A Lick of Frost

by Laurell K. Hamilton

  I took a deep breath and let it out, slowly. “I think so. It means that Lady Caitrin has everything to lose here. If she is caught in an actual lie, she could be cast out of faerie. Exile is considered worse than death to the Seelie nobility.”

  “Not just the nobility,” Rhys said.

  The other guards nodded. “He is right,” Doyle said. “Even the lesser fey would do much to avoid exile.”

  “So how is the lady lying?” Veducci asked us.

  Galen spoke, voice low, a little uncertain. “Could it be an illusion? Could someone have used glamour so strong that it fooled her?”

  “You mean made her think she was being attacked when she wasn’t?” Nelson asked.

  “I’m not sure that would be possible on a member of the sidhe,” Veducci said. He looked at us.

  “What if it wasn’t completely an illusion,” Rhys said.

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “You make a tree by planting a stick in the ground. You create a castle from the ruin of one,” he said.

  “It would be easier to do such a thing if you had something physical to build upon,” Doyle said.

  “What could you build on for an attack?” Galen asked.

  Doyle looked at him. The look was eloquent, but Galen didn’t understand it. I got it first. “You mean the stories of our people appearing as dead warriors coming into the widows’ beds, that kind of thing.”

  “Yes,” Doyle said, “illusion used as a disguise.”

  “Very few in faerie have such power of illusion now,” Frost said. “There might only be one in all of faerie who could pull it off,” Galen said. His green eyes were suddenly very serious.

  “You can’t mean…” Frost started to say, then stopped. We all thought it.

  Abe said, “That son of a bitch.”

  Veducci spoke as if he’d read our minds. It made me wonder if without his protections from faerie magic I’d have read him as a psychic, or more. “The King of Light and Illusion, how good are his powers of illusion?”

  “Fuck,” Shelby said. “You did not just say that. You did not just give them reasonable doubt.”

  Veducci smiled at us. “The princess and her men had reasonable doubt when they stepped into the room, but they would never have accused the king out loud in front of us. They’d have kept their secrets even from their lawyers.”

  I had an awful idea. I moved toward Veducci, only Doyle’s hand on my arm stopping me from touching the man. He was right, they might see that as magical interference. “Mr. Veducci, are you planning on accusing my uncle of this plot on the mirror call today?”

  “I thought I’d leave that to your lawyers.”

  My skin was suddenly cold. I felt the blood drain from my face. Veducci looked uncertain, and almost reached out to me. “Are you feeling all right, Princess?”

  “I’m frightened for you, for all of you, and for us,” I said. “You do not understand Taranis. He has been absolute ruler of the Seelie Court for more than a thousand years. That has led to an arrogance you can’t even begin to imagine. He pretends to be the jolly, handsome king for you humans, but he shows quite a different face to those of us in the Unseelie Court. If you accuse him bluntly of this, I do not know what he will do.”

  “Would he hurt us?” Nelson asked.

  “No, but he might use magic on you,” I replied. “He is the King of Light and Illusion. I have stood in his presence, just over a mirror call, and he has almost bespelled me. I almost fell to his power, and I am a princess of the Unseelie Court. You are human. If he truly wanted to bespell you, he could.”

  “That would be illegal,” Shelby said.

  “He is a king with the power of life and death in his hands,” I said. “He doesn’t think like a modern man, no matter how much he apes it for the press.” I felt dizzy, and someone brought me a chair.

  Doyle knelt beside me. “Are you unwell, Meredith?” he whispered.

  Nelson asked, “Are you all right, Princess Meredith?”

  “I’m tired, and scared,” I said. “You have no idea what the last few days have been like, and I daren’t tell you.”

  “Does it have anything to do with this case?” Cortez asked.

  I looked up at him. “You mean the reason that I’m tired and scared?”

  “Yes.”

  “No, it has nothing to do with these false accusations.” I reached for Doyle’s hand. “Make them understand that they must tread carefully with Taranis.”

  Doyle took my hand in his and said, “I will do my best, my princess.”

  I smiled up at him. “I know you will.”

  Frost came to the other side of me and touched my cheek. “You are pale. Even for one of us with moonlight skin, you are pale.”

  Abeloec came closer to me. “I had heard that the princess was human enough to catch colds. I thought it was a nasty rumor.”

  “You can’t catch colds?” Nelson asked.

  “They can’t,” I said, pressing my cheek against Frost’s hand, and still holding on to Doyle. “But I can. I don’t get them often, but I can get them.” In my head I added, “the very first mortal faerie princess.” It was one of the reasons for all the assassination attempts on the Unseelie Court. There were factions that believed that if I sat the throne I would contaminate all the immortals with the disease of mortality. I would bring death to them all. How do you argue against a rumor like that, when they can’t even catch a cold? And I was about to talk to the most bright and shiny of them all, King Taranis, Lord of Light and Illusion. Goddess help me if he realized that I was coming down with some petty human illness. It would just confirm for him how weak I was, how human I was.

  “It’s almost time for the king to contact us,” Veducci said, looking at his watch.

  “If his time is running on schedule with ours,” Cortez said.

  Veducci nodded. “True, but may I suggest that we get some cold metal for the rest of you to carry?”

  “Cold metal?” Nelson made it a question.

  “I think some of the office supplies of this fine law firm might just help the rest of you have clear vision when we deal with King Taranis.”

  “Office supplies,” Cortez said. “You mean like paper clips?”

  “Maybe,” Veducci said. He turned to me. “What do you think, Princess, would a paper clip be helpful?”

  “It depends on what it’s made out of, but a handful of them might help.”

  “We can test it for you,” Rhys said.

  “How?” Veducci said.

  “If it bothers us to touch it, it’ll help you.”

  “I thought it was only lesser fey that couldn’t touch metal,” Cortez said.

  “Some of them can actually be burned by the touch of some metals, but even the sidhe don’t truly enjoy most man-forged metal,” Rhys said, still with that smile.

  “Burned just by touching metal,” Nelson said.

  “We don’t have time to discuss the wonders of the fey if we’re going to get those office supplies,” Veducci said.

  Farmer hit the intercom and spoke to one of the many secretaries and personal assistants who had seemed to be in the offices outside. He requested metal paper clips and staples. I suggested, “Box cutters, pocket knives.”

  Shelby, Grover, and the other male assistant all had pocket knives. “You were pretty fascinated with the princess,” Veducci said. “I’d add a handful of something else, just in case.”

  I watched Veducci hand out the office supplies. He’d taken charge, and no one had questioned it. He was supposed to be our enemy, but he was helping us. Had he told the truth? Was he here for justice, or was it a lie? Until I found out what Taranis wanted, I couldn’t afford to trust anyone.

  Veducci came to stand in front of where I sat. He nodded at Doyle and Frost, who were still pressed to me, one on each side. “May I offer the princess some extra metal to hold?”

  “She is carrying metal, as are we all.”

  “The guns and swords, we
see them.” Then Veducci’s eyes flicked to me. “Are you saying the princess is armed?”

  I was, actually. I had a knife strapped to my thigh in a holder I’d worn before. I had a gun at the small of my back in one of those new sideways holsters that were designed to be worn there. We didn’t actually expect me to use the gun for shooting, but it was a way to carry a lot of metal—steel and lead—on me and not make it obvious to Taranis. He’d see me wearing metal as an insult. The guards could get away with it, because they were guards; they were supposed to be armed.

  “The princess is carrying what she needs to protect herself,” Doyle said.

  Veducci did a little bow from the neck. “Then I’ll put the office supplies back in the box.”

  Trumpets sounded, sweet and clear, as if they rained music down upon us from some great height. It was the sound of King Taranis calling on the mirror. He was being polite, and waiting for someone to touch the mirror on our side. The trumpets sounded again as we all stared at the blank mirror.

  Doyle and Frost got me to my feet. Rhys came in at my side, as if they’d discussed it beforehand. Doyle moved forward, letting Rhys take his place at my side. Rhys gave me a one-armed hug, and whispered, “Sorry to move your favorite out of his spot.”

  I turned and looked at him, because jealousy was supposed to be a human emotion. Rhys let me see in his face that he knew that my heart had chosen even if my body hadn’t. He let me know that he knew how I felt about Doyle, and that it hurt him. One look, full of so much.

  Doyle touched the mirror, and Rhys whispered, “Smile for the king.”

  I let the smile I’d practiced for years slide over my face. The smile that was pleasant, but not too happy. It was a court smile, a smile to hide behind, and think thoughts that had nothing to do with smiles at all.

  CHAPTER 4

  THE MIRROR FILLED WITH LIGHT, SHINING, GOLDEN SUNLIGHT, until we all had to turn our eyes away or be blinded by the brilliance, the brilliance of Taranis, King of Light and Illusion. A man’s voice, I think it was Shelby’s, spoke from the dimness of my closed eyelids, “What the hell is this?”

  “The king, boasting,” I said. I shouldn’t have said it, but I wasn’t feeling well, and I was angry. Angry at having to be here at all. Angry and scared, because I knew Taranis well enough to be certain that the other shoe had not even begun to drop.

  “Boasting,” a joyous male voice said. “This is not boasting, Meredith, this is what I am.” He’d used only my name, and none of my titles. It was an insult, and we were going to let him get away with it. But more surprising, he hadn’t announced himself formally. He was being as informal as if we were talking privately. It was almost, as if to him, the human lawyers didn’t really count.

  Veducci’s voice spoke out of the blinding light that had become the room. “King Taranis, I’ve spoken to you several times and never been so blinded by your light. If you could have pity on us mere humans and dim your glory just a bit?”

  “What think you of my glory, Meredith?” the joyous voice asked, and the sound alone made me smile even as I squinted to save my eyes.

  Frost squeezed my hand, and that touch of skin on skin helped me think. Taranis was not a power of flesh and sex. To combat what he was so good at, you had to use the magic you were good at, just to be able to think in Taranis’s presence. I reached for Rhys, until my hand found the bare skin of his neck and cheek. The touch of both of them helped me think. “I think your glory is wondrous, Uncle Taranis.” He’d been familiar first, using only my first name, so I figured I’d try to remind him that I was his niece. That I wasn’t just some Unseelie noblewoman to impress.

  I wasn’t too insulted; except for his use of my first name, he did the same kind of crap to Queen Andais. The two of them had been trying to outmagic each other for centuries. I had simply been dropped into the middle of a game that I had no hope of winning. If Andais herself could not shut down Taranis’s magic in a mirror call, then my own much more humble abilities were outclassed. My men and I had known that coming into this call. I had hoped that with the lawyers present, Taranis might tone things down a bit. Apparently not.

  “Uncle makes me sound old, Meredith. Taranis, you must call me Taranis.” His voice made it sound like we were old friends, and he was so very happy to see me. The voice alone made me want to say yes to anything and everything. Any other sidhe being caught using his voice and magic on another sidhe like this would lead to a duel, or to being punished by their queen or king. But he was the king, and that meant that people didn’t call him on it. But I’d been forced to call him on something similar the last time I’d spoken with him like this; could I afford to start out as rude as I’d ended the last time?

  “Taranis, then, Uncle. Could you please tone down your wonder so that we may all look upon you?”

  “Is the light hurting your eyes?”

  “Yes,” I said, and there were other affirmatives from behind me. The full-blooded humans must have been in real discomfort by now.

  “Then I will dim my light for you, Meredith.” He made my name sound like a piece of candy on his tongue. Something sweet, and thick, and suckable.

  Frost drew my hand to his mouth, and kissed my knuckles. It helped me shake off the effect that Taranis was trying hard to get from me. He’d done this last time, a magical seduction so powerful it damn near hurt.

  Rhys snuggled closer to my side, nuzzling along my neck. He whispered, “He’s not just trying to impress us all, Merry, he’s aiming straight at you.”

  I turned into his face, even with my eyes still closed against the light. “He did this last time.”

  Rhys’s hand found the back of my hair, turning my face toward his. “Not exactly this, Merry. He’s trying harder to win you over.”

  Rhys kissed me. It was a gentle kiss, I think more conscious of the red lipstick I was wearing than of any sense of decorum. Frost rubbed his thumb over my hand. Their touches kept me from sinking into Taranis’s voice, and the pull of the light.

  I felt Doyle standing in front of me before I actually opened my eyes. He kissed me on the forehead, adding his touch to the others as if he already knew what Taranis was doing. He moved to my left, and at first I didn’t realize what he was doing, then Taranis’s voice came, not nearly as happy as he’d sounded before. “Meredith, how dare you come before me with the monsters that attacked my lady, standing there as if they had done no wrong? Why are they not in shackles?” His voice was still a good, rich voice, but it was just a voice. Even Taranis couldn’t make those words, that outrage, work with the warm, seductive tone.

  The light had dimmed some. Doyle was blocking some of my view, and partially blocking Rhys from the king’s view, but I’d seen this show before. Taranis was dimming the light so that it looked as if he were forming from the brilliance. Forming a face, a body, his clothes, out of light itself.

  Biggs said, “My clients are innocent until proven guilty, King Taranis.”

  “Do you doubt the word of the nobles of the Seelie Court?” I didn’t think the outrage was feigned this time.

  “I’m a lawyer, your highness. I doubt everything.”

  I think Biggs meant it as humor, but if he had, he didn’t know his audience. Taranis had no sense of humor that I was aware of. Oh, he thought he was funny, but no one else was allowed to be funnier than the king. The last rumor from the Seelie Court was that even Taranis’s court jester had been imprisoned for impertinence.

  I’d have complained more if Andais hadn’t slain her last court jester some four or five hundred years before.

  “Was that meant to be humor?” The king’s voice reverberated through the room, like a roll of quiet thunder. It was one of his names, Taranis Thunderer. Once he’d been a sky and storm god. The Romans had equated him with their own Jupiter, though his powers had never been as far-reaching as Jupiter’s.

  “Apparently not,” Biggs said, trying to put a pleasant face on it.

  Taranis was finally revealed in the mir
ror. He was edged with glow, as if the colors of everything about him wavered. His hair and beard were at least his true color, the reds and orange of a spectacular sunset. The locks of his curling hair were painted with the glory of the sky when the sun sinks to the west. His eyes were truly multi-petals of green: jade, grass, shades of leaves. It was as if a green flower had been substituted for the iris of his eyes. As a small child, before I knew that he disdained me, I’d truly thought him handsome.

  “Oh, my God,” Nelson said in a breathy voice.

  I looked behind myself at her, the wide eyes, the almost slack face. “You’ve only seen the pictures of him pretending to be human, haven’t you?”

  “He had red hair and green eyes, not this, not this,” she said. Cortez, her boss, took her elbow and got her to a chair. Cortez was angry and was having trouble hiding it. Interesting reaction on his part.

  Taranis turned those green-petaled eyes toward the woman. “Few human women have seen me in all my glory in many years. What do you think of me in my true form, pretty girl?”

  I was pretty sure that you didn’t get to be assistant district attorney in Los Angeles by letting men call you pretty girl. But if Nelson had a problem with it, she didn’t say so. She looked besotted with him, drunk with his attention.

  Abe came to join us in our huddled group. Galen trailed behind him, looking puzzled. It was Abe who leaned in and whispered, “There is some magic here that is not merely light and illusion. If it were almost anyone else, I would say that he has added love magic to his bag of tricks.”

  Doyle drew Abe closer to us all, and whispered, “A spell powerful enough that it is affecting Ms. Nelson.”

  They all agreed.

  We hadn’t meant to ignore Taranis, but he was so terribly busy flirting with Nelson that it was easy to forget that just because a king is ignoring you doesn’t mean that you are allowed to ignore the king.

  “I did not come here to be insulted,” he said in that thundery voice. Once it would have impressed me, but I’d been intimate with Mistral. He was a storm god, too, but one who could make lightning pour down a hallway inside the faerie mound. Taranis’s rumbly voice just couldn’t compare to Mistral. In fact, as the men parted so that I could see my uncle more clearly, he looked a little overdone, like a man who’s overdressed for a date.