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Feversong

Page 30

by Karen Marie Moning


  Barrons inclined his head, and his eyes said to me, I am.

  And just like that the tension between us was shelved for later. Assuming we had a later.

  I felt a brisk breeze and suddenly Jada was there, standing in front of me.

  “What’s up, Mac?” she said, eyes bright.

  And faintly red-rimmed. She’d been crying recently, maybe no one but me would notice but I know Dani. Her face was pure alabaster tension, freckles on snow. I pounced on her quickly, before she could get away from me, enveloping her in one of my daddy’s bear hugs, holding tight. She felt so slender and slight in my arms, so…fragile somehow. If anyone needed a hug, it was Dani. Whether she wanted it or not. Who knew how much time we had? I wasn’t wasting any of it. When she tried to break free, I said fiercely in her ear, “I love you, Dani, and I am going to hug you every now and then. Get used to it.”

  I let her go, and she backpedaled instantly, but much of the tension in her face was gone and there was a flush of color rising in her cheeks. That was a start. Later I was going to make her talk to me, tell me if she’d been crying about Dancer or Shazam and exactly what was going on inside that brilliantly, defiantly curling-in-the-rain head of hers. So much had happened so quickly that it was difficult to remember it had only been two days since her meltdown at the abbey.

  For a split second I felt almost as if I was hovering, out of my body, above us, looking down.

  Me, Barrons, Ryodan, Dani.

  And I had the oddest feeling of…rightness in the universe while looking down at us. I’d had lunch with my family. Now I was solving world problems with my other family. I glanced at Ryodan, who was observing me with a faint smile. When he nodded minutely, I realized that while Barrons could happily go off and be solitary for the rest of his existence, Ryodan wanted family. What Barrons said to him that night I’d been spying on them was true: Kas doesn’t speak. X is half mad on a good day, bugfuck crazy on a bad one. You’re tired of it. You want your family back. You want a full house, like the old days.

  I nodded back. We would keep it intact. Protect it. Always have each other’s backs. Whatever it took.

  “What the bloody hell happened to this hole?” Jada demanded, staring up at the sphere. “It wasn’t this big yesterday!” When Ryodan told her about the mass suicide, she said, “Once the ergosphere appeared, the gravitational pull increased, didn’t it?”

  Ryodan nodded grimly. “That’s why we haven’t tried to tarp it. It’s strong enough that it may suck the tarp in.”

  “Ergosphere?” I prodded.

  “The outer, spinning rim is called the ergosphere,” Jada said. “Imagine having a sheet spread flat while you use a rotating drill on it. It’ll catch up the fabric as it spins, twisting it in. Whatever matter approaches the ergosphere will get caught and be subject to what astronomers call spaghettification, pulled thin as spaghetti before being sucked in. As the sphere increases in mass and density, the pull will grow even stronger, distorting space around it.”

  “Christian is meeting us here to see if he can use his druid skills to remove earth from beneath it,” Ryodan said, “but this fucking rain has got to stop.”

  To Jada, I said, “Summon Cruce.”

  “Why?”

  “He’s Fae and can stop the rain. That’s why I asked you to meet me here.”

  “Cruce,” Jada said instantly.

  He appeared, scowling as usual. And vanished again. So did Jada.

  They wasted a good three or four minutes yanking each other from place to place until Cruce finally remained long enough to pierce me with a stare and demand, “Does this mean you have accepted my offer?”

  “Stop the rain, Cruce.”

  “Fuck you, MacKayla. Oh, wait, I have already done that. Repeatedly.”

  Barrons’s dark head whipped instantly to mine, teeth bared in a snarl, fangs sliding down.

  Ah, shit, shit, shit. I’d hidden that one from him. I’d only discovered it myself a month and a half ago, my time, when the king whisked me and Cruce off to another world for a private conversation and I’d seen “V’lane’s” true form for the first time.

  I’d never told Barrons that I learned who my fourth rapist had been, the one who’d given me the elixir. He’d once suggested it might have been Darroc. I don’t fully understand why I didn’t tell him when I found out. Partly because I hate talking about it and partly because Cruce had been iced by the king immediately after I found out. There’d been little point that I could see. Knowing Barrons, he might have broken Cruce out just to kill him, and I’d been hungry for a time of peace.

  Not that I’d actually ended up getting it.

  The way Cruce had just worded it hadn’t defined the occasion. Barrons might have been carved of stone, given how still he’d gone. He was no doubt standing there wondering if one of those times I’d slipped off to the beach with V’lane and come back tan, we’d been having sex all day.

  “Get Cruce out of here,” I murmured to Jada.

  Barrons exploded the instant I said it, and I realized my mistake. Merely by saying those words I’d confirmed that it had indeed happened. If it hadn’t, I’d never have tried to get Cruce out of there; it made me look both guilty and protective of him. Barrons had only gone so still because he’d turned one thousand percent of his focus on me, waiting for the slightest, subtlest sign of confirmation. It spoke volumes about how much I’d changed and how well I could guard my secrets that I’d had to actually say something for him to read me.

  He slammed Cruce up against one of the tumbled walls of Chester’s with such force that bricks went flying and mortar showered down around them, his hand closing on his throat. I blinked. Barrons had somehow gotten…larger, without his skin darkening into the first stages of transformation to the beast.

  Cruce’s dark, tattooed arm was out, his hand on Barrons’s throat. They were dark, mighty, giant Goliaths, locked together.

  “You will never save your world if you kill me now,” Cruce said coolly. “She will die. You will die. The human race will die. Release me. Or all of you die.”

  I glided across the wet pavement, placed my hand lightly on Barrons’s arm and said, “Please, Jericho. Don’t kill him. We need him. He raped me that day in the street. He was the fourth. Not Darroc. Cruce is the one who gave me the elixir. The elixir that saved me from your son,” I said pointedly. Funny how things worked out.

  Barrons’s hold tightened further. “Give me one good reason not to kill him. Ms. Lane,” he growled roughly around thick, long black fangs.

  “Because I asked you not to, Barrons. That’s good enough. You killed the other princes, and I was grateful. I wasn’t ready then. I was still afraid of what I’d become. But this last prince is mine to kill or not to kill. And I say no. At the moment. And although Cruce is incapable of understanding that word, I know you know that a no from me means no. And you will honor it,” I said in a voice that brooked no resistance. It was one of the defining differences between the two proud, dark, violent males. And if he didn’t honor it, he wasn’t the man I believed he was.

  Both of them turned to look at me.

  I was startled to realize both were regarding me with frank hunger. Not merely lust but…desire for me, the person. Cruce wasn’t lying. A powerful alpha in his own right, he was drawn to my power, strength, resilience, and passion. Struck by the similarities between them, I realized the Unseelie King had been right when he’d said things could have played out differently: Not the only possible, the king had told me. Perhaps Barrons becomes Cruce…or me. Mere choices defined who and what each of us had become. Cruce wanted me just as much as Barrons did.

  That knowledge was a useful tool.

  Barrons released his grip on Cruce’s throat and stepped away.

  I looked up at the dark prince and said quietly, “Would you please stop the rain?”

  It ceased instantly.

  “I’d appreciate it if you would make sure it remains sunny until we’ve either solved
our problem or died.”

  Sunshine broke through leaden clouds. A breeze high above us began whisking the dense thunderheads away.

  “For you, MacKayla. Do you see how simple it can be between us?” Cruce murmured softly. “You have only to accord me respect and consideration. Ask and I will make it yours, if it lies in my power to do so. I would move universes for you, if you would only see me as clearly as you see him.”

  A deep, atavistic rattle began in Barrons’s chest, and I knew Cruce had just signed his death warrant again.

  I whirled and locked gazes with him, shucked my pride, doffed my prickly alpha stubbornness and said, You are my world, Jericho Barrons. Not him. Never him.

  The rattle died and his dark eyes gleamed. He inclined his head.

  I glanced back at Cruce. “Can you use your Fae power to remove some of the dirt from beneath the hole?”

  He narrowed his eyes, studying it a long moment. His gaze flickered strangely and, were he human, I’d have called the expression consternation followed by annoyance, perhaps even unease. “No,” he said, sounding faintly surprised. “Something is causing interference. The effect of the sphere extends well beyond the rim, and that…disturbance is neutralizing my endeavors.” He frowned. “This is not something I have encountered before.”

  “How do I use the queen’s power?”

  “I told you my terms.”

  “Tell me how to restore your wings and I’ll do it.” And in the process, maybe I could figure out how to use it without requiring further instruction.

  He smirked. “Nice try, MacKayla. But you must sign the Compact in blood before I am willing to teach you anything.”

  “What Compact?” everyone demanded simultaneously.

  “Cruce said he would teach me how to use my power and help us save the world if I restored his wings.”

  Jada said flatly, “No loss there. Do it.” Ryodan and even the still-seething Barrons concurred.

  “Then once the world is safe, I have to transfer the True Magic to him,” I finished.

  All three of them exploded at once, telling me why there was no way in hell I was ever doing it, and I just looked around at all of them and waited for them to die down, which they eventually did.

  “Be reasonable. It’s not out of the question,” I said. “He’s willing to agree to lengthy stipulations in the Compact, including that he will never harm our world, and will take the Fae far away, forever forbidding future contact. I think you’ll find him amenable to virtually anything. All he’s ever wanted is to lead his race.” I frowned. I was standing up for Cruce now. But it was true. It was all he’d ever wanted. Things were so different in my head now, where logic ruled hand in hand with compassion for the race I’d been born to, with no other sentience messing around with my brain. Yes, he’d raped me. I’d survived, and the nearly incoherent anger I’d felt for so long was simply gone. What remained was a chaotic world with complex politics and few with power enough to lead the various factions. My experience with the Sinsar Dubh had forever changed me. I’d encountered true evil. Up close and personal. I knew what it was. Cruce was not evil. As a Fae, he was a fine one. Exemplary even. A Fae that sometimes did very bad things to humans.

  Barrons said softly, “Is this what you want, Mac?”

  I tipped my face up to the sunshine, savoring the warmth on my wet skin for a few moments before meeting his gaze. “A caste of Seelie came to me this morning with their problems. If I keep the True Magic, I am their ruler. I would be required to hear their petitions, deal with their politics, protect them, guide them.” I added with my eyes, It would be time-consuming. And if I were to truly rule and truly care, it would, in time, take me over. I don’t want that future. When this is over, I want to…I trailed off.

  What?

  Play in the sun. Love people. Run with your beast. Explore worlds. Live.

  Cruce was motionless, watching me intensely. Were he human, he’d be holding his breath. Oh, yes, he hungered to lead his people. And despite the things he’d done to me, I couldn’t say he wouldn’t be a fine leader for them. No doubt, as fine or better than me. “If I can’t figure out how to use this power,” I said aloud, “it won’t matter if we re-create the song. I won’t be able to sing it. Or wield it. Or whatever I’m supposed to do with it.”

  “He doesn’t have you over a barrel, Mac,” Ryodan pointed out. “If we die, he does, too. That’s powerful enough motivation for him to cave before it’s too late. He’s Fae. He’ll never willingly embrace death. Not so long as there’s the slightest chance of his survival.”

  Ryodan was right. We could hold out. But for what purpose, what gain? “I’m okay with it, provided the Compact is clearly detailed.” And maybe, once I’d figured out how to restore Cruce’s wings, I could heal a human heart for Dani before I gave such a stunning amount of power away.

  Barrons inclined his head. “If this is what you want.”

  I took a final, brief moment to reflect, to be absolutely certain, no regrets. The power inside me was brilliant, generous, warm. It could do so many amazing things for so many people. With it, I might be able to shape the icy immortals into a kinder bunch of beings.

  But I didn’t want to take on that challenge. I knew who and what I’d become. I was a woman that couldn’t do anything halfway. In time, the weight and responsibility of the Faery crown would take over my mind and heart and change me in ways I didn’t want to be changed. I said, “Let’s go get my dad and draw up a Compact.”

  “What guarantee do we have that Cruce will honor it?” Jada demanded.

  “He claims we’re both irrevocably bound by it, and once I access the True Magic, I’ll have confirmation of that. It’s a win-win. If he’s telling me the truth—great. If he’s lying, that means neither of us are bound and, with full access to the queen’s power, I’ll be far more powerful than he is. In which case,” I turned to Cruce and said with a cool smile, “I will terminate your existence instantly, without a second thought.”

  He inclined his head, “Fair enough. And once you realize I am not lying, and you have completed the transfer of the True Magic to me, I will still accept you as my consort, MacKayla. You, alone, I have given far more truths than lies. You alone speak to the finest of all that I am.”

  Deep in his chest, Barrons began to rattle again.

  MAC

  I left Barrons, Ryodan, and Cruce drawing up the Compact with my daddy, after having established the concessions I felt mandatory. Contracts aren’t my strong suit. Fortunately, they are Ryodan’s. As soon as it was completed, Barrons would text me and we’d meet at the bookstore, where Cruce would teach me how to use the queen’s power and I would restore his wings.

  My sister, independent woman that she was, had left the house shortly after I had, heading to Trinity College to inspect the music box I’d told her about. I was on my way there to meet up with her, anxious to know if she could hear the same song coming from it that I did.

  Jada had remained at Chester’s with Christian, to assist in his efforts, employing the same druid arts he’d used to remove the soil from my sister’s grave to eradicate the earth from beneath the black holes. If he was successful—he had concerns about not being able to keep it from being sucked straight up into the hole once he began breaking it apart—he would sift to Scotland and bring back all the Keltar, dispatching them to the largest spheres to get to work.

  Still, we were only buying time. According to Jada, now that the ergospheres were manifesting, the holes would have an increasingly destabilizing effect on the environment and grow even faster.

  Although I’d told Cruce that my race could be moved to another world and survive, I felt an undeniable (and rather confusing to a sidhe-seer) obligation to save the Tuatha De Danann from extinction. I wondered why they would cease to exist if the Earth did, then recalled the queen saying it was because she’d bound the seat of their power to our planet.

  A lightbulb went off in my head and I drew up short in the middle
of the street, stunned.

  If the power was in our planet, then it seemed logical it was this planet I had to tap into in order to make the True Magic work. Was that the missing ingredient?

  I closed my eyes, sought the True Magic, and envisioned it shooting tendrils from my feet into the soil, extending taproots, feathering out and expanding.

  Oh, God, I could feel the world! I was part of it and it was warm and breathing, bubbling and shifting. Alive!

  And so very sick.

  Tears stung the backs of my eyes. Earth was dying. This was what the queen had always been able to feel—the fabric of everything, oceans and beaches, mountains and deserts, where it met in harmony, where it was torn and wounded.

  It was overwhelming, and tears rolled down my cheeks from the sheer beauty and sorrow of it.

  Her assessment had been accurate. We were nearly out of time. The spheres were more than mere holes in the fabric of our world. They were a cancerous presence, changing matter even in areas they didn’t touch, corroding, eroding the very essence of the weft and weave of reality with their terrible song.

  I was right. The holes emanated a Song of Unmaking, the same hellish music I’d heard during my brief stay at Chester’s, trickling up through the ventilation shafts from the black hole deep below, invading my mind even as I’d slept.

  Chills suffused me and for a moment I felt the terrible song touch me, threatening, as Alina had said, to tear me apart at the seams. I thrust it away, willed a barrier between us. My newfound ability to feel this world was dangerous. I was connected to all, even the poisoned parts. I had to protect myself.

  I pictured the abbey, the fountain on the front lawn.

  When I opened my eyes, I was there, the wind carrying a soft fall of fountain spray into my face.

  It was that easy. I finally understood why the Fae were able to influence the climate and plant life. They were each connected to the planet to varying degrees, drawing power from its core, according to the abilities of their caste.

  I could sift. I could freaking sift! That was one power I was going to miss when I transferred the True Magic to Cruce.

 

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