The Thirteenth Rider
Ch. 19: The Fairy Moon (First Night)
A/N: Believe it or not, this story is starting to wrap up now, with only 4-5 chapters left (I have the whole thing plotted out). Thank you to my many loyal (and patient readers). I have officially joined AO3 and will be working on posting my works over there as well. So please drop by and leave reviews so new readers can find my stuff.
Enjoy!
Silent in her glory, the moon began her slow ascent into the starry sky. This was her time. Her favourite time. A special one that came only once a millennia. She could feel the magic shimmering in the air as she rose. Oh yes. The sweet taste of ancient forces swirling through the veils between the worlds, as the silvered tendrils of magic started to slip through into the Aboveground. She would be full the following night and for two whole nights the magic would swell around her, enchanting all who felt its touch.
Yes. It was a special time of magic.
Magic…and mayhem.
As she thought of the ancient magic working its way across the land, her color shifted from pearlescent cream to a shimmery golden-red. She knew this time was special. From her height she could already see the red tinge rolling across the land, like a vast ocean of blood, tainting all it touched. She could feel the ripple through the land below her and heard the chorus of old voices, those who read the signs in the stars and in the land, and knew their meaning.
Blood on the full moon.
Death was coming.
And it rode a black horse.
Unlike the moon, Oscar didn't hear the voices, but he knew something was happening just the same. He didn't know much about moons, fairy or otherwise, but he did know the feel of magic and the amount of magic seeping from the very ground around the village this night, was enough to have his fur on edge. It was everywhere, slithering up through the cracks in the stone floor of the cottage, creeping under the door and through the edges of the windows. He could see it curling around his owner as she sat in her chair knitting and trying to ignore the yelling coming from the kitchen.
The elderly cat hauled himself away from the warmth of the hearth, and slowly climbed his way onto the low bookshelf set under the parlor window.
A red moon.
Oh yes, he had seen it all before. He was an old cat after all, far older than the humans realized. His line extended back into antiquity, to the time of the pharaohs and before. Once the protectors of great temples, now, he protected the passages of time, small gaps in the mysts of time that dotted the lands around this small cottage. Usually, the passages of time merely seeped small amounts of magic, blue and purple shadows that did no more than lead travelers astray or tease the weak-willed to get lost upon the moors. But tonight, the gaps had widened, practically seething with magic, both Fae and wyld.
Like the moon, Oscar knew what was coming. He'd seen this happen once before, when he was a small kitten, still upon his mother's teat. The portals were forming and soon, they would open, unleashing magic that this world had not tasted in a hundred years or more. And with it, chaos would reign.
Sighing he looked back at his owner. He liked her well enough, and hoped she would be able to escape what was coming, but he felt in his bones that her time on this plane was short. Being human, she didn't know the true import, but he knew she felt disquieted tonight, her knitting needles clicking and clacking at a furious pace.
Oscar turned his black eyes toward the window, peering out into the deepening gloom of the night as the moon rose higher. If he was a younger cat, he might stick around and watch the chaos unfold. He could taste the faint tinge of something unknown in the magic that was surrounding the little cottage and it made him curious. It tasted sweet, like summer mornings laying in the dew of the flower beds, but there was something bitter in it as well, coppery and ashen. Yes, something was coming. That much was clear and if he was a cat with any sense, he'd abandon his post and flee through a portal to hide in the mysts until the chaos had finished – if it ever did. But no, he had a job to do, even if that was only to watch the chaos unfold.
Hissing, his thoughts were interrupted by an angry snarl from the kitchen. The black man with the wispy hair was back and in the kitchen with the girl, who was apparently being stubborn, if the yelling was anything to go by. Oscar glared at the hearth, as all around it the shadows danced. His owner couldn't see them for what they were, but he could. He watched their beady golden eyes as they cavorted in the shadows, dancing and cackling. The minions of the black man were only one of the reasons Oscar didn't trust him. Of course, it didn't help that the dark man reeked of the unknown magic, ashen and coppery. The only reason Oscar didn't protest his presence in the house was the fact that the dark man felt the evil portent inherent in the red moon…and he was worried. Oscar could feel it in the black man's magic felt crisp and sharp as it swirled restlessly around him, and the girl with the green eyes. The dark man was worried. Very. Worried.
"Bloody Hell, Sarah, why can't you see reason?" the black man snapped, his black leather boots heels clicking sharply on the tiles of the kitchen.
Of the two mystical creatures, Oscar preferred the green man….he smelled of forests and didn't yell. The black man smelled of thunderstorms and spice usually, and that odd bitter smell tonight, and he did yell. A lot. Still, the black man was preferable to the others who had been hanging about for the past month. No one else seemed to notice them, but Oscar saw them, lurking on top of the moor, tall, wraith-like creatures with glowing red eyes, and a smaller one, who appeared as a grey shadow moving amongst them. They never came near the cottage, but he could feel them watching, like they were waiting for something.
Hopping down from his perch, Oscar sat in the doorway of the kitchen and watched the argument continue. The black man's hair was wilder than usual, standing out around his head as his eyes flashed angrily at the girl, the sound of his magic snapping and crackling through the air. The girl on the other hand, stood at the other end of the kitchen, her arms folded across her chest, glaring at the black man, her own body seeming to shimmer with a blue aura as her anger grew to match his. The two of them had been arguing like this for the last hour, with neither showing any sign of backing down. How his owner could ignore it and keep knitting, Oscar didn't know.
"No, Jareth. Don't ask me again," the girl said, shaking her head. "I will not hide away in the Labyrinth during the full moon. If you can't protect me here, you can't protect me there, not while you are on the Hunt with the riders."
Sounding like a big cat, the black man growled in frustration, "Why must you be so damn stubborn, woman? The Fairy Moon is powerful, but what is about to occur is a once in a millennia phenomenon."
Still the girl stood her ground, defiantly shaking her head.
"Blast it all woman!" the man bellowed, his eyes briefly going red before fading to blue once more, glasses rattling in the cupboards from the force of his anger. "I should just take you by force and lock you in the dungeon myself. Hell…an oubliette!"
The girl pursed her lips, arching an eyebrow as she looked at him. "First of all, you swore an oath not to take me by force…"
"That was in regards to your body, Precious," the black man hissed, slamming his hands down on the table as he leaned toward her, making her take a step back from the table. "I made no such oath regarding how I protect you in keeping my oath to your grandmother – an oath which precedes your own, Sarah."
Oscar saw her stubbornness falter and a look of fear cross her face, as the black man sighed, taking a deep breath and backing away from the table. The man ran a hand through his hair, making it stand up even more wildly, making Oscar hiss in laughter as he looked like a wild cat who had been stroked the wrong way.
"Sarah, come to the castle for tonight at least. I must ride with the Wyld Hunt the first night, so that we do not raise the suspicions of those who seek to harm you. We can set a changling here in your place while you are safe in the Labyrinth. Hell, have a party with your furry friends, I do not care what you do so long as it within the confines of my castle and the Labyrinth.
"Our castle," she grumbled, her face downturned in a pout.
The dark man's lips twisted in a smile at that. "Yes…our…castle, love. While you may not wish to consummate things, you have certainly come a long way in accepting your destiny," he said smoothly, while Oscar's lips curled into a snarl at the cruel glint in the black man's eyes. Ignoring Oscar's objection, the dark man continued, "You know the goblins and Labyrinth itself would destroy anyone or anything that tried to harm you, Precious."
"Why won't you just tell me why it is so dangerous this time?" she asked, her green eyes flickering with mistrust. "I'm not a child, Jareth!"
"Then why are you being stubborn like one, Sarah?" the dark man protested, throwing his hands in the air with an inarticulate snarl of frustration.
At the snarl, the man's magic flared, swirling and twining with the tendrils of wyld magic now filling the little cottage. Oscar was a little surprised the dark man didn't notice the wyld magic around them, although he supposed the man was a bit too angry to notice much of anything, except the way the girl defied him at every turn.
Oscar always thought feline females were a stubborn lot. The girl with the green eyes was worse – particularly where the dark man was concerned.
"Fine! You want to know…I'll tell you," the dark man snapped, his usually pale eyes flickering red in his irritation. "Because the Fairy Moon itself is powerful, but this weekend is also Beltane. While the little celebration in the village seems harmless enough, and in truth, it does not even come close to invoking the ancient magic it once would have, Beltane is still a powerful time. This land is filling with magic, Sarah. Can't you feel it?"
She shrugged, but Oscar could see her demeanor starting to thaw as she listened to the dark man, "It is just a renewal festival. Fertility. Prosperity. That sort of thing, right?"
"Yes…and think about it… if someone wanted to breed you girl, to steal my throne and both of our power, what better time to attempt it than during the time of the ancient fertility rite?" the man purred, his lips curling in a cruel smile at the look of understanding and horror that crept into the girl's eyes. "Ah…I see I have your attention now."
She nodded, biting her lip and avoiding the dark man's gaze.
"Just for tonight," she finally muttered, giving in to the dark man's demands. "You have until dawn tomorrow to find a way to protect me here Above for the next two nights."
The dark man smirked, doing a poor job hiding his sense of victory now that she finally gave in. There was something about that look that made Oscar fear for the girl. Turning to look at the hearth he heard the minions of the dark man whispering and cackling.
"Majesty won't need to protect her in the morning….yeah *snicker*…she'll be queen by then….bound to King…*heheee*…bound to US you mean…shhh…pipe down Blot…bound to Labyrinth….nah, Snort…bound to ALL of us…." Their yellow eyes shone gleefully from the depths of the dark shadows all around the room as they argued amongst themselves, his owner blissfully oblivious to them, while still fixated on the feeling of unease that consumed her.
Oscar looked up as the dark man reached for the girl, who didn't flinch from the gloved hand, instead tucking her hand into it. Wrinkling his nose up, Oscar watched as the man pulled her to his chest, her cheeks flushing pink when the man's arm wrapped around her, pinning her against him, his lips brushing her ear and whispering something that made her cheeks turn crimson.
As far as Oscar was concerned, those two would be far happier if they'd just mate and be done with it. They might even stop yelling, which would make Oscar's life more relaxing. Although, in all honesty, since the last night of the full moon the previous month, they hadn't done quite this much yelling at each other. Not that they had been curled up around each other like sensible cats would have been, but an uneasy peace between them seemed to have been declared. The girl ceased cringing away from the man, and Oscar had noticed that she seemed to touch him more often. Being just a cat, he wasn't sure what had changed between them, but was enjoying the peace.
As the moon settled high in the sky, Oscar watched the dark man spin a silvery crystal from the mysts. The man dropped the crystal in the kitchen, and Oscar felt the two people shift across the mysts of time, disappearing from the room. He got to his feet to inspect the kitchen, only to yowl when the girl suddenly reappeared – screaming and crying. She crumpled to the white tiles, her arms and face covered in fine cuts that marred her pale flesh. Red magic swirled around her as if licking at the cuts on her body.
It had begun.
Nana had been listening to the Goblin King and Sarah argue for what seemed like ages, when she heard them stop and smiled. She glanced into the kitchen to see Sarah tucked in the King's arms, his formal armor melting away, to be replaced with the casual leggings and loose shirt he wore when he was in a good mood. She had to chuckle to herself, you could often read his mood by his clothing. Seeing him conjure a crystal, she assumed the two were going to go away together. They had taken to stealing away together quite often over the last month, and she never felt any need to know where they were going, the fact that they weren't fighting and seemed happy in each other's company was good enough for her.
True, it was the first night of the Fairy Moon, but who better to protect the girl than the 13th Rider. Her betrothed. The Goblin King himself.
Shrugging Nana went back to her knitting, still trying to shake the feeling that something was wrong. She peered out the sitting room window and saw the reddish glow of the full moon as it headed higher into the night.
Blood on the moon. Bad moon rising.
Well, that explains the uneasiness…she thought to herself, trying to reassure herself that it was likely nothing, just a bit of old kitchen witch superstition.
Hearing Jareth's crystal break in the kitchen, Nana Miller relaxed to know Sarah was safe with him. Then in the next instant she heard Sarah screaming and sobbing. Dropping her knitting, the yarn ball rolled under the sofa as she rushed into the kitchen. She found Sarah crumpled on the floor, covered in cuts across her arms, legs and face, leaving her clothes torn and bloody. As the girl thrashed in pain, crimson drops trickled onto the old white tiles.
"Sarah!" the old woman cried out, grabbing a dish towel and dropping to the floor next to the girl. "What happened? Where's Jareth?" she asked, gently trying dab at the numerous cuts that covered her beloved granddaughter. "What in blue blazes did this?" she asked, nearing tears herself.
Unable to answer, her granddaughter continued to scream and writhe, as Nana Miller tried to help her, relieved when the air around them began to shimmer and Jareth appeared. He dropped to his knees near Sarah, the leather cloak of his Goblin armor swirling around him as he reached out for Sarah, his eyes narrowed in concern. The Goblin King gently caressed her jaw, tilting her face up to see the bleeding lines. At his touch she calmed somewhat, still sobbing and moaning, her eyes wide in terror. Reaching out, she clutched at his armor, pulling him close.
"Oh Precious," he murmured, the worry in his expression warring with the anger he felt at whatever did this.
"Red eyes…" she murmured in gasping sobs. "Red eyes…burning….Jareth."
Frowning, Jareth ripped the gloves from his hands, settling on the floor and pulling her protectively into his lap. He held her close with one arm, his cloak seeming to wrap itself around the two of them of its own accord. Sarah shivered and groaned, not releasing her hold on him as she repeated herself over and over.
"Red eyes…burning…Jareth…red eyes….red….so red…" she whimpered fitfully as he tried to calm her.
"Shh…Love…I've got you….you're safe," he murmured, tracing the bleeding cuts one by one with his bare hand.
What the hell happened to her, Goblin King?!" Nana Miller hissed, her wrinkled face glaring angrily at him. "Is this what you call protecting her? Your oath?! It's worthless! You broke it!"
"Shush, woman!" he growled at her, calming only when the frustration in his voice made Sarah cower and whine in his lap, trying to hide under the cloak. His tone softening, he glared at Nana Miller, were it not for his worry over Sarah, he would have happily sent the woman to an oubliette, but as it was, he was not sure if he could even do that. If the portal had closed for his fae-bound queen, what did that mean for a mere human who wasn't bound to him or his kingdom. "I did not do this to her, it should not have happened. Sarah agreed to stay in the castle tonight, for her own safety. I opened the portal that exists between this place and the Goblin Castle. We were nearly there. I felt myself slip through which should have immediately pulled her through with me as she is bound to me, but the portal closed, ripping her away from me. If it weren't for the charms on this cottage and Sarah, she would have been lost to the mysts."
Nana gasped, holding the tea towel over her mouth. "But…what? Why?"
He shook his head, tenderly tracing his fingers over the bleeding cuts on her legs, "I don't know what happened, or why. But it is strong magic. See, the cuts…they are resisting my magic," he replied, continuing to run his fingers gently over the red slices in her flesh, his frown deepening as they only partially stopped bleeding.
In the back of his skull he felt the tremor and heard the Goblin Horn being blown to call the riders to the hunt, and snarled. "Blast it all….the Hunt. I have to go. They can't suspect that we know what someone is trying to do to Sarah," he sighed, caressing her cheek, then kissing her forehead as she trembled in his lap, still muttering and whimpering, her hands clutching him fearfully.
"You can't leave her like this!" Nana Miller snapped, unable to believe he would even think about leaving her. Not now, quivering like an injured animal.
"Damnit woman….I am sure whoever is doing this is watching the hunt, if I don't appear, they will come for her for sure! They will know she is far more valuable than they thought," he grumbles, his magic thundering in the small kitchen, making Sarah scream and flinch away from him. Sighing, he hugged her close with both arms, shushing her like a small child. "Shh…love…I'm sorry….I'm sorry…shh….rest, Precious. Please."
As she cried, her face buried against the leather breastplate of his armor, he turned his face upward, "Grandfather…I have need of you," he called softly, not wanting to frighten the girl further.
The next instant the air shivered with a green mist as Finnavhar appeared. "You called, Jarethkintan…" he asked with a merry smile that disappeared when he saw Sarah, bleeding and moaning in Jareth's arms, and the look of helpless anger on the younger king's face.
Jareth looked up at his grandfather, struggling to hold back the anger that begged to be unleashed at the thought of someone harming his bride. She might be an infuriating and stubborn girl, but by the Gods, she was his.
"We were nearly through the mysts and into the portal when she was ripped from me. I heard her screaming and thought her lost in the mysts, until I felt her here," he said, rocking Sarah gently while she whimpered and moaned in pain, still muttering about the red eyes.
Reaching out, Finnavhar ran his finger over one of the still seeping cuts, frowning when it failed to heal. "She's been tainted," he muttered, feeling his own anger spark on behalf of the girl and his grandson.
"Yes, but by what?" asked Jareth, trying still to calm Sarah, as her grandmother sat nearby, dabbing her own tears with the dish cloth.
Finnavhar shook his head, "I know not, and if your portal is blocked to the girl, then I can't transport her to the High Court either." Frowning he looked at the girl, her face covered in fine red lines. "It has to be Unseelie magic, but this is very old, to do this much damage and resist even my power to heal. I can heal the land…that is my calling as the Green Man, I should be able to heal a daughter of Earth," he rumbled softly, careful not to scare Sarah, who had not stopped whimpering and moaning since he arrived.
The Goblin Horn sounded again, making Jareth grimace as it caused him increasing physical pain to ignore it.
"Grandfather…I have to….I don't…but…" He began, his odd eyes looking helplessly at his grandfather, as his beloved quivered in his arms.
"Go, my boy. I'll stay and protect her," Finnavhar said, holding his arms out for Sarah. Jareth gently shifted her into his grandfather's arms, bristling slightly with jealousy at seeing her in the arms of another male. Finnavhar felt the jealousy seep from his grandson and smiled, "Relax, Jarethkintan. She is safe with me. Go…ride in the Hunt. Find who did this. I will seek answers here and work to heal your queen."
Leaning over, Jareth kissed Sarah's forehead, his heart breaking a bit at the way she flinched and whined at his touch, "Red eyes…so red…Jareth…burning me…."
With the faint taste of her blood on his lips he rose, the ethereal cloak seeming to hiss with his angry movement toward the lounge. "Goblins! Attend!" he snarled, pointing back toward the kitchen, where Sarah continued to cry and groan in Finnavhar's arms, her grandmother attempting to bandage some of the cuts. Black figures poured from the shadows, their yellow eyes shifting to red in response to the red eyes of their Master as he looked at them, his anger palpable in the small parlor.
"Protect the queen," he ordered, his tone deadly. "Kill anything…anyone…that dares enter this cottage and is not marked as goblin."
The goblins nodded, their faces seeming to transform from their usual comical ugliness to something dark and forbidding. Their faces broke into feral, slavering grins filled with pointed, razor-sharp fangs, while their fingers lengthened to wickedly serrated claws. As one they cackled softly, clawed fingers flexing as if waiting to dig into soft, yielding flesh. "The queen…protect…the queen…" they whispered, disbursing back into the shadows to sit guard, while their enraged monarch disappeared, leaving behind only the faint scent of burning ash.
A/N: And…..the plot thickens. Hope you enjoyed this chapter.