Page 2 of Triumph at Pemberley

“Where are we going?” he asked, baffled. He had never ridden Elizabeth’s dragon, or any beside his own Coquelicot, for that matter.

“No time!” Cerridwen snapped.

Resigned, Darcy scrambled up on her back. An invisible harness snapped around him, and Cerridwen sprang into the air, sending the flower wreath flying. Beneath him, the tenants were staring up and pointing. Somehow Darcy managed a hopefully reassuring wave to them.

The dragon set a brisk pace. Darcy tightened his thighs around her as he tried to adjust to her narrow form. His dragon Coquelicot was nearly twice Cerridwen’s size, and this felt dangerously precarious in comparison. Especially when she banked abruptly and descended.

They had gone barely any distance at all, no more than two miles, and she appeared to be headed for the Pemberley gatehouse.

Darcy’s breath caught in his throat. He could see nothing happening below, which meant it must be another fae attack. There could be an entire army of invisible fae right in front of him, and he would be none the wiser.

As soon as Cerridwen touched down and released his harness, Darcy slid to the ground and ran towards the gatehouse. And the sound of steel clashing against metal.

There it was – an impossible swordfight, just inside the gates. Or rather, half of one, since he could only see his cousin Jasper, his arm movements half-blurred. Ever since Darcy’s changeling sister Georgiana had used her fae powers to heal him, Jasper’s fighting speed had become remarkable. And Jasper could see the fae now, a great advantage.

Darcy gathered energy from the air and sent to Cerridwen. Is Coquelicot on her way?

As if I could stop her when you might need protection! Cerridwen retorted.

How many fae are here? He hated not knowing what enemy he faced

Just the one High Fae, and a few of your sister’s lesser fae. She sounded annoyed. Stupid fox. This is not urgent. He said you were needed instantly.

Jasper’s fox familiar had told Cerridwen to bring him? It seemed serious enough to Darcy.

The last time a single High Fae had broken through, it had taken three dragons to expel him. How had this one forced his way past the formidable Pemberley wards which should have blocked his entrance?

For the moment, Jasper seemed to be holding his own. He looked absolutely delighted to be fighting a challenging foe, which meant nothing. It had been the same the last time, just before he had taken a mortal blow. He would be dead now, if not for Georgiana.

It could happen again, and likely would.

Darcy sank his Talent into the earth at his feet, seeking strength from his bonded estate. Through the gravel of the lane, into the soil, past the tree roots and all the life burgeoning under the surface. And Pemberley rose to meet him, pouring in its magical power. Preparing him to use his mage skills against the invader when Jasper inevitably fell.

Where was Coquelicot? They would need both dragons to carry the intruder past the gates.

Thompson, the old gatekeeper, hurried to Darcy’s side, holding a pistol. “It’s loaded and cocked, sir, but I’m afraid of hitting Mr. Jasper by mistake. Do you want it?”

Darcy nodded and took it. Not that he would have any better chance than Thompson when shooting an invisible opponent, but merely having a weapon made him feel better. He hated leaving the fighting to Jasper, but his cousin had a far better chance of victory than he did.

Perhaps he could help, though. There were no guns in Faerie, so the sound alone should confuse a fae. He pointed the pistol in the air and pulled the trigger. The sudden deafening clap resounded off the lime trees lining the lane. Acrid smoke filled the air.

A moment later Jasper lunged forward. “Hah! Got you!” he cried. His sword pointed down towards the ground, as if pinning his opponent there.

“Defeated by a mortal,” chimed a disdainful fae voice. “I will never live down the shame.”

Cerridwen said aloud, “Rather more than a mortal.” Stepping forward, she told the invisible fae, “Look at him. Truly look.”

Jasper’s sword did not move. “Drop your weapons and show yourself.” He waved his free hand, keeping his eyes fixed on his opponent. “The rest of you, bind his feet and hands.”

Between one blink and the next, an elegantly clad High Fae on the ground popped into view. To the side, a half dozen lesser fae swarmed forward with bits of twine and belts. Darcy recognized Mistletoe, who had once saved him from poisoning.

Darcy handed the gun back to Thompson. “Can you reload this? And fetch some rope, please?”

The gatekeeper hurried back to the gatehouse.

The High Fae studied Jasper closely, seemingly untroubled by the sword piercing him below his collarbone. His tip-tilted eyes narrowed. “No,” he breathed. “It cannot be.”

Cerridwen called, “Mistletoe, where is your lady?”