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Authors: Helen Scott Taylor

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BOOK: The Phoenix Charm
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With a wave of certainty that stilled his breath, he wanted to kiss her. When Fin was safe and they returned to Cornwall, he’d take her away somewhere quiet. He’d kiss her for hours until she melted in his arms and begged him to live the image they’d seen in her divining mirror.

He cleared his throat, gave himself a shake. Best concentrate on what the cat was doing.

Tamsy stopped near the waterfall to lap at a puddle. Her little pink tongue curled at the edges like a rose petal. The cat glanced back at Cordelia, then disappeared behind the waterfall.

“Tread quietly so we don’t startle her,” Cordelia said as she moved forward.

Michael followed, his gaze sliding down to her neat, heart-shaped bottom. The instinctive stir of need low in his belly made him groan inwardly. He ran a hand over his face.

Behind the falling sheet of water, they discovered an uneven rocky path leading to the woods on the other side of the river. Cordelia crouched at the edge of the tumbling water, just clear of the misty spray, and watched Tamsy sniff along the moss-covered rock wall behind the falls.

When Michael stopped, Nightshade’s hand landed on his shoulder. He had to make a conscious effort to relax and accept the touch. Now wasn’t the time to break his bond with Nightshade and start the inevitable arguments and bad feeling.

For five minutes, the cat wandered back and forth, sniffing and scratching at the ground. Michael thought this had more to do with the smell of rats and voles than searching
for the door to the Underworld. But he was proved wrong when she stood on her hind legs, scratched at the moss, and mewed.

“What have you found, poppet?” Cordelia stepped forward and traced her fingers over the wall by Tamsy’s paws. Michael followed her through the cool cloud of spray onto the path behind the waterfall. He bent to examine the wet, mossy rock face, dotted with clumps of ferns. A whisper of breeze brushed his face. He was almost sure the draft came through the wall.

“There’s a crack.” Cordelia used a sharp stone to scrape the moss away, then ran her fingers up and down a fissure in the rock. “Look.” She pointed to a symbol carved in the stone. “The sign of the maze represents the Underworld. That’s promising.”

Michael took the stone from her hand and cleared away the moss higher up where she couldn’t reach. He felt beneath the shadowy overhang of a rocky outcrop. “There’s a hole, but I can’t get me finger in.” Looking down, he tapped the base of t he rock wall with his boot. “Can you hear an echo as though there’s a space behind, lass?”

Cordelia put her ear to the rock while Michael kicked the wall. She screwed up her nose in frustration, giving a cute little huff. “Don’t know.” She grabbed the stone from his hand and cleared more moss from the base of the wall. Michael squatted beside her.

Their knees bumped. Her head jerked up. She opened her mouth, then snapped it shut and returned to her task, hugging her knees to her body with her free arm. He remembered her adamant denial that there could be intimacy between them. A plan of seduction had just started forming in his mind when a huge hunk of rock smashed onto the path a few feet away.

“Shit!” Nightshade and Thorn jumped back. Nightshade slapped at the dirty splatters on his black jeans.

“Where in the Furies did that come from?” Michael left
Cordelia scratching at the rock behind the falls and followed the other two men into the open. He shoved his hands on his hips and stared up at the rock face.

Movement caught his eye at the exact moment Thorn pointed and shouted: “Look. There’s someone…something at the top of the cliff.”

A lumbering brown form ducked behind a boulder. A moment later, another missile hurtled down toward them. They scattered, Michael retreating beneath the waterfall, the other men running back up the path.

More rocks followed in quick succession. Some rolled into the water; some smashed, scattering sharp shards in all directions. Michael turned his back, putting himself between the flying fragments and Cordelia.

She wrapped her arms around Tamsy and pressed her face against the cat’s fur.

When the barrage ceased, Michael looked up. “What’s your problem?” he shouted.

Silence met his enquiry.

“Right.” He gritted his teeth and beckoned Nightshade. “Get up there and stop the idiot before one of us is hurt.”

“Can I go with him?” Thorn asked, breathless with excitement.

“Not unless you’ve sprouted wings in the last few minutes, lad.”

“Oh.” Thorn looked crestfallen. Nightshade pulled off his coat and shoved it into the young man’s arms. He popped his hat on Thorn’s head, then stepped back where he had room to spread his wings. With a grunt, he thrust up from the ground with his powerful thighs, the draft from his flapping wings making them dip their heads.

Nightshade ducked and dived between the trees. Then he disappeared behind a rock, and a pitiful wailing filled the air. A few minutes later, the stalker reappeared with a hulking creature suspended by its collar. Their descent was more of a controlled fall than actual flight. From a few feet up,
Nightshade dropped the culprit in a heap before landing hard, knees bent, breathing heavily.

They all stared down at dirty brown hair, a wrinkled face covered with a tangled beard, and a thick dirt-encrusted coat tied at the waist with frayed, greasy string. The creature’s feet were bare, the size of dinner plates, each trimmed with eight stubby toes.

The instant after Michael had taken in its appearance the stench hit him. He lurched back, a hand to his mouth. “Sweet bejesus.” Bile stung the back of his throat and he swallowed. He drew in clean air to clear his nose.

Nightshade cursed and plunged his hands into the river, rubbing them vigorously. “If I’ve caught lice from that thing, someone’s going to be sorry.”

“Why were you throwing rocks at us?” Cordelia asked, stepping up beside Michael.

The creature’s beady eyes glinted through the filthy mass of hair. “My job,” it squeaked in a surprisingly high voice.

“What job?” Michael ground out. If any of those rock shards had hit Cordelia’s face, she could have been scarred for life.

The creature huddled into a tighter ball, covering its head with two grubby hands.

“You’re all right. He won’t hurt you.” Cordelia laid a hand on Michael’s arm. As if by magic, the anger drained out of him.

“I won’t hurt you,” Michael repeated dutifully, infusing his voice with reassurance and compulsion. “Just tell us why you’re here.”

“Guard the gate.” The beady eyes blinked behind the greasy knots of hair.

“The gate to the Under world?” Cordelia crouched at Michael’s side, taking herself down to the creature’s level.

The shaggy head bobbed up and down.

Cordelia rose to her feet and leaned in to Michael, speaking softly. “I think it’s a coblynau, one of the Welsh mine
fairies. We passed mines earlier, so they’d be in this area. They’re not really dangerous.”

Michael slanted her a sideways glance. “If one of those rocks had landed on your head, lass, you wouldn’t be saying that.”

She frowned and gave one of her little huffs. “At least we know we’re in the right place.”

Michael nodded. She had a point. He turned his attention back to the coblynau. “You’re going to open the gate into the Underworld for us.”

“Oh no, no, no.” The creature hugged its head tighter and wailed. “Them Teg ain’t nice to coblys. They’ll hurt me.”

“Aye, well, join the club.” Michael felt short on sympathy after the last two days.

Thorn prodded the creature with the toe of his shoe and the volume of the wailing went up a decibel.

“Good gracious, Thorn.” Cordelia edged around the creature and grabbed Thorn’s arm, pulling him back a couple of steps. “Don’t you dare kick the poor thing. I hope I raised you with more respect for other beings than that.”

“And if you get lice, you’ll be walking home,” Nightshade added.

Tamsy padded out from behind the waterfall and eyed the coblynau, the end of her tail flicking. With a screech, the filthy bund lescrabbled back ward at a surprising speed, forcing Cordelia and Thorn to jump aside into the shallow water at the edge of the river.

“Keep it away.” A dirty hand pointed at Tamsy.

Cordelia climbed back on the path and shook her feet, water leaking from her boots. “You don’t like cats?” she snapped waspishly. Her charitable attitude had obviously not survived the dunking. Michael’s lips twitched when she squelched past him and scooped Tamsy into her arms. “Unlock the gate to the Underworld, and I promise I won’t let her attack you.”

The coblynau whined and twitched, then heaved onto
two stubby legs. Still moaning to itself about the Teg, the creature waddled toward the waterfall. Michael covered his nose and stepped back when the thing passed him. It pulled a stick from a pocket and dragged the pointed end around the fissure in the rock they’d found earlier. The stick sank beneath the overhang until the rock door shifted with a clunk and hiss of air.

The coblynau looked at them, the only evidence of its face two eyes gleaming through the hair. “Get inside. Must shut t’door again.”

The creature wedged a shoulder in the gap and pushed the door open just enough for Michael to squeeze through sideways. Cordelia dropped Tamsy into her bag and waited behind him. Thorn stood next in line, with Nightshade last.

Michael felt strange heading up the line, giving the orders, when all his life he’d been the follower, behind either Troy or Niall.

“Once we’re through, we stick together,” Michael said, “no matter what we find on the other side.”

Chapter Five

Cordelia hugged her cat bag to her side as she slipped through the door in the rock after Michael. Cool, damp darkness pressed around her. When the coblynau closed the door behind them, the shaft of light filtering through the doorway would be cut off, leaving them blind.

Her heart thumped, and her mouth dried. She fumbled at the zipped pocket on the cat bag, her fingers clumsy in haste. With a spurt of relief, her hand closed around the tiny flashlight Michael had packed. She thumbed the switch and pulled the light from her bag.

Thorn’s warm body pressed behind her in the narrow space, while the rocks resounded with the thud of the door. Her tiny light hardly penetrated the thick darkness. But the beam was enough to illuminate Michael’s form, enough to see she wasn’t back in the limbo of in-between.

“I’d better have the flashlight,” Michael said, his fingers closing around her hand.

“No!” Panic gripped, her pulse skittering. She waited a moment for the dread to pass. “I’d rather hold the light.”

His shoulders rose and fell. “Fair enough, lass. You’d better go up front then.”

How considerate of him not to argue the point, or tease her about being afraid of the dark. She sidled past him, his warm hand on her back steadying her.

With the weak beam of light aimed at the ground, she walked forward, one small step at a time, watching for loose
rocks or holes. The temperature plunged as the path angled down.

“There’s magic at work in this tunnel. Feel the chill?” she asked over her shoulder.

“Better be keeping a watch out for traps, then,” Michael answered.

The murmur of trickling water accompanied their progress. Cold drips plopped on her head every few yards. Goose bumps rose on her arms, even beneath the layers of her sweater and jacket. With just a T-shirt, Thorn must be freezing.

Cordelia stopped, felt inside her bag, and gently extracted Tamsy’s crocheted blanket from underneath her. The poor cat mewed indignantly, but she wouldn’t becold, snuggled against the bag’s fleece lining. She gave the blanket a shake, before reaching past Michael to press the woolen square into Thorn’s hands. “ Put this around you, and no arguments.”

With mumbled thanks, he wrapped it over his shoulders. Proving, she supposed, that he must becold.

In the faint beam of light, her breath formed a misty cloud as she moved forward again.

“How much farther?” Thorn asked, his words fractured by a shiver.

“Hang in there, lad,” Michael said. Then his fingers brushed her shoulder. “You doing all right, sugarplum?”

She smiled at the name. A moment later, she realized he’d
intended
to raise her spirits. Intellectually, she already knew Michael was kind because he’d taken an interest in Thorn when her ward badly needed a man’s example. But because Michael always joked and teased, she’d dismissed his kindness as an affectation designed to win friends and gain attention. Strange how she’d got him so wrong.

“There’s a light at the end of the tunnel.” Michael laughed, the rich deep sound of his voice echoing off the rocks. “Always wanted to say that.”

Cordelia looked up, eyes wide with surprise. She’d been
so busy thinking about Michael, she hadn’t noticed the light, or the last few minutes of tramping along in the dark. “I wonder what ’s out there .”

“Get moving and we might find out,” Nightshade snapped.

Cordelia picked up the pace, her eyes flicking between the path and the growing arch of light ahead.

“If you believe the tales, Gwyn lives in a glass castle on an island in the middle of an enchanted lake,” Michael said.

“Enchanted how?” Thorn asked, his voice steadier, which made Cordelia realize the temperature had risen.

“The tales vary, but ’tis usually full of water nymphs or sirens who entice travelers to a watery grave. And so they reach the Underworld, but not the way they planned.”

Cordelia jerked to a halt. Michael crashed into her back, knocking the wind from her lungs for a few seconds. “Water nymphs?” she squeaked.

“Aye, lass.”

“You’re sure?”

“ ’Tis just a tale. Don’t go worrying yet. We’ll probably find there’s not even a lake.”

Nausea burned in her stomach. She didn’t want Thorn anywhere near a water nymph. She stepped away from the others and beckoned Michael. “Thorn might be traumatized. I don’t think he’s even slept with a female yet.”

Michael laughed. “I doubt traumatized is the term he’d use. But don’t worry, I’ll keep him safe if need be.”

Cordelia moved forward again, her sensible nonslip boots dragging through the pebbles on the flloor. She wished she hadn’t allowed Thorn to come. She wasn’t keen on the thought of watching a water nymph rub her body over Michael, either. Watching him with a woman in her divination mirror was a very different matter from seeing a female with him in the flesh. As the arch of light grew larger, she squinted, trying to see the terrain outside. Branches hung over the exit. Grass and heather sprouted from the ground.
She trod in something squishy and looked down to find sheep’s droppings.

With a mixture of trepidation and relief, she walked out into the light. Acres of purple heather-clad moorland extended to the base of snowcapped mountains. The jagged peaks surrounded a valley. At the lowest point sparkled a huge lake with a rocky island in the center. Perched on one side of the island was a gray castle, ribbons of smoke rising at intervals along the ramparts.

“Part of your story is accurate,” Cordelia said in a flat voice.

“Does that mean there’ll be water nymphs?” Thorn asked eagerly, bumping up beside her. He still had Tamsy’s blanket around his shoulders. The blue crocheted square was even hairier than she’d expected. It was probably too much to hope the water nymphs would be frightened of cats.

Tamsy poked her head out of the bag and sniffed the air. She wriggled up, hooking her front paws on the side. Cordelia lowered the bag to the ground so she could jump out. “Are you hungry, Tamsy Tink?” She extracted a packet of cat treats from the bag’s side pocket and sprinkled a few on her palm.

“I’m starving.” Thorn delved into her bag. She slapped away his hand and gave him a chocolate bar from her pocket. Then she held one out to Michael, who grinned, and another to Nightshade, who scowled, but took the bar with mumbled thanks.

Wandering a few yards away, she chewed her snack and scanned the lake for any sign of movement. Laid out before her, the dark blue waters sparkled in the sun like a photo from a tourist brochure.

Thorn sat on a rock beside her and took a bite of chocolate. “I didn’t think the Underworld would look like this.”

“This can’t be the Underworld.” A few fluffy clouds hung in the azure sky as if for decoration. “It’s too pretty.”

Michael squeezed her elbow. The sensation zinged
through every cell in her body, yet no longer frightened her. “This is the land of the Tylwyth Teg,” he said. “I’m thinking the entry to the Underworld will be on the island.”

“It was getting dark when we came through the door.” Cordelia raised her eyebrows and glanced at the sun.

Michael shrugged. “Maybe time stands still here. Your guess is as good as mine.”

“Better make tracks,” she said, gathering the chocolate wrappers. She turned back to retrieve her bag. Her step faltered. Nightshade held Tamsy in his arms, petting beneath her chin. Cordelia let her senses flow to Tamsy, sensed her pleasure, smelled the sweetness of the almond oil on Nightshade’s skin. Gut instinct told her to snatch her cat from danger, yet Tamsy’s sense of self-preservation was sharp, and all she radiated was contentment.

Jaw tight, Cordelia collected her bag and cast her cat a disbelieving look.

After a thirty-minute walk along narrow animal trails winding between the clumps of heather and lumps of rock, they reached the edge of the lake. Michael stared back the way they’d come and pointed to the rocky outcrop where they’d emerged. “Everyone take a good look and assign that view to memory. We’ll probably be needing to leave that way.”

Cordelia searched for landmarks: a bent tree, a rock formation in the shape of a horse. Planning their route out was optimistic when none of them knew if it would even be possible to leave. The tension in her shoulders made her back ache.

“I don’t see any water nymphs, worse luck,” Thorn announced, hands on hips as he examined the lake.

“No, looks like that part of the tale is wrong.” Michael pulled a sheet of notes from his pocket. They all leaned in to read. Cordelia took a brief glance, but couldn’t concentrate. The rippling body of water drew her like a magnet. She longed to strip off her clothes and dive under the surface,
immerse herself in the element that sang in her soul. But she was always disappointed when she swam, because her wards cut her off from the revitalizing energy. Movement caught her eye. She stared at the lake, afraid to blink in case she missed something. She pressed her lips together, anxiety rising. About ten yards away, a female head bobbed into view, her flowing hair spread around her like a green silky cloak. Her eyes met Cordelia’s.

The creature was beautiful, with large dark eyes, a small nose, and full lips. The lake wasn’t home to a water nymph but something far more dangerous.
A Siren that would tempt the men to a watery grave.

“You see anything, Dee?” Thorn asked, putting his arm around her shoulders as the Siren disappeared from view.

Cordelia sucked air through her mouth and shook her head. She wanted to tell Michael about the Siren before the others found out.

“Right.” Michael walked to the waterline. “According to our notes, somewhere around the shore there should be a boat to allow visitors to cross.”

Cordelia needed to find out if the Siren was alone. If her little group crossed in a boat, she could protect the men from one Siren, maybe even two, but if there were more, their attraction would overwhelm her ability to hold the men’s attention.

She must keep the men off the lake until she was sure.

“I see the boat.” Nightshade had climbed to the top of a massive hunk of rock protruding ten feet out of the ground. He pointed over the water. “There’s a jetty by the castle.”

Michael clambered onto the rock beside Nightshade and stared toward the island. “Aye. There’s a boat all right. And ’tis coming this way.”

“I don’t believe they’re coming for us. That would be too easy.” Cordelia’s stomach clenched and nausea burned in her chest at the thought of meeting more Teg, and worse, the King of the Underworld. She wanted to rescue Fin, but a big
part of her just wanted to be back in Cornwall, in her sitting room overlooking the garden.

With a soft call, she attracted Tamsy’s attention. She stroked her cat’s head, let their minds meld. She relaxed into the warm glow of love, then silently instructed Tamsy to help her see into the water.

When Thorn leaped up the rocks to join Michael and Nightshade, Cordelia urged Tamsy to follow him.

“Are you wanting a hand up, Cordelia?” Michael shouted.

“No. I’m fine.” She stroked the end of her plait while she waited for Tamsy to settle, then melded her mind with her familiar’s and stared toward the lake through her cat’s eyes.

Silver clouds of tiny fish swept through the water. In the deepest part of the lake, she caught sight of the Siren twisting and rolling in a solitary dance. She would call one of the men, probably the strongest spirit.
Michael.
Cordelia must ensure he didn’t end up lured to a watery grave.

Fifteen minutes later, Michael jumped down from the rock beside her with his jacket slung over his shoulder; his biceps bunched beneath the sleeve of his T-shirt. Cordelia dragged her gaze away from his body and stared at the island.

“I’m sensing a presence in the water, lass.”

She nodded. “It’s a Siren. She poked her head out of the water earlier.” She hadn’t expected the men to sense the Siren before the creature was ready to reveal herself. She had only spotted it because her nature was so closely bound to the water. Michael’s perceptiveness proved he was unusually sensitive to other life-forms. She should have figured out from his strong psychic presence that he was more powerful than anyone suspected.

Michael rested a shoulder against the rock at her side and leaned closer to speak softly. “Do you think she’ll be causing us a problem on the crossing?”

They both stared toward the boat moving inexorably closer.

“Who will?” Nightshade descended from the air before them, wings outstretched. He landed elegantly on one foot like a ballet dancer. He shook back his hair and snapped his wings closed with a crack that echoed across the water.

With a smile, Nightshade tapped his ear. “ I can hear your heart beating, bard, so whispering does you little good.”

“There’s a Siren here.” Cordelia waved a hand toward the lake. “Odds are she’ll try to entice one of you into the water.”

Thorn appeared at Cordelia’s side with Tamsy in his arms. “Will she want to…you know…have sex with us?”

“Thorn!” Cordelia gave him a quelling look. She turned the same look on Michael when he chuckled.

“You’re thinking of water nymphs, lad.” Michael walked around her and slapped the younger man on the shoulder. “All the Siren wants is to call you to your death. You’ll have to find yourself a sexy little water nymph when we get home. Maybe I’ll join you. I ’ve yet to have that pleasure meself.”

Cordelia wanted to melt into the rock at her back and disappear. If they ever found out her mother had been a water nymph, she’d die of embarrassment. Now she felt she had to defend the Siren. Although they were far more primitive than water nymphs, she identified only too closely with the creature’s longings .

“She’s lonely,” Cordelia burst out.

Michael shot her an inquisitive look, and her cheeks flared with heat.

“She wants a mate,” she explained. “She doesn’t know you’ll drown if she calls you into the depths with her.”

“Aye, but that does not change the fact she’s still a danger to us.” His expression gentled. For a terrifying second, she thought he was so perceptive he’d guessed her secret. But he turned away, and the moment passed.

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