CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT
INISFAIL COURT
AZAR
“Would you like to wear white?” Smiley held out the full skirt of a gown for examination.
Azar held in a snort at the idea of wearing white now. She’d been thoroughly ravished every night since Fechin kidnapped her. And afternoon. And morning. There wasn’t a schedule for when Fechin wanted her. White hardly seemed appropriate. She was no innocent girl going to her wedding night. She was already pregnant!
One hand moved to press against her stomach. It was flat. No flutters against her palm. Nothing to indicate there was a baby. Of course it was too soon for any of that.
“Keep your head up,” Bossy commanded. “You’ll make the hairstyle crooked.”
“My apologies.” Azar obediently lifted her head and stared at the white dress whole Bossy finished a braid and used some mystifying power to hold it in place.
The three Brownies who had taken her care as their responsibility were more excited than she was about her wedding. They’d appeared out of nowhere, as they usually did, ran a bath, and settled her on some cushions so they could all reach her for the makeover. Azar hadn’t offered any opinions or arguments. The whole thing was happening so fast it still felt a bit unreal.
The dress Smiley had chosen was beautiful — an elaborate combination of lace, silk, and shiny beads that twinkled in the light. Actually, they probably weren’t beads. More likely the shiny baubles were diamonds that ravens would flock from the sky to rip off the delicate material.
It wasn’t something Azar would normally consider wearing, but Fechin probably intended the dress for this day. It was all about him getting everything he wanted and not much to do with what she did. She’d always imagined she would obsess over every detail of her wedding, not participate as a puppet. Maybe she should wear it and hope ravens destroyed the gown as she walked down the aisle. That would be symbolic, wouldn’t it? A raven had torn her life apart.
“No. I think I’d prefer to wear a different color. Green.” Dark green reminded her of the trees in her beloved forest. If her father couldn’t be here, at least she’d have a small reminder of her past as she embraced a future she’d never imagined for herself.
Smiley turned back to the clothing, murmuring to himself as he disappeared into the depths of the closet. He backed out a few minutes later with a dark green gown draped over his arms. “This one is nice, isn’t it?”
Dark green velvet was embroidered with almost black leaves and roses with sleeves made of vines that would wrap around her arms to the wrist. They reminded her of the ropes Fechin bound her with. He would no doubt appreciate the hint of bondage. She could use the reminder to help herself remember she was not free, however decorative the cage.
“It’s perfect.” Dreamy used a puff to apply scented powder on Azar’s nose. The Brownie nodded, then picked up a red gloss and dabbed color on Azar’s lips. “Perfect. Now stand up so we can help you get dressed.”
The Brownies helped her put on the flowing gown. The hemline brushed the floor. No one would see her feet. Azar smiled. Maybe she could choose her footwear.
“No boots,” Bossy ordered.
The Brownies knew her too well. “No heels,” Azar countered.
“Be glad she’s not insisting on trousers.” Smiley offered an impish grin.
Azar had thought about it, but she’d learned about picking her battles during her time at Raven Castle. She might be able to slip on some pants under the dress anyway. Who would know?
Mischief and Tricks flew through the window carrying red and black flowers woven in a circlet. Hovering above her, they lowered their gift atop Azar’s head. More ravens brought shiny earrings, bracelets, and a necklace.
Gifts from Fechin, Azar was sure. The Brownies put them on for her. She felt like nothing more than a toy that Fechin liked to see dressed in shiny things, but today she stifled the urge to feel resentment. Fechin was King. It would hardly be appropriate for his bride to show up for her wedding, however short and informal a ceremony, wearing trousers and no riches.
Dreamy offered her a bouquet of more red and black flowers with a sigh. Unsure about the colors, Azar nevertheless accepted the blooms. Perhaps the Morrigan would approve. It seemed rude to refuse flowers from Fechin’s mother’s garden.
“There. You’re lovely.” Smiley beamed.
“The most beautiful bride.” Dreamy clasped her hands together and pressed them to her cheek.
When the trio of Brownies pushed Azar to stand in front of the mirror, she didn’t recognize the woman staring back at her. This woman looked like a princess. Had she lost so much of herself in a little over a month? She eyed the window, wishing she could follow the ravens as they flew away. She envied their freedom and carefree way of living.
“Hurry, or you’ll be late.” Bossy pointed to the door.
Sighing, Azar followed the Brownies from the room to the bottom of the stairs, where an elegant woman wearing a formal gown in orange waited for her, holding several pieces of lacy material.
The woman curtsied and sorted through the fabrics. She held up a gauzy green rectangle. “It’s tradition, my Lady. A happily married woman must place the veil on you so your marriage will be happy, too.”
It didn’t seem likely a scrap of material would create a happy marriage, no matter who placed it on her head, but Azar held still, playing her part while the happily married stranger played hers. The gesture was a sweet tradition, but also reminded her of how alone she was in this place that was not her home. Shisti was her only friend, but she didn’t like Fechin and probably wouldn’t attend the ceremony. It took only moments for the woman to position the veil with hairpins supplied by Bossy.
“Thank you.” Better to make the best of her circumstances.
“Of course. We’re all happy for you and Fechin.” The woman offered another curtsey with a rustle of skirts and hurried away.
The Brownies led Azar into the garden along a rose petal strewn path.
Fechin waited for her in the center that seemed much larger. In the time it had taken Azar to bathe and dress, tables and chairs for guests had been arranged, leaving an aisle in their middle. Her husband to be wore all black as usual, with his long hair in neat braids. He waited atop the arched bridge across the fish pond. Her confused heart beat faster and she caught her breath. He was handsome, and the look he gave her was adoring.
Another stranger, dressed in a red hooded robe, stood at his side, and courtiers milled around. A few faces were familiar from the dinners she’d attended. Everyone watched her with happiness, envy, and expectations. Azar’s heart ached as loneliness and homesickness threatened to overwhelm her. Her feet felt like boulders as she forced her smile to remain on her face and take the required steps as three Brownies instead of her father escorted her through the crowd. When she’d been delivered into Fechin’s arms, the Brownies backed away, leaving her stranded.
The red-robed man placed her hand in Fechin’s. “May your joys be as bright as the morning, and your sorrows fade in the sunlight of love. May good luck be with you wherever you go, and your blessings outnumber the shamrocks that grow. May you always have a sunbeam to warm you, a moonbeam to charm you, and shelter each other so nothing can harm you.”
The man wrapped a red ribbon around their joined hands. Fechin slipped a golden ring onto her finger. The band depicted two hands holding a ruby heart under an obsidian crown. No one asked her to say anything. Fechin lifted her veil to kiss her.
And that was it. A short ceremony. As Fechin had promised. And she hadn’t promised anything.
Music filled the air as her husband led her onto a cleared grassy area and twirled her into a dance. “You must keep one foot on the floor at all times, or fairies might steal you away from me.”
Azar laughed in spite of herself. “You’re their King, aren’t you? You could just make them give me back.”
He bent so his forehead touched hers. “I will always bring you home, maité anam.”
His words sent a shiver through her. With her escape plan ever in the back of her mind, what Fechin meant as a reassurance sounded more like a threat.
Others joined them to dance, and Azar found herself passed from partner to partner. Even Bossy danced with her, and she found herself caught up in the festive mood. She could pretend this was just a festival. Her spirit lightened, and her smiles came easier.
Breathless and happy, she went with Fechin to sit at the head of their table. Brownies brought out platters of food and served everyone as they watched entertainers performing acrobatics and juggling in the meadow.
Fechin held her hand in his larger one, thumb stroking the sensitive skin of her inner wrist. “Are you happy, maité anam?”
Azar sighed. At this moment, she was. A part of her didn’t want to admit it. Telling Fechin he’d made her happy seemed like rewarding him for kidnapping her and taking her choices away. But she already kept a secret from him, and she didn’t want to add to her guilty conscience with a lie. “Yes. You win. I am happy, and I love you, Fechin.”
His joyous smile lit his black eyes, and he appeared almost boyish as he leaned toward her upturned face. “Shall we go —”
A series of thunderous booms tore across the sky. Guests shouted and pointed. Overhead, beyond the blue sky, a layer of gray fog hovered.
Beside her, Fechin swore.
The fog parted, revealing a second blue sky, the two separated by the fog that surrounded Inisfail.
“What’s happening, Fechin?” Was that fog what was keeping her in? Was her world somewhere under that second blue sky? Was this Shisti’s doing?
“The wards, maité anam. We are under attack.”
What felt like claws raked through Azar, digging into something deep inside her and latching on. She screamed at the invasive agony. Her child! Azar doubled over. Wrapping her arms around herself, she collapsed to her knees, then to her side, curling her legs to her chest.
“Maité anam!” Fechin dropped to the ground beside her.
Hundreds of lightning bolts struck the fog between layers of blue skies, tearing it to shreds. A few strikes came through and struck the ground and forest, setting trees on fire. People scattered and screamed while others stared, dumbfounded.
Fechin tore his gaze from her to the sky and fixed on her again. His big body vibrated with tension as he battled the urge to stay with her or face the threat in the sky.
“Go,” Azar managed to get out through her clenched teeth. “Protect Inisfail.”
Fechin hesitated, his gaze full of conflict. Another lightning bolt arced through the fog and struck the bridge over the pond, sending splinters into the air. Fechin growled, changed to his raven form, and flew toward the storm. Waves of power emanated from him as he rose into the sky.
Almost casually, a streak of lightning broke away from the fog and struck him like swatting a gnat. The blow sent Fechin reeling, but he recovered, seemingly unharmed. More bolts followed the first, one after another targeting Fechin, breaking through his protections. He screeched, and smoke rose from his feathers. Fechin zigged and zagged, changing height and tipping up a single wingtip to avoid the devasting strikes.
Azar found herself holding her breath and sending all her will toward Fechin, like she could help him fly faster or be more agile. The lightning chased him across the sky, blocking his path, driving him lower. Gales of wind swept in our of nowhere and caught Fechin under his extended wings, carrying him higher.
Three forks of lightning streaked across the sky and merged to form a gigantic, roiling ball of power. A single bolt emerged, thicker and brighter than all the rest. The winds grew stronger, sending tables and chairs spinning. Fechin beat his wings, but appeared stuck in midair, unable to make headway.
“No,” Azar whispered. She wanted to scream but was afraid to distract him. If he miscalculated even a little, one of those bolts would hit him. How many times could he absorb that much power?
The combined lightning bolt hit Fechin in a flash that left Azar seeing nothing but white. The explosion of power sent out a concussive blast that knocked wedding guests to the ground in a series of thuds, grunts, and pain filled gasps.
Azar blinked rapidly, trying to clear her vision. Small hands were on her. The Brownies. They were talking, or maybe yelling, but sounded far away and underwater. She pressed her palms to her eyes, willing them to see. Everything was still white. Had she been blinded? No. The whole world was lit up white. In the sky, where Fechin had been, was a huge ball of white fire that blazed like the sun.
“Fechin!” Azar screamed for him, but her voice sounded small and tinny even in her head. She struggled to sit up, but those invisible claws held her down. They dug into her deeper, like they would pull her into the earth. Was this Shisti’s magic? Azar hadn’t thought there would be so much pain.
The white light vanished, leaving Azar squinting to see any sign of Fechin. Had he lived? How could anyone have survived that lightning onslaught? She’d wanted to escape, but hadn’t wished Fechin dead.
But there he was. The raven hung suspended high above her. He wasn’t moving. Azar fought the magic attacking her and reached for him. Like she could pluck him from the sky. The winds stopped. Fechin turned human and fell, tumbling out of control, limbs flailing. Azar wailed, in her own pain and in fear for Fechin.
Dozens of enormous ravens soared into the air. Led by Mischief, they aimed for Fechin. Each of them caught part of him. Talons latched onto hair, wrists, feet, scraps of clothing, and into muscle. Fechin was hardly visible beneath the feathers. Flapping their wings in unison, the flock slowed Fechin’s fall and deposited him in front of Azar.
He was alive, but for how long? His body shook. Burns in the shape of forked lightning smoldered on his skin. Blood poured from his nose, eyes, and the puncture wounds left behind by his saviors. The reek of charred flesh and feathers assailed her nose. Invisible claws dug deeper into Azar. Her blood burned, a searing sensation traveling from her fingers and toes, up her legs, and down her arms, to join under her hands, cupped over her baby.
Azar imagined she heard the infant wailing in distress, and her heart ached for the life she was powerless to protect. Tears spilled down her cheeks and she curled into a tighter ball. A hint of buffeted her back. A cool breeze soothed her fevered skin. The double blue skies and fragmented fog faded. She darted a desperate gaze to Fechin.
His eyes opened. One hand struggled to lift and reach for her. She fought through her agony to reach toward him. Their fingertips touched for a moment, then Fechin disappeared from view as the invisible claws wrenched her backward into darkness.