Page 41 of Beauty

Lach stands, his massive hands clenched into fists. There’spractically steam coming out of my brother’s ears. “Leave us.”

I put a hand up, a gesture to slow down. “Don’t be so quickto judge. It’s his nature. But it’s also his nature to help his master.”

Amber eyes roll. “He ain’t me master. He’s me friend, andyes, I want to help him. I was only making a wee joke about the stinkingcorpses. Come on, man. It was funny. Like the dog today. Damn thing tried towag half a tail.”

The phooka laughs, the sound a bit maniacal, but he’s right.Not about the half-tailed dog, but he’s fast in his horse form, and phookas areknown to be hard to see unless they want to be seen.

“You know where Tuathanas is?” I ask.

Lach moves to sit beside me, a scowl on his face. “I’m surehe knows where everything is.”

The phooka scratches at his scruffy head. “I do, indeed. AndI swear on all that Danu’s given me, I’m not lying. I want Torin out as much asthe rest of you. Probably more since I don’t have anywhere else to go. There’sno kingdom waiting for me. There’s only this farm and those Fae, and Torin willkill us all if something doesn’t change. We’ve been safe here in the mountains.He hasn’t had the inclination to attack, but he will eventually and we’ll fall.So I’m offering you a deal, one time only, Your Highnesses. I shall carry youto the princess. I will be your ally. Me word is me bond. And I expect thatyou’ll treat your ally with every due care.”

The phooka’s amber eyes burn in the dim light of the barn.

Lach looks at me and slowly nods.

I take the phooka’s hand. “Allies.”

The phooka’s hand tightens and his form wavers. “Don’tforget it, Your Highness. Don’t forget what we do to those who cross us. I’mthe boogey man. I know what your fear is.” He turns those burning eyes to Lach.“And his radiates off him.”

The phooka changes, his hand releasing mine. His formshimmers and reassembles itself. I shudder and shrink back at what I seesitting in front of me.

“Ain’t this what you both fear deep down?” The phooka’svoice speaks, but it’s through my own lips.

I sit in front of myself, my smile wide and calm, but therest of me is on fire, the flames flaring out and crackling, tendrils of heatand agony pointing like accusatory fingers.

“Look at me. I’m brighter than the sun and a whole lot moredeadly. I can’t control meself. I’ll burn down everyone I love.” The phookachanges, taking on Lach’s likeness, but this is a different Lach than thebrother I know. This Lach is sunken, all the light in his face gone as thoughsomeone snuffed his candle out and what is left behind is a ruined, uselesswick. Death hangs on this Lach, a cloak he donned and wrapped around his soul.Maggots crawl on his arms, and a black-eyed rat pokes its head from under hiscollar. “Lord of the Dead. Who could love you? Who wants a cold embrace whenthey could have a hot one? Is there an inch of you that truly lives, DeathLord?”

And then the phooka is a slight, wild-haired man again, hiseyes narrow. “Yes, I know what scares you both. Don’t you forget it when thegoing gets tough and someone like me is easy to leave behind. Know that you cannever really leave me. I would be with you for always and always, a nightmareunder your bed.”

The phooka smiles as though we’re having a pleasantconversation. He tips his head. “Meet me in an hour out back, and be ready tofly.”

The phooka disappears, and we hear the rush of air and thena whinny signaling he is again a horse. There’s the sound of hooves on thefloor and then all is silent.

Lach gets up and stares down at the floor of the barn. “I’mthinking once that fucker’s dead, he’s mine. How would you like that, phooka?How would you like dangling on my strings, dancing when I tell you to dance?”

I sigh. I’m still shaken, but the truth is it’s no surprise.“Leave him be. He didn’t tell us anything we didn’t already know. You’re afraidof what I’ll do, and I’m scared of losing you to the darkness.”

Lach scrubs a hand through his hair as he paces. “Why do youalways find a way to be more reasonable than me? Though I still think I havethe better idea. It can be rough on the road. Horses make good jerky. He’ll havea damn hard time sneaking under my bed when the bastard’s in my belly.”

There’s a long whinny, but I swear that horse is laughing.

Lach sits down on the cot, his anger seeming to dissipate.“He has a point.”

“His kind always does.” It’s the nature of the phooka andother tricksters like him. They know how to go for the throat.

“Why would she ever want me? I make dead things crawl. I’mutterly useless unless you want to pet your dead dog one last time.” Lachsighs. “Maybe that’s why our connection isn’t as strong. Do you think she canfeel how cold I am?”

I consider planting a fist in the phooka’s muzzle, but wereally do need him. “You aren’t cold.” I start to say something else, but thenI feel it. Panic. Disorientation. Pain in my head like someone is taking ahammer to it.

Bronwyn is awake.

“I can feel her,” Lach whispers, his hand going to the backof his head. “I’m going to kill those guards. Can you talk to her?”

“Only when we’re sleeping, and you know how it is then.” Myheart nearly stops in my chest. Bronwyn is struggling. I can feel her panic andher intent. She’s going to try to escape. In that one moment, she doesn’t carethat she’ll likely be killed. She simply wants it to be over.

Lach takes a deep breath. “We have to focus. We have to gether to calm down.”