The Mad Queen (The Fae War Chronicles Book 5)

by Jocelyn Fox

  She brought her thoughts back to the important conversation happening around the table.

  “Whatever we call it, it’s going to be dangerous,” said Liam. He glanced at Finnead. “You’re the one who’s visited the Princess. You know all their security measures. It’s tight over there.”

  “It is…tight, as you say,” agreed Finnead. “But nothing that can’t be overcome by careful planning and precise execution.”

  “If you’re saying that Vell needs plausible deniability, doesn’t that extend to her Three as well?” Quinn asked, raising one eyebrow. Finnead, Gray and Liam all looked sharply at him with varying expressions: Finnead warily, Gray appraisingly and Liam thunderously.

  “I would agree,” said Tess. She sighed. “And that probably applies to me as well, if our goal is to prevent outright escalation into war.”

  “You’re assuming that we’d be caught or seen,” pointed out Finnead.

  “An assumption that has to be made,” replied Tess. She didn’t like arguing with Finnead, especially when he looked so haggard, but she couldn’t let them plunge headlong into an ill-advised raid on the prison. “We have to plan for the worst case scenario, which is that you’ll either be seen or found out somehow.”

  Her mind shied away from acknowledging the fact that whoever went on the raid could also be killed. Somehow it seemed ridiculous, denying that possibility after the skirmishes and battles with Dark creatures and her venture back into the mortal world. But it also seemed a waste for anyone to die after they’d survived such a harrowing war…almost like an insult.

  “I’ll go,” said Calliea, her hand caressing her golden whip, a light in her eyes.

  “If the Three are too much of a risk, I don’t think that you’d be a good choice either,” said Liam. He glanced at Merrick.

  “Why are you looking at him?” Calliea demanded.

  Tess groaned inwardly. Her brother lacked tact at the most necessary moments sometimes.

  “He’s not the one who makes decisions about what I can and cannot do,” said the Valkyrie commander. She crossed her arms over her chest and raised her chin. “And neither, I think, are you.”

  “In the absence of the High Queen, we speak for her,” said Liam.

  “Oh, do you?” Calliea replied in a low voice.

  “Liam,” said Gray, subtle warning in her words. “Perhaps it would be best to allow open dialogue about the composition of this raiding party.”

  “Then we do not speak for the Vyldretning?” Liam returned challengingly.

  “You and I both know that we do and we do not,” said Gray, her beautiful face composed.

  “Should we ask for Seelie aid?” said Merrick, putting his elbows on the table and leaning forward.

  Taut silence descended on the room.

  “I don’t think so,” Tess finally said. “I think she would agree to the plan, but the wider we spread the net, the better chance that Mab gets wind of it. We have our spies within her Court, and we can’t rule out the possibility that she has spies here.”

  “Slightly paranoid, but a good point all the same,” said Quinn. He nodded to Calliea. “I’ll go.”

  “And I,” said Merrick.

  “You’ve only just returned from the mortal world,” said Calliea, unease evident in her voice.

  Merrick turned and smiled at her. “Much as I hate to say this to you, you cannot have it both ways. Neither of us can tell the other what we can or cannot do.”

  “I was just expressing my…concern,” replied Calliea coolly.

  Tess hoped they’d make up before they left on this mission. “That’s done – it will be Quinn, Calliea and Merrick. How many more do you think you’ll need?”

  Calliea looked at Finnead. “What’s your recommendation?”

  Finnead’s fathomless eyes unfocused as he thought about the Princess’s prison. “There’s four Guards in all, two at the outer door and two at the inner door. I do not believe that Mab has any additional measures.”

  “If we could disable the Guards without a direct conflict, that would be more ideal,” said Merrick.

  “I think Maeve knows a trick or two to create some sort of disabling fog,” said Quinn.

  “But you’d be going into the same space shortly afterward,” pointed out Gray.

  “We’ll figure it out,” the tattooed man replied with a confidence that Tess envied. The knot of anxiety in her stomach tightened as she thought about a small group that included some of her closest friends stealing into the unhinged Unseelie Queen’s claimed terrain.

  “So perhaps three more,” said Calliea, pacing in front of the fire.

  “Robin,” suggested Merrick. No one disagreed.

  “Moira,” contributed Tess, though her throat closed on the name of the Vyldgard sentry with whom she’d become friends on the journey across the Deadlands.

  “Perhaps Thea,” said Calliea. “She’s been saying lately that she’d like to see some of the sights outside the forge.”

  “I don’t know whether she meant going on a night raid into Unseelie territory,” said Gray with a brilliant grin. The two cousins looked at each other and smiled, their eyes flashing, the resemblance between them gaining sudden clarity.

  “You two are just rarin’ for a fight,” murmured Quinn, looking between the two women.

  “It’s been rather boring since the war ended,” replied Gray.

  “Maybe for you,” Calliea rejoined, still smiling.

  “When did we go from serious planning to trading humorous comments?” asked Liam, spreading his hands and looking at Gray and Calliea in ill-concealed exasperation.

  “A little levity never hurts anyone,” said Gray. Then she sobered. “If we are looking for Seelie to join, I think Tristan would be a good choice.”

  “I thought we agreed that it would be just Vyldgard,” said Merrick.

  “We are all from somewhere,” said Gray, her green eyes glimmering. “We were once Seelie, and now we’re Vyldgard. We don’t know how Mab will interpret anything, in truth.”

  Tess rubbed her forehead. She understood Gray’s point, but she also thought that this was getting complex. “Should we take a vote?”

  “Are we deciding everything democratically now?” said Merrick with guileless interest. He peered at Quinn. “That was the right word, was it not?”

  Quinn chuckled. “It was, and I guess for certain things we are.”

  Tess sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. She could feel a headache lurking behind her eyes. “Unless anyone else has any other suggestions?”

  “We could decide,” said Calliea, surveying the table. “Plausible deniability could extend to everyone who is not in the raiding party.”

  “You should at least let us know when you expect to be back, so that we know if anything goes wrong,” Tess protested, her stomach dropping. She liked the sound of this plan less and less as they continued the discussion. By the looks on Finnead and Liam’s faces, they felt similarly. Tess had always found Gray harder to read.

  “There’s no use in putting it off,” said Calliea. “I say we go tonight.”

  “It’s only mid-morning,” said Merrick, nodding. “We can have the preparations done by dusk.”

  “Cover of darkness means little to the Unseelie,” said Finnead, shaking his head.

  “But it does to us,” pointed out Merrick. “Mab feels more secure at night. Darkness is part of her realm. She’ll be expecting any action against her to happen during the daytime, when she’s a bit weaker and the Seelie are stronger.”

  “Funny how the rising and setting of the sun used to dictate our lives so,” murmured Calliea.

  “I’ll help with the planning,” said Finnead. He clenched his jaw. “By all rights, I should be going.”

  “That, at least, we’ve all agreed upon,” said Merrick. “Vell can foreswear any of us if we’re caught and Mab tries to use us against her.” Grimness weighted his gray eyes. “We all understand that. She wouldn’t be able to fo
reswear one of her own Three so easily.”

  Finnead nodded stiffly. “She’d have to execute me.”

  Tess winced. She’d seen Mab execute one of her Three in a vision, courtesy of the Crown of Bones. Coincidentally, she’d also been trapped in a sirens’ cave with Luca and Finnead. It wasn’t a sight that she wanted witness again in the flesh, much less with Finnead. Their romance, if one could call it that, felt far behind them now, but she still felt concern for him as she would for any friend.

  “Let’s just do our best not to get caught or killed, how about that?” said Calliea brightly. She looked at Finnead. “And no better time than the present to start this planning process. Can you sketch the route you think would be best?”

  “I’ll go speak to Thea and Moira,” said Merrick. He nodded to the table at large, stood and strode through the shimmering portal in the wall of Tess’s chamber.

  “Tess, do you mind if we stay here for now?” Calliea asked.

  “I don’t mind at all. That might be best,” Tess replied. She used the power of the Sword to check for any enchantments that were not her own or Vell’s in her quarters every morning after awakening and every night before going to sleep.

  “It might be best if we leave you to it,” said Gray with a nod to Liam. She glanced at Tess, her shockingly green eyes piercing in their sincerity. “Do not hesitate to send a messenger if something goes…awry.”

  “If something goes awry, we’ll need more than a messenger, I think,” said Calliea. The cousins embraced briefly. Tess didn’t recall ever seeing them display affection so openly, though the gesture was a bit stiff, as though they were trying it out for the first time. She looked up at the ceiling and wondered if she should sweep the perimeter of the room with the power of the Sword now as well, just to be safe.

  The Caedbranr stirred at its mention in her thoughts. She felt it circle in her chest and several sharp pricks in her ribcage made her think that it was stretching and extending its claws like a cat just starting its day…or a wolf coming out of its den. Once upon a time, the Sword had appeared as a primal version of the ulfdrengr wolves.

  She stood and stretched as well, the Sword’s actions contagious. Liam didn’t look happy as he followed Gray out of the room. Finnead had produced a small journal and had it open on the table, drawing with intent precision as Calliea watched over his shoulder.

  “I’m gonna go talk to Maeve, see if I can get her to whip up something for us to disable those Guards without killin’ em,” Quinn told her quietly. The Valkyrie commander nodded and went back to watching Finnead sketch.

  Tess poured herself more khal and sipped the strong, hot liquid contemplatively. Should she have objected to the plan to retrieve Andraste from Mab’s keeping? Whether they termed it a rescue or a kidnapping, it was still sure to light a fuse to Mab’s fury. Then again, Andraste was central to Titania’s plan to crown a new Queen of the Unseelie. Her skin prickled. She hadn’t had much of a choice in crowning Vell the High Queen, and her friend hadn’t exactly been happy about it. How would Andraste feel? Shouldn’t she have a say in the matter?

  Not so long ago, you did not think of the Unseelie Princess with such empathy, commented the Caedbranr.

  Tess rolled her eyes and blew on her steaming khal. Of course, the Sword would interject now. I don’t see why you feel the need to comment on my personal thoughts about Andraste, she replied.

  The sheath of the Sword vibrated on her back as the Caedbranr hummed. It shows your growth. You were once very angry at her for things beyond her control.

  Oh, you mean the fact that Finnead still loves her? That? Tess retorted acidly.

  Yes, said the Sword in its androgynous voice. That.

  Tess rubbed the scar on the left side of her face with her thumb. She knew that now it looked like a thick silver thread along her cheekbone, but the skin surrounding it was still sensitive and, in parts, numb to the touch. It had replaced the scar on the bridge of her nose as her go-to scar to rub when she thought hard or felt agitated. Finally, she answered the Sword directly, even though she knew that it could essentially read her tumultuous thoughts.

  At first I resented her, yes, especially since she was part of why Luca was gone. I felt like she robbed me of both of them. She pressed her thumb along the seam at her cheekbone. But now…now I almost feel sorry for her. Yes, part of it is because Luca is safe. But another part of it is because I can see that she didn’t choose any of this.

  There is always a choice, replied the Caedbranr.

  The Sword had told her this phrase before, when she’d railed against fate and destiny. It had told her that she always had a choice. That everyone always had a choice.

  I know, Tess replied. But what I don’t know is what her choices could have been. I don’t know enough about what happened. So how can I judge her when I know so little about how she came to be how she is?

  She felt a spark of warmth from the Sword. It felt something like…pride.

  You are becoming wise, the Caedbranr told her. It paused, then added, Do not let it go to your head.

  Tess chuckled. Oh, I think I just know enough now to realize how much I don’t know.

  And that is the first step to wisdom, said the Sword in satisfaction. It turned a few circles in her chest, and then without prompting its power flowed down her war markings and investigated the perimeter of her chambers. Its nebulous glow took the form first of a hawk, flying near the ceiling, and then it became a spotted cat with a striped tail padding sinuously along the floor. Calliea spared it a glance, but Finnead ignored it. Tess watched it with a sense of fondness. After all, she was bound to the Sword. She was the Bearer, and until she passed the Caedbranr along to her heir, it would be her constant companion. They’d come a long way since that first night in the Royal Wood, riding Beryk headlong into the skirmish in the clearing and incinerating every Dark creature that stood against them.

  The Sword-as-spotted-cat padded up to her, leapt into the air and dissolved into whorls of light that sunk into her war markings and funneled back into the Sword’s typical resting place between her ribs. She rubbed her forearm idly. The prickling of the Caedbranr’s power didn’t bother her anymore, but sometimes she was more aware of it than others.

  “Would you like anything else other than khal?” she asked Finnead and Calliea. They both shook their heads. Calliea took the seat next to Finnead and they were deep in conversation about the length of the hallways and the best way to free the Princess from her prison of silver bars. Tess listened to the conversation with one ear as she went to her wardrobe and retrieved her bow and quiver.

  “I’m going to the practice yard,” she said. “Feel free to stay here as long as you like, but you won’t be able to get back in once you’ve left. The tapestry won’t remember you.”

  “Inconvenient,” remarked Calliea.

  “Practical,” retorted Tess. “Just don’t leave anything important behind.” She paused. “And I’ll be staying up tonight. Until dawn, or until I get word that everyone is back.”

  Calliea nodded. “I’ll let you know our final rendezvous point.”

  “I’d appreciate that. In the meantime, I have to act like this is any normal day, and people might start to say that I’m getting lazy if they don’t see me out at the practice yards.”

  Calliea chuckled. Finnead didn’t respond, still bent over his journal. Tess left her room and strode quickly to the practice yards, the beauty of the White City passing around her unseen as she thought about the coming night. Would Vell think it was a brash decision, or would she be proud of Calliea and Merrick? What had been so important that she’d needed to leave the confines of the City so abruptly, with barely a word to anyone? She mulled over the many questions as she arrived at the practice yards. Seelie and Vyldgard fighters mingled, talking amiably as they watched others spar. They nodded to her almost in unison as she passed by the sword rings on the way to the archery targets. She didn’t see any Unseelie, which was what she expected but
nevertheless sent a prickle of unease down her spine.

  After warming up with a set of calisthenics in a corner of the yard, the hard-packed dirt warm under her hands under the noon sun, she strung her bow and found an empty target. She sent a dozen arrows into the target before pausing to stretch, sweat sliding down her back. The physical exertion was a welcome distraction from thoughts of the night’s raid. Somehow, she felt more nervous because she wasn’t going.

  You cannot control the outcome, murmured the Sword in the back of her mind.

  She nodded in acknowledgement as she retrieved her arrows from the target, inspecting them to ensure she hadn’t damaged any of the shafts, sliding them back into the quiver at her right hip. If she was dressed for battle, her plain blade would be at her left hip, her quiver at her right, both for drawing with her right hand, though she’d taught herself to be facile with her left as well. She missed the familiar weight of her breastplate with a sudden ache. It was strange to long for the trappings of war, she thought as she settled the last arrow into her quiver and walked back toward the firing line.

  After three more rounds of emptying her quiver, the muscles in her arms and back burned pleasantly with exertion. She wiped sweat from her forehead with the bottom of her loose shirt and slung her bow over her shoulder.

  “Lady Bearer! Care for a round in the sparring ring?” called a Vyldgard fighter she vaguely recognized but couldn’t name.

  She smiled ruefully and touched the hilt of the Sword over her shoulder. “Afraid I didn’t bring my plain blade.”

  “Oh, we can fix that easily,” said a Seelie man with a grin, gallantly offering her his slim blade hilt-first.

  Tess looked at him and realized that he was the youngest member of Gray’s patrol on the day that the Seelie had found her and Vell in the Borderlands. The coincidence of seeing him just after Gray had mentioned him to go on the raid rolled through her with a little shock. His smile was infectious and she found her own lips curving. “Ever the gentleman, Tristan.”