by E.J. Stevens
“Yeah, I’m good,” I said, lying through my teeth.
“Good,” he said, eyeing me warily. “Now who was shooting at you back there, before we traveled to Emain Ablach?”
Oh, right, the faerie assassins. Another thing that I’d put off talking to Ceff about.
“The Moordenaar,” Torn said, answering for me.
Ceff blanched.
“Then the courts have discovered your secret,” he said. “They have marked you as a traitor.”
“Yeah, sorry, I was going to tell you…I just ran out of time,” I said.
My faced burned. That sounded lame, even to me. I could have told Ceff about the Moordenaar while we traipsed through the forest hacking away at spider webs, but I hadn’t.
I let my messy hair fall into my face, shielding me from Ceff’s strained smile. I should have told him about the Mooredaar sooner.
Ceff cleared his throat and I forced myself to meet his watery gaze.
“They will not stop until you are dead,” he said.
He was right. The Mooredaar are trained assassins, zealots who believe wholeheartedly in wiping out those who threaten the secrets of the faerie courts. They will come for me, and eventually they’d kill me. That truth sucked, turned the blood in my veins to ice, but shaking in my boots wouldn’t help us. I tightened my hands into fists and gave Ceff a curt nod.
“Well, they can get in line with the rest of the creeps who want something from me,” I said. “I doubt the glaistig would appreciate them destroying her tool before she has a chance to use up her two bargains.”
Feeling sorry for myself, me? Okay, maybe just a little. It had been a rough two days, and the battle was far from over. At least I hadn’t gone fetal like the gibbering voice in my brain kept suggesting.
“You could seek sanctuary with The Green Lady,” he said. “Many of the carnival fae cannot create a glamour, but the glaistig has special dispensation from Mab and Oberon to rule over her kingdom as she sees fit. Humans think that the oddities of the carnival are just part of an elaborate parlor trick and since they do not believe the carnival fae are real, fae who cannot control their powers are allowed to live there. You would no longer be considered a threat to the faerie courts if you removed yourself from the human world.”
He held his body rigid, his face an impassive mask, but I could sense how difficult this was for him. If I sought sanctuary with the glaistig, I would become her lapdog. I would survive, but my ties to friends and family would be severed. The relationship that Ceff and I had only just begun would be over the moment I knelt and swore fealty to The Green Lady.
We both knew it, but he said the words just the same. He didn’t want to lose me, but he also didn’t want to see me die. And he obviously didn’t trust his ability to keep me safe against the Moordenaar.
“No,” I said, shaking my head. “I’m not a follower. I’d rather die first.”
“Well, princess,” Torn said. “You might just get your wish.”
Ouch. Leave it to Torn to go for the jugular.
“Yeah, well, it might be preferable to what the glaistig has in store for me,” I said. “I might be able to weasel my way out of our first bargain, but I still owe her one more favor of her choosing. Whether I swear fealty to her or not, I’m still bound to the woman—as much as I hate to admit it. And I doubt she’ll be as easy to fool the next time.”
“Too bad Ailinn didn’t give you two apples,” Torn said. “You could fool the glaistig by bringing your witch friend back and release yourself from your second bargain with the glaistig.”
“Wait, what?” I asked. “How could an apple get me out of my bargain?”
Ceff and Torn didn’t know about the second apple I’d grabbed on our way out of Emain Ablach, the half rotten twin safely tucked away in my jacket with its silver sibling. Until I fully understood what Torn was getting at, I wasn’t sharing that little secret.
Torn rolled his eyes.
“Because, princess, dying gives you a clean slate,” he said. “It’s drastic, sure, but it’s also possible if, you know, you had a way to come back to life.”
Like if I had a magic apple.
I gently bit my lip, a plan already forming in my mind. I’d kill myself and use the apple to bring me back. I had in fact grabbed that second apple, but it was rotten and may not work. But that was okay, because if dying absolved me of my bargains, then I didn’t have to kill Kaye. She didn’t have to die—only one of us did.
But why hadn’t anyone thought of this sooner? Did Ceff know about that little loophole? I looked over to see Ceff wince. Oh yeah, he knew. Who else knew about this?
“Does Kaye know that there’s a way for me to break the bargain without her having to die?” I asked.
“Maybe,” Torn said. “But then again, maybe not. It’s not something we go around advertising to the supernatural world. And most fae can’t bring themselves to fight the rules of a bargain. But I’m thinking with your mixed blood and pain in the ass stubbornness, you might be crazy enough to give it a shot.”
If this worked, I’d be out from under that second bargain I owed The Green Lady. And if it didn’t, well I wouldn’t be around to find out what kind of nastiness the glaistig and the Moordenaar had planned for me.
“Kaye wouldn’t have to die,” I said.
“Ivy, please,” Ceff said.
“No, you know I have to do this,” I said. “You said it yourself, I’m a hero.”
Today I’d gone on a hero’s journey to Emain Ablach, faced a sea diety with a legendary sword, plucked a magic apple from the grave of Ailinn, and lived to tell about it. I was a hero—and heroes don’t let their friends die in their place.
Chapter 44
Too bad Kaye had other ideas.
“We will both die and ride the apples back to life,” she said. “It is obvious that’s why Ailinn’s spirit gave you two apples.”
I wasn’t so convinced.
“She may have told me to take the apples, plural, but I was the one who grabbed the second one off the ground—it’s not like she handed it to me on a golden platter,” I said. “And it’s half rotten, so it probably won’t even work.”
We’d left Torn to deploy his network of cat sidhe spies to keep an eye out for the Moordenaar and proceeded to take a circuitous route to The Emporium, hoping to keep any potential assassins off our trail. But it was a brief reprieve. If I’d known how difficult Kaye was going to be, I might have tried doing this without her help. If nothing else, I should have listened to Torn’s parting advice—don’t piss off the witch.
The moment Ceff and I arrived Kaye grilled me for details on our trip to Emain Ablach. She demanded that I tell her everything that Ailinn said, word for freaking word—over and over again. She also wrung the truth from me about the second apple. Ever since then, she’d berated me about how this was going to go down—and I didn’t like her plan, not one bit.
“Oberon’s eyes, Kaye, I don’t even know why we’re having this conversation!” I yelled.
I breathed hard, trying to get my temper under control. Here I was, trying to do the right thing, and Kaye was bucking me every step of the way. It was enough to drive a girl insane.
My death would give me a clean slate, cancelling out both of my bargains with The Green Lady. Once that happened, I would be under no obligation to kill Kaye. Sure, not having sealed Kaye’s actual death would make entering the carnival grounds nearly impossible, but that was a chance I had to take.
I’d use the fire imps as a distraction, and if I got caught on carnival grounds without permission, I’d face the consequences.
“Stop being so stubborn, girl,” Kaye said. “You know you need my help, so let me do my part.”
“But why?” I said. “I get you helping me and protecting the city from the fire imps at the same time, but you don’t even like Jinx. Why help me gain access to the incubus?”
“Revenge, dear,” she said. “That goat woman demanded my death. You could say w
e have a debt to settle.”
Kaye’s dark eyes glinted, lips pulling up into a grin, and I stifled a shiver. Torn was right. Don’t piss off the witch. I sure as hell hoped I didn’t end up on Kaye’s bad side. But that didn’t keep me from taking the rotten apple for myself.
If Kaye was crazy enough to follow through with this plan, I’d at least give her the best possible chance at survival. She just didn’t know it yet.
“Fine,” I said. “It’s your funeral—literally—so how do you want to do this?”
“I have just the potion,” she said. “Though I never thought I’d be drinking it myself.”
Poison, we were talking about poison. My gut twisted and I tamped down the fear that rose in my throat.
“Will it be painful?” I asked.
“No, dear,” she said. “You won’t feel a thing.”
“Arachne, come give me a hand,” she said, pointing to her purple-haired apprentice. “Fetch a bottle of wine.”
I watched Kaye and Arachne brew a death potion and mix it with wine. Kaye was smiling and chatting as if she were teaching the kid how to bake cookies. Meanwhile, Jinx slept in the spell circle covered in the blanket that Forneus had covered her with just hours before. The entire scene was so surreal that it was hard to believe that any of this was really happening.
Ceff came to stand beside me, his silent presence giving me strength. We stood like that for awhile, just enjoying being close to one another.
“I love you,” he said.
I blinked away tears and gave Ceff a wan smile.
“I know,” I said. “I love you too.”
I wanted to reach out to touch Ceff, to have him fold me in his arms and pull me close, but I didn’t have time to experience the visions of his tragic past. So I leaned against the counter, hands fisted at my sides. I’d wanted to get away with Ceff, spend a few days somewhere peaceful, just the two of us. Now, there was a chance that may never happen.
The rap of metal against metal brought me out of my brooding thoughts with a start. Kaye was beating a large spoon against the cauldron she’d carried from the stove and set on the counter between us. Mab’s bloody bones, this was really going to happen.
I was going to die, and eat a magic apple to come back to life—if I was lucky. My mouth went dry. Yeah, probably not the best idea I’d ever had.
“Ready, dear?” Kaye asked.
I avoided looking at Ceff, instead keeping my eyes on Jinx’s prone form, and nodded.
“Yeah, I’m ready,” I said.
“Are you sure about this?” Ceff asked. “We could find another way to free Jinx from the incubus and keep you safe.”
“I’m sure,” I said, sliding away from the counter to stand up straight and meet his gaze. “This is my best chance at freedom and Jinx’s best chance at survival…and Kaye wants revenge. If we had more time, we might have found another way. But time isn’t a luxury we have. We need to do this now.”
“I just wish it was not such a risky plan,” he said.
“You know me,” I said with a shrug and a wry grin. “I never do anything halfway. This will be risky, no matter the plan.”
“I have faith in the apples,” Kaye said, her tone brooking no argument. “Now let’s stop dilly dallying. Give me the blighted apple.”
I pulled out the perfect, silver apple and set in on the counter between us.
“Don’t be silly, child,” she said, narrowing her eyes and pointing a tattooed index finger at me. “That apple is for you.”
I heaved a sigh and ran a gloved hand through my hair.
“The other apple is more risky, you know that,” I said.
Kaye pounded a fist on the counter, liquid from the spoon in her hand spilling onto the stone surface. Arachne blanched and stepped away from the counter, her eyes ping ponging between us.
“I’m an old woman,” Kaye said, baring her teeth and giving an impatient snort. “I’ll take my chances.”
“No,” I said, shaking my head. “If we’re going to do this, we do things my way.”
Kaye glared at me, but I stared right back into her sharp, kohl rimmed eyes. She sighed and slumped against the counter.
“Fine, have it your way, girl,” she said.
She plucked the apple from the counter, put it in her mouth, and took a bite. Judging from her grimace, it wasn’t the tastiest of apples—the bitter fruit of faerie schemes rarely are. I pulled the bag from my pocket that held the second apple, ready to follow her lead, but Kaye shook her head.
“Not yet, dear,” she said. “Wait and watch.”
Kaye finished eating the apple, core and all, and nodded to Arachne.
“Add a spoonful of the potion to three fingers of wine,” she said, instructing the young witch.
Arachne poured wine into two large goblets and spooned liquid from the steaming cauldron into each. I swallowed hard. At least the potion didn’t smell bad. The scent of cinnamon, clove, and berries were thick in the air as Kaye lifted a goblet to her lips. She coughed, hand flying to her mouth and she lowered herself onto a nearby chair.
Kaye’s hand came away stained with blood, not wine, but she didn’t grimace in pain. She said that taking the potion wouldn’t hurt and I trusted her not to lie, not about this. She smiled and sat back in the chair, hand dropping to her side.
I stood transfixed. There was no rise and fall of her chest, no light in her drooping eyes. Kaye was dead.
“What do we do?” Arachne asked in a whisper.
“We wait,” I said.
As we watched, the tattoos on Kaye’s skin began to retreat. Dark, black, intertwining lines faded first from her hands, then her neck and arms. Torn had said that dying would give me a chance to be free of the faerie bargains I’d sworn to, but I hadn’t given much thought to what the experience might do to a witch as old as Kaye. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one who was getting a clean slate.
Kaye had been cursed with those tattoos as part of the cost of using powerful magic. It was the price she had paid, one that would eventually catch up with her. Her magic had already weakened, but I suspected that she would die or burn out the last of her magic entirely if there was no longer bare skin available to allow the tattoos to spread. She’d come close to that during our battle with the each uisge, damn close.
I’d like nothing more than to see the clock turn back on Kaye’s tattoos, but one truth echoed inside my head—having her magic at full strength wouldn’t do Kaye any good if she remained dead.
I held my breath, the sound of Arachne’s teeth grinding against her hair the only sound in the room. Come on, Kaye. Wake up. My eyes felt gritty and dry, but I didn’t dare blink as I watched Kaye for any signs of life. Oh god, what if the apples were some kind of faerie trick? What if they didn’t work at all? My stomach twisted.
What have I done?
Kaye gasped, a reverse death rattle from deep in her throat, and I covered my mouth with a trembling hand. Ceff stepped forward and bent to place his fingers against her throat. He nodded and smiled.
“She will live,” he said.
The “but” hung heavy in the air. Kaye was back from the dead, but I didn’t kid myself that everything was fine. Dying wasn’t easy on the body and Kaye was hundreds of years old. There was still a chance that she had suffered irreparable brain damage. She may never regain consciousness.
Only time would tell.
I bit my lip and leaned forward, gloved hands shaking as I place them wide on the stone countertop.
“Kaye?” I asked. “You alright?”
“Give…me…a…second,” she said between wheezing gasps for breath. “Always…so…impatient.”
Her eyelids fluttered open, the dark eyes filled with their usual shrewd intelligence and, a hint of mischief.
Arachne rushed over to her side, waving a hand in front of Kaye’s face.
“How many fingers am I holding up?” Arachne asked, leaning forward.
“Three,” Kaye groused. “And if you k
eep waving that fool hand of yours in my face, that’s how many big, ugly warts I’ll put on that perky little nose of yours.”
Arachne’s hands flew to her face and she shook her head, backing away.
“You wouldn’t,” she said, voice muffled behind her hands.
“Don’t test me, child,” she said. “By the Goddess, I’ve just died and come back to life. It has been one hell of a day.”
I let out a shaky laugh. Kaye was alive, thank Mab, and just as sharp as ever.
“Go on,” she said, making a shooing motion with her hands—hands that no longer carried the tattoos of spent magic. “I can’t breathe with you all hovering like a band of moroi.”
“As you wish,” Ceff said.
He stepped aside to give the woman space, but I couldn’t help but step closer, eyes wide and shining. I was no moroi—phantoms who draw life from the living—but I was drawn to Kaye just the same. I couldn’t stop staring at her skin.
“Kaye,” I said, pointing. “Your tattoos, they’re gone.”
She held up her arm, pulling the lace sleeves of her dress away from the unblemished skin.
“Well I’ll be,” she said. “That is…unexpected.”
I’m pretty sure that there wasn’t much that surprised the witch, so I backed off and gave her a moment to let the implications sink in. If her bare skin meant what I thought it did, then her magic was back to full strength, or would be as soon as she recovered. Judging by the slow grin tugging at her lips, she’d just realized that as well.
The glaistig better watch her back.
“Feeling better?” Ceff asked.
I smiled, doing an internal inventory, and nodded.
“Now that you mention it, yeah, I do,” I said. “I feel great. Never better.”
It was the truth. No more bone crushing fatigue. No wobbly knees or shaky muscles pushed to the brink of exhaustion. The weight of one unfulfilled bargain—the compulsion to kill Kaye—was gone. I rubbed my gloved hands together thinking about just how much I was going to enjoy seeing the look on The Green Lady’s face when I showed up later tonight with an angry witch bent on revenge.