The Mad Queen (The Fae War Chronicles Book 5)

by Jocelyn Fox

“We will take that into consideration as we are able,” said Vell with a slow nod. “And what is your second thought, Lady Guinna?”

  Guinna took in a deep breath and squared her shoulders. “I cannot express my thanks to your Laedrek for my rescue, and your offer of refuge extending to baptizing me as Vyldgard humbles me.” She raised her chin. “Yet I cannot in good conscience accept such an honor merely as a means of assuring my own safety.”

  Gray tilted her head as she sat back in her chair and crossed her arms. Liam raised his eyebrows and looked at Tess, as though to tell her that he was reconsidering his opinion of the Unseelie woman. Finnead remained unreadable.

  “I hope to earn that honor in the coming days,” Guinna concluded.

  Vell gave her a long, considering look. Beryk flowed out of the shadows and circled the table on silent paws. Guinna stiffened but held carefully still as the great black wolf drew near her chair. His head nearly level with that of the Unseelie woman, Beryk regarded her with his golden lupine gaze, unmoving save for the rise and fall of his chest and the idle flick of his tail. Guinna swallowed and turned her head, looking at the wolf head-on. Beryk leaned closer, now only an arm’s length away. Guinna’s gown against her pale skin looked like mortal blood against snow.

  Tess found that she was holding her breath as she watched the silent encounter. She realized with a jolt that Guinna had nearly been killed by Mab’s hunting hounds, and here she was staring into the eyes of a wolf. An ulfdrengr wolf, to be sure, but still a creature with terrifying similarities to the nightmare she’d faced barely a full day prior. Finally, Beryk turned away and padded toward the fire, settling onto his belly with his back to the flames, still watching Guinna intently.

  “Very well,” said Vell. “I shall not baptize you as Vyldgard. You are still under my protection as the High Queen.”

  Guinna nodded. “Thank you, my lady.”

  Vell nodded once and then stood, setting off a cascade of motion as her Three pushed back their chairs as well. “Lady Bearer, Gray will see to it that Lady Guinna has suitable quarters.”

  “If she is not to be Vyldgard, perhaps the safest place for her is to remain here,” said Tess. “I don’t mind.”

  The Vyldretning shrugged. “Very well. Let Gray know if you change your mind.” She turned to her Three. “Finnead, I will need a way forward regarding the Princess. Liam, draw back your reconstruction teams and set them to the task of assisting the armorers. Gray, a full report on our defenses and improvements that must be made. By sundown.” Glancing back at Guinna, she added, “I will send the Laedrek and the Arrisyn here to speak to Guinna about the details of the Unseelie defenses.”

  Tess nodded. “Anything I can do to help?”

  “Keep her safe,” replied Vell. Then she considered. “We will have to discuss a timeline for your return to Doendhtalam in short order.”

  “If you have a way forward with the Princess that does not involve me, I can turn over the Lethe stone into your keeping,” offered Tess.

  “Who would you want to take with you again?”

  “I was thinking about Calliea and Merrick,” she replied, “since they both have experience and know all the players in the scenario already.”

  Vell narrowed her eyes as she thought. “I see your logic, but I will speak to them both first.”

  Tess nodded. “Luca might want to come along as well, but I haven’t approached him about it.”

  “We will talk later,” said Vell. The tone of her voice promised a conversation between Vell and Tess rather than a negotiation between the Vyldretning and the Bearer.

  “I don’t have any plans,” replied Tess with a smile.

  The ghost of a smile in reply appeared on Vell’s lips. “Thank you for allowing us to meet in your quarters.” And with that, she turned and left. The room seemed immediately dimmer without her presence. Finnead followed without a backward glance. Gray at least gave Tess a respectful nod before exiting. Beryk remained at his post by the fire, laying his head on his paws and closing his eyes with a sigh.

  Liam walked over to Tess and wrapped his arms around her in a brotherly hug. She sighed, her body relaxing at his familiar affection.

  “What do you think?” she murmured into his shoulder.

  “As one of the High Queen’s Three or as your brother?” Liam replied drily.

  She sighed. “I know. Your duty comes before everything else. That hasn’t changed.”

  “You have your own role to play, too,” he reminded her. “And that’s been more important than mine.”

  “We don’t have to go comparing our importance,” she said with a chuckle, drawing back to see his face.

  The corners of his eyes crinkled in amusement. “Of course we do. Natural sibling rivalry, right?” He sobered. “It’s something that’s been on Vell’s mind. I don’t think things went well when they left the City.”

  “Oh…for Rialla?” Tess didn’t know how to talk about the subject.

  “It may be that she can’t bear pups,” said Liam. “Or at least that’s what they think.”

  “Maybe she just needs more time,” she suggested, remembering her first glimpse of Rialla as the skeletal creature wearing a collar imbued with an evil spirit. “The brutality of what they did to her wouldn’t be something that disappears.”

  Liam nodded. “Either way, Vell’s been thinking a lot about how to make new ulfdrengr, whether they need to journey to the North and find more wolves.”

  “The White Wolf marked us,” said Tess, touching the silvery markings on her neck. They had faded at this point to near invisibility, and she herself forgot they were there sometimes.

  “But all this will have to be shelved until Mab is taken care of,” Liam said.

  “I sense some bitterness,” said Tess.

  Liam ran his hands through his hair. “It’s just tough, Tess. She just keeps having to wait. First it was defeating Malravenar, then it was the Lethe stone and the Unseelie Princess, now it’s Mab herself.”

  “More than one thing can happen at once,” Tess said.

  “But not such great things as rebuilding a people and toppling a queen,” her brother replied. He stared into the fire for a moment.

  Tess glanced at the table and saw that Guinna had silently vacated her chair. Her eyes caught a scrap of crimson in the shadows of her bed. Guinna lay curled in the center, not even bothering to take off her dress. Glira still lay asleep on the pillow by Guinna’s dark head. The Glasidhe hadn’t awakened for the conference with the High Queen.

  “I know it’s difficult,” said Tess, pushing down the worry that rose in her chest, “but Vell can handle it.” She smiled. “Plus, she has us.”

  “She does,” agreed Liam, tilting his head to one side. “I just hope that’s enough.”

  “It will be,” said Tess with more confidence than she felt. She’d spoken out so strongly in the council, and she did feel strongly about Mab’s cruelty. But what would be the cost of the Vyldgard’s involvement? What names would she add to her sword? “You know, at first, battles were exciting. That first night I was bound to the Sword and rode into the clearing in the forest…it was such a rush. I felt unstoppable. Powerful. And there were a few that died, but I didn’t know any of them well.” She took a deep breath. “Then when we were on the journey to Brightvale, Kavoryk died. He chose to stay behind to fight the tide of creatures after we’d rescued Chael and Kianryk. Kaleth died that day too. My first faehal.” Her throat tightened. Her brother listened silently. Beryk raised his head from his paws and gazed up at her solemnly. “Murtagh died at Brightvale freeing Titania. Emery and Elwyn died at the Dark Keep. Maire died in the skies over the White City. Ramel could be dead, for all I know. We left the mortal world before he woke up.” Her voice shook as she continued. “And those are just those that I knew personally, Liam. The magnitude of suffering and loss that this war created makes me feel sick. And the fact that we might need to fight another war against Mab…”

  Her throat
closed and she shook her head, crossing her arms and blinking fiercely. When she’d wrangled her emotions into a more manageable state, she risked a glance at Liam. He’d crossed his muscular arms over his chest as well, the firelight painting his skin golden. She’d had to deal with the thought of her brother in danger for years, especially since his elite unit took on the most complex and high-risk missions. She knew he could take care of himself. But this was a different world. This was a different enemy.

  “When does it end?” she asked softly.

  “It doesn’t,” he replied, his voice grave. “There will always be other battles to fight. Some of them might not be with swords, but…” He shrugged. “You and I both know that’s part of our calling. It’s what we’re made to do.”

  The Caedbranr thrummed in its scabbard in clear agreement.

  “I don’t like the idea of fighting against the Unseelie,” Tess admitted. “I don’t know whether I could kill a Sidhe.”

  “It’s harder when the enemy looks like you,” Liam agreed. “But remember what I said before the battle at the Dark Keep?”

  Tess smiled. “Something like, ‘It’s simple. You kill them before they kill you.’” She felt nauseous at the thought of applying that logic to the Unseelie.

  “The world becomes really simple when someone’s trying to kill you,” her brother agreed in a quiet voice.

  She sighed. “None of this makes me feel any better.”

  “Well, just keep in mind, when push comes to shove, you surviving is more important than a little bit of guilt.”

  “A little bit of guilt.” Tess snorted. “That sounds like you’re trying to minimize it.”

  “Maybe I am. But it’ll work itself out.” He smiled and punched her lightly in the shoulder. “You’re the Bearer, Bug.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” she muttered. Her mind still chewed through the possibilities. Looking strictly at numbers, the Vyldgard were at a disadvantage. Why didn’t Vell want the support of the Seelie Court? Having Queen Titania and her warriors would tilt the odds in their favor.

  The ground rumbled beneath their feet and the fire flickered oddly in the grate. Beryk stood, pricking his ears, his sharp gaze focused on something that Tess couldn’t see. Tess frowned. “An earthquake?”

  The foundation of the White City was ancient, even by Sidhe standards. Perhaps work by the reconstruction teams had weakened something or the land was shifting in its regeneration after the defeat of Malravenar.

  Another rumble shook the floor. The taebramh lights dimmed and then regained their light. Beryk growled low and deep, his chest reverberating.

  “It’s not an earthquake,” said Liam, grim certainty in his voice. “Get your armor and get to Vell’s quarters.”

  Tess scrambled to put the pieces together. “What? I don’t understand.”

  A third impact, this one stronger than the other two, shook the ground. Fine dust filtered down from the ceiling.

  “And make sure Guinna stays here,” said Liam over his shoulder as he headed for the door.

  “Liam,” said Tess in exasperation, “tell me what’s going on!”

  “It’s not an earthquake, Tess, it’s artillery fire!” snapped Liam. Beryk bounded past him and disappeared through the wall.

  “Mab decided to strike the first blow,” said Tess, her lips going numb.

  The great, booming bell used by the Vyldgard to summon all the warriors to battle pealed, its deep voice competing with the increasingly thunderous explosions that shook the floor.

  “We’re not ready for this,” Tess said to herself as she threw open her wardrobe and grabbed her breastplate, sliding the strap of the Caedbranr over her head so she could don the armor. She tightened the straps at her sides, the weight of the armor evoking a familiar excitement even beneath her anxiety.

  They hadn’t had the time to plan. They hadn’t had the time to think about their strategy and their first strike. Or perhaps they had, she amended, and they hadn’t moved fast enough. They hadn’t taken Mab seriously. They hadn’t thought that she’d attack the Vyldgard in such a bold move.

  “What’s happening?” said Guinna, standing in the center of the room in bare feet and a wrinkled dress.

  “Stay here,” replied Tess, the words harsher than she’d intended as she finished buckling her plain sword at her waist. She grabbed her bow and quiver and adjusted the strap of the Caedbranr across her breastplate.

  “She’s attacking, isn’t she?” Guinna’s voice trembled but she walked forward with sure steps. “Give me a weapon.”

  “What?” Tess turned to her Unseelie friend.

  “I was not raised a warrior, but I fought in the battle against Malravenar,” said Guinna, her eyes flashing. “Do not tell me I cannot fight in this battle, especially when Mab is using me as the excuse to start a war.”

  “You don’t know that,” said Tess.

  “It is not a coincidence that I was rescued by a Valkyrie and barely a day later she attacks,” replied Guinna fiercely. It was the most animated Tess had seen her. She still looked pale, but determination suffused her eyes.

  Tess gestured to the open doors of her wardrobe. “Fine. Take your pick. But I can’t wait for you.”

  “Didn’t ask,” said Guinna, quickly leaving the scarlet dress in a puddle on the floor and grabbing breeches and a shirt.

  Tess turned to the door. The Caedbranr’s power strained against her ribs, urging her to move faster, to get to the High Queen, but she needed to say something. She couldn’t just leave Guinna without at least a kind word. “Guinna?”

  The Unseelie woman paused in belting the too-large shirt and looked at Tess.

  “I’m looking forward to hearing about everyone that I knew before I left Court,” Tess said, even as a terrible premonition sank its claws into her heart. It wasn’t the first time that she’d promised to meet a friend after a battle and had to break that promise.

  But Guinna smiled and nodded, a fierce light in her eyes. “See you after.”

  “If you hold your purpose in your mind, the passageways should lead you to the gathering place,” said Tess over her shoulder. The strongest explosion yet shook the ground, rattling the cooling pot of khal on the table by the fire.

  After Guinna nodded and turned her attention back to the weapons hanging in the wardrobe, Tess slid through the wall and stretched her legs into a run, hoping that the High Queen and her Three had a plan to defend the cathedral.

  Chapter 31

  “I knew it was too quiet!” Ross resisted the urge to throw her beer bottle as hard as she could into the green of the yard. She settled for pacing the porch, her footsteps loud and angry, making the entire porch shake. Duke leaned against the front railing. He took a swig from his own beer and swatted at a mosquito. She felt an irrational surge of anger at him for being so calm.

  “Alright, let’s go through it again,” he said. “I just wanna make sure I got everything straight.”

  “Jon’s partner Alyssa got sick today halfway through shift,” Ross said, breathing in through her nose and out through her mouth. “It was such short notice that our lieutenant asked me to fill in rather than wait for a sub to come through from main dispatch.”

  “Right, because you’re certified as a paramedic,” said Duke, nodding.

  “Obviously.” Sweat slid down her back as she completed another lap of the porch. “So, we get a call, person down from unknown causes, right? We get there, it’s a homeless guy in an alley.”

  She tamped down the nausea crawling up her throat at the memory of the pungent smells: sour vomit and wet pavement mixed with the greasy steam of a nearby Chinese restaurant, the garbage cans halfway down the alley emitting a noxious bouquet of rotting food. Underneath all that, there had been the cloying, sweet smell of human decomposition.

  “We were both pretty sure as soon as we got there that the guy was dead. One of the workers at the restaurant had called it in because he’d seen the guy in the exact same position when he left the ni
ght before.” Ross swallowed hard. “Hadn’t even gone over to check on him.”

  “Can you blame ‘em?” Duke asked. “Most people don’t have the cajones to do what you do.” He tilted his bottle to his lips again.

  Ross wished she could enjoy the cold beer, the bottle sweating in her hand in the humid evening air. But it tasted flat and metallic. “I get that. I know. It’s just…I don’t understand it.”

  “So you get there, call it in pretty much right away?”

  “Scene was safe so we had to verify that he was deceased,” said Ross. Her stomach roiled but she forced herself to keep a straight face. If she let herself give in to disgust and nausea now, even off duty, it would bleed over into her work performance. “I’m not a coroner but I think he was dead for a day or two.”

  “Okay,” said Duke, nodding. “I mean, I’m gonna sound like a jerk here, but people die all the time. Homeless guys too. Sad that he didn’t have anywhere to go, but…what’s the big deal?”

  “Two things.” Ross paused in her pacing. She held up one finger. “First, he didn’t just die. He was killed. And not in the same place that we found him.”

  “How d’ya know that?” drawled Duke.

  She knew he was playing devil’s advocate but she still narrowed her eyes at him. “His throat was slit. Pretty good indicator that it’s a murder and not an overdose or anything else.”

  “Okay, I’ll accept that,” Duke replied, toasting her with his beer.

  Ross gritted her teeth. “And number two. He was exsanguinated.”

  “Pretty sure that’s what happens when you get your throat cut,” said Duke.

  She took a swallow of beer to avoid voicing a sharp retort. The carbonation of the beer hurt as it slid past the knot in her throat. “Don’t be dense,” she said finally. They were the kindest words that came to mind. “Who do we know on the loose that needs blood?”

  “Look, Ross, I know it must’ve been a rough call, it sounds like it sucked,” said Duke sincerely. “But it’s kinda hard to jump to that conclusion.”

  “One of the guys I know in the NOPD answered our call,” said Ross. “He secured the scene and overheard some of what the coroner and the evidence techs said.” She pressed her lips together. “His throat wasn’t slit all the way. Just on one side, right at the carotid.” She tapped her own neck, feeling the jump of her pulse beneath her fingertip. “I saw it when I verified he didn’t have a pulse. There was this weird…bruising…around the wound.”