Azuri Fae (15 page)

When he finally got his bearings, Munro saw that the courtyard, which was large enough to hold thousands, had dozens of bridges leading up and outward. If viewed from above, it would have looked like the rays of the sun. Each bridge floated over an expanse of opaque white mist and led to an immense dome in the distance. Each dome must have been the size of a sprawling hamlet at least.

“The Hall of Caledonia is this way,” Eilidh said, nodding toward one of the pathways.

The eyes of all the fae in the courtyard followed them, but conversation resumed as soon as their backs were turned. The bridges were so narrow as to only allow walking single file. Oron led, followed by Eilidh, then Munro. He experienced a touch of vertigo, and he tried to keep his eyes on Eilidh’s back, not looking down into the endless cloud that supported the bridge. He didn’t want to think about what was below them, if there was anything at all.

When they arrived at the end of the path, the huge dome rose up, and an archway led inward, open and unguarded. Inside was a crescent-shaped entryway with many high-arched doorways leading deeper within. As they entered, Munro was surprised to see Prince Griogair standing among other faeries sedately going about their business. “Greetings, honoured guests,” he said warmly, addressing Oron. The elder only slightly inclined his head, while Eilidh curtsied deeply.

Munro had no idea what to do, so he said, “Hello.”

A look of amusement passed briefly over Griogair’s face. “Elder Oron, the queen requests your presence as soon as you are ready. She awaits in Autumn Hall. I will escort you, if you will allow me.”

“I would be most honoured, Your Highness,” Oron replied.

“Eilidh, I will entertain you and your druid for now. The queen wishes to see you after she has conducted business with Oron.”

“Of course, Your Highness.” Eilidh followed behind as the prince led the three through one of the doors and down a corridor.

The translucent walls of the hallways went all the way to the glass-like domed city roof. Munro could see black granite floors above, and it gave the entire place a dizzying feel, like he was trapped in a maze. The angles felt sharp and strangely placed, as though the architect was high when he drew up the plans.

Griogair showed Oron to a huge wooden door, where a steward greeted them and showed the elder inside. When they were alone, Prince Griogair gestured to an archway across the hall. “We can wait in here.”

“Sounds good,” Munro said as they went inside. “Maybe then you can explain why you lied.”

“Quinton!” Eilidh hissed.

Munro hadn’t realised they weren’t alone, and the dozen or so faeries in the chamber froze. When he sensed the genuine fear in Eilidh’s mind, he understood how stupid he’d been. He was a long way from home. Without Eilidh, he wouldn’t make it to the portal, much less through the Otherworld and back to a gate. If by some miracle he did find a gate, the likelihood of finding the right one was remote. On the other hand, Griogair needed a little shaking up. He’d been blase about the truth, at the very least. Quite possibly, he intentionally sent Munro and Eilidh blindly into a dangerous situation.

Griogair smiled at the others in the room. “They’re so delightfully impetuous, don’t you think?” The tension in the room dissipated. The others replied with subtle signs of agreement, a nod or tilt of the chin. Munro found the fae’s indirect way of communicating both fascinating and exhausting. He preferred plain speech, something he wasn’t likely to hear any time soon.

The prince turned his eyes to Eilidh. “You look delicious.” His tone was low and seductive, and the way his gaze roamed over Eilidh’s gown made Munro’s blood boil. He remembered Eilidh’s warning that Griogair pretended Eilidh was his lover. But facing it like this, so soon after Munro had been in her bed, wasn’t easy to swallow.

Eilidh blushed and cast a glance at Munro that he couldn’t read. Turning to the prince, she said with an intimate smile, “It’s always a pleasure to see you, Griogair. How unfortunate we won’t have time to be alone.” Her purring voice was barely above a whisper, but Munro had no doubt every ear in the chamber heard the soft seduction in her tone.

Griogair responded by taking her hand and kissing it. “What makes you think we won’t have time?”

“My druid will not leave my side. We are at a point in our magical bonding that would make him reluctant to be parted from me.”

Munro wanted to scream. Was she
actually
batting her eyelashes? This was not the Eilidh he knew.

“If you wish him to join us, I’m always open to new things.” Griogair took his eyes away from Eilidh as though with difficulty and glanced to the others in the room. “The rest of you may go,” he said.

They filed out silently, and the last one stayed in the doorway, facing the hall. Griogair released Eilidh’s hand. “That is Reine. He will see we are not disturbed.” Then with a glance at Munro he added with a sigh, “You’re going to get us all killed.” The prince gestured to a set of low, sloped chairs shaped out of cherry wood.

Eilidh sat, but Munro stood and looked Griogair in the eye. “You very nearly got us killed already. Why didn’t you tell us about your son?”

“You found him?”

Munro glanced at Eilidh, whose gaze implored him to sit as she motioned to the chairs. “Your Highness,” she began, “We can’t be sure it was Trath.”

“It was him,” Munro said as he sat next to Eilidh. “He looks a lot like you.”

“Thank you,” Griogair said, joining them. “You’re right, of course. I didn’t tell you everything. I had hoped no one would need to know.”

“Know what?” Munro asked.

It was Eilidh, not the prince, who answered. “That the crown prince is gifted in the Path of Stars.” She shook her head with disbelief. “He is azuri fae.”

“But you said you didn’t recognise his magic.” Munro turned to her. “I thought that meant it was some kind of earth magic you hadn’t learned, since you’re weakest in the Ways of Earth.”

“Where is he?” Griogair asked eagerly.

“We have no idea,” Eilidh said. “He disappeared before our eyes. This is no magic I am familiar with. Your Highness, I
must
have your permission to speak to the Higher Conclave. Surely you can see this is the only way. Otherwise we are working with the glare of the sun in our eyes.”

“No,” the prince said firmly. “Things have gotten difficult enough already, and with your druid’s display today, there will be even more rumours. At least now,” he said with a wry chuckle, “the rumours will be about an intimate encounter for three. And with a human involved. That should increase my reputation as a licentious profligate.”

“It seems to be a well-practised subterfuge,” Munro said, having difficulty showing any respect, even knowing Griogair could have them both killed on the spot without even getting his hands dirty.

The prince ignored the comment. “I planned to tell you to stop looking for him. Soon after you left our last meeting, my retreat was swarmed with the queen’s guard. They claimed to be there in advance of my wife’s visit, and indeed she did come, but after a few hours, she left again. Never before have they been worried about
security
in my home. She grows more paranoid. Even still, I got the distinct impression she was disappointed to find me alone.”

“Why?” Eilidh asked.

“If she’d caught me with a maiden in my bed, she would not have to suspect me of treason.” He paused. “Things have gotten dangerous for all of us. You must stop looking for Trath. It comforts me to know he is alive, and for now that has to be enough.”

“I can’t do that,” Munro said. “I have an even bigger problem than your spat with your wife.”

Griogair raised an elegant eyebrow.

“I have forty-five missing villagers. We don’t know what happened, but my people know it’s something strange. It’s my job to get them back. Maybe Trath took them. Maybe they saw him and ran off when he did some weird magic thing. I don’t know yet, but I know they disappeared because of your son. Locating him is my concern, whether you want him found or not.”

“You cannot do this,” Griogair said, leaning forward in his seat. “Please. There is growing unrest in the kingdom.”

“What happened?” Eilidh asked.

“This is the reason Cadhla asked to speak to Oron and why she wanted to do it here. As the word has spread of the colony, and of your actions to save Caledonia last summer, the kingdom has grown divided. Many want those who follow the Path of Stars found and stamped out.” A sympathetic frown spread across his face. “Others, though, especially ones who have lost children or friends to execution or exile, not to mention some progressive thinkers, feel the fear is destroying us, and they want to see the azuri restored to the kingdom.”

“Exile is one thing, but how could Queen Cadhla pursue stamping out those who follow the Path of Stars when her only child is gifted with that form of magic? We aren’t dangerous to you.” Sadness rolled off Eilidh as she implored the prince, and Munro felt the pang deeply in his own emotions.

Griogair turned to Munro. “Do what you must in your own world, but I can help you no further. The rift in my people is spreading, and quickly. There is unrest like I have never seen.”

“You would abandon your son?” Munro asked.

A pained expression spread over the prince’s face. “Not by choice and not forever. I will find him. I will restore him to his rightful place, but I need time. I’m holding the queen’s council together with a thread. The conclave has crippled itself by allowing the usual divisions to splinter even further.”

For the first time, Munro felt a certain respect for the prince. He was a lot more than he first appeared, but perhaps that was his plan all along. It was easy to dismiss him as a playboy, but he was willing to sacrifice his own desire to find his son for the sake of his people. That couldn’t be easy. “It would help if I could speak to his friends, to the Watchers who helped him cross into the borderlands.”

“No. I’m sorry. You have no idea how this pains me. Find him if you can, but you’ll have to do it without my help.” His violet eyes glowed in the dim light. “I wish you the best of fortunes, my friend. I need you to do this. You don’t know me, and you probably don’t even like me. I’m not your ruler…”

“Don’t worry about that,” Munro said. “I’ll help any way I can.” Ten minutes ago, Munro had hated the guy, but suddenly he understood the prince.

“Thank you,” Griogair said. “I have said this to Eilidh, but I give you my pledge as well. I will give you anything you ask if you return my son to me.”

Munro dismissed it with a wave of his hand. “It’s my job, sir.”

“You must do it quietly and without involving the azuri conclave. My son’s abilities cannot be made public.”

“Surely it would heal the kingdom if you came forward. If the queen herself could have an azuri child, everyone would realise it’s not a curse but a gift,” Eilidh said.

Griogair chuckled. “You’d have to convince Cadhla of that first. She cannot know of this. If the queen learned what has passed between us…”

“And just what,” asked a voice from the doorway, “has passed between you three?”

The faerie striding toward them was tall, blonde, and magnificent. Every aspect of her was flawless, from her delicate skin, to the magnificent ivory gown she wore. Her eyes locked on Eilidh, who dipped into a deep curtsy.

“Your Majesty,” Eilidh said, and Munro bowed low as well, not daring to show any sign of disrespect. It was one thing to mouth off to Griogair, but Munro could tell this woman wasn’t someone he wanted to mess with.

Magic crackled in the air, causing the hairs on Munro’s arms to stand on end. “Get up,” the queen said to Eilidh before turning her attention to Griogair. “I asked you a question.”

“I was entertaining our guests, Cadhla,” the prince said, holding out a hand to encourage a frightened Eilidh to rise.

“And with your clothes on, for once.” The queen seemed less than charmed. “I heard otherwise. I came to see the entertainments for myself.” Sarcasm dripped from her voice.

“Alas,” Griogair said, his features well-schooled and serious. “Eilidh’s druid showed some reluctance. But then, we’ve always known his people are more restrained than ours in the pursuit of pleasure.” He glanced at Munro, who felt a tug at his emotions, similar to what Alyssa had used when she invited him to bed her.

Munro realised the prince was trying to send him a message with this magic, but he didn’t know how to respond, so he just looked down.

The prince touched Munro’s face. “He blushes prettily though.”

“You can cease this pointless charade, Griogair,” the queen said, her red lips crinkled into a pucker of distaste. “Even you would not go so far.”

“Cadhla, I assure you, I don’t know what you mean.”

“
Your Majesty,
” she corrected him and then spat, “You have betrayed me. You and your worthless son. Return to Elmerick at once. I will deal with you when I arrive.” She turned to Eilidh. “We are in the Halls of Mist, and you came at my request, so I cannot touch you for your treachery. Your elder waits at the portal. You have this night only to pass through and return to your exile. If you ever set foot in my kingdom again, or if anyone finds out what you know about the boy, it will be war, and you will pay with your life.” With a cruel smile, she added, “And that of your father. He won’t, I think, be leaving his house again. His life will ensure your cooperation, I hope. As long as you remember your duty, he will live well.”