Nick scowled at the absolute last thing he’d ever expected Aeron to say. “How do you know about that?”
“You are the Malachai. Had you drained him and returned him here to this hell to suffer more for that which he didn’t do, he’d have immediately come home to me. And that he didn’t.”
Okay, take that earlier statement back. That was the absolute last thing Nick ever expected Aeron to say.
His eyes widened in complete and utter shock. “Oh.”
Aeron laughed at his gaping expression. “We are brothers and friends, Malachai. Nothing more.”
“Ah… Gotcha. Whatever you say.”
Looking around at the dark forest, Aeron sighed warily. “Here, family and friend are hard to come by. When you are lucky enough to find one, you hold on with both hands and treasure him or her with everything you are. I hope you will appreciate my brother and give him the regard he’s due.”
“I’m trying. But he doesn’t always make it easy.”
Aeron laughed. “None of us do, especially when you’ve been so bloody wounded by everyone around you. Just remember, you owe him your life. Had you not done right by him, I would have left you to them what wanted you today, and let them have their wicked ways with you.” He winked at Nick. “No matter what anyone else tells you about Xevikan, he’s a good man. A loyal friend. Better than any I know.”
“That’s what I sense, too.”
Aeron inclined his head to him. “Listen to your heart, Malachai. It will never fail you. Other senses lie. Especially the tongues of others. But it never does.” He turned into a small bluish-white light that hovered at eye level. “Now, follow me and I’ll help you.”
Livia curled her lip at Aeron’s small, ghostly light form. “He looks like a little fairy.”
Aeron snorted. “I am a little fairy in this form, woman. It’s what a púca is. If you’re trying to insult me masculinity, you’ll have to try a lot harder. I was a Celtic warrior and war god who fought, wrestled, played, and went to war naked with other men, including me brothers and uncles. I’m quite comfortable in me skin and with me life choices, whatever they’ve been. Excepting the stupidity what led me here. It’ll take a lot more than some waspish wisp of a fey shrew calling me names to hurt me feelings, and make me doubt meself.”
Nick laughed. “You remind me a lot of a Dark-Hunter I know named Talon of the Morrigantes. Must be a Dark Age Celt thing.”
Aeron didn’t comment on that.
“This is not the way to the Nemed!” Lerabeth warned as she flew low, next to Nick’s shoulder. “Where are you taking us, púca?”
“The shortest route through the cursed woods.”
She cawed loudly before she spoke again. “It’s a trap, Malachai. You cannot trust him! Púcas are all about deception and lies. Their jobs are to take unwary travelers into the woods and strand them there. It’s what they do.”
Aeron’s light began to dim.
“I’m not doubting you, Aeron.” Nick narrowed his gaze at both women. “I have faith in people to do the right thing. It’s what my mother taught me. Until I have a reason to, given to me by Aeron himself, I refuse to listen to the evil spewed against him by others. I will trust his actions and my gut instincts, not the words of others who don’t know the truth of what lies in his heart.”
Aeron hesitated. “You are not a typical Malachai.”
“So everyone keeps telling me. Though I’m not sure if it’s a compliment or insult the way they say it.”
Aeron laughed lightly as he led them through the dense forest.
As they walked onward, Nick considered his earlier fight with the stick and stone people, and the Hail Mary play he hadn’t had time to implement. Now that he had breathing room, perhaps it was time to do something he should have done a while ago.
He pulled out his grimoire that was filled with pages where he could consult the spirit that, like Aeron, had been trapped by another’s trickery.
Caleb and Kody had told him that there was no way to free Nashira from the book, but he’d been thinking about that a lot lately, and it seemed to him that if a Malachai had trapped the yōkai, a Malachai should be able to free her.
Just like Nick had done with Xev and Livia. Surely the book was just another type of dimensional prison like this one.
Right?
That made sense to him. If there was a way in, there had to be a way out. Yin to yang. That seemed to be the one definite rule of the universe.
But maybe they were right and he was wrong. There was still so much about being a Malachai he didn’t understand. So much about all this that he was absolutely clueless on. Most of the time, he felt like an infant trying to learn to walk.
Unlike the others who’d come before him, he hadn’t been raised by a demon mother or demon surrogate who’d instructed him from birth on his true nature. His burgeoning powers had been bound and hidden. Restricted.