Fire Kin

by M. J. Scott

“I see,” Simon said.

  “What about Fen?” Holly asked. “Did he see anything?” Of all of us, she looked the most tired. Almost as pale as Adeline and she’d lost weight again. I made a note to spend a little time with her as soon as possible. She had taken Reggie’s death very hard, and though she seemed to be improving, I didn’t like the strain I still sensed in her.

  “They’d taken moon’s blood. Not making much sense. They need time for it to clear their systems. So he’s going to wait until later to try to see more.”

  “Fen could see even if they were unconscious, couldn’t he?” Lily said, frowning.

  “He wanted to wait.” I didn’t want to explain that he’d seemed to be the worst affected by what I had done. Almost as though he could sense the mental trauma I was inflicting with the pain.

  He’d left almost as soon as the last of the three Beasts were locked in the cell, looking almost as ill as I felt.

  “So nothing has changed, really,” Adeline said.

  “No. But afterward, Captain Pellar was asking about the tunnels. About what’s down here.”

  “Did you put him off?” Simon asked.

  “For now. But he’s right to ask. If he’s to help defend the city, then he needs to know what he’s defending.”

  “Do you think we should tell him?” Holly asked.

  “Yes.” If only to stop him driving me insane whilst trying to find out on his own what was down here.

  “Do you trust him?” Atherton said suddenly.

  I hesitated. I didn’t want to answer too quickly. That would reveal too much about the feelings I was trying to deny. “Yes,” I said. “I’ve never known him not to keep his word when he’s given it.”

  “People change,” Atherton said.

  “Guy trusts him too,” Simon said. “We need to trust Guy and Bryony’s judgment.”

  Holly nodded, her expression frustrated. It was hard on her these days. Before Ignatius had drawn his battle lines, she had been able to find information for us. But now she was cut off from her networks and the opportunities afforded in the border boroughs’ taverns and theater halls for the gathering of intelligence. Now she had to wait, unable to go roaming freely through the night like Lily. And Holly wasn’t the sort of woman who took waiting on the sidelines well.

  “So, do we agree? That Bryony should tell the captain what’s going on down here?” Lily asked.

  Adeline pursed her lips. “I think we should take care. You may trust Captain Pellar, but he’s not just one man. He brings an entire army with him.”

  “An army loyal to him,” I said. And how had I worked myself into the position of now defending Ash to them? “An army who are mostly human and have no reason whatsoever to want to help the Blood. Some of them might even be from here.” I realized I had little idea about Ash’s men. I’d been too busy with my own issues to take the time to ask him about them yet. Or ask him anything much about his time away from the City. Did I truly not want to know? Or was asking admitting to myself that I was curious?

  “A mercenary,” Adeline said. When I shot her a look she twisted a hand in an elegant palm-up gesture. “I am merely pointing out the reality. I have nothing against your Captain Pellar.”

  “Not my Captain Pellar,” I said automatically. Adeline merely smiled at that. Whereas Holly and Lily looked too interested, sharing a curious look at our exchange. Damn. Did they know about last night? Had someone seen Ash come to my rooms? Or seen him leave? I didn’t remember passing anyone as we’d arrived there, but I hadn’t been with him when he left so precipitously.

  Anyone could have seen him. And put two and two together. As Holly and Lily were apparently beginning to do. I wondered if they would come right out and ask me. Lily might. She didn’t care much for social niceties.

  “I doubt any man would remain long under his command if he wasn’t loyal,” Simon said. “That’s a quick way for a mercenary troop to implode.”

  And Ash wasn’t the sort to take disregard to his authority lightly. He acted casual and free-spirited when it suited him, but underneath the frivolity he’d always taken any responsibilities he accepted seriously. It was that damned attitude that had led to him taking part in the duel in the first place. He had decided that he needed to face Stellan’s challenge, and there was no way he would back down from that decision once he’d made it.

  I was sure that he ran his army with suitable discipline and would weed out any true malcontents. From what I’d seen of his men so far, they were well presented and competent. Plus, they hadn’t caused any trouble in the City—none of them had turned up at St. Giles after a drunken brawl or such—which spoke well of their training.

  “So we will show him the tunnels and this ward. When?” I asked. Part of me rankled at the thought. Ash would take this as a sign that he had been right all along.

  He would tease me about it. And bantering, witty Ash was when he was always at his most charming and most appealing. I wanted surly, cranky Ash. Far easier to resist.

  Simon looked down at the notebook he carried. “It makes little difference. Perhaps later today? Both of you have been up all night and from what Lily tells us, it was eventful up there. Take some time to rest, then bring him later.”

  “Any progress?” It was my daily question and today, as usual, I got a shake of the head.

  “We’re still at an impasse,” Atherton said. “We can rouse them from the stupor mostly—but not all of them. And there’s still no one close to full recovery.”

  Across from him, pain flickered over Holly’s face. She had lost a friend to blood-locking and Ignatius’ machinations. Just as Simon had lost a sister, years before. It did Holly credit that she still spent time down here every day helping Atherton and Simon when every moment must remind her of Regina.

  But she insisted. With most of her links into the Night World and the border boroughs cut off by the curfews and current events—not to mention Guy doing his best impression of a man about to explode when Holly had suggested that she could try to reopen some avenues of communication and putting his foot down so thoroughly I was still surprised there wasn’t a dent in the granite floor of the Templar conference room where she’d made the suggestion—her abilities as a spy were not much use to her now. And she’d closed her modiste salon in Gillygate—which had been the cover to explain away the money she’d made spying—after Reggie’s death, so she didn’t even have that to occupy her.

  Reggie had been her partner, and the genius seamstress who’d translated Holly’s dress designs in the business. Holly had said she didn’t have the heart to look for another seamstress even though her customers amongst the humans were still anxious to secure her services.

  I had one dress that Reggie had made for me, a gift in the early days when Holly and Guy had first gotten together. It was beautiful. Made of glorious silk a shade or two darker than my eyes and fitting like a glove, even though Reggie hadn’t taken my measurements. I’d not yet had an occasion to wear it. There had been no more treaty balls after what had happened at the negotiations, and it was a distinctly human gown, not really suitable for Summerdale even if I’d been inclined to spend time there.

  “I’ll bring Ash this afternoon, then,” I said, then kicked myself again for the slip of the tongue that I had let myself call him Ash in front of them rather than Captain Pellar. Adeline’s mouth quirked and Holly’s expression turned speculative.

  I turned to go before they could interrogate me and Simon followed me into the outer room.

  “Are you well?” he asked as I started to pull on my gloves again. “You look . . .”

  “The interrogation wasn’t pleasant. But I will be all right with some sleep and tea.” And a long, hot bath to wash the memories of pain off my skin.

  He came closer. “May I?”

  I nodded. The truth was I was still feeling queasy and if Simon could take that away, then all the better. I would be able to get more done today if I was feeling well.

  Simon put hi
s hand on my wrist, about the edge of the glove, and closed his eyes. After a moment I felt the warmth of his power flow through me, making me feel as though I were temporarily bathed in sunlight. Tension ran out of my back and shoulders and I heard myself sigh as the knots in my stomach eased as well, the sour taste retreating from my mouth.

  “Thank you,” I said when he let go of me.

  He smiled. “You should have asked. And if there are any more interrogations, you should let me help.”

  I smiled back. “No. You have enough to do down here. Don’t worry about me. I’m tougher than I look.”

  “I’m well aware of that,” he said. “But you can run yourself ragged just like anybody else. So make sure you take time to rest. Let yourself find some comfort occasionally . . . whatever form that may take.”

  Damn. So the women weren’t the only ones who were curious about Ash. Simon’s face was earnest, but his eyes showed amusement.

  “Taking comfort isn’t always simple.”

  “I know,” Simon agreed. “And he’s been gone a long time.”

  I made a frustrated gesture. “A long time by human standards. But not by mine.”

  “Is that a problem?”

  “Maybe. I wish I knew. Sometimes it feels like I’d forgotten him and that it was the right thing to do. And sometimes it feels like barely yesterday and everything is . . .”

  “Unresolved?”

  “That’s close enough.”

  “Sometimes you just have to accept the unexpected.” He smiled suddenly. “Sometimes the unexpected can be better than anything we could have dreamed of.”

  “We can’t all be you and Lily,” I said. I fussed with a wrinkle in my sleeve, uncomfortable with the direction of this conversation.

  “Really?” Simon said. “Why not?”

  ASH

  When Bryony vanished, it felt as if she had punched me in the stomach. There could be no clearer sign that she didn’t want my company or whatever comfort I hoped to offer her. In fact, she wanted it so little she was determined to make sure I couldn’t follow her.

  I could sense the charm she was using and sense her magic as it retreated from me. But if she wanted to be alone badly enough to use an invisibility charm, then I was going to let her be, no matter how much I chafed at my inability to make her feel better. She lingered for a moment at the wall between the hospital and the Brother House, and hope flared, though I set my jaw and clenched my teeth in my determination not to let it show. But then she continued on her way.

  I followed the fading sense of her for a while and then decided that it was pointless to drive myself insane and that perhaps it was time to seek my own bed and try again when we were both more rested.

  But it wasn’t to be. As I made way back into the main Templar building, Fen found me.

  He had been uncomfortable down in the cells, that had been plain, but he’d stood his ground, which impressed me. The first time I’d witnessed a battlefield interrogation, it was under the tutelage of an employer who wasn’t as compassionate as Bryony. He’d had no compunction slicing bits off his chosen victim until the man had shrieked and sobbed and begged for release while spilling everything he’d ever known about anything.

  I’d left that tent and found the nearest private spot and thrown up for about an hour.

  I’d tried to limit such practices amongst my own men. As Bryony had demonstrated, there are other ways to extract information, and although she’d had to resort to pain in the end, she had avoided damaging the Beasts, for which I—and I imagined Fen—had been grateful.

  “Captain Pellar,” Fen said as he stepped into my path. “Can we talk?”

  I studied him for a moment. The haze of power that surrounded him was unlike any I’d felt before. Fae seers trail power like mist, tiny tendrils that drift through the room and entwine with the threads that others leave behind.

  But Fen was nothing like mist. His power was more like a cloud—or an atmosphere. Something close to the thundercloud sense that I got from Bryony when she was angry, a presence that pushed outward from him and made the air crackle. Almost luminous. It didn’t feel strictly like Fae power, which made sense, given that he was only partly Fae. But it was obvious that he was someone to be reckoned with. I didn’t know what other skills he might have, but his powers of foretelling—if that was what fueled the signals I was picking up—were clearly formidable.

  “About the interrogation?” I asked, slightly wary. Seers are uncanny at the best of times. Knowing the future is a chancy business and one that wise men avoid.

  “About several things,” Fen said. He nodded his head toward the outer doors. “Perhaps we can walk? I, for one, could use some fresh air.”

  I had no argument with that. Some earth beneath my feet would do me good. “Can we go toward the hospital?”

  One side of his mouth quirked, the green jewel in his ear glinting in the light as his head tilted.

  “There’s less iron there,” I explained. “It’s more comfortable. And the gardens should be empty, so there’s privacy as well.”

  He nodded. “As you wish.”

  We took a different path from the one that Bryony had used. We came out near the east side of the hospital where one of the buildings stood surrounded by scaffolding and several bands of workmen swarming over its walls, repairing what looked like damage from a fire.

  Fen glanced up at it, and his mouth flattened. Then he turned his head away and led me farther still into a side garden shaded by tall oaks at either end.

  I’d been right about needing to be outside. Under the trees, some of my fatigue disappeared.

  Fen stayed silent as we walked the length of the garden, but as we neared the wall that surrounded the hospital, stepping into the shade of the oaks there, he began to mutter something under his breath.

  I halted. “Problem?”

  He stopped beside a tree, pressed a hand to its bark. I wondered if he drew strength from the earth like a Fae. Or whether he was just pausing while he decided what he wanted to say.

  “I wanted to tell you something about what I saw,” he said. “Back there in the cells.”

  “I thought you hadn’t really seen anything,” I said, somewhat confused. “That you were going to try again.”

  “Not about the Beasts. About you.”

  I froze. “Don’t you need to touch someone to see his future?”

  Fen shook his head. “No. It helps if I want to see something very specific to that person, but I get glimpses around most people all the time.”

  I pulled a face. “That sounds unpleasant.”

  “It used to be. I used to drink a lot of brandy to avoid exactly that.”

  “And now?”

  “Now I have control. I can choose when I want to see. Most of the time. Your queen granted me that gift when she . . . healed me.”

  The queen had healed him? That, I needed to hear more about. She’d never been one for going out of her way to help out the hai-salai. For her to step in for Fen meant what he could do was valuable indeed, but right now I was more interested in what he’d actually seen. “What does most of the time mean?”

  “Sometimes I still see things involuntarily. When there’s someone with an especially strong destiny or if he’s in the middle of important events.”

  “That could be anyone in the cells last night. What’s happening right now meets the very definition of important events.”

  “Yes,” Fen agreed. “Which makes it even more interesting that it was only you that I saw.”

  I didn’t think that “interesting” was the word. “Appalling” might be closer. “What exactly did you see?”

  “Several things. You with Ignatius Grey. You with a bunch of Fae who didn’t look overly happy. A dagger. Fire. Lots of fire. And arrows.” He frowned. “And a feeling of . . . danger. There are people who want you dead, I think.”

  “That’s nothing new.”

  “This felt . . . immediate,” Fen said.

 
; “And do the things you see always come true?”

  His expression turned unhappy. “No. But when I see something often enough, then the likelihood seems to rise. I saw arrows and fire around you the day you arrived, but I assumed that was just because you’re a soldier.”

  “Maybe it is. I’ve been in plenty of battles in my time.”

  “That doesn’t explain Ignatius or the Fae.”

  “There are those in the Fae Court who aren’t keen on my return. Those who still want vengeance for the things that happened a long time ago.”

  “Guy hasn’t told me what did happen. But I think I got a glimpse of that too. You killed someone? In a duel?”

  A cool chill quivered down my spine. Strong indeed, this one. “Yes,” I said shortly. “He tried to kill me. He failed.”

  “Or you succeeded.”

  “I was defending myself. I’d rather I hadn’t killed him, but he left me no choice. My life would have been very different if I hadn’t.” Or much shorter.

  “Maybe it was meant to be.”

  “Do you believe in fate? That the Lady sets a path for you and that you can’t step off?” I asked, curious to hear what a hai-salai thought about it. It was a subject that I had thought about a lot when I’d been first exiled. Whether my banishment was meant to be. But then I’d decided that I didn’t care what the Lady thought and that if I was going to make a life for myself, it would be one that I enjoyed. And was profitable. Soon after that I’d joined a mercenary troop and the rest was a story already written.

  Fen shrugged. “I believe that sometimes certain people are meant to do certain things. Otherwise what I see wouldn’t come true. I also believe that most of the time you can move away from a destiny, if you want to. Some would say that Saskia was destined to marry a rich human and bear a bunch of children to carry on his name, and yet here she is, with me. And no one would have predicted that Lily would break free of Lucius and find a new life for herself. I believe in both fate and free will, I guess.”

  “Then it matters what we choose to do?”

  “Yes. For some, those choices will be the right ones to lead them to where they are supposed to be. For others, well, choosing to do good is always better than the alternative, isn’t it?”