Azuri Fae

India Drummond

Description

A faerie prince disappears in the borderlands, and his father enlists the help of outcast Eilidh and her bonded druid, Quinton Munro. Tantalised with hints of a lost and ancient magic, they learn time is working against them every step of the way. Is the prince's disappearance related to the vanishing of an entire Scottish village?

Sujets

• Fantasy (canción de Mariah Carey)
• Fantasy

Informations

• Publié par: Trindlemoss Publishing
• Date de parution: 15 mars 2013
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781908436177
• Langue: English
• Poids de l'ouvrage: 1 Mo

Extrait

Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Acknowledgements
Fae Name Pronunciation Guide
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
A Note From the Author
More by India Drummond
Azuri Fae
by
India Drummond
Azuri Fae
Copyright © 2011, India Drummond
Editing by LJ Sellers
Book design by Trindlemoss Publishing
First Trindlemoss Publishing electronic publication: December 1, 2011
http://www.trindlemoss.com
eBooks are not transferable. All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. The unauthorised reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the publisher’s permission.
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organisations is entirely coincidental.
Published in the United Kingdom by Trindlemoss Publishing, 2011
epub ISBN: 978-1-908436-17-7
mobi ISBN: 978-1-908436-06-1
paperback ISBN: 978-1-908436-07-8
Acknowledgements
First and foremost, thank you to Bear: my son, my friend, and always my first choice of brainstorming and storytelling companions. He kept me on track and sparked my imagination, all the while not letting me stray and demanding that I be true to my inner voice.
Thanks also to my beta readers: Marsha, Patti, and Colin. You help me catch those little errors that elude me when I’m wrapped up in my faerie world.
Once again, I owe a huge debt to Inspector Dorian Marshall of the Tayside Police. His red pen kept me true, and I so appreciate the time he devoted to correcting any factual mistakes, not to mention my unintentional abuse of the Queen’s English. Any errors in police policy or procedure are completely my own.
Fae Name Pronunciation Guide
In order of appearance:
Eilidh: AY-lee
Saor: SAY-or
Imire: em-IRE
Teasair: TES-air
Cadhla: KY-lah
Eithne: AE-nyuh
Griogair: Gree-GAIR
Tràth: TRATH
Riddich: RID-ick
Qwe: KWAY
Flùranach: FLOO-ran-ak
Reine: RAH-nay
Sennera: seh-NAYR-ah
Mira: MEE-rah
Zdanye: ZDAH-nie
Dalyna: dah-LEE-nuh
Juliesse: ZHU-lee-ESS
Conwrey: KON-ray
Cane: KAYN
Frene: FREN
Vinye: VEN-yay
Setir: SEHT-eer
Chapter 1
Sarah McBride dug her elbow into her husband’s side. “There’s someone outside, Hamish.”
“It’s just a cat. Go back to sleep.” He started snoring again almost immediately.
“That wasn’t a cat I heard. Go see who it is.” She lay still in bed, hands shaking, afraid to breathe. Someone prowling around outside, and that great oaf of a husband was sleeping through it. Probably a pack of teenagers come to steal their telly for drug money. They might even come in and tie them both up.
Sarah swallowed and squeezed her eyes tight together. Hamish might not care, but she wasn’t about to lie there and let a roving band of hooded teens catch her unawares. They’d probably try to do unspeakable things to her. It had been twenty years since she’d been attacked in a pub in Dundee, and she had been young and stupid then, out drinking…alone. She wasn’t some vulnerable girl now. This time she would fight back.
“Hamish!” she hissed one last time with a sharp jab to his middle.
He sat up in the darkness, his tone barely civil. “It was just a dream. Now leave me to sleep. I have to get up in the morning.” Hamish rolled over, heaving his bulk onto his side, bouncing the mattress. “You’ll be the death of me, woman,” he mumbled into his pillow.
“Fine. I’ll do it.” Sarah got up and wrapped her dressing gown around her, tying it at the front. A crash in the side yard halted her progress. She glanced toward the front room, where the house phone sat in its charger. She wanted to call 999, get the police out to look. But if they came, they’d wake Hamish. If it did turn out to be nothing, she’d never hear the end of it. Best to make sure, then call.
She crept down the hall in the pitch black. Her heart pounded so loudly she almost couldn’t hear the intruders. She cursed her fear. She’d never wanted to feel this way again. Hamish couldn’t understand that. He was a hulking man who’d never felt intimidated by someone else’s size. Pausing in the hallway to collect herself, she caught sight of the gun cabinet in the spare room. It tempted her, but she decided against getting out one of Hamish’s shotguns. Until, that is, she heard the rattle of the side gate, followed by footsteps on the path. Sarah rushed to the drawer where Hamish kept the cabinet keys. So what if his shotgun certificate was expired? If it saved their lives, she didn’t care. Anyway, she only wanted to scare them. After she retrieved the gun, she slipped a couple of shells into her dressing gown pocket. Just in case.
It took all her courage to tiptoe down the hall, the open shotgun folded over her left arm, ready to receive the shells. How Hamish could sleep through this, she didn’t know, but anger burned inside her.
By the time she made it to the kitchen window and peeled back the blinds, her fear and anger had combined into a pulsing rush of adrenaline. Nobody would hurt her again.
A faint blue light came from the back garden, and shadowy figures stole around in the darkness. With trembling hands, Sarah slipped two shells into the back of the double barrel and snapped the gun closed. She knew better than to rush out with a gun that wasn’t ready to go. They’d only take it away and turn it on her.
She noticed her mobile on the kitchen counter. The phone went into her pocket. Again, just in case. She turned the deadbolt, unlocked the back door, and walked onto the steps. The cold winter air made her shiver. “I…” Sarah cleared her throat and spoke louder. “I know you’re out there. Clear off, you lot.” She heard her voice as though it was someone else’s.
The motion at the back of the garden stopped. “Come out where I can see you,” she shouted, “Before I start shooting.”
She held the stock of the gun in her left hand and with her right, reached into her pocket to get her mobile. Three figures slowly emerged. It was hard to make out their faces, but one might have been a girl. They looked young, but Sarah knew teenagers were the worst. She’d heard about an old man that was killed by a gang of them, just because he’d complained about their loud music. They’d kicked him to death on his own doorstep.
Sarah tapped the nine button on her mobile three times, hands shaking from the cold and adrenaline.
“Emergency Services. Which service do you require? Police, Fire, Ambulance?”
“I’ve got burglars,” Sarah said. “Three of ‘em.”
She heard a brief pause, then another voice came on the line. The smooth voice of a young woman. “Tayside Police. This is Alison. What’s your address?”
Sarah had to think. Why could she suddenly not think? “Eighty-two…
Suddenly, a man rushed her from the side. She hadn’t realised there were more. She spun and pointed the shotgun at him, dropping her mobile. Fumbling to put her finger on the trigger, she looked at her hand for just a moment.
The man moved fast, like a neon blur in the night. Her vision went funny, and she had difficulty focusing her eyes. How many were there? She couldn’t tell anymore. Four? Even more? Blood rushed through her veins.
“What in the name of hell is going on out here?” Hamish shouted from the doorway, startling her. “Sarah?” He sounded shocked, then serious. “Sarah, come into the house. Just step back to me, love.”
A distant and monotonously calm voice came from the phone, which had nestled in the Barberry bush. “What is your location, madam?”
Sarah didn’t turn to look at her husband. It was cold and wet, and fear kept her frozen to the spot. She kept her eye on the man who stood mere feet from her now. She couldn’t look away. He had the strangest eyes. They shone in the dark.
She tensed and her hands started to shake. Yet, despite the strange commotion around her, the young man held her attention. She felt peculiar, as though moving in slow motion.
Sarah stepped back toward Hamish, but her husband didn’t speak nor move. She glanced around wildly, realising everything had stopped dead. Everything but her and this man. Her breaths sounded loud in the stillness. She could see the other faces in the garden clearly now, as well as a bright glow that had suddenly appeared.
“You,” she said, doing her best to steady the shotgun as she raised it to point at his chest. “You get on out of here and take your friends with you. Hurry now. I don’t want to shoot you.” Her voice raised to a hysterical pitch. “Eighty-two Fordyce Way,” she yelled at the Barberry bush. “See?” she said. “The police are on their way. Just go. I don’t want trouble. You’ve got time to get out.” She couldn’t shake the strange feeling. The other burglars had frozen in place, and Hamish stood unnaturally still in the doorway.
“Time?” he said with a sad laugh. His accent sounded so strange. Probably some immigrant. “That’s all I’ve got.”
With a pop, a blue flash blinded her, and the last thing she felt was her finger squeezing the trigger.
∞
One week earlier…
“Ah, child, you look tired,” Imire said, holding the gate open for his daughter Eilidh.
She stepped into his garden and sank into an oak chair he’d carved with his own hands. In addition to being a scholar, Imire was a true artisan. The canopy of green overhead revealed the glow of starlight. “Life has become complicated.” She sighed. “I never understood humans before, thinking they were silly little ants