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Chapter 29
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He was blessedly cool and comfortable. The searing heat and dryness no longer gnawed at him, and he had vague memories of them gradually fading as he was carried. Eyes cracking open, Jareth found himself to be in a concrete room—narrow, spartan and wonderfully dark—and laying on a simple cot. The Compound… He licked in lips, which were parched beyond simple chapping. No moisture transferred from his tongue, and he cleared his throat, which became a coughing fit, and he rolled to his side and partially sat.
"If I didn't know better, I'd think you were faking just get my sympathy."
"Wh-?" Jareth glanced up mid-cough. Sarah stood a few feet away, one shoulder resting on the open door frame. Though her tone was teasing, her small smile was genuine, soft even.
"Here," she stepped forward and handed him an open canteen, "try this."
"Thank you." He managed to rasp and gulped fresh water until he'd drained it. His body screamed for more, but his stomach sloshed with nausea as he laid back.
"Better?" she asked, accepting the canteen.
He covered his eyes with a hand. "I'm not quite certain." Weakness pervaded every inch of him. It's just dehydration. Don't think about your magic.
She sat in the only chair and scooted it next to him. Not that it was a far distance. The entire room wasn't much larger than his da's sarcophagus, as grand as that had been. Their hands reached for each other at the same time, and though her grip was stronger than his he made up for it by pouring all his emotions into his eyes.
"Oh, Jareth…" she said and kissed him. Her lips tasted better than the water, and he did his best to pull her closer with his opposite arm until her weight rested fully upon him. She tensed. "I don't want to hurt you."
"You could never hurt me," he murmured against her lips and tightened his hold.
She ducked her head under his chin. "Don't say that."
"Why?"
"You know that's not true."
"Sarah…"
"You know how much I hated you." Pressed close to his chest, he felt her swallow hard. "Before."
He stroked her hair and wrapped her in his arms. She shifted until she lay completely on top of him.
"Perhaps," he said, "but things are different now, yes?"
She nodded vigorously, gripped his shirt and sniffed.
"Then all before is forgotten, my love."
A dry, humorless laugh escaped her. "Love. I don't know."
Jareth coaxed her head up to face him. "Don't you?"
She shrugged. "I've never loved anyone before. Except family."
"You mean a man."
Her lower lip slipped between her teeth, and Jareth's groin tingled. Good gods, does she even know what she does to me? "Yeah," she said, "that."
Clearing his throat, he said, "Understandable, but your anxiety is unnecessary."
"Have you ever loved before?"
"A man?"
"What?" She pushed her torso off his, then slapped his chest. "No! A woman! Ugh…"
Jareth laughed as he pulled her back down. "Sarah, this is not a fair question. Remember, I am quite a bit older than you."
"So?"
"So, yes, I have had previous experiences with women."
Her face reddened, and her voice became stilted. "Well, it's not like I thought you were, you know, a virgin."
"A fortunate belief to accept."
She rolled her eyes. "For you or me?"
"Ah, for both?"
"You still haven't answered my question."
"Which was?"
"Have you ever loved someone?"
He breathed deeply and held her close. Her heart thrummed next to his, and Jareth allowed his mind to drift. "I have loved many in my time. I have loved my parents, and I love my siblings as you love Toby." She sighed at that. He'd never told her about his brother and sister. That would have to change now, and he welcomed the freedom. Too long had he relegated them to the background of his mind while dealing with Sarah and her world. He missed them.
"Quit avoiding."
He pecked her on the forehead, and whispered against her skin. "I have loved only one other woman in my life, and not only does she pale in comparison to you, Sarah Williams, but she betrayed me and broke my heart."
"Jareth."
"Hence part of the reason for my animosity towards you."
"Me?"
"When I am honest with myself, when I think back over everything, I know my heart felt something for you immediately."
"Really?" Her eyes widened as she tilted her head.
"Oh yes, Sarah love, my heart knew what it wanted before my mind would accept it."
"That's why you were so … so hot and cold."
He raised a brow. "I prefer mercurial."
"Ha! I bet you do." She snuggled close and kissed his neck, making him groan. "You know I was fifteen then."
"Umm…"
"That's kind of icky."
"Spoken like a human trying to hold a Goblin King to mortal strictures."
She kissed up to his chin. "Still icky, Jareth."
He met her lips halfway. "And now?"
They breathed in unison. "Not so much," she whispered.
"How very generous of you, my love," he said before meeting her tongue with his.
Eventually, passion dissipated in the face of Jareth's weakness and hunger, and Sarah helped him walk to a nearby bathroom, and then helped him, limping and panting, back to his room. Having settled him onto his cot, Sarah knelt on the floor and finger-combed his hair.
"I'll get you something to eat, okay?"
Jareth angled into her hand and closed his eyes. "Mmhmm."
"You gonna to be awake when I get back?"
"Mmm."
She patted his head and chuckled. "Be back soon."
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jsjsjsjsj
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A week later and Jareth's strength had improved, though nowhere near his previous health. Sarah spent her time taking care of him and Toby, who was down the hall. Which left little time for herself.
"Is he any better?"
Sarah turned. Len had poked his head in the room. Unable to bear being parted from him for long, she'd been sharing her room with Toby so she could monitor and care for him whenever she wasn't doing the same for Jareth.
"Define better."
Len squinted and frowned. "Uh…"
Sarah waved off his answer. "I was kidding. His fever broke yesterday, he recognizes me, answers simple questions and is calmer."
"So he's better?"
She tucked the blanket around Toby and stood. "He seems to be, but..." She shrugged and shoved her hands in her pant pockets as she stared at her brother. His hair stuck up in tangled hanks, and he gripped the thin blanket in fingers that were far too thin and sallow.
Len stepped inside. "But what?"
"I'm barely getting enough food in him. I don't know how long he can last without this," she nudged her shoulder in Toby's direction, "changing."
Len crossed his arms and leaned back against the door. "What about Jareth. How's he doing?"
"Getting stronger." Her face warmed. "I can hardly keep his hands off me."
He grinned. "Why would you want to?"
"I don't! I mean…" She glanced at Toby, then grabbed Len's arm and dragged him into the hall and shut the door behind them. Len's grin had grown and his eyes sparkled wickedly.
"Ow, don't punch me!" He rubbed his shoulder.
"Well don't look at me like that!"
"Sorry, but what's the problem? I thought you loved him."
She shuffled her feet, then walked to the railing, grabbed it, arched her back and leaned. "Maybe?"
"Maybe? Fixer, you can't be serious. After all this and you give me a maybe?"
She stood and turned. "How can I be sure of anything while my brother might die?"
"You can't be afraid."
"I'm not!"
"If you say so."
Sarah stared over the railing, watching residents several levels below busy at various activities. The electricity was working consistently, so she was able to make out most details well enough from the half a dozen main lights. The location for this compound had been chosen well by the old military and government. Any corruption aside, they'd certainly known their geography. An underground river ran beneath it, which they used for hydropower, fresh water and a basic plumbing system. It was the next thing to paradise.
"What if … what if he doesn't mean it?"
"Fixer."
"What if he changes his mind afterwards?"
"I've seen how he looks at you. He wouldn't do that."
"Wouldn't he?" She ducked and wiped her face with both hands. "God, I can't believe I'm telling you this."
Len leaned on the railing next to her. "Lots of things have changed, haven't they?"
"Yeah."
"So take a chance for once. What's the worst that could happen?"
"The worst…" she whispered. "Who knows."
"Fixer," Len slipped an arm around her shoulders, "just trust your gut on this, and trust him. It'll all end up okay."
She looked over at him. "Even Toby?"
"You can't use your brother as excuse to stop living."
She pursed her lips and nodded. "Maybe you're right. Maybe it's time."
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Jareth wandered the dim halls. He'd been doing it more frequently the last few weeks in an effort to regain more of his strength. Initially, he'd felt a quick improvement in his muscles and his ability to walk without assistance, but he'd plateaued a few days ago. Perhaps he should stop expending so much energy chasing Sarah. His lips twitched in a half smirk. As if that would ever happen. She'd release her fears soon. He need only to preserve.
After a few laps, his body shook and he was short of breath. Almost to his room, he paused, placing a hand flat to a wall to support his weight.
This is quite pathetic.
'No, this is the last of your magic.'
Da? Jareth lifted his head, panting. Still with me?
His father chuckled in his mind. 'I'll always be with you, my son.'
How much longer do I have, Da?
'Don't think about such things. Your destiny is not set.'
Jareth narrowed his eyes. I don't understand.
"There you are!"
Jareth turned. "Sarah?"
"I've been looking for you."
"Ah, was walking laps."
She slipped her arm around his waist. "I must've just missed your last one."
He cocked his head. There was an unusual tone in her voice, and vibrancy in her face that he'd never noticed. Brows drawing together, he draped his arm over her shoulders and tucked her close.
"Sarah," he drawled.
"What?" she asked as she guided him to his room.
"You're hiding something."
They stood outside his door as her fingers slowly tip-toed up his chest, and her eyes were half-lidded. "Who says I'm hiding anymore?"
A brow arched. "Pardon?"
"I'm," her smile was tentative, but her eyes were bright, "ready."
"Ready," he echoed as her hand cupped the back of his head and pulled him into a kiss. Her fingers threaded in his hair, and her nails dug into his scalp just enough to elicit a moan from him. Where had this emotionally forward Sarah come from? She pushed him through his doorway, she kicked it shut and they stumbled backwards. Jolts of adrenaline zapped Jareth as her hands pressed him down to the cot. The metal and stretched material squealed as their combined weight settled.
"Jareth," she whispered as she ran her hands beneath his shirt.
Sudden energy filled him and tingled across his skin. What was this? They'd touched often enough but he'd never felt this. Need washed over him, and Jareth shoved her shirt up and buried his face in her neck. "Sarah!" She groaned and arched her back until her chest pressed firmly against his and their pelvises ground together. "Oh gods, love!"
"Jareth, please," she gazed down at him, her long hair streaming over her shoulders, "I don't know what to do."
If his time in the world had come to an end, if his mission to find the Nexus had failed to come to fruition, then why shouldn't he enjoy the last of his life?
"Oh, love." He slipped his hands over her torso, coaxing her shirt off. He'd been teased by her bare chest in the last few weeks as they tested boundaries, but this was different. She was a goddess lying half naked atop him. He feasted on her offerings; she gasped and wiggled against his hardness. How much was he to take?
He grabbed her bottom and thrust their pelvises together while Sarah supported her upper weight by holding the edges of the cot. Running his fingers inside the top of her pants, he found her front fastener and quickly undid it. Before she could protest—as she had in the past—he pushed her pants and panties down. Sarah rolled to one side, kicked her shoes off and finished shimmying out of her pants.
She was glorious!
He reached for her. "Sarah…"
"Off!" She unbuttoned his leather pants and returned the favor, which he helped by lifting his hips as she stripped him.
"Yes, ma'am." He grinned at her evil glare, then finished the job by removing his shirt.
Sarah paused, her eyes traveling his body, then she touched him and covered her hand with his.
"Careful."
She released her delicate grip. "I'm sorry."
He replaced her hand around him and shook his head. "Oh no, you don't. No more teasing, my love."
Her smile was beautiful as she stroked his manhood, then straddled him. "No more teasing."
Jareth grasped her hips as her moist heat covered him and gritted his teeth. So close! His eyes started to close, but he forced them open. To see her aside him in all her glory! He would not miss a moment! Then she moved, back and forth, adjusting her outer, most intimate self to him.
"Yes, yes, that's right, love." His hands gently guided her, and hers balanced on his shoulders.
"You feel so… good, Jareth."
"It is good. How it's supposed to be, Sarah."
She stroked his face and smiled. "I think I understand now."
With a lifting twist of her hips, Sarah shifted his manhood, then reached down and guided him. He allowed it. He didn't help or offer or give advice unless she asked. She was in charge of this. She was his goddess.
Poised at her entrance, he stared into her eyes. "I am at your mercy, Sarah."
"Oh god… I…" She lowered herself, slowly, cautiously. Moving his hands to her torso, Jareth helped support her weight as he accepted him.
"Oh, Danu!" His head spasmed forward, chin to chest, as she enveloped him, surrounding him with her soft, tight, hot moisture.
"Jareth?" She squeaked, face pinched.
"If it hurts…"
"No, yes… I mean…" she shook her head vigorously, "I'm not sure."
"Gently, love, go gently." Using one hand, he easily collected her moisture and circled a finger over her nub.
She gasped, jerked and clawed his shoulders. "Jareth!"
Suddenly she dropped until he'd gained nearly half his length within her, and the urge to thrust nearly overwhelmed him. No! Wait! He continued his ministrations on her sensitive jewel and she began rocking, which eased his way a bit farther.
Tossing his head side to side, he said, "Sarah, please!"
"Oh, yes, Jareth!"
He thrust, hard and deep and she screamed—in pain and pleasure—head thrown back. It ripped his heart in a similar pain/pleasure, but he couldn't stop, not now. Apparently she couldn't either, because she thrashed and rocked in counter time to his plunges. With each thrust, the energy which he'd felt earlier, sparked anew. His skin tingled and his mind buzzed. She followed. She led. He didn't know or care.
Sweat beaded on their skin, shared as they grew frenzied. Faster and faster until a fuzzing around the edges of his vision began.
"J-jareth… I feel … weird…"
"It's alright." He held tighter to her slick hips and guided her to ride him. "Don't stop, love!"
"But… my body…"
He thrust harder.
He had to finish.
Had to finish.
Had to.
Had…
"Sarah!"
"Jareth…" Her glowing eyes met his and in the haze of the building magic some part of him understood too late.
He pulled her down for a kiss, which she returned passionately.
"I love you, Sarah Williams," he whispered as his body, taken over by the ancient magic between Keeper and Nexus, ignited.
Tears brightened her eyes and her face flushed as she continued to enthusiastically ride him. "I love you, Jareth."
The world exploded with light and color.
Jareth and Sarah screamed.
Pain, pleasure, fractures, healing…
Toby shouted for his sister, then leapt from his bed and ran, searching.
The sky turned blue once again.
Jareth opened his eyes.
With a strangled gasp, he sat up, naked, and scrambled from his bed to fall to his knees on a hard wood floor.
His bed.
In his castle.
In his own world.
"Sarah!"
A/N: Well! This scene was a long time coming. Hehe. Coming. So anyhow this isn't over yet, but I've got maybe one or two more chapters, and then that's it! Can you believe it? I've had this chapter in my head for soooo long, but it's taken months and months to finally get to it. I wrote over the last two days. Have been wanting to do so for a while. FYI- Last week I was at the Comicpalooza with a booth to sell my original book 'Dreams of the Queen' AND I was able to get on two author panels. One... OMG, one was with Jacqueline Carey! That's right! THE Jacqueline Carey of the Kushiel Series! She signed my first edition Kushiel's Dart and even accepted one of my books. OMG! You can read more about it on my site www dot jacquelinepatricks dot com or my FB page /jacquelinepatricks I posted pics and everything!
Buffy: woohoo! That's makes me so happy when you get all enthusiastic. So this chapter will probably make you love/hate me. As usual. muahaha! So glad I never disappoint! Though I've gotten busier lately.
Miss Rune: I know right, finally! Thank you!
Gwineveve301: No Toby isn't the magic finder. he just senses Jareth and Sarah's connection. Thanks I hope you enjoyed this last chapter!
The Queen of the Water: Thanks!
auctavia1228: Welcome from adultfanfic! I've had several readers cross back and forth from either site. That one is freer but this one is easier to navigate and has a better messaging system. As for Jareth's suffering. Sorry it's getting to you so much, but I do have a tendency to torture all my characters whether they're OC or Fanfic. GK is no exception. HEHE. But I do tend to lean more towards happy endings. :o) I know I've been slow to update lately, but I always intend to finish all my fics. Thank you so much! Hope the wait was worth the wait!
moira hawthorne: Muahahahaha! I rarely *cough* kill off GK.
Dark Angel Millenia: I hope the fashion show went well! Planning such things can be fun and hectic. Thanks for the congrats! The panels were a blast! Thanks, I've been loving working on originals again. I'm about halfway through converting this (falling) into the original with an entirely new backstory and OCs. I'm hoping for a late 2013 release date. I do love my cliffys, and Jareth's Da is fun to write too I nice plot device.
Lady Augustin: You're welcome and thanks! This one is a nice long chapter with smut! I've always intended on finishing this one and my other fics.
nortega: Woohoo! Thanks! Glad you're enjoying it!
HachimansKitsune: Hey! Sorry I made you cry. Thanks, yeah things are going really well. Selling books every month with a steady increase and Comicpalooza gave me several great contacts. Really excited to see what the future brings. Hope you're doing well!
meatpuppet1: Yeah! I know... I wouldn't let Jareth die like that. :o)
Carrie9586: Thank you very much! So glad you're enjoying it. I'm doing great! Hope you enjoyed this chapter too!
Angelus Draco: Thanks! It is nice to see them reunited.
wondergirl329: Thanks! that's a great compliment! Glad you're enjoying it. I know this is a bit unusual for Laby fanfic. This last chapter is long and smutty!
Autumn O'Shea Swan: Exactly and the perfect set up for the longer chapter. Which I know you enjoyed.
Kypriothe: LOL! God I love enthusiasm! How long did it take you to read through to Ch 28? A few hours or less? Awesome! Glad it's so addictive! It is almost finished. This last chapter is probably one of my faves, along with Ch 13 when Jareth found in bloodlust in the compound. That's was fun to write.
Just wanted to update to let all my fanfic fans know something rather important:
Once I publish Fairytale Apocalypse later this year, I will be giving free copies to all my fanfic fans!
Why? Well, even though it's rewritten, even though it's not the same story as Falling, since I
used the same premise inspired from my fanfic and all my fans have been so supportive, I want
say thank you later this year by giving any fan interested a free Ebook of FA. Stay tuned for more info!
Hope everyone is enjoying so far! We're almost to the end! So close! And for those interested...
I am rewriting this entire story into an original version called "Fairytale Apocalypse". It's halfway done,
and had all new characters and backstory. You can find me on Goodreads under Jacqueline Patricks
EXCERPT OF CHAPTER ONE
FAIRYTALE APOCALYPSE
~Part One~
Chapter One
The blight is spreading faster.
The brown leaf crumbled in his fist. Its dust littered his black leather glove and released its final, crisp pungency before drifting away on the breeze. Kagan Donmall frowned as dry bits scattered. A majority of leaves on the single oak tree had shriveled and browned. And it's only late spring.
Reaching back up, he snapped off the tip of the leaf's previous branch. Already the blight had passed into the wood. How long before the limbs broke from the trunk and exposed it to further disease and vermin? The rest of the forest looked as ravaged as this one tree, and this was far into the Verge, miles from the Bridge leading to the mundane world of mortals.
How has it progressed so quickly?
Of course, quickly was relative for fae since it had taken over a hundred years for the damage to gain this much ground. Still, it shouldn't be moving toward Fae Inlands at all. The Verge's defenses should've repelled it decades ago. Unfortunately, if it invaded the Inlands nothing would be able to stop it, and the heart of his people's world would be laid open to this mysterious poison. He snorted. As if anything had stopped it thus far.
Kagan plucked another dead leaf and twirled it between his fingers. Even through his leather gloves, he should feel a buzz of power for he was the Verge as the Verge was him. But there was nothing. Though it looked normal enough, dead but normal.
Over the years, he'd performed every experiment and spell he could think of to discover the cause or reverse the process, but the only consistent clue was the leaf's complete lack of inherent magic. Fingers of his other hand pressed to his pursed lips as he stared at the dead thing. For it was truly dead in all aspects. Even through an autumn fall, leaves retained traces of magic. But these were blank as if their magic had been erased or sucked out like marrow from a bone.
Shudders raced through Kagan. Imagine! Beasts greater than those who roamed the Verge! Their jaws cracking open the bones of his land to slurp clean its power. A mighty beast, to be sure, would be needed to kill his land circling the Fae Inlands. But he knew of no such creatures, and though dangers aplenty lurked in the Verge, none of his warriors had ever located a physical source of the blight.
So where is the magic going? Or… "Great Danu." He released the leaf to a gust of wind. Why hadn't he thought of it before? All these years… Had he been searching in the wrong direction? Is the source of magic vanishing?
Long ago, before this blight, he'd warned his liege and cousin that mortals might unbalance the power with their increasing life spans and exploration into science. But he hadn't checked on the mortal world within the last decade. To be certain, he needed to visit the Nexus and determine its health. If it was deteriorating, if its attachment to the Bridge was failing…
He clenched his fists. Danu help us!
A chime interrupted his thoughts and Kagan withdrew a small metal disc from his breast pocket, spoke a few words over as he envisioned the required glyphs, then tossed it to the ground. Over it, a life-sized translucent image of a young man wearing Kagan's house colors of black and silver shimmered into existence.
"My Lord Donmall." His aide-de-camp bowed low at the waist.
Shaking out his fists, Kagan turned to his left. "Yes, Brogan?"
His aide-de-camp's image tugged on the cuffs of his long sleeves as he stood. "How soon can you return to the castle, sire?"
"I'm currently in the outer Verge, so if you want me directly I'll have to blink through a portal."
Brogan blanched and his lips thinned. "The damage has spread that far, then?"
"And speeding up it seems," Kagan said, then sighed and glanced left and right as if someone might hear him. "However, I may have finally determined a cause, though I need to investigate further."
"Truly, sire?" Brogan's smile was fleeting, but enough to crease the skin at the corners of his eyes. "In that case, you may want to risk the instability of a portal to deal with awaits you here."
"That bad, is it?"
"Yes, sire," Brogan said, straight-faced and straight-backed to Kagan's heavy sarcasm. "A delegate from the High King has arrived and demands an audience with you."
One dark brow arched, Kagan asked, "Indeed? Did this illustrious personage say why?"
Brogan tugged at his cuffs again. "Ah, no, but I suspect he's here to deliver an ultimatum, sire."
Kagan curled his lips to a scowl while his hands fisted until his gloves creaked. "My own cousin dares to send some lackey to question me?"
"I am uncertain, sire; but he refuses to leave until you speak with him."
"Does he now?" Kagan crossed his arms and thrust a lean leg out. "Well, the bastard can wait all week!"
"Yes, sire." Brogan bowed his head abruptly, his short queue bouncing. "But … he is upsetting the staff."
Kagan huffed and dug his booted toe into the dry, crunching grass. "Hmm… Well, we can't have that. It'll take months to settle my household if he stays over long, and if Cook is perturbed her meals will be off for weeks." Kagan paced a circle, then faced the image of the stock-still Brogan whose arms were braced to his sides. "Very well, I shall return by portal. Keep the bastard distracted until then."
Another grin flashed, then Brogan bowed again, one arm folding over his stomach as he flourished the other out. "Of course, sire. I will keep him well occupied." The image swirled in on itself, then zapped out, returning the area to the desolation of dying browns and fading greens.
Kagan held out his hand, envisioned the glyph for return and said, "Tilleadh." The cylinder jumped into his palm, and he slipped it back into its pocket.
"So much for our getaway, eh, Ravenpen?" Kagan gripped his destrier's saddle, planted a booted foot in a stirrup and swung upwards with one fluid sweep. Keeping his saber, Rinn-Gheur Gaoth, and his cloak clear of his legs was instinctive as he fell into his seat. "And you, Rinn, still silent now that we're going home?" Kagan asked, patting the saber's handle. The usually talkative Rinn said nothing, having gone quiet hours ago as they rode deep into the damaged Verge. "Very well, then."
Meanwhile the large, yet graceful, stallion raised his head and huffed without shifting his stance. Kagan patted his neck, then sorted the reins. "I know, boy. You're as eager as Rinn to leave this death," he said to soft ears flicking back. "I hardly blame either of you. It gets under one's skin and lingers."
Ravenpen snorted and nodded wildly. Kagan chuckled. Ravenpen his most intelligent mount and a trained war horse, but the last significant fae battle had been over two decades ago. Kagan hadn't been able to depend upon fae wars and border disputes to keep Ravenpen in shape as he did in his youth. Ironic given faes' intrinsic, barely controllable bloodlust and tendency to war within their species and with the other Inland races. So investigating the Verge had given Ravenpen an opportunity to exercise, and Kagan a much needed excuse to escape court responsibilities for a few days.
He leaned down to Ravenpen's twitching ear. "Do you suppose His Majesty sent Damin?"
Ravenpen whinnied and shook out his mane with another brisk nod, bridle rattling.
"Blast," Kagan said as he pulled the reins and wheeled Ravenpen to the right. "I know I promised results months ago, but these things take time. How dare MacLir send an errand boy, especially that court-softened bastard."
Ravenpen snorted as he broke into a canter, his bulk absorbing much of the impact. Kagan relaxed his thighs and abdominal muscles, then loosened his lower back and arms as he settled into his mount's comfortable rhythm. He need only give Ravenpen his head—the horse knew the way home—thus freeing Kagan's attention for the portal spell.
Under normal conditions he wouldn't need to use so much concentration to perform any spell, even one as complex as portal creation; however, times were not normal. The wasting effect of this blight had destroyed immense swathes of the Verge. Sometimes within days, its beauty and vibrancy blanched along with its natural magic. Every year spell creation became harder. What used to be as natural as breathing air had become like inhaling water for the fae.
Mentally he reached for his magic, the spell forming in his mind like a child precariously balancing oversized blocks. Eventually glyphs flared to life in his mind's eye, and his hands further relaxed around the reins. As each glyph burned in his mind, he stacked and connected them until they built a bonfire of power. Ravenpen's rolling pace was a metronome, and Kagan fell deeper into the smooth gait as his brain disconnected from his body. He drifted, focused upon the glyphs to the exclusion of all else.
What felt like minutes took only seconds. The spell solidified and power pulsed through him until his body tingled. Atmosphere thinned, opening to the Void, and a portal blinked into existence. Ravenpen trotted toward the wavering in their path, and Kagan—fully conscious of his physical world again—registered the spell's results.
The portal mixed the colors and shapes of the dying trees and grass into a smeared palette of melting browns and sickly greens—just wide and tall enough for a man on horseback. No use wasting energy. Ravenpen nickered and sped up, which reminded Kagan to squeeze the reins or else risk losing all control.
Kagan's easy, lop-sided smile bloomed. "You're far more eager to return home than I am, old man; but then, you don't have to face an idiot."
Home…
Hundreds of years he'd ruled as Lord and Guardian, charged with care of the Verge and the Bridge that linked it to the mortal realm. This blight was the greatest enemy he'd ever faced, magical or corporeal. Eyes on the insubstantial half reality of the portal, instead of the shades of death to his sides, Kagan rode and tried to ignore the throbbing through his chest. How he missed the sparkling splendor of the Verge! Gone were the days of pleasant sun and air, replaced with arid wind, blanching skies and an emaciated loss of lushness. Made it difficult to remember the better times. But now, at last, he might have an idea of why his world was dying.
Prickles caught at the bare skin of his face and neck at they passed the portal's boundary. Despite the distracting insubstantialness, Ravenpen traveled quickly through the portal with sure steps. Kagan held onto his magic with an ironclad, mental grasp. One slip and they would be lost in the Void—victims for the daemons that fed upon fears and nightmares. A reflection of the Verge's source of magic—mortals' hopes and dreams.
Ravenpen's hoof beats clattered on familiar cobblestone, and Kagan jerked at the abrupt change from vertiginous filminess to solid orientations. Releasing the portal spell with a relieved exhale, he shoulders drooped slightly. Magic drained from him like water seeping from an oversaturated sponge. Times past, he'd have hardly felt such exertion. Now his eyelids drifted down, and visions of his bed teased him.
No time for that now. My cousin's lapdog awaits.
Sights, sounds and smells of his castle's courtyard whooshed in—dusty, crumbling masonry and fresh animal dung, raucous voices of servants and warriors, and overly bright sunlight. Already he missed the murky relaxation of the forest's deeps. The courtyard was everything in opposition of Verge, which was subtly and balance even with its unseen protections.
Kagan's hand crept to Rinn's hand as Ravenpen trotted towards the stables. If the Verge collapsed, those protections would be the most painful loss. For those who did not belong, or threatened the Verge, did not survive long. But with the strongest magics failing, an open wound gaped. Who knew what might happen? To any of them.
My cousin understands this danger as well as I. He shifted in the saddle as Ravenpen trotted to a halt and a page ran forward. But to send him. Must he insult me?
"My Lord!" The page grabbed Ravenpen's bridle. "Thank Danu, you're here!"
"Yes, I've heard there's a bit of trouble."
"Yes, sire."
"Is it Damin?"
"I believe so, sire," the page said and ducked his head as he held Ravenpen steady. "I did not see the Lord McCour, sire, but heard him."
"I suspected as much." Kagan scowled as he dismounted, then handed the reins over. Ravenpen was led off without delay, and the page gave Kagan look of grateful relief. With a growl, Kagan pulled his gloves on tighter, tugged his black and silver threaded brocade doublet down, adjusted Rinn-Gheur Gaoithe on his hip, and then straightened his cloak on his shoulders before striding across the courtyard and up the broad stone stairs. If Damin had terrorized his entire staff…
The worthless cur!
"Sire!" The two guards at the main entrance bowed their heads and struck their gauntleted fists to their breastplates. Metal rang upon metal and echoed throughout the courtyard.
With a wave of his hand, a whisper and a quick glyph, Kagan unlocked the majestic double doors of brass. They swung inwards with a groan. Sunlight glinted off the runes of protection and defense cast into their surfaces and polished to a high sheen. Today, however, the glittering symbols brought Kagan no comfort, and his eyes did not linger on them.
Hard-soled boots clapping on the marble floor, Kagan kept a swift pace until his cloak billowed in his wake like an inky, twisting cloud. Servants scattered, murmuring. Ahead of him, another set of double doors burst open into his receiving room. "Damin!"
A tall, red-headed man in royal blue and black turned. "Ah, my Lord Donmall, your timing is impeccable, as usual." With a pewter tankard in hand, Damin gestured toward a table laden with dozens of delicacies. "I've just been enjoying your hospitality. Your staff is most accommodating."
"I've heard." Kagan swept his arms to the small of his back, bunching his cape, and walked slowly towards the dais. Eyes narrowed, Kagan avoided staring too long at his old rival lest his emotions rise too much.
As he passed, Damin cocked his head. "You don't look pleased to see me."
"Should I be?"
Damin drank long and deep, then set his tankard down. Dusting his hands, he said, "His Majesty, the High King, has been most eager to receive your report."
"So he sends you rather than contacting me by private missive?"
Damin feigned a placating gesture with both hands open and ducked his head. "I am but my king's loyal servant." Kagan glared over his shoulder. Damin continued, "And magic is so … precious these days. Isn't that so?"
"Indeed." Fingers twitching behind his back, Kagan turned and stared at Damin.
"By the by," Damin sauntered closer and smirked, "Lady McCour sends her regards."
Kagan withheld a sharp response, even as bloodlust rose and his simmering anger became a seething morass of nausea. How easily Damin pricked his fae nature! Kagan fought down red images of Damin lying dismembered and disemboweled in his dungeon. How lovely his entrails would look strung upon the walls! A festive garland to celebrate Samhain early this year!
Kagan said though a clenched jaw as he moved into Damin's personal space, "You may report to my cousin that my ongoing investigation is yielding results."
The other fae blinked and moved back. Lips tightening, fuil miann comharraich appeared over Damin's face and his right hand flinched for his saber—Gruamach Fuil—which glowed silver.
"Ah, ah!" Kagan pointed to Damin's dominate hand. "A duel then? Finally?"
Damin's hand spasmed, then relaxed to his side. His facial bloodlust markings and Grumach's glow vanished. "You think provoking me will sit well with His Majesty?"
Kagan leaned in and whispered, "As soon as Danu wills it, I'll cut your heart out."
Damin braced. "I am under the High King's protection. You cannot touch me."
"Shall we test that?"
"The High King demands your results!"
The tense moment expanded. Kagan placed his hand on Rinn's pommel and his saber shivered and woke, pulsing a bright blue in time with Kagan's emotions. The familiar constriction and burning of his face began as his own fuil miann comharraich appeared. "I will send them to my cousin directly, not through a lapdog emissary."
"How da-" Damin lunged.
"You are dismissed," Kagan said, pivoting in a swirl of black cloth and Damin's sputtering to walk to his small dais. "Do not return on pain of death."
"You'll regret this insult, Kagan!"
His back to Damin, Kagan shouted, "Get out, Damin, before I truly lose my temper!"
Damin growled something unflattering, but soon his boot falls faded.
Finally, though I'm sure to hear from MacLir about this.
Shoulders slumping, Kagan walked to the banquet table and rested his hands on the laden surface, elbows rigid, fingers furrowing the tablecloth. He panted and searched for calm. Nausea dogged him as his bloodlust lingered. It unburied his past. What must he suffer when no other fae did?
None of the delicacies tempted him. The aromas twisted his appetite against him. In a flash, his rage peaked, and he swept part of the table clear. Platters crashed to the marble floor, and food smeared over the intricate inlays. The abstract organic splatterings … they should've been Damin's crushed skull.
Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed and please review!
Jinx
