changeling chronicles 03 - faerie realm (6 page)

BOOK: changeling chronicles 03 - faerie realm
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“Oh, that’s what I was going to tell you,” I said. “Yesterday I looked up all the possible hideouts on the Ley Line. I can give you the addresses.”

“They’re probably the same ones I have listed.”

“Okay, no need to rub it in my face. I had to do something useful after you ran off. Speaking of, what was the deal earlier?”

His eyes darkened, all traces of humour vanishing from his expression. “Your neighbour crossed a line.”

“Talking about your family? Your cousin’s family, right?” From what he’d said, I’d gathered Vance’s uncle was also part shifter, but lived over on shifter territory.

One look at Vance’s face told me I wasn’t getting answers.

“Okay. You know all
my
secrets, though. It’s only fair that you share something with me.” I tried for a flirtatious tone, but all my worries had bubbled to the surface again.

Instead of answering, Vance looked down at his phone, which had jumped into his hand. “The half-faerie Chief has agreed to another meeting.”

“What? Since when?”

“Since I insisted on one.”

“You’ve been busy. Ordering cacti, threatening faeries and necromancers…”

“He sent an emissary to the manor to speak to me,” said Vance. “It seems you were right. His territory is experiencing a magical drought—and have been for some time.”

“Wait—they are?” A drought? Thinking about it, their territory had seemed more and more subdued the last few times I’d been there. I’d assumed they were mimicking the changing seasons of the outside world. Not that their magic was fading. “He’d know, wouldn’t he? Unless… unless half-bloods can’t tell, because their magic isn’t as strong.”

“You probably shouldn’t bring that up in front of the Chief.”

“Maybe he’ll take us seriously this time.” Maybe pigs would fly and all the town’s supernaturals would agree not to kill one another for one night. Wishful thinking. “All right. Let’s see what His Grumpiness has to say.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER FIVE

 

This time, the Chief met us at the gate. One glance confirmed my suspicion: he’d realised the situation was serious. The colours behind the gate were faded, the leaves from every plant drooping and rotten. More crucially, though—no magic poured off everything like the first time I’d been here. In fact, there seemed to be no traces of vibrant Summer magic at all.

In Faerie, Summer was always lush, verdant, bursting with colour. Winter was the stark opposite, mostly consisting of dark and creepy forests. But
this—
death everywhere, flowers dying in every corner—looked, well, mortal. Impermanent.

How could I have not noticed before?

The Chief wore his oil-black hair tied back, and armour with a plant-like texture. The dark wood staff he carried looked like the elaborate designs had been painted on, while his tarnished gold crown was equally nondescript. I didn’t like the guy, but I liked the idea of the half-faeries running around without leadership even less. Or worse—someone like Calder in power.

“Ivy Lane,” he said. “The Mage Lord says you know why we are experiencing difficulties with our magic.”

“The Lady of the Tree told me. If you’d listened to me yesterday, I’d have explained.”

His pale green eyes narrowed. “You disrespected me in my own territory.”

“You were acting stupid.” At a warning look from Vance, I stifled several less savoury remarks. “I told the truth. The Lady of the Tree coerced me into helping her find the location of this… missing item. Whatever it is.”

“Coerced you? I wasn’t aware the Lady left her forest.”

“You’re dead wrong there,” I said. “She bound me by a vow when I went looking for information on missing children a few weeks ago. Her information was useless, but apparently I still owed her a favour.”

“If you make a deal with a faerie, you can expect to deliver on your promise,” he said coldly.

“She nearly gutted me. Several times.”

“If you provoked her, as I’m fairly certain you did, it’s your own fault.”

“I didn’t. Much. That’s not the point. If I don’t keep the word of this vow, I’ll die—and believe me, you don’t want that. I’ve saved all your hides twice this month.” Not to mention by killing Avakis, I’d probably saved a few hundred more.

The Chief’s forehead creased in a frown. “I can’t pretend I’d weep if you died, nor will I assign the responsibility of my clan over to you. But the Mage Lord tells me you’ve handled talismans of our magic before.”

I glanced over at Vance, who watched the Chief with a neutral expression, letting me do the talking.

“You mean the sword, right? Avakis’s sword? I don’t know what happened to it.” But I was certain his sword had been where he’d stored his magic. Until I’d taken it away.

“The Invocation. Items of great magical power cannot be unlocked by humans. Only another Sidhe could have taken the heart of a great tree.”

“Wait, really?”

“Or one with Sidhe blood.”

Crap. This didn’t look good. “Calder didn’t have equally evil siblings, did he?” Double crap. I’d never found out if Avakis had other kids. He might have had a hundred affairs with mortal women. Calder had hidden within this very city for his whole life without me having a clue he existed.
Just another problem to add to the list.

In answer, the Chief said, “I don’t know. I’ve told you before, we don’t keep a register. It’s too confusing. People come and go all the time, some decide to embrace their human side, and then there are quarter or eighth-blooded born without magic…” He shrugged in a decidedly un-Chief-like gesture. “It’s not up to me to track everyone in the town who might have faerie ancestry.”

“It should be,” said Vance. “Certainly those with the potential to commit crimes. What about the ones you arrested the other week?”

“In jail, of course,” he said. “They’ve all been questioned. Of the group, the majority fell under the drug’s influence and have few memories of that night.”

“And might any of them have been into Faerie?” asked Vance. “Do any of them have Sidhe blood?”

“No, and probably not. At least, not that they’re aware of. Not all Sidhe tell their children of their parentage when they leave their offspring in this realm.”

“You’re all absolutely delightful, aren’t you?” I said, my temper spiking. “So you can’t help. We need to find a missing object and we have no idea what it looks like, nor where it is, or who even stole the damn thing in the first place—”

“I’m fairly sure I know what it looks like,” said the Chief. “It’ll be a staff or another weapon. All the Great Oaks were used to make weapons, because they’re such powerful stores of magic.”

So my guess had been right. “And your people wanted to demonstrate their power, right?”

“Of course,” he said. “The faerie world is a cutthroat place where the weak die and the strong remain so as long as they cling onto their power with everything they have.”

“Sounds thrilling. I can see why you guys are all dead-set on going back.”

“Do
not
mock me,” snarled the half-faerie. “You’re a human interloper who has no idea what wielding a lord’s magic really means. Soon, you’ll overstep your boundaries and another faerie will rip it away from you. I confess I’d pay to be there when it happens.”

The air turned cold. Even though I’d half expected it, I held still as Vance stepped forward, power crackling off him in all directions. The Chief took a step back, then two, trying and failing not to let his terror seep into his expression.

“Do not speak to my employee like that,” the Mage Lord said in thunderous tones. “If you do so again, expect no mercy from me.”

“Mage Lord.” The Chief swallowed, his gaze darting about. “I meant no disrespect to you.”

“You sure as hell did a good job disrespecting
me,”
I said, determined not to let Vance get the last word in. Though damn if I wasn’t enjoying the show. “Luckily, the feeling’s mutual, and I’ll even ask for
your
help if it means not being skewered by a living tree.”

“The Lady is the most ancient dryad in this realm. She might not have her sanity, but she has her magic and won’t hesitate to use it if you disrespect her.”

“Can we throw the word ‘respect’ out the window?” I asked. “We’re past that now, and it’ll go smoothly for us all if we speak plainly. I need your help, unfortunately. Tell me what you know about the Sidhe. What makes them so special?”

“Ancient bloodlines have the strongest magic,” he said. “Magic builds over time, gaining strength with each passing century. The trees are even more ancient than the Sidhe, which is why they possess so much power at their cores.”

“Huh. Interesting. So what about the swords? Each one belongs to one Sidhe, right? Avakis—I’m sure he put his magic into the sword. Most of it, anyway. It was unbreakable.”

“It’s my understanding that most of the higher Sidhe choose to store their magic in a talisman,” said the Chief.

I frowned. “What about if they’re exiled? They’re allowed to take their weapons with them?”

“No, of course not,” said the Chief.

So Avakis stole his.
Velkas had hinted as much—he’d said Avakis took magic that wasn’t his to begin with. Avakis’s magical essence had been stored in his blade, before I’d taken it. But the sword hadn’t been his in the first place. He’d stolen it, presumably from someone else in the Grey Vale after his exile.

And Velkas… Velkas must have killed someone else to steal theirs and give to Calder, because Avakis’s son had never been to Faerie.

“How long ago?” I asked. “I know time passes weirdly in Faerie, but from what the Lady said, this Great Oak talisman was stolen recently. Who owns them? The Sidhe lords?”

“Yes,” said the Chief. “If a talisman is unclaimed, it belongs to whoever is currently in power.”

“So this could mean—war, in Summer?”

“If they know it’s missing, then possibly. They’ll blame Winter, no doubt. It depends which noble was left in charge of the talisman. I’m not privy to their politics.” Bitterness tinged his voice, though I could tell he was masking his reaction. Being out of touch with Summer really bothered him.

“Do
they
know the Grey Vale exists?” I asked.

“As far as I know… they don’t,” said the Chief, a nervous expression crossing his face. “When they exile people, they must know they’re sending them beyond reach, but the idea of another realm entirely… if they do know, they must assume it’s not a threat.”

“It’s a threat to
us,”
I said. Not to mention, Velkas and Calder had both wanted to draw the attention of the Sidhe who’d cast them out. “Anyway, how common are these tree-forged swords? Am I likely to find one on the market?”

“No,” said the Chief. “They’re rare—incredibly so, especially in this realm. None of the weapons we carry here are tree-forged—not in the sense that they have power stored in them, anyway.”

So his own staff was all for show, then. “So… it’s got to be hidden, if they’re so rare.”

Vance and I exchanged looks. I’d encountered no fewer than three in the comparatively short time I’d been involved with Faerie. What were the odds?

“So will you help us find the sword?” asked Vance. “There are only so many places a magical artefact might be hidden, right?”

“In theory,” said the Chief. “Within this realm, I can’t imagine a store of Summer’s magic could go unnoticed for long.”

“And you didn’t notice
your
magic was fading?” I asked.

“Our territory is sustained by our collective magic, combined. With the chaos around the veil lately, it did occur to me that the balance might have shifted, but I assumed Winter was about to take over.”

Not that Summer was losing its power. Damn. “I don’t get why she wanted
me
to investigate,” I said. “I don’t even have Summer magic, for a start. Not to mention I can’t go to Faerie. I’m not Sidhe.”

“If you did manage to go to Faerie, they’d tear the magic from you with your heart still beating,” said the Chief. “The answers must be in this realm. I will send out my best warriors to investigate the Ley Line.”

“I already have mages watching,” said Vance. “However, sending Summer half-faeries might have its benefit.”

“That was my plan,” said the Chief. “Don’t presume to have won this, Mage Lord. I will do what is necessary to protect my kin. As for
you,
Ivy Lane, stay out of business that doesn’t concern you. If you
do
find the sword, you will give it to me, and I will return it to Faerie myself.”

“Gladly,” I shot at him. “Provided I can prove to the Lady I’ve kept my promise first. So she doesn’t kill me. You ought to put a watch on
her,
too.” And that reminded me. “Has one of your people been near my flat? My neighbour’s kid keeps seeing a faerie outside.”

“What?” he snapped. “No. My people have no interest in you. Besides, as I told you, I’m not responsible for every faerie outside of this territory.”

“Then I’m not responsible if the faerie in question ends up impaled on my sword.”

He hissed out a breath, teeth bared in a snarl. “You try my patience.”

“And you’re trying mine. We’re even. I don’t want to die, you don’t want to lose your magic. Until we’ve solved this problem, we’ll have to agree to a truce.” Even I wouldn’t start another fight now. As little as I cared about him losing his magic, I
did
care if the half-faeries started a war. Finding the sword meant being stuck with him for the foreseeable future.

“Right,” said Vance. “You should ask your people if they’ve seen anyone carrying a sword of the type you describe.”

“And tell them to stay away from shifter territory,” I added, remembering what Isabel had said earlier—a shifter disappeared last night. I’d need to ask her when we got back.

BOOK: changeling chronicles 03 - faerie realm
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