by Jocelyn Fox
“I was sent by Faelan in the healing ward, my lady.”
Tess swallowed and grimaced. She felt like cotton stuffed her head; it made thinking very difficult. The name Haze mentioned plucked a distant chord, but she couldn’t grasp the memory. “And what message did Faelan send?”
“He is the healer tending to your companion,” said Haze with a slight bow. “Sage is awake, my lady, and his healer sent me to notify you.”
“You’re a very busy messenger,” Tess commented as she stood and picked up the Sword, slinging it over her shoulder by its bandolier.
“It is not so hard to be in the right place at the right time,” Haze said enigmatically. “Would you like me to accompany you to the wards, my lady?”
“I’d appreciate the company,” Tess said with a small smile. She left the pile of books by her chair, thinking that Vell’s quarters were more secure than the healing ward, but she did take her small leather-bound notebook and poured herself a cup of cold khal for the walk. She waited until they were wending their way through the darkened passageways and then said, “I have a question for you, Haze. Well, more than one question, actually.”
“Of course, my lady,” said the Glasidhe messenger, who hadn’t yet shown his cousin’s fondness for riding on Tess’s shoulder. Perhaps he was too courteous, thought Tess with affectionate amusement. Then she brought her mind back to the question at hand.
“Did the High Queen know that the bone sorcerer was in the mortal world before the council?” she asked.
Haze remained silent for so long that Tess thought he hadn’t heard her, although the passageways were completely silent at this time of night. They passed a pair of Vyldgard fighters, probably rotating out of a guard post, and Haze waited until they’d rounded another bend to speak.
“I do not think I can rightly answer this question, Lady Tess,” he said.
“Because the High Queen instructed you against answering questions about it?” Tess swallowed down the guilt burning in her throat. She didn’t like the feeling of calling into question Vell’s loyalty or friendship – she wasn’t even sure what exactly she was calling into question. If Vell had known about the bone sorcerer in the mortal world, what would that change? The Vyldretning had already given her own explanation.
“My lady,” said Haze carefully, “I would prefer not to have to answer this question. I do not wish to be caught between you and the High Queen.”
Tess pressed her lips together. “I see.”
“From what I have heard,” said the Glasidhe, flying just ahead of Tess on her left side, “Queen Vell only desires what is best for her Court.”
“I’m not a part of her Court,” Tess pointed out, her voice tightening. She wasn’t sure if her feeling of betrayal was a product of her lack of sleep, the stresses of navigating the Fae world after Malravenar’s defeat…or if it was a perfectly normal result of a friend withholding such a crucial piece of information.
“No, you are not part of the Vyldgard. You are the Bearer,” continued Haze bravely. “But you are also her friend. She wishes you to be happy and whole, just as she wishes for her Vyldgard to be happy and whole.”
Tess took a deep breath as they neared the entrance to the healing wards. There would be time enough later to unpack her feelings about the negotiations to open the Gate…or perhaps there wouldn’t be. She shook her head to clear it of her oscillating thoughts. “Thank you for accompanying me, Haze. And there is another question I’d like to ask you.”
“My lady.” Haze bowed as Tess came to a stop, still hovering precisely at eye level.
“Would you join the party venturing into the mortal world?” Tess asked.
Haze’s aura flared and sparked in surprise. He quickly regained control over his aura but his wings beat double time and his precise positioning wavered. “I… my lady, I … I will have to…”
“Ensure that you have permission from Lumina, I assume,” said Tess with a small smile as Wisp’s cousin trailed off. “I think she’ll see the benefit in sending another one of her finest messengers to gain experience in the mortal world.”
“I shall ask her this morning,” said Haze faintly.
“You don’t think Wisp will be upset with me, do you?” Tess asked, raising one eyebrow. “Forin and Farin might be coming along as well, and they’re capable messengers, don’t get me wrong, but I think they would be quite happy if their duties were reduced to scouting and fighting.”
“Wisp acknowledges his new limitations, such as they are, with…well, I would not say with grace, but at least with honesty,” Haze replied. “But I vow that if I travel with you to the mortal world, Lady Tess, I shall serve you with the utmost honor and dedication.”
“I have no doubt of that,” she replied. Then she sobered. “Please let me know what you decide, Haze. I’m going to go see Sage, and then later today it is planned that we’ll open the Gate.”
“I will seek you out as soon as I have Lady Lumina’s blessing,” said Haze.
Tess walked toward the entryway to the healing ward, and then paused, looking over her shoulder. “Oh, and Haze?”
“Yes, my lady?”
“I don’t like formality with my traveling companions, so it’s just Tess from now on.”
Haze bowed quickly, but not before Tess saw the delighted grin on his puckish face. “Yes…Tess.”
Tess gave him a nod and a smile, and then turned back to the healing ward. She walked quickly past the supply stations at the entryway. Most of the healers didn’t give her a second glance. The night-dimmed taebramh lights glowed softly at the foot of each wounded fighter’s pallet. She noted with quiet satisfaction that more of the pallets were empty since her last visit to the ward.
A healer that Tess recognized as one of the Vyldgard met her before she reached Sage’s pallet. She forced herself to stop, waiting silently for him to speak.
“Lady Bearer,” said the healer quietly. “Cora told us that you wanted to be notified when Sage awoke.”
Tess nodded. “I appreciate it.” She took a step forward, but the healer – Faelan, Tess reminded herself – raised a cautionary hand.
“Lady Bearer,” he began again, “just another moment of your time. Sage is having difficulty.”
“Difficulty? What kind of difficulty?” She wanted to push past Faelan and see Sage for herself.
“Sometimes,” Faelan said, “awakening from a white shroud infusion is difficult. Sage is suffering from some…confusion.”
“Confusion,” Tess repeated slowly. “Do you mean loss of memory? That kind of confusion?”
Faelan paused. “It isn’t a problem of memory. Sage knows who is and he remembers parts of the battle. I think it is more a problem of separating reality from his hallucinations.”
“He’s having hallucinations?” Tess frowned. She didn’t like the idea of the wry, compassionate Seelie healer suffering from hallucinations. It sounded like the worst kind of punishment, not a physical wound but a mental one.
Faelan nodded. “I believe so. Please just keep that in mind. Some of the things that he says don’t make sense, and some of them are outlandish. Some of them even border on treason.”
She stiffened. “Surely Titania wouldn’t truly think it’s treason. Not in this circumstance.”
“I don’t believe so,” said Faelan. “But I’m no longer part of the Seelie Court.”
“I understand.” Tess took a deep breath. “I don’t have much time, so I’d like to spend what time I can with him now. Hallucinations or no.”
The Vyldgard healer bowed his head in acceptance. “I understand, Lady Bearer. If he becomes too agitated, I may have to give him a light infusion to calm him, but I hope that doesn’t happen.”
“I hope that doesn’t happen as well,” Tess replied softly, looping one finger through her pendant as Faelan stepped aside and she approached Sage’s pallet. There was already a figure sitting by the bed, but she saw that the other visitor was dozing, his elbows on his knees an
d his chin propped on his hands. The dim light of the taebramh globe reflected off his hair with a fiery red sheen. She touched his shoulder gently. “Robin.”
He startled awake and then relaxed as soon as he saw her. “Tess. Thought you’d come soon.”
“How long have you been here?”
“Most of the night. I knew you were preparing for the Gate and I’d been told that they were bringing him off the white shroud soon.” He combed his fingers through his tousled hair, delicately avoiding the tender scar at the back of his head.
Tess offered him her half-full cup of khal. “It’s cold, but it’s better than nothing.”
“That’s certainly true.” He took the cup without hesitation and downed it one draught.
While Robin drank, Tess looked down at Sage. She couldn’t convince herself that his pallor and the shadows under his eyes were entirely due to the dim lighting. His eyes were closed, but his eyelids trembled with fitful movement and his good hand plucked at the blankets. Sweat dampened his skin. A sling and thick swathes of bandages bound his right arm across his chest, and a line of stitches marked an almost-healed gash just above his left eye. Tess resisted the urge to reach down and brush his fair hair from his forehead. “So you were here when he woke up?”
Robin nodded. He put aside the empty cup and motioned for Tess to sit. “Yes.”
She folded her legs and sat on a few piled furs. “Tell me what happened.”
“Faelan told you?”
“Faelan told me that Sage seems confused, but I don’t really know what that means. So please, tell me what happened.”
Robin took a slow, deep breath and looked steadily at Tess. “I don’t think he’s confused.”
“Why?” She felt a crease appear between her eyebrows.
“Because I’m not confused.” Sage stared up at her with fever-bright eyes, and his attempt at a smile only emphasized his hollow cheeks and sallow skin.
“Sage,” said Tess, leaning forward quickly. “I’m so glad you’re awake.”
He grimaced. His voice was so low and hoarse that it was almost a whisper. “I guess I should say I’m glad, but…” He stopped and swallowed painfully. Without a word, Robin lifted a cup of water to Sage’s lips and helped him drink.
“How’s the pain?” she asked, unpinning the sheet of parchment at the foot of his pallet. She scanned it quickly and pressed her lips together.
“It’s…not good.” Sage again attempted to smile. “But you know…they can’t give me anything…coming off of white shroud. Have to…cleanse it all out.”
Tess replaced the record, stabbing the pin into the parchment a little more violently than strictly necessary. “I don’t understand why they use it, then.”
“It helps…in the long run,” said Sage in his dry and crackling voice. He stiffened, clenching the blankets in his good hand as he bit down on a sound of pain. Robin leaned forward and covered Sage’s hand with his own.
Taking her seat again, Tess frowned and mulled over Faelan’s warning. Sage didn’t seem confused, and she hadn’t seen any evidence of hallucinations yet. She sat silently until Sage took a long, shuddering breath and turned his head to her again.
“You’re going into the mortal world,” he said.
She blinked in surprise. “Yes. How did you…?”
He chuckled mirthlessly, a rasping sound that ended in a cough and another sip of water. “I wasn’t so deep under the white shroud that I couldn’t hear the healers sometimes.”
“Okay,” Tess said quietly, thinking that the heavy sedation sounded less and less appealing. “Yes, I’m going into the mortal world.”
“Have they told you?” Sage’s eyes widened with fervor.
“Told me what?” Tess glanced at Robin, but the Vyldgard fighter didn’t meet her eyes.
“They haven’t told anyone,” Sage continued, his voice cracking. “Mab hates you and Titania is protecting herself and they haven’t told anyone.”
Tess leaned in closer to Sage, hoping that it would encourage him to keep his voice down; a prickle of unease raised the hairs on the back of her neck. “What haven’t they told anyone? I don’t understand.”
“My father was a part of it,” Sage said. “He was young, he wanted to rise in favor with Titania…” He trailed off and groaned, his hand tightening around Robin’s.
Gwyneth’s pendant warmed at Tess’s neck. Her eyes widened – the pendant rarely made itself known anymore. “What was your father a part of, Sage?”
The Seelie healer seemed not to hear her, his eyes clenched shut. She waited a long moment and then reached out, touching his good shoulder. Robin pressed his lips together but said nothing.
“Sage, please. I need you to tell me.”
Sage seemed not to hear her, breathing heavily in the throes of his pain. She reached for his shoulder again but Robin gently caught her wrist with his free hand.
“He already told me,” he said. “Or I heard him. He’s talked about it twice since he awakened. The healer heard some of it, but he’s Vyldgard.”
“He’s talked about what?”
Robin glanced up, his eyes finding Faelan at the far end of the row. He spoke in a low voice completely different from the loud and exuberant fighter she normally knew. “Sage said that before the closing of the Great Gate, there was a handful of Sidhe that rebelled against Mab and Titania. The last Bearer was thought to be sympathetic to them.”
“I don’t believe that Gwyneth would have supported an uprising,” said Tess through numb lips. But then again, how much did she truly know about her ancestor?
Robin shook his head. “I don’t think that it was an attempt to overthrow the Queens. These Sidhe just wanted their freedom. A few of them had traveled north and spoken to the ulfdrengr. Some of them had even lived among them for a few seasons. They’d seen how the Northmen lived and they chafed under the rule of the Queens.”
“It doesn’t sound like this is the first time you’ve heard about it,” she said quietly.
“There were rumors. Half-truths passed down through the centuries. But it was forbidden to speak of it. Except now, with the Wild Court breaking the bonds between Sidhe…things are different.”
“Sage is still Seelie.” Tess felt a sudden surge of concern for her friend.
“Yes.” Robin looked down at Sage. “Which is why it is dangerous for him to be speaking of it, but he won’t be quieted.”
Sage’s eyes rolled open again. “Not until you know, Tess.”
“So there was a rebellion against the Sidhe Queens long ago,” she said softly, her voice almost a whisper. “Mab and Titania blamed the ulfdrengr?”
“In part,” said Robin quietly. “That was the start of the enmity between them.”
Tess shook her head. “I don’t understand what all this has to do with me if it happened centuries ago.”
Sage caught her eyes, his gaze glossy. “Because, Tess, the rebels were exiled.”
“Exiled…to where?” Tess asked slowly, though her mind had already supplied the answer.
Sage’s voice was barely loud enough to hear, but his words seared into her as though he’d shouted. “To the mortal world. They were exiled to the mortal world and the Great Gate was sealed soon after.” He licked his dry lips. “The Queens expected them to perish in Doendhtalam.”
“Let me guess,” said Tess. “They didn’t.”
“Some survived,” said Sage.
“They survived their exile for centuries in the mortal world,” said Robin, his voice grim. “But it’s doubtful their sanity is intact.”
Tess shivered. “How would they have survived?”
“Blood,” whispered Sage. He let out a long breath. “My father told me on his deathbed that he regretted it.” He gazed into the hazy darkness overhead. “They rounded them up and put chains of iron on them and thrust them through the Gate.”
“They used iron on their own people?” Tess couldn’t help the incredulity in her voice.
“T
hey were traitors,” said Robin. He lifted an eyebrow fractionally. “Or so they were called.”
“Why is it so important to warn me?” she asked. The Sword thrummed on her back. Sage shifted his eyes to the sheath of the Caedbranr, staring at it until Tess patiently asked her question again. He blinked and looked at her.
“Because,” he said, “the Exiled will want revenge.”
Chapter 16
Ross picked her way through the overgrown brush in her back yard carefully, cursing under her breath as she stepped into the mouth of some animal’s burrow. Pausing, she switched the Glock into her left hand and pulled her phone out of her pocket. She pressed down on the power button again, watching the screen hopefully and giving a little sigh when the glowing silver emblem appeared and the device powered on. She flicked through to the flashlight function and used the little light to illuminate the ground before her feet, switching the phone into her left hand and the gun into her right.
The old shed sat far back on the property, almost on the bank of the river. When Ross moved in, Vivian had explained that there had been a little dock on the river once upon a time, but the upkeep had been too much. So the boat shed had been converted into a sort of garden shed, not that Vivian or Ross used it much. When she’d first moved into the house, Ross had harbored a brief fantasy of outfitting the shed with a pull-up bar and some kettlebell weights for training, but the thick humidity and plethora of insects that resided near the river quickly quashed any desire to use the shed as her gym. She’d admitted a bit ruefully after the first month of summer that air conditioning was her new favorite creature comfort.
The thin beam of her phone’s flashlight cut out sharp shadows behind the blades of grass and the climbing vines reaching out from the trees along the river. Ross felt the darkness of the night pressing in around her; a bubble of incoherent fear rose into her chest, but she pushed it away and focused on the physical task of walking. One foot in front of the other, don’t step in any more holes, don’t think about what else could be lurking in the inky blackness. Don’t let the primal survival instinct take control of your mind and send you running. Steady breathing, steady footsteps, and then she was at the shed, the worn planks gray in the shadows. She reached out and knocked three times on the wall of the shed. Two knocks sounded from inside; she smiled a little. She hadn’t used a deconfliction knock in almost three years, but the old training was always there in the back of her head.