Treasure Ch. 10

"How is it so beautiful here?" she asked. Adeon's repressed a sigh of relief. Finally, she was speaking to him again. "It's only days from winter..."

Adeon stooped down to speak his answer conspiratorially near her ear. "Magic, of course," he whispered. A flush invaded her cheeks, a glowing blossom of pink in the gloom of the forest. Adeon wanted to bottle that color and keep it hidden away from the rest of the planet.

"Can't the two of you make eyes at one another and walk at the same time?" Cael drawled from over his shoulder. Catherine quickly severed their gaze and hurried forward, and Adeon matched her pace with an irritated scowl. "We're close," he added as they approached. Lucia glanced back at them, and her gaze lingered on Catherine's face.

"Will the human be accompanying you?" she asked.

Adeon chanced a look at Catherine. While she appeared to have calmed down, her face was still an unyielding mask of resolution. "Yes," he sighed.

She arched a thin black eyebrow before turning back around. "It's a cruel, cruel thing to lead a mortal into the Unseelie court. I thought you might have been fond of her."

Catherine dodged Adeon's pointed stare for the rest of the walk.

Soon, they had come to a stop in front of a pair of particularly ancient-looking trees. The bark was black with age, and each limb looked broad and malevolently twisted. Withered ivy clung to the trunks. The warble of birds had vanished completely from around them, leaving them in a chillingly perfect silence. The leafy canopy above them was very still--untouched by even the slightest breeze. Adeon gripped Catherine's wrist as they drew closer.

"Catherine," he said in a low voice. "Although I'm certain that it won't change a thing, I'm going to remind you that this place is terribly dangerous. Especially to you."

Catherine's throat tightened in a swallow. "I understand," she said.

"While we're here, you mustn't eat anything, drink anything, touch anything--"

"Am I allowed to speak?" she asked dully, and he tried to ignore the swell of frustration in his chest.

"That," he said with an air of forced patience, "is to be decided. But if you say anything--and gods, I hope you don't have to--you must be polite, above all else. You cannot--you must not--offend any of the court's inhabitants. They can make our lives more difficult than you could possibly imagine." He stared down at her with reluctant satisfaction as her face began to go pale with dread.

"Polite?" she repeated.

"Excruciatingly."

"A-alright," she said softly. Upon glancing up and meeting Cael's impatient stare, she turned slightly pink and said, "I'm ready. I think."

"Oh, darling, you wouldn't be ready in three hundred years," Cael replied cheerfully. Adeon fixed him with a withering glare, and he merely shrugged--a slow, languid roll of his shoulders. "It's true. But her reluctant confidence is very reassuring."

"Shall we proceed, or would you care to listen to yourself speak for a bit longer?" Lucia inquired. Cael curved at the hip and descended into a magnificent bow.

"By your leave, my lady," he droned, gazing up at her from beneath a fringe of snow-white hair. She snorted, then gestured for them to follow with a lazy flick of her fingers. Adeon padded close behind Cael, and Catherine hurried to his side. When he looked down at her, she flashed him a miserable smile.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. And then they stepped past the two trees, and an entirely new world emerged into existence.

There was no flash, no shimmer, no cloud of haze. One moment they were standing before the two odd trees, and the next, they were simply somewhere else. The world around them was incredibly dark, as if many hours had passed and they had stepped right into the night, and while they were still surrounded by trees, the bark was unhealthily pale and gnarled like old limbs. Their bare branches twisted and curved upwards, creating a series of woven ceilings here and there, and some wandered, vine-like, into stone corridors that spun off in every which way. Odd little mushrooms and stones jutted out from the walls. They might have been underground, but the ceiling stretched up into a dome of blackness, too high to see the top. When Adeon peered upwards, there were no stars.

"Welcome," said Lucia, smiling fiercely. The light of the candles perched within nooks in the walls--each of them dripping fountains of old, white wax onto the stone--played off of her teeth.

"Still as charming as always, I see," Cael commented. Lucia ignored him, but at Adeon's side, Catherine's lips jerked into a smile. Her eyes, however, were huge and surrounded by a hectic ring of white. When Adeon tucked his fingers into his pockets and began to saunter forward with Cael and Lucia, she hurried beside him and reached out to cling to his sleeve. He smirked down at her. Not in need of protection, indeed. But he could hardly blame her trepidation. This was a place that echoed every sinister tale woven by mothers to compel their children to behave. This was where monstrosities limped and slithered and scuttled in plain sight. And then there was Catherine, glowing like a beacon in the darkness with her pale skin and sky-blue dress.

He gazed sadly down at her and wondered if it was too late to shove her back out into the forest.

"Shall I inform the King of your arrival?" Lucia wondered as they approached a massive spiral staircase in the middle of the circular room. It circled down and down, lit only by sparse candlelight, and ended at a more well-lit area several floors below. As high as they were, Adeon could see figures writhing in the space like so many insects. Cael winced.

"Do you think that's really necessary?" he asked carefully.

"Perhaps not. I'm sure he already knows," Lucia replied, with a wickedly nonchalant shrug of her shoulders. Her gaze flitted pointedly upwards, where silhouettes of things were skittering over the root-like branches and chattering curiously in soft, muted, alien voices. Adeon chanced one last look over his shoulder at the shrinking entrance behind them. A growing feeling of despair was blooming in his chest.

"Adeon," Catherine whispered, and he wrenched his eyes back towards her. Cael and Lucia had already begun their descent on the staircase. "We're falling behind."

"Won't you go back?" he begged after a moment. "Won't you wait for me?"

Her eyes lingered a little too long on the arch of trees behind them. But then she was staring back up at him with a look of terrified determination. "Then I would be a hypocrite. You know that. This was my idea."

Adeon's upper lip curled into a faint snarl. "Fine," he spat. She turned abruptly and pranced down the stairs, and he followed her like a moody white shadow. At the very least, he steered her a little further away from the wall, where dark hallways lurked every few steps; just dark enough to conceal ravenous predators in their depths. A few diminutive, cackling figures draped in rags shoved past them on the stairs as they walked. They didn't linger long enough for Adeon to catch a proper glimpse of them, but Catherine sucked in a deep breath when one bumped into her shoulder.

Throughout their descent, the walls around them grew brighter. The light below them was brilliant but eerily pale, like the ghostly ripples of sunlight on the ocean floor had been trapped and set into lanterns. Worse still was the ethereal drone of music that was growing louder and louder, riddled with warbling flutes and moaning, wailing strings. There was a sort of rhythm in the chaos, however, and when he glanced down at Catherine, her eyes looked faintly glazed. When their feet finally hit solid ground, she wandered absentmindedly towards a crowded dance floor. Rolling his eyes, Adeon reached out and tugged her back towards him by the neck of her dress.

They appeared to have intruded upon a lavish party. A motley assortment of creatures pranced around, (and on top of), rows of tables piled high with unidentifiable foods and suspiciously dark wine. The room was much more massive than Adeon would have thought possible when they were gazing down upon it from above--something that Adeon was grateful for when he spotted a wide stone platform topped with a row of throne-like chairs far behind the dance floor. Magnificently-dressed figures were lounging in each seat, and Adeon quickly drew Catherine with him behind a group of waifish women garbed in dark, tattered dresses. One glanced over her shoulder to reveal a pretty face set with limpid eyes of the purest green. Her lips, like a blot of fuscia against her pale skin, curved into an intrigued grin. When Adeon smiled back, she coyly lifted her arms above her head and thrust her prominent bosom forward. The gesture lifted the dirty hem of her skirts to reveal a pair of cloven hooves. Adeon blinked.

"If you're quite finished," Catherine whispered furiously from his elbow, suddenly looking much more lucid, and he smiled to himself as she guided him forward towards Cael's back.

"He'll be nearby," Cael was saying, half to himself. "He always flocks to wine, the lush..."

"Where has Lucia gone to?" Catherine asked worriedly.

"Oh, she'll be back, I'm sure. Can't stay away."

"But...but she brought us here," Catherine said. To Adeon's satisfaction, she seemed to be growing weary of his cockiness. "If someone sees us without her, won't they--"

"You expected her to vouch for us?" Cael interrupted. "That wouldn't be very prudent of her. She'd be horribly punished if the King were to find out."

"You lunatic--" Adeon began in a horrible rumble, and Catherine seized his wrist as he made to lurch forward. Still, she gaped up at Cael in horror.

"None of us are supposed...to be here?" she stuttered. "And...and we're alone? All alone?"

Cael offered her a roguish grin from over his shoulder, and his eyes widened with something akin to insanity. "Exciting, isn't it?" he whispered.

Adeon watched as Catherine observed the shapes in the crowd around them, equal parts fair and nightmarish. A long brown coat with a jaunty hat sitting atop it was lumped into a chair to their left, seemingly empty until something squirmed inside of the fabric and peered out at them from beneath the brim of the hat with round, pale eyes. Plump creatures with dark skin and twitchy pink noses like a rats were casting sidelong glances at the three of them while they shared a wooden pipe, muttering darkly to one another. A beautiful pale-haired man with pointed ears, wearing fistfuls of silver rings, was watching them pass, and when he met Catherine's eye, his leer exposed rows of pointed silver teeth like tiny daggers. She abruptly turned and looked up at Adeon.

"We're all going to die here," she decided.

"Oh, don't be so grim. It's unbecoming of a lady," Cael said, his eyes scanning the sea of faces. For a moment Catherine looked as if she were about to slap him, but she paused when his face brightened. "Besides," he continued, "I think I've found Niallian." He made a sudden beeline towards a crowded table, and Adeon kept a firm grip on Catherine's shoulder as they followed him.

Once Cael had reached the edge of the table, he promptly dunked his hand into a large goblet of wine. When he withdrew them, a tiny man was dangling from his fingers by a pair of iridescent wings that were backed by hard, glossy black shields--almost like a large beetle's. He couldn't have been more than six inches tall. His skin was a mottled blue and tight with sinewy muscle, although a tiny paunch that spoke of excessive celebration strained at the buttons of his wine-soaked trousers. He shook his sopping-wet mane of navy-hued hair out from his face.

"Hello, Niallian," Cael said with a wide smile, and the little man frowned muzzily up at him before his beady black eyes grew wide with inebriated despair.

"First frost take me," he slurred. "It's you."

"I think you know why I'm here," Cael continued. Catherine gawked at the man hanging in Cael's clutches in horror, and Adeon resisted the urge to break into bouts of maniacal, doomed laughter. Of course Cael's acquaintance was half a foot tall. Of course he was. They really were going to die in this dark hole of a city.

"Aye, the boon, the boon," the little man sighed, breaking off with a hiccough and smearing the layer of wine from his face with a tiny hand. "Fine. What is it y'want?" An ancient, well-dressed man glanced curiously back at them with milky eyes, and Cael quickly turned his back to him. Adeon and Catherine followed his lead.

"Your finest troops at the top of the Whispering Mountains by daybreak tomorrow," he hissed. Niallian's face grew slack with disbelief, and Cael responded by giving him a violent shake. The motion muffled the sounds of his sputtering. "Do you have something better to do?" Cael demanded, and Niallian flailed his minuscule hands.

"It isn't like that," he began, and Catherine knelt closer to Niallian.

"Please," she murmured. He looked determinedly up at the ceiling as she continued to speak. "It's really very important. Men are coming to kill all of the dragons, and once they're finished, we think they might come for you, too." Niallian chanced a look at her once she finished, and when he saw her pleading stare, he cleared his throat, looking at a loss for words.

"Sounds like nonsense to me," he finally grunted. "Men killing all the dragons. Men killing all the fairies, as if they'd dare--" He paused when he observed their solemn expressions. "Gods and pigeons above us all. You're not pulling my leg at all, are you?" he croaked. "But...to lead an army into battle without the King's orders..." He cringed. "He'd rend me limb from limb himself."

"Why wait for him?" Adeon mused, flexing his long fingers menacingly and leaning in close. Niallian writhed helplessly in Cael's grip.

"I won't do it!" he declared in a shrill voice. "It's a death sentence for me, completely impossible--!"

He stopped short when Cael's grip loosened on his wings, sending him plummeting to the stone floor. Adeon looked up sharply just in time to see massive green hands seize Cael's shoulders and jerk him backwards, and he quickly encircled Catherine's wrists with his fingers when he saw another enormous, green figure shoving its way towards them through the crowd.

As he dragged her behind him, weaving through the mass of people in a sprint, he had just enough time to catch a glimpse of two curved tusks. Faces leered at them as they ran. A sea of hands reached out to grab at them. The hall was suddenly much too loud; filled with horrible cackles and gleeful screeches.

"What about Cael?" Catherine cried from behind him, trailing off in a squeal as a crone of a woman seized her hips with spindly fingers. With Adeon's pull on her wrist and a few kicks of her legs, she managed to break free.

"Damn him," Adeon snarled, but the crowd was closing in around them, forming a wall on all sides. He was forced to skid to a halt. "Catherine," he choked, turning to face her, but with a scream, she was wrenched out of his grip. "Catherine!" he shouted. He dove through the wild crowd, shouldering roughly past the masses of creatures that snarled and snapped and pinched at his flesh, and he had only just caught hold of the toe of her slippered foot when they both toppled out from the chaos and onto a clear patch of stone floor. Grimacing, Adeon pushed himself up into a crouch. Cael was on his knees beside Catherine and staring woefully at the floor, and when Adeon looked up, his mouth opened in dismay.

They were at the base of the ancient stone platform, knelt at the feet of the King.

He was tall and lithe beneath his fine clothes--a deep blue tunic of something more luxurious than velvet over a creamy shirt with billowing sleeves, all dripping with embroidered silver save for his black trousers--and black hair fell in a straight pane down to just above his breast. A silver crown sat atop his pale brow, accented by a pair of massive ivory antlers that nearly spanned the width of his broad shoulders. His eyes, which were an eerie, glacial blue, scrutinized them with unsettling interest. He was flanked on either side by several other well-dressed fairy lords and ladies, and Adeon spotted Lucia perched on the far end of the platform. Her legs swung idly through the air, and she looked almost bored as the king's mouth opened to speak.

"My, my," he said in a soft little drone that still seemed to echo richly throughout the room. "What a delightful surprise. I don't recall inviting any dragons." He gazed down the length of his sculpted, impishly pointed nose at Catherine, who was on her knees in between Cael and Adeon. "And you've brought me a present. It's been an age since a mortal has graced our halls," he added. His full lips split into a smile as he spoke. Catherine shuddered.

"Our sincerest apologies," Cael intoned. When Adeon glanced back at him, he had dropped into an impossibly low bow. His nose was becoming closely acquainted with the stone floor. "We meant no offense. I only came to claim a debt owed to me by one of your subjects--"

"A debt? From mine?" The King leaned forward ever so slightly. His slender fingers, studded with rings of opal and icy quartz, gripped the edge of the dark wooden throne in a decidedly eager way. "Surely you're mistaken. I do not command a court of fools."

"O-of course not," Cael babbled, "but mistakes do happen--"

"Who?" the King asked delicately.

Cael wet his lips. "A commander by the name of Niallian, as it were."

The King's eerily pale eyes made a slow trek towards the edge of the crowd, where one of the cloven-hooved women was emerging with Niallian cupped in her dainty palm. He was snoozing gently, his snore a tinny whine in the enormity of the hall. The King lifted his dark brows.

"He will be dealt with accordingly," he said. The woman bowed and wove her way back through the crowd, and the King fixed his gaze once again upon Cael. "Tell me the nature of this debt," he continued, steepling his fingers pensively in front of his lips. "I am a generous king. Perhaps I might fulfill it in his stead."

Cael coughed suddenly, sending a cloud up dust swirling up from the floor. His shoulders were a rigid line of anxiety. "So generous," he choked.

Behind his fingers, the King's mouth curved into a smile. "I know."

From the corner of Adeon's vision, he saw Cael's eyes squint frantically shut. "There is an impending attack upon us," he finally bit out. "An army of men plans to lay siege to our mountains. I only hoped to increase our numbers..." But the King's face had already contorted into an ancient mask of spite, and when Cael chanced a look up at him, he trailed off into silence.

"You have intruded upon my celebration," he said, deadly-soft, "brought a mortal into my court--all for the purposes of a waging war against man with my own army, without my consent." It wasn't a question. Cael went limp with surrender and leaned his forehead against the stone floor.

"Yes," he groaned. The King gazed down at him thoughtfully for a moment.

"I know you," he said. Cael stared down at the floor, and Adeon shot him a look of deep hatred.

"I--"

"You," the King continued, shaking a finger at Cael in realization, "are the silver-tongued fool who absconded with my mead all of those years ago. Was it two barrels? Five?" The lords and ladies around him exchanged scandalized murmurs.

"Petty details," Cael muttered. "I haven't the mind for those."

"Perfect," the King said gleefully. "Well, at least your intrusion wasn't all for naught. You will all offer me a great deal of amusement for the next fortnight, I think. I plan on taking the cost of that mead from your hide."