Otherworld Renegade

As if he sensed her unease, Lorcan drew his eyes back to her face. “If Pedro is right, we should be able to enter the other building from here. The inquisitors used this crypt to hide the true number of their dead from the outside world.”

“There doesn’t seem to be any way out, other than the way we came in.” Tanzi looked around. It was a man-made cave with rough stone walls and a high, rounded ceiling. “It’s a dead end.”

Lorcan groaned and rolled his eyes. “Less of the dead jokes, please. I’ve heard them all before.”

“I didn’t mean—” Tanzi’s protest was cut short by a scraping noise from one of the coffins. It was soft but unmistakable. Nervously, she drew closer to Lorcan. “What was that?” Even though she whispered, her voice sounded unnaturally loud in the echoing space.

“One of them needs to tell me something.” Lorcan started to move toward the shelf from which the noise was becoming louder and more insistent. Tanzi gripped his hand tighter, keeping him at her side.

“Just like that? Do dead people often feel the need to tell you things?”

“If it’s important they do. They can sense my presence.” He turned to face her. “You’re trembling.” He drew her to him, running his hands up and down her arms. Soothing me as he would a frightened animal, Tanzi told herself, even as she gave herself up to the sensations his touch provoked. Just as if I really am the kitten he jokes about me being. “There is nothing to fear from the souls who lie here. Even if they wished us harm—and I doubt they do—the dead cannot hurt a necromancer.” He slid his fingers under her chin, constraining her to look up at him even though her instinct was to burrow her head into his chest. “I’ll look after you, Searc.”

Releasing her, Lorcan went over to the stack of coffins. The noise was coming from the casket on the top shelf. It was newer and less elaborate than the others, little more than a plain box compared with their wrought iron–encrusted grandeur. Placing his hands on the lid, he bent his head as if in prayer. “Asprecan. Speak to me.” His voice was gentle, offering a world of sympathy to the coffin’s occupant.

The coffin began to rock back and forth on its shelf as the noises from within became frantic. Muffled cries from inside tugged at Tanzi’s heartstrings and she hurried to Lorcan’s side, forgetting her earlier fear. “What can we do?”

“Help me get this top off.”

Lorcan produced a serviceable-looking army knife from his back pocket and, flicking out the blade, began to unscrew the coffin lid. When it was free, Tanzi helped him to lift it clear of the casket and place it on the ground. The young girl who instantly sat up and regarded them with huge, petrified eyes didn’t look dead. Her skin was creamy, her hair lustrous, and her lips retained a cherry bloom. The only telltale sign that she might have relinquished her hold on life was the dagger embedded in her chest and the splash of bright crimson that bloomed around it.

She looked at Lorcan in surprise, then lifted a hand to point at Tanzi. “Faerie.”

“Yes, but she will not hurt you,” Lorcan reassured her.

“Faeries is deadly.”

“I mean you no harm.” Tanzi stepped forward, but the girl shrank away from her.

“She is a dryad,” Lorcan said. “Or she was in life. They fear your race. Although she can see you, you cannot interact with her now that she is dead. Nothing you say or do will comfort her. It’s best if you stand to one side while I discover what she wishes to say to me.”

“Does she know she’s dead?” Tanzi whispered.

“Possibly not.” There was a trace of regret in his smile. “She’ll find out soon enough. It’s my least favorite part of the job description.”

Tanzi moved away slightly, casting a wary glance at the other coffins. What if one of the other occupants of this crypt suddenly discovered a burning desire to converse with Lorcan while he was otherwise engaged? She decided to stay far enough from the walls not to find herself on the receiving end of a bony hand reaching out from one of the shelves. The dryad stared around her with wide, startled eyes.

“What is your name?”

“Iphae.” It seemed she was compelled to answer Lorcan. “What place is this?”

“You are in the mortal realm, in a city called Barcelona. Do you remember how you got here?”

She began to shake her head. Then she raised a hand to cover her lips, and the shaking turned to nodding. The hand dropped, her lip trembled and tears filled the gray-green depths of her eyes. “Sidhes did come to our forest and hunt us down like animals. Only the youngest girls did they want. I was fearful for my little sister so I helped her to hide deep in the woods. Took me instead, didn’t they?”

“What happened when they brought you here?” Lorcan’s voice was gentle.

Iphae hung her head. “Cannot say it. Not to make me, please.”

“Did they make you work for them? In their brothels?”

She nodded and fat, glistening tears rolled down her cheeks. “Mortal men pay good money for no-good dryad bitches, sidhes do say. Keep us in chains until our masters come, don’t they?”

“Who hurt you, Iphae?”

She gazed up at him blankly. Then her hand went to her breast, seeking the hilt of the dagger. “Oh!” Iphae’s breath hitched in shock and Tanzi wanted to go to her and cradle the lost girl in her arms. Sympathy was another new emotion she had learned through her contact with Lorcan. What a pity a faerie’s touch would terrify the sad little dryad even further. “Big mortal took a liking to me. Cruel, and getting worse each time, wasn’t he? In fear for my life, I was. Stole this knife from one of the sidhes, didn’t I? This time when he got too rough, I cut him. Wasn’t going to take that from a cheap dryad whore, was he? Paid me back, didn’t he?”

“Is that what you wished to tell me?”

She frowned as though concentrating hard. “No. I hear them talk, don’t I? Saying the great Moncoya is set to rise again stronger than ever and return to his rightful place. Time to put these resistance dogs down, isn’t it? Set a trap for them. Their leader is back in town, isn’t he? Get him and slit his cursed throat.” Her hand reached out suddenly and gripped Lorcan’s. “Beware.”

Tanzi glanced apprehensively over her shoulder. Was it possible her father knew who the resistance leader was? Worse, could he know that she had joined them? If so, his revenge against Lorcan would be absolute and vicious. For her—his daughter—death could not be any worse than the marriage plans he had already made for her.

Iphae was speaking again. “Moved the dryad money spinners on, didn’t they? Gone from here, my friends are now.”

Lorcan placed a hand on the girl’s head and her eyelids fluttered. “You have done well, Iphae. It is time for you to rest now.”

“Not to go, sir. Not yet, please...” For a moment her face was a mask of fear. Gradually, she relaxed under Lorcan’s touch and her expression lightened. “Sleep, shall I?”

“Yes, Iphae. You’ve earned it.”

“Thank you, sir.” She lay down again in her casket, her eyes closing like a tired child who had fought slumber for too long.

Lorcan signaled for Tanzi to help him replace the coffin lid. She watched his face as he performed the task. “How do you stand it?” Her voice was husky. She wanted to hold him, but she didn’t know how he would react. Instead, she settled for placing her hand on his forearm.

Lorcan glanced down at her slender fingers where they rested on the sinewy muscles of his arm, but made no comment about the gesture. “It’s what I have to do for them. Listening to them, comforting them, allowing them to share their secrets and unburden their fears. It’s an obligation that was placed upon me when these powers were bequeathed to me. It’s a great responsibility but also a privilege. The final dignity I can bestow on them is to get this part right.”

“You did,” Tanzi said quietly. “Today, for Iphae, you got it absolutely right.”

“Thank you.” A corner of his mouth lifted briefly.

“What now?”

“Now? We steer clear of that bloody place.” He nodded at the blank wall at the end of the crypt. “Whatever their trap is, we’re not walking into it.”

“What about Iphae’s friends?”

“We’ll find them and free them, of course.”

* * *

The talk around the table that night was of the plan to rescue the captured dryads. Pedro was charged with discovering any likely places to which the girls might have been transported. Tanzi, from her habitual seat by the fire, kept her eyes on Lorcan’s face. She thought his eyes revealed his fatigue, but his expression remained determined.

“This is too dangerous for you,” Lisbet insisted. “It seems they know of your presence here. They know you are our leader.”

“How can they know it?” Aydan asked.

“There is only one way.” Lorcan looked at each of the faces around the table. “We have an informer in our midst.”