[Through Time 02.0] Whiplash Page 14

  Jazz then noticed its open mouth and thought, Oh no! That can’t be a mouth. The dark opening held her horribly fascinated; it was full of spiked hairs, and those hairs had living, biting snakeheads at their tips. Lots and lots of mouths to feed, she told herself, thinking she was in an awful place and that she really needed to leave.

  Her confidence vanished. Sheer and complete terror took over. “TREVOR!” she screamed.

  Trevor cursed softly. “I know this beast!” he called out to her. “It has its origins in Danu.”

  “Where can we go?” she wailed. “It is coming fast!”

  “Don’t worry, I have a plan. This thing was created without benefit of the Wheel of Being, a derivative of the Krill.”

  “You’re giving me a history of this thing’s family tree?” she asked incredulously. “Just tell me how we kill it!”

  It stopped suddenly and looked directly at Trevor as though puzzling out just how to get past him to its food.

  It obviously had decided she was just what it needed to eat, immediately. However, the creature appeared to be leery of Trevor, and it clawed the ground angrily.

  Jazz wondered, did it recognize Trevor as Fae? She looked into the beast’s soulless eyes and did, in fact, think she saw intelligence seated there. She felt a pang of sympathy for the beast. What was this Dark King that he had created so much havoc and pain, leaving all these creatures to fend for themselves?

  Trevor had his Death Sword in hand and yelled over the beast’s roar at her, “Stay out of its way—STAY PUT. Its saliva is poisonous—to you, poisonous. Do you understand?”

  She nodded vigorously. She had every intention of staying out of its way.

  Trevor shifted onto the creature’s back, stood, and got ready to plunge his Death Sword. Then the unthinkable happened.

  The beast stood and swiped the air with its huge claws, and Trevor lost his balance and fell.

  The beast went back on all four and looked as though it was about to devour Trevor whole.

  Jazz reacted; she ran forward, getting in its face to distract it. “Hey—you! Come on. You don’t want him—you want me …!”

  It growled ferociously at her and forgot Trevor for the moment as it shook its enormous tawny mane and lowered its head while stalking towards her.

  Trevor was already up and shouting at her to run, and she did, wondering how Trevor had recovered so quickly.

  The beast was nearly on her, and she said a silent prayer as she looked over her shoulder to see Trevor once again on its back.

  He plunged the Death Sword deep inside the beast. As it toppled to the ground, he shifted in front of it, saying ancient Danu words as he raised his sword again, this time with a slashing expertise that left it decapitated. What he apparently didn’t see as he got busy calling on a fire to burn the head was that, as the beast fell and rolled, it disgorged its last meal, one that was still alive.

  Jazz’s eyebrows rose with her horror as a creature no taller than she but with many more legs, spidery legs, jumped onto the dry, dead earth and paused.

  It looked like an overgrown tarantula until its protruding eyes discovered her standing there. She swore to herself that it somehow smiled … an evil, I’m coming for you smile.

  Something grotesque popped out of the top of its hairy body, and Jazz saw that it was another head—this one the size of a melon. In addition to the many eyes that this head sported was a row of gnashing, chomping, razor-like teeth.

  She ran. There was nowhere to go but towards the oddly shaped glass building ahead. Maybe someone there, assuming that someone was there, might take pity on her situation and let her in.

  She switched into Fios and used her Fios speed. She knew she shouldn’t, but she couldn’t help herself—she looked over shoulder to see if the beast was gaining on her. It was. She was so dead.

  She was almost at the glass house … almost, when she looked back once more and discovered that the monstrous spidery thing had stopped. It raised up onto four of its eight legs and gave what appeared to be a victory cry

  Magic! Because of her fear she had forgotten what she could do. With her back to the wall, so to speak, she turned and centered all her thoughts into one. She took whatever Dark Magic the creature had inside it and slammed that Dark Magic right back at it. YES, she told herself, Fios slamming.

  It took the hit like a cannonball to its center, a center that had produced a suction-cup mouth with canines, and the beast went flying backwards.

  All this had happened in less than a minute.

  Trevor hadn’t yet noticed any of this as he made certain the krill was burned and unable to rise up.

  Jazz turned back to the glass building and began pounding on its walls but got nothing. After what was only a moment though seemed an age to her, she turned to see the thing had righted itself and was coming at her once more as though it were driven by steam engines.

  When it was less than one hundred feet away, it emitted something from one of its orifices, shooting it through the air to splatter her legs.

  She felt a tingly sensation.

  It felt hot and gooey, and when she tried to move, she found she was stuck in place. And the thing was still coming for her!

  She screamed out Trevor’s name, but she didn’t have to—he was already there, plunging his Death Sword into the melon head, and then he cut the creature in half.

  She watched him set the body on fire and then walk towards the head that had rolled some feet away.

  She felt an odd twinge of pain begin to scurry up her legs. The twinge became a stabbing, sharp pain and seemed to increase in strength. She wondered if she had twisted a muscle trying to get out of the goop.

  Trevor was in a fury as he stomped towards her and shouted, “I told you to stay put. Why don’t you ever listen?”

  “Well, you are welcome,” she snapped in spite of the fact that in addition to her being stuck in goop, her legs felt like they were on fire. She found one hand was quite paralyzed, so she brought up the other to point at him and was surprised to hear her voice was no louder than a whisper. “I was saving you from being eaten.”

  “I am a Seelie Royal. Did you think I was unconscious? I was waiting for the beast to come closer so that I could plunge my sword into its throat!” He threw up his hands with exasperation and then seemed to see for the first time that she was standing in a horrific substance.

  “What the hell?” he said.

  “Well, then,” said Jazz, ignoring this. “There you are—and who expected that thingy to come out of its insides?” And, so saying, she felt herself sway.

  Something was wrong, very, very wrong, and the last thing she remembered was Trevor, crying out her name as he reached for her.

  * * *

  Trevor’s lip curled with fury as he exploded the slimy substance away from her with a flick of his wrist. It turned to gray dust and filled the air with a thick cloud of putrid odor before the breeze dissipated it.

  Even as he did this, he saw that she was unsteady and reached for her as she began to pass out. He caught her as she crumpled and held her cradle-like in his arms.

  He couldn’t think.

  He had to find a warm place for her human body. He had to break all the rules, just as Breslyn would do, and save her, for he had no doubt she had been covered in a poison that had gotten into the pores of her skin.

  He shifted with her, and came to stand at the oddly shaped and impenetrable glass building. All at once, and without his asking, a ten-by-ten-foot sliding glass door appeared and opened. A robotic voice invited politely, “Enter.”

  Trevor carried her inside and found himself teleported with her still in his arms to a large and comfortable-looking chamber. Warmth enveloped him, and he saw that a fire burned invitingly in a corner pot-bellied stove. It struck him as odd, but he was thankful, for it would help warm his Jazmine Decker.

  At the far end of the room was a huge and canopied four-poster bed with soft blue velvet hangings, and he deposited
her there.

  He stroked her head and fixed her long, tangled blonde hair, blinking it smooth and then gently pushing it away from her face. He took off her gloves and rubbed her hands with his own. He dropped a kiss on her nose and then on her frozen lips and murmured, “Jazmine Decker, you will be fine. Do you hear me, sweet Fios? I shall warm you and heal you.”

  He took her pulse, bent over her to put his head to her heart, and heard its faint beating. “There you are, sweet Fios, my Fios.” He sighed, laid hands over her chest, and said out loud, “Now, I will absorb the poison from your body.” A tendril of power traveled from his body, through his hands, and into her, but very little of the poison was drawn from her. He frowned. “What is wrong, by Danu? It is not working!” He was frantic; suddenly, for the first time in his long young life, he was afraid, truly afraid.

  The robotic voice said, “She is dying. You cannot heal her, as the poison has already begun shutting down her human organs. You may use our facilities to make her last moments comfortable.”

  “Dying? No—she is not. I won’t let her,” Trevor spat as he turned around, looking for a body to match to the voice.

  “You are Seelie. You may not interfere with the human life force—they live, they die.”

  “Damn you. She is not going to die.” He took her hand in his, which he discovered was shaking, and his insides clenched. “I have never healed anyone, human or otherwise. I am not certain why it isn’t working. The poison should have been drawn out of you, Jazmine Decker. Listen to me, sweet love, don’t go … I won’t, can’t lose you. Please, Jazmine Decker, fight the poison. Let your Fios fight the poison.”

  The robotic voice clucked at him. “A Fios is not immortal. She cannot fight the poison.”

  “Damn you!” he shouted. “Why didn’t you allow us entrée at once? YOU knew what was out there. If you had let her in—”

  “Destiny moves on its own,” the voice said, interrupting him. “I was created to guard and protect only my mistress and promote non-interference in all other matters. However, my mistress was once human and has instilled other directives in me, and at times they collide, as they did when I observed that your Fios was dying. It is not interference to give shelter at such times.”

  Trevor decided to ignore the voice as he took a survey of Jazmine Decker’s body and realized that some of the spider’s paralyzing formula had certainly gotten into her organs. They were shutting down.

  If he didn’t find an answer soon, he would lose his Jazmine Decker. He could see her skin start to turn red; a rash was forming over much of her body. He knew too much of the poison had been absorbed. No, he thought. She can’t die. He had to heal her organs—but how? He had never seen it done. He knew nothing about human anatomy.

  Then, the unthinkable occurred.

  In that moment, Trevor of Lugh was sure he had somehow grown a heart, for he felt it expand before it broke, and then he felt the two halves break again. Agony tore through his body and exploded in his brain, tearing his world into shreds.

  Jazmine Decker had somehow woven her spell around his essence, and he was fairly certain he no longer wished to live without her. But she had just died in his arms. All that she was had ceased to be.

  How could he bear this?

  He could not. He would not.

  All Trevor of Lugh’s sacred rules of Fae ethics were demolished. He raised his hands heavenward and howled with his agony.

  ~ Twelve ~

  AAIBHE RAISED HER iridescent eyes to Morgan LeBlanc as he pulled her in close and whispered in ancient Gaelic with that burr she loved so much. She couldn’t answer him, though. How could she allow this to continue? She was Queen of the Seelie Fae, and she owed—

  “Doona ye feel the same, m’darlin’ lass?” he murmured in her ear.

  She bent her head back. How she loved being his ‘darlin’ lass’. He made her whole, and she knew, looking into his blue eyes, that she could not give him up. “I do, but—”

  “There is no but. Aye, ye be Queen of the Fae. So be it. I am leader of the Milesians, and together we stand against the Dark Fae, stand between them and our worlds. The humans canna take them on without us. Together, we can unite our worlds and forget what was and think only of what will be, could be.”

  She touched his handsome face. “I know, but there are some here in Tir that would be …” She softened the word she was about to use and said, “upset.”

  “Aye, but we should no care. I doona care, and ye be queen. Ye have given everything for your subjects. Now ’tis time they stepped back and let ye be, let ye enjoy what is yer right to have—a life.”

  “You are, of course, quite right, but still I have to be careful,” she said, frowning. She heard two sets of footsteps approach her private chamber door and knew, at once, who it was. Her favorite princes. She turned towards the door, still holding onto Morgan’s arm, and said, “Enter.”

  Danté, Prince of Lugh, and Breslyn, Prince of Dagda, came in. Breslyn, who already knew that Morgan was with his queen, hurriedly closed the door at his back.

  “What is it?” Aaibhe said, dropping her hand from Morgan’s arm and stepping towards them.

  The two princes, regal, warrior-like, and full with their news, first stepped forward and heartily greeted the Milesian. Shoulder to shoulder they had fought the Dark Prince, Pestale, and his monsters, and it had made them comrades.

  They shook hands and slapped shoulders in greeting and then Danté, ever ready of purpose, turned to his queen, his face grave. “Z and I have closed a portal we found at her monoliths, but we believe it was a decoy. It didn’t have enough power to allow more than a lower-caste Unseelie through.”

  “Aye.” Breslyn nodded. “The same as what Ete and I found. These portals are meant as a distraction. There is something being created that will open wide and large, but I haven’t been able to pinpoint just where that will be.”

  The queen listened to this and paced a moment. Then Breslyn suddenly, hurriedly said, “My Queen, I can feel him. Banzar approaches.” He looked at Morgan. “Perhaps it would be better if Morgan was not here?”

  Aaibhe made up her mind in that moment. Hiding her relationship was no longer an option. Morgan was correct. She had every right to form both a romantic and political alliance, and the Council would just have to swallow it!

  A knock sounded. Excerpt for emergencies she should not be disturbed whilst in her private chambers without a formal request. Banzar did not have leave, and he did not have a prior arrangement; however, she said, “Enter, Banzar.” Her brow was up, clearly displaying her displeasure at his intrusion.

  At his back were two other Council members; he turned to them and said, “What did I tell you? She entertains a Milesian in her private chamber!”

  The two male Council members shifted uncomfortably and inclined their heads to the queen. One said, “But, Banzar, Prince Breslyn and Prince Danté are present.”

  “So they are,” said the queen. “However, they were not present a few moments ago when I was very much alone with Morgan LeBlanc,” she said, daring them to object. She had made up her mind to take them on.

  Breslyn and Danté immediately stepped up to flank her sides and folded their arms across their massive chests. Clearly they had chosen their allegiance, but then they had always displayed their loyalty to their queen.

  The two Council members with Banzar seemed to make a quick decision, and that was obvious to all in the room. They might not approve of their queen cavorting with a Milesian, but they weren’t about to take her on, at least not without first checking where she stood with the remaining Council members. They bowed their heads and backed out of the room.

  Banzar glared at her. “This is not over.”

  “You may be certain of that,” Aaibhe said.

  As he stomped out of the room Breslyn barked a laugh, but Danté said grimly, “This will mean trouble—they are coming after you, my Queen.”

  “Aye, Banzar has always wanted the throne.” Bre
slyn sneered. “But he’ll have to go through us to get it, and I don’t see that happening, eh, Danté?”

  “If he gets enough Council members to vote with him, they have the power to depose the queen.”

  “Never going to happen,” Breslyn said. “I have always wanted to take on those sour-faced fools. The time has come to weed out the useless and bring in new life, and we are just the ones to do it.”

  “Bres, it can’t be done with a sword. It will need politicking behind the scenes, and neither one of us has ever been good at that,” Danté cautioned.

  Aaibhe said nothing to all of this, and Morgan slipped a hand around her waist and said, “Am I ruining your life, my love?”

  “No, you are making it—you have given me life. If my position as queen is so fragile that someone like Banzar thinks he can depose me, well, then, ’tis time to take a stand.”

  “Damn straight,” Breslyn said, his silver eyes alight with the challenge.

  “The timing is very poor,” said the queen. “One should never fight a two-front war, and Banzar is putting us right there between two fronts, a political one on one hand, which can be distracting, while we fight to keep the Unseelie imprisoned.”

  “You have four Royal Houses at your side. You have the Daoine Fae at your back. There may be some who will take a stand with Banzar, but though we shall have to suffer the fools, there is no doubt we shall take them down!” Breslyn said in high spirits.

  Aaibhe looked into Danté’s golden eyes and saw what she knew already. This was going to be a fight to the death, and she was in grave jeopardy.

  * * *

  “Enough,” said a soft voice, and Trevor snapped his neck back as he looked up, tears flowing freely down his cheeks.

  It was not the robotic voice that had spoken only a moment ago, and at the moment he couldn’t think and had no idea to whom the female voice belonged. She was not visible, and he realized she was merely projecting her voice from somewhere else as she continued to berate him. “There is no time for this display of emotion, though I applaud your feelings. There is only a moment left before she will certainly be gone from even your ability to save her.”