Storm Warrior

to drag the ellyll away. “There’s no point in calling a puppet names.”

Ranyon stopped struggling in Rhys’s grasp. “Aye, I see what ya mean,” he said, playing along. “I should have realized it’s just a foolish toy for the fae to play with.”

The big canine’s lips curled back to expose its shining teeth, and its eyes glowed red.

“Only a servant,” said Rhys, sliding one hand into his pocket. “Good for bowing and scraping and taking orders. More to be pitied than feared.”

The monstrous black dog leapt for his throat. Rhys’s reflexes were a scant half second faster only because he’d been ready. He dove out of the way—but not before slapping a small white cotton pouch into the creature’s gaping maw, hoping it would go straight down the black gullet. The beast spun to savage him where he’d rolled, when it stopped suddenly. It backed up a step, then another. Gnashing its jaws, white foam began to bubble up from its throat and it began clawing at its muzzle and belly. Rhys snatched up Ranyon and dashed behind a row of portable toilets just as a soundless explosion sent shock waves through the air.

When they peered around to look, the grim was gone save for a blackened spot on the dusty ground. Rhys tensed, waiting for the humans to come running.

Nothing happened. A bored-looking shopkeeper walked around the back to empty a bucket of soapy water, looked at the charred spot, and yelled at someone inside the booth, “Those boys have been setting fires again.” When he left, Ranyon looked up at Rhys.

“What cymysgiad was that ya fed the murderin’ beast?”

“No potion at all,” said Rhys. He sat Ranyon on his shoulders and jogged back toward the bleachers. “It was just salt from the sea. Starr gave a bag to each of us this morning. For protection, she said, because it was pure.”

“I’ll wager she meant to keep ya from getting yer head bashed in, not defendin’ ya against a grim.”

“Aye, well, it worked.” Rhys didn’t mention that he hadn’t been certain that it would. All he’d had to go on was the effects of salt on the bwgan’s carcass. “Tell me about Leo.”

The ellyll made a choking sound. “It’s not his time, yet he’s not long fer this world. ’Twas a spell the grim delivered upon him! ’Tis draining Leo’s life away by degrees.”

Rhys’s worst fears were confirmed. Just as he had suspected, his friend was simply one more pawn in the Fair Ones’ deadly games. A deep burning anger settled in his gut. The Tylwyth Teg had to be stopped, but damned if he could think of how to do it. And if he failed, Leo was not going to be the only victim. The Fair Ones would never stop trying to take over this land, and more humans would fall prey. Gods alive, had he been the one to open the floodgates? Had the Tylwyth Teg been trying to establish themselves here all along, or had he inadvertently shown them the way?

“I’ve not got enough magic to counter the spell,” sniffled Ranyon. “I have no charm that can ease what’s happening to him, and I know no enchantment strong enough.”

“Will a bwgan stone help?”

“Aye, ’twould help a great deal, but where ya gonna get something like that in this world?”

He smiled without humor. “The Fair Ones gifted me with one.”

Jay intercepted Rhys at the bleachers. “Hey, where the hell did you go, man? Leo’s been taken to the hospital, and Morgan’s pissed at you for taking off. Brandan’s there with her—he says Leo’s stable for the moment, but they don’t know what’s wrong with him.”

“I know what’s wrong with him,” answered Rhys. He stopped at the first bench and motioned at Jay to take a seat. “And I’m needing to set it right.”

“What the—I’m not sitting down at a time like this!”

Rhys ignored him and looked at his left foot. “Ranyon, this man is worthy of trust. He knows what I am and what I’ve been. We need his help in order to help Leo.”

“Aye, well for Leo’s sake then.” The ellyll revealed himself.

Jay’s face lost all color and he sat down. Hard.

Ranyon chuckled and tipped his baseball cap. “Seeing as we’re soon to be in a bit of a war together, Jay, ya best be knowing who’s on yer side. Pleased to make your acquaintance I am.”

It took a couple of tries, but finally Jay stammered out, “Same here.” He shook his head hard, then seemed to recover himself and stuck out a hand to the strange little creature.

Ranyon shook it enthusiastically with both of his.

“Jay, we must get to the farm quickly,” said Rhys. “I’ve something there that could help Leo.”

“I’m your man,” he said and gamely got to his feet. “The clinic truck’s still here, and I have keys for it.” He led the way, only slightly unsteady for the shock he’d just received. The field events were over for the day, with most of the crowd gathered at the drinking tents. The way to the parking lot for emergency vehicles, the veterinary truck included, was thankfully unimpeded.

Rhys looked down at Ranyon. “There’s iron all about the farm, and you don’t have your charm from Leo’s car—perhaps you should stay here.”

The ellyll drew a small acorn from his hair. The nut was carefully wound with fine copper wire and sported a small spotted feather and a miniature copper bell. “Nay, I’ve made up another one to keep in my pocket. I’m not needing such a powerful charm now.”

“But when Leo first brought you to the farm, you couldn’t even cross the gateway.”

“Aye, it wouldn’t shield me from your damnable nails and horseshoes before, because of yer intent.”

“That makes perfect sense. Intention always plays a huge role in magic,” Jay said over his shoulder, and both Rhys and Ranyon looked at him in surprise. “What? I’m a practicing pagan. Besides, I read.”

“The boy’s a sharp one,” chuckled Ranyon. “And he’d be right.”

“You’re my friend. I have no desire to keep you from the farm,” said Rhys.

“Aye, I’m yer friend now. Ya hadn’t met me when you nailed up them horseshoes and determined ya were going to keep all fae from the farm. It’s yer friendship, plus the spells I’ve put into this new charm, that should keep me safe from yer bloody iron.”

“Should?” asked Jay, as he unlocked the truck. “Then you haven’t tested it yet?”

The ellyll shrugged. “Fer Leo, I’d test walkin’ on coals.”

The men nodded in agreement. They all would.

NINETEEN

Leo was asleep, his condition unchanged. His children had been called, and they were flying in from the coast. Brandan and Mike and the others had gone back to the fair to take care of their horses and load them up. Only Starr remained, talking quietly on her cell by the vending machines in the waiting room. Finally she pocketed the phone and came over to where Morgan was leafing aimlessly through the last of a stack of Classic & Custom Cars and Quilters Monthly magazines.

“Jay says to tell you he has the clinic truck and he and Rhys are on their way here. I’m going to wait for them, but you can take my van if you want to go home.”

“Don’t you still have to take down the fair booth? I could help you,” said Morgan.

Starr shook her head. “Thanks, but Vanessa has already taken care of it.”

“Well, Jay’s on call tonight so I guess he might as well keep the truck. And truthfully, I’d just as soon not be here when Rhys shows up.”

“I kinda thought so. It looks like you two are going through a rough patch.”

“You could say that, I guess.” Actually a rough patch was something Morgan would use to describe a bump in the road of a long-established couple. She and Rhys barely qualified as a couple at all, despite their feelings. They hardly knew each other, or more accurately, she didn’t know him, and that was the crux of the whole problem. Damn it, her eyes were starting