The Dark Thorn Read Free Page A

his knighted tenure as one of the Yn Saith, he had seen the most innocent-seeming fey threaten lives and destroy property.
    Annwn and its inhabitants could never be taken lightly.
    “The failure of last night may bear fruit,” Merle said. “You must pay special care to your service in the coming months. The fairies have been sent through for a specific reason—of that you can be sure—and while they are mostly impotent as you say, do not forget the persuasive magic they carry.”
    “It would take an idiot to fall prey to the whims of a fairy.”
    “Or the cu sith that slipped by you mere months ago.”
    Anger at mention of his failure rushed through Richard.
    “Just be aware,” Merle said, raising placating hands. “‘Tis all I ask.”
    “Who could plan this?” Richard asked, cooling. “The Morrigan? Cernunnos?”
    “Or quite possibly Philip.”
    Richard snorted. “Why would Plantagenet care? His crusade is not finished.”
    “The Morrigan has far more pressing quandaries to deal with than this world, namely Philip,” Merle declared. He removed the ash from his pipe and began to tamp fresh leaves anew. “Cernunnos has never been interested in the war, choosing to keep the Unseelie Court in their shadows. Could be a rogue witch. Or perhaps a freed demon? Doubtful, although I suppose I should not be so quick to dismiss such notions. Whatever the case, it must be an entity with resources unimaginable to so brazenly enter this world with a plot—no matter how minor—and that fits Philip above all others.”
    “He should have died long ago.”
    “Yes, he should have,” Merle agreed as he relit his pipe. “One more reason to be cautious. There will come a time when what he has acquired in Annwn will no longer serve. He will want more. It is in the nature of such men.”
    “Plantagenet would never use the fey.”
    “Would he not to gain an advantage?”
    Richard thought it over. He had seen such men do just that. People in every aspect of life—whether in government, business, religion, or even on the streets—became corrupted upon gaining power and used whoever they could to retain it. Richard had spent years ignoring the demands of such men in the Church and in Seattle’s homeless area known as the Bricks—and doubted it would ever change.
    Philip Plantagenet could not be ignored.
    “Have the other portals seen activity?” Richard asked.
    “I do not know.”
    “That is not like you, Merle,” the knight said, darkening.
    The old man shrugged. “Regardless, it is what it is. The other knights have not reported activity to you, have they?”
    “No. They haven’t.”
    “Well then,” Merle said pointedly.
    “Dammit! Don’t mince words, Merle,” Richard growled. “You always know more than you share.”
    “We have had this discussion before,” the store owner said flatly.
    “And never finished it!”
    “The past is for the dead,” Merle said. “The present is for the living. That’s you.”
    “Don’t spin your philosophies to mollify me, old man,” Richard spat back. “I am beyond your games, now that I know of them.”
    “The past can consume a soul, Richard. Do not let your own destroy you.”
    Richard wanted to explain that it already had.
    “I know differently,” Merle continued, as if he had heard the knight’s thought. “You would not be so eager to attend to the portal, not so willing to put yourself in harm’s way every day for years, if there were not a worthwhile spark still within your soul.”
    Richard shifted uncomfortably, weariness from his wound helping to rein old lingering anger. He suddenly wished he were outside on his streets. It was hard coming into Old World Tales and being confronted with painful memories; it was harder to hear that Merle still believed in him. The certainty in the other’s ancient blue eyes drove a fresh spike through his heart, easily penetrating walls he had purposefully put in place. Richard took a deep breath. Despite the qualms