Jamaica Blue Magic: Chapter 15

Time to look in on the other player in this game...

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Chapter 15.

Jared checked himself in the polished glass of his car’s windows one last time before walking up the white gravel pathway to the villa. He was already somewhat concerned; there was no sign of the level of security he felt was necessary, given the circumstances. There had been adequate security on Aphrodite’s yacht, a few years ago when he had first met her, but here there seemed to be no more than the standard for any private villa.

He reached the door; he thought there might have been a flicker of movement inside, as of someone who had glanced through a curtain, but couldn't be sure. He was fairly certain, however, that there was no one observing the house at the moment, which was something of a relief. He pressed the button next to the door.

Only a moment passed between the chime of the bell and the door opening. Jared recognized the classically handsome, olive-skinned fae instantly. "Good morning, Hermes," he said.

Hermes's gaze was not the open, friendly one Jared remembered from a few years back; the hazel eyes were ever-so-slightly narrowed, the expression guarded. Nonetheless, Hermes gave a formal smile and a bow and gestured for him to enter. "Prince Engelshand. Please, come in."

"My apologies for intruding." Jared entered. "And my thanks for arranging my audience so swiftly."

There might have been the faintest raise of an eyebrow at his phrasing, but if so it was gone before Jared could be sure. He is obviously tense in a way I have not seen him before. Jared didn't know what to make of it; the little he’d seen of Hermes previously, however, had been when Hermes was on the much lower strata of fae society, tending bar and, potentially, depending on the guest list, literally being one of the drinks on tap. Here he appeared to be serving in a much higher capacity, which might well make him more tense and cautious.

And, of course, I am no longer "young Prince Engelshand who might be marrying one of the guests" but "Jared Engelshand who is said to be studying the ways of the old Hunters". And that undoubtedly makes them nervous.

"You are welcome," Hermes said after only a moment’s pause. "Please follow me; the Lady is on the terrace."

The terrace was tiled in pink and white, partially shaded by palm trees, and overlooked part of the Bay. The morning sunlight sparkled white and green from the water. Chairs were placed near the railing, in a position to take the most advantage of the view. In one of these, seated with a small table to one side, was Aphrodite Niccoli.

It was at that point that an utterly unaccustomed nervousness assailed Jared. He had come here partly from duty to his sister, partly because he did not wish to continue to subject himself to the now-tedious rounds of the school year, and partly from the self-image of himself as a modern knight-errant. But seeing Aphrodite brought home the full realization that he was in out of his depth.

He remembered Aphrodite as a beautiful woman of emphatic figure, in appearance about twice the age he was then, echoing the legendary Marilyn Monroe, but with the same unearthly presence that the fae always had when not cloaking themselves from attention. But now…

The presence, the aura, it was still present… but muted, sad, not the warm and supportive emanation that had surrounded her. The face had gained the lines of years, of two or three decades, and the hair was no longer glorious and lush but dull, with traceries of ash-gray wiping out the former color. She had aged twenty-five or even thirty years in what had been mere days, and Jared felt a piercing, cold realization of what must be happening to her.

Fae bond with their match, and to sever that bond is almost always lethal. I have known this for years now… but I have never seen it before. Seeing Aphrodite’s wan face and almost-lifeless gaze, Jared understood that the pain of his losses was but a pale imitation of what one who had been bound to another, body and soul, must feel when that other half was no more.

He bowed very low. "Lady Aphrodite, I first bring my utmost sympathies and condolences for your loss."

Even her nod was slow, an unmistakable effort, as though she were moving not her own head but a great and heavy stone. "Thank you, Prince Engelshand."

"I also come to offer you any aid within my power, if there is anything I might do for you," he said. Though I now wonder what I might possibly do for one so bereaved.

The offer, however, seemed to touch something within Aphrodite, and she sat just the tiniest bit straighter. "I do not know that there is anything you might do, Prince… and wonder at the offer. We have not known each other well, and, indeed, I am surprised you knew what had happened so swiftly."

He smiled, trying to keep the expression natural. "It is true we have seen each other but twice only, yet my sister Ophelia has known both of you far better and longer, and it was she who asked that I might come."

"Ophelia?" Aphrodite and Hermes repeated the name with some surprise, but Jared—with relief—saw dawning understanding on both their faces. "She has indeed supported our cause for some time," Aphrodite went on, "and you should thank her for this consideration. It was most thoughtful of her."

"I shall do so, most certainly."

"But why did she not come herself? Why send you?"

That, at least, Jared thought he could answer. "Because of all the family, I am the one most versed in these things, especially given what happened to Antonio. She knew I would welcome a chance to help someone in… well, your world." A smile that he could feel was a touch tremulous, but perhaps that was to the good. "After my own losses—which I know do not compare—the thought of doing good for those I remember fondly, well, it means something to me."

"Ah." She was quiet for a moment.

Hermes stepped forward. "I must speak plainly, Prince Engelshand. My Lady is but a day or three from her loss. I will not have nobles of the various bloods looking to take advantage of her in this, her most vulnerable time."

For a moment, Jared could not even grasp what Hermes was trying to say. When it finally dawned on him, he felt a cold anger rise up within him; it took a huge effort to force the fury back, to control it, to prevent anything but the merest trace from entering his voice. "Do you … are you saying you think I have come to take advantage of her? To… what, re-bond her?"

Hermes did not drop his level gaze. "It is the traditional way of … ‘saving' a fae. Usually, in fact, it is the only way, and of course in Lady Aphrodite’s case it would be immensely profitable to the successful… suitor."

The anger broke through. "I have come to offer help, not to be some sort of jackal! Gott in Himmel, I still do not sleep well for the memories of Fiona, do you think I would be so… so callous, so—"

"The timing is suspicious, Prince Engelshand. A better suspicion for you than that I wonder about you coming here wearing that weapon, fresh from—"

"Hermes!" Aphrodite’s voice was stronger, with a note of affection and amusement. "It is enough."

"But my Lady—"

"Enough, Hermes. I can hear his voice. Can you not hear it? He is young, Hermes, and the young can be honest." She looked up, her eyes gazing at the hilt of the Silbernseele. "How is your ancestor, Jared?"

"He is well, last I spoke with him," Jared answered. "He has been training me, as I presume you know."

"It has been mentioned." There was a ghost of a smile on her face for an instant. "It is good to hear he has taken another apprentice at last."

Jared knew there was some history between Aphrodite and his ancestor, Balder Engelshand—what sounded like a grand romantic tragedy, according to some rumors. However it really was, she clearly still thought fondly of him. "I am truly honored to be his student."

"You study to be a Witch Hunter," Hermes said, his voice less confrontational but still wary. "And you know what that means."

Unfortunately, yes. He tried to measure the proper response. "I know what many bearing that title have done," he said finally. "That is not my intent."

"Let us not speak of such things," Aphrodite said, cutting Hermes off. "Please be seated, Jared."

He did not notice how she summoned her servants, but even as he sat, two dark-haired young women entered the room, carrying trays. One was slender, with narrow features and an emphatically Roman nose between hazel-brown eyes and hair cascading in tight chestnut ringlets across her shoulders; the other was more generous of figure, echoing her mistress, her olive skin almost as dark as her eyes; her hair also curled tightly, but pulled back from her face and tied off by a colorful scarf.

Both of them also had the undefinable something that told Jared they were not human, but fae.

The two deposited the trays and bowed. "Thank you, Eurydice," Aphrodite said to the slender one. "And to you, Europa."

It did not escape Jared’s notice that she made no move to take either food or drink. And she is no undead, nor vampire that can live on blood alone. His eyes met those of Hermes, and he saw there the fae’s deep concern. And that is why he is so protective of her.

"May I pour you a cup of tea, Lady Aphrodite?" he asked. It was a reasonably natural suggestion, and her answer might at least show him what the situation was.

She waved him away, gently. "I need nothing now. Thank you, Jared." The Lady’s eyes studied him with a brief moment of sharp interest, a moment in stark contrast to the apathy that filled most of her moments. "So, you do not come to rescue me in the manner of our people, then?"

He tried to prevent a touch of color from appearing in his cheeks; he suspected he was not entirely successful. "Ah… Lady Aphrodite, no. That is not at all … well, not my way, certainly. Even were I past my own loss, I would hardly think it proper to intrude on someone who knew me only casually and, well…"

The Aphrodite he had met on board her yacht might have laughed; this Aphrodite showed only the slightest trace of a smile. "But that is almost the only manner in which I might be aided, Jared." The hint of a smile evaporated and Jared saw an aching void behind her gaze.

"Ophelia spoke of the work you and Antonio had done, were doing, Lady Aphrodite. I know this is a terrible blow to you, but perhaps if I could at least support that it could assist in some small way…"

He trailed off as she smiled again, but this was a ghastly expression, an amusement not merely of the gallows, but of one who thinks she looks already from the other side of a grave. "Ah, Jared, were it so simple. I find it almost impossible to think of our work together, to bring myself to feel it, to care about it. To care, even, about caring. For the sake of young Ophelia, and for the memory of sweet Balder, I have agreed to speak with you… but I do not see anything but gray before me, and I care for nothing… and dare care for nothing."

That terrible gaze sent a chill down his spine. "But surely… there must be something, Lady."

She closed her eyes, opened them again with a visible effort, and that frightening look was weakened. She studied him again, eyes haunted with fading spirit. "You were never bonded to Fiona, were you?"

"No," he said, and the sting in his eyes, the hoarseness in his voice, surprised him anew. He wanted to be angry at the loss of control, but … there was no shame in feeling pain at his loss. "We had no chance to do so. We had spoken of … what that would entail. What it would mean were I to do so."

And there was Felicity. He had only met her once, but very nearly the bonding had happened, in the space of a single long encounter. Would have happened, had it not been for honor and Fiona… and for his recognition that their encounter had been arranged, intended as the most subtle and pleasurable trap imaginable.

No need to trouble Aphrodite with that; it was a personal pain, for himself and Felicity, not for others, and it had not changed his course. In the end, it had been Fiona who ruled his heart. "But for so long we were friends, not … anything more. That was what she wanted for a long time… and then there was Sean…" He shook his head. "But no, it …" He remembered dances that blurred into something transcendent, the two trembling on the edge of becoming one."… it had begun. We were connected, already touching each other on levels normal humans would not. But there was no time. She was on her way to meet me when…"

He found he couldn't continue, even the iron discipline he had tried to cultivate all his life failing.

Her hand touched his for just an instant; he felt her dim but sincere sympathy resonate in the touch. "Apologies," she said. "But you understand, then, that even what you feel—and I sense that pain clearly—even that is but a shadow, a dim and inadequate reflection of the bond that I shared with Antonio. We loved each other as you loved her, yes, and if you will pardon my saying so, far more, for we had so many more years to come to know each other; but we were also bound, soul to soul, blood to blood, and it is no mere turn of phrase but simple truth to say that when he died, a part of me died with him, was torn from me, no less a wound than it would have been to tear your own arm from its socket."

Jared shuddered; he could sense the truth in her words, and knowing what his own black moods were like, his anger and loss and depth of sorrow, he could not begin to imagine what she must be feeling. Stronger than I had even guessed, for her to be speaking with me in this way. "Then… I do not see how even another, well, fae or vampire might—"

"Because," Hermes broke in, harshly, but then with visible effort moderating his tone, "because… a part of a fae yearns for that connection, that bond, knows that if they make another such bond the pain will fade and stop, become only the emotion and not part of their very soul’s raw wound."

"I… understand." Realizing how little he had understood, Jared had a momentary impulse to just rise and take his leave. Fiona, and sometimes Keenan, had explained some of this to him before, but he had never been faced with it, and the whole situation made his arrival… well, arrogant. The perhaps well-meaning but painful, bumbling intrusion of a boor into a house of mourning, all because he had a vision of himself as a Knight.

Instead, he forced himself to take a sip of tea and thought on what had brought him here. "I was told, however, that it was possible for a fae to survive such a loss."

"It is possible," Hermes said. "But it is not likely. And if she does, she may not be herself."

"Hermes is right," Aphrodite said quietly. "I have no strength to fight. Without Antonio… it seems that all meaning has fled."

"I understand. As much as it is possible for someone as young and, well, human as myself to do so, anyway," Jared said. That ghost of a smile answered him. "But… you and Antonio were doing great works, for the sake of the Mother and others. You do not want that to go to waste, to end, do you?"

She raised an eyebrow. "You know of the Mother?"

"Of her, yes. I cannot say I know much more than that. I know the Veil has fallen, or started to, and that this is supposed to aid the Mother in her recovery."

"Still… that makes you unusual, even more so for your people. Do you believe in the Mother, Jared?"

He remembered Keenan and Claudius speaking of the way of the world, of its spirit… and Fiona, both believer and cynic in her own way, still telling him that there was truth in the legend. "I do. I do not understand the Mother, what lies behind that word, but I believe that it… that she… exists." He leaned forward. "And I believe—very sincerely—that you are one the Mother would miss."

A touch of a smile. "And the Engelshand charm has not diminished. That is more kindly spoken than you might realize, Jared. But the Mother has far greater concerns than one single fae."

Jared was unsure how to answer that, and Aphrodite was silent. Say something. Find out something. Understand. "If I might ask, when Hermes expressed his—I now understand completely justified—suspicion of my motives, he mentioned that it would be 'immensely profitable' for a successful suitor. How did he mean that? Simply that you are a woman of substantial fortune?"

It was Hermes who answered, with brows raised in surprise. "You truly do not understand our world yet, do you?"

"Only those parts I have been shown; to truly understand might take a lifetime."

"A fae such as Aphrodite is not generally allowed to have property to herself. If, within a reasonable time, another vampire or a lord of appropriate station were to bond with her, they would inherit all of Antonio’s holdings as well as those which are held in… trust, I suppose one might say, by Aphrodite."

Not allowed to own property? Jared had known of the "blood houses"—where the so-called lesser fae, those of less pure or less humanoid extraction were sent. That had been one of Fiona’s goals, the destruction of that practice. But the idea that even high-born, wealthy, capable fae like Aphrodite were so constrained? Even more like slavery than I had realized. It is slavery, as Keenan had said, just slavery with lovely gilding about the edges. "And if she does not re-bond?"

"All she owns returns to Madame Blanche and her House. The same is, of course, true if Aphrodite fades away and passes."

It was outrageous, and outrage was his first impulse. But no; this was the world she had been raised in. It might be wrong, but in her current state his outrage would be of no use. He took a deep breath, clamping his jaw against the protests that immediately rose to his lips, and paused, thinking, before he allowed himself to speak again. "Surely there must be some way past that, at the least. Fiona, as I understood it, was to inherit—"

The most minuscule laugh escaped Aphrodite’s lips. "Oh, Jared, judge nothing of other fae by Fiona’s position. She was unique. The true destined Faerie Queen, the child of the Murray clan? The rules did not apply to her."

That… was not entirely true, Jared thought; he knew of at least two incidents that had shown how even Fiona was bound by law and tradition in ways no human would be. But that was a quibble, compared to the issues facing Aphrodite.

The moment of mirth and energy faded from Aphrodite’s face. "Perhaps there would be a way, but you do not understand, Jared: I am not even sure if I wish to continue."

That caught him off-guard. "But… Lady Aphrodite, please. Surely, Antonio’s death was no accident, and I would be terribly surprised if it was not related to your work. He would not wish you, or his work, to be lost so completely. Can I not offer you some protection—"

Her hand gestured—a small movement, but with the force of a fae’s will behind it, stopping him instantly. "Jared. Your sentiment is appreciated, but I have already told you; I am unsure if I even wish to live. If there are those who seek my life, I will have no one risk theirs to protect mine."

Jared caught Hermes’ tortured glance and understood how deeply the fae servant cared for his mistress. And he sees her in pain and is unable to help.

Which, it seems, is also my position, though at the least I am not so attached to her. It is not the same pain as the loss of Keenan and Fiona. He put down his teacup and rose slowly. "Then I apologize for my intrusion, Lady Aphrodite. I had hoped that there might be something I could do, but it seems I understood nothing of the situation."

She was silent, though she nodded faintly as he bowed. Hermes came forward to show Jared out.

Just as they reached the door, Aphrodite spoke again. "Jared. Wait."

He turned, perhaps a bit too quickly, but the flare of hope that he might be able to do something was not to be denied. "Yes, Lady Aphrodite?"

Another ghostly chuckle. "Oh, forget the 'Lady', Jared. Aphrodite is enough." She took a slow, deep breath that seemed to draw in strength, bring her head up. "I was wrong. There is one thing I think you might do. You see, Hermes, and Eurydice, and Europa are fae in my household."

"Indeed, Lad… er, indeed, Aphrodite." He waited for her to clarify the statement.

"They are part of my household," she said. Seeing him raise an eyebrow, she said, "a part of my estate, and that of Antonio."

Light dawned, and Jared felt his eyes widen. "You mean that they, too, would become part of Madame Blanc’s … possessions."

"Exactly, Jared. And I … do not want that to happen. Oh, technically they are already free; Antonio freed all of us—myself, Hermes, Eurydice, and Europa—years ago. But I am not at all sure the League will honor that if I die, or that even if I live I will have the mind to fight for them. I want them to be free, and that is not possible if the League takes them back. Only someone of noble house… someone who can take them somewhere beyond the reach of the League, can protect them."

Jared felt a slow smile emerging. "You mean, such as a noble of Engelshand, the country which repudiated the League a century and more ago."

"Exactly that … and one," this time her smile was not quite so weak, "one who descends in spirit as well as blood from Balder."

He laughed. "You wish me to take them in, bring them to Engelshand and ensure they can find their way to freedom—there or elsewhere. Yes, Aphrodite, that I swear I can and will do, if that time comes."

She sank back against the cushions, but for once it did not look like exhaustion, but relief. "Then that is all I would ask."

Hermes looked at him with surprise. "But your country—"

"Is already having to make some adjustments after my brother Seigfreid married a fae. Do not worry about it, Hermes; this much I know I can do, youngest son or not." He turned to Aphrodite. "Do not worry. They will be taken care of. Just make sure I know before the time comes, so I can arrange it."

"I shall. Thank you, Jared."

"It is nothing at all, Aphrodite." He bowed again, feeling his heart finally lightening. "If you need anything else—anything at all—I will be nearby, at our estate. Please call."

"I do not expect to need anything, Jared… but yes. If I do, I shall call."

He bowed again. This time there was nothing to halt him as Hermes led him out.

At the threshold, Hermes spoke. "Jared. I apologize for my earlier rudeness."

Jared grinned, feeling the very expression melting some of his own tension. "Hermes, there is nothing to apologize for. I did not understand at all, and you were protecting her." He offered his hand.

Hermes gripped it hard. "Thank you."

"No, thank you, for giving me the chance." He handed Hermes one of his cards. "In case you need to reach me."

The fae took the card and tucked it into one of his pockets. "I hope I will not need to."

"As do I."

As Jared drove off, he glanced in the rear-view mirror, seeing Hermes standing immobile, watching him leave. Remembering how Antonio had met his end, Jared silently prayed that Hermes really would have no need to call him.

But even with these thoughts, his heart was lighter. Perhaps there was nothing he could do to save Aphrodite—it was, in the end, her own decision whether to save herself. But there were three others he could help, three fae to be protected by the descendant of some of the greatest witch hunters in history. At that thought he laughed, and once more thought that somewhere, Fiona was laughing, too.