Shadows & Secrets part 9
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C
Cáit watched as a tall, dark-haired male stepped out of the shadows. The resemblance was striking though she found herself noting each difference between the brothers. Neatly styled hair replaced the unruly midnight locks she had grown fond of and there was something sharper about the lines of the jaw, dangerous. Flawless and tanned skin peeked out of the sleek black tunic though Cáit preferred the dusting of freckles on Deryn to the honeyed planes of his brother. The emerald eyes were narrower and seemed far colder, yet she could feel their buried fire even at this distance. She saw his walk was different too, more of a predatory prowl than an energetic romp.
An appreciative breath beside her told her Maeve noted the similarities as well. Lean and toned in a way few humans could manage with the fluid grace of a dancer. Striking green eyes contrasted with rich ebony hair while smoothly tapered ears announced Fae blood for those blind to the other signs. Like his younger brother, this Fae male was simply gorgeous and Cáit could tell her best friend approved.
She watched as Deryn approached his brother and her heart squeezed at the tension she saw between them. It was clear the chasm was not Deryn’s choosing, but she had no idea how she could even begin to mend the rift.
The three Fae entered the strange mound and closed the door, signaling the unwelcomeness of mortals into the discussion. She knew she probably could announce her lineage and gain access to the meeting, but decided to heed Deryn’s warning about names. She reasoned it was probably too dangerous to make it known before she had Settled and Deryn likely had more experience with such dealings anyway.
Cáit noticed even their guide had vanished with the closing of the door. A quick appraisal of her surroundings had her cautiously approaching a mossy log beside the door. A row of them seemed to have been placed so that visitors could sit and wait so Cáit carefully tested it out. Finding it safe, she motioned to the others. Maeve took the one beside her and Lonán sat beside Maeve.
“So,” Maeve whispered to her, “we meet the infamous brother.” Cáit saw a twinkle of mischief in her friend’s eyes.
“Approval? From the oh so picky bestie of mine?” Cáit quipped, “I was expecting the usual sniff of disdain or at least a hearty dose of disinterest.” Maeve took the playful ribbing in stride as Cáit knew she would.
“That male couldn’t be more perfect,” Maeve replied, “at least physically. I have more than a few choice words and a smack or twenty at the ready for how he’s treated that sweet little brother of his.”
“I’ve got a few of those lined up as well.” Cáit was surprised to hear Lonán quietly chime in, his voice taking on a hard edge, but she knew the two males had hit it off before even leaving the cabin. It warmed her to know they had not only accepted Deryn, but were willing to stand up for him even against powerful Fae.
As she waited, she turned her mind back to the prior conversation. If their mother was indeed Fae like hers, then they could both Settle and she would be able to spend centuries with them. As would Deryn, she realized, and she smiled at the thought of him having friends for more than a brief mortal lifespan.
D
Deryn entered the hillside and was not surprised to find it far larger on the inside than appeared possible from the exterior. He stayed quiet as his brother and the grove mother led him to a large round table. It looked sliced from an enormous tree, but he knew no blade had hewn it. A dozen will o’ wisps floated above the chamber, casting a blue glow over everything.
The grove mother eased herself onto one of the stump chairs and indicated he should take the one across from her. Pedr sat equally spaced between them on Deryn’s right, a silent indication that while he was likely to side with Deryn, he would listen to each party equally.
“You claim to have a solution to end our suffering at the hands of humans,” she stated, her voice sounding both as fragile as autumn leaves and as firm as ironwood, “yet you bring three mortals into our woods and demand we do not harm them.”
“I was sent to discover the weapon you claimed humans were using against our kind,” he replied, “I have found the cause of your suffering, but have learned it is not a weapon meant to harm us.”
“Not meant to harm us?!” She stood, her gnarled body straightening in her fury. “I have lost numerous younglings to these weapons.”
“I have felt them firsthand,” he countered, “they inflict grievous harm and prevent our magic from healing us.” He noticed his brother stiffen and a look of concern flash by so fast he wasn’t sure he hadn’t imagined it. “However, I’ve learned the purpose of these contraptions is simply to aid in hunting large game. The problem lies not in the trap’s design, but in its material. Iron it is called. I had mere flakes of it in my wound and it blocked my magic and allowed the injury to become foul.” Concern returned to his brother’s face, though it would be unnoticeable to anyone else.
“And yet here you are hale and whole,” Pedr countered. He nodded.
“Thanks to one of those mortals outside,” he admitted. “They removed the iron flakes and my magic returned, allowing me to recover normally.”
“So the mortals know our weakness,” the grove mother growled, “it may not be a weapon now, but it’s only a matter of time.”
“Only those in my company know the extent of what iron does to us,” he assured her, “they have worked to put a restriction in place that states no traps are to be used in these woods north of the river. Further restriction would likely bring our weakness to light and negatively hamper the humans’ ability to survive here.”
“These traps as you call them should not be in our woods at all!” Deryn fought a flinch as the grove mother loomed over him, her sunken eyes blazing like coals.
“It is a reasonable accommodation that keeps the mortals from learning a secret best left unknown,” Pedr countered smoothly, eyeing the grove mother who huffed and sat, “though what of the three with you? Killing them would be advisable, but you have granted them your protection.”
“I have my reasons, brother,” he said coolly, “not all I’ve learned pertains to this mission.” A raised eyebrow and a ghost of a nod assured Deryn his brother heard what was left unsaid. He would explain Cáit’s lineage and the possibility of Fae blood in the others without the extra ears currently present.
“Then I trust them to your care,” Pedr replied, “as long as they do not share the secret of this iron I see no reason to argue the matter.”
“I will warn my children of this iron and make sure no younglings venture south of the river,” the grove mother conceded. “Impart my gratitude to High Lord Caedryn when next you speak with him. Those of the woodland are grateful to have the aid of our brethren in this matter.” Deryn stood and sketched a bow to the grove mother.
“We of the shadow rejoice that aid could be given to our woodland brethren,” he said formally. He turned and headed for the door, keenly aware his brother was on his heels.
Deryn blinked blearily as the dappled sunlight blinded him. He found Cáit and the others sitting on logs right outside the hillside and felt the tension leave his shoulders. His friends were safe, he assured himself, though with Pedr now with them he was unsure how long they’d remain so.
C
Cáit looked up as Deryn exited the hillside, noting his brother followed, but not the gnarled Fae. She stood and heard Maeve and Lonán do the same.
“How did it go?” Cáit asked.
“They’ve agreed to the river being a boundary,” Deryn replied, “there should be no further attacks on your village.” She watched him pause and turn to his brother. “You set the fire, didn’t you?” Cáit felt fury boil within her, but before she could voice it, Maeve stepped forward.
“You torched the Murray’s farm?” Maeve hissed, her voice dropping in pitch and temperature as she stalked right into the male’s face. “Did you enjoy destroying the livelihood of five orphaned children? They lost both their parents in a harsh winter two years ago. The eldest is only fourteen and the youngest is five.” Cáit watched the male’s face as Maeve continued to berate him, her language becoming quite colorful as she did. She noticed a mixture of surprise and bemusement at first, but as Maeve’s tirade wore on Cáit could have sworn desire swam in those hooded green eyes.
“I have been made well aware that my actions have caused distress,” he conceded when Maeve finished. “How might I rectify such a grievous error?” Cáit noticed it was Maeve that looked bemused now, likely expecting him to not care in the slightest. Seeing her friend foundering for an answer, Cáit stepped in.
“The farm itself is being rebuilt, but most of the livestock died and an entire field of wheat and corn was lost. They will have shelter this winter, but food will be scarce.”
“Then I shall make sure food is plentiful for them,” he replied, though his gaze never strayed from Maeve. “Is that acceptable to you, mo’lasair?” Cáit glanced at Deryn, trying to gauge the meaning of the name. His expression was far more open than his brother, surprise and amusement clearly visible.
“Mo’lasair?” Maeve asked, “that better not be some Fae insult or I'll start taking my displeasure out on that flawless hide of yours with my brother’s knives.” Cáit smirked at Maeve’s hidden compliment as she watched Deryn’s brother flick his gaze to Lonán and the knives he kept strapped along his waist.
“I assure you it is no insult,” he said smoothly, “it translates to ‘my flame’, an endearment if you’ll allow it.” Cáit had to admit this male was smooth and seemed surprisingly interested in a female supposedly beneath him.
“Pedr,” Deryn interrupted, “save the flirting for later. We should be heading back. I don’t exactly want a repeat experience with those traps.”
D
Deryn stood transfixed as he watched his aloof brother practically trip over himself to appease Maeve. Mo’lasair, he knew, meant more than just ‘my flame’ though that was the direct translation. It referred to the very core of a Fae’s magic, roughly similar to a human’s soul. It was the most intense and intimate of endearments a Fae could use and was usually reserved for true mates. To hear his brother use such a term with Maeve had him reeling. He shook himself and focused on the more critical needs of his companions.
“Pedr,” he said, “save the flirting for later. We should be heading back. I don’t exactly want a repeat experience with those traps.” He watched his brother blink owlishly at him and then revert back to the aloof male Deryn was familiar with.
“Of course, little brother,” Pedr replied, “lead the way.” Deryn nodded to Lonán and then followed the hunter. His brother walked beside him though he knew his brother’s attention was focused on the female walking behind them.
“Mo’lasair?” Deryn whispered to his brother, “I’ve never known you to lay it on quite so thick.”
“You don’t…” Pedr shook his head, “her scent, it’s making everything fuzzy in the most wonderful way. Plus that tongue lashing. Where did you find her?” Deryn realized his brother was entirely serious and completely enamored with Maeve.
“The village south of here,” he replied, “are you saying she might be your true mate?”
“I don’t know,” Pedr admitted, “her scent is human and yet…”
“We suspect her mother was a fire Fae,” he whispered, “as you know it’s not as common with lower Fae, but she could Settle in a few years.” Deryn watched his brother’s eyes light up in a way he hadn’t seen in decades.
“I can be patient,” Pedr assured him, “I wonder if you can say the same though. I haven’t missed the fact your scent is practically drenching the other female.” Deryn felt his cheeks heat, though a primal side of him purred in satisfaction at the acknowledgment. He waited until they were back at the edge of the clearing before dropping the secret.
“It is even more complicated than that,” he confided, “her mother was Arianwen.” He was not surprised when his brother nearly took a spill headfirst at his information and thoroughly enjoyed seeing his brother once again without his carefully crafted composure.
“That means father…” Pedr shook his head and Deryn knew his mind was reeling from the implications, “he would have no qualms eliminating a mortal, no matter their bloodline, to protect his throne. The others won’t even acknowledge her until she’s Settled.” Deryn nodded, having already come to the same conclusion. “Complicated, little brother, is quite the understatement.”
“Which is why I’m so very glad you’re here now,” Deryn stated sincerely, “we are in dire need of a plan.” He hadn’t expected Pedr to turn up, but his brother had far more skill at courtly dealings than he did. With his brother’s interest in Maeve already swaying him to help, their chances of success had already improved dramatically.
C
Cáit watched the brothers whispering to each other as they made their trek back. She couldn’t hear a word of it, but knew her best friend was likely the main topic. She glanced at Maeve, trying to glean her thoughts on the brother. Maeve was watching Pedr as though she was unsure whether to consider him a treat or a trap.
“We’d be officially sisters,” she prompted her friend, “and he did seem genuinely upset about the fire.”
“Only because I was upset about it,” Maeve reminded her. “Though perhaps that is a start. For a snob, he seemed awfully accommodating and considerate of a mere mortal’s feelings.”
“You are hardly a mere anything,” Cáit argued, “and you did let him have it rather soundly which seemed to pique his interest. Perhaps most of the snobbish attitude is actually an act because it’s what is expected.”
“Mo’lasair,” Maeve whispered, her voice taking on a softness Cáit hadn’t heard before, “an endearment if I'll allow it.” She watched her friend shake her head as though to clear it, “The boy has a silken tongue to be sure, but I’m not swayed by a few pretty words.”
Cáit let the conversation trail off as she picked her way through the deepening gloom. She had always had better than average eyesight in such dimness and knew Maeve was likely having a harder time avoiding the treacherous roots. Her attention was drawn up ahead as Pedr stumbled and nearly faceplanted at the edge of the clearing. A soft giggle fluttered from her friend indicating she too had witnessed Fae grace failing the brother.
Evening’s fiery hues greeted her as she stepped into the clearing. The three males had stopped and she noticed Pedr seemed to be the one leading the conversation.
“…will expect reports from both of us. It may be the safest place for her until she Settles.” Cáit knew he was referring to her, so stepped into the conversation.
“Should I not have a say in this discussion?” Pedr turned to her, his green eyes briefly giving away his surprise.
“Indeed,” he agreed, “I would suggest we go no further until we are all in agreement on how to proceed.” He punctuated the statement by shifting into his malk form and plopping down in the grass. She heard a restrained squeal of delight from behind her and knew Maeve was dying to get her hands on the silken fur. Deryn dug in his pack and spread out the blanket for them before shifting as well.
Cáit saw even in their malk forms there were marked differences between the brothers. Deryn was significantly smaller and could pass as an overly large, fluffy house cat with his head reaching her knees. Pedr on the other hand was more likely to be mistaken for a small bear with his height being far closer to Cáit’s waist than her knees. His fur was short and meticulous from his tufted ear tip to his smooth tail and did nothing to hide the rippling muscles beneath. She had once read a book depicting a large jungle cat called a black panther that seemed to fit the Fae before her. Cáit situated herself on the blanket with Lonán and Maeve flanking her. She knew her lineage was the main reason for needing a plan, but didn’t know the extent of why.
Continue Reading: Part 10
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