Dark Faery II: The Mercifuls (DarkFaery Book 2) Read online

  Mr. Whitethorn picked up his pipe and busied himself with refilling it as if Flynn had ceased to exist.

  Flynn left the house and returned to the woods, but Simon had gone. He was surprised. He thought the Vampyre would be anxious to gloat. He flitted off to the cave where Lana greeted him with a smile.

  “I’m glad to see you,” she said. “How is your family?”

  “Well, thank you. Is Simon in?”

  “Yes. He’s expecting you.”

  “Did he just get back?” Flynn asked.

  “Get back?” Lana asked. “Was he supposed to go somewhere?”

  “No, I – never mind,” he said, and went to Simon’s office.

  “So, has your father agreed?” Simon asked from behind his desk. He was reading something and didn’t bother to look up. “Is he outraged that Vampyres have been sullying your soul?”

  “You know I didn’t tell him. You knew I couldn’t.”

  Simon looked up. “And what use is a sullen boy to me? I want a musician, not a spoiled child.”

  “I’m not a spoiled child!” Flynn shouted. Simon gazed at him as a cow would look at a pasture. He seemed in no way disturbed by Flynn’s outburst. Of course, he could kill him as easily as teach him, but it didn’t seem to matter which he actually did.

  “We all hate our makers at times,” Simon said, returning to his reading.

  “You’re not my maker – at least not yet.”

  “Then the hope that you’ll become one of us isn’t yet dead?”

  “I –”

  Simon stared directly at the boy. “Flynn, you rail at me and yet it was the goddess, not I, who took your sister. Do you rail against her? Would you dare? I think you’d shudder to your very core at the thought. And yet one before you who could snuff you out with more or less suffering than your sister had as the whim suits me, to that person you don’t hesitate to make threats when you should be on your knees thanking me that no disease, no plague will ever touch you.”

  Flynn stared at Simon, shocked. “You mean I can’t become ill?”

  “No. Well, it’s possible, but it’s more difficult for you than for other Faery.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s a benefit of being a thrall. The more often I take your blood, the less likely it is for you to become ill. I suppose my bite gives a certain protection from disease.”

  Flynn blinked, letting the information settle in his brain.

  “So are you still determined to dishonor your oath?”

  Flynn hung his head. “I’m sorry.”

  “You should always look folk in the eye when you apologize. That way they know you’re sincere.”

  Flynn squared his shoulders and looked at Simon. “I’m sorry,” he said.

  Simon nodded. “I think hornpipe tonight,” he said and Flynn retrieved the instrument from the cupboard where he stored it. Together they went to the practice room where Caelen, Aranck and Harry were rehearsing.

  “The prodigal returns!” Harry said joyfully. Flynn was relieved that the others didn’t know of his argument with Simon. Within moments he was ready to rehearse.

  16

  Samhain had passed without the usual celebrations, for many were ill, including one or two of the priestesses, and those who were well were too weary from caring for the sick. So the holiday passed unremarked, and any of the dead who wished to commune with the living would have to wait another year.

  November was another blur of activity with caring for the sick. Folk finally allowed loved ones to be sent into the afterlife with others. Husband and wife, brother and sister, uncle and cousin. Pyres for twos or threes, and sometimes more than one funeral in a day became expected. But as November faded, the illness began to abate. Those who had so far remained healthy stayed that way, and fewer lost their lives. At last, it seemed, the goddess was sated.

  Meanwhile, Flynn continued to practice with Shauna Faun, learning from them, becoming comfortable with all of them, and again yearning to be part of the group.

  Simon, while he treated Flynn no differently than he ever had, watched the boy in a guarded way, as if he hadn’t quite forgiven the threat to expose the Vampyres. Flynn tried to forget about his argument with Simon, but the fact that Simon had never punished him in any way hung over him.

  After rehearsal one night, Flynn hung back after most of the others had gone off about their business. Simon, Fiona and Aranck stood off to one side, deep in quiet conversation. Simon knew he was there, of that Flynn was certain. Finally the master Vampyre turned, a smile on his face.

  “Well, Flynn, I’m glad you stayed.” Flynn noticed the other two looked at him from behind Simon. Since he very much wanted to speak with Simon in private, this annoyed him.

  “Why is that?”

  “We’ve decided that since the crisis is past among your people, the time has come to make you one of us.”

  “Now? Tonight?” Flynn asked, alarmed. He’d hoped to say goodbye to his family and make whatever arrangements were necessary.

  Simon laughed. “Sometimes you are so literal, my friend. No. We like to have a bit of ritual, some ceremony involved in bringing someone over. It’s a major event.”

  “Oh. When, then?”

  “The winter solstice. Fitting, don’t you think? Death and rebirth.”

  “Oh. But we won’t be out with everyone else at the celebrations, will we?”

  “Actually, we will,” Simon replied, a smile slowly suffusing his face.

  Flynn looked shocked. “In front of my family? Would the priestess even allow –”

  Simon laughed outright. “Not in front of everyone. But at the festival. We will go to the festival. You and I will wander off to a secluded place. You could not be near folk afterwards. It would be too dangerous. But when the fires are doused, before the New Year’s lights are lit you will be one of us. Then we will all have cause to celebrate the coming of the New Year. Besides, the darkest day is our biggest celebration.”

  Simon was elated by the idea. But he noticed Flynn looked serious.

  “I’m sure this must be frightening to you.”

  “It’s not that. I wanted to apologize for the way I acted before.”

  “You apologized for that at the time. I don’t hold grudges.”

  “It seemed like you were watching me.”

  “I have been. I wanted to be sure you still wanted to be one of us. I’m sorry for the loss of your sister. I’m glad the rest of your family was spared.”

  Flynn didn’t expect that. For some reason he expected that Simon didn’t care about other light Faeries.

  “Thank you,” he said.

  “I trust you’ll make whatever excuses to your family. You won’t be able to see them at least until you’re under control. Perhaps a year. I’ll leave you to it, and you can have free time until the day before the solstice.”

  With that Flynn went home. He had a week of freedom.

  He told his parents he was finished his apprenticeship. They thought it too soon.

  “Not even a year,” his father said.

  “Simon was impressed with how quickly I learned,” Flynn replied.

  At the news he would be officially welcomed into Shauna Faun the night of the winter solstice, his mother was concerned.

  “Then you won’t celebrate with us?”

  “I’ll be there until the fires go out. Then I’m meeting Simon and the others. We leave on a tour the next day. I’ll be there. I’ll celebrate half with you and half with them.”

  “It’s traditional for a master to formally accept someone as journeyman.”

  “He’ll probably come and talk to you himself. He doesn’t tell me his plans.”

  “When will we see you again?” his mother asked.

  “It depends on how long the tour is. I don’t have details. But I’ll write.”

  Flynn was excited when he talked to his friends about joining the band. They couldn’t wait to see him on stage, they told him. But in his private moments alo
ne, he was scared. This was it: the final decision. After solstice everything would be different.

  He wondered what it would be like visiting his family once he was in control, and then realized with a sinking feeling that he would never be able to do that. Vampyre Faeries a hundred years old still had difficulty around him. What chance did he have to see his family ever again without killing them? No, Simon had given him this week to make memories that would last for eternity.

  He noticed more now. Individual smiles were not entire faces, but pieces: smirks and grins, some eyes crinkling, some smiles not reaching eyes. When someone scolded there were lines and creases to the forehead, and different folk used different amounts of their faces to make their displeasure known.

  He wondered if the Dark Faery saw things this way. Silly, he wasn’t Dark Faery yet. He couldn’t really know what they perceived. He thought maybe his fear made him try to figure out what things would be like for him later.

  Simon waited a few days before he called on Flynn’s family. When he did arrive, he knocked on the door and Mrs. Whitethorn answered. He bowed graciously to her.

  “Good evening, Mrs. Whitethorn.”

  “Good evening, Mr. Mallow,” she replied. “Come in.”

  He entered the house. “May I express my condolences on the loss of your daughter? I apologize for not coming sooner. Unfortunately, business kept me away.”

  “I quite understand. And you didn’t know our Ella.”

  “Still –”

  “Do you wish to speak to my husband?” she asked, and he was relieved that she didn’t wish to extol the virtues of her late daughter as if he were a suitor.

  “Yes, please. Your son has reached the conclusion of his studies with me.”

  She beamed and nodded, bade him sit, and went off to find her husband.

  They both returned a few moments later, and Simon rose to greet Mr. Whitethorn.

  “Good to see you, Simon,” Mr. Whitethorn said. “I understand you have completed training my son?”

  “Yes. He was a very apt student. He has been studying with each of my musicians in turn, and all say that he knows as much as any of us. So now we want to officially welcome him into Shauna Faun.”

  “I see.”

  “I thought the upcoming Solstice would be a good time. He will start with you and your family, and then come with us to celebrate. Unfortunately, we have a concert tour that begins the next day, so he’ll be away for some time. But we didn’t want him to miss the opportunity to tour with us. We never know how many tours we might be able to do or when our popularity will wane.”

  “I’ve heard of your band for years. I can’t imagine anyone taking your place.”

  Simon smiled and looked at the floor for a moment. “I would that our popularity was eternal, but folk tire of things. Still, Flynn is anxious to come with us, and I would indulge him in this. He’s a fine musician. At some point he may even surpass the rest of us. He has it in him.”

  “Those are fine words for a father to hear,” Mr. Whitethorn said. “Shall we drink to the completion of his apprenticeship?”

  “We should, indeed,” Simon replied.

  Mrs. Whitethorn went off to get the fine wine and call Flynn in to the celebration. She returned not only with her son, but also with the wine and four goblets. She filled each and handed them around.

  “To Flynn’s new life,” Mr. Whitethorn said.

  “To Flynn’s new life,” the others echoed.

  Flynn wondered what his father’s reaction would be if he knew the truth of the toast.

  He didn’t worry about Simon drinking with the family this time. When they had all finished their wine, he collected the goblets and did the washing up for his mother. She was surprised by his mature behavior, but grateful. He felt secure that he’d safely hidden Simon’s secret.

  When Simon and Mr. Whitethorn had finished their conversation, Simon took his leave, promising to see them in a few days’ time at the Solstice celebration.

  17

  Winter solstice: the shortest day. The sun took its time making an appearance. When it did the dim, watery light through filmy clouds threatened snow.

  Flynn awoke earlier than usual. He yawned and stretched, then realized this was his last day alive. Fear mixed with excitement as he left his bed and dressed. This was it. Everything today had to be recorded in his memory for future remembrance.

  He came into the kitchen in the morning, and his mother bustled about to make breakfast, remarking that he was up early. He wasn’t hungry, but he’d have to explain his lack of appetite if he didn’t eat. He sat at the table and focused on a conversation with his mother rather than the food he put in his mouth.

  “Are you excited about playing with the band?” his mother asked.

  “Yes,” he said. “I’m looking forward to it.”

  “I’d be frightened to death if I had to perform on stage.”

  “I’m a little nervous about it, but Simon told me everything will be fine, and the others are really supportive.”

  His mother smiled and cupped his cheek in her hand.

  “You’ve always been a good boy, and I know music is your passion. I’ll miss you, but I’m sure you’ll do well. Even Simon was pleased with your progress.”

  He blinked quickly to keep back tears. This would be difficult enough without his mother going sentimental on him. The one thing he could not allow himself to think was, I’m going to die tonight.

  Breakfast over, Flynn made the rounds of his village to see his friends one last time before the “tour”. Everyone had a holiday or at least a half-holiday on Solstice. His friends were excited for him, and a few asked for his autograph because they said he might not give it once he was famous. He laughed at that, but gave it freely.

  Once he said his goodbyes to his friends, he went to his father’s office. The dedicated doctor was taking stock of his medications and making sure everything was in order. It was almost a superstition with him that things had to be in perfect order before the summer and winter solstices.

  Flynn began helping his father, knowing how he liked his things placed. Mr. Whitethorn smiled, pleased that his son had finally acquired the maturity to take his time to do things correctly.

  “I know you’ll do well, Flynn, but you know we’ll all miss you.”

  “I know. I’ll miss everyone, too. But this is what I want.”

  “I wish you well. All the luck in the world.”

  It felt like his father was talking to a stranger.

  They walked home together. The whole family was gathered when they arrived: Flynn’s two older brothers and their families and his remaining sister. The family usually got together for Solstice, but it seemed to Flynn like a huge goodbye party.

  His siblings teased him through dinner about finally taking on some responsibility and that, before he knew it, he’d have a wife and family. Flynn thought about Caelen. If she liked him he might someday have a wife, but there would never be children.

  Soon it was time to go to the celebration and Flynn grabbed his bag. Families were gathered together in the village of the Benevolent Clan. Flynn saw Teilo Feather and his family, and went to greet them.

  “Flynn, isn’t it?” Teilo asked after Flynn said hello.

  “Yes. I see you and your family came through the sickness unscathed.”

  “We came through it, but not unscathed. My daughter, Dawn was stricken.”

  “I’m sorry to hear it,” Flynn replied.

  “Your brother, Bowden, is a fine physician. His elixir cured her, I believe. Are all of your family well?”

  “All but one. We lost my sister, Ella to the sickness.”

  I am sorry to hear of it,” Teilo said.

  “Have you chosen a profession?” Jessica asked, and Teilo looked at her sharply. It wasn’t their business, and Teilo didn’t want to know if Flynn had chosen Simon.

  “I have. I’m –”

  Just then Cara approached Flynn. “Mother is loo
king for you,” she said.

  “Excuse me,” Flynn said and flitted off with his sister.

  Flynn was relieved to return with his sister. While it would have been rude to pretend he hadn’t seen Teilo, he didn’t want their disapproval of his choice of profession. And he wanted as much time with his family as possible. He didn’t want to waste precious time arguing.

  Children ran about and people from the various clans renewed acquaintances. Finally, midnight approached. Flynn was playing with one of his nephews when he saw Simon flit down from a nearby tree. He stood with his back to where the priestesses gathered in the grove. He was far enough away from them that they wouldn’t sense him.

  Simon greeted Flynn and his parents. They introduced him to the members of the family he hadn’t met: Gareth and his wife, Talitha and their son Geraint; Bowden and his wife, Saffron and their children, Brefni and Solange; and Cara.

  “I’m pleased to make your acquaintance. I’m afraid I must take Flynn with us.”

  “Where are the others?” Mr. Whitethorn asked.

  “They are on the other side of the grove. They thought it would be better if I came myself. Many of our fans are here and –”

  “Of course. I understand.”

  The Whitethorns hugged their son and everyone wished him well. Then he went on his way with Simon, flitting up and off in the opposite direction from the priestesses. When they arrived at a dip in the landscape behind a tree, just beyond where the revelers were, they landed. No one would disturb them here.

  Flynn looked around. “Where are the others?”

  “They’re not here. Would you want witnesses who might tear you limb from limb for the sake of your blood?”

  “But you told my father –”

  “They will join us later. Don’t look so frightened. I will take good care of you.”

  “So, what do I do?” Flynn asked.

  The pyre was doused and there was a hush within the grove. People had gone silent to watch the runner go off to the mountain. Atop the mountain the new flame would be kindled, but for the moment all was darkness. Flynn and Simon were in a knoll below the grove, and the rising land hid the smell of Faery that had filled Simon as he wandered among them. All eyes were turned in the opposite direction from the Vampyre.