The Brotherhood of the Snake (Return of the Ancients Book 2) (10 page)

Rafael breathed hard, visibly struggling to regain his composure. Finally, he grated in a hoarse whisper, “What have you done, Jareth? I don’t have an escape route like you think. They’ll find out that you brought her here. Now none of us can return!”

My breath caught. It was one thing to hear Jareth prattle about being stuck. It was quite another to hear Rafael say we couldn’t escape.

But Jareth didn’t seem too worried. He seemed more concerned with brushing the drifting feathers off of his sleeves.

A sudden wave of panic rose to swallow me. At first, the words stuck in my dry throat, but after the third attempt I managed to croak, “I really can’t go home?”

All at once, Rafael’s expression became shuttered, and he seemed to fold in on himself.

I didn’t think he was going to answer me.

But then, his charismatic face filled with compassion and his brows lifted in sympathy. He was obviously troubled on my behalf. “I’ll see you safe and taken care of, I swear it.”

I nodded half-heartedly, noting his choice of words. He hadn’t
promised
he’d see me home.

Clenching his jaw, he added, “And forgive me, Sydney, I regret that you witnessed my foolish loss of control.” He waved an elegant hand over the jumbled mess of racks, boots, and clothing.

At that, Jareth tossed his head back with a rich laugh. “Foolish? I’d call that the first instance of real emotion you’ve ever displayed, your highness. And not even worthy of an apology.”

“I’ve had enough of you,” Rafael replied tersely, his eye-shadowed eyes taking on a dark look.

As they began to exchange barbs once again, I tuned out.

The fact that Rafael was pulling his usual trick of changing the subject instead of directly answering my question made me a bit worried that I really was stuck this time. And that conclusion made me want to yank the rest of the shelving down and scream louder than he had.

“I’m stuck in Avalon for real this time,” I interrupted in a fatalistic tone, and then added in a whisper, “I think I’m going to be sick."

Their bickering stopped abruptly.

Closing his eyes, Rafael drew his lips in a thin line and locked his jaw.

Jareth made a “pfft” sound. “And I thought only the Dark Fae were given to fits of drama,” he observed in a voice spiked with sarcasm.

I frowned. The switch in roles was peculiar. Rafael was usually the optimistic one.

But then Rafael pivoted smartly on his heel, and stepping over the twisted mass of clothing, boots, and hats, strode away towards his mirror at the end of the closet.

I hesitated only a moment before following. Even with the temper tantrum, I still trusted Rafael more. But as I brushed past Jareth, his hand clamped over my shoulder.

“Why did you skewer me, Sydney?” he growled, scratching his arm furiously once again. “And just what was on that fork?”

Collecting my scattered wits, I glanced down, surprised to discover that I was still holding it.

Jareth snatched it from my fingers and turned it at different angles before briefly touching the prongs to his bracelet.

A tiny spark of light leapt up to bathe the fork in a golden glow.

I knew I was going to have to ask about those sparks of light, but I just didn’t feel like it right then.

“Curious,” Jareth murmured. “It’s Lysol.”

“And I find it most curious that you’re not reacting to iron. Why is that, pray tell?” Rafael’s cool voice demanded. “Sydney mentioned that before.”

Jareth whipped around.

Rafael stood behind us. Neither one of us had noticed his return.

With a careless flick of his wrist, Jareth tossed the fork over his shoulder. “Looks like we both have secrets.” He shrugged as a slow, sarcastic smile curled over his lips.

They stood there, glaring at each other, and then Rafael made a chopping gesture and whirled around again, striding back towards his mirror.

We followed him to where the twenty-foot wide, lighted, floor-to-ceiling mirror spanned the entire wall. Several tall black stools and a black leather S-shaped couch were invitingly placed in front of it.

I wanted to ask again
why
I couldn’t go home right now when the mirror’s image made me pause, and the words died on my lips.

Raven’s image shimmered in the very center of its smooth surface. She was exquisite, with her honeyed smile, stunning eyes, and an elaborate mass of curls framing her perfect skin. A magnificent golden gown trailed behind her as she swayed and danced, spinning around in sweeping, graceful circles.

“So, you came back for Raven,” Jareth stated, slowly walking his fingers along the back of the couch, his eyes riveted on Raven’s twirling form.

Tilting his head to view the mirror from under half-closed lids, Rafael hesitated a moment before murmuring softly, “Yes. I had to speak with her.”

“Oh?” Jareth tilted his head sideways. “Perhaps you should never have broken the engagement.”

“Perhaps,” Rafael replied in a voice barely above a whisper.

I swallowed. If that didn’t stop my crush dead in its tracks, nothing would. But I was going to have to think about that later, I ordered myself firmly. Right now, I had more important things to worry about than humiliation and heartache over a teenage crush.

Clearing my throat, I switched subjects. “So, why can’t Jareth just shift me home?” I asked, trying to sound indifferent even as the knot in my stomach tightened for a plethora of reasons. “I mean, he got me here easily enough. What’s the big deal about just going back?”

They both ignored me.

“If the engagement’s renewed, it’ll be an influential match,” Jareth agreed, sitting down on the sofa in a creak of leather and stretching his feet out before him. “A match that will, no doubt, guarantee your entry into the Inner Circle.”

“Your obsession with the Inner Circle is unhealthy,” Rafael countered coolly.

“You didn’t come here for Raven!” Jareth suddenly accused. “You know I’m not a fool, Rafael. Why did you really come back here? What are you up to?”

Rafael merely folded his arms. “I’m under no obligation to explain why I’m here.”

I wanted to know why he’d come back myself, but he clearly was going to refuse answering that question. Instead, I interrupted again, louder this time, “So, is anyone going to answer my question?”

A mirthless, crooked smile spread across Jareth’s lips. His attention was focused entirely on Rafael. “Now that I think about it, you aren’t nearly as outraged as you should be when I mention Raven—the Queens’ own niece—as a link to the Inner Circle, your highness.” He sounded smug as he held up a hand. “Tell the truth if you can, Rafael. We both know that you didn’t just come back for Raven. There’s something else here that needs uncovering.”

But Rafael didn’t appear all that impressed with his assumptions. “I’d like it if you don’t say something you’ll regret.” His voice was deep and deceptively calm. “We must focus on the impossible task of getting Sydney back to Earth. That’s the only thing that matters right now. We must capture the Tulpa as evidence to present to the Queens and discover how it escaped the second dimension in the first place. Not to mention that we must reveal what the Glass Wall was protecting.”

The fact that Rafael would suddenly rather talk about getting me back to Earth than the Inner Circle made me wonder at the enormity of Jareth’s implication. But then the word ‘impossible’ registered, and I felt a familiar wave of panic threaten me.

And being exhausted, scared, and hungry wasn’t exactly helping.

Suddenly tired of being ignored, I raised my voice. “Is anyone going to tell me why it’s so impossible for me to get home this time?”

I guess I’d shouted louder than I thought, because they both suddenly looked at me in surprise, Jareth with a wide grin and Rafael with a mild lift of a brow.

“It’s been an extraordinarily long day, Sydney,” Rafael said with a polite nod in my direction. “Perhaps we should rest while we have the chance.”

I scowled and snapped a little, “I don’t want to rest. I want to know what’s really going on here! And quit changing the subject on me to avoid answering!”

Yes, my temper was unusually short, but I wasn’t about to admit it. Not to him.

Jareth chuckled, his dark eyes sweeping me from head to toe. “I’m starting to like you better too, Sydney. Who knew that it only took starvation and sleep deprivation to make you both more tolerable?”

Both Rafael and I sent him scathing looks.

Still glowering, I faced Rafael again, but I took a deep, calming breath before asking, “Why can’t Jareth just shift me back? Or you? I mean, the Glass Wall is gone now, right? Shouldn’t it be easier for the Fae to get to Earth now?”

“The Queens have always protected the Earth with snares that were activated long ago before the Glass Wall was built,” Rafael explained grimly. “While they don’t trap Fae returning to Avalon, they still detect Fae attempting to leave. And they would most certainly sense a human. The Queens would stop us even before we could return.”

I didn’t like that explanation. “Are there ways around these snares?” I pressed.

“Most certainly!” Jareth inserted quickly as he slouched back onto the couch and clasped his hands behind his neck. “The Inner Circle could tell us a myriad of ways as they’ve been secretly accessing Earth for quite some time now!”

“Must everything be tied to the Inner Circle in your mind?” Rafael’s eyes flashed dangerously before taking on a strange, accusatory glint. “I might point out that you seem to know quite a lot about the Inner Circle yourself. Why is that so?”

At that, Jareth raised a brow but remained silent.

“Intriguing,” Rafael murmured softly, his eyes narrowing even more. Turning to his mirror, he waved his hand in a broad, all-encompassing motion. “I’m weary of your games, Jareth. If you won’t answer then I’ll find my own answers. Let’s have a look into the mind’s eye, shall we?”

Jareth frowned, clearly a little mystified.

As Rafael focused on the mirror, I waited expectantly, heartened by Jareth’s assurance that there were ways to get around the snares. And for the moment, I was desperate enough to conveniently ignore the fact that I detested him and didn’t trust anything he said.

But then I found myself distracted from my single-minded purpose of getting home by a new set of images playing across Rafael’s wide mirror.

Jareth now appeared in the center, singing and strutting on stage before an audience packed tighter than a can of sardines. Above his head, a bright series of lines popped into view, lines woven into a complicated web of pulsing white lights, except there was a single bright blue line snaking through all the others. There were so many glowing lines that in some places I could see only blocks of pure white light twisting in complicated patterns and spreading out in all directions.

I knew they were fate lines.

I stared at them, filled with wonder that anyone could even begin to make sense of them. There were so many threads that I couldn’t follow a single one.

And then I saw it.

The single, notorious Blue Thread.

I stared at it, hovering over Jareth’s head, but I couldn’t look at it for long. I had one of those Blue Threads myself.

The scene shifted, showing Jareth clad in his outrageously shredded black leather shirt and pants, his hair teased and standing out from his head in all directions. He was alone in the middle of the desert with his arms folded tightly across his chest.

The mirror zoomed to focus just on his face, on the hauntingly sad expression in his eyes and on the single tear trailing down his cheek.

That tear gave me pause.

Jareth … crying?

Strangely and in spite of my built up animosity, I experienced an odd twinge of sympathy towards him.

Maybe there was a reason he was insufferable.

“That should be impossible outside the Hall of Mirrors,” Jareth broke in with a hoarse whisper. “No Fate Tracker can call the threads of the past where mirrors weren’t present.”

Rafael didn’t reply. He began pacing in front of his mirror like a caged lion, waving his hands at intervals.

With each flick of his fingers, the Jareth on the mirror grew younger. I watched him change from rock star to student, sitting in some sort of classroom with Rafael. Melody hovered over them pointing to complicated charts with myriads of lines. Then the scene shifted again, showing Jareth as a youth, standing in a row with other dark-haired students, each awaiting their turn to practice some type of Kung Fu.

The years unraveled fast then, showing him progressively younger, still standing in the line and waiting for his turn to demonstrate some fairy-form of martial arts. And then he appeared to be no more than a toddler, still standing at the end of a long line of very young students and watching the older ones practice.

The image went blank.

Rafael tilted his head to the side and murmured, “Curious.”

I frowned a little, wondering what he’d found curious, but before I could ask, the scene of Jareth at the rock concert appeared again, replete with the myriad of fate lines over his head.

Again, a series of images tracked backwards in time, ending just as before.

Again, the rock concert scene appeared on the mirror.

Rafael was plainly searching for something, but with the millions of threads hovering over Jareth’s head, it looked like we’d be here a long time.

My eyes were beginning to burn. Exhaustion was threatening to overwhelm me. I was going to have to get some rest before I attempted to do any kind of escaping.

I stumbled wearily to the couch and sat down, watching as Rafael waved his hand tirelessly over the repeating scenes. Until finally the image abruptly froze, and there was a young Jareth waiting in line with the other dark-haired Fae children once again.

“Odd,” Rafael stated, louder this time.

“Calling up the past will serve no purpose.” Jareth said acidly. He scowled deeply. “Even you can’t track every possibility within your lifetime. Just what are you looking for?”

Rafael clasped his hands behind his back, oblivious to Jareth’s black stare and lifted his hand yet again.