criss-cross patterns of deep scars from innumerable injuries and the black tattoos of dozens of spells that covered every inch of Cain's skin. Kai swallowed and glanced at me for reassurance before taking Cain's hand.
“Hi,” he repeated faintly.
He looked up, and then up some more, at the Château. It was dark now, and I had a sudden flashback to the first time I had seen the place myself, in the dark. I followed Kai's gaze and looked up at the massive structure; there was a great, round tower jutting out on the right and a hexagonal tower, set back slightly behind it. It was an old and beautiful building with lots of dressed stone, fancy chimneys and mullioned windows. The night I had pitched up here for the first time, the idea that I would be staying in the building with Corvus terrified me more than I could say. How things had changed.
I reckoned Kai's expression was the twin of what mine had been that night.
“Hey.” I reached out and took his hand. “It's OK. You're safe here.”