Beyond the Gateway (Cranksepticeye)

Thirty-three

"Will you walk with me, Jack?" Herne bowed his head to Jack as they left the Isle of Avalon behind and returned to the Tavern proper.
Jack smiled up at him as they strolled through the Tavern's garden, past a gathering of what looked like living topiaries - one of them a horse prancing around the terrace, leafy mane and tail rustling as it kicked up its heels. It reminded him of Lucky, and Jack felt a stab of anxiety. He was worried about him. And about Ethan, who had gone to deliver him to a fearsome being about whom she'd heard only unpleasant things so far. It was strange, because the man walking beside him had once loved the Darkling Queen. He'd seen it in the vision Ethan had given him.
"In the days before she was so very dark, yes," Herne muttered. "I loved her. As she did me. Sometimes love can be a terribly destructive thing, Jack. I have spent lifetimes trying to make amends for what love made me once do."
"Can you read my thoughts?" Jack asked wearily.
"No." Herne said softly . "Just your face. You glanced at the pony, frowned, glanced up at me, and your expression became thoughtful. It was fairly easy to interpret."
"Oh. Right."
"But henceforward, around your own kind at least, you will probably want to learn to control your thoughts. Or at least keep them from showing plainly in your visage. That is, if you intend to take up the legacy of your birth."
"You think it would be dangerous for me to do so."
"I think it is your blood right, and the decision is yours and yours alone," Herne said. "But be warned. There are those who might not be so eager for you to embrace that right. The Unseelie king among them."
"My father? Why?"
"Only Auberon's direct heir is able to inherit the throne after him. And the thrones of the Faerie kingdoms must remain occupied."
"So without an heir, Auberon has no worries about having to ever give up his kingship," Jack said. "But I thought that the Fae were immortal."
The Horned One held up a hand. "Yes, and no. Faerie are immortal only insofar as they do not age or sicken. They can still be killed.
Right, Jack remembered, that's what Ethan does.
His thoughts turned again to him and to what Auberon had said . . .
Herne was speaking. "That is the way of it for all of the rulers of the Fair Folk. The kings and queens are protected by the power of their thrones. Without heirs, they remain utterly inviolate, and without deadly enemies."
"So . . . I'm a threat to Auberon."
"You could be. But you could also be powerful ally, doubling the strength of the Unseelie Court." Herne shrugged. "I do not know which way King Auberon perceives you. He is a deep thinker, and I would not presume to know his mind."
"He offered to make me human."
"That, in itself, says something. But again, whether he made such an offer for his own sake, or for yours. . . I do not know." The Hunter's gaze was warm, sympathetic. "Think hard on this choice, Jack McLoughlin. As one who has lived a very long life tangled in the threads of Faerie webs, I would urge caution when dealing with their machinations. Friend and foe are sometimes indistinguishable. Or one and the same."
"Can he do it?" Jack asked. "Can my father make me human?"
"After a fashion," Herne said. "As Lord of the Unseelie Court of Faerie, he can certainly take back the power of the Unseelie throne that you by blood right hold - but only if you give it to him willingly. He cannot force it from you."
"I see."
Herne stopped him. "Were you to ever do such a thing, Jack, I would ask for something in return, if I were you. Such a gift should not be come by lightly. Even by a Faerie king."
"I'll try to remember that. Thank you."
Herne paced slowly beside him.
"You're handling all of this really very well, you know," he said, with a smile in his voice, as if he's sensed Jack's thoughts again.
"Oh, I am not," he said. "I'm in total denial and pretty sure I'm dreaming." He put his hand on Herne's arm and squeezed. "But it's kind of a nice drea-"
Suddenly Herne the Hunter grabbed him by the shoulders and flung him hard against a mirrored pillar - out of the way of a flaming pumpkin that roared out of the night. The fiery gourd exploded into an orange ball of fire as it hit the flagstones of the Tavern courtyard.
All around him, Faerie were screaming - some in panic, but most in rage. The Green was a sanctuary, and someone had just violated it.
"Where is my son?" shrieked the terrifying specter that appeared in the sky above the courtyard, dressed in a raven-wing cloak, with wild black hair and a flashing green-eyed gaze. Something clicked in Jack's brain in the midst of the sudden, intense bedlam.
That was is mother.
Mabh.
The Queen of Air and Darkness was his mother.
"To the prince!" Herne bellowed. "Protect the boy!"
All around him, the Lost Fae shimmered and shifted. With a rush of invocations, weapons of all kinds appeared, gripped tightly in graceful, fine-boned hands. Jack saw things heaving themselves out of the depths of the fountains - creatures with claws and teeth, wielding cudgels and axes; and other creatures that didn't need weapons.
The place erupted into chaos, and it was all Jack could do to get out of the way and avoid being trampled by those trying to protect him.
In the sky above Mabh's head, he saw cloaked and hooded wraiths, screeching curses and flinging lightning-lashed tempests at the Faerie warriors with devastating effect. He knew suddenly what they were.
Mabh's Storm Hags, Jack thought, terrified. They're here for me.
Something must have gone terribly wrong with Ethan and Lucky.
He ducked and ran for the safety of the arbor that led to the shore of Avalon's lake. But there were so many twisting passageways in the Tavern that he quickly became hopelessly lost. Bursting through a set of double oak doors out into the cold night air, Jack found himself suddenly standing in the car-filled parking lot of New York's Tavern on the Green, back in the mortal world.
A group of costumed revelers poured out through the doors of the tavern behind him. "Happy Halloween, sir!" one of them slurred , tipping a pointy wizards hat in his direction.
Jack watched, stunned and horrified, as something that resembled a bat-winged howler monkey leaped from the trees onto the unwilling reveler and tore the hat to shreds. Before the claws could rend flesh, Jack screamed at the people to run for their lives and ripped the clover charm from his throat with one hand. He flung out his other hand without stopping to think, willing the creature to be gone.
Brilliant light flashed in a corona all around him.
There was a pop! and the thing disappeared with an extremely surprised look on its face. Jack fell to his knees, his brightness diminished, winded by the amount of effort it had taken to do whatever it is he had just done.
In the distance, he heard sirens and screaming.
He stuffed the charm into his pocket and ran.

After falling on his face for the third time, Jack finally kicked off Tim's ridiculous shoes, heedless of cold or the sharp gravel of the path. In the distance, he heard more screaming - terrified cries from human throats. He ran up in the rise of a low hill and looked out over a panorama that could have come from a Hieronymus Bosch painting - of demons torturing the souls of the dammned in hell.
The Jade must have been overwhelmed fending off Mabh and her minions, thought Jack frantically, and so the Samhain Gate had swung wide, undefended. All manner of horrific creatures from the Otherworld poured out through rifts. Anyone unlucky enough to be caught in the park was being chased and tormented by beings that none of them could have imagined. Jack saw spiny things and fiery things and pale, bony things with too-large eyes spreading out across the park with malicious intent.
All arprund him now, he could hear sirens in the air. Jack knew that New York's finest would be no match for the swarming of Faerie monsters - the police would be nothing more than fodder against such creatures. He had to do something, and he had to do it fast. He had to find Ethan. Or, baring that, he had to find the one other person he knew who had the power to help him.
As his strength returned, the light started to flare from his skin once again. Jack concentrated, and his brightness dimmed as he pulled every ounce of power he could grasp at into himself and stretched out her awareness to try to find his father.
When his presence struck in Jack's mind, it was like the impact of a hard-flung snowball. Suddenly he knew where Auberon was - he just had to het there. Fast.
Half embarrassed to do so, Jack turned and glanced at the lacy, shining wings that floated out from either side of his spine. With an effort of sheer brute will, he made them flutter - then flutter faster. He could feel his feet lifting off the ground and felt a surge of triumph. But his concentration wavered. The wings crumpled, and Jack fell forward onto his face in a drift of fallen leaves.
Cursing, he pushed himself up and started to run.