Kindling Flames: Flying Sparks (The Ancient Fire Series Book 2) (15 page)

Darien held his hand out for Vicky’s bag. “Let me have that.”

Pulling it off, she handed the leather satchel to him.

He fished around in it for a moment and pulled out a black velvet bag before setting the messenger bag back into the passenger seat of the car. “We won’t need that.” He emptied the smaller bag into the palm of his hand. The sunlight sparkled on something silver hidden by his fingers.

He tossed the little bag back into the car before shutting the door and turning to Vicky. Darien held up the silver object by a dark leather cord so she could see it. It was a two-inch, round medallion with an iridescent, white stone in the center. “This is for your protection,” Darien said very seriously. He separated the ends of the cord and stepped close to Vicky, so he could tie it around her neck. The medallion was cool and rested comfortably on her chest. “Whatever you do, don’t take it off.”

She looked up into his face and was startled to see fangs where they normally weren’t. Darien place one hand on her shoulder so she wouldn’t back away and bit the tip of his index finger with a fang. Vicky watched the droplet of blood well up as he squeezed the injured finger. She held her breath as he placed the droplet of blood on the white stone. Covering the medallion with his hand, Darien spoke a few words Vicky didn’t recognize. She gasped when a crackle of energy washed across her skin as the spell took effect. “Don’t take it off,” Darien repeated as he leaned forwards and placed a kiss on Vicky’s brow.

“What is it?” she asked. She was a little stunned by Darien’s tenderness. He took her by the hand and led her to a hidden path in the wood. Her feet followed him automatically as her brain recovered.

“It’s a protection spell,” he explained. “The highest I know.” Darien watched the ground as they walked.

“Um... do I really need this?” She looked down at the medallion. The heavy chunk of silver had strange writing around the outer edges and looked like some kind of wheel. The stone in the center had absorbed the blood and now shone deep red.

“Probably not.” Darien looked around for something. “But, extra care is always needed when dealing with the fay.”

Vicky stumbled along the path. “Fay?” she asked. He had mentioned fay before.

“We’ll be meeting with the Gray Courts this evening,” Darien explained as he turned down another, less-worn path. “I’m kind of pushing my invitation by bringing you, but it’s necessary.”

“Why?” Vicky still didn’t understand what was going on.

“I need them to look at the burn on your hand,” he explained. “There’s magic there beyond my knowledge. I’m hoping I can convince Lady Aine
to give you safe passage. Mortals are usually not safe in the mound.
” He turned down another path that was almost nonexistent.

“What happens if she doesn’t?” Vicky wasn’t sure she wanted to know what the answer was.

“Then you’ll sit in my lap the entire time we’re here,” Darien said very seriously. “But, I’m sure she’ll agree once I’ve shown her why we’re here.” He led Vicky into a clearing and stopped. “Now where did they put the entrance?”

Holding on to her hand, he walked around, looking at the rocks and trees at the edge of the glade.

Vicky looked around, trying to see what Darien saw.

“Why do they always move the entrance when they know someone is coming?” he grumbled.

She stifled a giggled at the unusual comment.

“Here it is!” His foot scuffed over a rock on the ground.

Vicky looked down at the stone between two trees, but she didn’t see anything special about it.

Darien turned to her and took both of her hands in his. “This is important.”

She stared up at him attentively.

“No matter what happens, don’t let go of my hand until after we’ve spoken with Lady Aine and Lord Dakine. Understand?”

Vicky nodded. “Don’t let go of your hand,” she repeated.

“And?”

“Don’t take the necklace off,” she answered.

“Good.” Darien released her left hand and laced his fingers tightly with the ones on her right. “Don’t believe what your eyes tell you in here. The fay use glamour to confuse and bewilder mortals. Just stay close and don’t let go of my hand.” He led her around a tree and across the stone he had kicked at.

Vicky felt a tingle brush against her skin, like she had stepped into thick cobwebs. She shut her eyes instinctively and followed Darien’s hand as it pulled her through the veil and into the world beyond.

A long, dark tunnel stretched out before Vicky when she opened her eyes again. Darien walked into the gloom as if he knew exactly where he was going. Vicky turned her head around to see trees just outside the mouth of the tunnel that hadn’t been there before.

“Where are we?” she asked as she tried to look around. She could barely make out the stones in the walls of the tunnel as they went deeper.

“We’re just passing into the Fairy Realm,” Darien answered from the blackness near her. If she hadn’t been holding his hand, she would have lost him in the darkness.

They walked on for while in silence as Vicky thought about this answer. A growing light marked the end of the passage. They drew closer, and Vicky could hear singing, but not in any language that she knew. A few more steps brought them out into a large glade. Darien paused for just a moment to let his eyes adjust to the light of the large room before continuing in a straight line.

Vicky couldn’t see where the warm light came from, but it radiated off everything. Laughter and singing filled the air around them. The voices scattered around came closer and called to them. Vicky didn’t know what they were saying, but she felt the calls pulling on her.

“Don’t listen to them,” Darien spoke softly to her. He squeezed her hand, and the voices laughed again.

The voices continued in their strange language, but Vicky started to hear thickly accented English filtering through.

“Come play with us,
cailín,” the voices giggled to her.

“Yes
,
cailín, come play.”

“Kian Dubhlainn doesn’t want
cailín to play with us.”

Darien squeezed her hand again but continued on as the voices giggled and called.

“Let us play
,
Kian Dubhlainn.”

Vicky felt something tickling her neck, and she raised her free hand to brush whatever touched her away.

“Cailín is injured.” The voices lost a little of the teasing tone and hissed.

“Does Kian Dubhlainn not love cailín enough to heal her?” the voice questioned from around Darien. He waved his hand as if he was brushing something away from his face.

“Give her to us
,
Kian Dubhlainn. We will heal her.”

Vicky felt a pull on her hair where it had been burnt.

“Yes, give cailín to us, Kian Dubhlainn. We will make her pretty for you.”

She felt another pull as the voices continued to call and plead for her. Tripping on something unseen, Vicky loosened her grip on Darien so she could catch herself before she hit the ground. He spun around and grabbed her before she could turn loose or fall.

“
Don’t let go
.” Darien squeezed her hand, and Vicky tightened her grip on his hand again. He made sure she was on her feet before continuing through the room. The voices started again.

“Kian Dubhlainn
does
love cailín.”

Darien growled at the voices and they pulled back, giggling at him.

“What are they?” Vicky whispered as she looked around but didn’t see anything.

“Lesser fay.” He looked around at something she couldn’t see. “Mostly harmless by themselves, but they are very magical in larger groups like this.”

She stepped closer to him.

The voices begged for him to release Vicky’s hand and let them play with her.

“Why are they calling me Colleen?” Vicky asked
.

“Cailín is the Gaelic word for young woman or girl,” he explained.

“What are they calling you?” she asked, but Darien didn’t have the chance to answer.

“Kian Dubhlainn,” a voice next to Vicky’s head said in answer. She turned to look at the sound, but nothing was there.

“Ancient Bloody Sword.” Another voice on the other side of her translated it to English. A chorus of calls rang around the room with both the Gaelic and English names resounding around the pair.

“Don’t make me remind you how I got that name,” Darien hissed at the air around him, and the voices went skipping off into the distance in giggles.

Vicky held tightly to his hand. She could feel the threat in his words. The fay left them alone for a few more steps, but the calls started again.

“Please let us play with cailín. We promise to make her pretty for you,” they called.

“Yes
,
Kian Dubhlainn, pretty like fields of flowers and spider silk.”

“Pretty like blue skies and the sun.”

“Pretty like moonlight.” Vicky felt light pulls on her hair and clothing.

“Give us cailín; we want to play. We will give her back.” Darien shook his head again as the voices begged him to give her up.

After a while, they came to another set of trees, and Darien led Vicky between them. She looked at the new room opening up before them. It was nothing like where they had just been. This was a great hall of stone with tall pillars supporting a fan-vaulted ceiling. The voices called, begging Darien to release Vicky, but they didn’t follow them into this room. The room was lit by torches attached to the pillars by iron scroll brackets.

Vicky huddled into Darien’s side as she picked out forms standing in the shadows just outside of the light. They were mostly humanoid in shape, and she could feel their eyes as Darien led her down the hall, towards a great stone hearth.

A woman sitting on a carved stool next to the fire watched them approach. She had smooth, raven-black hair that hung in an intricate braid to the floor behind her. Her dress was a rich green silk with golden trim and embroidery around the flowing sleeves and hem. There was a golden cord around her corseted waist, and a green stone was held in the middle of her forehead attached by a gold circlet atop her head. Two more figures stood next to her. Both of the men looked as if they stepped straight out of a Renaissance fair somewhere.

“Good evening
,
Kian Dubhlainn,” the woman said as Darien approached.

He bowed deeply without turning Vicky loose. “Good evening
,
My Lady Aine,” Darien addressed the woman.

Vicky wasn’t sure what to do, so she dropped the best curtsy she could in her short skirt while holding his hand.

The regal woman looked at the guest Darien had brought as he stood back up. “What have you brought to my lands
,
Kian?” The queen arched a delicate eyebrow in question.

He pulled Vicky around to stand in front of him. Darien slipped his hand from Vicky’s and held her by both shoulders. “May I present to you my assistant
,
Miss Victoria Westernly.” He spoke formally.

“A mortal woman?” the queen asked curiously and watched Vicky with dark, penetrating eyes. “You know how we feel about mortals, Kian. Especially lovely young women.”

Fear trickled through Vicky at the woman’s words.

“I do, My Lady, but I ask that you make an exception for her and grant her safe passage for our stay.” Darien bowed his head to the woman.

“And why would I do that?” the queen asked.

“Because of this.” He wrapped his arms around Vicky’s middle and pulled the bandage off her left hand to show the wound to the woman. “And, if that’s not enough, as a favor to me.” He squeezed Vicky tightly to him with his right arm and used his left hand to hold out her injured palm for the queen to inspect.

The woman looked at the wound and then at the way Darien held Vicky against him. “No matter how much fun it would be to deny your request and watch you defend this woman throughout your stay,” there was a mischievous joy in the woman’s smile as she spoke, “I can see she means something to you, and it would be rude to turn away someone so respected without giving aid.” The glint faded from the woman’s eyes as she waved at someone hidden in the shadows. “You may relax, Kian Dubhlainn. Your lady is safe for the time you are here.”

He released Vicky’s hand and folded his left arm around her waist with his right.

The intimacy of the hold made Vicky tense slightly. Unsure of where to put her arms, she folded them over his arms and stood stiffly in his grasp.

Darien relaxed around her as they waited for something.

A man stepped out of the shadows and into the firelight next to the queen. “My Lady Aine.” He bowed and kissed her hand. “What service may I do for you this evening?” The man stood up and looked at the queen.