by Melissa Marr
Just inside the gate, Barry stood. The steed was currently in the form of an actual horse. He was shadows made solid. Leaving without me was bad form.
The steed spoke in Devlin’s mind, but before he could answer, he realized that it was speaking to Ani.
I’m sorry, she answered. Her words to the steed were inside Devlin’s mind as well.
Other steeds waited in the shelter of the hazel trees.
I have called the Unclaimed for our New Hunt, Barry said.
We are here, Ani and Ani’s Partner. The steeds watched their approach, but none advanced.
Devlin answered aloud, “Welcome, Ani’s Steed and all.”
Barry laughed. I may grow to tolerate you. Get on with it, Devlin. They need to claim their riders.
Faeries had begun to gather, as if they had responded to a summons. Curiously, they watched the steeds, Devlin, Ani.
You will make a wonderful queen, Barry assured Ani. Worthy of being my rider. Worthy of beginning the Hunt that was lacking.
Ani’s words, to Barry and to Devlin, were confident. I just needed to find my pack.
“And we needed to find you,” Rae added with a smile, and Devlin realized that they all three could hear the mental conversation with the steed.
“Let’s do this.” Ani held out the sgian dubh she had used to cut her arm earlier. “Blood and breath.”
Devlin took the black-handled blade from Ani’s hand.
“With the hands that they made”—he cut a diagonal stripe in his right palm—“and the blood of Faerie…”
A chiming noise began to echo through Faerie.
Rae slipped into Ani’s body, so the breath they shed was hers as well.
“With the breath”—Rae and Ani took the blade—“of mortal and faery…”
“We close the veils between the worlds,” they all said.
“Closing this veil is as all veils,” Devlin whispered into the air. “So mote it be.”
For a moment, the world was still. Behind them, more faeries had gathered. The cries and murmurings swirled together in an emotional cocktail of fear and hope and wonder. He could feel them, not all of them, but those faeries that were meant to be a part of his court, the new court.
This is right. He felt a calm that he’d never known before. The world was in order. He had found the place he belonged.
He turned to Ani and saw a look of fury on her face. “Ani?”
She was looking past him though—at the faery who now held a knife to his throat.
Ani had raised her own blade in reply.
“What have you done?” Sorcha asked from behind him.
Ani snarled, “You do not threaten my king.”
The wolves around her growled in agreement, as did Barry.
“Your what?” Sorcha asked.
Devlin turned to face the High Queen. Her knife pressed against his throat as he moved, leaving a trailing cut there.
“Our king.” Rae moved so she stood to his right. Her hand, though not solid, appeared to rest on Devlin’s forearm.
“The King of Shadows.” His gaze was only on Sorcha, but Devlin spoke loudly enough that the assembled faeries could all hear. “The king to balance the High Queen in Faerie. Faerie was never meant to be ruled by only one court. Our faeries were not meant to have only one choice.”
“You cannot.” Sorcha stared at him. She lowered her knife. “Brother… Devlin…”
Seth came behind her and put a supporting arm around her. He did not speak, but the expression on his face was not one of surprise. He’d known what was coming long before Devlin had.
“I am neither son nor brother to you, Sorcha. I am that which stands as your opposite within Faerie. I am that which balances your court.” Devlin spoke softly, wishing he could say the words to his queen-no-more in private, but she had removed that option by appearing here with her knife to his throat. He clung to the hope that she would see the rightness of his actions. “Bananach cannot come here. She cannot touch you, your son, or the faeries of your court or mine.”
Sorcha stared at him. Her expression shifted to a familiar one of objective observation as she felt the change within Faerie, as she became more herself again. Devlin hoped that she understood: what he did, he did to balance her; what he did, he did to keep his sisters from killing each other; what he did was the right answer for all of them.
This was the inevitable next step for them all. Every emotion he’d repressed for all of the long millennia behind him felt like it was rising up inside of him. His would be a court of passions, of emotions, of the very things that he’d fought to hide.
As such, he didn’t hide his relief or his sorrow as he told the faeries, “To prevent Bananach from coming here, our worlds are divided. None among you can cross the veil to the mortal world without the aid of both the Shadow Court and the High Court.”
Sorcha’s spine was stiff; the emotional instability she’d been falling prey to of late was no longer present in her visage or her posture. She nodded at him, and then turned away.
“Those of you who belong not to me, who would choose the… Shadow Court, know that I understand your actions. They are—as this was—inevitable,” she told them.
Then with a regal air that had been missing since the day Seth had left Sorcha to return to the mortal world, the High Queen turned her gaze to her son. “My advisor and heir, my son, your prince, will be liaison to the Shadow Court.”
With not another word, Sorcha left, attendants and many faeries in tow.
But not all.
In front of Devlin, Ani, and Rae were faeries, several score, who looked to them expectantly.
This is ours. Our world.
A twinge of grief washed over him that he’d lost both of his mother-sisters. To keep them safe from one another—to keep everyone safe from the conflict between the twins— he’d betrayed both of his mother-sisters.
“This has always been the next step,” Rae whispered.
“It’s the right choice,” Ani agreed. “You know that.”
Devlin nodded, and together they crossed the expanse of Faerie.
As they walked, new vistas sprang into existence, filling in voids that were meant to be something more but hadn’t had the chance.
Until now.
EPILOGUE
Devlin stared through the veil. He raised one hand to touch the tenuous fabric that divided the two worlds, that divided the twins.
“Have you thought about the consequences?” Seth asked.
Devlin turned to face his brother, his replacement in the High Court.
“For them”—Seth gestured to the other side of the gate— “now that Faerie is closed?”
“They are not my concern.” Devlin let his hand drop, putting his sgian dubh in easy reach. “The good of Faerie is my concern.”
“I’m not here to fight you, Brother.” Seth held his hands up disarmingly. “I will fight Bananach though.”
“And if Bananach’s death still kills your mother? Why should I let you cross over there, knowing that it could bring disaster on us?”
Seth looked away, almost quickly enough to hide the fear in his gaze, but it was only a flash. He smiled then. “You cannot keep me here. The terms of her remaking me were that I can return to the mortal world. Even you cannot negate her vow.”
“If they came home, if the other courts returned here…” Devlin had thought of it, all of Faerie returned home once more, away from the mortal world, no longer divided into factions and seasonal courts.
Seth laughed. “Do you think that Keenan would give up the Summer Court? That Donia would give up her court? That Niall would become a subject to you or to our mother? Pipe dreams, man.”
“They would be safe here now that Bananach cannot enter.”
Seth shrugged. “Some things are worth more than safety.”
“I cannot speak of what would happen to our… to your queen if you died.” Devlin stared through the veil, wishing that he had the ability to
see the future in the mortal world. “I would come with you, but protecting Faerie comes first. I cannot risk Faerie for the mortal world.”
“And I can’t abandon Ash or Niall.”
Devlin paused. “Tell me what you see.”
“Nothing. Over here, I’m mortal. I see nothing until I go back….” Seth bit his lip ring, rolling the ball of it into his mouth as he weighed his thoughts. “I don’t see anything, but I’m worried…. Ash is dealing with her court alone. Sorcha was to balance Niall, but now you balance her. What will that mean for him? Irial was stabbed. Gabe was outnumbered. Bananach is murderous and only getting stronger…. Nothing there makes me think everything is going to be all right.”
They stood silently staring through the veil. “When you are ready…”
Seth stared at him for a moment. “If… you know… I die, she’ll need you. She doesn’t like admitting it, but she will.”
Devlin put his hand on the veil; Seth did the same. Together, they pushed their fingers through the fabric and parted it.
Devlin put a hand on Seth’s forearm. “It will not open for you to return unless you call to me to be here also.”
“I know.” Seth stepped into the mortal world, leaving Faerie.
Devlin thought about their recent reentry to Faerie, about fleeing while he was injured, about the danger of Faerie being locked to the other regents and to Seth. He looked through the veil at Seth’s departing figure and said, “Try not to die, Brother.”
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Anne Hoppe continues to be my champion and my nemesis. For both things, I am grateful. Without having Anne battling for us and with me, these books would be lesser things.
Creating a book is not done alone. So many wonderful folks at Harper take care of my books (and me), and although I don’t get to know all of you, I am grateful for your work. That said, special gratitude must go to those of you who have the task of putting up with me: publicist extraordinaire Melissa Bruno, subrights angel Jean McGinley, marketing wisewoman Suzanne Daghlian, art goddess Alison Donalty, and the all-seeing Susan Katz.
Thanks to my readers, especially those of you (Meggie, Maria, Phe, Tiger, Meg, Tegan, Aine, Karen, Ashley, and all the rest) who joined me not only at events but also for evening walks, aquarium outings, or meals while I was on tour. It means a lot to me that you all are willing to share your time with me in person, online, and in letters.
Many thanks to: Mark Tucker for finding the model who is Ani; Jen Barnes, Rachel Vincent, Jeaniene Frost, and Asia for reading; Merrilee Heifetz for exceeding my expectations so often; Jeaniene for the title; Susan for insights, especially the very valuable mantra “protect the work” and Neil for sensory tours and wisdom.
A very special thank-you goes to Fazi Editore for bringing me to meet my Italian readers. Elido Fazi, Pamela Ruffo, Maria Galeano, and Cristina Marino not only took care of my family and of me, but also they enabled me to fall hopelessly in love with Rome. Thank you.
My oddest thank-you, perhaps, goes to a few people who will never see these words, but without whom I couldn’t have written any of the Wicked Lovely books. I can’t write without music, so each book has a set of songs I listen to over and over. For this book, thanks go to Ani DiFranco (yes, my Ani is named for her), She Wants Revenge, and The Kills. However, for all of the books I’ve written, gratitude goes to Marilyn Manson, Maynard James Keenan, Damien Rice, and Tori Amos. Their art inspires me.
As always, thanks to my parents, my children, and my spouse. My world would crumble without you.
Also by Melissa Marr
Wicked Lovely
Ink Exchange
Fragile Eternity
Credits
Jacket photo © 2010 Mark Tucker/MergeLeft Reps, Inc.
Jacket design by Alison Klapthor
Copyright
RADIANT SHADOWS. Copyright © 2010 by Melissa Marr. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available.
ISBN 978-0-06-165922-5 (trade bdg.)
ISBN 978-0-06-165923-2 (lib. bdg.)
ISBN 978-0-06-199484-5 (international edition)
EPub Edition © March 2010 ISBN: 978-0-06-199201-8
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