To Wed The Goblin King (The Realm Trilogy Book 2) Page 12

The sound that came out made all the hair on Brennan’s neck stand up. It was not a wail, but nor was it any song he’d ever heard—fae, dwarf, or otherwise. She leaned her head back and sang some more.

  Iris stopped, watching the woman, with the same smile on her face.

  The singing stopped.

  “Are you ready?” The woman asked Iris, her voice both warm and distant all at once.

  Iris nodded. “I am.”

  “Then let us go, child. You are not the only one I must see home tonight.”

  Like the child she’d been called, Iris took the hand of the woman in red, and they walked on. Together. Away from him.

  “Where are you going? Iris! Iris!” He called her name over and over, but she didn’t turn back.

  The woman in red did once more, and Brennan fell back at the sorrow and pity he saw in her beautiful, cold face.

  Then both women disappeared. He closed his eyes, hoping that when he opened them, he’d see Iris and no one else.

  Brennan blinked, heart pounding. What had startled him so? He listened to the night.

  Nothing.

  The castle lay quiet in the night. At least as quiet as castles could be.

  Was it a dream?

  Fae, as a rule, didn’t dream. Drake talked about dreaming when he first came to the Fae Realm, and Jharak explained that while humans dream, fae generally do not. Brennan remembered the conversation all these years later because, as he listened to Drake and his father talk, he experienced jealousy so strong it made him want to cry.

  To go to a land at night where anything was possible, where one did not live by the constraints of a society not given to forgiveness or allowance for those who were different.

  That was when Brennan had felt different in every way from the rest of the fae, when he was sure he was some sort of anomaly and dreaming sounded wonderful.

  None of this solved his question.

  He lay back in bed, staring into the darkness, trying to recall what he’d seen prior to waking up. Fae didn’t dream, Jharak had said, because they already existed in a world where much was possible, where things seemed fantastic and limitless by human standards, and that in his opinion, the human idea of dreaming was a longing for the realm of the fae.

  He sent his thoughts out across the castle, testing to see if something was amiss, or someone was in the sort of distress that would catch his attention like this. He felt nothing. The castle felt at peace.

  Was it the news Drake had brought? As he thought over the conversation with his brother earlier, he felt the same unease and worry he’d felt then, but nothing that would jolt him awake like this. The realization of the depth of plotting against him by his bro—Cian, and Ailla?

  The thought of his former fiancée felt as though a cold hand reached through him. He knew—knew! That she meant him harm.

  Ailla had not wanted him, but the fact that he seemed more interested in a human than in her had made her furious, and Brennan feared for Iris. It was one more reason—a reason that he didn’t share with anyone other than Drake—that he allowed her to stay in the Human Realm with a minimum of fuss. Even though he really wanted her here, with him. But that might put her in greater danger.

  By the time Jharak had negotiated the betrothal with Ailla’s father, Brennan had not had any sort of connection with a woman for quite some time. He found it tiresome, always being concerned about keeping a distance between himself and a lover and breaking things off the moment it looked as though that distance might be breached. He didn’t want to fall in love, to give his heart to anyone. If he had, he’d been worried that he would harm them, maybe even kill them. Better to keep them a safe distance, and keep everyone, including himself, safe.

  He also knew he’d never love Ailla. She’d seemed to accept that at the time.

  But Iris—she made his very blood sing. The thought of being alone with her, touching her, undressing her slowly, knowing that her sun-kissed skin would be seen by no one other than him for all time—it was hard to keep his distance.

  It didn’t help that he knew Iris wanted him in the same way.

  Brennan had not told her of what happened when you made love to the one of your heart. He knew the longer he waited, the more unfair it was to her, but he didn’t want to hear from her that she felt differently from him. Even though he knew she didn’t.

  It was a new—

  His heart raced again. He knew what had woken him.

  The Eidolan. That’s what he’d seen. How long he half sat up in bed, he didn’t know.

  His mind tried to wrap itself around the vision—for he knew now that it was no dream, but a vision—he’d seen.

  It couldn’t be. No. Iris was part fae. Granted, she was more human than fae, but her fae side had great strength and power.

  How could she be marked by the Eidolan? The Eidolan only appeared to fae when someone was going to die. As the harbinger of death, she served as a warning. Normally, you didn’t get warning when you were about to die. But in all the old tales, the Eidolan would appear to those around you if your death was imminent and important.

  He shook his head, trying to clear it.

  It wasn’t possible.

  Each time he tried to see the vision in a different fashion, however, all he saw was the visage of the Eidolan holding its thin, bony hand to Iris, and smiling that smile that seemed more teeth than anything else, in spite of her apparent beauty.

  The Eidolan was female, as he’d always heard. But what a female—he shuddered remembering the cold expression on her face, and the depths of her cold, cold eyes.

  It wasn’t possible. It couldn’t be. He’d waited nearly seven hundred years for her.

  Was this the consequence of loving a human? Of choosing a mate that had such a low chance of survival. Most of the humans didn’t survive in Fae. He’d seen the look of pity on his mother’s face when he informed her that Iris was to be his bride. Swiftly hidden, but it had been there.

  It wasn’t possible. It couldn’t be.

  He closed his eyes, replaying the vision once more. He heard the door to his bedchamber open and even with eyes closed, he could tell there was light in the room. Drake stood over him with a candle, staring at him. He jumped in surprise, hitting his head on the headboard of the bed.

  “What are you doing here?” He tried to keep the snarl from his tone.

  “I couldn’t eat with you shouting. What’s going on, Brennan?”

  He didn’t remember shouting, but he must have, as Iris had walked away hand in hand with the Eidolan. He’d seen the Eidolan. She had marked Iris. Marked Iris! What would he do now? How could he tell her? He thought back to the old tales again. Was there ever a story of someone who had been seen with the Eidolan that didn’t die? Not that he could recall in the moment. Once you were marked by the Eidolan, you were marked.

  Marked for death.

  ***

  “You can’t be sure,” Drake said from the chair on the other side of the room.

  “I know what I saw. It matches all the descriptions we’ve found. It was the Eidolan.”

  “I don’t understand. Iris is safe in the Human Realm. You’ve only just found her. Why would the fates mark her for death?”

  Brennan shrugged, trying to shake off the feeling that seeing her—it—had brought forward. The Eidolan only appeared to those who were close to the person about to die. He’d always wanted to ask his parents if they’d seen her before Cian died, but had never had the nerve. Now he knew they hadn’t seen a thing. He had nothing other than his nanny’s nursery tales to go on.

  The Eidolan was reputed to be female, and from what he remembered of the dream, it had been a woman. She had long red-brown hair, and her face and arms were very pale. Her hair was messy and hid her face. He had a sense of a lovely woman, but hadn’t fully seen her face. Brennan didn’t want to think about what her face might look like when the sight of her in a dream scared him in a way he’d never been scared before.

  The calm ac
ceptance Iris showed in being led away by the Eidolan scared him most of all. Everything he’d ever heard of the thing meant that the person being taken would die. How could she die? Drake was right, he’d only just found her. After nearly seven hundred years with no one that he loved better than Drake, he couldn’t lose her this quickly.

  He couldn’t lose her at all. But he had never heard of anyone or anything that would defeat the appearance of the Eidolan.

  “Maybe you’re turning into an old man,” Drake offered. “Dreaming about this doesn’t make it so. There has to be times when it’s only a dream,” he said.

  “Not sure that you’re helping,” Brennan growled.

  “Well, sitting and moaning about it isn’t going to help a thing,” Drake responded quickly. “Unless that’s our new policy for dealing with things?” His brows went up.

  “Oh, shut up,” Brennan wished he’d go away.

  “Well, grandfather? What do you want to do?”

  “How should I know? I only just woke, and I’m not the Aumahnee Seer.”

  Drake laughed out loud. “Ah, there you are, your lordship,” he gave a mocking bow. “For a moment I feared we’d lost you. You don’t need to be the all-knowing Seer. All you need to do is figure out how to keep Iris from dying.”

  Brennan threw back his bedclothes. There was no sense in trying to go back to sleep at this point. He sat up, running his hands through his hair. “I rather thought that was what I was doing. Pray tell, great lord and warrior, where am I doing things wrong?”

  Drake laughed again. “Are you sure you want to ask me such things? I’ve only been waiting…oh, six hundred years for you to let me speak.”

  “Shut up,” Brennan said once more. “Go find me a mug of something warm, and let’s get Taranath into this. You and I are skilled, but this seems like it would fall more into his line of knowledge.”

  “’Course, your lordship,” Drake bowed, and left the room.

  Brennan stretched, not feeling rested at all. He felt as though he’d not slept for ages, and this hadn’t done a thing to make his situation any better.

  How in the name of the stars would he keep her safe? Once the Eidolan made an appearance, in lore, the person was given up for dead.

  He sighed, and began to dress. Might as well ask his parents about this too, in addition to all the uncomfortable topics he needed to address. He also needed to keep Drake from flying off the handle at them. As much as Drake loved them, he was furious at the deception they’d practiced on Brennan for all these years. His parents refusing to be truly repentant didn’t help.

  “You would think that these family members would keep in mind that I have a kingdom on the edge of going to pieces,” he muttered to himself.

  “Well, you’ve had it pretty soft for a long time. ‘Bout time you had a little bit of a challenge. You’re getting fat and lazy,” Drake had come back in, mug in hand.

  Brennan wondered for the umpteenth time what skill Drake had in his human life that had allowed him to become even stealthier than a natural born fae. He took the mug without comment and drank deeply. Drake had brought him mulled wine, his favorite when he woke. He smiled his thanks at his brother, and finished getting dressed.

  Chapter Nine

  Iris

  Dad glared right back at me. “What do you mean? I can do whatever I please, young lady. I am your father, and whether you like it or not, I might have a little more experience at life!”

  Mom laid a warning hand on his arm. His gaze flew to her, and he shut his mouth abruptly.

  “I want to know why you have been encouraging Heath,” I slid into a chair, not breaking eye contact. “It’s not fair, and it’s mean. I am not going to go out with him. I don’t even have those feelings for him anymore. You’re being a jerk, in addition to a lot of other things, if you’re giving him any hope at all.”

  Clearly, Dad hadn’t expected me to be so direct or so calm, probably because he was being a shit and given to all sorts of angry outbursts. Who was the adult here? I thought snidely. He opened his mouth again, and then took a breath. Maybe looking for the right words? I hoped so. I didn’t like fighting with him.

  “How can you be sure, Iris?” I could hear the pleading in his voice. “You’re so young, and you haven’t really had a real relationship. This Brennan, he’s a lot older,” He glared as Mara snorted.

  She kept her eyes on her water glass, so he continued.

  “What do we really know about him? What do you really know about his world? Do you know that he really loves you? What—”

  “You do have someone who knows that world,” I interjected.

  Mara glanced up then. “Oh, no, you’re not dragging me into this.”

  “Oh, yes I am. You want to be a grandma? This is part of it, Mara. Being part of a family, even when it gets messy. I know that’s not your strong point, cutting people out being a lot easier, but this is part of being in a family. Sometimes, it sucks and it’s messy. So spill.”

  She gave what I called the Mara hell no glare, and I did my best to return it. It was hard for me because I could see my mom with her hand over her mouth across the table. I thought she hid a smile.

  Mara exhaled. “Fine. Just…just fine!” She looked around the table and threw up her hands. “It doesn’t matter that I’ve made a vow not to go back, or that I don’t want to be part of that world anymore, but fine! Drag me back in!”

  I glared. How convenient that she’d forgotten our conversation at dinner.

  Mom reached across the table with her free hand. “Mom, leaving didn’t stop you from being part of that world. I’ve been thinking about this,” She looked at Dad.

  He glared.

  Lots of glaring going on here.

  “No, Paul, it’s time to stop pretending or hiding. Mom,” she looked at Mara again, “I think in spite of your best efforts, your family—your heritage—is finding a way to make itself known. No matter how hard you deny it. Why did Brennan and Drake land where they did? Practically on top of Iris? Do you really think that is coincidence?”

  Mara pursed her lips together and looked out the window.

  “I don’t,” Mom went on. “I think this is a way for your heritage to insist that it won’t be denied. You always told me family over all. Although we didn’t do very well with that, perhaps it’s time to try it again.” I could see the tears glisten in her eyes.

  Which made tears spring to mine, dammit.

  “You think I am rigid? You have no idea of what rigid is,” Mara grumbled. “You’re going into a court situation, Iris. Your intended is a king and the son of an even more important king. While the Goblin Kingdom is not the most important, it’s nothing to sneeze at, either.”

  “What are his parents like?” Mom asked.

  Mara sighed. “Jharak is a good man, the easier going of the two. Nerida is more formal, much more traditional. They share the pants in the family. Each of them is incredibly strong. Jharak is a good leader, and part of that is because he and Nerida are a true partnership. You’ve met Nerida. Even then you can see she’s a force. She is no meek spouse, leaving it all up to her husband.”

  “Yeah, right up until they lied their asses off for years to their son,” I snapped. “You’re right, that takes some serious balls.”

  “Hush, child,” Mara said, not even phased. “Whether or not you agree with them, if they did so, they had a reason. I’m not saying it’s right,” she held up a hand to forestall any response from me, “But they love both their sons.”

  “Wait, I thought Brennan lost his brother,” Mom said, looking confused.

  “He thought the same thing,” Mara continued. “And Jharak and Nerida took in a child who was—well,” she glanced at me, and I could tell she didn’t want to get into the whole mess of how human kids got there. “They took in a child who came to them from this world, from the Human Realm.”

  Silence fell across the table, heavy and leaden. You could hear the difference in how Mara spoke, when sh
e said Human Realm. It hit me then, how alien this must seem to my parents.

  “The purpose was to bring Brennan from his melancholy, to let him be a child again, although in truth,” she looked down, her eyes looking at something none of us could see, “I am not sure he was ever a child. He was always a solemn boy, and he became more so once Jharak declared he was heir to the Goblin Kingdom.”

  She brushed away a piece of lint I couldn’t see, her manner business-like. “Whatever else they’ve done, they gave Brennan the greatest gift ever when they took Drake in. When he lived, they formally adopted him.”

  “What does that mean?” Dad asked. “You’ve both mentioned that before. I don’t get it.”

  “The Fae Realm is not kind to those not born there. When other species, like humans, find their way there, they often die.” Mara didn’t beat around the bush.

  “And you want to let Iris go there?”

  I could see his anger rising again. So could Mara.

  “She’s already been there. I have the word of Brennan, Drake, and Taranath that she will not die. If she was going to, she’d have done so already.”

  “So sorry to inconvenience anyone,” I rolled my eyes.

  “The point is, because of your family history, Iris, and some great unknown that I don’t understand, you are going to be okay in the Fae Realm. Your daughter, Paul, my granddaughter, is going to be an amazing fae and an amazing queen,” Mara gave me a look that almost seemed fond.

  It surprised me.

  “Yeah, well, she doesn’t have to,” Dad crossed his arms, and now he was the one glaring out the window.

  “Yes, Paul, she does,” Mara leaned in, trying to catch his eye. “Do you remember when you and Claire came to tell me that you were in love, and you wouldn’t take no for an answer?”

  Dad didn’t respond right away.

  “I was so stupid, Chauncey and I both were. We were sure that Claire would see reason, or that your family would put an end to things. But neither happened, and I spent the next twenty years away from the best thing in my life other than Chauncey,” Mara went on. “Do you really want to be in the same position with your only daughter? It’s not worth it. Let me tell you that upfront. Being right is not worth it.” She sat back.