Chapter 18
Norrell
My ringing phone wakes me up in the dead of night.
Luckily it does not stir Ada, who is still asleep next to me in her bed.
She sleeps longer and deeper to fight off the fae’s spell as it steals her life.
It is no surprise she slept through the noise.
Creeping out of the room after silencing my phone, I quietly answer the call from the unfamiliar number in the hallway as I walk downstairs.
“Hello?” My voice is still groggy.
“Norrell, this is Tallan Frostweaver,” says a frayed voice on the other end of the line.
“Tallan? Why are you calling me at this hour?” He’s an elder in my clan, having held a seat on the council for many years.
“I have not slept in over a month. Night or day means nothing to me anymore. I thought if I come clean to you finally, mayhap that will change. Or at least unburden my conscience when I find myself in an early grave,” Tallan rambles.
He is a calm presence on the council. One of the few in its current form.
Whatever is going on is already concerning.
“Tell me what you want to say,” I instruct him coolly.
“When your brother Elgar asked for our help the first time, we stayed silent. Played dumb. All agreed we would not get involved. We did so again when the true picture of your mate’s suffering became clear,” he claims.
“Are you saying the council of elders is outright refusing to help me?” I try to clarify.
“Yes, that is exactly what I am saying. Harlok, your uncle, kept secrets from you. Made all of us keep secrets from you for years. Secret histories and relics that you should have been made privy to as our Huntmaster. He claimed you did not deserve that knowledge when you so reluctantly took on the role. That the next Huntmaster would be a leader who would finally deserve them. And in the meantime, we would keep this information quiet,” he explains.
A deep, thundering headache forms behind my eyes. I ignore it for now and try to focus. “Which of these secrets would help my mate, Tallan?” I ask directly, trying to keep the anger out of my voice.
“The relics. The two the witch pulled from the fae’s mind. The two that the Seer foretold,” he reveals solemnly.
“We have the relics?” I roar, not caring whether I blow out the eardrum of this addled old male.
“And you kept this from me for a month? Fire of the frost! You helped this disgusting fae, an enemy to our kind, genuinely suck the life out of my mate for an entire month longer than necessary while you wrestled with your morals? You should be ashamed, Tallan! All of you! She will die without them!”
“I do not want her to die, Norrell. We already took her from you once. I could not let the fae succeed in doing so again,” he mumbles in a small voice, sounding deeply ashamed.
“You are going to tell me right now where those relics are. And then you are going to call my brother right away and tell him exactly what you told me, followed by every other secret you kept from me. I do not care about any of them except these two relics,” I demand through gritted teeth.
“Alright. It will be done. And mayhap I will find peace again.” He exhales shakily into the phone.
“There is a cave to the far north in the Arctic Cordillera where no Whispered Folk or human would ever dare stumble.” He proceeds to tell me in great detail the path to this treacherous mountain cave where these powerful relics were stashed away centuries ago. I commit every word of it to memory.
Immediately I text my brother, who responds in a remarkably short time that Tallan has indeed called him and they are meeting imminently.
It is the middle of the night there as well, so I do not believe Elgar is taking any chance in letting dear Uncle Harlok and the council of elders block that information any longer.
Next, I call Niven. I nearly feel bad that I will likely wake him up, but I realize he would be upset if I did not in this situation. “Norrell, what happened?” Niven answers.
“I know where the relics are. My clan had them all along. An elder finally had a crisis of conscience and told me. After an entire month of Ada needlessly suffering. I am livid. Only the blue hag of winter knows how hard I will come down on every one of those lying cowards, especially my despicable uncle who kept this from me.” My voice is still sharp and angry.
I pace across the foyer as I try to control my rage.
“Good, they deserve it. Go get those relics and come back as soon as you can. I’ll arrange the travel portal to get you as close to your settlement as possible.
The local coven will assist you on the rest of your way there and back.
Be at the portal at seven sharp. That’s only a few hours from now.
Pack what you need. And then tell Ada you love her and you’ll be home again soon with everything we need to save her,” he advises.
Running back upstairs into the dark bedroom, I gently rub Ada’s shoulder to wake her. “My ember. I am sorry to wake you, but this is urgent,” I murmur softly, not wanting to startle her.
“Norrell? Is everything okay?” she croaks, not fully awake, and reaches out to hug me.
“Yes, but there is urgent news,” I reveal.
That gets her attention, and she sits up abruptly, looking alarmed. “What’s wrong?”
“I know where the relics are. I must retrieve them. But that means I will be gone for a little while. Hopefully only a couple weeks,” I assure her.
“Why that long? Where are they? Will you be safe?” she frets. She clutches her hands to her chest.
“I will be safe. It will be like going on a long hunt, something I have done plenty of times before. A full team will be with me, including my brother, who I trust wholeheartedly. But the trek to the cave where my clan hid the relics will take several days in each direction, even with our snowmobiles and mountain climbing equipment. And then I will come right back to you and make sure that fae magick never touches you again,” I vow.
“Your clan?” she asks in disbelief. Her eyes grow wide.
“My clan. And may they rot for how much harm they put us through. I am done with them forever,” I say, never surer of anything in my life except my love for Ada.
Ada looks stricken as we wait for the portal to open.
Her face is paler than usual and new worry lines etch deeper around her eyes.
“Come back to me, Norrell. I…” She pauses with a rush of breath, like she’s trying not to cry.
“I love you. So much. I don’t think I can live without you,” she confesses.
Though I have expressed my love for her many times, she has not returned it until now.
It is the first confirmation that she may still feel as strongly for me as I do for her.
It leaves me breathless. With so much on the line, it amplifies my concern that this journey will be fruitless, that I will completely fail my mate again despite the Seer’s vision.
Pulling her into me, I nuzzle her cheek so my lips are close to her ear. In a low voice, only for her, I whisper, “You will never have to. You, my ember, are my entire reason for existing. You will be safe and protected in my arms forever. I love you, Ada. I will return to you as quickly as I can.”
Her body trembles with silent sobs as we take solace in each other’s arms for these last few moments together.
“Stay safe for me. Don’t take any extra risks,” she pleads in a reedy voice edged with fear I wish I could kiss away.
My eyes fill with tears that my mate has misplaced worry that my safety is tantamount to hers.
One of her coven members quietly approaches telling us they must open the portal. I cradle her face in my hands and press my lips to hers with such passion it will stay with me the length of my journey.
Determination overrides my sadness as I step through the portal to begin my travel northward.
When I come back with the relics, free from all obligations to my clan, the rest of our lives can begin.
The long trek to my clan’s settlement is arduous, but at least I know from experience what to expect.
The witches waiting for me on the other side of the portal in Toronto accompany me to the northmost human settlement through a series of flights to increasingly small airports.
From there I make my own way on the Old Path, one that we keep marked and passable for trade purposes, to the North Clan settlement.
I kept my brother updated at every step.
He and I will have a long conversation about handing the title of Huntmaster of the True North to him.
Technically, all the hunters will have to agree.
But no one holds a candle to my brother’s drive and skill other than me.
There can be no recycled argument that he is too young for the mantle of leadership.
He is now forty years of age. Much more mature than I was when I took over at age thirty-two. There will be no pushback this time.
The path grows more defined, cutting through the harsh landscape, the closer I get to the settlement.
It could still easily be overlooked by someone unfamiliar with it.
Yeti do not require the easy footpath that a human would.
Our feet are toughened and nimble. Our bodies made for this harsh environment.
My brother Elgar, the spitting image of me except for his slightly taller stature and dark gray eyes, meets me far enough down the path that the settlement is still out of sight.
“Brother, it is good to see you. I am glad you returned so quickly. I have learned much since we last spoke. Though none of it will likely surprise you,” he says bleakly.