Chapter 9
MY FIRST THOUGHT was that this had to be an elaborate practical joke. My second thought was that I was scared spitless.
My family pretty much consisted of Angel and Mr. Rumblebutt. I seldom gave any thought to family gatherings, reunions, or the proverbial “meeting the parents” situation.
I tried to remind myself that I had already met Morgana, but even then, I had met her in the context of being swept into her service, not as her son’s girlfriend. We had only briefly talked about Herne, and the only warning I got from her was to mind my oath and stick to it. Given my mother had been pledged to Morgana, I wasn’t really sweating it. I wasn’t sure what Morgana had planned for me, and until I found out, I wasn’t going to borrow trouble.
But meeting Cernunnos seemed more fraught with danger. Granted, I’d recently found out my father had been pledged to him, but that didn’t necessarily make it any easier.
“Just where are we going to meet your father? Is he coming here? To the hotel?” It seemed like a ridiculous question, but given Herne talked to his parents on a cell phone, it seemed just as likely as anything else.
“You’ll see.” He turned to the others. “This shouldn’t take long. I’d rather you didn’t start interviewing the families until Ember and I return. Why don’t you head back to the hotel, eat lunch, and we’ll be back as soon as we finish talking to Cernunnos.”
They just mumbled and waved and I handed Angel my keys. Herne escorted me to his car, opening the door for me. I meekly slid into the passenger seat, fastening my seatbelt. What the hell had I gotten myself into? I wondered if I still had time to back out, but given the fact that Cernunnos had asked to meet me, it didn’t feel prudent to refuse.
I wasn’t sure where we were going, but Herne seemed to know the way. We headed toward the other side of Seacrest Cove until we came to a one-story rambler. It stood on a bluff, overlooking the water, with two gigantic oak trees in the front yard. I blinked. Oaks weren’t all that common around the area. Then the thought fluttered past that Cernunnos might own the house, but that was ridiculous. The Lord of the Hunt owning a rambler? Somehow, it just didn’t compute.
Herne shifted into park, then turned off the ignition.
“So, does your father live here? On Whidbey Island?” With a glance at the house, I added, “In a rambler?”
He laughed. “No, my father does not live on Whidbey Island, nor is his palace a rambler built in the 1970s. However, the man who lives here is an agent of his. And those two oaks? They guard the portal we’re crossing through in order to meet him.”
I blinked. “Agent? As in, like we’re agents of the Wild Hunt?”
“Not exactly. Most of the gods have an intricate network of spies and agents throughout the world. My father is no different. Come on, let’s go.”
As I opened the door, a shaft of sunlight broke through the clouds, burning them away. It was still cool, in the low sixties, with a stiff breeze, but the sun felt good on my face as I stepped out of the car. I shaded my eyes as the light splashed across the ground with a dizzying array of color.
At that moment, the door to the rambler opened and a short but sturdy man stepped through. He was muscular, with dark wavy hair that trailed down his back. He was wearing a muscle shirt, and a pair of blue jeans that curved around his butt nicely. A hunting knife was clipped to his belt, and by the look of him, I pegged him as either partial or full Native American. His eyes lit up when he saw Herne.
As we approached, Herne held up his hand and the other man clasped it, in one of those solidarity-type handshakes that men seemed to favor.
“Herne, my man. It’s been awhile.” The man’s gaze flickered over me. “I don’t believe we’ve met.”
“Ember Kearney. She works for the Wild Hunt.” Then, to my surprise, Herne added with just a touch of possessiveness in his voice, “She’s also my girlfriend. No poaching.”
“Excuse me?” I asked, giving him a what the fuck look. “In the first place, I may be your girlfriend, but I’m not a fish or a game animal. Nobody can poach me. And second, I make up my own mind. Just remember that, dude.”
Herne snorted. “Yes, ma’am.” He said it so obsequiously that I smacked him on the arm.
“Behave and introduce your friend to me.”
“Yes, ma’am.” His eyes twinkled, and I realized he was just baiting me. “Ember, let me introduce John Shelton.”
“Pleased to meet you.” John inhaled softly. “They were right about you.” As if realizing he had just spoken out loud, his cheeks colored, and he dropped his gaze. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…”
I suddenly realized what he was referring to. “Yes, I’m half Dark and half Light.”
He gave me a short nod. “Scuttlebutt gets around the island quickly, I can tell you that. As I said, I didn’t mean anything by it. I just didn’t realize that it was actually possible.”
“The Fae Courts prefer to bandy the rumors that the two sides can’t interbreed. It goes against all of their sensibilities. But as you can see, I’m living proof. And you are…a shifter?” It was rude of me to ask, but given my own heritage had just been dissected, I wasn’t feeling particularly diplomatic.
John seemed to understand. “I’m part of the Puget Sound Orca Pod.”
I was surprised. It was unusual to meet water shifters on land, and given we were working with the hippocampi, it seemed a little startling to meet a whale shifter. Though technically, he was actually part of the porpoise family. Orcas weren’t true whales.
“What can I do for you today?” he asked, returning his attention to Herne.
“Need to use the portal. My father wants to talk to me about something. He also wants to meet Ember.”
“Of course. I was just getting ready to go into town to pick up some groceries. Do you need me to stay here and guard your back?”
Herne shook his head. “We’ll be fine. I’ll make sure to close the portal when we leave.”
“Then I’ll let you get to it.” John turned back to me. “It was nice to meet you, Ember. Have a good trip!” And with that, he headed over to a beautiful vintage white pickup, waving as he pulled out of the driveway.
“He seems nice. How long have you known him?”
Herne led me over toward the oaks. “Fifty, sixty years? Somewhere around there. And you’re right, he’s extremely nice, and trustworthy. If you ever need help and I’m not around, come to John and ask him to help you.”
I nodded, filing away the information for later.
We walked up to the oaks, which had to be sixty feet tall each. They were scarlet oaks, with massive trunks that splintered off into narrower children. A writhing array of branches littered each section of the trunk. The familiar scalloped edges of the leaves made them easy to identify, as well as the scattered acorns on the ground. But these trees felt different than most of the oaks I had encountered. There was a magnetic resonance between them, a pulse that I could feel from even ten yards away.
“So, how do you activate it? How do we go through?” I looked around for some sort of touchpad or key, but didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. I wasn’t exactly attuned to the nature of portals, although once or twice I thought I had been on the verge of entering one. But I knew they existed, and that going through them wasn’t exactly like just stepping through a door.
Herne wiped his hands on his jeans, then motioned for me to follow him. When we were standing in front of the two oaks, he stretched out his arms, and dropped his head back. A light began to emanate from between his hands, forming a long beam of brilliant green light between his fingers.
He slowly moved his hands until his palms were facing forward, and whispered something that I couldn’t quite catch. A few moments later, the earth rumbled, so loud that I wondered if the neighborhood could hear it. The ground beneath my feet began to shake and quiver.
An earthquake? What was going on?
I wanted to ask Herne, but he focused all his attention on the light between his palms that shot toward the trunks of the oaks. I staved off my panic as best as I could and tried to keep steady on my feet. Another moment, and a ripple formed in the air between the trees. And then the ripple became a swirl, and the swirl began to spin widdershins.
“Take my hand,” Herne yelled over the roar of the turbulence. “Whatever you do, don’t let go or I might not be able to find you.”
I took his hand, holding on for dear life. We began to advance toward the ripple between the trees, the swirl of energy making me dizzy as it echoed out to surround us with a magnetic pull. As we reached the base of the trunks, Herne took a deep breath and lunged through the trees, dragging me with him. I started to say something, but the next moment everything went haywire. I felt like an egg being scrambled, or ice cream being whipped up into a milkshake. Nothing felt stable and the only thing I could see were worlds of brilliant colors. It was like a crazy hallucinogenic trip, I thought. And I’d had my share of those in college.
I wasn’t sure how long it lasted. I wasn’t sure of anything, to tell the truth. It was as though every nerve ending in my body screamed for attention. It wasn’t exactly pain, but more like a series of jolts that just kept on coming—and it wasn’t the good kind of jolt like an orgasm, but more like being shocked over and over again by static electricity.
I was starting to get dizzy when my feet hit solid ground again. I opened my eyes and realized that they had been closed the entire time. I was still holding Herne’s hand. As I looked around, I saw that we were in the middle of a forest. We were standing in front of a massive grove of giant oaks, and the roots formed a staircase winding around the sides of the trunks, spiraling up to what looked like a palace in the tree canopy.
Everywhere I turned, sparkling lights illuminated the dark forest, dancing and darting like fireflies in the night. Around the base of the massive trunks, people were going about their business. They turned as we appeared. I realized we were standing between another pair of oaks, similar to the ones back on Whidbey Island.
Overhead, the stars whirled. We had gone from day to night. The panorama spread out, a vast array of constellations and galaxies. I had never seen the sky look this way before, and I realized it wasn’t just because of the lack of light pollution. There was something different, almost alien to the vista that unfolded above us. It felt cold, and yet incredibly active. As I squinted, staring up, I caught a glimpse of a silver wheel in the stars, and in the center of the wheel, a castle. I truly felt farther away from home than I had ever been.
“Is that a castle?” I asked, scooting closer to Herne, feeling terribly out of place.
“Yes. That’s Caer Arianrhod, the silver castle of Arianrhod, goddess of the stars and of the Eternal Wheel.” He wrapped his arm around my waist, nuzzling my forehead. “I know this is strange. You’re probably feeling a long ways from home, and the truth is, you are. You’re in my realm now. But you’ll be safe. Everything’s all right.” He pointed at the palace among the trees. “That’s where my father lives.”
“Does Morgana live with him?” I wasn’t sure if they were actually married or if they had just had a child together.
He shook his head. “No, she has her own palace, a Faerie Barrow. But she comes to visit often, especially when it has to do with the Wild Hunt.” He gave me a reassuring hug, then took my hand and started forward. “Come, let’s go meet my father.”
I followed him, holding tight as the brilliant orbs of light darted around us. One landed on my shoulder and another on my nose, and I got the impression they were actually creatures, not simply magic sparkles.
“What are these? Are they like fireflies?”
“These are true Lightning Flits. Not like the lightning bugs you have over in your world, but these are shards of lightning that have taken on life. They shine through the darkness. They sleep during the day and come out at night. My father caught a bolt of lightning and shattered it in order to spawn enough Flits to light his palace and grounds.”
I was about to ask how the hell he had caught a bolt of lightning, but just then we passed a group of people, carrying branches balanced on their shoulders, headed toward the palace. I realized they looked a lot like the Fae, but different.
“Who are they?” I asked.
“These are Elves. You won’t find them over in your world, at least not in any great numbers. They live in the realms of the gods. Especially in Valhalla, Asgard, and here, in Annwn.”
I had heard of Elves, but I had never met one. They were supposed to be similar to the Fae, only less emotional, and uninterested in anything outside the borders of their world. I wasn’t sure what to think of them, or what they would think of me.
As Herne walked toward the group, I stood up straight. Herne was the son of a god, and as long as I was walking beside him, I would do my best to show the respect he deserved. The Elves stopped talking, and turned to greet us. One of the men stepped forward.
“Lord Herne, well met.” He was tall and lithe, with golden hair tumbling down his back. His face was smooth and impassive, and even though he bowed deeply, he never lost the sense of regality that seemed to be second nature. He was altogether beautiful, shining with an inner light.
“Trospos, well met, my man.” Herne inclined his head. “Is my father in his chamber?” He didn’t bother introducing me, which was fine. I wasn’t sure what to say, anyway.
Trospos gave him a brief nod. “Yes, he is. He said he was expecting you and to send you right up. Are you here for long?”
Herne shook his head. “Unfortunately, no. We’re just here for a brief chat with my father, and then we must head back. If you’d prepare a key for Ember, I’d appreciate it. No doubt, she’ll be coming over off and on, and I’d like her to be able to make the transfer without my help. Ember Kearney, please bid greetings to Trospos. He’s one of my father’s oldest assistants.”
I started to stick out my hand, then stopped. I wasn’t sure what the proper greeting was.
“Very good, my lord. My lady Ember, well met and hello.” There was nothing in Trospos’s eyes to indicate that he recognized my mixed blood, or that he felt I was anything but a welcome guest.
I smiled, grateful and eager to make a good impression. “How do you do? I’m afraid I don’t know the customs here.” I stopped, suddenly realizing that Trospos was speaking English. I blinked, glancing at Herne with a question in my eyes.
“My father’s assistants know almost every language. Before we go, he’ll fit you with the key for the portal.” With that, Herne took my hand and once more, we were headed toward the base of the gigantic oak.
As we drew near, I saw that the entire stand of trees had calved off of one massive trunk, joined together at the base, but weaving in and out to form what looked like an entire latticework of trees. A labyrinth of staircases winding up the different trunks looked like a jumbled maze, but Herne knew exactly where we were going. He led me to the center of the trunk, where branches wove together to form a staircase. Clinging to each branch was a globe of light—some were flickering white, some were green, others purple and blue, still others pink. A railing was attached to the center of the trunk. I grabbed hold of it, not sure of my footing, and began to follow him up the steps.
I wasn’t sure how tall the tree was. It seemed far taller than any oak I had ever seen, and by the time we were halfway up, I was dizzy. I glanced over the edge, quickly pulling back when I saw how far we were from the ground. I wondered what they did in case of emergency. You wouldn’t just jump off the edge of the tree, would you? But then again, we were in the realm of the gods. Or rather, Annwn, to be precise. And here, everything seemed different.
“How far do we have to go?” I asked, feeling a little sheepish.
“About six more yards. There’s an exit there into the palace.”
And sure enough, not quite twenty feet ahead, we were standing on the landing, in front of a double door that led into the trunk. The stairs continued up the trunk, but Herne placed his hand on the door and whispered something. The opening shuddered and slid to the side, allowing us entrance.
He led me into a hall, illuminated by lanterns on the sides of the walls. It forked off in several different directions as we went along, and it occurred to me that the inside of the palace seemed far bigger than the outside. The floor was highly polished stone, black as obsidian, and it gleamed with our reflection under the lights guiding our way. The walls were smooth. I couldn’t tell they were the inside of a tree trunk. Instead, they looked like polished ivory tiles with flecks of gold and silver sprinkled throughout.
“The palace seems like it’s in yet another dimension. This seems far bigger than the tree outside.” It felt like reality kept bending in and around, twisting when it needed to change.
“It is. Most homes belonging to the gods are. Try not to analyze it.”
I realized we hadn’t seen anybody so far, and that in itself seemed odd.
“Where is everybody? I would think we’d pass some servants or court members.” I wasn’t exactly sure just how Cernunnos ran things. The Fae Courts were packed with nobility, and even though they were spread out, they were crowded.
“They’re around. But they’re usually busy, doing my father’s bidding. This isn’t a court like a kingdom with people living within the castle walls. Only his assistants live here, and Morgana when she chooses to visit. I lived here most of the time when I was young. I stayed with my mother at times, but mostly, I lived with my father.”
The winding labyrinth of hallways reminded me of underground tunnels. It was hard to believe we were high above the floor of the forest, crossing through the arboreal canopy. We passed several doorways, some of them open, and inside I saw what looked like various bedrooms and sitting rooms. The entire complex seemed so empty that when we did come across a couple serving girls, it startled me. They came around the corner as we were rounding a bend in the hallway. They suddenly stopped giggling, staring at Herne as if they had just seen a ghost. They backed up quickly, and dropped into a deep curtsey. I realize they, too, were Elves.
“Pardon, Your Lordship. We didn’t realize you were here,” one of them said, her gaze downcast at the floor. She was petite, with long dark hair wrapped up in a chignon. She wore a rather plain dress, but it was clean and neat.
Herne gave them a quick once-over, nodding with a faint smile.
“Not a problem. Carry on.” He skirted around them, and I followed, not sure if I should say anything. As we passed by, I saw one of them giving me a glance, but she lowered her gaze the moment she saw me looking at her. There was no expression on her face that I could read. The Elves were even more impassive than Herne.
We came to a set of stairs at the end of the hallway, and Herne began to climb them.
“Surely this isn’t all in that one copse we entered? It feels like we walked for a mile.” I wasn’t complaining, just curious.
Herne glanced back at me. “We’re still within the thicket. As you said, this is a realm within a realm. Just like a Barrow mound. Most abodes of the gods exist in an interdimensional space. You should visit Caer Arianrhod at some point. Talk about labyrinths!” He laughed. “I remember when I was young, Morgana took me to visit. I got lost for three days by going down the wrong hallway. Finally somebody found me and returned me to my mother.”
“Weren’t you afraid? If I’d gotten lost for three days when I was a little girl, I would have been terrified.”
“No. I knew eventually they’d come looking for me. And the gods can go without food or water far longer than mortals. Oh, we get grumpy and hungry, but we’re not going to die.”
I thought about what he said, and then asked, “Do you even need to eat?”
“Not particularly. I get hungry, as I said, but it’s not going to hurt me. I suppose if I didn’t have food for a thousand years it might make me grow gaunt and I’d be hella bitchy. Most of the gods I know enjoy eating.”
That brought another thought to mind. “Can you get drunk?”
“Depends what I’m drinking. But yes, a number of the gods can get drunk, including me. I don’t think you want to see that, though. It’s not a pretty sight. Especially with gods like Thor or Dionysus. It can be amusing, but dangerous for mortals to be around at that point. Even…around me, it would be dicey.” He laughed. “I remember once…” He paused, then shook his head. “No, I’ll save that story for another time.” He pointed ahead to the top of the stairs. “We’re almost to my father’s chambers.”
“Tell me how I should address him, please. Should I curtsey or bow or fall on my face?” The last thing I wanted to do was make a bad impression on my boyfriend’s father, especially since he happened to be the Lord of the Hunt.
“My father doesn’t require groveling, unless you’ve pissed him off. A curtsey will do, or even a short bow. And address him as ‘Your Lordship.’ He’ll tell you what he wants you to call him after that.” He must have seen the consternation in my face because he paused, leaning down to give me a kiss. “Everything will be fine. Trust me, if I thought my father was going to do anything to you—anything nasty, that is—I wouldn’t bring you here.”
He sounded so genuine that I believed him. Herne struck me as the type who would defy his parents to protect those he cared about. I stared into his eyes, deciding to trust him.
“All right, but that doesn’t make me any less nervous. I don’t know why, but meeting your father seems like such a huge deal. So was meeting Morgana. I know you’re a god as well, but somehow you don’t seem quite so intimidating.”
“It’s gotta be the leather jacket and jeans,” he said with a laugh. “Someday I’ll let you see me in my natural form, but we’ll leave that for later.”
We were at the top of the stairs now, and he put his hand on the doorknob. I took a deep breath and gave him a nod.
He opened the door. “We’re off to see the wizard,” he said, then entered the chamber.
THE ROOM WAS vast that it was hard to even see the ceiling. The walls were a maze of tree trunks and roots and branches, all entwined around one other, fossilized to the point of looking like stone. Perhaps they were stone, carved to look like giant root balls. I wasn’t sure, and for some reason, I felt hesitant to reach out and touch them.
The room was larger than a football field. Here and there, benches lined the walls, hewn from a lustrous white marble, run through with veins of black. Matching tables sat near the benches, but there was no one sitting at them, and the chamber felt cavernous.
I glanced up. Stalactites dripped down from the ceiling, sparkling with crystals of quartz. They flickered, illuminated from within. As we fully entered the chamber, the entire ceiling blazed to life, a brilliant light spreading throughout the network of crystals.
I blinked, momentarily blinded. As my eyesight adjusted, I found myself staring at a giant throne in the center of the room. It too appeared to be formed of roots and branches, twigs and limbs all knotting together in a woven tangle to create a giant chair. It too had sparkling crystals peeking out from crevices and nooks that hid between the branches.
Seated on the massive throne was an equally massive man.
His muscles rippled, his olive skin gleaming, showing every shadow and highlight of his muscles. His biceps and chest were bare, a topographical map chiseled in flesh. His hair was long, hanging in multiple braids that draped over his thighs. He wore a bearskin cloak and his face was illuminated by the crystals shining from both throne and ceiling.
Cernunnos’s eyes were wide set, tilted like a cat’s, and they flickered with gold and green lights, reminding me of faceted gems. His lips were full, and I saw where Herne got his good looks, but the Hunt Master’s smile held the slightest hint of cruelty, although I didn’t feel any sense of malice coming from him. But I knew that to cross him would be dangerous—deadly, no doubt. He stood as we approached.
I stared at him, stopping in my tracks when I realized he was wearing a pair of camo pants. I blinked, trying to take in the juxtaposition in his dress.
Herne led me up to the throne, where he went down on one knee, bowing his head. Since I wasn’t wearing a dress, I felt odd curtseying, so I followed suit, lowering myself to one knee beside Herne.
Cernunnos towered over us, he was at least seven feet tall. He stared down at us for a moment and, as I snuck a peek, he caught my gaze and the haughty smile widened into a grin.
“Well met, Ms. Ember Kearney. So, I finally get to speak to the woman who has stolen my son’s heart.”
And that stopped me cold.