Grandmother Coyote smiled softly—or as softly as the steel-toothed seer could. “Yes, as a matter of fact. There is. Illusions—both bred of magic and bred of your own fears—surround you. When you get to your home, remember this: What seems born of shadow and fire may turn to brilliance and become the path to your future. And what appears lovely and fair and wise on the outside might just be harboring dark secrets that could be your undoing.”
She paused, then added, “On a separate note from the rest, walk softly, Camille. You have made an enemy and he will not easily forget you, nor what he sees as a betrayal that was inspired by you.”
My heart skipped a beat. This was sounding worse and worse. The more I thought about it, the less I was looking forward to the coming trip. The Hags of Fate were seldom wrong. “Not Trillian?”
She flashed me a cagey smile, her teeth gleaming under the ripening Moon. “No, my dear, not your beloved Svartan. But I fear there will be much danger in the approaching months for you, and not all coming from the demons. There are several ways the Wheel can turn, and one of them holds an ugly and painful future for you. Be on your guard. Don’t discount what has been—or what will be—threatened. You and your loves are powerful, but there are crafty agents at work who have lived far longer than you and who have no scruples.”
That was the longest and clearest warning Grandmother Coyote had ever given me, other than the first time we met. I swallowed the gorge rising in my throat, not wanting to think about yet another enemy on my tail. I waited to see if she’d say more but she fell silent.
“Okay, what do you want for the information?” The cost would likely be as steep as Everest, and almost as daunting.
But she surprised me again when she shook her head. “This was a freely given gift. Because I truly fear for you, girl. Morio, watch over her well, especially when you return from Y’Eírialiastar.”
The fact that she hadn’t asked for a price, and that she’d used the formal name for Otherworld sent a river of ice careening through my blood. The Hags of Fate didn’t always see the complete picture, or if they did they kept it quiet, but they were never mistaken about the possibilities that lay ahead.
I said nothing, just gazed into her luminous eyes. And in the whirling reflection that gazed back at me, I saw myself careening into a treacherous cycle. I tried to look away, but it was too late. A catalyst had been set in motion and, whatever it was, was aimed directly at me. Wondering if there was a way to get off the not-so-merry-go-round, I opened my mouth to ask her for specific guidance, but she turned away and blended into the shadows.
Morio pressed his hand against my lower back and motioned to the portal, which was hidden within a large cedar. As we approached the trunk, the bark wavered and vanished and we were facing the brilliant static that surrounded the energy of the portal. It was time. Time to see my father again. Time to reunite with Trillian. Time to find out what Iris’s vision was all about.
I glanced back at Iris and Morio. “Are you ready?”
They nodded. The Talon-haltija had remained silent throughout most of the journey and when Grandmother Coyote had been talking, her face had gone white as a sheet. She still looked scared spitless, but I had a feeling it wasn’t for herself. And yet—she herself was traveling to face something from her past, something dark that she couldn’t yet talk about.
So many secrets. So many paths that might be. So many dangers.
Taking a deep breath, I stared at the crackling sparks that would whisk us back to my homeland, and then, without a word, stepped into the maelstrom that tore apart body and soul and renewed them on the other end.
CHAPTER 9
Grandmother Coyote’s portal was linked to a large cavern near the Barrow Mounds that bordered Elqaneve, the elfin city. There were several portals in the cave, and a few outside the Barrow Mounds. I looked around for one of the guards. We were to portal jump to Y’Elestrial to meet my father, then we’d jump again to Dahnsburg. Not many people could afford to take the portals. Prices were steep, and some were strictly reserved for government usage, but there were a handful open to the public and one of those in Y’Elestrial was hooked up to the Wayfarer Bar & Grill.
Near the front of the cave, I caught sight of someone we knew. Trenyth—Queen Asteria’s personal assistant. I waved to him and, looking surprised to see us, he hurried over.
“Is something wrong?” he asked, his ageless gaze taking in the three of us.
“No. Well, nothing a good demon repellant couldn’t take care of. But we’re not here because of that. We’re meeting my father, then heading to Dahnsburg where Trillian’s waiting for me.”
Trenyth gave me a gentle smile. “Ah, Trillian, is it? I’m so glad that he came through this alive. I felt so bad for you when we had to hide the fact that he was on a secret mission and we told you he’d vanished.”
I sighed. I still hadn’t forgiven them for scaring me to death, but then again, being a member of the OIA, I understood the nature of top-secret missions. “I know you did, Trenyth. You’re a good man, and the Queen is lucky to have you in her service.”
He blushed. “My thanks, Lady Camille. At least Trillian’s free to go home with you now. With Tanaquar in control of your city, he can remove himself from the war. There are still skirmishes going on but nothing the new regime can’t take care of.” He flipped through a sheaf of papers. “But stay for a moment. I believe the Queen was going to send someone over to talk to you. She may prefer to do so while you’re here in Elqaneve.”
“But we aren’t all here—” I started to say, then stopped. When the Elfin Queen called, we jumped. She was far more powerful than she looked and she was our ally. “We can spare an hour or so.”
Trenyth motioned for us to take a seat while he headed over to the Whispering Mirror that was set up near the entrance of the barrow.
A thousand years ago, the Barrow Mounds had been the home of an oracle to the elves and protector of the portal. She walked in shadow. Half-Svartan, half-elf, her ability to read the future was uncanny. But she’d been killed during a skirmish with bandits and ever since, the Barrow Mounds had been haunted. The mound over the cavern was barren—no grass grew atop it, nor any plants. It was a stark hillock in the center of the lush fields of Kelvashan—the elfin lands.As we settled down on a bench to wait, Iris tapped my arm. “Can you feel it? Spirits walk these mounds. They’re here, watching us.”
I glanced at Morio. He took my hand in his and we closed our eyes as we slowly breathed our way into a trance. The air was so clear and fine compared to over Earthside, and the hairs on the back of my neck began to stand. Iris was right. Spirits walked these ancient halls.
As I opened my eyes, I could see them—faint outlines of knights, wounded in battle, of elfin women so translucent I knew they must be far older than most of the Fae I’d met. They didn’t notice us, didn’t look at us, just wandered along their paths. I wondered why they hadn’t returned to their ancestors. What kept them bound to the mortal world?
As Trenyth returned, I let out a long sigh. “Who are they? The ghosts who haunt this area? Why can’t they rest?”
Looking a little startled, he glanced at Morio and then at Iris. “So you can sense them? I should have known you would, especially with the magic you two are mucking about with.” He nodded to Morio and me, then turned to Iris. “And of course you would feel them, Priestess Ar’jant d’tel.”
Her face clouded over. “Priestess I am, yes. But that title was stripped from my name long ago. I’ve no right to use it,” she said, her voice strained. “Please do not call me that again.”
Ar’jant d’tel . . . Ar’jant d’tel . . . The word was familiar and I struggled to remember my dialects. And then it came to me. Ar’jant d’tel was of the ancient tongue and meant “chosen by the gods.” It usually referred to someone who had accorded an extreme honor. I sidled a glance at Iris but her face was pale and her lips were pressed tight.
Trenyth stared at her for a moment, his eyes gentle. He put one hand on her shoulder and softly said, “I did not mean to offend. Some paths are closed by chance and some by fate. And some, by the gods themselves for reasons that are beyond our ken. Rest easy, Lady Iris. You are not what you were accused of being.” At her startled glance, he added, “I have many gifts and one is to read the past. Come now, all of you.” He nodded to Morio and me. “Queen Asteria awaits you in the palace. She promised this won’t take long.”
Wanting nothing more than to corner him in a room and ask him about Iris, I managed to keep my mouth shut. As we followed him, Iris walked in front, her shoulders back and her face once again impassive.
The Barrow Mounds were on the outskirts of Elqaneve. Trenyth and two guards led us through the cobblestone streets. It was evening and the seasons were turning just as they were over Earthside. The air was chill and crisp; the stars shone brilliantly overhead without the glare of light pollution. The flower boxes that lined the houses and shops were decked with herbs rather than the spring and summer flowers, ready to harvest and dry for the winter. Soft lights glimmered from within the shrouded windows.
The few elves who were out and about gave us little notice, most just bowing as Trenyth passed by.
As I inhaled a long breath of clear, clean air, I realized how glad I was to be home again. Elqaneve might be the elfin city, but it was part of Otherworld. But even though the thought of staying here appealed to me, I knew it would never be that simple. Earthside had become home, too, and I was pulled by both sides of my heritage.
As if he could sense my conflicting feelings, Morio closed ranks and took my hand, holding it tightly as we walked, but even his touch led to more confusion. Soul-bound as I was to him and Smoky, that meant that they would have to be near me. Wherever I chose to make my home had to be a place they would be comfortable, too. Frustrated, I pushed away the yammering thoughts. Under Shadow Wing’s threat, all thoughts of the future were on hold anyway.
Up ahead, the alabaster façade adorning Queen Asteria’s palace shone in the evening light. The stones were quarried from the Tygerian Mountains to the west. Surrounded by gardens and stands of ancient oaks, the palace was far simpler in design than the one in Y’Elestrial. Yet, the power here was stronger.
Of all the rulers in Y’Eírialiastar—Otherworld—the Elfin Queen was among the oldest and her presence permeated the grounds of the royal court as if she, herself, were part of the land upon which it was built. Perhaps she was. Perhaps she’d become so enmeshed with her city over the millennia that one could not stand without the other.
Trenyth led us into a great hall, the throne room. Carved from oak and holly, the Queen’s throne reminded me of the throne belonging to the High Priestess of the Moon Mother, but this one was more polished, not quite so wild. I glanced around for Queen Asteria, but she was nowhere in sight.
“Follow me,” Trenyth said. He led us into a closed chamber that I remembered from the first time I’d stood before the Elfin Queen when Smoky, Delilah, and I had delivered the first spirit seal to her. Had it really only been a month shy of a year since we’d discovered Shadow Wing’s plans and entered the war? So much had changed since then.
Thoughtful, I said nothing. Queen Asteria was staring at a map of Otherworld. She turned at our entrance, a troubled smile on her face. Motioning to the chairs, she indicated we were to take our seats at the polished table.
“Welcome, my young Moon Witch,” she said, her face crinkling. Though she didn’t look anywhere near as ancient as Grandmother Coyote, Queen Asteria had her own map of roads and valleys carved in her face. She turned to Morio. “And good meeting to you, youkai. Iris, I’m pleased to see you looking so well. Trenyth tells me you are making your journey to retrieve Trillian.”
“Yes, we’re meeting him in Dahnsburg, after we stop to see my father in Y’Elestrial. I haven’t seen the city since the war,” I murmured. “I’m almost afraid to see how bad it got munched.”
“There was widespread destruction.” Trenyth winced. “You should be prepared. The spires of Queen Tanaquar’s palace will gleam again, though—so don’t be too disheartened by what the war has wrought upon your homeland.”
“I won’t keep you long,” the Queen said. “But I must tell you something. I was going to send Trenyth over to speak with you but when he said you were here already . . . Do you know why you are to meet Trillian in Dahnsburg?”
I shook my head. To be honest, I’d been wondering that myself. Dahnsburg was a port city on the western banks of the Silofel Plains, which were part of the Windwillow Valley. The Dahns Unicorns made their royal court there, but the city was comprised of many differing races of Fae and Crypto. Just what Trillian was doing there, I had no idea.
“Feddrah-Dahns’s father—the King of the Dahns Unicorns—wants to speak to you. I will not tell you why, that is his concern. But I shall tell you that this meeting is vital, given the treasure you carry. I can sense that you brought the horn with you?” Her face clouded over.
A little knot of worry began to churn in my stomach. I’d gotten used to being a pawn of the Hags of Fate, and perhaps even the gods, but now the unicorns were sticking their hooves in the mix?
“If you won’t tell me why the Dahns King wants to see me, then perhaps you can give me some advice for when I meet him? I don’t want to piss him off, and I’m not up to snuff on my unicorn etiquette. In fact, even after meeting Feddrah-Dahns, I’m a little shaky on just how one greets four-footed royalty.”