by Jocelyn Fox
Vivian coughed. A strange smell assaulted her nostrils. The left side of her face felt hot. Cool fingers slid beneath her chin and lifted her face. She stared hazily into Tyr’s silvery eyes. His gaze traveled over her face, lingering on the left side, and then he abruptly released her, standing up and running one hand through his white hair.
Still sitting in the grass, she touched fingertips to her left cheek and winced. It felt like a bad sunburn. The fire roared merrily behind Tyr, the flames almost as tall as him but contained within her circular firebreak. Vivian blinked and wondered why the fire had obeyed the line in the dirt that she’d cut with her little trowel. As if from a distance, she heard the front door slam and footsteps running across the yard. She should really stand, show everyone she was perfectly fine, but she stared at the leaping flames, transfixed by the idea that she had created this ravening beast out of nothing. At least Ross was at work. The idea of her firefighter roommate seeing this display of pyromania struck her as impossibly funny. A giggle escaped her like a hiccup.
Duke reached them first. He went straight to Vivian.
“We heard that from inside the house,” he said as he quickly began checking her over. “First degree on the side of your face and looks like a bit of your hair caught fire…”
Niall went straight for Tyr. The thought of her two teachers fighting snapped Vivian out of her torpor. Nearly knocking heads with Duke, she surged to her feet. The two Sidhe men stood barely an arm’s length apart. Tyr stared stonily at Niall, making it clear he wasn’t intimidated by the other man’s size and height. She felt Duke’s hand at her elbow, steadying her, his muttered stream of curses background noise like static on the radio.
“Dangerous,” Niall said, a low growl in his voice. A chill slipped down Vivian’s spine. She hadn’t ever heard the mild-mannered Seelie sound so angry. He leaned forward, his white-gold hair gleaming in the sun, his tawny skin golden in the afternoon light. “I should never have let you contribute to her training. You are dangerous.”
Tyr, of course, said nothing, but his silvery eyes were flat and hard. Vivian noticed that he was missing one of his gloves. Her skin tingled as she realized he’d touched her with his bare hands, but she pushed that thought away to contemplate later.
“It was my choice,” she croaked at Niall. “I don’t think it’s your place to let anyone contribute to my training.”
Tyr raised one white eyebrow, as if to say, See?
“You are impertinent,” said Niall. The undercurrent of anger in his normally calm voice rattled Vivian, but she pressed on.
“No,” she said, “I don’t mean to be impertinent. I just want to be very clear.”
Duke squeezed her elbow, and she didn’t know whether it was in encouragement or warning. Vivian looked between Tyr and Niall.
“If I am to become a Paladin, then it is my choice,” she said firmly. “And that includes the choice of who will train me.”
Tyr shot a glance at Niall that looked to Vivian like it contained a glint of triumph.
“You do not know enough to make such choices,” said Niall. “Does a page choose his course of study? No. His training master does.”
“I am not training to be a Knight,” replied Vivian. She took a deep breath. “All I ask is that I am given a fair say in my own training. If I’m going to risk life and limb in the service of the Sidhe, then that is the least you could do.”
Niall turned away from Tyr and took a step toward her, a strange light in his eyes. “Vivian, do you not understand what I have been teaching you? The Paladins are not in service of the Sidhe. The Paladins fight alongside the Sidhe to keep the peace and balance of both Doendhtalam and Faeortalam.”
To Vivian’s surprise, Tyr nodded solemnly at Niall’s words. She crossed her arms over her chest. At least if they were both agreeing when correcting her, they weren’t staring each other down, ready to leap for each other’s throats.
“Then I think you need to add history lessons to my training,” she said tartly.
Duke snorted. “Come on,” he said, exerting gentle pressure on her elbow to turn her toward the house. “Let’s put some ointment on your face.” He chuckled. “And you’re not going to be happy when you see your hair.”
Vivian reluctantly let Duke steer her across the yard. She glanced back over her shoulder to see Niall and Tyr standing side by side, the low murmur of Niall’s voice reaching her. So maybe she wasn’t the only one who could speak to Tyr. She felt vaguely wounded. Then she sighed and reached for the burnt ends of her hair – so Tyr had been beating out the fire in her hair. A spark must have caught, or else she thought she’d be more badly burned.
“Ross is going to have a cow when she comes home,” she muttered.
Duke shook his head, smiling. “With those two back there as competition, I think Ross is the least of your worries.”
“You can say that again,” Vivian said emphatically. At least they hadn’t punched each other, she thought as they climbed the steps of the front porch. But then again, there was still plenty of time for that in the future. She thought ruefully of the fireball. Obviously, there was still a lot of training left for her to complete before she could even think of becoming a Paladin, and she needed all the help she could get.
Chapter 30
Tess leaned back in her chair, feeling the warmth of the fire on her back as an expectant silence settled over the room. Guinna sat at the head of the long table, pale but composed and looking much more like the Unseelie woman that Tess remembered. Gray and Liam stood a few paces away, watching the entrance to the quarters expectantly. Finnead sat on the right hand of Vell’s empty chair at the other end of the table. Someone, perhaps Gray, had found a gown almost in Guinna’s size. The scarlet color contrasted beautifully with her marble complexion. Guinna kept glancing at her sleeve and her skirt, touching the cloth with one finger, her eyes thoughtful.
“Are you feeling alright?” Tess ventured quietly.
Guinna looked up at her. “Yes, for the circumstances. I just…it has been centuries since I have worn a color like this.” She smiled sadly. “It is a reminder that I am no longer a prisoner.”
After they had adjourned from the healing ward, Tess had led Guinna and Sage to her quarters. Vell had followed, and her Three had joined them shortly thereafter. The conversation had been brief. After answering a few more questions from the Vyldretning, Guinna had begun shivering and Sage had told Vell respectfully but firmly that the Unseelie woman needed to rest after her ordeal. The Glasidhe, Glira, hadn’t uttered a single word, curling up on the pillow next to Guinna’s head. Sage offered to stay to watch over the sleeping woman, so Tess had checked the wards on her room and then she’d walked to Luca’s small room to sleep for the night. Admittedly, there were more of certain other activities than sleeping, but Tess gladly took a bit of sleep deprivation in exchange for satiating their mutual hunger, at least for the moment.
In the morning, she’d walked back to her quarters to find Sage reading a book and Guinna still sleeping. When the Unseelie woman awoke, Sage checked her again, gave her a smile and left, leaving Tess to handle the task of arranging breakfast, a bath and a change of clothes, in that order. Glira had continued to keep her silence, hovering over Guinna in agitation. In a way, these concrete tasks had been a welcome distraction from all the questions whirling in Tess’s head about the future of the Vyldgard and the other two Courts. She wondered if perhaps Rialla was going to have a litter of pups, adding to Vell’s motivation to find the Vyldgard a more permanent home than their little warren here in the White City.
The other ulfdrengr were not present at this second council. Luca and Chael had been spending more and more time outside the confines of the City. Thea ran the forge now and even had two young apprentices, one Seelie and one Vyldgard. Tess felt Luca’s absence keenly. The veil between the worlds had separated her from him once, and now she felt the distance between them with a disparate pain. She told herself that it was nonsense, but
she still yearned to braid his hair and rest her hands on his broad shoulders. He probably wouldn’t be back in the City for at least three days.
She looped a finger idly through the pendant at her throat as they waited for Vell. Having her room turned into a meeting hall wasn’t particularly burdensome – Gray and Liam had wrestled the larger table and accompanying chairs into the chamber earlier, and that had been the extent of the changes. She sat up straighter as she felt Vell approaching the tapestry. Gray and Liam looked like soldiers standing at attention, and Finnead stood as well. Tess deliberately kept her seat. Guinna glanced at her with a hint of uncertainty and chose to stand.
Vell swept into the room, dressed simply but regally in a silken blue shirt and black breeches, supple knee-high boots and a black belt with a wolf worked into the golden buckle. Beryk prowled after her, his intelligent eyes landing on each person in the room individually. Guinna shivered visibly when the black wolf’s gaze rested upon her. Tess tilted her head thoughtfully. It had been a while since she’d seen Beryk follow Vell like a huge lupine shadow. Perhaps the big wolf felt the tension and wanted to be close to the High Queen, or perhaps Vell wanted to make a statement to their Unseelie guest.
The Vyldretning smoothly took her seat at the opposite end of the long table, transforming the plain wooden chair into a throne just by her presence. At some silent command, Liam and Gray took their seats. Gray sat across from Finnead, Liam beside her. That left an empty seat across from Tess. She wondered why Merrick and Calliea hadn’t been summoned.
“We are here to discuss the matter of the Unseelie Court,” said Vell without preamble. “Guinna of the Unseelie Court, do you have any further testimony?”
“Only what I have told you,” said Guinna in a trembling voice. She paused and gathered herself. “I would add that I have served Queen Mab for centuries. My sister Rose was killed when Princess Andraste was taken captive by the forces of the Enemy. I escaped, and I was rescued in the forest by Ramel, who was then a squire. Now he is the Vaelanbrigh, if he still lives.” Guinna paused again. “Queen Mab cares nothing for loyalty. She cares nothing for love or reason or any good thing that should govern the hand of a fair and temperate ruler.” Her voice trembled again, this time with emotion. “I hope that your Seer has told you something of our dire future.”
Vell narrowed her eyes. “What do you know about my Seer?”
Guinna nodded respectfully to Liam. “I know only that you have one, and I also know that any future with Mab still in power must be bloody.”
“Any future with Mab removed from power may be bloody,” commented Gray, her vibrant emerald eyes sober.
“The Arrisyn told us what he saw,” said Liam to Vell. “And I have told you what I Saw.”
The High Queen sat silently for a moment, looking down the length of table at Guinna. Then she turned to Finnead. “You cannot stay silent.”
Not for the first time, Tess wondered when Finnead had last gotten a good night’s sleep. She thought that perhaps it was time to ask Sage for a bit of white shroud and convince him to drink it. Maybe Liam could help. Ever since her return from the mortal world, she’d noticed her brother’s new closeness with the dark-haired Knight.
Finnead bowed his head and then raised his gaze to the Vyldretning. For all his haggardness, the firelight still painted beautiful colors into his raven’s wing hair. Tess felt her chest ache – not because she missed Finnead as an almost-lover or regretted her decision to give her heart to Luca, but because it pained her to see anyone she cared about looking so exhausted and forlorn. How could Vell let him run himself into ruin like that? She caught her brother’s attention and asked the silent question, subtly motioning to Finnead with her eyes and raising an eyebrow in inquiry. He pressed his lips together and sighed, signaling her that they’d speak more later, but it wouldn’t be a fun conversation. Tess felt her heart sink.
“My Queen,” said Finnead, “I must agree with Lady Guinna.” He nodded to the Unseelie woman. “Her words ring true. I was blinded to the injustices of our ruler, first by love and loyalty, then by guilt and shame. And finally by ambition.” A shadow passed through his sapphire eyes. “After I was freed from my bond with Queen Mab, I did not know my place in the world. I did not understand that there were other ways to serve, other ways to live that are different from her cruel construct.”
Guinna nodded unconsciously in agreement, her eyes shining with unshed tears.
“We did not know any different way,” said Finnead, “and so too is it with our kin still caught in her claws. I believe it is our obligation to help them fight for their freedom.”
“For their freedom or for a different ruler?” replied Vell, her gaze sharp.
“There must be a Queen,” said Finnead. “That is how the First made it.”
“But there was not always a High Queen, and yet here I am.” Vell gestured with one hand. “A Northwitch, no less.”
“I do not know how the deities see our world,” Finnead said carefully. “I think that the Court needs a Queen, but the Queen they have now is plunging deeper into the chaos of her own delusions every day.”
“Every hour,” whispered Guinna.
“And we should risk Vyldgard lives for this?” Vell asked, glancing about the room.
“You keep asking that question as though you’re going to get a different answer,” said Tess, unable to stay silent any longer. Vell didn’t look surprised, turning her attention to Tess expectantly. Tess let her words settle as she gathered her thoughts, and then she continued. “And the answer is that yes, it’s worth risking Vyldgard lives. It’s worth risking Seelie lives. It’s worth risking Glasidhe lives. Because if we all stand by again while a different kind of evil rises in another Court, we learned nothing at all from the war against Malravenar.” She let her gaze make the circuit about the table. “Why did so many die if not to protect this world against subjugation?” Liam smiled and Gray leaned forward, her green eyes intent but her face smoothed of any expression. “What makes Mab any different than Malravenar at this point?”
“Because she is a Queen baptized in the blood of the First,” said Finnead in a low voice, his words vibrating with emotion. He turned blazing blue eyes to the High Queen but Vell still looked thoughtfully at Tess.
“She is a Queen baptized in the blood of the First who is murdering her people,” replied Tess relentlessly. The Caedbranr’s power paced in her chest and buzzed in her bones, pushing her onward. She raised her chin. “You are not Unseelie. You are Vyldgard. And when you were Unseelie, Mab nearly killed you. She only let you go when you drowned.”
“I do not need to be reminded of my own history,” snapped Finnead.
“Maybe you do,” retorted Tess sharply. “She nearly killed you, Finnead. You just saved her the trouble by drowning first.” She swallowed as she remembered the slicing grief as she followed the Sword’s command to let Finnead’s heart stop after they’d clawed their way out of the river Darinwel. Sometimes she wondered why the Caedbranr had instructed her to retrieve Finnead from the gray cliffs of death when it had warned her so stridently against necromancy. “Why are you defending her now?”
“Because it sets a precedent,” Gray answered smoothly when Finnead remained silent. “It will illustrate that Queens are not untouchable. That thrones are not unreachable.”
“I think that was proven when Titania was captured and imprisoned by Malravenar,” said Tess. Was she the only one who remembered the struggles of the war?
“This will be different,” Gray said. “This will be one Queen against another. One Court against another.”
“No. It will be the High Queen and the Seelie Queen against the Unseelie,” rejoined Liam.
“Not if we move against Mab on our own,” said Vell.
The room fell silent. The Vyldretning leaned forward and rested her elbows on the table, her golden eyes grave.
“I am the High Queen,” she said. “What does that mean if not taking responsibility for t
hings such as this?”
Tess thought she heard sadness in Vell’s voice.
“You said yourself you have your own Court,” said Liam. “The Wild Court is set apart, but we still need your leadership. You are our Queen.”
“I am your Queen,” agreed Vell, “but I am also the High Queen. And I am beginning to realize that I cannot just disappear into the wilds with the Vyldgard, much as I would like to do just that.” She looked down the table at Guinna. “Do you have any other information for us, Lady Guinna?”
Guinna shook her head. “No, my lady. If you or any of your Knights have specific questions, I will do my best to answer them.” She paused, uncertain.
“Do not be afraid to say what is on your mind,” said Vell, her voice almost gentle.
“High Queen,” said Guinna, “two thoughts have been occupying most of my time. The first is that my brothers and sisters in the Unseelie Court, especially those close to the Queen…they have little choice in their actions. They must choose to obey or die.”
“I would choose death,” said Gray, her melodious voice counter to her hard words.
“And some have chosen that honorable end,” said Guinna unflinchingly. “Yet would you condemn those you love to death for your disobedience?”
Her question hung in the air unanswered. Tess felt a spark of pride in Guinna’s challenge, and she wondered what terrible things Donovan had been forced to do as the Unseelie Vaelanmavar.
“She inflicted a torturous rune on her own Vaelanbrigh,” she said in agreement. “There is no doubt in my mind that her methods have only become crueler.”