The Lost Child Read online

  Tell me this does not suggest… possibilities.”

  “Please do not refer to me as ‘it’,” I said, frowning.

  Irritatingly they were not going to continue their discussion while I was there to overhear it. I was not sure if it would be any use to me , but right now I had to learn everything I could, as who knew what might eventually be turned to my advantage?

  “What do you want with me?” I asked.

  “Oh, I daresay we’ll come up with something.” The Darrig smiled nastily. “You and that Fae friend of yours.”

  “Why does everyone think we’re friends?”

  The Fir Darrig laughed. “Ah yes, the old rivalry between Sinjin Sinclair and Dureau Chevalier. You forget, Master Vampire, that I lived among your people for weeks while you were in Africa.”

  “Yes, I admit, I had quite forgotten that,” I grumbled.

  “I know your friends and I know your world. I know you and he both loved the same woman and you won that contest. I know that when Bryn, your bête noir, first found she was pregnant, you assumed Chevalier to be the father. Do you still wonder that at times? He is, after all, handsome and strong. They do spend a lot of time together. And they have so much more in common than you and Bryn. Would you really know if he knocked her up behind your back?”

  It made me ashamed to recall that I had ever entertained such suspicions, but they were things of the past.

  “If I can put your mind at rest,” the Fir Darrig went on, apparently enjoying the sound of its own voice, “the child is yours. I have ascertained this myself.” He turned back to his Court. “The child, mark you, of a Master Vampire and an Elemental.”

  “Do you ever shut up?” I asked. “All you do is blather on like a bleating goat, looking for its mother.”

  The Darrig levelled its fearful face at me. “Does it bother you that I could have you skinned alive here and now and there is nothing you could do to stop it? Does that worry you?”

  “Would worrying about it help my cause?”

  The Fir Darrig barked a sharp laugh. “Don’t concern yourself. I have more pleasant games in mind. We’ve seen enough, take it away.”

  As I was marched out of the room, I could hear the discussion starting up again.

  “What was that supposed to prove?” someone asked.

  “That he is a Master Vampire. Perhaps the most powerful in the world,” the Darrig responded.

  “So?”

  I was passing out of earshot, but I needed to hear this, no matter what it cost. Moving fast, I shoulder barged one of the Redcaps then headbutted the other in the face.

  “That vampire is the pinnacle of darkness in its world. A bloodsucker with six centuries at its back,” the Darrig went on.

  The giant grinned as it swung a fist at me—clearly, it had been hoping for an opportunity such as this one. I ducked and tried to run, pretending I had forgotten about the manacles chaining my ankles together.

  “And the mother? An Elemental. A point of brightness. The favored daughter of Luce until she defected to the Underworld.”

  I hit the floor, my ribs screaming with the impact. The giant loomed above me, grinning with sadistic pleasure. “You know what happens to bad little boys.”

  “Light and Dark, my friends,” the Darrig said. “Everyone in this room knows it is in the balance of light and dark that real power lies. And this child is the confluence, the product of pure dark and pure light, or at least as pure as we’ve ever seen. Do you understand what that means?”

  “No,” replied one of the Court.

  As the giant worked me over in the corridor, I strove not to black out, listening to the conversation in the chamber even as my ears rang with the blows that pummeled me.

  “I don’t know either,” the Darrig continued. “This is a power the like s of which we have never seen before and may never learn fully how to harness. But it should be ours. With that child in our grasp, there would be nothing the Seelie Court could level at us. Faery would be ours again and the other land would be our playground once more. Tell me that is not worth chasing after.”

  The giant pulled me back to my feet, bleeding from nose, lips and ears.

  “This is all guesswork ,” said a voice from the chamber. “You said it yourself; you don’t know what power the child even has.”

  “Besides,” said another voice, “ the escaped party will be out of the mountains soon and out of Faery in a day or so. If we pursue them into the other land, the Seelie Court will turn us inside out. And if your precious baby doesn’t have the power you imagine, that will be that.”

  “You’re on your own on this one, Darrig.”

  I smiled through my bloodied face. Not only did I know the Darrig’s plan, but I also knew his own ‘allies’ weren’t willing to go through with it. That was worth taking another beating for.

  EIGHTEEN

  SINJIN

  Now that I could be reasonably sure that Bryn and our daughter were both safe , along with Odran and Klassje too, my mind turned more fully to my own situation. As I was dragged back to my cell, I started to think about how I could use the information I had learned to my advantage. Frankly, none of it meant a great deal as long as there was a door between us and freedom, but if you took the door out of the equation, then perhaps there was light at the end of the tunnel.

  Reaching the cell, that light vanished again.

  I looked around my empty room. “Where is…”

  The slam of the door cut me off. Chevalier was gone and I did not know where he had been taken nor if he would be returning. I slumped down by the wall. The fop’s blood was still doing its good work through my body, and my new injuries were already starting to heal.

  Why would they have taken him out? It did not seem as if they had anything to learn from us; they had not even asked me any questions. The options did not seem good, and I began to wonder if I would ever see Chevalier again.

  I was relieved, and somewhat surprised, therefore when, a few hours later (I thought, time passed slowly in the cell), the door

  opened and Chevalier was hurled back in. He sat up as he landed, rubbing his head where he bumped it.

  “The Redcaps are not gentlemen.”

  “Where were you? What did they want?” I asked.

  He gave a humorless smile. “They were bored. I was diverting.”

  He rubbed his torso gingerly.

  “I a m sorry.”

  Chevalier’s eyes flashed. “Don’t start apologizing now. I came on this jaunt of my own free will, Sinjin. A child was in danger.

  And even if she weren’t, do you think there’s anything I wouldn’t do to help Bryn?”

  Though I tried hard to suppress it, a flare of anger sparked within me at hearing him speak of Bryn, my Bryn, like that. But, I kept my mouth shut.

  “What did they want with you?” Chevalier asked.

  “Our most gracious host wanted to show me off to his Court,” I replied. “I seem to be of some interest to them as the father of a child. There is no longer any doubt my child is what they are interested in.”

  “Really?” Chevalier looked interested. “Did they let anything slip about why?”

  “I managed to hang around in the hall long enough to eavesdrop.”

  Chevalier nodded. “That was clever of you. Did you hear anything worth hearing?”

  I related what I had heard and Chevalier nodded. He seemed pleased to know this information.

  “Well, it sounds as if Bryn is safe. That’s a mercy.”

  Why did he only mention Bryn? Why not our child? Why not Klassje, his girlfriend? Was he deliberately trying to irritate me?

  “So the Fir Darrig thinks your child has some sort of power , but he can’t go after the baby because the rest of his Court won’t wear it.”

  I nodded. “That seems to be the situation.”

  “Mightn’t he go after the baby himself?”

  “I had thought of that,” I nodded. “He has been to Kinloch Kirk before, knows
everyone. And he could disguise himself as anyone.

  But I think the residents of Kinloch would be alert to him now, after last time. I am sure Mathilda and Mercedes would be on the lookout. And remember, Bryn got the better of him, saw straight through him, thus I am not sure he would risk that again. Not by himself.”

  “She is quite a woman,” Chevalier mused, once again making me wonder if he was deliberately goading me. “Where does this leave us?”

  “In a locked cell with no means of escape unless they let us out.

  I think our best hope is the Redcaps. Seems to me as if the Court is breaking up again already. Now that the child is gone, it seems none of the rest of them are willing to support the Darrig.

  Thus, there is nothing keeping them here.”

  “So the Fir Darrig will have to rely more on the Redcaps to look after us.”

  I nodded. “And we can most assuredly take those little buggers out.”

  Chevalier sighed. “Not exactly a plan, but it will do for now.”

  “It is the best we have got.”

  “Does rather depend on what they plan to do with us.”

  I nodded. “The Darrig implied it had some plans.”

  That evening, we learned more about the Darrig’s plans. Again, it was the giant who came to fetch us—it might not be agile or a particularly skilled fighter, but as long as we were manacled, we were unable to run, and in brute strength it could easily overwhelm us.

  “Welcome, favored guests.” The Darrig’s thin, ugly grin split its face as we were marched into the council chamber. The center of the room had been cleared and the Unseelie Court all sat around the sides as an audience.

  “We have been discussing the possibilities of how we might go about making your stay more entertaining , for us, that is. And we thought that, given your fraught personal history, we should really give you both a chance to do what you’ve always wanted to.”

  The Redcaps took off our manacles and I looked about for an exit, but the giant stood before the only one, holding its club threateningly.

  “What do you want?” I asked.

  The Darrig threw up its skinny, clawed hands. “Isn’t obvious? We want you to fight.”

  “Who?” asked Chevalier, rather slow on the uptake, I thought.

  The Darrig cackled with laughter. “Why, each other of course. Not to the death; we are not barbarians, are we?” he asked as he looked about the room and everyone laughed, minus the fop and me.

  “Don’t tell me you’ve never thought about it. Both in love with the same woman; one of you got her and yet still manages to remain jealous. Don’t tell me you haven’t dreamed of a chance like this. We’re giving you license to live your dreams, to deliver the punch on the nose that you’ve always wanted.”

  Chevalier and I looked at each other, reading each other’s thoughts. Truth be told, the Fir Darrig was not one hundred percent wrong. I had not done it for a while, but back when Chevalier was more actively pursuing Bryn, I had certainly had the odd dream where I pounded the foppish Fae into a pulp. Those dreams were largely a thing of the past, but I still, from time to time, thought about punching him in the face.

  I did not think th is it was all my fault; Chevalier, to my mind, just had one of those faces that bore punching, or at least slapping. Every pretentious word out of his mouth was begging for someone, preferably me, to knock him off his feet. And every time he looked at Bryn, I felt the desire to break his nose.

  Perhaps I had no reason to feel jealous; Bryn had made her choice and Chevalier was now with Klassje. But those emotions die hard, particularly when the offending party is one you did not like to begin with. Sometimes friends, or men who otherwise could have been friends, are torn apart by their love for a woman. This was decidedly not the case with myself and Chevalier. We would have disliked one another regardless, but Bryn just served as a catalyst, like a lightning rod directing our dislike into outright hatred.

  These were not feeling s of which I was proud, but I took some solace in the fact that I knew they were not one-sided. Chevalier had every bit as much disdain for me as I had for him. Once again, Bryn was the focus, and I could understand how the man who failed to win the woman would be somewhat chagrined. But, once again, she was only part of it; he disliked me as I disliked him.

  We were very different people.

  But we would not fight.

  We might not be friends, we might not even like one another other, but we were on the same side, and we were civilized and respectful. Thus, we would not fight for the pleasure of these onlookers.

  We were also not stupid, and we both knew it was not going to be so easy.

  I spoke first. “What if we say no?”

  The Unseelie Court laughed.

  “That is not an option,” sneered the Darrig.

  “If we refuse to fight one another, then you don’t have the entertainment you’re after… so why would we?” asked Chevalier.

  “Neither Sinclair nor I want to appease you in any way.”

  He was quite right about that.

  The Fir Darrig sighed and shook its head. “Sometimes I do not understand people. I am giving you permission to do something you both want to do and yet, you refuse. I explained you don’t have to kill each other and yet you force the issue.” He threw his little hands into the air. “I don’t know what you expect to achieve. But fine, if you are insistent on me being the bad guy then I will torture one of you until you agree to fight. How does that sound?”

  “Do you mind if I ask why?” I asked.

  The Darrig smiled. “It will amuse me.”

  I looked at Chevalier again and he gave a little shrug. What choice did we have? He was brave, I had to grudgingly give him that. He knew that, as a vampire, I was stronger and faster than he. I would have to be careful; I did not want to hurt him.

  “Looks as though we face no other choice,” Chevalier said.

  “I do not wish to see you tortured,” I responded. “And I certainly do not wish to be the subject of even more.”

  “Agreed.”

  I made the first move, diving for Chevalier, who sidestepped, shoving me away from him. I took a swing and he ducked. He kicked at me and I fell back.

  “None of that!” yelled the Fir Darrig. “I don’t want to see any fakery. You fight like you mean it or you’ll regret it.”

  I rounded on the Darrig. “If we fight like we mean it, then I shall kill him and you said we were not to do that.”

  “Oh, is that right?” Chevalier asked. “You’ll kill me?”

  I faced him and frowned. “Clearly, this is not a fair fight. I am quite superior to you in strength and speed.”

  Chevalier said nothing but simply hit me, hurling his full weight at me and taking me to the floor. I had not been expecting it and the fop took me completely by surprise.

  With a growl, I threw him off me and dived after, but the fop caught me by surprise again, kicking up at me with both feet as I came at him, winding me. Perhaps I was still a beat slow after the back-to-back beatings I had suffered, or perhaps I had always underestimated the frog, but he was fighting well, stronger and faster than I had anticipated. Without meaning to, I went up a gear.

  The Darrig and the others roared with laughter and cheering. I was not certain which of us they were rooting for.

  When my fist landed , I felt the damage. Chevalier’s face went sideways, spitting blood, and the scent of it inflamed me further. No matter how civilized we become, vampires are always part animal, and those urges are hard to control, especially in a fight.

  He swung at me again and again, but I easily avoided his fists, then drove my own into his belly, doubling him up before smacking my elbow down into the small of his back, laying him out on the floor.

  In my head I heard his words earlier about Bryn. I remembered when he had tried to take her from me. I did not want to think about these things now, they made it so much harder to control my natural instincts, but the thoughts rose unbidden,
driving me on.

  I kicked him where he lay, and Chevalier rolled away, scrambling across the floor to safety. His face was bloodied and he was holding his side where I had punched him. I tried to get a handle on myself, forcing back the bloodlust.

  “Don’t stop now,” smiled the Fir Darrig, and the Unseelie Court laughed around him.

  Suddenly, Chevalier grabbed a chair that had been standing by the wall and smashed it on the floor. From the pieces he selected a pair of broken legs which, to a vampire, had the unmistakable appearance of wooden stakes.

  This had just taken a very nasty direction, but I could not exactly blame Chevalier, I had not gone as easy on him as I had intended. When you are a warrior, then it is hard to go easy, and still harder to go easy while still making it look good.

  The Unseelie Court roared its approval as Chevalier and I circled each other. The stakes had certainly levelled the odds; I was still physically superior, but Chevalier only needed one good hit and I was dead. Would he take that hit if the opportunity came ?

  My gut instinct was that he would not, just as I hoped he knew I would not kill him, but in the heat of a fight, things happened.

  And if he did kill me, perhaps he though he had a chance with Bryn? She would never find out the truth, of course. He could

  easily fabricate a lie and she would be forced to believe him.

  And then would he raise my child as his own?

  The thoughts infuriated me.

  Our eyes met and we lunged at each other. I raised an arm to defend myself and felt the splintered wood slice through my skin, drawing blood. Reacting to the pain , I grabbed his other arm and swung him so he flew across the room, crashing into the wall above which our audience was arrayed, all laughing and cheering.

  I flew after him, grabbing him by the throat and pinning him down. At that moment, I could not have told you for certain whether I was putting on a show or really attacking. But as I looked into Chevalier’s face, I found myself again.

  This was not the man I was. I was acting the part of the man I had been for centuries, the man I had been when I stalked the streets of Chester. My face had been the last sight for more people than I was comfortable remembering. But that Sinjin was gone and I would not allow him to return. I was a better man now and I no longer killed—at least those on my own side.