by M. J. Scott
I frowned and narrowed my eyes to bring him better into focus. Very tall, well muscled, longish dirty blond hair. Probably Beast Kind.
“Anyone got a spyglass?” I asked.
“What’s up?” Guy said, joining me. Rhian came up to my other side, pulling a small telescope out of the pouch at her waist and handing it to me.
I passed it to Guy. “Someone’s paying us some attention. Anyone you know?”
Guy studied the man for a few minutes. “By the hair, I’d guess a Delacroix.”
Delacroix. One of the Beast Kind packs. “From where he’s standing, I’m guessing they’re one of the packs who are fully behind Ignatius.”
“Yes,” Guy said shortly. “Paul Delacroix was cozy with Lord Lucius and didn’t take long to consolidate his position with Ignatius.”
“So I guess Ignatius will know that we’re moving in.”
“Nothing we didn’t expect,” Guy said. “This close to the border, both sides are keeping an eye on things.”
I nodded. It was, as Guy had said, to be expected, but that didn’t mean that I had to like it. “Well, we’ll just have to do our best to keep things moving around, keep them on their toes so they can’t get the full picture of how many of us there are here at any one time.”
“We can always glamour a few more men into existence,” Rhian said.
“Not a bad idea,” Guy said with a nod. “The Blood can see through glamour, but not all the Beasts can. I’m sure they’ve been outside the City snooping around your forces already, but the more men they think we’ve got, the better.”
“Did all the Beast Kind packs side with the Night World?” I asked.
“Adeline says yes. Though she also says that some of them wouldn’t have been very happy about it. But none of them were smart enough to lay any groundwork with us and give themselves a chance of forming an alliance so quickly once Ignatius declared himself. Any Beast Kind approaching us after that wouldn’t have been trusted. So they didn’t have a lot of choice.”
“Unlike the Blood?”
“Adeline and her people turned up seeking Haven. Under Haven law, they can be killed if they turn on us. And they were pretty beaten up when they got here.”
“Easy enough for the Blood to fake some injuries. It’s not like it’s going to do them any lasting harm.”
“Bryony says they’re not lying. Lily too. And Holly had worked for Adeline before.”
And there was the holy trinity of women that Guy wouldn’t doubt. That much had become clear in the short time I’d known the man. There were a few more women on that list. His sisters and his mother, primarily, probably some of the other healers. But if Holly, Bryony, and Lily were united in a viewpoint, I couldn’t see him going against them without very good reason.
Which made him an eminently sensible man. A Fae, a wraith, and a former spy hai-salai were a formidable trio. Gods help me if they took Rhian under their wing.
Maybe we could just send the women out to solve the problem.
Or maybe not. Knowing Bryony’s temper, there might be a certain amount of scorched earth to deal with in the aftermath. Women could be far more ruthless than men, given the right motivation. I’d learned that lesson well enough.
After all, a queen had banished me and I was fairly sure another woman had orchestrated my fall from grace. I had no proof, but perhaps, after all this was done, I would spend some time in Summerdale and see what I could find.
“We should get back,” Rhian said, “start getting the men assigned and settled.”
Guy snapped the glass shut and handed it to me. I took another long look at the man standing in the crossroads, committing his face to memory. Blood ran true amongst the Beasts. They tended to strong family resemblances. I would have to get the Templars to give us a full update on the packs and who was who.
I shook my head. Perhaps, after this, if we all survived, I would find some deserted patch of land and never get involved in anything more complicated than deciding what I might like for dinner for a decade or two. Thirty years of strategy and tactics and war were making me cynical and weary.
I had seen too many men come and go in that time. Some cashed out and retired, but more had died. A lower percentage than other mercenary troops perhaps, but still I had seen a lot of death. More than most Fae would see in their lifetimes. It was hard to watch my human friends age so quickly and pass by.
I wondered if Bryony had learned the same lesson as me. Time moved fast, no matter how much of it you were allotted. One should make the most of it.
I turned back from the window and nodded at Rhian. “All right, let’s get this started.”
Chapter Seven
BRYONY
It was two days before I heard back from my uncle. My father, really. Two days spent dealing with the aftermath of the fire and planning for the hospital and how we could continue to operate if any of a dozen different scenarios took place.
Two days spent doing my best to avoid Ash. I didn’t manage to succeed entirely. He was working for the Templars, and the Templars were consulting with me. He managed to worm his way into the meetings more often than not. I knew he had a good reason for being there, but it was still irritating.
He was circumspect in public, but he watched me. Watched me with those deep gray eyes until my skin itched in response. Itched and tingled with awareness until I wanted to scream.
Even when he wasn’t there, I was aware of him. I could feel the echo of his power, that deep hot stillness, moving throughout the City, more powerful than any of the other Fae residents. My equal. Maybe more.
And that was irritating too.
Of course, he wasn’t used to the iron, so whether or not he could actually call on his full power if he needed to was a question as yet unanswered. Not that I’d ever had to try to call on mine to its full extent either. Healing was part of me, but it wasn’t the whole. I had other magics that I didn’t use for that skill. Magics that I barely touched here. I hoped I’d never have to.
The other thing that made me itch was waiting for my father’s response. Every second that ticked away was one second longer for Ignatius to consolidate his position, for him to decide that he’d had enough time waiting and that it was time to act.
Time to start the killing.
The whole City strained with that knowledge, tension and worry scenting the air like woodsmoke.
I didn’t know if the humans could sense it, but my Fae healers could. They moved a little too quickly, let frowns wrinkle usually calm faces. I had told them time and again that they were free to return to Summerdale, but the ones still here were the ones who, like me, had decided that this was where they were supposed to be, no matter what. I only hoped they would all live not to regret that choice.
At least, with so few of us left here now, we were able to keep tabs on one another, stay close to the hospital and away from the Night World. There had been no more disappearances, and for that I was thankful.
I was less thankful for Ash. And for the crumbling control I had over my memories. They kept sneaking out to catch me unawares, striking like daggers when I let my focus wander. The first time Ash had smiled at me and my heart had skipped. The first time he’d spoken my name.
The first time we’d kissed. That one kept returning. A deadly snare. Pulling me back to a night when, if only I’d made a different choice, I wouldn’t even care that Ash had returned.
One night. One little choice . . .
There were flowers on my stairs again. Small unassuming flowers, delicately green and white. Glowing in the moonlight that streamed down on the garden outside my rooms.
I knew what they were, of course. Bryony flowers.
From the plant I was named for. They weren’t usually beautiful, though bryony had useful healing properties.
These ones, though, were beautiful, softly shining and filled with a perfume that no bryony plant had ever issued.
I’d been finding bryony flowers in odd places for week
s now.
I thought I knew who was leaving them.
I hoped I knew who was leaving them.
But surely even he wasn’t crazy enough to sneak onto my father’s lands to leave flowers at my doorstep.
Asharic sa’Uriel’pellar had a wild streak a mile wide and fire that burned deep within him, but I didn’t think he was insane. But maybe I was.
Because I bent to retrieve the flowers and then stepped out into the moonlight. “Ash?”
One heartbeat. Two. And a third.
Then he appeared, stepping out of the darkness beneath one of the vast oaks that grew here in our gardens to walk toward me. “You knew it was me.”
Hoped. Not knew. I didn’t correct him, just watched him come closer, my heartbeat speeding. He wore a white shirt, one sleeve torn, dark trousers, soft boots. But my focus was on the night-lit-water shade of his eyes. On the heat warming that color to something fierce. Something undeniable. The fire that lived in the depths of his power called to me, as did the man himself.
He stopped maybe a foot away and sketched a bow. “My lady. Do you like my flowers?”
I looked down at the shimmering blooms. “They’re beautiful.”
He smiled at that and I knew at that moment that the rest was inevitable.
“My lady, do you perhaps like me?”
The flowers fell from my hands, the words catching in my throat, seemingly too big to utter. Instead I moved closer and pulled him to me. Brought his mouth down on mine.
And learned what fire truly was.
• • •
Finally, near midday on the fourth day after Asharic’s return, a messenger arrived. Not my uncle this time, but Hennin, one of the guards who had served my Family for longer than I had been alive, was the courier. I had never seen him set foot outside Summerdale, and I caught myself before I could express my startlement in a way that would only embarrass him.
The envelope he carried was sealed with both my father’s seal and his magic, the night-dark blue sheen of it floating around the paper like fog. My father’s magic always felt heavy to me, like the air on a hot summer’s night. Weighty. Hard to move. Prone to storms.
I took the envelope and smiled my thanks at Hennin. “Did you come alone?”
He nodded.
Interesting. Then again, my father’s logic would be that either Hennin, skilled warrior that he was, would manage the journey with ease or, if he didn’t, then, well, he was only a servitor after all.
I sometimes loathed my father more than I could express.
“Can I get you some refreshment? Tea?”
Hennin, predictably, refused. Maybe I could send him down to the hospital kitchens before he returned. He might not accept food from me here in my office, where he would feel as though he was on duty with one of the Family he served, but perhaps he would bend enough to eat down there.
Or maybe he just wanted to be gone. I studied him for a moment. There was a faint sheen of sweat on his forehead, more than just the warmth of the day and his ride from Summerdale would explain.
“Is the iron paining you?” I asked.
Hennin set his teeth. “I’m fine, my lady.”
I shook my head. “I’m a Master Healer. You’re not fine. Please sit. Take that as an order, if it makes it easier.”
He glared at me but sank into a chair. I nodded approval. “Good.” I came around to him and rested a hand on his shoulder. He twitched under the touch but didn’t pull away completely. I extended my powers and scanned him quickly. Sure enough, the sense of his own magic was subdued. Drained by the unfamiliar presence of so much iron.
“I can do something to help with that,” I said. “It’s only temporary but it will last until you’re back in Summerdale.”
I closed my eyes and wove the ward with the speed of familiarity. It wasn’t something I used regularly but often enough. It provided respite for new Fae healers when they first came to St. Giles, let them do their jobs while they adjusted to the City enough to be able to bear the iron with a certain degree of ease. My own tolerance to iron had strengthened over time, but there were parts of the City and the hospital that were harder to be in than others. The hidden wards below the hospital, for instance.
Hennin’s shoulder relaxed beneath my hand and I drew away, taking a moment to breathe and steady myself. Then I rang for tea. I needed it, even if Hennin was going to refuse to drink with me. That done, I seated myself before reaching for my father’s letter once more.
The wards yielded to the touch of my hand, recognizing my power and the presence of the Family ring on my finger, the combination working to unlock the protection my father had set.
I unfolded the paper and steeled myself for the refusal I expected.
Instead, to my shock and relief, it was an acceptance. Or a summons perhaps. I was to present myself with five companions suitable to represent the humans at the Gate in a day’s time.
I looked up at Hennin. “Do you know what this says?” I asked, curious as to whether the invitation came from my father or the court. If it was the court, then gossip should have spread by now and Hennin would know about it.
He shook his head. “No, my lady.”
That was direct enough. So he didn’t know. Which meant my father was inviting me and the humans on his own recognizance. It made me uneasy as to exactly what he was planning and what good it might do if we got to Summerdale and the court still would not hear us. With the Veiled Queen dead, no one could actually bar us from entering the Veiled World. It was what happened once we were there that was the worrying thing to contemplate.
• • •
“I’m coming with you.” Asharic loomed up beside me as I left the Templar conference room, the humans inside still discussing my news and trying to decide who they would send to accompany me.
“Two days ago you were doing your best to avoid returning to Summerdale,” I said. “Why do you want to go now?”
“Safety in numbers,” he said with a grin.
“You’re expecting my father to protect you?” I asked. “Trust me, he’s not a great believer in absence making the heart grow fonder.”
“I was thinking more of Guy and you,” he said.
“What makes you think that I’ll protect you?” I said.
“Right now you need me,” he said. “So you can’t let them bury me under a hill for half a century or turn me into a weasel. No me, no army.”
He had a point.
“Sounds to me like it would be more sensible for you to stay here. Why take the risk?”
“Well, for one thing, I’d like to know what your father is up to,” he said. “And I don’t think it’s wise for you to go with only human company either.”
“I’m sure Holly or Fen will be coming with us,” I said.
“They’re both hai-salai,” he said. “Powerful or not, they can’t stand against a Fae for you.”
True. And I didn’t think either of them would be keen to go back to Summerdale. They had both suffered there. Gained something too, but they’d both paid a price.
I wondered if I would have to pay too, to get what I wanted. The Fae without a ruler would be fractious and fractured and capricious. Getting them to pull in one direction would be harder than herding the City’s entire population of cats. Perhaps they’d already found a candidate for the Veil. Perhaps that was why Father had relented: he wanted me to be home for that.
I doubted things would be that simple, but I couldn’t argue with Ash’s logic. Two of us were better than one when it came to standing against the will of the court, sundered though it might be.
I shivered suddenly, wondering if it was crazy to go anywhere near Summerdale.
But there was no other choice if we wanted to have any chance at averting a war. And that was worth whatever price Summerdale might exact.
• • •
The Gate to the Veiled World was a tall marble tower that seemingly went up and up and up for hundreds of feet. I’d never been sur
e exactly how tall it was. It was entirely possible that it was only a few stories high and the rest of it was carefully shielded glamour to make it appear more imposing than it actually was. Glamour and misdirection are the lifeblood of the court, used to scheme and fool and gain advantage. The tower was a timely reminder of that.
I’d lived with human politics for thirty years and had followed, as much as possible, the goings-on in the Veiled World and, from time to time, returned for short periods, but it wasn’t the same as living there full-time. I hoped my old instincts would rise again, honed to sharpness by a childhood spent at my father’s knee, being drilled and inculcated with the ins and outs of court survival. Fae politics were ruthless and at times deadly.
And without a queen at the head of the Court to curb the worst of the excesses and impose suitable punishments on those who overstepped, it was going to be worse than usual.
I had spent much of the hours we’d had to prepare for the journey trying to impress that fact on my companions. Guy and Liam were here, representing the Templars and the sunmages. Simon was needed at St. Giles and to help power the sunlamps at the borders. The Guild had wanted to send another of their senior mages, but Liam had been to Summerdale before with me and I thought it would be easier to take someone the Fae were familiar with.
For that reason, I had also brought Robert Abernathy from the human council, Fen, and, still mostly against my will, Ash.
Fen had protested bitterly, claiming that he was persona non grata amongst the court. And that was true, but he was also the sole person from the City who’d recently spent time in the court prior to the queen dying.
Plus, he could see the future.
Both his knowledge of current court politics and his power might make the difference to us succeeding or failing. When he’d finally agreed to come, he’d tried to shoehorn Saskia DuCaine into our delegation as well, but he didn’t need her to control his power any longer, and with limited numbers I’d put my foot down, backed up by Guy, who was more than happy to have his little sister excluded from the trip.