CHAPTER ELEVEN

 

 

“This isn’t the best time for you to be here,” Joss said, his frown reflected in the three other faces lined up like a firing squad alongside him.

I didn’t like the way they were staring at me, like I was a juicy bug and they were ravenous spiders. I glared right back, hoping they couldn’t read the fear in my eyes.

“The way I see it, there’s never going to be a good time for me to be here. But I’m here now and I’m not leaving ’til I have answers.”

My attempt to appear undaunted must’ve worked, for the only girl among them smiled. “Don’t mind Joss. He takes his duties very seriously.”

“Must be that warrior geis thing I’ve heard about.”

Joss stiffened, obviously affronted I’d dare make light of it. Before he could speak, the smallest of the trio stepped forward, a young guy with curly dark hair and twinkling brown eyes. “Joss is right, this isn’t the safest time for your introduction to Eiros, but we’re glad to finally meet you.” He held up his hand, fingers and thumb spread wide. “I’m Mack.”

The girl leaned forward, her whisper loud enough for everyone to hear. “He’s the boss, being a direct descendant of Bel and all, but don’t let his whole ‘son of a king’ routine fool you. He’s really a pushover.”

Mack smiled, a genuine “I’m happy to meet you” smile that eased some of my tension.

“I’m Maeve, by the way.” She pointed at Mack’s upright hand. “That’s our greeting. You’re supposed to place your palm flat against his, fingers and thumb spread to symbolize the sun’s rays.”

“Oh, right,” I said, embarrassed I’d already made my first mistake. Not that I could’ve had a clue about their greeting. I had a feeling it would be the first of many things I’d learn here. I raised my hand and tried not to slap it against Mack’s in a mistaken high-five. There was something strangely intimate about our splayed hands pressed together, in much more than a brief handshake, and I was grateful when he dropped his hand.

“And Mr. Happy over here is Oscar.”

I bit back a smile at Maeve’s apt irony. The guy with the short wavy chestnut hair and hazel eyes could’ve been cute, if he lost the scowl.

“Hey,” he said, raising his hand in a laconic wave that confused the hell out of me, as I thought it was another sun greeting and lifted my hand only to find it hovering embarrassingly in mid-air when he quickly lowered his.

“The Sorority is pleased to welcome you. Come.” Mack looked like a laid-back sprite, but a hint of steel underlined his voice, making it a definite command and not a request.

They surrounded me like four compass points: Joss on my right, Mack leading, Maeve on my left, and Oscar behind me. I didn’t like the grouchy one having my back.

As we moved toward the dilapidated houses, I felt like a million pairs of unseen eyes were trained on me, assessing, finding me lacking as their Scion.

Would they inspect the tall blonde in the skinny jeans and black hoodie and scream fraud? Would their judgmental expectations fall flat the moment I botched my first ceremony or initiation or whatever other freaky event I’d have to attend to prove my worth? Would they see through me and sneer at my deep-seated fears that I’d never be good enough, that I’d fail spectacularly at the tasks I’d need to master and be responsible for an apocalypse?

That was my greatest fear: that if I was this so-called Scion, I was nowhere near ready for the responsibility. In trying to prove myself, I could lose more than my limited self-esteem.

I’d end up losing the world.

“She’ll be safer inside,” Joss said, halting outside a whitewashed cottage with black-trimmed wooden windows and a terracotta roof.

It was like something out of the Hansel and Gretel fairytale I’d loved as a kid. Nan used to read it to me and make killer gingerbread afterward …

A pang of longing, so sharp, so painful, sliced through me, and I winced.

“Holly’s had a rough trip. She needs to rest.”

I could’ve hugged Joss for his intuition. His mouth quirked at the corners. Why did he have to read my mind for that stuff?

Nobody spoke, all deferring to Mack. I could barely see two feet in front of myself; shadows from the surrounding trees blanketed everything. As Mack turned toward me, his solemn expression sent a quiver of foreboding through me.

“There are others you need to meet. I’d prefer we toured the community before we confer privately. Is this agreeable to you?”

Once again, I had the impression this was a command, so I glanced at Joss for guidance. Far from happy, his lips compressed into a thin line as he exchanged frowns with Oscar. I barely knew these people, but even I could sense the strong undercurrent of tension running among them.

“Give us five minutes. She needs a drink, at least.”

Joss squared his broad shoulders as if daring Mack to argue. After a tense moment, the leader nodded. “We’ll wait here. Don’t be long.”

I managed a sarcastic smile of thanks, and followed Joss into the cottage, not having much time to notice my surroundings as he whisked me through a small lounge and into a kitchen.

“What—”

“Are you okay?”

He stopped so abruptly I slammed into him, and he steadied me, his hands spanning my waist. A delicious thrill shot through me at his protectiveness. I was used to taking care of myself, and while it was nice having Nan dote on me occasionally, having Joss fuss made me feel cherished in a way I never had before.

“I’m fine.”

A tiny crease appeared between his brows, not detracting from his gorgeousness one bit. “You didn’t look it back there.”

“Overwhelmed, I guess.”

To my mortification, my voice wobbled. His grip on my hips tightened, as if he could hold on tight enough to anchor me and stop the events swirling beyond my control.

“It’s a lot to take in—”

“I can handle it.”

“Good, because it only gets tougher from here.”

“I figured.”

As his grasp eased, I became acutely aware of how close we were and how his hands felt pressed against my hips. Solid and warm, his fingers splayed and dipped below my waist, an inch away from sliding between the gap of my T-shirt and jeans and encountering bare skin.

My pulse skittered as I wondered what it would feel like to have his hands on me. Would his touch be soft and gentle, or hard and commanding? Or an intriguing combination of both, a combination that encapsulated my warrior?

Ridiculous, as the only reason he had his hands on me was to steady me after I’d almost bowled him over, but as I chanced a glance at his face and our eyes locked, it was like I’d been electrocuted. I’d never had a guy regard me like that before: a heady mix of brazen, confused need mingled with overprotectiveness. The longer I stared into those intense blue eyes, the easier it was to believe a guy like Joss could want more than to protect a girl like me.

When it seemed like we’d been staring at each other forever, Joss blinked and his expression hardened. “Our time’s up.”

He scowled and released me so quickly I stumbled, but this time he didn’t touch me. He’d already headed for the sink where he was busy filling a glass of water, leaving me convinced I’d imagined that whole tension-filled episode a moment ago. “Here, drink this, then we have to go.”

“Yes, sir.”

My mock salute elicited a glower as I downed the water and handed him the glass. My admiration raised another notch when he rinsed it and propped it on the sink sideboard to dry. “Is this your place?”

His shuttered expression and quick shake of the head didn’t invite further questions, which only served to raise my curiosity. “Safe house.”

“And you need a safe house because … ?”

“You’ll find out,” he murmured, a moment before the door flung open and Oscar loomed, grouchier than ever.

“Ready?”

Joss nodded. I huffed, hating all the secrecy.

When we appeared, they took compass positions around me again, and Mack said, “Come, we will begin.”

His formal speech patterns seemed incongruous for a guy his age. Then again, what did I know? The guy was royalty—and if I had my jumbled thoughts straight, probably some kind of distant family, with Bel being our common link.

Feeling increasingly uncomfortable with their treating me like the president needing Special Services protection, I fell into step, my head craning every which way as I got my first real look at Eiros.

For some crazy Innerworld inhabited by bad guys, the place appeared surprisingly cool. Like someone had scooped up Central Park and dumped it at the edge of suburbia. We were surrounded by lovely greenery and eclectic houses. But in contrast to the real park, if I squinted, I could make out grimy apartment buildings that thinned out as high-rises gave way to squat, ugly housing.

Most of the houses looked like they’d been slapped together by kiddie carpenters, though some had been carefully constructed from large, rectangular stone blocks the same charcoal color as the spooky archways back at school. A few had garish white roofs, dotting the landscape like tufts of cotton. The distant lights of New York City cast an eerie glow along the horizon, highlighting a hulking stone monstrosity that covered a hill as far as I could see, like a bizarre mix of urban grunge and jolly old England.

This old-world stuff didn’t do it for me, and along with their formal way of speaking I was beginning to wonder if I’d done more than just teleported. “Have I time traveled?”

Oscar shot me an incredulous glare. “What do you think this is, a novel?”

A nervous frown creased Maeve’s brow as she glanced at Oscar, then at me. “No time travel involved. It’d be so much easier if you could … ” She trailed off and this time they all frowned at her. “What?” Defiant, she ignored them and focused on me. “If you could travel back you could meet Bel, discover the exact whereabouts of Arwen, and Cadifor wouldn’t be a problem anymore.”

“Good point.”

“Do you know anything about Eiros?” Oscar asked.

Ignoring his audible derision, I nodded. “A little. Though I’d know more if you spent less time giving me attitude and more time treating me like I had half a brain.”

Oscar snorted and Maeve chuckled. “Don’t mind him; he hasn’t had his rowan-berries fix today.”

I raised an eyebrow, increasingly clueless and hating the feeling. Guess my high IQ meant jack in this place.

“Fruit of the quicken trees, what you probably know as ash trees. The berries are sacred, said to hold a magic for eternal youth.”

Oscar snarled. “Quit babbling. She needs to know more important stuff than that.”

Maeve smirked and poked her tongue out. “Like how you’re a warrior but haven’t guarded anything since you were out of diapers?”

I stiffened, caught in the crossfire as animosity rolled off Oscar in palpable waves. But before he could respond, Mack held up a hand. “Holly needs to meet Dyfan.”

Whoever this Dyfan dude was, he held enough power to shut the squabbling duo up. Mack led us up a garden path bordered by herbs and knocked at a wooden door inlaid with a weird symbol of five overlapping circles.

Joss caught me staring and reached out to trace the symbol with a fingertip. “The five-fold represents balance. The four outer circles symbolize the four elements: earth, air, fire, water. While this one—” His finger lingered on the inner circle, as if reluctant to break contact. “—unites all the elements to reach perfect balance between energies.”

“Who’s Dyfan? And why is this symbol on his door?” And why were they taking me on some grand tour when I wanted to ask questions?

Before anyone could answer me, the door swung open to reveal an older guy with long hair, a goatee, and some serious fashion issues, judging by his funky white PJs. They looked like pajamas, but on closer inspection resembled a long tunic and flowing trousers.

“Welcome, children. Come in.”

As Mack led the way into the small cottage with a brief nod in Dyfan’s direction while the others barely acknowledged him, I had an instant glimpse into the group dynamics.

Dyfan deliberately spoke down to Mack. Baiting him? Mack had to be in his mid-twenties, so lumping him in with the rest of us was a slap in the face. What I wanted to know was why.

“Dyfan is our philosopher-cum-head-priest.” Mack wandered over to an overflowing bookcase and trailed his hand over the leather spines. “He presides over our rites at the Temple of Grian, the sun temple.”

The philosopher stiffened at Mack’s offhand tone, confirming my earlier suspicion. No love lost between those two.

“What our illustrious leader failed to mention is that I’m also his chief advisor.” Dyfan’s fake smile grated as he turned his attention to me.

“That’s not your primary role, though, is it?”

“We call him our jack of all trades, don’t we, Dyf?” In what I was fast recognizing as typical Maeve fashion, the bubbly redhead diffused the situation.

“You’re too kind, Maeve.” Dyfan nodded at her. “But I’m sure our guest has questions she’d like to ask.”

Where to start? “What does a philosopher do?”

Oscar snickered as I belatedly realized the smartass response would be philosophizing.

Thankfully, Dyfan didn’t mock me. “Please, sit. Then we’ll talk. Drink?”

“Some rowan-berry juice might kick-start proceedings,” I said, my nerves making me blab the first inane thing that popped into my head.

Mack grinned, Maeve chortled, and Joss shook his head, but the corners of his mouth twitched. Even Oscar the grouch managed a semi-smile.

Dyfan peered around the room, confused, which only served to widen Mack’s grin.

Mack indicated we should sit around the table. “A Sorority joke. You know how it is.”

Judging by the frown creasing Dyfan’s brow, he didn’t, and that pissed him off royally.

While Dyfan placed a tray of wooden goblets on the table, we sat. The guys perched on the edges of their seats, too big for the small round table. Maeve and I squeezed onto a bench for two.

“The Druids of Eiros are divided into three orders: The druidh, the filidh, and the baird.” Tapping his chest, Dyfan puffed up with pride. “I’m a druidh. We’re the teachers, philosophers, physicians, high priests of our community.”

“Impressive,” I said, gaining a beaming smile for my trouble. Oscar covered a snicker with a fake sneeze.

Ignoring Oscar, Dyfan swept his arms wide in a theatrical flourish. “We mediate disputes, try cases, and set penalties for criminal acts—”

“Dyfan’s main role is to provide guidance to those who want it,” Mack interrupted, sounding like the last person who’d seek out the druidh for advice.

Bowing his head in Mack’s direction, Dyfan continued. “It is the druidh’s place in the Innerworld to provide assistance to the reigning deity.” He paused, his grin oily. “Particularly when that deity is so young.”

And inexperienced. He didn’t have to say it; his condescending tone was enough to make Mack bristle.

“Tell me about the others you mentioned.”

Dyfan slipped into haughty teacher mode easily. “Filidh are seers, soothsayers, gifted in divination.”

When I frowned in confusion, Mack said, “They predict the future.”

How convenient. Wish they could predict mine. Like whether I’d be any good at searching for Arwen. Whether I’d find my mom. Whether I’d get the answers I craved. And most of all, whether I’d survive this outlandish quest.

“The baird are poets and singers.” He pronounced it like they cleaned toilets, and I waited for one of the Sorority to interject.

They didn’t disappoint. “What our illustrious druidh has failed to mention is the baird are also known for their wisdom, often beyond that of other druid orders.” Oscar tempered his snide explanation with a patronizing smile, taunting Dyfan to respond.

I didn’t understand the politics of this place, but it didn’t take a genius to figure out the group dynamics here sucked. If no one respected the chief advisor, where did that leave the community?

“But I’m sure the real reason the Sorority brought you to me tonight is to discuss the tasks you must master.”

“Get on with it,” Oscar muttered.

Dyfan held up his hand, fingers and thumb extended. “Firstly, you must master the art of traveling between worlds.”

Mack winked at me. “Safe to say she’s blitzed that one, considering she’s here.”

I shot him a grateful smile, thinking if only he knew. I hadn’t mastered anything yet, fluking my latest teleporting effort courtesy of a nameless crystal.

Dyfan pushed down his index finger. “Next, you must gain control over your clairsentience and use your visions to follow your gut.”

Easy for him to say. Right then my gut wanted to rehash the last meal I’d eaten, which was too long ago.

His third finger flexed. “Become proficient at scrying.” He pushed down his fourth finger. “You must face and banish one of the Underworld’s lesser creatures.”

Maeve patted my hand and murmured, “Banshees aren’t so bad.”

Easy for Little Miss Optimism to say.

Dyfan lowered his pinkie. “And lastly, you must become one with the Arwen Triple Flame to use it.”

Once again, I had no idea what that meant. I nodded, relieved when Mack stood and beckoned the rest of us to follow suit. “Thanks for the enlightening chat, Dyfan. Holly has a lot of ground to cover tonight, so we’ll take it from here.”

“Thanks,” I echoed, not surprised when the others merely grunted.

“My pleasure.” Dyfan’s quaint little bow made me want to giggle despite the churning in my stomach. “Remember, you need to master all tasks to stand any chance of facing Cadifor.” His mention of my adversary made the blood drain from my face. “I’m happy to assist you in whatever capacity you need.”

Joss touched my arm. Leaning down on the pretext of unlatching the door, he whispered in my ear, “You’ll be fine.”

I managed a brief nod, clamping down on the sudden urge to bawl. And trying to ignore how darn wonderful his warm breath felt against the sensitive skin behind my ear.

When he made to move away, I snagged his arm. “You know that mind-reading thing? Can you do it all the time?”

His lips curved into a smile that made me forget who I was, why I was here, and what any of this meant. “Why? Worried?”

“’Course not. Just curious.”

“Bull,” he said, the spark in his eyes alerting me to the fact I wouldn’t like his answer, but would be powerless to do anything about it.

He was hot, and having him here, near me, made this whole crappy thing bearable.

He gently tapped the side of my temple. “Let me see. I’m getting a read right now that you’re more than curious. You’re downright petrified I can read every single one of your thoughts.”

“Don’t be a dick,” I said, holding my breath when his finger stopped tapping my temple and slowly traced an invisible line down my cheek, lingering on my jaw before fading away.

Bending down, he whispered in my ear, “You also think this geis thing binding us isn’t half bad.”

“Screw you,” I said, without a hint of malice, my voice embarrassingly shaky as his breath tickled my ear again.

“Relax. Because we’re new at this, getting a read on your thoughts is like tuning into a shoddy radio. Intermittent and shaky at best.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, you’re off the hook.” He touched me behind the ear where his breath had fanned me a moment ago—a brief, barely-there brush of his fingertips that short-circuited my brain and fired tingles through my body.

“For now.”

We stared at each other for a long, drawn-out moment, a moment that signaled I could fall a little bit in love with my warrior if I wasn’t careful.

I opened my mouth to say something, a smartass comment to shake me out of the stupor he created simply by looking at me, but he studied my lips before slowly, tantalizingly sweeping back to meet my eyes, and I almost melted on the spot.

“Don’t say anything.”

He pressed a finger against my mouth, and I clamped my lips shut before doing something incredibly out of character.

Staring into my eyes, he murmured, “I get it.”

I was glad someone did, because at that moment, with my heart hammering and bucking like a wild thing, my skin prickling with hyperawareness and my soul yearning for a little romance, I didn’t get a freaking thing.

“You’re scared. But you can do this.”

Oh. He’d misread my held breath and wide eyes as fear of what I faced. Disappointment filtered through me, for during that one, long, heart-stopping moment when we’d connected, I thought he actually got it, that I was fast developing a crush on my reluctant warrior.

Before I could say anything, he swung open the door, stony expression back in place as the others joined us. I slipped into my position as compass center, far from ready to face my next foray into life at Eiros.

“That went well,” Maeve chirped, her constant optimism a tad annoying.

“As well as can be expected.” Mack shrugged.

“Dyfan can be unpredictable,” Oscar said, glancing over his shoulder as if he expected the philosopher to come swooping down any second. “And unpredictability is dangerous.”

“We don’t trust him,” Maeve added, her expression surprisingly solemn. “He’s tried to use his role as Mack’s advisor to twist things to suit himself.”

Mack nodded. “Dyfan is irrelevant in your quest, but when you start formal lessons here, he’ll be one of your teachers, so it’s best you’re aware of his hidden agendas.”

I focused on one thing. “Formal lessons?”

My voice came out an embarrassing squeak and Mack eased into a grin. “There is so much you need to know, so much you need to learn to help you on your quest, and here is the best place for that.”

“But what about C.U.L.T.?”

“You’ll need to split your time, weekdays there, weekends here. Combine theoretical and practical lessons across both worlds.” Mack shrugged, as if my new seven-day schedule meant little. “You need to immerse yourself in your new culture if we’re to succeed.”

Oh, he was good, honing in on my feeling isolated, including me in their group, using we to show I was part of them. All very well, but I barely knew these people, and I was expected to trust them with my life.

Joss touched my hand. “You have to do this.” My hand burned where his skin touched mine, a scorching heat that comforted. “Don’t worry. You’ll never be alone.”

I don’t know what freaked me out the most: the fact I’d be studying 24/7, the fact my life wasn’t my own anymore, or the fact I liked Joss’s touch way too much to be good for me. Accepting he could read my mind was freaky enough; crushing on him was beyond crazy.

Needing to string coherent words together, I faced Mack. “Do I get a say in any of this?”

“A feisty one,” Oscar muttered, his grudging respect a surprise.

Mack shot him a quick frown before focusing on me. “You’re overwhelmed. We understand. But time is running out and we need to get you up to speed as soon as possible.”

I froze. “What do you mean, running out?”

He pointed upwards. “You’ve seen the sky?”

I nodded, some of what Joss had told me and the Arwen text I’d read coalescing.

“That permanent grayness is a sign that Cadifor is gaining strength.” Mack’s low voice sent a ripple of unease through the group, who stepped closer to me as one. “If Cadifor’s confidence is increasing, he’s getting closer to finding Arwen. And if that happens … ”

He didn’t need to spell it out. Even I knew the consequences if the lord of darkness ascended to power again.

Guess I didn’t have a choice, and glancing around at the motley faces surrounding me—Mack skeptical, Oscar resentful, Maeve hopeful, and Joss stoic—I knew what I had to do.

“When do I start?”