"Killing Frost has never held a sign of favor," the queen said, and her voice was strangely unhappy.
"No," Frost said, "I have not. I was not fully sidhe when last the sidhe held such favors." He shrugged back into his shirt and began to button it into place. He wasn't just dressed, he was armed. Most of the others held a sword and dagger, but only Doyle and Frost had guns. Rhys had left his gun behind with his clothes in the bedroom.
I noticed a bulge here and there under Frost's shirt, which meant he held more weapons than could be easily seen. He liked being armed, but this many weapons meant something had made him nervous. The assassination attempts, maybe, or maybe something else. His handsome face was closed to me, hidden behind the arrogance that he used as a mask. Perhaps he was just hiding his thoughts and feelings from the queen, but then again…Frost tended to be moody.
Rhys said, "Let Abeloec and Merry finish what they began. Let us all finish it."
Queen Andais took in a deep breath, so that even across the dimly lit chamber I could see the rise and fall of the V of white flesh in her robe. "Very well, finish it. Then come to me, for we have much to discuss." She held out her hand to Mistral. "Come, my captain, let us leave them to their pleasures."
Mistral did not question. He stood and took her pale hand.
"We need him," Rhys said.
"No," Andais said, "no, I have given Meredith my green men. She does not need the whole world."
"Does grass grow without wind and rain?" Doyle asked.
"No," she said, and her voice was unfriendly again, as if she would like to be angry but couldn't afford to be right now. Andais was a creature of her temper; she always indulged it. This much self-restraint from her was rare.
"To make spring, you need many things, my queen," said Doyle. "Without warmth and water, plants wither and die." They stared at each other, the queen and her Darkness. It was the queen who looked away first.
"Mistral may stay." She released his hand, then looked across the cavern at me. "But let this be understood between us, niece. He is not yours. He is mine. He is yours only for this space of time. Is that clear to all of you?"
We all nodded.
"And you, Mistral," the queen said. "Do you understand?"
"My geas is lifted for this space of time with the princess alone."
"Clearly put, as always," she said. She turned her back as if she would walk through the wall, then turned and looked over her shoulder. "I will finish what I was doing when I noticed your absence, Mistral."
He dropped to his knees. "My queen, please do not do this…"
She turned back with a smile that was almost pleasant—except for the look in her eyes, which even from here was frightening. "You mean, do not leave you with the princess?"
"No, my queen, you know that is not what I mean."
"Do I?" she said, danger in her voice. She glided over the dead brush and placed the point of Mortal Dread under his chin. "You didn't come to ask the advice of my Darkness. You came to bid the princess to intercede for Nerys's clan."
Mistral's shoulders moved as if he'd breathed deeply, or swallowed hard.
"Answer me, Mistral," she said, a whine of rage like a razor's edge in her voice.
"Nerys gave her life on your word that you would not kill her people. You—" He stopped talking abruptly, as if she'd nudged the point close enough that he couldn't speak without cutting himself.
"Aunt Andais," I said, "what have you done to Nerys's people?"
"They tried to kill you and me last night, or have you forgotten?"
"I remember, but I also remember that Nerys asked you to take her life, so that you might spare her house. You gave your word that you would let them live if she died in their place."
"I have not harmed a single one," she said, and she looked entirely too pleased with herself.
"What does that mean?" I asked.
"I merely offered the men a chance to serve their queen as a member of my royal guard. I need my Ravens at full strength."
"Joining your guard means giving up all family loyalties and becoming celibate. Why would they agree to either of those things?" I asked.
She took the blade away from Mistral's throat. "You were so eager to tattle on me. Tell her now."
"May I rise, my queen?" he asked.
"Rise, cartwheel—I care not—just tell her."
Mistral rose cautiously, and when she made no move toward him, he began to ease across the room toward us. His throat was dark in the flickering lights. She'd bled him. Any sidhe could heal such a small cut, but because Mortal Dread had done the damage, he would heal mortal slow; human slow.
Mistral's eyes were wide, frightened, but he moved easily across the dead ground, as if he weren't worried that she would do something to him as he walked away from her. I know that my shoulder blades would have been aching with the fear of the blow. Only when he was out of reach of her sword did some of the panic leave his eyes. Even then, they were that shade of tornado green. Anxiety.
"Far enough," she said. "Meredith can hear you from there."
He stopped obediently, but he swallowed hard, as if he didn't like that she'd stopped him before he got back to us. I didn't blame him. The queen had magic that could destroy from this distance. She'd probably made him stop just so he would worry. She might intend him no more harm, but she wanted him to be afraid. She liked for people to be afraid of her.
"She has put metal chains of binding on all of the house of Nerys, so they can do no magic," said Mistral.
"I can't argue with that," I said. "They attacked us at court, all of them. They should lose their magic for a time."
"She has given the men the chance to become her Ravens. The women she has offered to the prince's guard, his Cranes."
"Cel is in seclusion, locked away. He needs no guard," I said.
"Most of the women would not agree to it, anyway," Mistral said. "But the queen had to be seen giving them all a choice."
"A choice between becoming guards and what?" I asked. I was almost afraid of the answer. She'd been carrying Mortal Dread. I prayed that she hadn't executed them. She would be forsworn before the entire court. And I needed Andais on the throne until she confirmed me as her heir.
"The queen has bid Ezekiel and his helpers to wall them up alive," said Mistral.
I blinked at him. I couldn't quite follow it all. My first thought was to protest that the queen was forsworn; then I realized she wasn't. "They're immortal, so they won't die," I said, softly.
"They will know terrible hunger and thirst, and they will wish to die," Mistral said, "but no, they are immortal, and they will not die."
I looked past him to my aunt. "Tricksy you," I said. "Very damn clever."
She gave a little bow from the neck. "So glad you appreciate the delicate reasoning of it."
"Oh, I do," and I meant it. "You've broken no oath. In fact, technically, you're doing exactly what Nerys gave her life for. Her clan, her house, her bloodline will live."
"That is not living," Mistral said.
"Did you really think that the princess had enough influence with me to save them from their fate?" asked Andais.
"Once I would have gone to Essus, to ask his help with you," Mistral said. "So I sought the princess."
"She is not my brother," Andais snarled.
"No, she is not Essus," Mistral said, "but she is his child. She is your blood."
"And what does that mean, Mistral? That she can bargain for Nerys's people? They have already been bargained for, by Nerys herself."
"You are pixieing on the spirit of that bargain," Rhys said.
"But not breaking it," she said.
"No," he said, and he looked so sad. "No, the sidhe never lie, and we always keep our word. Except our version of the truth can be more dangerous than any lie, and you'd better think through every word of any oath we give our word to, because we will find a way to make you regret you ever met us." He sounded more angry than sad.
"D
o you dare to criticize your queen?" she asked.
I touched Rhys's arm, squeezed. He looked first at my hand, then at my face. Whatever he saw there made him take a deep breath and shake his head. "No one would dare to do that, Queen Andais." His voice was resigned again.
"What would you give for a sign that life was returning to the gardens?" Doyle asked.
"What do you mean by sign?" she asked, and her voice held all the suspicion of someone who knew us all too well.
"What would you give for some hint of life here in the gardens?" "A little wind is not a sign," she said.
"But would the beginnings of life here in the gardens be worth nothing to you, my queen?"
"Of course it would be worth something."
"It could mean that our power was returning," Doyle said.
She motioned with the sword, silver gleaming dully in the light. "I know what it would mean, Darkness."
"And a return of our power, what would that be worth to you, Queen?"
"I know where you are going, Darkness. Do not try to play such games with me. I invented these games."
"Then I will not play. I will state plainly. If we can bring some hint of life to these underground worlds, then you will wait to punish, in any way, Nerys's people. Or anyone else."
A smile as cruel and cold as a winter morning curved her lips. "Good catch, Darkness, good catch."
My throat was tight with the realization that if he'd forgotten the last phrase, others would have paid for her anger. Someone who would have mattered to Doyle, or me, or both, if she could have found them. Rhys was right: This was a dangerous game, this game of words.
"For what shall I wait?" she asked.
"For us to bring life to the dead gardens, of course," he said.
"And if you do not bring life to the dead gardens, then what?"
"Then when we are all convinced that the princess and her men cannot bring life back to the gardens, you are free to do with Nerys's people as you intended."
"And if you do bring life to the gardens, what then?" she asked.
"If we bring even a hint of life back to the gardens, you will let Princess Meredith choose the punishment of those who tried to have her assassinated."
She shook her head. "Clever, Darkness, but not clever enough. If you bring a hint of life back to the gardens, then I will allow Meredith to punish Nerys's people."
It was his turn to shake his head. "If the Princess Meredith and some of her men bring even a hint of life back to these gardens, then Meredith alone decides what punishment shall be meted out to Nerys's people."
She seemed to think about that for a moment or two, then nodded. "Agreed."
"You give your word, the word of the queen of the Unseelie Court?" he asked.
She nodded. "I do."
"Witnessed," Rhys said.
She waved her hand dismissively. "Fine, fine, you have your promise. But remember, I have to agree that there is at least a hint of life. It better be some evidence impressive enough that I can't pixie out of it, Darkness, because you know I will, if I can."
"I know," he said.
She looked at me, then. It was not a friendly look. "Enjoy Mistral, Meredith. Enjoy him and know that he comes back to me when this is done."
"Thank you for loaning him to me," I said, and kept my voice absolutely empty.
She made a face at me. "Don't thank me, Meredith—not yet. You've only bedded him once." She motioned at me with the sword. "Though I see that you have found what he considers pleasure: He likes to cause pain."
"I would have thought that he would be your ideal lover then, Aunt Andais."
"I like to cause pain, niece Meredith, not be on the receiving end."
I swallowed hard, so I wouldn't say what I was thinking. I finally managed, "I did not know that you were a pure sadist, Aunt Andais."
She frowned at me. "Pure sadist—that's an odd phrase."
"I meant only that I didn't know you didn't like pain on your own body at all."
"Oh, I like a little teeth, a little nails, but not like that." Again she motioned at my breast. It ached where he'd bitten me, and I had a near-perfect imprint of his teeth, though he hadn't broken the skin. I would be bruised, but nothing more.
She shook her head, as if to chase away a thought, then turned, and the motion caused her black robe to swirl wide. She grabbed the edge of it, to pull it around herself. She looked back over her shoulder one last time before she stepped into the darkness and traveled back the way she'd come. Her last words were not a comfort. "After Mistral's had his way with her, do not come crying to me that he's broken your little princess." And the piece of darkness where she had been was empty.
So many of us let out a sigh of relief at the same time that it was like the sound of wind in the trees. Someone gave a nervous laugh.
"She is right about one thing," Mistral said, and his eyes held regret. "I like causing a little pain. I am sorry if I hurt you, but it has been so long since…" He spread his hands wide. "I forgot myself. I am sorry for that."
Rhys laughed, and Doyle joined him, and finally even Galen and Frost joined in that soft masculine sound.
"Why do you laugh?" Mistral asked.
Rhys turned to me, his face still shining with laughter. "Do you want to tell him, or do we?"
I actually blushed, which I almost never do. I kept Abe's hand in mine and drew us both across the dry, brittle grass until I stood in front of Mistral. I looked at the blood that trickled dark across his pale neck and gazed up into his eyes, so anxious. I had to smile. "I like what you did to my breast. That's just about as hard as I like it, just this side of drawing blood with teeth."
He frowned at me.
"You like the nail work to be harder than the teeth," Rhys said. "You don't mind bleeding a little from nails."
"But only if you've done the preliminaries," I said.
"Preliminaries?" Mistral said, and sounded puzzled.
"Foreplay," Abeloec said.
The puzzled look faded, and something else entirely filled his eyes. Something warm and sure of itself, something that made me shiver just from him looking at me. "I can do that," he said.
"Then take off the armor," I said.
"What?" he asked.
"Get naked," Rhys called.
"I can speak for myself, thank you," I said, glancing back at him.
He made a little motion as if to say, Be my guest. I turned back to Mistral. I gazed up into his face, and found that his eyes were already beginning to fade to a soft grey, like rain clouds. I smiled at him, and he smiled back, a little uncertainly, as if he wasn't used to smiling much.
"Get naked," I said.
He grinned, a brief flash of it. "Then what?"
"We have sex."
"I'm first," Abeloec said, hugging me from behind.
I nodded. "Agreed."
Mistral's face darkened; I could almost see clouds in his eyes. Not just the color of the irises, but the actual image of clouds floating in the pupils. "Why is he first?" he asked.
"Because he can be part of the foreplay," I said.
"She means, once I've fucked her, then you can do it rougher," said Abeloec.
Mistral smiled again, but this smile was different. This was a smile that made me breathe harder. "You really liked what I did to your breast?" he asked.
I swallowed hard, pressing myself against Abeloec's body, almost as if I were afraid of the taller man in front of me. I nodded and whispered, "Yes."
"Good," he said, and he reached for the leather fastenings that held his armor in place. "Very good," he whispered.
CHAPTER 4
THE MOMENT ABELOEC LAID ME DOWN ON A BED OF CASTOFF clothes, our skin began to glow. It was a thin layer of my guards' shirts and tunics, just enough so that I wouldn't pierce my body on the dead vegetation. It amounted to all the clothing the men were wearing, which hadn't been much—and it left them all nude. I could still feel the dry sticks, crumbling leaves, dry and withered, crush
ed underneath me.
It wasn't the feel of the ground in winter. No matter how cold the winter, how deep the snow, there is a feeling of waiting in the ground then—a sense that the land is merely asleep, and the sun will wake it, and spring will come. Not here. It was like the difference between a body that is deeply asleep and one that is dead. At a glance, your eyes may see no difference, but if you touch it, you know. The ground that Abeloec's body pressed me into held nothing—no warmth, breath, life. Empty, like the eyes of the dead that but a moment ago held personality, and now are like dark mirrors. The gardens weren't waiting for reawakening; they were just dead.
But we weren't dead.
Abeloec laid his naked body against mine and kissed me. The height difference meant that all he could do was kiss me, but it was enough. Enough to conjure that moonglow inside our bodies.
He raised up on his arms to stare down at my face. His skin glowed so bright that again his eyes became like dark grey caves in his face. I'd never met any sidhe whose eyes did not glow when their power came upon them. His long hair spilled out around us, and the white lines in his hair began to glow softly blue, like before. He raised higher on his arms, almost in a push-up, so that his body was suspended above mine on hands and toes.
Pale blue lines glowed through the white of his skin. Flowing images of vines and flowers, and trees, and animals. Nothing stayed, nothing lasted. There weren't that many lines, and they didn't move that fast. I should have been able to tell what kind of vine, what fruit, what animal, but beyond small, or large, it was as if my mind couldn't hold the images.
I traced the blue with my fingers, and it trailed over my hand, tickled and teased across the white glow of my own skin. And even staring at my own hand, I couldn't tell you what plant it was that grew and flowered there. It was as if I weren't meant to see it, or at least not to understand it. Not yet, maybe not ever.
I stopped trying to make sense of the flowing lines, and gazed down the length of Abeloec's body where it stretched above mine. He held himself above me like a shelter, as if he could have stayed there forever and never tired. I reached down his body, worming underneath his steady strength, until I could wrap my hand around the hard length of him.
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