The Stargazer

Stargazer (chapter twenty-four)

They shoved her into a cell so small it could be measured in paces and slammed the door. Aislinn swore, temper spilling into the air in words. She’d messed up. She wasn’t supposed to be able to wake Rowan, she realized now. She was supposed to have tried and failed leaving her stuck here on the whim of the king. Now she was separated from even the soldiers who had come with her.


Testing the limits of her cell, she found protections against stone magic, and earth was too close to stone to serve. She couldn’t alter the stone which meant she was trapped. Casting about for weaknesses, she stretched her senses into the air. Cracks and small gaps near the ceiling allowed air to circulate but nothing big enough to exploit. She sank down on the narrow slab that was either a bench or a bed—possibly both which left her unwilling to contemplate the hole in the corner and its possible uses— and stared at her feet.


She’d come here to find Rowan and she’d found him. He was alive and well with another princess doting on him. He didn’t need her. Her plans turned to dust leaving a bad taste in her mouth.


I’m sorry, Rowan. I’ve mucked things up again.


The Whisper snaked through halls and down stairs, back to the throne room, carrying her words.


“Aislinn?”


His voice Whispered back, startling her. She hadn’t realized she had held onto the link. She’d never been able to hold a Whisper before. When had that changed and why? Another voice flowed to her along the same stream, less welcome but still familiar.


“Don’t speak that name,” the princess hissed. “She is the past. I’m here now. I’m the one you want.”


“That argument is what got me sent to sleep to begin with.” Rowan, sounding as irritable and snarly as ever, did not seem particularly enthused with that plan. “I came here with a specific purpose which doesn’t include staying. I told you that before.”


“You will stay. I woke you. You are mine now.”


Oh, no she didn’t! Her Whisper carried an edge of outrage she couldn’t conceal. The liar!


“No, you didn’t.” Rowan’s denial cut through the Whisper. “There’s only one person who could have and I’d like to see her.”


“I don’t know who you mean.” Petulant and sulky. The princess wasn’t one to give up so easily. “I woke you. I’m the woman you want.”


“No matter how many times you say it, it won’t make it true.”


The princess made an outraged sound.


I’m in a cell by myself, Rowan. Aislinn sent the information, her heart beating hard. He wasn’t here willingly and he certainly didn’t want to stay. I came here with two of your soldier friends. They were taken elsewhere, I don’t know exactly where.


“My friends were here. I’d like to see them.”


“Friends?”


“The two who came with the woman who woke me up.”


The door to her cell slammed back, startling Aislinn out of the Whisper. Two guards stepped inside and she rose warily to her feet. Grabbing her arms, they forced her to her knees as the king stepped inside.


He gazed down at her, his gray eyes as chill as the stone around them. He studied her for a long time and she could only guess what he saw. A lone woman of vibrant coloring, quite unlike either lineage she claimed.


“Daoine Maithe,” he said flatly. “The children of the light ones. What brings you to Álfheim?”


“I came looking for a friend,” she repeated. “I found him in your halls.”


The blow struck her high on the cheek, whipping her head aside, and she tasted blood. The guard twisted her arm, preventing the retaliation she hadn’t been planning. To strike the king would mean her life and she wasn’t done living just yet.


“Liar. The Ljósálfar have always envied us our strength. How like them to send a child to do their spying for them.”


Arguing that she was neither a child nor a spy would be pointless. He’d obviously made up his mind. She held her tongue. Who were these light ones? She had a feeling the answer was going to be important.


“We have struggled for eons to break free of this prison your people thrust us into. I find it strange then that within a moon cycle of our success, the Ljósálfar send you through our gate under such patently false pretenses.”


“I came looking for a friend,” she repeated. The guards’ grip on her arm tightened, drawing a pained hiss from her.


“Is he your fellow spy, then? Is that why my daughter was unsuccessful waking him?”


“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”


His smile was as cold as the steel in his gaze. “You will stay here until I decide what to do with you, Daoine Maithe. Test me and you’ll find no mercy.”


The guards shoved her hard and she fell back against the bench as the royal jerk and his minions made their exit. She rubbed at her tweaked shoulder muscles as the door banged closed and the lock shot home again.


Rolling to her knees, she brushed grit from her hands. So much for honor. Mercy? Test him or not, she would find none here. He didn’t have any in him. Her eyes rose to the tiny vent holes at the ceiling. No escape there. Breaths beyond the door gave testament to the royal suspicion she wasn’t going to take this sitting down. A grim smile touched her mouth. How right he was.


The sandy grit from the floor clung to her palms, scraping at her flesh. Aislinn paused, staring at the tiny bits of stone and then closed her eyes. Around her, she could feel heartbeats and the puffs of air that spoke of lives. Too many to the front through the door, but only a scattered few behind her. Easing backward on her knees, she laid a hand against the wall and reached. Layers of stone met her questing senses, air shifting on night breezes through narrow shafts. Halls? More cells? A plan began to percolate at the back of her mind and she sat back on her heels, studying the wall.


The stone was a hand-span thick and solid with no seams to offer weaknesses. She glanced back at the door and the temptation of the lock but gave up that line of thinking without much debate. The more people gathered, the greater her chances of discovery.


Air rose, swirling in a gentle tempest of power, drawing the sand from the floor. She aimed the broad mouth of the vortex at the stone and settled herself to wait.


Time eased by with no interruptions, only the soft hum of sand against stone. No one came to check on her and there was no sign of Rowan or his friends. She could only hope that they were safe for the moment. The king had focused on her, her magic making her the target. The humans wouldn’t pose the same kind of threat and that might be the only thing that kept them safe.


Hours drifted. She dozed, half-aware of the paths of the moons overhead as they lowered toward the horizon. The sun was tugging at the rim of the world when the first faint sounds of shifting gravel roused her. She checked her progress and sat back, satisfied, the sand drifting back to the floor.


A push moved a block of stone from the wall and into the hall that ran behind her cell. No one was about. Aislinn quickly wriggled through the small opening.


Dark enfolded her. She took a moment to push the stone back into place and tried to get her bearings.


Rowan?


The Whisper drifted, seeking him. It took a moment and then he was there.


“Aislinn? Where are you?”


I just left my gracious accommodations. I’m coming to find you so no heroics, Rowan Changeling. There’s a limit to how much trouble I can get you out of. She had a lock on him now and, with one hand on the wall to guide her, she began to walk.


“Ash, Caine and Trevor can’t hear you. Care to include them in this so they stop looking at me like I’m insane?”


Are they ready for that?  She glanced around, barely able to make out anything in this darkness. Ahead, she could feel an open area and a scattering of heartbeats. So far, all they’ve managed to figure out is that I have a uterus. The rest might be more than they can handle.


She didn’t expand the Whisper. Rowan was the only one she cared to talk to. His friends could think what they liked.


“They’re going to have deal with it, aren’t they?” His sigh sounded weary. “All right, so they didn’t take to Wheezer so well, but there are things they’re going to have to learn to accept. Full disclosure aids cooperation, you know.”


She shook her head. More likely, those two would have one taste of her magic and lump her in with the Dökkálfar. Her wings would probably send them into a panic.


Fine, she shot back, widening the Whisper to include his friends. But if they go nuts, that’s on you, my friend.


They panicked but at least they did it quietly.  Aislinn rolled her eyes at the flurry of consternation on the other end. Like Wheezer, they didn’t have an explanation for her and they were poorly equipped to handle what Rowan told them. Fairies? No, there must be some other explanation. Fairies don’t exist. Magic? Can’t be. Science is the only magic in these parts. Listening to them left her with a burning question.


Rowan? Were you that bad when you first came to the Realms?


“I plead my right to refuse to answer on the grounds of self-defamation.”


A chuckle rose in her chest, laughter lighting her heart for the first time in weeks. Goddess, how she’d missed him, growly face and all.


Ahead, the hall widened into a juncture with other halls, all leading off to parts unknown. Light filtered down from openings high above and Aislinn paused in the shadows, scanning the area for trouble. Guards stood at attention at the mouth of each hall and another pair kept watch from the center. Taking them all on was out of the question but how to get them out of her way?


The hall to Rowan lay directly across from where she now stood.  There would be no sneaking across under their noses. Even if she had that sort of power, the glamour would be obvious to their magical senses. She needed a more direct method of getting them out of her way.


Taking a deep breath, she leaned against the wall and closed her eyes. The air here was sluggish, full of metallic grit that interfered with her control. Not as much ventilation, she noted absently even as she stirred a brisk breeze and sent it ruffling down the hall to the left. Something metal tumbled over with a crash and shouts of surprise and shock echoed. The guards at the mouth of the hall vanished toward the mayhem, several others following them at a slower pace.


Half the guards gone but that wasn’t going to be enough. Another push of air and something tore, adding to the furor, and she smelled smoke. More guards rushed the hall, calling for help.


A pair of guards hung back, gazing suspiciously around them. Aislinn sighed. Of course this wouldn’t be easy. She sent a drift of air eddying down a different hall to shush through the sand on the floor. The two guards edged toward the faint sound, weapons at the ready and stepped into hall.


Finally.


Aislinn hurried as quickly and quietly across the expanse as she could manage. The guards might be distracted but that wouldn’t last long.


This hall wound a bit, taking sharp turns and then splitting into several halls that, when she stopped to check, rejoined again down the way. As much as she wanted to, she didn’t dare Whisper Rowan again. It wouldn’t take long before someone would wise up and start checking other flows of magic outside of the stone that ruled this place. Instead, she picked her way carefully, keeping alert for any sign of returning guards.


The arguing led her to the right door in time to hear Rowan snarling at his friends to be quiet. The door was bolted but the hasp of the lock was loose. The first tug plunged the cell into silence. Two more jiggled the lock free and she opened the door to three sets of wary eyes.


“Aislinn.” Rowan surged from the bed, shoving between the other two.


For a moment she couldn’t breathe, could do nothing but stand there and take him in. The longer hair softened his blunt features but took nothing away from the intensity of his golden gaze.


Apparently, he wasn’t as struck by the sight of her. He wrapped his arms around her and lifted her against him, burying his face in her hair. She was clinging to him, she realized suddenly, her arms tight around his neck. She forced herself to pull back as reality reared its ugly head.


“We have to get out of here.”


“Ash,” he started but she cut him off.


“Explanations later. I don’t know how much longer before the king decides to pay me another visit.”


His expression darkened and he let her go with obvious reluctance. The other two were staring at them but Aislinn only shook her head.


“Explanations later. Come on.” After a quick look both ways, she led them into the hall. “There’s a junction that way but there’re a lot of guards. I’d rather do this quietly, if you don’t mind.”


“Is there another way out?” Rowan stayed close. A jerk of his head sent one man to the front, the other hanging back behind.


“I haven’t checked. In fact, I haven’t dared do a lot of anything here. Their magic is too close to my own earth senses for comfort.”


“How have you been checking?”


“Air.” She shrugged, ignoring the odd glances of his friends. “I can sense their breath moving, where vents in the stone let in air from outside, how it moves through halls. It’s not as exact as knowing where their bodies are or sensing their heartbeats, but it works. Speaking of which, we need to get moving.”


She could feel the guards returning to their posts at the junction of hallways. One moved to take his post mere yards from where they stood. She laid her finger over her lips to keep her companions silent and edged away from the cell. The shorter soldier carefully closed the cell door and poked the lock back through the broken hasp where it hung crookedly. It wasn’t perfect by any means, but it might stall any search for them for a short time.


They headed away from the junction, Aislinn kept her senses wide for company of the unfriendly variety. The soldiers illuminated dim lights on their armor, lighting the way. Occasionally, a purple beetle would scuttle out of their way to vanish into a crevice invisible to the eye. Another tangle of halls and disjointed junctions came and went, winding through stone like the veins of a giant beast.


Air stirred ahead of them, a cooler, moisture laden breeze touched her cheeks. A way out or just a vent shaft? She reached to test the air and jerked back, shoving at the men behind her, pushing them into the black of a hall behind them. Rowan’s hiss pulled the lead man back with them and retreated around the corner, extinguishing their lights as a small troop of heavily armed guards marched past.


Rowan curved an arm around her waist and Aislinn leaned into him. For the first time since she’d leaped into the future on a hope and a wish, something inside of her settled and clicked home. He was alive and seemed fairly happy to see her. That was enough for now until they had a bit of time and privacy to hash out the rest.


Angry voices drifted from the guards, a rush of metallic magic slicing through stone. Aislinn edged back, away from the mouth of the hall and deeper into the darkness. Whatever she’d set fire to back at the junction, it was rousing a bit of a furor.


Air touched her senses. Not night air from outside. Not a breath. This was colder, a flurry where heat had been stolen entirely. She turned away from the hall with a frown and patted Rowan’s arm. He let her go slowly, making no sound but she could feel the argument he swallowed. Edging past the other man, she stepped deeper into the dark. The chill grew with every step. It was nothing she’d encountered before but there was something familiar about it all the same.


The hall extended some ways and she was grateful when Trevor—or maybe it was Caine—re-lit the light on his armor and led the way. No one asked her what was she was doing which was good. She didn’t know if she could explain it. Curiosity led her feet down the graying stone with no halls or doors.


At the end of the hall, a single door stood, imbedded in the stone. Straps wrapped the frame and slats, and a huge lock clamped resolutely in the middle. Iron poisoned the air but Aislinn could feel the faint stirrings of breath on the other side of the wall. Whoever was in there, the Dökkálfar didn’t intend for them to ever get out.


“I need to get in there,” she murmured, more to herself than anyone else. Rowan stirred, a warm presence at her back.


“Can you get that lock off?”


She shook her head. “Iron.”


“You can tell that by looking at it?” the tall man asked.


“I’d be a dead Fae indeed if I couldn’t recognize iron,” she told him dryly.


“Trevor, can you do anything with that thing?”


Rowan overrode any questions her comment might have engendered. The tall man shrugged and moved to the door to inspect the lock. So, the tall one was Trevor and the short one was Caine. Good to know since there hadn’t been time yet for introductions.


“Simple tumbler and pin,” Trevor rumbled. A click and something metal extended from the fingertip of his gauntlet. He inserted it into the lock and jiggled it around a moment. The lock fell free in his hand and his turned, his grin triumphant. He held out the lock to Aislinn.


She stumbled back, trying to get as far away from the dark metal as she could. Rowan intercepted the lock and set on the ground far to the side of the door.


“You can’t touch iron?” Trevor was decidedly curious.


“Oh, I can touch it but dying would make my recent trip rather pointless don’t you think?” She snapped at him, hating the way her heart jerked in her chest. She hated being afraid of something but this was one battle she would never win.


“Dying makes a great many things pointless,” Rowan muttered. Moving around her, he stepped past the still curious Trevor to pull the door open.


The dark inside the cell was absolute. Aislinn stepped cautiously into the doorway. Breath moved the air and then a surge of wind took her off her feet. A slight figure landed on her, hands clamped tight on her face. Something grabbed onto the power within her and pulled. Aislinn couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, as her magic, the very life in veins, flowed out of her. She heard Rowan’s shout and felt the figure being pulled off her. It took her a moment to catch her breath.


“Don’t,” she managed to croak. “Don’t hurt her.”


Rowan knelt beside her, helping her sit. Behind Trevor and Caine, the bird-fragile figure struggled to get free, still intent on Aislinn.


“Don’t hurt her,” she repeated. “She’s my aunt.”