by Jocelyn Fox
“My Queen,” said Liam to Vell with a small bow from the waist. Vell nodded to him, and Tess resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Vell and Liam still played their roles flawlessly in public, never a glance or word straying beyond the expected boundaries between a Queen and one of her Three. Tess didn’t know who exactly was within the trusted circle that understood the true relationship between the Vyldretning and the newest member of her Court, but she guessed that Gray knew from the laughter dancing in the Sidhe woman’s vibrant eyes. She wondered briefly how much was shared through the bond with the Three, and then she shook her head, clearing it of the thought.
Her hand found the hilt of the Sword and she rubbed two fingers along the crossguard absently. Her brother had adapted well to this new world, blending in almost seamlessly now. Then again that was part of his training, adapting to survive, learning quickly and correcting mistakes. His experience in the mortal world had served him well. And there was the fact that he had an echo of Arcana in his head. Tess hadn’t mustered the courage to ask him about that yet. She didn’t want to waste what little time she was able to spend with her brother delving into sensitive subjects. There was more than enough of that to go around already.
Finnead emerged from the shadows a bit farther down the hallway, falling into step beside Gray without a word. Tess glanced at him and felt a little twinge of empathy. He looked paler than usual, his eyes distant and his raven-dark hair slightly unkempt. She’d heard that he spent more than half his waking hours over in the Unseelie portion of the City. Other than their healers taking shifts in the healing ward, the Unseelie had withdrawn into their own encampment –even the healers kept to themselves, tending only the most gravely wounded Unseelie fighters that still could not be moved to the convalescent ward in the Unseelie camp. Tess resisted the urge to reach out and touch his shoulder. He looked so…alone. The Sword stirred.
He is no more alone than before the battle, the Caedbranr said in her head.
Oh, so we’re back to providing commentary on my thoughts? Tess asked silently, raising one eyebrow. Liam and Gray were discussing something as they walked, but she couldn’t focus on both conversations.
You have seen and done much more than many Bearers past, replied the Sword in its androgynous layered voice, but you are still young.
And so you’re my sage guardian, making sure that I don’t relapse into an infatuation with Finnead? she retorted.
The Sword’s silent chuckle vibrated through her ribs and down her spine. She shivered a little, half in annoyance, but realizing once again that she’d missed the feeling of the Caedbranr’s amusement rolling through her bones.
Empathy in the face of tragedy can sometimes relight the embers of a past romance, the Sword told her.
Tess couldn’t help the snort that escaped her. Liam looked over at her questioningly but Vell murmured to him and he just smiled and shook his head.
So you’re an expert on romance now, are you? Seen much of that, being a Sword and all? Tess pressed her lips together to keep from laughing at her own sarcasm.
You are being impertinent, said the Sword, managing somehow to sound haughtily offended, like a very proper schoolmarm who’d just heard a dirty joke.
Indeed I am, she replied with a grin. The Sword grumbled something she couldn’t quite make out – how exactly did that work, not being able to hear something that was in her own mind? But in any case, it circled and settled again in her chest, its voice falling silent.
“Enjoying the conversation that none of the rest of us can hear?” Liam asked, falling into step beside her.
“Oh, yes, I love it when inanimate objects give me unsolicited advice,” said Tess with a smile. Finnead, she noticed, hadn’t so much as looked at her during the traverse down the long passageways of the tent palace. He kept his eyes fixed straight ahead, his face smooth, his eyes distant.
“I hear that’s the best kind of advice,” her brother said. “The unsolicited kind, not the kind from inanimate objects. And besides, does the Sword count as inanimate? I think that’s a gray area.”
Tess shrugged. “It can’t get up and walk away. It was stuck in a tree for a couple of centuries and I had to go fetch it. I think that meets the definition of inanimate.” The Sword thrummed in protest at her flippant description of the quest that had nearly killed her after she’d first tumbled into the Fae world and landed in the web of intrigue and danger that was Queen Mab’s Court. She looked at Liam. “How are you? I haven’t seen you in a couple of days.”
“I’ve been busy with the reconstruction teams,” he replied.
“And busy with…other things,” Tess guessed, raising her eyebrows lasciviously.
“Vell warned me that you were still a little weirded out by the whole thing, and here you are making jokes about it.” Liam narrowed his eyes at her.
“I’m your little sister. I get to tease you about your love life. But I do not want to know details.”
Liam chuckled. “That I can deal with.” He slowed their pace slightly so that they fell behind Vell, Finnead and Gray. “Are you ready for this council?”
Tess shrugged, although a little thrill of anticipation coursed through her at the thought of going head to head with Mab again. “As ready as I’ll ever be. It isn’t my first rodeo.”
“Well, it’s mine,” he said in a low voice. “I only know Titania and Mab from seeing them at a distance and then in the Dark Keep.”
“Titania has always been gracious to me,” she said. “That might be because I rescued her, but...” She shrugged. “Mab, on the other hand, doesn’t like anyone who doesn’t serve her purposes.”
“You’re trying to strike a deal with her,” said Liam.
“Yes. A trade of sorts.”
Liam drew in a breath. “And that trade is going to send you diving into danger again, isn’t it?”
Tess smiled slightly. “Is this the obligatory ‘protective older brother’ talk?”
“I’d prefer you didn’t mock my concern for your safety,” said Liam.
“Pot, meet kettle,” countered Tess.
He sighed and nodded to a pair of passing Wild Court fighters that Tess vaguely recognized. “If we open a Gate to our world again, what will that mean?”
“In what sense?” Tess asked carefully, glancing at her brother.
“None of us can go back to our old lives. My team was probably declared dead, killed in action in that firefight when Malravenar’s creatures tried to kidnap me.” Liam said the words calmly, as though he were discussing the weather. “You disappeared almost two years ago. Once I knew you were safe, I…I convinced everyone that you’d just wanted to try things your way. Live your own life.”
“I guess that’s mostly true, if you count being dragged into Queen Mab’s Court and being bound to an ancient weapon of power ‘living my own life.’” Tess raised her eyebrows. Part of her wanted to ask whether their mother had so easily accepted that her daughter had just…disappeared. Did she really matter so little that she could vanish without a trace and people would just shrug after a while?
“I think there’s some sort of…reaction, when someone is pulled through a Gate,” said Liam. “I know you’re wondering why everyone would just accept it. It seemed strange to me too, almost too easy. So I think that something happens when a mortal goes through into Faeortalam.”
“Most of the Sidhe in Vell’s Court are too young to have experienced travel between the worlds,” Tess murmured, almost to herself.
“If there is some sort of…forgetting, on a cosmic scale, that happens when a mortal travels through the Gate, what happens when you go back? Is there any blowback?”
“We’re talking metaphysical blowback here?” Tess took a deep breath. “I have absolutely no idea. I feel like I’m still figuring out how I fit into everything here.”
“That’s what worries me. Not the fact that you don’t know, Tess, but that someone might, and they might not be forthcoming,” Liam said.
&n
bsp; “If Mab knows,” Tess said slowly, “Titania must as well. They must have had some sort of procedure to deal with it back when the Great Gate was open and they…invited…mortals into their Courts. But we’re assuming that there is some kind of metaphysical exchange. Maybe a Gate is just a Gate, like a door that gets you from one room to another.” She shrugged slightly. “We might be manufacturing worry, if we just let ourselves imagine everything that could go wrong.”
“I just don’t want you to rush into this.” Liam touched her shoulder lightly. “I can’t go with you.”
“I know.” Tess nodded as they emerged from the great doors of the palace.
A flat sheet of gray clouds pressed down on the city, muting the morning sunlight. Vell looked up balefully at the dark sky but said nothing, striding onward without a word with Finnead and Gray on either side of her.
“I’ve already been doing research,” continued Tess. “Mostly into the precautions that Sidhe take when they go through a portal. But we can’t delay much longer. Luca and Merrick might not have much time. We don’t know if they were wounded before they were pulled through, and having Kianryk on this side and Luca on the other…” She swallowed hard. “Vell said that it will kill them eventually.”
This time when Liam touched her shoulder, it was a brotherly squeeze of support. “She told me as much. She’s worried too, you know.”
“I do. Without her, this all falls apart. I don’t think I would be able to convince the Sidhe Queens to open a Gate on my own.” The Sword stirred a little at that statement. Tess kept walking but frowned slightly, cataloguing that small movement. Was the Sword trying to keep itself from telling her that she could open a Gate? She brushed the idea aside. She’d already discussed that with Vell. There was no record of any Bearer opening a Gate, and it was arrogant to assume that just because she was the Bearer, she could solve everything. Maybe the Sword just disagreed with her thought that she wasn’t powerful enough to convince the Queens on her own.
After a few moments more of walking, they reached the site of the council. The Glasidhe messengers had flown missives for two days straight during the negotiations for the location of the meeting. In the end, the Queens had settled upon a pavilion nearly equidistant from the Seelie, Unseelie, and Wild Court camps. Despite the destruction wreaked on the city by Malravenar’s creatures and the damage inflicted during the battle, the pavilion stood in a small courtyard, four paths – one at each point of the compass – winding away from it into the streets of the city. The stone shone whitely even in the pale light struggling through the thick layer of clouds. Banners emblazoned with the wolf of the Vyldgard, the sun of the Seelie Court and the moon of the Unseelie Court hung from the roof of the pavilion between the pillars, rippling gently in the light breeze. Between the banners, long diaphanous curtains draped from the ceiling to floor, creating an airy semblance of privacy for the council.
Vell strode without hesitation up the small flight of marble steps that led to the pavilion. The air undulated as she crossed the threshold of the pillars. Tess set her teeth and endured the feel of small hands sweeping over her yet again, though this was a lighter touch than the door of Vell’s chambers.
The floor of the pavilion looked almost like a mirror, but its silvery surface didn’t reflect anything. Rather, it looked like the surface of a pond or the ocean, traces of blue waves rolling through the silver, bracelets of foam encircling the legs of the chairs placed around the circular table in the center of the room. Tess resisted the urge to touch the illusion. And rather than taebramh lights, as Tess had expected, the domed ceiling of the pavilion emitted a soft light that she would have sworn was natural sunlight.
Titania sat at the circular table, magnificent in a cerulean gown. The simplicity of the gown and the richness of its color complemented her ethereal beauty. Miniature white roses adorned her intricate braid, and a white-gold circlet gleamed against the ripe wheat of her hair. The Seelie Queen stood when Vell entered, gliding around the table and extending her hands to the High Queen. Vell took Titania’s hands and smiled, though it was the smile of the High Queen playing her part. Finnead, Gray and Liam greeted Queen Titania’s Three, each clasping the hands of their counterparts in the Seelie Court. Tess stood a pace behind Vell, feeling slightly awkward and wishing that she had Farin or Wisp on her shoulder, whispering into her ear. Should she go greet Titania’s Three, or wait until the two Queens were finished with their conversation? She’d met Niall, Ailin and Gawain at the Hall of the Outer Guard, so they weren’t strangers…but she wasn’t one of Vell’s Three. She was the Bearer of the Iron Sword.
Fortunately, her dilemma only lasted for another minute, as Vell nodded to Titania and moved to greet the Seelie Three. The beautiful Sidhe Queen turned to Tess, her golden radiance more pronounced than Tess remembered.
“Lady Bearer,” said Titania with that familiar sisterly smile. Tess remembered the shining warrior Queen who had sliced through the enemy in the Dark Keep, a beacon of vengeance in the battle. Had Mab once been able to slide between faces as easily as Titania? Her own thoughts startled her and she pushed the musings away, placing her hands in Titania’s, feeling a familiar, warm glow as her skin touched that of the Seelie Queen.
“Queen Titania,” Tess said, trying to match the Queen’s smile.
“I have been told that you took no lasting scars from the great battle,” Titania said, motherly concern lacing her voice.
“No visible ones, at least,” Tess replied with a tight smile. “I wish I could say the same for all of our warriors.”
Titania nodded. “As do I. But loss is the price of victory over the darkness.”
Tess noticed that Titania wore a small golden pouch at her belt, and she felt the river stone within her own belt pouch tremble suddenly. She took a breath and bit back the reply that rose readily to her lips. Luca was not a price to be paid for victory. He was the man she loved. And she had loved as friends many others who died. Perhaps Titania’s heart was just as cold as Mab’s after all. Tess steadied herself before she spoke. “Vell has told me that you will support us in opening the Gate.”
“I can see why you and she are such friends,” said Titania, her blue eyes glimmering. “You have the same affinity for bluntness.”
“I suppose you could say that.” Tess drew back slightly, touching the river stone through the well-worn leather of her belt pouch.
“The river stones react to their nearness to each other,” Titania said. “But a fractured spirit is not conscious, so you need not worry about that.”
Tess wondered how Titania could be so sure. “It’s still a bit strange to me.”
Titania didn’t reply, studying Tess’s face. “I will support you in opening the Gate, Lady Bearer…because we are friends, are we not?” She smiled brilliantly.
The question caught Tess off guard. She blinked. The Sword stirred at her hip, the emerald in its pommel pulsing with a soft light as it awakened. Careful, whispered the Caedbranr in her mind, its voice so quiet that Tess couldn’t be sure it had spoken at all. Tess forced herself to smooth her face of any surprise and ensured that an answering smile curved her lips. “I hope that the Bearer of the Iron Sword is counted as a friend to all three Queens and their Courts,” she said in what she hoped was a gracious voice.
Something flashed in Titania’s eyes, just for an instant. “Well said, Lady Bearer.”
Tess inclined her head to the Seelie Queen, and Titania turned away from her, leaving her with the distinct feeling that she’d just missed something important. But then she turned to the Seelie Three, who greeted her with grace and courtesy. Ailin wore a sling on his right arm, a lingering wound from the battle in the courtyard of the Dark Keep; Niall and Gawain seemed whole, though Gawain walked stiffly and Niall seemed more withdrawn than Tess remembered from their first meeting. Titania’s Three had nearly died in Brightvale, giving their life force to sustain their Queen while Malravenar had kept her Walker form captive. When Tess freed Titania,
her Three were freed as well, though the strain had washed them of their golden Seelie coloring and given them ghost-pale eyes.
As Tess watched Vell and Titania move toward the table in the center of the pavilion, Gwyneth’s pendant warmed at her throat. She took a deep breath and braced herself slightly as the edges of her sight faded and the Sword showed her the vision, the tall woman dressed in a flowing scarlet gown, standing before what looked like the intricately carved frame of a mirror. A wind seemed to emanate from the mirror, frothing the woman’s skirt into waves. The woman didn’t carry any weapons that Tess could see. Tess wished the Sword would show her the woman’s face – her golden hair could have marked her as Seelie, but Tess felt a pang of familiarity at the wavy texture of the woman’s hair, the way it fell over the woman’s shoulders in half-curls, tendrils with a mind of their own.
Was the woman a Bearer? She couldn’t see the Sword, if she was. And from Tess’s vantage point, looking over the woman’s shoulder into the strange mirror, she saw a strikingly modern mortal scene: a cobbled street in some historic city, the buildings speaking of early colonial times but the cars parked along the side of the street firmly placing the city in the last half-century. Wrought iron lampposts held glass lanterns at intervals along the street. Tess fought a wave of dizziness. Who was the woman, and how was she traveling into the mortal world? The Gates had been closed.
Not all the Gates, not until just recently, the Sword reminded her, the words drifting around her in the vision.
Who is she? Tess tried to move in the vision but only succeeded in unbalancing herself, and the Sword hastily withdrew her from the scene to save her from falling onto the enchanted floor of the pavilion. She swallowed and glanced around surreptitiously; no one had seemed to notice her brief sojourn from reality. Then Liam caught her eye and raised an eyebrow inquiringly – of course her brother had picked up on it. She shook her head slightly to signal him that she was all right.