Chapter 15: Rise Of The Wild Hunt

I took a step toward Quaid, ready to go back to the house and fetch the cache of money, when the ground under my feet began to shake. Galleytrot's howl jerked me to a halt at the same instant. I stared as he began to glow with faint green magic, eyes flaring with red fire. Ethie and Gabriel lurched awake where he'd lain beside them, eyes wide and staring. I rushed toward them, Quaid and my parents on my heels, as the great hound began to grow.

"Syd!" His huge voice like a spring thunderstorm boomed through the cavern. "The Wild Hunt is waking."

Damn it, now? Perfect freaking timing.

I gathered Ethie into my arms, Quaid releasing my silver Persian to hoist Gabriel as Mom and Dad hovered next to us. Sassafras scampered to me to sit on my feet, tail thrashing.

"Do something." He looked up at me, amber eyes sparking with magic.

I gritted my teeth, reaching deep beneath me to touch the Wild Hunt. "I can't," I said, hating it was true as Shaylee struggled to soothe and calm the trapped spirit of her love and his enchanted hunters. "The move was too much, the smothering of power broke the tether. They're rising."

Galleytrot howled again, the black hound reaching massive height, shoulders arching up toward the perma light.

I promised them, Gwynn and his people. I said they could sleep, safe and protected, in my back yard. And I failed them. There was no way I was going to let them tear this place apart, my family unprotected. Or, once risen, leave the Wild Hunt vulnerable to possible use and control under the Brotherhood. Belaisle would be invincible with all that magic at his control.

There had to be another way.

One, Shaylee sent, hesitant. If they will agree.

And it was she who reached for the veil this time, who opened the way. To the Sidhe realm.

The scene before me gave me hope and a further dash of anxiety. The worry was born from the dead, flat look on the queen of the Seelie's face. Aoilainn still blamed me for the loss of her daughter, though it was she who had her put to death on false pretenses. But my surge of maybe this might work rose from the way Odhran, king of the Unseelie and Aoilainn's counterpart, met my eyes with his.

"Sydlynn Hayle," he said in his deep voice, the waves of the ocean crashing against a rocky shoreline, dark brow heavy over his eyes. "You have need?"

How did he know? "Here's the deal," I said, abandoning any and all attempt to be formal. That would take time, the flowery, double talk of the Sidhe just too much for me to handle right now. "The Brotherhood control the North American territory-and maybe the whole plane. I had to move our family to save them. And the Wild Hunt is rising." Both monarchs blinked at me. "Too fast for you?"

Odhran's scowl wasn't aimed at me. "How can we assist?"

Aoilainn glanced sideways at him, but didn't make the same offer. Screw her. Shaylee's mom was a bitch and always would be.

Agreed, Shaylee sighed in my head. But we need her if this is to work. Allow me. I felt her gently nudge me aside and let her do so, though I cast a quick glance at Galleytrot, who had stopped growing and stood, panting, over the cowering coven.

"Mother," Shaylee said, "dear Odhran. The time of the Wild Hunt must end."

She said what? That was possible?

Aoilainn's brow quirked, a tiny frown in her perfection. The ground beneath me heaved at the same moment, making me stumble. We had minutes, if that. She must have seen it. And yet, the Seelie queen simply shrugged.

"They were created to cleanse that plane," she said, cool and precise. "When the time of the humans was done and we could again reclaim our original home."

Odhran nodded slowly, though he seemed far more concerned. "Aoilainn is correct," he said.

They couldn't be serious. "Listen up," I snapped, shoving Shaylee aside. "Your little plan to take back this plane is how freaking old now?" Neither commented. "Does it really look like we're going away any time soon?" I snapped my fingers at them. "Either disband the Wild Hunt or I send them through after you."

I'd never threatened Odhran before, and didn't really want to. We'd been allies pretty much since the first time he tried to intimidate me. But, damn it, my family was locked in this cavern with the Wild Hunt about to rise and I would not expose them by making them leave.

Would. Not.

"Don't push us, Sydlynn," Aoilainn said.

Oh no, she did not. "I'll push you so hard your whole realm falls to pieces around you." Okay, so I snapped. Sue me. "I've saved your sorry Sidhe asses how many times now? Deal with your mess. Or I'll deal with you. Permanently."

Syd. Temper.

Even Odhran didn't like that so much. "While we owe you, it's true," he said, leaning back in his throne as their stupid magic tried to destroy the floor under me and Galleytrot stomped one step closer, "you have not earned the right to order us in our own realm."

Shut. Up. I could feel the vein in my forehead throbbing, the need to leap through and show the two of them just what I thought of their arrogance so powerful I was shaking. Or was that the damned floor again? Hard to tell.

Galleytrot saved me the trouble. He bent his now massive, boulder sized head and glared through the tiny gap at the pair of Sidhe monarchs.

"Bring us home," he rumbled, the pressure of his voice blowing Aoilainn's hair back, rattling the dishes on the elaborate table where they sat, tearing one of the gauze curtains behind the queen almost in half. "Now."

Odhran opened his mouth to speak just as a tall, Goth-like Sidhe stormed into view. She spun to face me, expression furious, spiked black hair vibrating. Though when Queen Niamh of the Unseelie spoke, I knew it wasn't me she was angry with.

"Sydlynn Hayle," she said, dark rimmed eyes as black as Galleytrot's, "ignore these fools. Send the Wild Hunt home. They were our problem when they were first created and we will take responsibility for them once again."

They were what? "I thought the Wild Hunt was created to cleanse this plane?" That was what I was taught, what the pair of frowning but slightly guilty looking monarchs behind me had just said. Don't tell me I'd been lied to all this time.

I would not be happy.

Even Galleytrot seemed confused. "I know not what you mean, great queen of the Unseelie," he boomed.

She sighed, cocked one hip, fist resting on the shining, skin tight leather hugging her tall, lean body. Niamh gestured with the other, a dark sprite who reminded me more of a rock star than a Sidhe queen.

"You wouldn't," she said. "Great hound, you were added to the Wild Hunt a century after Gwynn ap Nudd went mad and we were forced to remove him and his supporters from our realm."

Went mad? Shaylee gasped in my head. "Over my death." She spoke through me, but Niamh must have known it was the former Sidhe princess. Killed by her people over the supposed blood magic attack on her sister, Cydia. A lie, a jealous untruth on Shaylee's wedding day that ended her life.

"They made the story all pretty, over time," she said, glaring over her shoulder at her fellow monarchs. Her husband looked decidedly uncomfortable. "Convinced themselves it was their design originally. But I was there when they worked together for the first time in the history of the Sidhe." Her tone softened, face, too. "Shaylee, when you died, Gwynn blamed himself. His grief was so powerful he gathered a group of fellow Sidhe, Seelie and Unseelie, and created the Wild Hunt himself as a punishment for the Sidhe for destroying his true love."

Well, how do you like them apples?

"Send them home, Syd," Niamh said. "It's time."

Good thing she thought so. Because Gwynn ap Nudd chose that exact moment to surface.

The floor cracked at last, sending shards flying everywhere. I did my best, my demon assisting, to shield the family as a giant hole opened in the floor. Galleytrot turned, a mournful howl rising from him when a huge black horse, eyes flaming red like the hound's, burst from the ground. The tall, blond Sidhe on his back rode forward, the Wild surging after him, though the space could not contain them. A handful of hounds, like Galleytrot but of much smaller stature, loped out of the ground to stand at their master's feet.

I breathed a soft sigh of relief at the muffled feeling of the Wild Hunt. Even they were being controlled by the power of the wards, though the moment it began to rain, a soft, miserable drizzle over all of us, I knew Gwynn wouldn't allow such controls to keep him and his people contained for long.

"Shaylee." His voice sounded hollow, as though coming from a great distance, face blank and cold.

"My lord," Shaylee said. "My love."

His eyes shifted to Galleytrot. "We were meant to rest," he said. "Has the time come so soon?"

"No, my lord," the big hound said. "We are to be freed at last."

Gwynn's whole body twitched, the hounds at his feet whining softly as his black steed stomped one fore hoof. "Explain."

I drew a breath, let Shaylee take over. "Your time here has come to an end," she said, slowly approaching him, forcing my body into calm though I fought her a few times and my demon snarled her worry. "Your hurt and pain have gone on long enough, my love. Surely you are ready to return home?"

Gwynn's expression finally altered. I could see now the line of riders waiting in the hole behind him, the Wild Hunt ready to rise and destroy at his calling. But even some of those looked suddenly hopeful, where once only darkness held their terrible beauty in thrall.

"How is this possible?" His face crumpled. "You are gone and I have nothing."

"You have your life," she said. "A life everlasting. And your punishment has gone on long enough." She pushed us forward again, to press one hand to his thigh, the hounds sniffing around us, shivering flank of his horse next to our cheek. The scent of a summer thunderstorm and the zinging touch of coming lightning almost broke her hold, but she clung to him and I clung to her, hoping she knew what she was doing. "Darling Gwynn," she said. "Your rest is ended. Life must begin again."

"I would remain with you." Hope blossomed in his eyes and the entire power structure of the Wild Hunt sighed, what little made it through the wards. The rain stopped, a faint mist rising as the temperature warmed to a summer's afternoon.

"You must go to the realm," she said with gentleness I would never have been able to muster. "And I must abide here."

At first I was sure he was going to flip out and go on a stormy spree of destruction. But he finally sighed, looked up and past Galleytrot. To Niamh and Aoilainn and Odhran. He saluted, his horse snorting. "My queen," he said, voice full of sorrow. "I would come home again."

And that was that, right? I turned, stared Aoilainn down. She could ruin everything, with one selfish word. But her face twisted in sorrow of her own as she bowed her head.

"Return, Gwynn ap Nudd," she said. "Reminder of what I have lost. And be welcome."

I stepped back as Gwynn's horse pranced past me, to one side. The coven remained tucked against the walls, staring as, one by one, the riders of the Wild Hunt, their faces now glowing with joy where once they'd held only the desire to destroy, passed through the gap in the veil.

The hounds followed, panting, heads down, leaving, at last, only Gwynn behind. Galleytrot shrank in size as the procession passed him, until he was again just the big dog I knew so well. My heart tore as I realized setting free the Wild Hunt meant he would most likely be going with them.

What would I tell the kids? I crossed to Quaid and my children, Ethie's arms wrapping around my neck, weeping. They'd lost their home and what stability they knew. Their little hearts would shatter to lose Galleytrot now.

"He's leaving, isn't he?" She buried her little face in my shoulder before bravely looking up, watching as Gwynn dismounted from his horse and approached Galleytrot.

The big Sidhe fell to one knee before the hound, gold armor clanking on the stone as he did. Oversized, the pair of them, a knight of old and his faithful dog. My throat tightened and I kissed Ethie's forehead, ready to say goodbye to my friend.

"Galleytrot." Gwynn's hand settled on the hound's shoulder. "I've missed you in my sleep, faithful one."

"And I you, my master," the big dog said. "But I've had comfort with these witches," he nodded toward me, "and their children."

Gwynn glanced sideways at me, eyes widening at the sight of Gabriel clinging to Quaid. "A Gateway?"

That shook me. "How did you know?"

Gwynn sighed, stood, one hand on Galleytrot's head. "Keep him safe," he said, sorrow in his tone. "He will be the savior-or the downfall-of all." The big Sidhe saluted my son. "Think well of me, from time to time, Lord of the Gateway. Gwynn ap Nudd will always be at your service."

Gabriel saluted back, bowed his head, face grave.

Gwynn paused one more moment, eyes locked on mine. "Farewell, Shaylee," he said. "I will wait for you. But you are right." He looked down at his gauntleted hands. "I've been too long in despair." He strode for the edge of the veil, Galleytrot at his heels, head hanging low, not looking at us.

I cuddled Ethie close, not wanting her to watch, only to see my son wriggle from Quaid's arms and run for the hound. He grasped Galleytrot around the neck, looking up at Gwynn who towered over Gabriel like a statue.

"Please, sir," my son said in his sweet voice. "Can't he stay?"

Gwynn's face broke into a smile, shocking me. "Galleytrot," he said, a hint of happiness in his voice. "Is this what you wish as well?"

The big dog shuddered slightly, sank to his haunches. "You know I was once a terrible man," he said. "With a heart as black as any you'd encountered." Gwynn nodded. "But this life you've given me, as a hound, has served its purpose. Even more so since my time spent with the Hayles." The big dog turned to look down into Gabriel's eyes. "I've grown to love this family," he said, massive voice quiet for once. "And though if you needed me I would go with you, I would ask instead you grant my boon to guard them as I guarded you, my lord."

Gwynn nodded, a real smile on his face. "Then," he said, "like I, dear hound, you are free."

Without another word, Gwynn crossed over the veil and stepped into his realm for the first time in millennia.

Niamh nodded to me. "Be well, Sydlynn Hayle," she said. And sealed the way between us.

Silence met the closing of the veil, and for a long moment no one said anything or moved, as a boy and his dog hugged in the fading mist, the only sound the soft panting of the hound and the quiet weeping of my son.

***