The Shadowed Path

11. Lawrence

11

Lawrence

Darkness swallowed us and the noises of the outside world like the gaping maw of a monstrous being. I half-expected to hear a heartbeat as I followed Troubadour, who glowed with purplish light, through a series of increasingly tight twists and turns that made my stomach clench.

The Fae on my back swore and asked, "What is this, the world's worst video game?"

"Yes, but with just one life."

Again, the words, Do you trust me? echoed in my head, but from my inner gargoyle, who loved the flying challenge. I let go of control more than I ever had and let him drive. A buoyant sense of elation and a new sense of welcome from the rock around me almost drowned out the rage that had simmered within for centuries.

We can't hurt him, no matter how much we want to, I reminded myselves. We need him to find John and Kestrel.

Troubadour came to a stop in front of a stone face that reflected our images like ghosts in a cloudy black mirror.

The bard Fae grinned. "Final twist. You ready?"

I hovered with some effort. "As long as this is almost over."

"Yep. Fold your wings."

"What?"

"Do as I do. Fold your wings. Otherwise, you can't follow me." He did as he'd suggested and dropped like a stone out of view.

Rhys' voice pitched higher with his panic. "You're not going to do that, are you?" I could tell from our reflections that his skin had taken on a green cast.

I grinned, which looked like a grimace on my gargoyle face, but there was no mistaking the gleam in my eyes. "Hang on."

After a split second of nothing, we dropped. It's entirely possible that Rhys' arms around my neck kept my abdominal organs from escaping through my mouth. There was a moment of regret, a whispered, "Sorry," to anyone I'd wronged in my life, before a cushion of air slowed our descent and set us gently on the ground. Rhys tumbled from my back, landed on all fours in the soft black sand, and threw up. It had been hours since we'd eaten, so not much came up. A whisper of laughter echoed around us, and I strained to see who'd made the sound, but Troubadour's black light and Rhys' blue glow didn't dispel the gloom. My gargoyle sense of the minerals around us told me we stood in a large chamber, the only entrance to which lay above us.

I dropped the packs and patted my belly to make sure everything had returned to its position.

Troubadour frowned down at Rhys, then rolled his eyes. "That one doesn't have a strong stomach, does he? It's no wonder his wings haven't appeared."

"About that…" I reached for my pack, then stopped. I could ask those questions later. "Never mind. Where are we?"

"Under the dark Fae capital of Cruaidh. Welcome to the Cavern of Dark Echoes." Troubadour struck his harp, and the note echoed and grew stronger. As its volume increased, the cave illuminated with metal-ensconced torches, the flames from which reflected in a million crystals of all colors. Rhys, who had finally regained his feet, and I looked around, open-mouthed. The torches remained lit as the note faded away.

When I could tear my gaze away from the beauty above us, I found we stood on an island of dark sand. The rest of the cave's floor shone like the mirror we'd flown by and had several seating areas with furniture ranging from tenth century Turkish rugs and cushions to a circle of leather recliners with an ottoman in the middle.

"What is this place?"

Troubadour walked to the nearest area, a table with antique velvet-upholstered chairs arranged around it. His wings disappeared, and he plopped onto one of the chairs and placed his harp on the table.

"A place of rest and refuge for those who know how to find it and don't mind a little drama to get here."

I ended up carrying over an ottoman I could sit on since my wings wouldn't disappear to accommodate a chair. "You seem good at drama."

"It's a Fae thing."

Rhys prowled around the room and poked and prodded at cushions with his index finger. "This is all human furniture."

"That's how it's remained undetected all these centuries."

Rhys joined us, taking the chair furthest away from Troubadour at the table. "So, who else knows about this?"

"Only a few powerful dark Fae who don't trust our leadership." Troubadour shrugged. "You may get to meet one of them if we hang around long enough, but with Princey here, they may opt not to come out."

"I have a name," Rhys growled. "It's Prince Rhys. Don't forget it."

Troubadour answered his complaint with a bored, "Wouldn't dream of it."

"Gentlemen, please." I didn't need to have to referee a Fae fight, which I imagined would be like a cat fight but not nearly as cute. And as a veterinarian, I never thought cat fights were cute.

My heart still pounded in my throat, so I stood and walked among the furniture to get it to slow. When I glanced back, I saw Rhys watching me.

"You all right?"

"Yeah. I need to cool off after all that hard flying. You're not exactly a light passenger."

At least the primitive part of me had stopped actively plotting Rhys' death, although I sensed it hadn't gone too far underground. It wouldn't as long as I felt in danger, which would be this entire trip. Was that why I couldn't change back to human?

I stopped in front of a leather couch that looked like something I would buy and folded my wings as closely as I could. Then I attempted to lie down on it. One of my wing tips punctured the leather, and I looked over to Troubadour to see if he'd noticed. He hadn't—he and Rhys leaned toward each other and engaged in some sort of debate, which didn't look too hostile, so I turned my attention back to the torn sofa. I removed my wing tip and attempted to align the material so it wouldn't show so much. To my relief, it closed on its own.

"Huh, self-healing furniture. That's handy." I resisted the urge to puncture it with one of my claws to see if it would repair itself again.

"What did you do?" Rhys' tone had the singsong cadence of a parent asking after a naughty child.

And like a boy who'd been caught, I replied, "Nothing."

I gave up trying to arrange myself on the sofa, which wouldn't fit my larger frame, and returned to the table. A rumbling came from my abdomen, reminding me it had been several hours since breakfast, and I'd just had a tough workout. My heart rate still felt elevated, but slower than before, so I sat.

"Do you have anything to eat down here?" I hoped the answer would be yes. After all that, the thought of a protein bar or camping meal didn't appeal in its small amount. I wanted meat, preferably roasted, with nice crusty bread to sop up the juices… Stop that, I warned my inner gargoyle. You can't drive me to distraction with food and then take over to kill Rhys.

I needed to turn back to human. Otherwise, who knew how long I could keep control?

"Sorry, lads, you're on your own, although…" Troubadour struck a chord this time, and Rhys and I both leaned forward. I know I hoped food would appear. Instead, the cramping in my stomach subsided slightly. Still…

"Thanks, but music didn't soothe the savage beast. Nice try, though." As much as I hated to reveal a weakness, if it could be called that, I continued, "Do either of you know a spell or technique for a stuck shift? I would like to return to my human form and rest, if possible."

Troubadour and Rhys exchanged glances, then shrugged and returned their Fae gazes back to me. I sensed they conferred, possibly using what Reine referred to as "secret conversation."

Rhys shrugged. "Sorry, mate, can't help you. Faerie does strange things to gargoyles."

"Yes, you'd mentioned that. Is there anything else I should be aware of?"

Another silent conversation, at least from my perspective, ensued. Finally, Troubadour set his harp on the table, stood, and said with what I was coming to recognize as his typical dramatic flair, "If you don't tell him, I will. I swear, you high Fae hoard information like it's gold."

"Wait," Rhys sighed. "Fine, I'll tell him." He turned to me. "You can't spend too much time here in Faerie. Our physiology isn't compatible, and so you're not using the air as efficiently as we can. If you ate our food, it wouldn't fuel you like it does us."

"What will happen if I don't leave?"

Troubadour didn't appear at all distressed when he informed me, "You'll waste away to nothing and/or suffocate."

"Did you think it would be a good idea to tell me this before I agreed to come?" I asked Rhys.

"Obviously not. And would it have made a difference?"

"No." I slumped, my wings heavy. "No, it wouldn't have. My best friend and his daughter, my goddaughter, are here and in danger. I need to find them so you can send us all home."

But we were in the pit of a cavern waiting out the night, and I had no idea where they were, only that they followed the Shadowed Path, and who knew how far ahead they were? Then a thought chilled me, wings and all. "Could the water wolves have gotten them?"

No help from the two Fae there. They both shrugged.

Troubadour ran his finger along the carving on his harp. "It's unusual for them to gather this time of year, at least like that. Typically, their swarm is a spring event."

"Wait, what season is it here?"

Rhys snorted. "Isn't it obvious? Late autumn."

"So Faerie is in the Southern hemisphere?" This time I did dig my notebook out of my pack and start to take notes. I ignored how comically small my pen looked in my hand.

"It's nowhere." Rhys gestured around us. "Space and time are more fluid here. It's like a parallel or alternate dimension, but not exactly parallel because this world and yours touch at certain points."

I put my pen down and almost became mesmerized by the twinkling of the flames on the crystals. With a shake of my head, I returned my attention to the two Fae, who looked more annoyed than bemused at my questions. Screw them, they could deal with it. "So, it's more of a quantum physics sort of thing?"

Troubadour frowned, and annoyingly few wrinkles appeared. "A quantum what-sics?"

"Human science." Rhys didn't bother to hide his condescension toward human scientists. "They're still figuring things out."

"They're doing a great job of it, considering they don't have the shortcut of magic. And what's the problem with your wings?"

Both Rhys and Troubadour recoiled, and Rhys snapped, "That's personal, mate!"

I made a note of that as well. It was always good to know what your enemy was sensitive about.

Troubadour strummed his harp, the sound both sweet and eerie as it echoed around the space. The torches dimmed. "We should take advantage of the opportunity to rest."

"Yes." Rhys stalked off and picked a pile of cushions on the far end of the cave. I pulled a protein bar from my pack—again, noting how small it looked, but it was better than nothing. I munched as I finished my notes and my account of the day, including my observations of the two male Fae and their behavior. Reine had been irritated by my treating her as an object of study when we first met. As for these two, I didn't care about their opinions. I knew how they felt about me as a gargoyle, which ranked below humans in Fae estimation.

Troubadour played a lullaby on his harp, and the music didn't bother me. It conferred some sort of civilization and order to a situation that had none. As he played, I flipped back through my journal because I knew I needed to ask him something, but it had fled my brain in the intervening dramatic hours. Then, when I found it, I couldn't believe I'd forgotten it considering how tied up it had been in the issues around the CPDC and my and Reine's becoming connected to each other.

"Hey, Troubadour, can I ask you a question?"

"Hey, gargoyle, it depends on what it is."

"When Reine and I encountered you before, you said you'd helped to summon the soul-eater. Rather, that you helped a light Fae do so. Who was it?"

Troubadour struck a sour note, and the crystals chimed in with their own discord that shook me to my core.

"I can't tell you."

"Can't or won't?"

He sighed, and for the first time, I believed the sad expression on his face. "Can't. They disguised themselves down to clouding their energy. Powerful Fae can do that."

"But you know it was someone from the Light Court."

"Yes, because only a high-ranking light Fae could have cooperated with me to summon the soul-eater." He stood. "Good night, gargoyle. Rest well."

"I'll try."

I found a different pile of cushions to rest on, far away from Rhys. It seemed I had barely closed my eyes before Troubadour was nudging me awake with his foot.

"Get up, gargoyle. It's almost dawn, and we have to leave."

"What, why?" I shook my head to clear the fog.

"Because the owner of the cave is on her way, and she won't be pleased to see me."

An angry female voice chased the rest of the cobwebs from my brain.

"Troubadour, you useless prince. What in Hades are you doing here? And why do you have a gargoyle?"