The Earl's Childe (9 page)

I saw the shock and guilt dawning on his face, but I didn't care. It didn't help right now. I backed away from him. “No! I'm not doing anything else till Mum gets home, and you shouldn't either.” I took another step back towards my door. Like Tom, I had an overwhelming urge to run.

My dad seemed to see it, too. “Heather, wait! Just—”

“No! Stay away from me!”

He recoiled as if I'd slapped him. A knife of guilt thrust into my stomach to see the hurt on his face, but I was furious. More awful things came to my head that I could say to hurt him even more, so I turned and ran.

I ran to the place he was least likely to follow me— Ehrwnmyr's stable.

The kelpie was dancing in place at his gate when I arrived.
What is it? What has happened?

Blurting “I'm sorry,” I threw up a huge mental wall in my head. I sensed his offense as he backed away from me. I flung myself against the board of his paddock, breathing in gasps and sobs, which tore at my voice as I continued, “I'm sorry. Just, I don't need you to be angry, too, and you
will
be angry and-and-and I just need…” I didn't finish. I just needed a
horse
. A big dumb animal whom I could throw my arms around and who would just stand there and let me cry into his fur.

My mental wall must not have been working all that well, or maybe Ehrwnmyr had more compassion than I figured for a child-murdering fey horse, but he edged closer until his head hung over the fence, and his neck was right next to me. With a ragged sniffle, I leaned against him. When he didn't flinch, I wrapped my arms around his neck and let loose with crying. I hardly even thought about his tentacle fur, which I felt lightly brushing against my skin.

I still tried to keep that mental wall, but I didn't feel that weird pressure of him inside my head. If anything, it was almost like a feeling of down or pillows in my brain. I think he was trying to purposely withdraw and give me my space.

As if from very far away, I sensed his wordless communication that he was trying to please me.

“I…I need to think.” I spoke into his neck, then pressed my lips closed as the tiny tentacles of his fur tried to explore my mouth. I didn't want to let go, though. I needed to hold onto something. I had never felt this much of an emotional mess in my life! “Can I…can you, I don't know, just promise to not think anything to me if I'm thinking? Not say anything… I don't know…”

Not judge?
His mind-voice sounded far away. He was definitely trying to give me headspace.

I appreciated that. “Umn-hmn.” I nodded against him.

I can keep my opinions to myself
.

I nodded, just barely remembering not to actually say “Thank you.” I didn't know what that would mean with the soul bond, but as much as I appreciated Ermie being…a friend…at the moment, I wasn't sure I trusted that I could chance making any weird mess with a debt I owed him or something.

I didn't think of anything at first. I was just aware of how
not horse
the kelpie was. His body was still warm, almost hot, like a horse's, and I could feel the massive muscles of his neck and shoulders beneath his coat and skin, but that was where the similarities ended. The muscles were tighter, more ropey, and his shoulders were bonier. And there was the tentacle fur, which was still trying to explore my face, and I was handling it pretty well. At least I wasn't getting squicked out by it.

Then there was the smell, which I was only beginning to notice now. Horses smell like sweet grain, dirt, and sweat. Ermie, himself, smelled like brine, seaweed, and the ocean. It wasn't an unpleasant smell.

Once I became more used to the sensation of hugging a
kelpie
as opposed to a horse, my mind crept back to my room, to the look on my dad's face—the many looks on his face. The focus when he was getting ready for the spell, the severity and ferocity when he had Tom captured, and how his every emotion crumbled when I yelled at him and showed him he had hurt me.

He was mad. Angry mad…and even mental mad. He had been terrifying.

My
dad
had been terrifying.

I felt goose bumps prickle all over my skin, and I shivered against Ermie.

On top of it all, the reason my dad was going mad was because of the creature I was now hugging and seeking comfort from. Because I had insisted we not kill him. And, as much of a mess the kelpie was still causing, I wouldn't change my decision. I wouldn't kill him, and I wouldn't let my dad kill him—whether Ermie had a piece of my soul or not.

That was the
good
choice, right? I hoped. I could make him good if I were good.

Even as I thought that, another hideous thought ate its way into my mind like a toothy, parasitic worm.

If I could turn the kelpie good, could he turn me bad?

I jumped back away from him. He started at my leap.
No, no, no
, I thought to myself, not even sure if I was hiding my thoughts anymore. No, it was my soul that he shared. I didn't have a piece of his.

Right?

Really, I had no freaking clue how that magickal bridle worked. That was the only thing I knew for sure.

“Ermie…?” My voice rasped and cracked from the stupid tears I still felt running down my cheeks.

Yes, Heather?
His voice in my head was just as wary, concerned. His whole posture communicated that he wanted some reassurance, because my posture and actions had him anxious.

“You…you told me I-I influenced your actions and choices, that you're—you're compelled to act like me. But, what about you and me? Would you influence me? Make me want t-to…” I swallowed hard. “Hurt…people?”
Kill people?
added my mind, which he would likely pick up. I wrapped my arms around myself and shivered despite the brief warmth from the morning sun peeking between clouds.

His posture relaxed some and he lowered his head, licking his lips and chewing. He was thinking.

We who are of the fey…do not have souls
, he finally said.
There was nothing for you to take when you gave me a piece of your soul but my absolute obedience
. Shifting weight from one of his hind legs to the other, sticking out his angular hip, he licked some more.
But you have access to my thoughts, my emotions. More or less. You have not tried to pry
. The emotions I felt in my head were appreciation of me not prying.
As far as I understand—and I prefer
not
to interact at length with others—knowing anyone has its influences. For better or worse. But there is nothing in the soul spell that would
compel
you to act…as I would
. He shifted his hips again, then added,
Would have acted
.

“As you would if anyone ever took off the bridle?” I asked in a small voice.

Very likely, aye
.

I sighed, still hugging myself, and tried to make sense of his explanation. Basically, he had no soul of his own to give, so there was nothing that should
make
me want to be mean or angry or hurt people. But just knowing him would obviously change me——like knowing any of my friends. Well, the whole two of my friends. Knowing Joli, I knew what it was like to find ways to avoid fights with people who would always hate you. She'd made me cleverer in dealing with the girls at school. And I didn't have to think hard to realize how knowing Joe had changed me. He'd made me more aware of things in the world, things like racism…and made me braver and more daring. Smarter.

I missed them both so much, right now. And I couldn't talk to either of them. Joli was traveling with her dads in France. Joe was with his mother's family in Bahrain, practically the other side of the world.

Who would I become because I knew Ermie? Knew Tom? If Tom ever talked to me again, that is.

Ermie made a coughing sound and stretched out his neck. When he caught my eye—with his glowing version of my own eyes—he hedged.
The cat fey. He ran from your castle, and I could smell his terror. And you. You ran out here, to me, with more fear in you than when we first met. When I would have happily killed you and the prince. More fear than when you faced me, knowing I would kill to defend myself from this magick
. He rubbed his bridle on his leg and stared at me. While he didn't outright ask, he wanted to know what great danger there was—what danger worse than himself.

I looked away with a sniffle, and then my shivering began to turn into shakes. I didn't want to say. I didn't want to think what I was thinking. To acknowledge how I felt about my dad to the child-murdering monster I'd adopted seemed… worse…than just thinking it. My mind spinning in a cycle of the vividness and the memory and the overwhelming desire to forget it all, I could only find these words. “I won't let anyone hurt you. I won't!”

Ermie slowly blinked his eyes, not moving any other muscle in his body besides an uncontrollable twitch when a fly landed on him. He wasn't sharing what he was thinking, either.

Arms still crossed, I balled my hands into fists. “I swear, I won't let
anyone
hurt you!”

He tilted his head, then turned away and trotted in a circle before returning to the gate and lifting his head over again to regard me.
You say that in full earnest. I am both honored and amused, and I refuse to hold you to that oath. There are many, many beings out there that you could not protect me from—even if you were an adult human. But I do appreciate your dedication to a creature you still consider a monster
.

I screwed up my lips in his direction. The “amused” part was quite evident in his voice. More than any honor or appreciation. “Whatever! Fine!” I turned away, ready to storm off, but not sure where I'd storm off to. There was just as good a chance Dad had gone down to the main stable, hoping I'd be there, as staying in the house and hoping I'd come back. And I was still grounded. Just coming to the stables without parental permission was breaking my grounding rules. I didn't care. As far as I was concerned, Dad had just broken some major parenting rules.

I didn't mean to offend. You really must be careful what oaths you take—particularly with fey
.

Of course, he had to have a point and be annoyingly right. Then, another thought hit me. “Wait, you know rules about faerie and stuff!”

He didn't even bother to put his response into words.

“Okay, maybe you can help with part of the problem.”

Go on
.

“So Tom had me do this astral projection thingy last night, and we went to a faerie meeting, and they said an Unseelie had, like, applied to move in, and they didn't think they were going to permit him. They wanted my family to swear allegiance to help them, so they could use you, but I said I had to talk to my parents first, and I'm supposed to get back to Lord Cadmus and Lady Fana, but now I can't, and even if I could, I don't know what swearing an allegiance means, and I don't know what is going to happen.”

Ermie raised his head and took one step back from me. After another lick and chew, he responded,
Blood and brine, child, permit me access to at least what you are thinking in regards to whatever you're havering on about because I am not even sure what your spoken words have said
.

I scowled at him. “I'd rather not, please? Just—just…what would swearing an allegiance to Lady Fana and Lord Cadmus against a cheesed-off Unseelie entail? And would that hurt you?”

The kelpie sighed, lowering his head again. He gave a shake that started from his nose and wiggled down to his tail.
Most simply, that you each would promise to share all of your available resources, including me, obviously, to protect each other and each other's lands. Most
likely,
there would be some clause or agreement that would leave you, your family, and me—as I belong to you and would be a resource—at a disadvantage unless you are very, very careful
.

“So, we shouldn't? Swear alliance or allegiance or whatever, then?”

He half-pinned his ears and wrinkled around his nose.
You would then be without their protection against a possible attack from an Unseelie. You have me, and I will protect as you command. But, if it is a large contingent, as fast as I am, I can only be in one place at a time
.

“I…” I tried to remember what I could from last night. “Tom said you were immune to fey magick, and that's why Lady Fana and Lord Cadmus would want you.”

I can still be injured by weapons of battle, and it sounds like you—or at least
they—
are expecting battle
.

“That's what it sounded like to me and Tom, too. One of the other daoine síth half-expected this Lord Calbraith to—”

Ermie snorted hard and jumped backward. The emotion in my head from him, the equivalent of one of my mum's best cussword strings, was almost enough to override my “gross, kelpie bogeys!” reaction.

Almost. I shook them off my arms as I asked. “So, you know the guy?”