Excerpt
Heartsick,
the Lord of the Unseelie slipped from Carterhaugh through the portal oak. He
materialized into Elphyne, trembling. There was someone he missed as much as
Tam missed his father, and, like Old Thomas, he was never returning—to this
realm or the mortal one.
He
ambled through the pristine meadows and grasslands of his grandmother’s seelie
kingdom and slipped easily into the forest that bordered his own.
Much
of the Sìth folk gave him the space his rank was due, especially the ones who
had known and feared his grandfather, Finveara. But the unseelie creatures
found Alfarinn exhausting. They made a point of glaring with beady eyes and
sharp hisses whenever he passed by. He was no Finveara.
It
wasn’t until he reached the marshes that Alfarinn noticed something was odd. He
stopped abruptly and looked around, hoping the stillness in the damp air was
only the result of his sister’s mysterious cats mid-stalk.
His
grey Sìth eyes settled on a horse head bobbing in the muddy waters, with a
passenger in the form of a slimy snail. This could only be one particular
kelpie. The Lord of the Unseelie groaned and approached his nosy subject.
“Your
grandfather would have thrown a fireball at me for spying,” Ceol teased.
The
silver beast pulled himself up out of the water and shook from snout to tail.
It was a miracle that his pet snail did not fly off.
Alfarinn
whipped the water from his clothes with a wave of his hand. “You admit to
spying?”
“Perhaps
a little.”
Ceol’s
horse face split into an eerie, sharp-toothed grin as his monstrous body
metamorphosized into the figure of a man. The kelpie usually graced the courts
in faerie form but there were times that he retreated to the cool marshes to
transform into his true nature. It was a face he only showed his kin, his
master, and his victims.
“I’m
just curious, my lord. Why do you sulk about your holdings? Do you seek
mischief? If so, I am eager to be of assistance.”
Alfarinn
snickered as the smiling kelpie delicately hid his precious creature in his
enchanted pocket. “Are you now? Actually, I could use a little help, Ceol.”
The
kelpie pranced about, waving his arms wildly.
Alfarinn
raised a hand in warning. “This will require more stealth than anything, Ceol.
I will not have you mauling anyone for this task.”
The
kelpie deflated and gave a resentful pout. “But I haven’t mauled anyone in
ages!” he whined.
Alfarinn
did his best to hide his shiver. Kelpies were forbidden from attacking other
fae, but the souls of mortals were fair game. Tam fit into both categories,
much to the kelpie population’s displeasure.
“What
if I told you that this mischief would be wrought on a certain earthly knight?
Would you be willing to play my game to be rid of him?”
The
kelpie reverted back to his horse form and danced fluidly around his master.
“Pretty Tam’s flesh is tantalizing, and his soul would be delicious. If you
want to be rid of him, let me have him. I’ll not tell a Sìth it was you.”
Alfarinn
scowled, channeling his grandfather’s energy. The kelpie recoiled.
“No,
Ceol. The queen would fly into a rage the likes of which we’ve never seen.”
The
creature’s eye fixed on the Sìth lord, gleaming maliciously. “Are you afraid of
her, Lord of the Unseelie?” It was a declaration more than a question, a search
for weakness in the chain of command.
Alfarinn
squinted and folded his arms over his chest, pulling himself up to full height.
“Afraid! No. I am her grandson,” he reminded with a smug smile. “She loves kin
above all else. You, on the other hand, council member or not, would do well to
keep in her good graces.”
Ceol
swallowed and quickly changed back into his less-intimidating configuration.
“Noted.”
He
looked about the marsh for a moment, perhaps weighing his choices, and fondled
the poor snail in his pocket. After some moments avoiding his exasperated
master, the kelpie turned and nodded his acceptance.
“So,
what exactly must I do to annoy the tasty mortal boy?”
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