Here Be Monsters [2] (10 page)

"Of course I did. I need you to get Geld over to your place—unless the police are still there?" Siobhan paused as the tall elf moved around Keith's car to the passenger side.
 

"No..no they're gone," Keith watched Geld get in before he turned a panicked look to Siobhan. "What the hell did you do? You break him out?"
 

"Yes and no," she rubbed at the bridge of her nose before she shielded her eyes from the sun. "Just get him to your place and dressed. I'll be there in about an hour."
 

"Yes ma'am." He winced at the sound of his voice but got into the car. Siobhan turned and sprinted toward the line of motorcycles to her Ducati.
 

He cranked the Jaguar and backed up before he glanced over at Geld who was buckling himself in. "You want to fill me in?"
 

The rather intimidating elf fixed him in an emerald gaze. Keith was always amazed at the slit pupils the elves had. "You care to tell me why you're doing what Siobhan says? Last I remember of you—Keith Song right—you were more apt to expose her for some bloodsucker than do what she says."
 

Keith calmly drove the car from the parking lot and turned onto the expressway before he answered. "Let's just say…she saved my life."
 

"From a Fallen."
 

"Yeah."
 

"You've been ghouled."
 

"Yeah." Keith checked his rear view mirror. "You could say that."
 

To his surprise, Geld laughed. It was a pleasant sound. Deep and very melodic. As a reporter, Keith had been near the Captain on occasion when covering a story, but he'd never spoken directly to him. "Abyssinian is not gonna like that."
 

"Oh?" Keith didn't know what to think about Geld mentioning his younger brother. Especially in such a familial tone. "Why's that?"
 

"Because Aby's very possessive. And he doesn't like anyone getting in the way of what he wants." Geld shook his head and patted Keith's shoulder. "I'll go ahead and thank you now. Just in case I don't see you again."
 

Oh. Great.
 

"Are you insane?"
Illeië's voice rose as high as the Great Hall's rafters. A pair of doves cooed in panic before they flew away through the open breezeways. "You can't close Underhill off, Thomas. If you do we
will
disappear."
 

"That's only a myth," Thom fired back. He hadn't expected the Healer to come to him here. She so rarely ventured away from her trees and her sacred springs. He'd already questioned her on how she knew of his intent to close the cairns but she'd avoided that question. "Underhill existed for a millennium before the cairns were built. And it will exist again."
 

But Illeië wasn't going to back down or go away. And truth be told, he had no real power to force her to do anything. She was the oldest of the elves in the High Court. And by right she held more of a position of power than he did. "You will not destroy the cairns, Thomas Rhymer. By doing that you will trap our people in the mortal realm."
 

"Those that are in the mortal realm are there by choice. Many of them haven't returned here in decades. I was charged by Titania to keep the realm safe."
 

"You were charged by Oberon—not Titania—to hold his rule until he returned."
 

He finally turned and faced her. "Why, Illeië? Why did the King find it so important to go to the Mortal Realm when his kingdom here needed him? What was so important there that he left his rule to me? I know about the Fallen, Illeië. I know he's there tracking one down. Why not ask for help?"
 

Illeië opened her mouth, but then closed it. "The reasons were his alone. And as king, it was his prerogative."
 

"Then as Regent this is my prerogative. I will protect this land—the cairns will be closed."
 

"With Oberon forever trapped in the Mortal Realm, Thomas?" Illeië's voice held a note of danger. "You really think the Elders will agree to this?"
 

"I will not be asking the Elders," Thom said. He took a menacing step toward the taller elf. "And if you continue to question me, I will have you removed to the Mortal Realm as well. I have the backing to do it. I would suggest if you don't want anything else to happen to your precious prince, you return to your place in the Court and stay there. Quietly."
 

Talking to her like that was a risk. He knew she had no military magic. Nothing she could strike with. Unlike Abyssinian's whose magic and sword were a force to be reckoned with. She wouldn't attack him here, in the Great Hall. But he needed her gone so when Xe-Faun returned he wouldn't see her and start to question Thom's actions.
 

Illeië stood up to her full height and her long white hair still ended at her fingertips. The silver filigree crown that encircled her forehead reflected the light of the sun as she turned and left him.
 

When he was sure she was gone, Thom half-collapsed against a nearby wall. Illeië was the gentlest of creatures and angering her was a risk. But he needed her preoccupied with Abyssinian. With the prince out of the way, and Oberon incarcerated in the mortal realm, he had the perfect opportunity to finally bring all travel between worlds to a halt.
 

And once he had all but one of the cairns destroyed, then he could control the single gate and perhaps offer sanctuary to the one who showed him where the second Winterbourne was hiding. Once he or she was in his hands, then the last cairn could be destroyed and the Fallen could never enter into Underhill.
 

His world would be safe.
 

It was a noble plan. And he felt Titania would have approved.
 

Abyssinian
sensed Illeië's anger before he saw her. He was up on his own feet, dressed in soft white pants and a blood soaked bandage wrapped tightly around his chest. With one hand on the wall he was trying to walk—to force himself better. He'd had cold iron poison before. He glanced at the fading scar around his wrist where Oberon had held him in his basement by a single iron shackle.
 

Two weeks passed before he was completely free of the effects—something he'd not told Siobhan when he'd come to her aid. He'd been slowed by the wound and the poison when they'd been attacked in that blood bank, and hadn't really known if what he'd learned was true about his blood. What Oberon had said.
 

So when he'd fallen so easily by their attacker's magic, having her drink his blood was a fool's gamble.
 

And Oberon had been right.
 

He knew he was going to repeat the same mistake again. Too weak to fight, or even defend Siobhan. But she was in trouble—he could feel it. His dreams had told him.
 

"Abyssinian Geld!"
 

He winced when he heard her behind him. He continued to brace himself against the wall as he turned to see her glide toward him. And then she was beside him, her right shoulder under his left, her right arm around his waist, pressing hard against the wound.
 

Abyssinian moaned and saw stars as his knees gave and he went limp in her arms.
 

"You see," she hissed in his ear and ushered another attendant to help her drag him back to the bed. "You are too weak to leave. Too weak to fight. You have to stay here and recover."
 

"No…" he managed to say as he lay on his back and waited for the ceiling to stop spinning. "Illeië I can't…please…I have to go to her. She's in danger. If this Fallen goes after her…if it smells my blood on her…" he focused on Illeië. "Silira said she saw Siobhan at the jail when she spoke to Oberon. And it was daylight. That means she drank one of the vials of blood. And if that thing comes to her—"
 

The healer's eyes widened. "I had not thought of that prince. But it can't be helped. You can do nothing for her. And I've heard a lot about this Siobhan O'Donnell. I'm sure she can take care of herself."

"Not against this," and he reached out and took Illeië's hand. "Not this thing. Silira told me about it. It's not like anything she's ever encountered before. And it's not after her—it's after me—"
 

"Which is why you and Silira have to stay here in Underhill." She squeezed his hand and sat on the bed beside him. "Aby, it can't get to you. If it does, it breaks the curse—"
 

"I know that," he hissed and tried to sit up—only the pain in his side robbed him of strength again. Damn Thom and his twisted loyalties. "But I have magic, Illeië. Magic that's ten times more powerful in the mortal realm. Please…I have to protect her. At least let me bring her here—"
 

"But Aby she'll burn here!"
 

"Not if she drinks my blood," he said quickly. "We've tested it and four ounces of it can sustain her in daylight for up to eight hours. If she drinks more then the time is longer. At least let me get her out of danger as well—and then I promise to rest and recover."
 

"But…" she shook her head. "Even if I agreed to that—you can't even stand up. There's no way you can get to Siobhan in this condition."
 

"There's one way," he said and took a deep breath. "The
vesta en' coia
."
 

"No."
 

"Illeië—"
 

"No." She was on her feet. "I will not do that."
 

"But you're a healer—"
 

"That is not healing, Abyssinian," Illeië turned away and took several steps from his bed. "I don't know what you were told about that spell—about what it does—but it couldn't have been the truth if you're asking me to actually do it."
 

Abyssinian pushed himself up and managed to sit, though he clutched at his side. "I—I know it allows the caster to give some of their life energy to the cursed. That it will speed up the healing fo—"
 

"No."
 

"No? But I've seen it used," he held out his free hand. "And it worked."
 

"What you saw was only the external. The
vesta en' coia
does give over life, but it has a price, prince. Like all magic does. If I were to set this spell on you—I would give you enough energy to move and fight—"
 

Abyssinian opened his mouth to speak but she held up her hand and he sat back.
 

"—but only
temporarily
. And the would would still be there. It works like a tidal wave. My life force would wash over you and give you strength, but then that wave would return back to me, and it would take the exact same energy back," she held up her index and middle fingers. "Times two."
 

His eyes widened. No. He hadn't heard that part of the spell at all. "You mean it'll take back what it gave, and then that much more?"
 

"Yes. Don't you see? You'd be worse off after it was done. And I can't even tell you how long it would last. The spell is twisting—" she stopped and looked down.

"What? Please Illeië—it can't be much worse than that."
 

"It is. It's the reason the
vesta en' coia
was used in battle so often. A soldier could be dying and be cursed with the
vesta en' coia
—and they would rise and battle some more—but when the spell ended, if the soldier didn't have enough of their own energy left to give, it would take from the closest source."
 

"You mean," Abyssinian sat back, his hand on the edge of the cushioned bed. "It would take from the enemy the soldier is fighting as well?"
 

"Yes. It would diminish them. And the conjurer would grow that much stronger. No," she shook her head. "I won't do that, Abyssinian."

"I'll take the risk," he pleaded. "Please Illeië—I can't just lay here and not help her."
 

"What if you're beside her when it ends? What if it takes her?"
 

"Then I'll stay away from her."
 

She looked at him for a while before she finally answered, "Then it defeats the purpose of going and retrieving her. No. You will remain here. Safe. Just as Silira will. I will see about the Rhymer's foolishness with the cairns and I will stop him. Your vampire will be fine, Aby. And when it's all done,
 
you can return to the mortal realm stronger."
 

And she was gone.
 

Abyssinian's shoulders slumped forward as he felt the will drain from him. He hated this—hated being weak. Just when Siobhan needed him more than ever. As if in defiance of the truth, he stood, started across the floor—but the sun streaming in the arched windows blurred and he fell to the ground.
 

He landed on his back and lay still, trying very hard not to lose consciousness as the iron poison continued to sap him of strength.
 

- 12 -

Siobhan arrived at Keith's house after an hour and was surprised to hear—

Laughter?
 

It looked like Keith had done a pretty good job cleaning up the place—even the bucket of his blood was gone. The furniture was new and still wrapped in brown paper but that didn't seem to stop Oberon and the new Ghoul from sitting on it, beers in hand, with bowls of high fat snacks littering a coffee table with the big screen tuned to some sport.
 

"Hey Siobhan," Oberon waved at her briefly and turned back to Keith. The elf lord had showered, coiffed his hair and was now dressed in a pressed white shirt, tight jeans and white socks.
 

He looked good.
 

"Hi boss lady," Keith said and jumped off the couch. "Is there anything I can get for you?"
 

"No," Siobhan said as she crossed to the large screen and unplugged it. It was easier than trying to find the remote. She turned and faced both of them. "This isn't a vacation. And Oberon you know they're going to come looking for you if they haven't already."