I looked at the men clustered around me, and realized that all of them had touched me, Rhys wrapped around my waist and side; Frost on the other side, arm a little higher; Doyle with his strong dark hands on my face; Abe with his hand on my shoulder so he could lean in and not fall (even sober his balance seemed shaky sometimes). Galen had touched me because he always touched me when he could. It was as if I’d reached a critical mass of touch. I could think. I was no longer besotted like the good Miss Nelson. Once I’d thought that Andais appearing on the mirror calls draped in men had been a way to taunt and shock Taranis and his court. In only two mirror calls of my very own, I’d learned that there was a method to her madness. For me, either five was the magic number or the mix of these five men’s powers was what worked. Either way, it was going to be a different phone call than it would have been if Taranis’s spell had worked on me. Interesting.
“Meredith,” Taranis called. “Meredith, look upon me.”
I knew that there was power to that voice. I felt it as one would sense the ocean. Whispering and close. But I was no longer standing in the water. I was no longer in danger of drowning in that voice.
“I see you, Uncle Taranis. I see you very well,” I said, and my voice was strong and firm, and caused the arch of a perfect sunset-colored eyebrow to raise.
“I can barely see you through the crowd of your men,” he said. There was a tone to his voice that I couldn’t discern. Anxiety, anger; something unpleasant.
Doyle, Galen, and Abe began to move away from me. Even Frost started to pull away. Only Rhys stayed wedded to my side. The moment their hands fell away, Taranis was edged with light.
“Stay where you are, my men,” I said. “I am your princess. He is not your king.”
The men hesitated. Doyle moved back to me first, and the rest followed his lead. I put his hand to my face, and tried to tell him with my eyes what was happening. The spell was aimed so surely at me, like an arrow for my mind alone. How could I explain to them without words, what was happening?
Rhys settled himself more firmly around my waist, tucking me close, leaving just enough room for Frost’s arm to slide back across my shoulders. Abe went to stand behind me, placing a hand on my shoulder closest to Rhys. Galen joined him, and though clearly puzzled, added his hand to my other shoulder closer to Frost. I gave the hand that wasn’t wrapped around Rhys’s waist to Doyle. The moment they were all touching me, even through clothing, the light around the king was gone. Taranis was handsome, but that was all.
“Meredith,” Taranis said, “how can you insult me like this? These men attacked a lady of my court, savaged her. Yet you stand there with them…touching you, as if they are your court favorites.”
“But, uncle, they are some of my favorites.”
“Meredith,” he said, and he sounded shocked, like an elderly relative who just heard you say “fuck” for the first time.
Biggs and Shelby both tried to move in and smooth things over. I think the reason the lawyers hadn’t interfered more before was that even the men were getting a sideswipe of the spell that Taranis had brought to this meeting. Either he had brought this magic for some specific purpose or he always held this magic when dealing with Queen Andais, and now me. I had not been able to sense it when we last spoke to Taranis. But then, neither had Doyle, or any of the other men. It wasn’t just me who had grown in power from our few days in faerie. The Goddess had been a very busy deity. We had all been changed by her touch, and by the touch of her consort, the God.
“I will not speak of this matter in front of the monsters that savaged a woman of my court.” Taranis’s voice rolled through the room like the whisper of a storm. The humans all reacted as if it were more than a whisper. I was safe behind the hands of my men from whatever Taranis was trying to do.
Shelby turned to us. “I think it’s a reasonable request to have the three accused wait outside while we talk to the king.”
“No,” I said.
“Princess Meredith,” Shelby said, “you’re being unreasonable.”
“Mr. Shelby, you’re being magically manipulated,” I said, smiling at him.
He frowned at me. “I don’t understand what you mean by that.”
“I know you don’t,” I said. I turned to Taranis. “What you are doing to them is illegal by human law. The very law you have appealed to for aid.”
“I have not asked for human aid,” he said.
“You accused my men under human law.”
“I petitioned Queen Andais for justice, but she refused to acknowledge my right to judge her Unseelie sidhe.”
“You rule the Seelie Court,” I said, “not the Unseelie.”
“So your queen made clear to me.”
“So when Queen Andais denied your request at her court, you turned to the humans.”
“I appealed to you, Meredith, but you would not even answer my calls.”
“Queen Andais advised me against it, and she is my queen and my father’s sister. I heeded her advice.” It had actually been more of an order. She’d said that whatever evil Taranis had planned I should avoid him. When someone as powerful as Andais says to avoid someone for fear of what they will do, I listen. I had not been so arrogant as to believe that Taranis’s entire purpose was to simply have me talk to him on a mirror call. Andais had not believed that that was his purpose either, but now, today, I was beginning to wonder. I could think of nothing I could offer him that would make this much effort worthwhile.
“But now, because of human law, you must speak to me,” he said.
Biggs said, “The princess agreed to this meeting out of courtesy. She was not compelled to be here.”
Taranis’s eyes never even moved to look at the lawyer. “But you are here, now, and you are more beautiful than I remember. I was very lax in my attentions to you, Meredith.”
I laughed, and it was a harsh sound. “Oh, no, Uncle Taranis, I think you were quite thorough in your attentions to me. Almost more thorough than my mortal body could endure.”
Doyle, Rhys, and Frost all tensed against me. I knew what they meant by it: have a care, don’t give away court secrets in front of the humans. But Taranis had begun it, dragging us out before the humans. I was only following his lead.
“Will you never forget that one moment in your childhood?”
“You nearly beat me to death, Uncle. I am not likely to forget it.” “I did not understand how fragile your body was, Meredith, or I would never have touched you so.”
Veducci recovered first, saying, “Is King Taranis admitting that he beat you as a child, Princess?”
I looked at my uncle, so large, so imposing, so regal in his gold and white court clothes. “He is not denying it, are you Uncle Taranis?”
“Please, Meredith, uncle seems so formal.” His voice was wheedling. From the way Nelson began to walk closer to the mirror, I think the tone was meant to be seductive.
“He is not denying it,” Doyle said.
“I am not speaking to you, Darkness,” Taranis said, and his voice tried to thunder again. But as the seduction had not worked, so now the threat fell flat as well.
“King Taranis,” Biggs said, “are you admitting that you beat my client as a child?”
Taranis finally turned to him, frowning. Biggs reacted as if the sun itself had smiled at him. He actually stumbled in his speech and looked uncertain.
Taranis said, “What I did years ago has no bearing on the crime that these monsters committed.”
Veducci turned to me. “How badly did he beat you, Princess Meredith?”
“I remember how red my blood was on the white marble,” I said. I looked at Veducci as I spoke, though I could feel Taranis’s magic pushing at me, calling me to look at him. I looked at Veducci because I could, and because I knew that it would unnerve the king. “If my Gran, my grandmother, had not interfered I believe he would have beaten me to death.”
“You hold a grudge, Meredith. I have apologized for my actions that day.”
“Yes,” I said, turning back to the mirror. “You have recently apologized for that beating.”
“Why did he beat you?” Veducci asked.
Taranis roared, “That is not the business of humans.”
He’d beat me when I’d asked why Maeve Reed, once the goddess Conchenn, had been exiled from his court. She was the golden goddess of Hollywood now, and had been for fifty years. We were all still living on her estate in Holmby Hills, though the recent addition of so many men was beginning to tax even her space. Maeve had given us some new room by going to Europe. It was far enough away to stay out of Taranis’s way—or that was the hope.
Maeve had told us Taranis’s deep dark secret. He had wanted to marry her after putting away a third wife for barrenness. Maeve had refused, pointing out that the last wife he’d put away had gone on to have children with someone else. She dared to tell the king that it was he who was barren, not the women. A hundred years ago Maeve had told him this, but he had exiled her and forbidden anyone to speak to her. Because if his court found out that a century ago he had known that he might be barren, and said nothing, did nothing…. If the king is barren, the people and land are barren. He had condemned them to a slow death as a people. They lived almost forever, but no children meant that when they died, there would be no more Seelie sidhe. If his court found out what he had done, they were within our laws to demand a living sacrifice, with Taranis in the starring role.
He had twice tried to kill Maeve with magic, horrible spells that no Seelie would admit to doing. He had tried to kill her, and not us, even though he had to wonder if we knew his screct. He feared our queen, or perhaps he didn’t think his court would believe anyone who was part of the Unseelie Court. Perhaps that was why Maeve was the threat and not us.
“If you abused the princess when she was a child, that may affect this case,” Veducci said.
“I now regret my temper in that moment with this woman,” Taranis said. “But my one thoughtless moment decades ago does not change the fact that the three Unseelie sidhe before me did worse to the Lady Caitrin.”
“If there is a pattern of abuse between the princess and the king,” Biggs said, “then his accusations against her lovers may have a motive behind them.”
“Are you implying a romantic motive for the king?” Cortez put a great deal of disdain in his voice, as if it were laughable.
“He wouldn’t be the first man to beat a girl as a child, then turn to sexual abuse as she grew older,” Biggs said.
“What did he accuse me of?” Taranis asked.
“Mr. Biggs is trying to prove that you have romantic intentions toward the princess,” Cortez said, “and I am telling him that this is not so.”
“Romantic intentions,” Taranis repeated slowly. “What does he mean by that?”
“Do you have sexual or marital intentions toward Princess Meredith?” Biggs asked.
“I do not see what such a question has to do with the savage attack by those Unseelie monsters on the beautiful Lady Caitrin.”
All the men touching me tensed again or went very still, even Galen. They had all realized that the king had not answered the question. The sidhe only avoided answering a question for two reasons. One, sheer perversity and a love of word games. Taranis had no love of word games, and was one of the least perverse of the sidhe. Two, that the answer was something that they didn’t want to admit to. But the only answer Taranis could possibly want to avoid was “yes.” It couldn’t be “yes.” He couldn’t have romantic designs on me. He couldn’t.
I looked up at Doyle and Frost. I looked for a clue as to what to do. Did I ignore it, or pursue it? Which was better? Which was worse?
Cortez said, “Though we have sympathy with the princess’ childhood tragedies, we are here to investigate a new tragedy, the attack by these three men on Lady Caitrin.”
I looked at Cortez. He actually looked away from my gaze, as if his statement sounded harsh even to his own ears.
“You do understand that you are all being magically influenced by him?” I asked.
“I think I would know if I were being influenced, Princess Meredith,” Cortez said.
“The nature of magical manipulation,” Veducci said, coming forward, “is that you don’t know it’s happening. It’s why it’s so very illegal.”
Biggs faced the mirror. “Are you using magic to manipulate the people in this room, King Taranis?”
“I am not trying to manipulate the entire room, Mr. Biggs,” Taranis said.
“May we ask a question?” Doyle asked.
“I will not speak to the monsters of the Unseelie Court,” Taranis said.
“Captain Doyle is not accused of any crime,” Biggs said. I realized that the lawyers on our side were having less trouble with Taranis’s magical presence than those on the other side, except for Veducci, who seemed to be doing just fine. The lawyers had entered into an agreement with Taranis, just a verbal one, but that would be enough for someone of his power to have more of a hold over all of them. It was the subtle magic of kingship. If you agreed to be a true king’s man, there was power to that agreement. Taranis had once been chosen by faerie to be king, and even now there was power to that old bargain.
“They are all monsters,” Taranis said. He looked at me, gave me all the longing those green-petaled eyes could hold. “Meredith, Meredith, come to us before the power of the Unseelie makes of you something horrible.”
If I hadn’t broken his spell on me earlier, that appeal might have drawn me to him. But I stood safe among my men, and our power.
“I have seen both courts, Uncle. I found them both equally beautiful and horrible in their own ways.”
“How can you compare the light and joy of the Golden Court to the darkness and terror of the Darkling Throne?”
“I am probably the only sidhe noble in recent history who can compare them, Uncle.”
“Taranis, Meredith. Please, Taranis.”
I didn’t like his insistence that I call him by name and not title. In front of the Unseelie, he was always very aware of his title. In fact, he hadn’t asked for all his appellations to be read. It wasn’t like him to forgo anything that built him up in the eyes of others.
“Very well, Uncle…Taranis.” The moment I said it, there was more weight in the air. It was harder to breathe. He’d joined his name to the spell of attraction so that every time I said his name, it would bind me more tightly. That was against the rules. Duels had been fought over less between the sidhe in any court. But you did not challenge the king to a duel. One, he was king, and two, he’d once been among the greatest warriors the sidhe could boast. He might be diminished, but I was mortal, and I’d swallow any insult he tossed our way. Maybe he’d counted on that?
Doyle said, “We need a chair for our princess.”
The lawyers brought a chair, apologizing for not thinking of it sooner. Magic can do that, make you forget what you’re about. Make you forget the mundane things like chairs and that your legs get tired, until you realize that your body hurts and that you’ve been ignoring it. I sat down gratefully. I’d have worn lower heels if I’d known I’d be standing this much.
There was some confusion as I sat so that for a moment not all my men were touching me. Taranis was edged with golden light. Then the men settled into their places and he was ordinary again. All right, Taranis was as ordinary as he would ever be.
Frost stayed standing at my back with his hand on my shoulder. I’d expected Doyle to take his place at my back as well, but it was Rhys who stood at my other shoulder. Doyle knelt on the floor beside me, with one hand on my arm. Galen moved in front of me so that he sat tailor-fashion at my feet, leaning his back against my hose-covered legs. One of his hands moved up and down my calf, an idle gesture that would have been possessive in a human but might have simply been nerves in one of the fey. Abe knelt at my other side, mirroring Doyle. Well, not exactly mirroring. Doyle had one hand on the pommel of his short sword, his other hand q
uietly on mine. Abe’s hand gripped my other hand, squeezing. If he’d been human, I’d have said he was afraid. Then I realized that this might have been the first time since Taranis cast him out that he had seen his ex-king. Abe had never been one of Queen Andais’s favorites, so he wouldn’t have been included on the mirror calls between courts.
I leaned over enough so I could lay my cheek against his hair. Abe looked up, startled, as if he hadn’t expected me to return his gestures. The queen was more for receiving than giving, in everything but pain. I gave his surprise a smile, and tried to tell him with my eyes that I was sorry I hadn’t thought what seeing the king might mean for him this day.
“I must take part of the blame that you sit among them so happily, Meredith,” Taranis said. “If you had only known the pleasure of a Seelie sidhe, you would never let them touch you again.”
“Most of the sidhe around me now were once part of the Seelie Court,” I said, simply leaving off his name. I wanted to know whether if I ceased to say “Uncle,” he would try to get his name to pass my lips for some other made-up reason. I’d felt the pull of magic when I said his name.
“They have been nobles of the Unseelie Court for centuries, Meredith,” Taranis said. “They have become twisted things, but you have nothing to compare them to, and that was a grave oversight on the part of the Seelie. I am most heartily sorry that we neglected you so. I would make it up to you.”
“What do you mean, they are twisted things?” I asked. I thought I knew, but I’d learned not to jump to conclusions when I dealt with either court.
“Lady Caitrin has told of the horrors of their bodies. None of the three of them are powerful enough in glamour to hide their true selves during intimacies.”
Biggs came to my side as if I’d asked. “The lady’s statement is quite graphic, and reads more like a horror movie than anything else.”
A Lick of Frost Page 6