June 9, 2007

2:45 a.m. EST

Uig’s Hunt Farm

After saying a lingering goodbye to his wayward mate in Ireland, Rowan gently placed the phone down with a soft click. The conversation had gone better than he had anticipated. Theryn was surprisingly accommodating about Dom shadowing her and Lisa on this insane trip they had insisted on taking.

The only reason Rowan had even entertained the idea of allowing Theryn to flit off to Ireland was that she had threatened to sneak off again if he pulled any of his “alpha stunts.” He supposed it was better to sanction the trip with proper preparations then let his little midnight runner loose without supervision.

To be honest, he was rather glad Theryn had decided to investigate the pixy matter. It was an important piece of the puzzle in finding out Darastus’ plans and there was no way he’d be able to leave the Hunt for two weeks. Rowan felt secure knowing that Dom was there, and a little guilty for taking advantage of his good friend’s affinity for Lisa.

Rowan hadn’t lied when he told Theryn he had asked Frederick to be their shadow guard first. What he hadn’t mentioned to his wife was that he had asked Frederick in front of Dom and explicitly mentioned that Theryn’s best friend Lisa would be tagging along. It was an advantage to play toward Dom’s protective instincts. Frederick would have been more than sufficient working on the orders of his alpha alone, but Dom could offer something more…something he couldn’t override even if he wanted to…

Rowan’s head flew up from the desk as he realized he was being watched. What he saw surprised him and not exactly in a good way.

“Angus, how long have you been in the office?”

Familiar violet eyes stared back at him blankly and he cursed himself for forgetting his son hadn’t learned to talk yet. He repeated his question in a more rudimentary fashion, creating the low growls and rolling barks of his first language.

Angus replied in a shortened yip that he had been there since he left his room when he’d heard mommy’s voice on the phone.

Rowan stared at his son in concern. How had he heard Theryn’s voice, over the phone, from his room down the hall? Lupinara children do not develop such keen hearing until well into their early teens. There is no way Angus should have been able to hear his mother from his bedroom…unless…

Angus let out a short rumble of surprise when his father scooped him up like a fumbled football and raced down the hallway toward the stairs.

Rowan tried to placate his son in both languages, “Its okay Ang,” calling him by the nickname Theryn gave him, “We’re just going to visit Doc.”

3:00 p.m. IST

Dublin, Ireland

Trinity College’s Special Collections Room

“Time’s up, ladies!”

Lisa’s nose was so far in her Celtic Faery Lore book that she barely noticed the bespectacled librarian as she popped her head in the door and swiftly dismissed them from the room.

“It’s 3:00 already?” Theryn asked.

Lisa double checked her watch, just in case Miss Stuffypants decided to jip them of a few more precious minutes of fey research.

“Yep, time flies when you’re having fun,” Lisa said, “Guess we better pack up and head out of here.”

“All right,” Theryn agreed, “You’ve got the directions to that old pixy assembly in Cornwall?”

Lisa double checked her roughly hand-drawn map of the ancient pixy ruins in southeast England. They had been fortunate to stumble across the map in one of the oldest volumes in Special Collections. Lisa and Theryn were taking the next flight out of Dublin to Exeter, U.K. and renting a car to some Cornwall place to try and rustle up some answers about a certain pixy assassin.

“Got it right here,” Lisa assured, “Let’s go.”

“We better pack some clothes before we leave, I have a feeling we won’t get this done tonight,” Theryn explained.

Lisa’s eyes gleamed at the prospect of getting out of this musty library and into some real action, “Sounds good to me.”

2:00 a.m. GMT

Cornwall, U.K.

A Deserted Dirt Road in the Cornish Countryside

Lisa and I had just found the last marker on the faery map. I parked our miniature Euro car off the side of the road in hopes that no one would side swipe the rental in the dark.

I looked at my partner in crime and motioned for her to put on the exceedingly ugly yet purposeful heavy iron necklaces we picked up at a metal goods store in Exeter. This was our lame insurance policy against any fey magic we might come up against. Of course I knew we had hidden back up if there was trouble…somewhere out there…

I turned the car off; when the headlights dimmed out the sudden encroachment of darkness was unwelcome. The moon above was not quite full, but it provided enough illumination to see the silhouette of the forest and mounded hills in the distance. I would have preferred to do this faery scouting during the day but the book specifically stated it had to be under the cover of darkness, apparently the pixies felt “safer” that way.

Pfffft, as if the pixies had anything to fear from us.

We opened our doors and turned on our halogen flashlights. Twin beams of light speared the meadow in front of us. We were looking for a thin stone-paved pathway leading from the meadow into the forest. Cornish Woodland pixies were on the agenda for tonight and they were supposedly human neutral, neither friend nor foe. I wasn’t sure if this was a good thing or a bad thing.

Somehow I’d convinced Lisa that this was not an occasion worthy of her “sturdy” (i.e. less than 3 inch high) black vinyl boots. For all intents and purposes we appeared to look like seasoned campers. Of course, that façade fell apart the moment we started hiking around in the thrush laden meadow. Lisa looked so completely out of her element in all-weather boots, faded jeans and a bright orange puffy vest that for a moment I didn’t recognize my friend.

Lost in my thoughts while staring at the ground in search of this elusive pathway, I missed Lisa’s comment.

“What was that?” I asked.

“I can’t believe we’re doing this?” Lisa said, with a hint of trepidation in her voice.

Surprised by the worry in my formerly fearless counterpart, I asked, “What’s the problem, you were so gung ho about this ‘pixy expedition’ and now you’re suddenly anxious?”

Lisa stopped in her tracks, hurriedly shoving wild blonde curls out of her eyes, “I’m just now realizing how stupid it may be for two lone humans to go wandering around in the middle of the night searching for ‘human neutral’ pixies. What if something goes wrong, Theryn?”

I took a stab at placating my friend, “Do you really think Rowan would have sent us out here without some sort of back up?”

Lisa’s face visibly slackened, the tension lines smoothed out like melted icing on a cake.

“Whew…I knew it. Of course your hubby sent Fred or Al over to ‘watch’ us. I can’t believe I didn’t think of it before,” Lisa said to herself out loud.

I stood there torturing myself as to whether or not to correct her when she said, “Hey, look over by that rock. Is that the path?”

Pulling out the compass to ensure we’d make it back to our car (Lisa had splurged on a GPS system that was probably going to be pixed by the Woodland fey) I ran after my friend in haste.

Lisa started jumping up and down and running toward the forest at top speed. I took it that she had found the pathway. After nearly five minutes of running, we huffed and puffed our way through the woods to the end of the path, slinging our flashlights around at every screech and rustle we heard.

Lisa turned to me perplexed, “I don’t get it, why would the path lead to wooden slab on the ground?”

Frowning, I stooped down to take a closer look at the object in question and figured out what we were supposed to do. I had done a LOT of reading on the fey these past few months. I was still no expert, but I recognized this wooden slab as a blood well, the pixy equivalent of a peep hole.

“Uh, I think we have to put our blood on the wood. See how the slab slants to the left with that circle shaped well at the bottom? You’re supposed to fill it with the blood of everyone in your party.”

Lisa looked down at me with her eyes narrowed, “You’re kidding me right?”

Cringing, I replied, “I’m afraid not.”

Lisa whipped out her Swiss Army knife and made a small cut on her left pinkie finger, as she poised herself over the well, “I swear, I don’t know why these Snibs can’t get with the times. I mean really, do they have to use blood for everything?”

Wholeheartedly agreeing with my best friend’s assertion, I dug out my own knife and followed suit. I watched as four drops of my own blood mixed in with Lisa’s and waited for something to happen.

When no earthquake or lightening storm appeared, Lisa and I decided to add more blood. Still nothing happened. I was seriously starting to question the validity of my research when out of the corner of my eye I saw something small and shiny fly through the air.

A brilliant white dagger landed with a thud in the tree trunk behind us, its violent arc had perfectly bisected the small amount of space between me and Lisa. The fact that my first reaction was to duck and try to find the source of the weapon while Lisa’s was to grab the dagger in preparation for a fight, says more about our opposing natures then I care to describe. In retrospect, had it been I that grabbed the dagger, the events that occurred thereafter would have been much different.

As it was, Lisa grabbed the dagger and the lethal blade immediately started to burn her hand, and in a perfectly instinctual response, she flung it to the ground in haste.

“Lisa, are you all right!”

“Dammit, it burned me! How can a knife burn me?” Lisa screeched.

We looked at each other in alarm as we both heard heavy footfalls coming toward us. Pixies did not run they flew; so whatever was coming at us was so not a pixy.

Lisa and I decided to run for it a moment too late, for we moved about five feet before a large rope with weighted ends began to wrap itself around us. We struggled enough for the two of us to end up in a tangled heap on the ground, arms bound behind our backs. I now knew how lassoed cattle felt and I made a mental note to self that it was not enjoyable.

We were facing opposite of each other and my long hair had fallen loose of its clip and now covered my eyes so I couldn’t see.

“Theryn, can you see anything?” Lisa whispered.

I didn’t get to answer her before two large brown boots came to stand in front of my face. I could hear another set coming up next to Lisa.

“Looks like we’ve caught ourselves a couple of humans, Caleth.”

“I haven’t seen a human in 300 years,” spat the other man, “How did they get past the meadow’s protective borders?”

I didn’t listen further because Lisa elbowed me in the back and angrily whispered, “I knew that map was too good to be true.”

I acknowledged her sentiment and seriously began to worry about our safety. I had no idea what these two things were although I was fairly certain they were of the fey variety. Where in the hell was Dom? Maybe he had been captured just like Lisa and I? These things must be pretty damn powerful if they can subdue a full-blooded battle-ready lupinara. That thought scared the crap out of me.

I didn’t have much longer to think before I felt strong hands grab me around the shoulders and pull us up to our feet. My hair thankfully cooperated and gave my eyes the first glimpse at our captors.

I saw two men with darkly tanned skin that glowed golden yellow in the moonlight and straight platinum blonde hair pulled back in a tail. They were outfitted in simple brown leather boots and pants and woven shirts. Their tall lithe physique coupled with large almond shaped eyes told me one thing…we had managed to stumble across one of the most elusive and secretive Snib species in the supernatural world.

“Elves,” I whispered in astonishment.

The shorter one to my right said, “Aye, the dark haired one recognizes us, Caleth.”

The taller one, Caleth, answered harshly, “She is human; how could she know of us?”

“Perhaps the wolf that Audwin caught can explain. He seemed very intent on protecting these two.”

My eyes met Lisa’s and I could feel the taught thrum of panic running like a current between us. We both knew that our guard had been captured; I knew it had been Dom. These elves were a lot fiercer than the Uig library books ever gave them credit for. I knew nothing about their customs, only what they looked like, similar to the fey but more homogenous and a lot more violent.

Elves were the link between the pixies and the Sidhe fey. While the pixies were for the most part ultra aggressive whirling dervishes of malice, the Sidhe fey were cultured, civilized and highly intelligent fey magic users. The elves were a genetic mix of the two, taking on the Sidhe fey’s size and intelligence and the pixies’ warrior culture. It was a potent blend of power, size and intelligence that for some reason never took over the other two races. It was believed the Elves, like many hybrid species, have trouble breeding amongst themselves. The consequences of such strong genes led to smaller numbers overall.

It also seemed that Elves were impervious to cold iron. From our captors’ lack of reaction, our ugly iron necklaces did little more than show a bad taste in jewelry. That…or the necklaces weren’t really made of iron.

I did not know how the Elves felt about humans or Weres for that matter. From the looks these two were giving us, I was willing to bet we were not welcome.

“We better bring them in to Ellswith. She’ll be cross if we linger out here too long,” said the shorter one.

“Aye,” Caleth answered.

He reached into his pocket and the next thing I knew, golden flecks of glittering pixy dust were blown into our eyes. Seconds later, my lids grew heavy and I felt the rope give way, only it was too late to muster any strength to fight back.

The last thing I saw before I went to sleep was Lisa effortlessly being lifted into the arms of a scowling platinum haired elf.