Pursuit (Through Time 1)

He bowed his head and then respectfully stood, tall, erect, muscular, and more a warrior today than he had been only a few weeks ago. His flaxen hair fell about in loose curls to his shoulders, and as he raised his head, their eyes met.

She could see he was still angry.

He looked so very much like his older brother, Danté, she thought as she stared into his deep golden eyes, but he was different, so very different. He still had to grow and learn.

Discontent glinted in the recesses of his Seelie eyes, but something else lay in their recesses, a sadness that went deep.

Trevor of Lugh must not be allowed to fall into bitterness, she thought. Pampering him wasn’t something she had the time to do any longer, nor could she waste any time teaching him what eventually he would learn. He was going to have to absorb everything he needed to know in one quick lesson.

“Trevor, sit with me.” She waved one elegant hand towards a high-backed chair, sat first, and waited.

He hesitated but did what she asked. She could see he didn’t want to. She could see he wasn’t just angry but discontent.

“Tell me,” she said, “why you are not satisfied with the results of your mission. After all, Pestale has been stopped, and in a manner of speaking he is being punished—denied all he had strived to accomplish.”

“Stopped? For now, but not punished. He killed Lana … and what of the humans he killed?” Trevor shook his head. “In my humble opinion, my Queen, he has gotten off too easy.”

“You do not think it is punishment enough to send him back to the Dark Realm, a place he loathed?”

“No, I do not, and, my Queen, how can you call it punishment when he has been taken by his father, made to drink from the Cauldron, and has no memory of his past deeds? No, that is not punishment, and that is not the justice I sought. If you wanted to keep him alive, you should have given him a conscience and allowed him to suffer the agonies of regret and guilt.”

“Even I cannot give one a conscience.” She clucked her tongue and waved this off. “I maintained the balance between the Realms, my Prince. The Dark King would have allowed us to put Pestale to death, yes, but at what cost? He would never have forgiven us. The Dark King is a complicated, unfathomable being, and we could not, cannot, afford to go to war with him. Pestale has always been his favorite creation. He seems to believe that Pestale, whom he calls his son, can be redeemed.”

“I don’t want him redeemed. I want him dead,” Trevor spat.

“Fie—such emotion is unbecoming a Seelie prince,” Aaibhe said gently.

“I beg your pardon, my Queen,” he said, but she wasn’t sure he did.

She studied him before saying, “I have a mission for you because I, like you, do not believe Pestale can be redeemed simply by drinking the water of forgetfulness.” She sighed. “I will be calling on your brother, on Breslyn … on many in the days ahead. We have more to concern us than justice or revenge, much more.”

“What, my Queen?” He stared at her, and she saw his puzzlement.

“I am not sure how it will come or when, but I saw destruction, not only the complete destruction of the Human Realm, but ours as well.”

He crossed arms and shook his head. “I should have drove my Death Sword deep into his body!”

“Hush now, Trevor. Are you mine to command?” she said gravely.

He dropped his arms and then made a fist of allegiance that he pounded against his upper chest. “I am yours to command, my Queen, as ever, as always.”

She smiled softly. “I know. In my vision, I saw Pestale … very much who he always was. Something has gone wrong. I do not believe he actually drank from the Cauldron. I also saw Morrigu steal something from the Dark King. Either the Dark King did not care or was not aware. In his present form,

many things escape his notice. Or perhaps she took it from him eons ago before he met his human, when they were lovers. I have no way of knowing. However, she doesn’t know how to use it—yet. However, if she or Pestale learns how to open it and use it, there will be no stopping them, for it will open a portal through the Prison Walls large enough to allow Pestale to bring an army of his Unseelie monsters to raid our two worlds, humans and Seelie alike. Our numbers cannot compete with the hordes of Unseelie he will bring. Our only advantage is our Light Magic.”

Trevor frowned. “You have seen this—with your ‘sight’?”

“Yes, but my ability only allows me to see limited scenarios in the future, and those events don’t necessarily have to occur. Your mission, as well as all my Royals, will be to help make certain that Pestale remains where he is.” She smiled again at him. “Your brother and Z left earlier for the Highlands, where I felt a disturbance. Breslyn and Ete are just outside Dublin, where I felt another, and you must go to Killarney, where our Shee Willow and her Druid, Shayne, await your arrival.”

Trevor stood up. “As you wish, my Queen.” He frowned again. “What of Princess Aida?”

“She watches over Trinity with Willow’s father, Shee Desmond.” The queen’s hands were folded in her lap, but she wrung them at this juncture and said, “However, there is a force building at the Middle Lake—I can feel it even now.”

He inclined his head, and this time when he brought up his gaze she could see the bitterness had been replaced with something else: determination and fury.

“Trevor, do not allow your emotions to get in the way of your logic. The Dark Princes are cold and calculating and will think in steps. Try and do the same. Your goal is first to stop, not to kill unless it is the only way you can stop them.”

“It is the only way! If we do not kill them, they will never stop coming at us. So I tell you honestly that this time I shall drive my sword deep into his cold-blooded essence and see him draw his last breath!”